Prologue Long Live Team Plasma
As another in the Pokemon Retold series, I am going to be doing a retelling of Black and Black 2. I recently played both of those games and was incredibly inspired by them. The characters are wonderful and the story is so heartfelt and raw. So I really hope I am able to do such an intricate and carefully assembled plot justice! That being said, this is a novelization that takes a few slight liberties with characterization here and there. Notably, Hilbert, the protagonist this one follows, will be a bit different than you may expect from a typical Pokemon protagonist. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Also, be patient. Marlon here will be explained in due time. :P
I also want to add that Pokemon Retold intends to eventually become an animated series! But first the written series will come. You are more than welcome to follow me on DeviantArt, Tumblr, or YouTube to see progress as it is made, though I admit it will likely be slow at first.
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The atmosphere was cold and damp. Pristine, stark walls curved high over everyone's heads in an arch, no true flat ceiling existing in that cavernous throne room. Broad, looming pillars kept that ornate ceiling steady and gave the room an even more elegant feel due to their extravagantly sculpted designs. Gilded blue walkways snaked across flowing water beneath the room. Thick glass connected them and allowed throngs of robed people to walk across the rivulets below. They stared at a raised, wide walkway in the center of the room carefully, each of their eyes hidden in the shadows caused by the silver hoods that swallowed their faces.
Silence gripped the room save for the distant dribbling of water as a group of seven elderly men entered the chambers. One led the pack, looking quite different from the rest, who bore thick, conic robes and tall, cylindrical hats that hid their figures. The leader still had that conic design about his clothing, but the robes did not drag the ground like his colleagues, and they were primarily a deep violet with golden streaks and designs zigzagged throughout. The most prominent of the designs on his cloak appeared to be an eye shape of sorts. He had no hat to speak of. The leader also wore a red eyepiece lined with silver, an angular monocle of sorts, blotting his right eye from view. Cupped gently in his palms as if it were made of precious glass was a gleaming golden crown with white gemstones embedded in its lustrous frame.
The six men trailing him stopped along the walkway. Three sat precariously near the edge on one side and the other three did the same for the opposite length of the path. The leader continued his path until he reached a glittering chair made in the same shade of gold as the crown. He stood to the chair's right and swept a red, one-eyed gaze across the gathered crowd. He cleared his throat and addressed them, "Today, Team Plasma enters its next phase of liberation." The right side of his lips pulled down stubbornly against his words, refusing to budge, as if half of him were fighting his own words. But Marlon knew the much more sinister reason. All of Plasma knew, in fact.
"Long live Team Plasma," whispered the six men gathered about the walkway in unison. They were the other six of the Seven Sages. World-renowned philosophers, skilled in various other subjects as well, gathered to educate Team Plasma's members and even more importantly, their future King. It was important that they had some sort of powerful outside influence to inform their future King of the ways of the world, after all; Team Plasma's future King was sadly forced to live his life within the labyrinthian underground castle. His purpose was one too pure and important to risk by allowing him amongst dangerous average humans and their bladed tongues, capable of twisting the hearts of men into believing untrue, outrageous ideas.
"Our prince has finally come of age," the leader—Ghetsis, use his name, Marlon thought with a pang of discomfort—came again. His voice was gravelly but not faded or meek by any means. He had a loud, booming air of domination about him, a forceful persistence Marlon had known from no other. His seriousness was not unwarranted, however. Ghetsis went on to say, "Lord N is ready to be crowned as the King of Team Plasma and to lead us in our quest to change Unova for the better!"
Marlon watched curiously as Ghetsis' robes fluttered at movement beneath them. He, along with most of the other members of Team Plasma present, softly gasped as he revealed his right arm fully, grasping the crown tenderly in the shuddering fingertips, and strained to raise it high above his own head. High above the gathered crowd. Marlon knew he should have been awing at the crown as it was the symbol of their future, but Ghetsis using his bad arm was entrancing in a way.
As the story went, Ghetsis had been mauled by a hydreigon he had fought to tear away from a most frightful trainer. He had described his travel through a path in the wilderness close to Victory Road as nothing short of depressing: trainer after trainer ruthlessly pushing their pokémon to fight anything they spotted. Supposedly the hydreigon had been on the verge of collapse, attacking wild pokémon desperately as if to get the training over with so it could be done. Ghetsis, unable to watch, had stepped in, he had said. The trainer had laughed him away at first and so, of course, Ghetsis battled to try to insist, to change his mind. Ghetsis battled until he no longer had pokémon at his side capable of battle. Then, the hydreigon had descended upon him in a blind fury. Even the pokémon's own trainer had been petrified at the display and had left his pokémon there, Poké Ball and all, to whatever fate awaited it and Ghetsis. Of course, Ghetsis had survived the encounter, if only narrowly, and the scars of that fateful battle were still readily visible across his arm, his leg, and his face. Ghetsis proudly persevered despite them like they were a symbol of what they would overcome. Never did Ghetsis allow his apparent disabilities to hinder his daily life.
