Chapter 40 A Fateful Encounter

Or at least, he thought they had stepped into it. They were met with yet another yawning hallway that led to a doorless entrance to what Hil assumed had to be it. Standing between him and that room was Ghetsis. He was alone in that vast, empty hall, and his red eyepiece glinted in the glimmering light of a single chandelier. "Greetings, Holder of the Light Stone," he sneered.

Hil pressed his lips to a thin line, dimly aware of the stinging pain it brought. "Get out of my way," he growled. He flashed Cheren a look and found he looked just as determined. Coming to a wordless agreement, they marched fearlessly past the Sage standing in their path.

Ghetsis stood his ground and that calm, collected stature of his didn't change. "You have arrived to face our King. You will listen to my words before you visit him." The left end of his lips twitched. "This castle appeared as if it were enveloping the League, with likenesses of the League Staff ready to be burned at each bridge… A symbol that Unova will change and a symbol that no longer will oppression be tolerated." He smirked at Hil, who paused and gaped at him in disbelief. They all knew he was lying at this point. What was the point of this speech? Hil paused just in front of him and watched as Ghetsis began to pace. Limping along, he continued, "This is N's Castle. He is our King, and our King is the strongest trainer in all of Unova, in all of the world… He has not only defeated a champion, but he has won the heart of a legendary pokémon. More than that…" Ghetsis halted and snickered. "His heart burns with the desire to improve the world. If that's not what makes a Hero, then what more do you need?"

"Except he's not going to improve the world by doing this, just give you the keys to the kingdom," Cheren snapped. Ghetsis looked him up and down with a bored expression.

"The stage is set, Cheren Achron of Nuvema Town," Ghetsis practically purred as he paced some more, seemingly dragging his right foot along. He always seemed to pace… It aggravated Hil as he found his mind wandering, having difficulty keeping up with the conversation. "Your friend here will fail. Frankly, neither of you are that strong, and I know the Light Stone will not awaken for you. Neither of you are the real Hero of Truths. We will seize the minds and then the hearts of all trainers in Unova." He laughed. "I've been waiting so long for this moment! In no time at all, I'll watch the hopelessness on your faces as you fall before N, and he doesn't even know what he's doing! He has no idea that he's going to hand me all the pokémon in Unova on a silver platter to rule over a powerless populace!" He staggered to the side, giving Hil and Cheren a direct path to the Throne Room. He opened his jaws as wide as they could go, giving him a slanted, mad look due to his partially paralyzed face, and he roared joyously, "Go! Onward!" More mocking laughter. Sarcastically, he declared, "Discover whether you have what it takes to be a Hero!"

Cheren lunged forward and stopped just short of barreling into the Sage, taking Ghetsis by surprise, and he snarled, "He's the real deal! Just you wait! I'll be laughing when that stupid smile is wiped off your face!"

Ghetsis scoffed. "Thank you, sidekick. Now, does the 'real deal' here have anything to say?" He looked inquisitively at Hil.

"No," Hil answered with a faux sweet smile. He sauntered past Ghetsis and glanced at Cheren, jerking his head toward the door at the end of the hall. Cheren shot Ghetsis a few dirty glares but hurried to catch up with Hil. The Sage merely put his left hand behind his back—it looked as if he would have clasped both together if they both were fully functional—and watched them leave with a smirk, disdainfully looking down his nose at them.

Neither Hil nor Cheren heard, but Ghetsis mused something to himself as he watched the boys enter the Throne Room. "I really do hate it when people think suffering always has a reason," he complained. "But by Arceus, is it fun to watch them try to turn water to wine…~"

Waiting in the Throne Room for the New Hero of Truth's arrival was agony. Each second felt like an eternity as his mind and heart raced. This upcoming battle was the culmination of years and years of effort, suffering, and turmoil, it would decide Unova's future, and… it would ultimately decide N's future, too. Although he had been named the King of Team Plasma some time ago, he would truly be the undisputed leader following this. Ghetsis had warned him he'd pull back the training wheels and N would be left to his own devices as the true King of not only Team Plasma, but of Unova. A man who spoke for pokémon and humans on equal footing. He rapped his knuckles against the arm of his golden throne and in his right hand, he clutched a jet black, perfectly round stone. On occasion, he bounced it, and a slight electric charge would race up his arm.

