Apénanti


Inyssa could do little but stare in disbelief as Cynthia began to speak.

"My dear, dear citizens of Sinnoh, and even those watching from beyond our borders, let us bask in a short moment of reflection and reverence, before the festivities truly begin." She spoke candidly, her voice carrying a latent, burning strength which made it impossible not to want to listen to her. "Normally my opening speech would be short and to the point, but our current situation necessitates that I elaborate further.

"It is to my own displeasure that I've decided to do this. I would want nothing more than to let my people celebrate on this fine day, but as a Champion I must not forget the duties I've been assigned with. As such, here is what I must say…"

Her gaze went from one end of the crowd to the other.

"Twelve years ago in this very day, Sinnoh's forces battled Kanto in the heart of their region, Viridian City. That day, the war was ended. That day, thousands of innocents died an early death, sprouted by the darkness of the human race." Cynthia's fingers gripped the microphone a bit too strongly, her stormy grey eyes flashing with anger. "Some would say we won that day, though if there is any victory in bloodshed then it is not one I'd want to claim for myself. True; I was the one who dealt the final blow, but I take no pride in this. Just as a doctor would take no pride in cutting off a person's limb once it's begun rotting.

"Many of you must be wondering what I mean by this. Let me be clear; the war against Kanto was a completely unnecessary one. Many would call me a liar, unpatriotic or worse things for pointing this out, but it is the absolute truth. It was a petty conflict born out of the greed of those in power at the time; a squabble over land and trade rights that had no business escalating into an all out war. It was a clear sign that those who ruled us were weak, spirit-less cowards who only cared for themselves, and were willing to throw as many trainers and soldiers to the problem as necessary. It was a sign that we, as a nation, needed to change. And change did come, even if it was at a great cost. Let me elaborate on what I mean:

"Even as a young girl, I realized that what many knew as spirit was not a symbol or a myth. Growing up in this town, surrounded by all of you, I came to understand that inside each human being lies an ember, a fire which can never go out. It is what gives us the courage to face every new day with fierce determination, it is what makes the sun rise and the grass grow. It is the primal, all encompassing strength that has allowed us to come so far as a species. It is our emotion, our valor and our wisdom, and so much more than that.

"However, much like any flame, our spirit is prone to outside forces. Many do not have the necessary strength to take care of it, to help it grow as it is supposed to do. As such, lacking the inner warmth they could never achieve on their own, they search for other ways to fill the emptiness in their chest. Greed, wrath, envy and despair. They quench themselves with it, wallowing in their own weakness as if it were a badge of pride. It is a sickness, one that can spread from person to person via many means.

"I realized that if I were not to do something, the entirety of Sinnoh might fall to such a pest. Even if we won the war, those in charge would've still been there, attributing themselves victory and growing their own reserves while letting the rest of us to rot. As such, I did what anyone in my position would've done: I led a strike against Sinnoh, my beloved region, in order to save it from its sickness. I defeated the previous Champion, dismantled the top and created the League Association in less than a year, burning and quenching under my feet every last remnant of the weakness of spirit my previous superiors had shown.

"After, it was only a matter of months before I was able to lead the final strike against Kanto, though not without help. It was the determination and bravery of my fellow trainers which made this possible. Many would say it was a quick turnaround, but I believe it could've been a lot quicker. Every second we weren't working towards ending the war the sickness spread, and innocent people died. As I said, there is no pride to be found in what we did, but it had to be done.

"Most of you must be wondering why I'm telling you this. The war ended long ago, of course, and ever since we've bloomed as a nation and as a people. But I'm afraid to say that our fight, while long and painful, has not ended yet. I… well, I'm sure you've all been made aware of the group of terrorists who call themselves Team Galactic."

In the few seconds of silence she allowed her audience, a wave of whispers and general sounds of discomfort were heard all around. They were silenced as soon as she began to speak again.

"Many have lodged complaints against the Association, and against my desire to extend the fight past ourselves. They believe we should be the ones to destroy this hateful group, without realizing that their soldiers are not our greatest threat. It is their ideology, something that all of us, as a nation, must fight against in unison.

"I know we're all are tired of such conflicts. The war is still fresh in our memory, as well as the faces of those we loved, those who lost their life to make Sinnoh a better place. Still, it is precisely the reason why we must not let such an ideology grow further. Should we rest, should we allow them to have a voice, they will expand not only through Sinnoh but throughout the entire world. If we don't act now, we might as well be preparing for another war. We need to be better than those who came before us; we need to be able to learn from history.

