Ch.36: Destroy Weakness, Suppress Love! Self-Destruction of a Storm!
Mt. Fragor. Of all the places in the Storm Zone to be struck down by lightning, it held the record for the most strikes in a year. Packed with minerals that drew the magically-charged lightning better than any common storm, it was a hot spot for brilliant flashes of light that brightened the sky. Some would watch at the bottom of the mountain to take in the majesty of the natural phenomenon taking shape.
That said, the mountain was also off limits due numerous fatalities, especially at the peak. No one was allowed atop the mountain for any reason, lest they be struck down with the most powerful force of nature to grace Mysto.
Though, some had…special access to use the mountain at their leisure.
Leroy Sapienti finished setting up the campsite. Two tents, a picnic table for outdoor eating, a mini fridge, and a giant awning with a lightning rod to redirect the storm's lightning away from the site.
He dusted his hands off. "There. Now we're all set." He turned to his son, laying atop the table and staring up at the awning.
Two weeks after quitting Team Ravenfield, Tony had spiraled into a glum state of mind bordering on depression. He hadn't spoken much since he parted ways with his friends, aside from his odd request to have his father step up his training. Leroy could see Tony was hurting inside. Leroy had to force the boy to eat and not sleep in all day.
It felt strange not to hear his son's annoying chatter. He almost longed for it, if only not to see the snarky Dewott so depressed. He wanted to do something, but he wasn't an expert at dealing with these types of situations. Instead, all he could do was offer advance training, hoping it would take Tony's mind off things.
"Tony," Leroy called out softly.
"Hmph?" Tony turned onto his side.
"Take this seriously. You said you wanted to get stronger, right?"
"Hmm…"
"I can't help you if you keep acting like a petulant child. If you're serious about receiving this training, you have to listen to me. It's for your safety and benefit."
Tony sighed. He flopped onto his back, then rolled up into a sitting position. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"
"First things first, put these on." Leroy tossed him a pair of black pants with blue runes weaved into the sides. "I recommend removing anything you don't want torched to cinders. After that, meet me at the plateau."
Tony watched his father leave, then looked down at the pants. He sighed, then undid the teal bandana wrapped around the right side of his face. Scabs formed over his right eye where patches of fur were missing. After the medical treatment given by Ambrosine, his eye was sealed shut until he could find a doctor about a new eye.
He went inside his tent and changed into the new pair of pants. He folded up his clothes and set three items atop of them: a rusty flask, the teal bandana, and prosthetic claws.
He stumbled out of his tent, shook the remnants of grief out of his mind, and marched up the plateau. He spotted his father standing at the peak, jabbing two rods into the ground. The lightning overhead seemed to stir when Leroy jammed the rods in, but no lightning came down.
Come to think of it, aside from the occasional strike on their lightning rod, no lightning bolts struck down near their campsite. Mt. Fragor was infamous for its periodic lightning strikes, yet they struck down other parts of the mountain, leaving theirs relatively safe.
"What's that bastard up to?" Tony grumbled.
Leroy sensed Tony's presence and turned to him. He glared at his son. "I'm warning you, what you're getting yourself into isn't for the faint of heart. I recommend backing out now."
"You haven't even told me why we're up here," Tony pointed out.
"Because I figured the details would've scared you off. You wanted the best possible training in magic control possible. Of course, I wouldn't be letting you do this if I didn't think you were capable of handling it. But it'll be the worst experience of your life."
Tony scowled. "Just tell me what to do."
Leroy sighed, then gestured to the rods in the ground. "Stand there and clutch the rods."
Tony approached them and took a second to examine them. Upon closer inspection, the rods were dark blue with silvery bits lining the outside like granules of sand. He clutched the top of each rod, then breathed in the wet air. He felt a tingling force surging through the rods. He felt the energy trapped inside the mountain from centuries of lightning strikes. The entire weight of an electrically charged mountain below his feet, sifting through his nervous system and leaving him more energized than he had in the last couple weeks.
"Final warning," Leroy spoke up.
Tony scoffed. "You still haven't told me what we're doing."
"And that's why this is your final warning. The key to being a powerful storm mage is master the natural form of your element. There's no greater place of mastery than the Storm Zone itself." Leroy glanced up at the sky. "Very few storm mages take the challenge on account of the excruciating dedication…and torturous experience."