He had learned that Zekrom could not hold its draconic form but for so long. The longer it stayed in that powerful form, the wearier and weaker it became. Zekrom had explained it was a result of the split it had endured with Reshiram all those years ago. As he tossed the hefty stone in his palm, a small voice repeatedly grilled him, asking him if perhaps that was a sign he shouldn't be pitting the two Ancient Dragons of Unova against each other again but instead, try to reconcile them, to make a suffering pokémon whole. N banished such blasphemous thinking with a violent shake of the head. That did not fit the formula that had been laid before him. The prophecy was clear. There was a Hero of Truths, a Hero of Ideals, Reshiram, and there was Zekrom. The prophecy described a constant string of Twin Heroes, constantly striving for what was right… if that wasn't proof enough that he was on the right path, then what was? Unlike most previous Heroes, N was just doing something with his mantle rather than hiding from it.

N had been told a different story about the Twin Heroes of Unova than what was frequently passed around in Opelucid City, however. He had never been presented with their teachings of the Ancient Dragons of Unova before his gym battle with Drayden, and so lost in his blind faith to Team Plasma was he that he failed to question the differences. He merely assumed the people of Opelucid were incorrect. He explained to them how the inherent conflict that occurred between the Ancient Dragons of Unova was a good thing—it allowed Fate to properly determine what was the right step forward. It was human cruelty and greed that turned the conflict too violent and brought about Unova's destruction. There had been no need for the original Twin Heroes, the king and the prince, to battle so endlessly and heatedly. N rejected their suggestion that the Ancient Dragons simply wanted someone to bring them and the rest of Unova peace. The idea was so foreign to him and all the teachings that had been provided to him in that insidious castle of his. Failing to align to any of his existing beliefs, N fearfully rejected the idea, never even gave it a chance to plant seeds of doubt in his mind, much like how he didn't question why Ghetsis was so sure the Dark Stone would react to him when technically, N just adopted the Harmonia name. It was only Ghetsis who truly carried the title, yet the Sage had wanted no parts in trying to revive Zekrom himself. Denial was the way N handled many discoveries and ideas presented to him that threatened what he had been trained to do and say.

Of course, N was so steeped in Team Plasma's conditioning that he couldn't have been anywhere near self-aware enough to realize any of that.

There was a shuffling of footsteps far below him, just barely audible above the slight trickling of water. At first, he was uninterested, thinking it was just another few Team Plasma footmen scurrying past the base of his throne while he awaited the arrival of the New Hero of Truths. But then, he saw two figures hobble out from the gaping entrance to the Throne Room, straggling up the middle catwalk leading up to his throne weakly. Pulled from his internal debating, he leapt to his feet and peered closer, noticing that both looked as if they had been through hell, for lack of better phrasing.

Cheren—who he still believed to be the New Hero of Truths—had dark bags under his eyes and his normally impeccably groomed charcoal hair was a messy mop. His jacket tied to his waist was in tatters and his shirt stained with grit and debris. Hil, who N could only assume was his faithful sidekick considering how often he followed him around, looked as if he'd been beaten within an inch of his life. He stumbled more than he walked, and his chin and hands were crusted with dried blood. His brown hair, typically curled at the ends, was in haphazard, straight clumps, soaked with sweat. N thought he also recalled him wearing a hat before, one with a black rim and Poké Ball symbol on the front, but that was gone now.

N walked to the bottom of the stairs leading to his throne, where Cheren and Hil stopped. Nobody said anything for a moment. N was disconcerted by the shadows beneath Hil's eyes. It looked as if he, too, had bags like Cheren did, but they somehow looked different. It made him look haunted rather than tired. N found himself staring back at Hil even though he knew it was Cheren who he intended to face. He realized after a moment or two of that awkward silence that it felt so off because Hil was not trying to talk to him. Every other time he had approached Hil or vice versa, the boy had been an avalanche of words… but today there were none. He wasn't sure why that bothered him.

"I have been looking forward to this battle," N broke the silence tentatively, trying to shake the unsettled feeling. "That's not something I ever thought I would say." He finally managed to tear his gaze away from Hil and he scanned Cheren's appearance. "Do you have the Light Stone?"