"We are all responsible for what happens to our nation. Each and every single one of us, has a chance at changing fate. It is time we seize it."

The feeble silence which followed her words was soon broken as a wave of cheers and clapping deafened her. She allowed herself a loving smile as she stared at her audience, before raising a hand to let them know she wanted to speak again.

"With that said, it wouldn't be fair to let you all wallow in worry and fear in such a beautiful, sunny day." She looked up at the sky, a hopeful smile stretching across her face. "Let us rejoice for now, eating and laughing and loving to our heart's content, for there is no better way to–"

Her voice trailed off. She held her arms raised to the side, frozen, as her smile died on her lips. All those who'd been listening returned to reality with a jolt, like Magikarp being suddenly taken out of the water. Free from the alluring spell of her voice, they began to wonder and exchange looks of confusion with each other.

Why had Cynthia stopped? What was she staring at? And why…?

"Such a long time it's been, and yet you haven't changed at all."

The voice which erupted through the speakers made most folk's blood run cold. Sharp as a knife, unsettling as nails on a chalkboard. And yet it held the same effect as that of the Champion; it traveled through the air as a command, urging everyone to hear it.

"You call for violence, to crush under your heel the only threat against your rule, and yet you dare think yourself better than those you've usurped?" The voice traveled through the crowd like icy wind. "Your hypocrisy knows no bounds, my dear Champion. Only fools and mindless fanatics could be swayed by your empty words."

If anyone would've been staring at Cynthia then, they would've seen realization flash across her eyes, followed by the tips of her shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

"Show yourself!" Her voice echoed through the crowd, no longer amplified by the now dead microphone in her hand. "If you wish to speak nonsense then at least have the gall to say it to my face!"

"Of course, that bravado of yours is as present as usual," the stranger spoke once more. "To think you have to raise your voice just to be on par with me, it speaks volumes of how faint the power of your so called spirit is."

Cynthia parted her lips to reply, but then her eyes fell on a shape in the distance. Her words died on her throat.

Most people, including Inyssa and Barry, followed the trajectory of her gaze and looked over their shoulders. The unmistakable shape of a person stood a couple streets behind and up, the sun casting shadows on most of his body. He waited a moment and then began to walk at a brisk pace towards the park, hands behind his back.

Once he was at a reasonable distance, they could make out his appearance. He was a tall man with combed back, faded blue hair. His face was unnaturally pale, skin looking almost stretched out, and his eyes were as cold and hollow as the harshest of winters. He wore a black and grey uniform, with a yellow G stamped over his heart.

Inyssa felt her stomach drop, and next to her Barry let out a choked gasp. It was him; the same man they'd met at Lake Verity and in front of the statue in Eterna.

"I came here to talk, Champion, and yet you seem ready and eager to hurt me. Your over reliance on might and violence demonstrates not only your own weakness, but the very sickness that has spread through Sinnoh thanks to the likes of you." He spoke without any intonation whatsoever. "However, I agree that introductions are in order. Only then will people around the world be able to put a face to the truth I am about to tell."

He stopped before reaching the rest of the audience, about a stone throw's away from a frozen Inyssa and Barry. For a single moment it seemed as if he veered his gaze towards them, but once they blinked they saw him staring at the Champion again.

"My name is Cyrus," he declared, tone lacking any kind of emotion. "I am the leader of Team Galactic."


"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sarah's nose crinkled ever so slightly, the smallest sign of irritation she could allow herself to show outwardly. Other than that she stood as firm as a statue, arms crossed so tightly it would've been difficult to untie them from each other. Her gaze was set on the steel door in front of her, which led to the maximum security cell. Her maximum security sell.

"I am perfectly sure, boss. Thank you for asking."

Just in case the dryness of her voice wasn't enough, she looked up and to the side, her eyes falling on the man who'd spoken. He was tall and slim, features which were carefully polished into elegance by his garnet-colored suit and black shirt underneath. Wavy sheets of satin-like purple hair fell to his shoulders, the same color as those prying and curious eyes behind his oval shaped glasses. He stood next to her calmly, like a willow bending towards the wind. If he noticed the exasperation on her face, he did not show it.

"Well, whatever it takes to keep me away from that god forsaken festival in Celestic," he sighed. "Take all the time you need, Sarah. I'll be waiting upstairs, ready to intervene should anything happen."