"Torturous?" Tony asked, a twinge of concern in his voice.
"You're probably wondering why no lightning has struck around here yet. That's because I'm asking the storm to spare us of lightning."
Tony's eye widened. "Asking it to spare us? Wait, you can command the Storm Zone's storms?! But…I thought that was impossible!"
"Only to those unwilling to put in the effort. The storms operate of their own accord, but will lend their power to those who truly master them. To do that, however, is to feel the storm's power and channel it with complete mastery." Leroy glared up at the sky. "In others words, you have to let yourself be struck down by its lightning."
Tony's body tensed up. "Are you serious?! That's insane!"
"This is your final warning. Turn away now and find another way to get stronger if you must. Those rods were designed to attract the Storm Zone's lightning with far greater frequency than any lightning rod in Mysto. And connected into Mt. Fragor, that frequency will only triplicate and then some. And it's the most excruciating pain you'll face in your life." Leroy pulled his glare toward Tony. "So, are you going to back down or will you conquer the Storm Zone?"
Tony glanced up at the storm clouds. Lightning crackled ominously, skimming the bottom of the clouds like Sharpedo fins breaching water. A spiral shaped into the black clouds, a cluster of lightning crackling through in a whirlpool fashion. The sight made Tony's fur stand on end. He could sense the overwhelming power in the sky, its power and its domineering presence.
To conquer that power would give a mage dominion over the elements itself.
Tony swallowed, then glared back at his father, who sat by on his haunches with crossed arms and matched his son's glare with his own cold stare. Tony stretched his fingers, drummed them against the lightning rods, and nodded.
"Bring it on."
Leroy heaved a sigh. "Don't say I didn't warn you, boy." Without unfolding his arms, he lifted a single finger.
Thunder roared above like a dragon breaching the clouds and descending the sky to raze the land. Tony faced the dark clouds with a confident glare. He tightened his grip, feeling sweat accumulate in his palms. He watched the spiraling clouds gather lightning into its center, building and charging. Tony watched it intensely, sensing its accumulating power and ignoring the alarm bells in his head telling him to flee, telling him he was going to die.
Flashes of lightning blinded his vision. In that white light, he saw visions of a Raichu, a Pikachu, a Sneasel, and a Hypno. All smiling at him and laughing. A second set of visions flew by.
His mother and sister, injured and cornered by monsters.
His love, captured and dragged into the shadows.
His mentor, a bloody corpse with a haunting, final grin.
Tony growled through clenched teeth, then glared at the sky. "Come on…"
The lightning built up into an orb of blinding light, crackling sporadically.
"You don't scare me! Destroy me with everything you've got! HIT ME!"
A thick lightning bolt careened from the sky, instantly striking the plateau and illuminating the night sky in a cerulean blue. Unlike normal lightning, this one persisted, blasting into the plateau with everything it had. All the wild magic of the Storm Zone striking down in a concentrated blast of. Pure. Hell.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
Paralyzed by the lightning coursing through his body, all Tony could muster was a bloodcurdling scream no mortal would believe came from the mouth of a living creature, much less a Dewott. His body arched back on its own. His muscles contracted and squeezed around his bones. His organs felt like they were locked in stasis. He couldn't tell if his heart was beating anymore, yet that seemed trivial to the death shooting through his body.
His skin felt like it was bubbling and shifting, splitting open at the molecular level and repairing itself nanoseconds apart, millions upon millions of times over. Every atom of his body, from the biological to his very soul and magic itself, ripped themselves to shreds as if that would be the only way to end their suffering, yet persisted as if the lightning forcibly bound his atoms to remain in place.
Tony couldn't move a single muscle through his body, otherwise he would've let go of the lightning rods by now. What made the feeling thousands of times worse was his species' affinity to the archaic Water-Type, a type he only delved into for his water blades. The sweat under his palms, maybe even the water in his body, seemed to amplify the pain further. It was like his hands were magnetically sealed to the rods until fate threw the suffering Dewott a bone.
The eternal five seconds finally passed. The lightning strike vanished as quickly as it came down. Leroy raised his finger, signaling the storm to hold off, then approached his son with an even glare.