"We do," Cheren answered. At N's confused look, clearly wondering what he meant by 'we,' he pointed a thumb at Hil.

Hil held up a white, perfect sphere. "Surprise," he chuckled weakly and N thought he saw a couple tears sneak their way down his face. The stone pulsated with an orange glow within his hold.

"It… recognized you?" N asked, jarred. As big of a revelation as it was, one might have expected theatrics, or Reshiram unfurling right then and there, but there was no such dramatic event. Just an exhausted, weak boy holding out a glowing artifact. N couldn't quite place the look on Hil's face anymore. A few stray tears made their way down his face, but he wasn't sobbing nor did he even look sad. Perhaps it was stress or pain if his physical state was anything to go off…

N glanced down to the Dark Stone in his own grasp and clenched it a little tighter. He felt relieved, but he didn't understand why. Why had seeing Hil holding the glowing Light Stone given him such a rush of positivity? Secretly, he understood that he hadn't been all that enthused at the idea of Cheren collecting the Light Stone, but… why Hil? It felt like there were something fluttering in his chest cavity. He clenched his muscles against the unfamiliar sensation and backed away slightly.

"Yeah," Hil said quietly. "It recognized me. At least, I think so. It hasn't come out of, uh… stone form, yet. But it glows when I hold it."

The uncomfortable fluttering sensation only grew stronger. Hope, a small voice in the back of his head shouted against his better judgment. That feeling is hope. You want him to be right. His heart began to pump harder at that thought. Did he want Hil to be right?

No, of course not!

That was preposterous.

That was wrong!

N narrowed his eyes furiously at Hil. He clutched the Dark Stone tightly and then hurled it into the air, watching as it spilled inky smoke into the cavernous Throne Room. Even as the haze filled the air, N's eyes didn't waver from where they met Hil's.

N had felt true hatred only in fleeting bursts throughout his life, and today was one of those days.

He hated the way this boy made him feel.

He hated the way he made the ground beneath him feel unsteady, like it might crumble away at a moment's notice.

He hated how he always craved more… more of the outside world when he was around.

He hated how he often looked back on the Ferris wheel with fondness, and then with a twinge of hurt as he thought of how Hil had so negatively reacted to his revelation.

Why couldn't Hil just understand? Why did they have to fight at all? Why couldn't he just fit into that perfect box that was the Hero of Truths, like Cheren did? Cheren didn't care about N. Cheren just cared about keeping people and pokémon together, just like the New Hero of Truths should have. He loathed Hil for breaking all the expectations and rules. He despised him for somehow getting Reshiram to respond to him over the clearly rational decision that was Cheren.

It just shouldn't have been possible!

Zekrom, having fully emerged from the Dark Stone, hovered just behind N, filling the room with a stiff breeze. N briefly paused as he felt it buffet him. He always did love the breeze…

Soon enough, that moment of reprieve was over. "It's time to settle this once and for all! My determination is absolute!" N bellowed at Hil and Cheren. Cheren hardly reacted at all, but Hil cringed at his volume, and again when Zekrom growled in agreement with N. Infuriated further by his lack of a verbal response, by how the Light Stone was still not doing anything other than glow, N frustratedly added, "I will prove the value of my beliefs even if it means my pokémon friends get hurt!"

Zekrom cast him a curious look. N… you're not sounding like yourself…

N didn't get a chance to respond as his attention was absorbed by Hil wincing and dropping the Light Stone. Instead of falling to the floor, it hovered in midair and then floated high into the empty space above their heads. Rather than a soft amber, it was glowing red-hot. Within seconds, Reshiram unfurled from the sphere, violent surges of white smoke propelled from its form as it took shape. Once it finished, the vast, white pokémon roared a long, low warble that was melodic and pleasant to the ears, while its fearsome, massive tail blazed to life and cast a red glow across much of the room.

Reshiram peeked over its shoulders back at Hil. I have had a hard time figuring out if this boy was true at heart or not, it mused to itself, but after today I think I can trust him with confidence… He values truth as much as I do, but he is not cruel… not like my old friend…

"Cheren?" Hil faintly called to his friend.

"Yeah?"