Her gaze veered down for a moment, towards the belt slightly hidden by the fold of his suit. Six polished Ultraballs adorned it, each surely containing a Pokemon more powerful than any she'd ever seen, not that she knew much about the subject. She wasn't a trainer, after all. Still, she could recognize someone's expertise by the way they carried themselves, and the man next to her wore the title of Elite Four member down to the marrow of his bones.

"Thanks, Lucian." She smiled for the first time that day, the muscles of her cheeks feeling strangely sore. "I'm going in."

She pressed the back side of her business card against the electronic panel of the door, which unlocked after flashing a few lights and letting out electronic chirps. It opened up to a wide, poorly illuminated room divided into two sections by a thick sheet of bulletproof glass in the middle of it.

The other side sported a modest, somewhat comfy living room. Sink, toilet, bed, table and of course two security cameras filming every angle of the room, protected by small cages made of the same material as the transparent wall. The wall which separated Sarah from the young, redheaded woman at the other side.

She only hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. She'd been hesitant about transferring those apprehended in the Veilstone incident to a prison as strict and high security as that of Stark mountain, but after learning more about the true extent of Mars' abilities she understood the reason for it.

They'd finally been able to transfer her to her own room, after one of the guards came up with the idea of using paralyzing gas on her from a distance. It had taken a lot more than they thought necessary, but after the woman fell unconscious they were able to treat her most serious wounds and transfer her to this room. Not that she'd ever tried to escape, strangely enough.

Mars breathed in deeply as she sat against the furthermost wall of her cell. She tilted her head to the side, opening her eyes lazily like she'd just woken up. She parted her lips as if she were about to speak, but simply let out a long yawn which showed Sarah every one of her teeth.

"Now that's what I call a nap." She stretched one arm up, grabbing the shoulder with her other hand. Her voice was slow and throaty. "Hello, Sarah. Nice of you to come visit."

"I've come to ask you some questions, since you seem to have recovered from your injuries," said Sarah, voice taciturn. "Your cooperation on the matter will be to your own benefit."

Sarah tried her best not to imbue her voice with any kind of emotion, nor to show any sort of recognition. It was not her job, after all.

However, she didn't fail to notice the glint of a smile on Mars' cold eyes. "Always so professional, eh? Well, I can respect a woman who takes her job seriously," she said. "I'm still sorry about what I did to your son, by the way. I hope you're not still mad about that."

Words got caught up on her throat, along with something heavy and hot which she had to swallow down.

"I would like you to tell me whatever you can about Team Galactic." Her tone was plain, unnaturally so, as she spoke. "Since you seem to be the only member who hasn't lost her memory following the events of…"

"Then again, it'd be hypocritical of you to judge me," Mars interrupted, the corners of her lip forming the shadow of a smile. "I only gave Barry a little cut on the cheek, something to remember me." She bit her bottom lip, laughter bubbling under her voice. "You've done much worse than that, so I'd appreciate it if you got off that high Ponyta of yours."

Sarah's shoulders tensed tightly, her expression wavering for a moment.

"Where are your headquarters located?" she asked. "I have a map with me; if you wish you could simply point at the exact location and…"

"Not gonna react to my taunts, huh? How boring." Mars threw her head back, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Mind if I take another nap? I'd rather that than continue with this dull conversation."

"If you're not willing to cooperate, then I will take my leave," said Sarah. "I'll have your food rations shortened. Hopefully it will convince you to be a little more cooperative."

Mars shrugged, "You could do that. Or you could stop wasting both our time and ask me what you actually want to know."

Her last word was followed by an echoing, physical silence. All traces of humor fell from her expression like a cracked mask, like an invisible veil.

They locked eyes; Mars' were as sharp as cold as before, but this time they were also sane and terribly serious. Across them flashed a recognition which Sarah couldn't ignore, it was the same she'd been trying so hard to contain. She felt the silence turning her limbs stiff, holding her hostage.

She could think of only one way to break it. She spoke before her mind could process the words.

"What happened to you, Siffa?"

Mars unconsciously raised her lower lip, as if her old name had hit her harder than she'd expected it to. Her body looked tense, like the string of a bow drawn to its breaking point.

"I tumbled once, and never figured out how to stop," she said. "I guess you could say my naiveté and my bad decisions got mixed together at the worst of times."