A thick cloud of smoke came off the Dewott's body as he hunched forward limply. Burns covered his body, leaving almost the entirety of his fur blackened to a crisp. Sparks of electricity surged off his fur, causing involuntary twitching. His death grip on the rods loosened once the muscles uncontracted. He faceplanted into the ground unceremoniously. The pants provided to him were the only thing unsinged by the lightning, infused with protective runes to keep them from being incinerated instantly.
Leroy pressed a hand on Tony's back and two fingers on the neck. He felt a heartbeat and a pulse, thankfully, though Tony was clearly in no condition for a second round with the storm.
Leroy shook his head. "Well, hopefully tomorrow you'll have better luck, assuming you haven't had enough." He picked Tony up, set him on his back, and lumbered back to their campsite.
Secretly, Leroy wasn't looking forward to the following weeks.
"HIT ME!"
The lightning struck down and drowned out Tony's screaming. Just like the day prior, he passed out after the first session, unable to move his body. Somehow, it felt less painful than the first time. Perhaps because he got use to the pain, or maybe it didn't seem as bad the next time around, like a child overcoming their fear of needles and no longer burdened by the pain amplified by their anxiety.
Unfortunately, a mere shot didn't compare to being bombarded with lightning. Whatever semblance of tolerance Tony developed was miniscule to the soul-tearing agony of having his very being set ablaze in magically-charged plasma.
He wouldn't see any meaningful improvement until Day 15 of training. The last fourteen attempts ended in the Dewott face down in the ground, burnt to a crisp, and his father force-feeding him potions and treating his wounds. Tony would be wrapped up like a mummy on some days only for those bandages to be turned to ash the next day.
It was a torturous endeavor to willing subject himself to deathly electrocution every single day and not turn tail. His father, despite his prior statement, would repeatedly ask Tony whether or not he wants to quit before any lasting damage sets in. Ever the stubborn Sapienti, Tony would crawl back out to the plateau and carry on, regardless of the aches and pains in his body.
He had to conquer the storms, no matter what.
By the fifteenth day, improvement was made. A repeated occurrence to each session was Tony passing out from the pain, forcing him to continue with the exercise the next day when his injuries were moderately healed up. Even with the pain in his body, the damage seemed to lessen the more he memorized the pain, cutting out the sensation of pain entirely if only to preserve his sanity.
By the fifteenth day, however, he didn't pass out immediately.
Tony withstood a lightning bolt and slumped forward, but he never let go of the rods, even when his muscles relaxed. Instead, after catching his breath and shaking off the pain wracked through his body, he glared up at the sky as if to taunt it.
"That…all you got, you stupid thunderclouds?"
The storm met his taunt with a second lightning bolt, knocking him out.
With progress being made, Tony kept going back to the plateau with greater determination than ever. Unfazed by the dangers and pain brought down on him, he faced the storms with gritted teeth and took their strikes with wild confidence. The destruction on his body worsened with repeated success, but his aura flared anew with each successful survival.
Soon, little by little, the damage lessened. His aura built in strength with each agonizing blast. It was no different to strengthening a muscle. One must destroy their muscles through hard work before it can grow stronger. Of course, that type of destroying came from a normal workout, not willingly subjecting one's self to thunderbolts from angry clouds.
With enough time, Tony stopped passing out from the pain, and eventually stopped screaming. He would lose the strength to hold on, and his father would have to drag him back to camp, but Tony kept pushing to continue regardless of his body's state.
Despite all the pain he had to go through just to get this far, he kept crawling back for more. Even with the havoc it left his body in, he shrugged the pain off as a nuisance. Now that he's adapted to the storm's rage, he just needed to grab it by the reins.
Sadly, he hit a roadblock in that department. No matter how many times he tried to command the Storm Zone's clouds, the lightning didn't heed his call. Not even swayed by his charm or wit or obscene outbursts from particularly painful thunderbolts, the storm acted as chaotic as ever, and Tony was a mere pebble to be torched by its divine wrath.
He tried and tried and tried. One day of rest decreased as he improved. As he got stronger, he would need to rest twice a day. Then three times. Then four. Five, seven, ten, twenty—until resting wasn't necessary anymore. All he needed was breakfast, lunch, and dinner to get through the day. All he needed to get through the session.