"Make sure Ghetsis doesn't mess with us during the battle… okay?"

Cheren puffed his chest out and nodded. "Gladly."

That was all the peace they had before the battle was underway. Reshiram tossed Hil onto its back, and Zekrom allowed N to board its shoulders, and then they rushed at one another violently again, and again, and again. N used his anger at Hil to drive his silent instructions to Zekrom.

They traded blasts of blue electricity and balls of magma in the form of Fusion Bolts and Fusion Flares respectively, exchanged violet energy beams that made up Dragon Breaths, and occasionally, the Ancient Dragons of Unova rushed at one another fiercely, meeting with swift blows of claws and teeth. Roars and snarls filled the atmosphere around them.

Their riders were left clinging for dear life blindly as the furious battle raged. Yet, as time went on, and N's arm grew tired of desperately holding onto Zekrom's crest and shoulders, he realized neither of them were making headway against one another. N concluded, with a bolt of fright, that there may not even be a winner to this battle at all… Refusing to believe that could be possible, N silently willed Zekrom to hit harder and harder, faster and faster.

Although Zekrom tried at first to obey him, its strength faded quickly from the exertion. A final Fusion Flare from Reshiram collided with Zekrom's tail, and after a spectacular explosion of blue and red sparks, it and N were thrown down to the glossy floor of the Throne Room. Zekrom just barely managed to protectively encase N in its body to prevent him from being injured in the fall.

Reshiram and I are still evenly matched even after all this time, Zekrom throatily growled at N as it struggled back to its feet. We will get nowhere through continued battling.

"But there can't be no winner at all!" N howled. "We have to fight!"

Zekrom shook its head in disagreement. N… you said we wouldn't do this.

Reshiram readied another Fusion Flare, the swirling mix of lava just inches away from its opened muzzle. Hil had his face buried against Reshiram's neck, as if he couldn't stand to watch the battle anymore. There was plenty of time for Zekrom to dodge the attack, but instead of doing so, it allowed the projectile to crash into its face. Flames doused all of Zekrom's upper body. It snarled in pain and collapsed to its side, sending tremors throughout the castle floor, then it rapidly shrank back to the spherical Dark Stone. Almost as soon as the battle had begun, it was over. N stared in shock at where the Dark Stone lay, unmoving, against the ground.

"It's over, N," Hil croaked as Reshiram hovered over the other side of the room. His voice sounded scratchy and awful, different from earlier. "Please… let's talk."

"It's not over!" N vehemently hissed back at him. This couldn't be over. Not yet. "I still have five other friends with me!"

He refused to acknowledge that he could be wrong.

…He couldn't acknowledge that he was wrong…

At N's insistence, the battle continued against N's other five pokémon partners. It was hard for Hil to do since he knew how much N truly hated to watch pokémon suffer… And every time an attack would make connection with one of their pokémon, N would flinch or shut his eyes tightly, clench his fists; it was so, painfully clear how much it bothered him, but again and again, N insisted he had to. That it had to be done and there was no other way.

Reshiram, who seemed to have no qualms about battling with N, easily dispatched his Vanilluxe and Klinklang with a single Fusion Flare each, but the next pokémon that appeared looked to be an Archeops. Hil was still sure his legendary pokémon could handle it, but not in a single blow. Touching a hand gingerly to Reshiram's feathery chest, Hil swallowed hard and uncertainly whispered, "Dragon Breath…"

His orders were quiet because it felt so strange to be ordering a legendary pokémon, but also his voice was giving out. He grimaced at the dark stain down his front, hidden by the color of his black hoodie. He was suddenly so glad for the gift from Church for more reasons than one. Getting whipped around on Reshiram's back while they had been fighting Zekrom had brought the nausea he'd been fighting all day back with reprisal, and he had thrown up. Although the pokémon hadn't seemed to care, he had still jokingly thought to himself, wow, that's one hell of a first impression to leave on a legendary pokémon, Hil.