Sarah hadn't expected her to actually answer, much less with what sounded like honesty. Then again she hadn't expected to ask either. As she stood there, unsure of what to say, it became clear that at some point the interrogation had grown past her control.

She took another, closer look at Mars. It had been clear as day in the photo, but in person it was far worse. The image of the young, bright eyed Siffa contrasted so violently with the woman in front of her that she didn't want to believe they were the same person. Mars was a terrorist and a murderer, while Siffa was…

That train of thought came to a sudden halt. Ashamed, she had to admit to herself that she had no idea what Siffa had been before she suddenly became Shadi and Ciro's travel partner. Not because of lack of effort, either. After long hours of investigation Sarah was not able to find a single document or ID or even a mention of anyone named Siffa that fit the girl's profile. As if she had never existed to begin with, evidence to the contrary sitting in front of her notwithstanding.

So she's either a ghost or…

The possibility had been dancing on her mind for the past few days. She didn't want to believe it; those had been nothing but rumors after all. And yet…

No family nor a documented life. No fingerprints. Extremely adept at hand to hand combat, stealth and assassination…

Back during the thick of the war, before the new Champion took hold of her title, rumors had spread of a new breed of soldiers developed by the military elites. Rumors of children who had been kidnapped while young and trained in the art of assassination. Rumors of the terrifying monsters they became, their eyes cold and ruthless, their steps as hushed as a whisper.

As a young lieutenant, Sarah often ordered her soldiers to stop spreading such obvious lies and instead focus on the task ahead of them. Back when she was naïve as well, back when she still believed in the morals of a Sinnoh she loved so much.

She didn't want to believe it then, but now it seemed almost insulting to ignore the evidence she'd been presented with. Looking into Mars' eyes, she could imagine someone like her going through such a grueling and horrifying childhood.

What didn't make sense, however, was what came after. If her theory was true then how did someone like Siffa go from killing people to being a normal teenager and then to becoming a terrorist? Something was missing, and it irritated her to no end.

"You're not denying it, then?" Sarah asked. "You really are Siffa."

Another twitch of her lower lip, though slightly more controlled.

"You could say that. I don't go by that name anymore, though."

In a distant part of her mind, Sarah felt relieved to hear that. The last thing she wanted was to associate the Siffa she knew with the criminal in front of her.

She unconsciously crossed her arms, as if bracing herself for her next question. "What happened that day in Victory Road?" Her voice felt coarse in her throat. "You were there, weren't you?"

Mars nodded almost robotically, her eyes distant.

"It wasn't anything unexpected, even if I personally didn't see it coming," she said. "Shadi took her ambitions a step too far. She'd groomed us to be the perfect little slaves and didn't like it when we finally decided to stand up to her. She killed Ciro and tried to do the same to me, though she wasn't able to finish me off."

To say she wasn't expecting such an answer would've been putting it lightly. This time she couldn't help it as her mouth hung slightly agape, the impassibleness of her face breaking completely at Mars' casual and unabashed honestly.

"I find that hard to believe," she said, voice thin.

"So did I at first," shrugged Mars. "Though thankfully, denial doesn't last long in presence of the truth."

She tried to think of what to say or ask next, still baffled. That couldn't… that couldn't possibly be true, could it? Shadi was… well, perhaps not a good person but definitely a law-abiding citizen, and the one accusing her of murder was an assassin herself. What reason did she have to believe it? So what if she sounded sincere? It was utterly ridiculous.

"What happened after?" Sarah asked against her better judgment. "Where is Shadi?"

Mars formed a lopsided smile. "Wouldn't I love to know. I haven't seen her since; though not for lack of trying."

Sarah remembered the photo she'd been shown of Shadi's Charizard flying through the night a month back or so. The mind-bogglingly size of the beast, the dark figure riding on her back and the full moon shining above them both. She remembered the chills she got back then, how a spark of both hope and fear had sprouted in her chest. Hope that, maybe, Shadi was still alive and they could find her. Hope that Inyssa could be reunited with her. Hope that Sarah could at least be partly responsible for returning that innocent brightness to the girl's eyes that had vanished ever since her sister's disappearance.

And yet, there was also the fear of Shadi's survival meaning that she was free to tell anyone about... that day. That dark, horrible promise they'd made to each other. All so she could protect her, so she could...

Sarah shook her head. "What... more can you tell me?" she asked. "How did you end up…?"