He took storms with pained expressions, but without a peep. He kept fighting it. He kept fighting the storm's uncontrollable power, seething with determination to conquer their wild nature and show them who is their master.
His grit proved strong, but it didn't get him closer to wielding their lightning as his own. It became less and less about mastering those storms, and realizing this was more than conquering the elements. The Storm Zone, in its own way, was sentient and aware of Tony's ambition. Each time they connected between lightning strikes, the storms sensed Tony's rage and anguish. In turn, Tony sensed the storm's unabashedly calm, yet feverous state of being. A state of absolute calm channeled with indominable rage.
A storm of tranquil fury.
"You still haven't connected with the storm."
Tony grunted as he shoved a spoonful of beans into his mouth. "I'm doing my damn best, you shitty old man. As if getting electrocuted to death wasn't the highlight of our little camping trip."
Leroy closed his eyes. "That's not the storm I was referring to."
"When did you start deploying the metaphorical bullshit? Tell me, is it really the storm I've made along the journey? Or do I need to look inside myself after a lesson on friendship?"
"I'm glad to see repeated incineration hasn't dulled your sharp tongue."
"Like a whetstone of bitterness after the hell you forced me into."
"I gave you several warnings and chances to stop at any time. You're the one who keeps going up there and submitting yourself to the storm's chaotic wrath." Leroy set his lunch down. "Frankly, I'm beginning to worry about your health."
"I'm fine," Tony growled. "I just need to focus on reining that stupid storm in." Thunder rumbled above them, followed by a bolt of lightning striking their awning. Tony turned and waved his fist at the clouds. "Oh, shut up!"
Leroy sighed. "Boy." Tony turned back and glared at his father. "I wasn't kidding about controlling your inner storm. You're still hung up about what happened to that Hypno and your girlfriend."
Tony's brow furrowed. "So?"
"You need to let go of that fury. It's not healthy."
"I can do whatever the damn hell I want."
"Do you honestly believe the Storm Zone will heed the commands of a brat acting just as chaotic as itself?" Leroy jabbed his finger into Tony's bare chest. "That storm will never listen to you if this is how you'll continue to carry yourself. This isn't how you're supposed to—"
Tony slapped the Samurott's hand away. "Like you have any authority to talk about what is or isn't right. Shall I remind you that you abandoned your family and left them to starve?"
"You know I didn't have the resources to provide—"
"That's not an excuse, and it never was. I don't care if you only got enough money to get by. You still could've done something to keep us off the streets. I wouldn't be out here having this conversation with you if you actually acted like a decent parent!"
Leroy huffed. "My terrible parenting has nothing to do with the conversation. You're just deflecting your anger onto me and ignoring that hate in your heart."
"I'm perfectly fine!"
"Are you?" Leroy pointed at the clouds. "I've done this test before, boy. It was the worst year of my life trying to endure that storm's lightning. But I got through it with a clear head and soul. If you don't let go of that fury in your heart, you'll never get anywhere. Even if you build up a resistance to the storm's power, you will still be forsaken under its dominion. That storm follows no master, no laws of nature. To truly conquer it is to become a being worthy of its power. How does one prove they are worthy if they let anger quake beneath their soul?"
"You don't know me at all—" Tony tried to get out, but Leroy shushed him.
"You're grieving, I get that. But it's been three months already." Leroy jabbed him in the forehead. "Get over it."
Tony snarled through clenched teeth. "I will NEVER forget Morgan or Indigo."
"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm demanding that you drop the attitude and focus on what's important. You came to me about this training, not the other way around. Dominion over the Storm Zone is one of the highest levels of Storm magic mastery any mage can achieve. I could've denied your request, but I knew leaving you alone would've done you worst. In fact, bringing you here might have been a mistake."
"I—"
"It's almost like you force yourself to get struck down because you feel like you deserve it—"
"Well, maybe I do!" Tony snapped, rising to his feet. "I could've saved them both, but I wasn't fast enough! I'm supposed to be the one protecting the family, not you or anyone else! I've done all I can to keep my friends safe, but I couldn't do anything. I was weak and powerless." Tony jabbed himself in the chest, right above his heart. "I almost lost Mom and Cheri once because I was being stupid. I lost my best friend to those stupid shadow creeps. Worst of all, I lost someone who was more of a father to me than you ever were!