Reshiram bumped Hil's face with the end of its muzzle affectionately, as if to let him know his directions were okay, and then issued a purplish spray of energy from its jaws. The attack buffeted the Archeops across the face, but… it didn't react? Suddenly, the image of the Archeops faded like a glitchy image on a computer, and a black canid pokémon stood in its place. Hil didn't recognize that one…

"This is a pokémon that has known me since when I was abandoned to the forests to die," N explained at Hil's dubious expression. "Zoroark and I… I don't think there will ever be another I have such a deep connection with."

Without warning, the Zoroark lunged at Reshiram and viciously swiped its bright red claws across Reshiram's face. White feathers and fur wafted through the air in the aftermath of the attack. Reshiram snarled in response, long tongues of flame spreading from its conical tail as it blazed even brighter, and it spewed a ball of fire after the Zoroark in revenge for the fresh claw marks on its visage. But even N's Zoroark, despite the connection he talked up about it, fell soon under Reshiram's might.

"Why are you doing this?" N interrogated Hil with a barrage of questions much like that one. Guiltily, Hil didn't quite catch them all. He was feeling delirious from the long day, the injuries he'd received, and from where he had gotten ill just a little bit ago… He had been awake since seven that morning and he knew it was dark when he had first entered the castle. It had to have been some hours since then. It was probably midnight or later. He was running on empty. Still, he tried to pay attention to N's words and decipher what he was saying. He may not have caught everything the flustered King of Team Plasma said, but he caught the frustration and tint of fear in his tone. Beneath the weight of the day's events, Hil felt a beam of hope unlike any other. He didn't want N to be afraid… but if he was, then it meant he was nervous he was losing. He was considering that possibility and just what it would mean to lose.

Unfortunately, his shot voice meant he had no way of answering N while there was a pokémon battle going on between them. N irritably recalled his Zoroark, and then out came a Carracosta. Reshiram went to prepare a Dragon Breath for it, but Hil held up a shaking hand at it. "No, thank you," Hil pleaded nervously. How did one tell a legendary pokémon 'no?' "Noodle should be really strong against that one… I'm gonna send him out… I just think you should rest…"

Reshiram closed its jaw costively and then gestured for Hil to go ahead. Relieved, Hil thanked it again, and sent out Noodle. The Serperior hissed at N and his Carracosta immediately upon exiting his Poké Ball. "Noodle, Leaf Blade," Hil ordered frailly.

Noodle lashed a massive, thick tail across the Carracosta's body before it had a chance to return fire with whatever attack it had been preparing to use. Hil averted his eyes as he saw its shell begin to crack. He heard a Poké Ball and figured N had been alarmed by that, too, and had recalled the Carracosta. Hil felt pressure on his hip and saw Noodle had slithered back to his side. He gingerly rubbed Noodle's forehead, but jerked his hand away when Noodle twitched unexpectedly again. "I'm sorry, buddy," Hil apologized meekly at the sight of the tic, "I didn't mean for you to get hurt during all this…"

"We're still not done!" N howled and stamped his foot. He pitched another Poké Ball. "Archeops, please…"

Noodle glanced at the feathery creature as it was released, and then glanced back up at Hil. He trilled and forcibly pushed his forehead up against Hil's palm. Hil gave an enfeebled smile. Even after all they'd been through together, it seemed Noodle didn't regret it at all, and was ready to go back to battle for him again anyway. It was such a special feeling to know that.

Hil felt the same way.

Cheren had watched the battle between Hil and N unfold from the entryway to the Throne Room. Ghetsis stood nearby, regarding the battle and Cheren both with cold indifference. When Cheren had pointed a finger at him and told him not to do anything stupid, Ghetsis had rolled his eye and said, "I have no quarrel with you. N will deal with you once he is done with your friend."

Cheren had been divided. On one hand, he would have loved to get the chance to wipe Ghetsis off the face of the planet, but on the other, he knew provoking a battle with Ghetsis while Hil and N were both distracted might not have been the best idea. He had to take a deep breath and really think. He was here to help Hil and the rest of Unova. He couldn't let his own ambitious desires to put Ghetsis in his place get the better of him. Clinging to that thought, he instead carefully kept an eye on Ghetsis as the battle drew on and on.

But as the battle dragged on, Hil and N exchanged words, and N's pokémon fell one by one, starting with the almighty Zekrom. Cheren had audibly gasped in shock when N's legendary pokémon faltered. Stealing a furtive look to Ghetsis, he could see the old man visibly straining in anger, doing everything he could to remain silent and composed. When the rest of N's team toppled like dominoes, though, he furiously stomped a foot against the ground. "That good-for-nothing boy!"