Her wrist started beeping, a most unwelcomed sound that startled to the point of letting out a small gasp. Frowning, she looked down at the bulky Pokétch on her right arm whose screen was flashing red with the word Urgent written in black.

It took a considerable amount of restraint not to throw the thing across the room.

"Behave yourself," she ordered. "I'll be back to talk to you later."

She turned around to exit the room, but Mars' voice caught her before she could reach the door.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she grinned. "I have a feeling I won't staying here much longer."

Sarah's hand hovered over the doorknob. She turned around slowly.

"What are you…?"

There was a sound like the cackle of electricity, followed by the light in the room flickering off. For an instant there was silence, until it turned back on again, much weaker this time.

"The backup generator?" Sarah whispered to herself. "How…"

The door swung open, the only thing preventing it hitting Sarah in the face being her quick reflexes as she took a step back. Lucian appeared at the sill, face unnaturally pale and eyes wide behind his oval shaped glasses.

"Sarah, we are needed on the upper floors!" He spoke swiftly and with authority, barely raising his voice. "The power has gone down, the alarms haven't sounded yet and I can't contact the wards near the surface."

She allowed herself a short nod before she bolted towards the hallway outside, almost crushing her boss against the side of the door. All thoughts of Mars and Shadi left her mind as her body sunk back into the flight or fight response it was so accustomed to. Lucian followed soon after, locking the electronic door behind him.

Inside the room, Mars leaned back and closed her eyes expectantly. She smiled a terrible smile, waiting for what she knew was to come.


Metchi took her first step into Lake Valor, a step which was a lot more resolute than she expected.

The water shimmered gold under her feet in a straight line, the psychic barrier she'd deployed ridding her of the need for a boat. Monferno walked behind her, clicking his tongue nervously at being surrounded by about a million gallons of what he hated most. Azelf had gone quiet for the past few minutes, though she could feel its presence like a reassuring blanket of warmth all around her.

She set foot on the edge of the small island in the middle of the lake. A few feet ahead sat a pyramid-shaped cave the size of a small house, though she knew that was only the surface of it. The rock was dark and smooth, almost like glass, and even through the countless years of wind and water erosion she could make out traces of ancient carvings on the outside. She remembered the glittering, white stones that comprised most of the mountain Sootopolis was located in; this felt like the exact opposite of that.

Looking at it, a foreign wave of nostalgia filled her chest and she felt her eyes sting. She'd never been in this place before, but she could feel it calling to her, as if it were her own home. Some of Azelf's longing was intertwined with hers as well, which a few days sooner would've surprised her. The legendary Pokemon wasn't usually so keen on sharing its own emotions with her.

"All right then."

The entrance led to a poorly built set of stairs, leading deeper into the cavern. The inside was as dark as a Pyroar's maw, which is why she was grateful for Monferno's flame lighting the way as they walked. It wouldn't have been fitting for her to slip on one of the steps and break her neck after all that had happened.

As thin and claustrophobic as the downward hallway was, Metchi was surprised at the actual size of the room it led to. She could barely see the edge of it in front of her and at the sides. The floor, walls and ceiling not only were made from the same material as the outside but they were sprinkled with strange, sparkling blue stones that gave off a strong enough light to illuminate about half of the place, leaving small patches of darkness all over.

Chargestones, she thought with a wave of excitement. Never thought I'd see some outside of Unova.

Her enthusiasm was short lived, however, as she took a few more steps into the cavern. To say she was startled would've been a lie. Sure, she'd been expecting to be ambushed ever since Shadi's warning, not to mention she could physically feel someone's presence inside ever since she set foot on the island.

What she didn't expect was for only one person to be inside.

Two things stood in the middle of the room. Hovering a few feet above ground was Azelf's hollow body, its tiny arms and round head hanging forward lifelessly. The red gems on its forehead and tails had turned almost black, the light inside them evaporated long ago.

Next to it, arms crossed and eyes set on Metchi, was a man wearing Team Galactic's uniform. He was shorter than her and quite less intimidating, though she knew better than to take something like that for granted. His blue, crescent-shaped hair glistened with the light of the chargestones around him and his normally soft and friendly expression had grown rough and sour.

Metchi didn't take another step, unsure of what to do. She'd expected an entire platoon of Galatic grunts, or perhaps to be assaulted by powerful Pokemon the moment she took a step into the cave. But he seemed to be completely alone, and quite free of worry at that.