"I don't care if everyone keeps saying it's not my responsibility or I couldn't have done anything. I should have! I have the speed and skill to change fate and save lives! But I'm nothing special! I'm just some street rat being selfish and being an asshole for kicks! If being punished by some glorified storm cloud is the only way to get results, then so be it!"
Lightning crackled above them. The light of the storm highlighted Tony's scowl and Leroy's neutral glare. Two mavericks of the storm itself. The tension in their stares could spark lightning.
"…Then I guess I have nothing left to teach you."
Tony's face fell. "Huh?"
Leroy stood up and dusted his hands off. "I'll still bring you food so you don't starve yourself, but clearly this is something I can't teach you." He glared down at the Dewott. "People die all the time, kid. It's a sad truth that bastards like me have to live with. Your friends had to cope with that same fear, but you don't see them drowning in self-loathing."
Tony's face twisted into a scowl. "Now hold on a fu—"
Leroy turned and walked away. "There's one other way to master the storms besides finding inner peace, and I know it'll be your first and only choice. I can guarantee you, though, that you'll come to regret it. After that, ask yourself this: who are you?"
"Who…am I?"
"See yourself in the eye of the storm, and reach out to the light. Grasp the truth of your nature, then set a sight for the path you trust in most."
And with that, in a flash of light, Leroy vanished off the campsite.
Tony stared at the smoking spot the Samurott once stood, then glanced back at the plateau. The storm rumbled louder than ever. The clouds seemed to turn darker. He could've sworn the lightning turned purple for a moment. The chills in the air told him everything.
His real test was about to start.
"Tch. Stupid old man."
Tony collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting heavily. A heavy dose of sparks surged off his body and transferred through the ground beneath him. Smoke rose off his body, but this time without patches of fur burned clean off. Not only had he grown the burnt fur back, but his aura was also strengthening against the repeated blasts, steadily becoming resistant, if not outright immune, to the storm's destructive blasts.
So, why was he struggling to call upon the storm's power?
He glared up at the sky. Once he found his voice, he yelled, "What do you want from me? I've put up with you for months now! Is there anything left to tell me?! I've let you have your fun, but what purpose is to this stupid game?! Have I not proven my worth yet? I've tanked hundreds of your pitiful bolts! Surely, I've earned your respect to call your power my own!"
He punched the ground, then forced himself to his feet, wobbling unsteadily as he did so. "Is this about what the shitty old man said? Am I just not worthy of your power? Do I have to quell the storm that plagues my soul? Rubbish, all rubbish! I've never been in better control of myself! Do I look like a sad clown to you, Storm Zone?! Well…DO I?!"
Purple lightning breached the clouds, but didn't strike down. Whether or not the storm heard Tony's outcry was irrelevant. It was him against the greatest mystical phenomenon in all of the Storm Zone. There was no point to settle a dispute with words.
Tony grasped the rods and allowed himself to be bombarded with electricity yet again. Rather than think of the pain going through his body, Tony closed himself off into his mind, struggling for some point to these endless trials. Even with the time his father spent watching him from nearby, Tony had never felt more alone with his thoughts in his life. Nothing but his internal anguish and guilt.
His fault, his fault, his fault. It repeated without end through his mind. How can he be a protector if he wasn't strong enough to save lives? Was that not his destiny? Was he not a protector? Was he destined to fail and lose lives?
How much did he contribute to Team Ravenfield? He robbed them, nearly pawned off their literal keys to their destiny, put his family in danger through reckless abandonment, and left them to pursue some selfish dream. He couldn't even beat one of the ten mages on his own, twice. Gwyn overcame Margo. Griffin overcame Seraphina. Flint, who was handicapped, overcame Vernon. Wes overcame Randolph. Their team overcame Calder and worked to bring down Benedict.
Tony loss to his father twice, given the key out of pity. Leroy said otherwise, but were his words true?
Did Tony's contributions truly matter in the end? What was he good for? If not a protector, what was he? What lesson was he supposed to learn from getting incinerated by lightning every day?
When said lightning passed, Tony exhaled, then gazed forward past the plateau's edge. Before him stood the visions of Indigo and Morgan, smiling at him. Their ghosts or his hallucinations? Why were they happy to see him, regardless? He failed. How long until he saw the ghosts of his friends? His family?