Hil and N had quit battling. Reshiram was curled on its side next to Hil in an oddly relaxed state. Noodle coiled around his trainer protectively. N had recalled his last pokémon and dropped to his knees in obvious dismay. N shook his head and hollered disparaging remarks, but the target of his words was unclear. Ghetsis marched toward where the two had been battling and Cheren skirted after him.

He was not about to let Ghetsis interfere. Although he didn't want to provoke a battle if he didn't have to, he most certainly would if Ghetsis left him no other choice. Darting in front of the Sage, Cheren held a Poké Ball up and growled darkly, "Not another step!"

Ghetsis didn't skip a beat. He raised a hand and before Cheren had a chance to react, the back of Ghetsis' palm collided with his cheek and he was hurled to the floor, landing on his shoulder. Sharp pain shot through the point of impact and his head throbbed. The Poké Ball in his hand clattered next to his face as the muscles in his hand gave out.

The voices he heard as he struggled to get off the ground sounded distant and garbled. "The reason we reawakened the legendary pokémon Zekrom was to give MY Team Plasma more power! Power to control the fearful masses!" That was most certainly Ghetsis. Cheren gritted his teeth in frustration. He had been given one simple task! Make sure Ghetsis didn't interfere! He had to get up! He heard Ghetsis scoff. "That, at least, was well done."

"What?" Was that N? "Father… what are you talking about…?" That had to be N. "I battled with… with Hil to put our beliefs on the line… to see what was truly right for Unova…"

"You say that, and yet you lost to an ordinary trainer!" Ghetsis screamed. "I know who the real Hero of Truths is, and it's not this imposter! I don't know how he did it. But he's not it! You warped, defective boy! There is such a thing as being too stupid, I see!"

Feeling returned to Cheren's hands at last and he shakily picked himself up off the ground. A hot pain blossomed in his head and he groaned, holding his temple in his palms. It was so bad, it felt as if his head were going to explode.

"Leave him alone!" he heard a hoarse, raspy voice try to yell, breaking under the exertion. That was Hil. "You were just using him, anyway!"

Cheren hobbled to his feet. He was needed. He collected his Emboar's Poké Ball and unsteadily ran up to where everyone was gathered in the center of the room. Ghetsis was pacing furiously between N and Hil, waving his hands animatedly as he assailed N with words, while Noodle and Reshiram flanked Hil on either side and were physically restraining him. He fought their constraints, but his exhausted body couldn't hope to overcome them.

Ghetsis' attention was latched onto N as Cheren reached them. Overcome with anger, especially incensed at having been hit just a few moments ago, Cheren balled his right hand into a tight fist and brought it up at Ghetsis' weakened right side with all his might, clipping the elderly man's right upper arm. Granted, it wasn't much, and his hand ached like hell after; but, after being struck on his damaged side, Ghetsis howled in agony and stumbled away from them.

Cheren, shaking out his inflamed fist, curled a lip after Ghetsis. "That's the least of what you deserve," he spat. A small rivulet of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Panting, Cheren quickly looked between Hil and N. They both looked a mess, and Cheren knew they both needed to talk. Sizing up Ghetsis again with his Emboar's Poké Ball in his grasp, Cheren blustered, "Hil, talk to N. I'm going to take care of Ghetsis." He arced the Poké Ball in his grip.

Seething, Ghetsis sent an Ultra Ball flying. "You brat! You're not even part of this at all! I'll teach you! Go, Hydreigon!"

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Cheren shot back at him, slate eyes shining with determination. "You keep tossing around labels like King, Hero, Sage, whatever. It's all nonsense." More fiercely, he said, "Anyone can be whatever they need to be with the right help!"

It had taken Cheren far too long to realize that. As he surveyed the madman in front of him, he was acutely aware of how glad he was to have come to that understanding before he had had a chance to take his idyllic sense of strength or his ambitious goal for the champion title too far.

Hil had called Cheren his Hero and had told him Bianca felt the same way, but Cheren privately wondered if they had saved him.