Laugh sprouted from the depths of her stomach and she was unable to contain it. The sound echoed off the walls, making it reverberate unnaturally. Saturn raised an eyebrow.

"Wow…" she whispered, shaking her head. "Not gonna lie, dude. Pretty shitty ambush you got going on here."


Cyrus' declaration cut through the crowd like a knife.

Those closest to him –with the exception of Inyssa and Barry– took sudden steps back in an instinctive attempt to get as far away from him as possible. Those further back and on the edges let out gasps and shifted uncomfortably, silently wondering what they should do. A bubbling, growing anxiety could be felt through the entirety of the festival as the seconds passed by. Shock and fear were slowly replaced by anger and indignation as they began whispering, their expressions growing darker and their voices raising in pitch.

"You..."

Silence swallowed the crowd once more as Cynthia spoke, the sheer fury in her voice like the crackle of lightning before a storm.

The Champion jumped from the stand and began walking forward. People cleared out of her path without her asking them to, for no sane person would've stood in her way. She stopped before reaching the first hill leading to the road upwards, and though she stood in the middle of the crowd it would've been impossible not to notice her. Those standing closer to her could feel a weightless, invisible warmth emanating from her, as if inside of her chest lived a roaring fire.

"How dare you come here, on this of all days." Cynthia did not raise her voice, not that she would've needed to for everyone in the crowd to hear her. "If you think I'll stand here and listen to a terrorist blabbering nonsense…" She flicked her wrist almost unconsciously, producing an Ultraball on her hand. "…then it is clear you have truly lost your mind, Cyrus."

The man did not move an inch, nor did he seem intimidated by the Champion's words. Looking down at her from his spot –one that he'd carefully chosen so as to give himself the proper imagery– he simply bowed his head slightly, as if greeting an old friend. The gesture was polite mockery, of course, but those who didn't know their history couldn't know that.

"The first thing you do when confronted by someone who only wishes to speak is to threaten them with violence?"

He saw as Cynthia's eyebrows formed a line over the bridge of her nose. She had to know that the smart thing was to capture him immediately, but she'd been called out in front of cameras that were transmitting the event to the entire world. Indeed, Cyrus had chosen very carefully the way in which he would face her.

"I have nothing to say to someone like you," said Cynthia. "You are not above me, Cyrus, despite what the spot you're standing in might make you believe. Do you think the people of Sinnoh are unaware of what Team Galactic has done?"

"I'm sure the Association has had the time of their lives spreading easy to swallow lies about us," he said. "Tell me, what are non-trainers to do if they find the state of the world as unfair as we do? Is the only legal way to dethrone you, and attempt to change the world, to defeat you in a Pokemon battle? How can that be considered fair?"

Cynthia's fingers tightened around the Pokeball, their tips turning pale. "I am more than open to any kind of dialogue with those who aren't terrorists. The title of Champion has existed for a long time, and it is the best way to ensure that only those strong in spirit…"

"There you go again," sighed Cyrus. "According to you, only those with a strong spirit are worthy to become Champion? Well, you seem to have forgotten a second, far more important requisite: they also need to be Pokemon trainers." He put emphasis on the last two words, the shadow of resentment behind his voice. "Since you come from a well off family I'm sure you've never thought about this, but do you have any idea just how expensive becoming a trainer is for the average person? The cost of a trainer card, a Pókedex, equipment, travel expenses… it is simply unavailable for most people."

"There are plenty of free programs and scholarships available for those in need who wish to become trainers," Cynthia rebutted. "I've made sure of that myself."

"And what of those who, for other reasons, cannot become one? Those who have to take care of a family or a business or who simply lack the physical capabilities? Do they not deserve the chance to change the world simply because their circumstances are less favorable than those of the spoiled, rich brats who flood our region like pests?" He stopped to breathe, letting his words set in. "Isn't it despicable? It seems only those who partake in violence and are blessed with money and a normal life are capable of truly changing the world. We, as a nation, glorify conflict and personal pride instead of open dialogue and thoughtfulness."

With one swift movement he turned towards the closest camera, which sat atop a tripod being manned by two people. He spread both arms as if wanting to embrace the audience he knew he had, going so far as to attempt one of the smiles Saturn had taught him how to imitate.