Why did losing someone you cared about feel so painful?
Tony closed his eye and huffed through his nose. "I don't like feeling this way. I just…feel so cold." He clenched tighter around the rods. "Why does caring about someone so much have to feel so horrible when they're gone? Is it because I'm truly the culprit to their untimely demises, or am I simply a puppet being dragged across this tragedy of a play?"
Sparks surged through his whiskers. Tears fell down the left side of his face, though the scabs over his right eye glistened. His body shuddered, but he dared not cry out into the storm. The aching in his heart brought him pain. He wanted it to stop hurting so much.
Never again.
"If this is what it means to love," Tony whispered softly, voice cracking under the strain, "then I don't want…to have my heart shattered again."
He opened his eye. Tears glistened around it, but his eye reflected no shimmer or reflection, a pitch black void absent of its gentle light. Only the sparks surging through his body reflected off his vacant stare, the emotionless void.
"I'll quell this storm inside me…and use this power to rid myself of all that brought me pain. The shadows…and that bastard, Aeternus. Destroy them all, and conquer the land at its lowest. A perfect tranquil fury of my own."
Six months. Six months of torment, constant struggle and reeling from pain, had paid off in the end.
Tony stood at the edge of the plateau, arms crossed, as he stared out into the horizon with a solemn glare. His lightning-proof pants were worn and torn from the brutal six months of training, tattered at the ankles and littered with holes. He wore his old clothes, along with the teal bandana tied around his neck. The lack of care to his fur had caused it to grow out, leaving him something of a beard around his chin and unkempt whiskers.
Tony breathed in the electrified air, then stared up as a mass of purple lightning gathered above him. He pulled a small jar from his pocket and undid the cork. He pointed up at the storm clouds, feeling a spark leave his fingertip as if it tried to reach the lightning itself.
"I've survived your hell, Storm Zone. Now give me everything you've got, and we shall put your power to use. We'll raze the scum of Mysto and claim it as our own. If crime prevails, then we shall control it. To the new world!"
Purple lightning struck down on top of Tony at alarming speeds, faster than any lightning bolt ever seen by the average or even trained observer. Tony, however, stared back at it as it closed the distance between them.
Its speed was nothing but a slow crawl for him. He had all the time in the world to prepare.
Tony raised the jar towards the approaching lightning bolt. With his free hand, fingers pressed tightly together, he snapped.
The lightning split around Tony and bombarded the ground. A steady, thin stream filtered into the jar and collected into a tight, concentrated mass until it was aglow in an amethyst light.
Tony opened his eye and examined the jar as the lightning calmed down inside. It took shape into a small storm cloud, crackling with sparks. He could feel its power inside, surging through his aura from contact with the glass. He popped the cork back on and, with the string attached to it, tied it around his neck.
He took a deep breath, taking in as much air as he could, and spun towards his campsite. He clicked his fingers and called down a ferocious bombardment of lightning. He forced it around the lightning-attracting awning torched the entire campsite. Everything from the mini fridge, the food, and whatever else brought by his father went up in flames.
Tony spun around and clicked his fingers again, casting down lightning off the plateau and striking the land below. He snapped his fingers all around the mountain, calling down bolts of lightning in a ring around himself. The crackling power vibrated the air with miniature explosions, blasting back Tony's wild fur. He stared into the explosion without his glare faltering.
He raised his hands above his head and, with one final click, casted down lightning on top of himself. Instead of engulfing him, however, Tony struck the bolt and caught it through his fingers. Lightning surged through his arm and into his body, causing his fur to stand on end. He aimed his other hand out toward the sky and fired the lightning through his fingertips. It breached the clouds and punched a hole straight through their darkness.
Tony took a deep breath, then blew the smoke off his fingers. "Piece of cake."
He shoved his hands inside his pockets and jumped down the plateau, hopping off protrusions as he descended towards ground level. He conquered the Storm Zone without his father's guidance, and he never felt better.
Now, after he got his missing eye situation figured out, what to do with his newfound free time?
Where to start with the mass slaughter of the Anguis Organization?
With the coming approach of the Anguis Organization and its army, Tony ordered his thieves to prepare for battle. They gathered their stolen weapons and fortified their defenses around the camp for any and all possible threats. Though they were dealing with shadows, too, Tony was more than prepared to annihilate them instantly.