So, to see him holding the crown high above them in such a way, arm trembling and struggling to remain aloft, it was a moving sight to say the least. Marlon was flooded with a burning desire. Team Plasma had found him, wasting his life away in the seaside village of Humilau, five years before and had given him purpose. Reminded of this, he felt a cozy sense of belonging. Life in Humilau had been fun, that was for sure; fishing, surfing along the backs of various visiting marine pokémon, diving, swimming… it was an indulgent, carefree lifestyle, and a very pleasant one at that. He had not realized how poorly he had been spending his life until Team Plasma had arrived. Ghetsis, not yet injured at the time of that visit, had paraded across the boardwalk of the town and spoken softly of the shame in 'owning' Pokémon and forcing them to battle for human entertainment. Marlon had only battled sparingly up to that point, much more preferring to fish and swim than train and battle, and was haunted by the idea of whether Ghetsis' claims were true or not. They had engrossed his then-thirteen-year-old mind with worries about what sort of world lay further in Unova's mainland cities. He spoke to some more of the adults in his village before making his final decision to join Team Plasma's ranks and they had all but confirmed his suspicions. The village elders lamented the introduction of the Poké Ball to the Unova region and sighed about how it had warped trainers' minds into ones of control and manipulation rather than progress and companionship. Battles, they felt, were now about domination instead of bonding.
It was with Team Plasma, with their ideals, that Marlon found purpose. No longer was he wasting away on idle standby, ignorantly living his indulgent life, as the world progressed down a dark path.
"Long live Team Plasma," chanted the crowd of gathered Team Plasma brethren. Marlon joined in. His voice was soft but not timid. They continued even as Ghetsis started to speak again, sounding like a distant hum.
"Fellow Sages and Servants of the King," Ghetsis mused as he looked down at the men flanking the walkway down the center of the room. "Please bring forth our King."
In frighteningly perfect unison, each of the six sages slowly moved to their feet and then filed together in a straight line as if they were designed to. They padded out the room and Ghetsis breathed in deeply, using his left hand to steady his slowly-failing right arm. Marlon looked up at him in hesitant admiration. Despite the story of his heroics, saving the hydreigon and saving their prince—no, King, he reminded himself—and adopting two other girls orphaned by selfish humans, Marlon still eyed Ghetsis with a hint of apprehension. Ghetsis pursued Team Plasma's goal of liberation doggedly and sometimes, his desperation went a little far. He blinked harshly as he recalled the feeling of that broad, tight hand on his shoulder, gripping with enough force he feared his bones might splinter, and an image flashed in his mind of an imposing figure shadowing him with his height. But Marlon banished the thoughts with a minute shake of his head. Ghetsis could be forceful at times, but Marlon couldn't blame him. He had seen the devastation wrought by humans firsthand more than many of them had and Marlon supposed he had been an annoying kid anyways. He still had a habit of slipping into the Humilau-inspired slang every now and then and he knew how much that grated everyone's nerves, not to mention how Ghetsis had warned him that giving away identifying information—such as one's place of origin—could compromise Team Plasma's mission.
The crowd fell silent, finally ceasing the hushed chant, when the Sages returned to the walkway. Leading them this time was their soon-to-be King. Pale green hair fluttered and flowed down his back, framing his young, perfect face. His eyes were shut, and the Sages guided him along the straight pathway by holding the lengthy ceremonial garb that he boasted and tugging gently when he began to teeter in any one direction too far. It also kept the beautifully patterned fabric from brushing the floor. They guided him to just in front of the chair—throne, Marlon corrected himself again—and only then did they let go of his robes. They each dipped their heads and offered something in a solemn whisper before returning to their initial positions along the broad walkway.
Ghetsis, standing to attention at the King's left, dipped his head in a similar fashion toward him. "Lord N," Ghetsis began with an almost loving purr in his voice, "you have learned all we can teach you to guide you in your path forward. Now, we look to you as our King and as our Hero to shape Unova's future as a place for pokémon and humans to live separate, perfect lives." He tried to carefully lower the crown onto N's bowed head, but his right arm gave way and it half-tumbled out of his hands. N steadied the crown himself, making no note of Ghetsis' fumble, and then looked up at his father. Marlon felt a bolt of sadness at the display. A pokémon had been driven to madness with the desire to attack Ghetsis over the selfish lust for power from its trainer. That was all it was a reminder of. After taking a second to collect himself, Marlon looked back up at N, who had turned to face the rest of the room.
He shakily breathed in and then raised his right hand nervously. He swallowed hard. "Today, I accept my role as King of Team Plasma and as Unova's future Hero," N declared in that delicate tone of his. He sounded so light and gentle compared to Ghetsis but he emanated the same air of determination. "Today, long live Team Plasma!" N's voice raised as he jutted that hand high into the air, his stormy eyes narrowing knowingly. The rest of the room erupted after him. Chants for Team Plasma reverberated throughout the walls in a way that made it feel as if even when they were gone, the room would continue to exude the words, the words of justice.
But N wasn't done. He stamped a foot and added with stronger vigor, "Together, friends, we will make a world free of confusion and suffering! A world that is ideal! A world that is black and white!"