"I know I am not welcome in this town, nor in most of Sinnoh, but I still urge all those for whom my words rang true to listen. I want to address first and foremost those whose indignity at the Champion's speech is the same as mine. I want to address the parents, children and lovers of those who tragically lost their lives in the war, those who weren't fortunate enough to be Pokemon trainers, to be granted the protection such a title entailed." He lowered his arms slightly, raising his chin as he kept speaking. "True, the war was ended by trainers, but we seldom forget that it was started –and not majorly fought– by them as well. Throughout the entirety of it the ratio of civilian soldiers to trainers was ten to one, and yet it is only the latter whom we celebrate as heroes, those who had the least to lose and the most to gain."

Cyrus turned his gaze once more towards Cynthia, pointing a finger at her.

"I speak the truth; trainers are nothing but a menace!" He raised his voice for the first time, sending painful chills down the spines of all close to him. "This so called spirit of theirs is a sickness. Their competitive nature, their proclivity towards violence and their coveted pride do nothing but paint the entire of Sinnoh in a negative light. If unchecked, I assure you that such behavior will lead us all toward another war. And, just like last time, it will be all but the Pokemon trainers who will suffer because of it."

There was a certain flair to the way he ended his speech. A slow raise of his pitch, a slightly bent knee and the seemingly coincidental placement of his palm in front of his stomach as he bowed. It was a subtle enough gesture that most people wouldn't pick up on it, but it definitely added a good last impression to his words.

Cynthia, who'd been silent for the last part of his speech, took a deep breath and looked up at him. The previous anger was still there, but it had now been joined by what appeared to be melancholy.

"I've heard enough," she said, closing her eyes for a moment, lost in thought. "I don't care what your intentions are, Cyrus. You made a mistake coming here today." She took a decisive step forward, chin raised high. "Maybe your words would've had some weight before what happened in Veilstone, but now…"

Cyrus laughed. It was such a dissonant, completely out of place gesture coming from him that Cynthia was left unable to keep speaking, eyes wide in surprise. His was a fake, premeditated laugh but she knew no one else listening would be able to discern that, not with how much he seemed to have practiced it.

Still, Cynthia had heard his real laugh many years ago when she still considered it one of her favorite sounds, and knew that what she was hearing was not it.

"Ah… Veilstone." Cyrus' sharp smile stretched across his face. "I was wondering when you'd bring it up against me. You really outdid yourself in Veilstone; didn't you? I can't help but admire your cunning, despite how despicable your actions were."

Cynthia reeled back. "W-what?"

"Tell me, Champion, what possible reason could I have for sending my men to attack a city such as Veilstone in the middle of the day?" He shook his head, as if finding the idea utterly ridiculous. "What would we gain from it, except for the spite and hatred of the people of Sinnoh? And ignoring that, even if we did lead an attack, what are the chances that not a single citizen was fatally wounded? Almost as if those alleged Team Galactic members were ordered to hold back.

"Yes… you certainly thought it through, Champion. To think the Association would go as far as to impersonate us and attack their own people just to smear the name of Team Galactic…" He tilted his head to the side, gaze falling on Cynthia. "Then again, you are quite familiar with those kinds of tactics, aren't you?"

The realization of what Cyrus was implying fell on Cynthia like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes went wide, the grey in them cackling with disbelief. She took one unconscious step forward, the impact of it sending an invisible shockwave of heat all around her, barely a breeze of the storm of hatred burning in her chest. She looked as if she were about to heave from indignation alone.

"How… dare you…"

She took another step, looking ready to jump and physically assault Cyrus herself, when another voice broke through the high-strung silence.

"That's not true!"

All eyes turned towards Inyssa, even those of Cyrus and Cynthia, the latter of which looked as if she'd been startled out of her murderous rage.

She didn't know exactly why she'd decided to speak, and as she felt the gaze of everyone on her she suddenly froze. Maybe it was because of the sheer indignation of that man telling such a bold faced lie, or perhaps it was because for a moment, Inyssa saw in the Champion's eyes the same terrible anger as in those of Nyss', all those years ago when she stood in front of that painting. The same hallowed expression; as if both women were ready to burn down the whole world.

Inyssa tried to say more, but no words came out. Then she felt the pleasant weight of a familiar hand on her shoulder, followed by Barry's voice echoing through the valley.

"She's right, we were there!" he hollered. "We were the ones attacked by Team Galactic and we know they were the real ones! That man is lying!"