After all, all that mattered was slaughtering Aeternus.
Tony and Wolf gathered in the main tent, discussing the plan for the enemy's arrival. Callista lay in her cage, watching them work with one eye open, mostly paying attention to Tony.
Wolf pointed to a spot on the map and explained, "We have pitfall traps being dug out by our underground team. We can incapacitate a handful of their troops and destroy the tunnels leading back to here for an easy escape. Once we've thinned their numbers, dealing with their general should be much easier with all our forces combined."
Tony nodded. "Good, good. Do we have anything on their leading general?"
"Other than he's some ugly looking mutt, we've got nothing. We can't even tell what kind of Pokémon he is."
"Hmph. Well, not like that's ever stopped me." Tony punched the table and grinned darkly. "More reason to fry that insignificant worm to dust."
Wolf frowned. "Of…course, Boss. J-Just as long as our troops get out unscathed."
"Yes, yes, they will," Tony brushed off, pacing around. "I wonder if I should just call down the full power of the Storm Zone and blister the land. Oh, but why not give our enemy the chance to beg for their lives? It'll be much more amusing to watch them grovel before I burn their living corpses."
Wolf cringed at the imagery. "I know these guys are bad people, but…that seems overkill."
"Half of them are corrupted monsters, Wolf. Death's too good for them." Tony smirked over his shoulder. "So, why not make a show out of their corpses?"
Callista's brow furrowed with irritation. She picked up her little dreamcatcher and played with the threading.
Wolf rolled up their map and turned away from Tony, hiding his nervous expression. "Boss, permission to speak out of term."
"What is it?" Tony asked, sounding as if he was in his own little world.
Wolf narrowed his eyes. "I don't like these guys anymore than you do, and I wouldn't feel sympathy for the lives being taken. They're bad people. Even so…" He clutched the map tightly. "The thieves and I are kind of concerned for you. You've been a little…too excited about facing these guys. It's starting to scare everyone."
Tony scoffed. "Is that all? You're still kids. It's not a big deal. I'm perfectly fine."
"I'm not so sure about that," Wolf mumbled.
Tony glared over his shoulder. Wolf tensed up, seeing the sparks fly from Tony's eye, even under his bandage. "Are you questioning my authority as your leader?"
"N-No. I-I trust your judgment, Boss, but…"
"But what?"
Wolf gulped. "I'm more worried about you. I never brought it up, but it feels like you've become more hostile with each day. Some of the others are scared of you, and rightfully so. Aren't you worried about us, too?"
"…" Tony looked away and glared at the tent walls. "Just make sure everyone's prepared for battle."
Wolf sighed and saluted. "Yes, sir." He dragged his feet out the tent.
Callista narrowed her eyes, then glanced back at Tony as he leaned back on the worktable. She stood up and asked, "So, did my story not reach you as intended?"
"Lay off, witch," Tony grumbled. "What I said applies to you, too."
"There's a number of ways that can be interpreted, and none of them do either of us good." Callista approached the bars and tapped on them. "From where I stand, you've become more of an enemy to those kids than whatever Puck sent to hunt you down. You're not actually thinking of sacrificing them just to satisfy your revenge, right?"
"I'll do what is necessary."
"And what is necessary? Was I correct in my assertion you would be using those kids as sacrificial pawns? That's low, even for you. It's the same shit Puck would—"
"I told you, I'm nothing like Aeternus!" Tony snapped, slamming his fist into the worktable so hard that it split down the middle. He shook off the splinters and pointed accusingly at Callista. "I'll be doing the world a favor by eradicating his smug ass off the face of the planet!"
"Has it ever occurred to you that's what Puck wants?" Callista hissed. "Listen to yourself and think. Puck doesn't care about death, as long as he gets what he wants. He clearly sees you as a suitable successor, and with each passing day of your rotten attitude, it gets harder to tell the difference between the clown and the funhouse mirror."
"You're so full of shit. I haven't changed at all. I've just taken a different approach to killing that madman. The right way."
Callista scoffed. "Says the mad Dewott who doesn't care if his friends were killed. Here's an interesting scenario. Suppose I got my hands on Gwyn's soul and sacrificed it. She'd be erased, just like her mother's soul. Would you still say you feel nothing?"
Tony's scowl deepened. "I'm not playing your games." He turned away from her.
"Perhaps that's too tame for you? Hmm, I've got another one." A cruel glint danced off Callista's eyes, something that hadn't shown up since she awoken from her abyss. "I wonder if I could find use…for a Pikachu puppet—"
Callista braced herself as a crack of lightning slammed into the cage. She narrowed her eyes and looked into Tony's savage grimace, then to the electrified blade pointed at her face. Despite his speed, she didn't flinch once. Instead, she just laughed it off, angering the Dewott further.
"If you even think of plucking a hair from her head—" Tony started to growl, but Callista jabbed his shoulder through the cage.
"Thank you, Sapienti," Callista hummed. "That was all I needed."
Tony's rage subsided a bit, mixed with newfound confusion. He batted her foreleg off, stashed his scalchop away, and marched out of the tent. "I need a drink."
"Yeah. You do that," Callista muttered.
She watched Tony exit the tent, then breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't admit out loud how terrified she was there. Feigning emotionlessness came naturally when you spend five hundred years mercilessly robbing souls under the influence of a suppressive darkness.
"At least I now know you haven't completely closed off your heart," she mumbled. She pulled out the dreamcatcher again, then glanced over her shoulder. "He's gone, kid."
The bottom of the tent walls rose with Wolf sneaking through. He walked up to her cage and grabbed the bars. "I still don't trust you."
"But you're worried about your precious leader," Callista whispered. "You have every right to be skeptical of me, kid, but this is for his own good."
"Are you sure we'll be enough?"
"I don't need my shadow magic to get shit done. I've still got a handful of contracts at my disposal." Callista raised her foreleg as a dark fog seeped from her body. "These contracts were earned by the destruction of innocent lives. I'll never be forgiven for my misdeeds, influenced or not, but I can at least use these demons for something…productive."
Wolf clutched the bars tightly, hesitating for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. You remember the plan, right?"
"Do the others know?"
"Yeah."
Callista nodded. With a little sleight of hand, so to speak, she revealed three strands of blue fur. "In that case…" She picked up the dreamcatcher and started weaving the hairs into it. "Time to give Sapienti a much needed timeout."
Dread passed through the air as a wave of darkness traversed the stormy landscape, like a black tsunami charging through solid ground and approaching unsuspecting land. Shadows, whole clusters of them, advanced towards the distant campsite, laughing manically and sharpening their amorphous claws.
Leading the pack was a behemoth of a monster, each one of its powerful legs trembling the ground with the simplest of steps. It looked like a giant, rotund canine with its most distinguishing feature being the large gaping mouth with rows of teeth deep within its maw. Its jaw protruded outward compared to the rest of its body, giving it a massive underbite. Its lack of eyes didn't impede its sense of direction. By the way it panted so huskily, it was like it could taste its desired direction through the air.
A shadow appeared from the ground and bowed to the monster. "General Famine, we have an update on our targets. They seem to be preparing for battle as we speak."
Famine grunted his response in a series of harsh, gravelly barks. Acidic-smelling spit slobbered out of his huge maw, splashing down into disgusting, slimy puddles.
The shadow bowed again. "Of course. Raze everything, but leave the Dewott alive. As Master Puck commands."
Famine snarled more commands, wagging his spike-balled tail in excitement.
"Of course, General Famine. You're eager to fight Sapienti. We shall leave him to you and you alone. Do you request any assistance should the battle prove too dangerous?"
Thunder rumbled above their heads. A light drizzle came down, clinking off Famine's silver armor. Famine grunted furiously and stamped his feet down, shaking his grounded army of possessed Pokémon and Anguis grunts.
"My apologies, General Famine. I did not mean to insult you." The shadow retreated into the ground.
Famine panted excitedly, getting a delightful taste from the stormy air. An electrifying power, a divine cuisine unlike anything he had ever tasted before, mixed with the air. The closer they approached the camp, the more succulent and radiant the taste was. He desired it so badly, but would have to restrain himself to secure their prize.
He satisfied himself enough on any forces foolish enough to impede their advances. He could still feel the powdered bones caught between his rows of teeth. He'll have to get those cleaned out, but not now. He had a buffet to get to soon.
A Famine was coming to rid the world of its precious resources.