His voice was like a warm gust of wind; Inyssa felt as it lifted the heaviness that had set into her chest. All around her people shook their heads or looked startled as if they'd been woken up from some sort of trance. First they imitated Barry's expression. Then they began to yell and holler like him; throwing insults and incoherent yells at Cyrus, until the entirety of the festival was one, single voice full of indignity and rage.

"I see; you two must be the Champion's pets."

The crowd's yelling almost came to a halt once again, Cyrus' voice transmitted through the speakers feeling like cold water running down their backs.

"Inyssa Dawn and Barry Paladino, the star trainers who are sweeping through the region," he said, emulating sarcasm with his tone. "How convenient that they are always in the same place where Team Galactic appears, ready to take them down. Almost as if they were meant to. Almost as if their rise to notoriety has been meticulously planned."

Niss' let out a scoff, feeling her blood running hot. "Come and say that to my face you zombie-looking piece of sh–!"

"I see the rumors about your rotten attitude have not been exaggerated," said Cyrus. "Something I'm sure every person you've met in your journey has had to deal with by now. Is this really the kind of person we want representing us as a nation? Is this what counts as Champion material nowadays?"

"Cyrus!" Cynthia's howl broke through the air, startling everyone in the crowd. "I have allowed you to badmouth me and my peers, but if you think I'll let you talk like that to children…!"

"I simply say what those with common sense are thinking. What option do I have when the government is bent on painting me and my associates in such a terrible light?" He shook his head. "Tell me, Champion, how many Galactic grunts have you managed to apprehend so far? There was no record of what happened in Floaroma nor Eterna, except for the fact that many of my people were found dead. And yet the only time you do manage to catch some of them; they refuse to divulge important information to this so called investigation?"

There was a moment of silence, carefully constructed by Cyrus so everyone could process what he'd said. Cynthia seemed as if she were about to reply, but it was clear he'd caught her off guard.

"Are you telling me that you haven't made that information available to the public, my dear Champion? About how not a single one of the supposed Galactic grunts that were captured in the Veilstone attack have revealed anything about my group? How can that be, when the Association counts with every method of interrogation known to mankind?" He turned to the cameras as he asked the question. "It's not hard to see the truth behind your hollow lies."

It happened then. He saw the change in Cynthia's expression; the same he was accustomed to whenever he used to drive her into a corner in their arguments. He saw her fingers clench into fists, her nose flaring and the way her shoulders stood stiff as iron.

She'd reached the limit of her patience, but it was already too late. His words had already been heard by the rest of the world. Even if he were to fail his mission, the damage to the Champion's pride would remain.

"I will not hear another word," Cynthia said, taking in a deep breath. "I'll defeat you here and now, Cyrus. Then we'll see how truthful your claims are."

She raised her hand, pointing the Ultraballl towards him. A moment after the crowd erupted once more in cheers and screams, half insults thrown at Cyrus and half garbled yells of encouragement towards their Champion.

He sighed, raising his hand as well. However there didn't seem to be any kind of Pokeball in it.

"Very well. If violence is how you wish to resolve this then I have no choice but to comply," he said. "But I want everyone watching to remember… I was not the one to pull the trigger first."

Pressing thumb against index, Cyrus snapped his fingers once. There was an instant of nothing and then an electric cackle was heard all around the festival. Those closest to the cameras and speakers heard as something short-circuited inside them, followed by sparks as the devices turned off, dead.

"You…" Cynthia narrowed her eyes. "That's enough! Lorencia, come o–!"

She pressed the button of the Ultraball, lips curled into an expectant smile. A second went by. Nothing happened.

For the first time since they'd met her, Inyssa saw the barest hints of panic flash across the Champion's eyes. Hurriedly he pressed the button again, but the result was much the same. With her other hand she reached into her belt and took out another one, but as she pressed the button it failed to open as well.

"Wh–" She looked down at the Ultraballs in her hands, disbelief clear in her face. "Why aren't they opening!? What did you do!?"

Cyrus wished he could genuinely enjoy the look on her face.

"Did you really expect…" he said, "…that I'd give you the chance to fight back?"

Cynthia was about to reply, but then a whirring sound of metal rang through the valley. All gazes where pulled up toward the sky, where they noticed a strange, dark shape floating many feet above. It hovered still for a moment, and then began to fall at an alarming speed.

It crashed like a bullet on the ground in front of Cyrus, creating a shockwave of rubble and dust, forcing those close to the place of impact to cover their eyes and jump back in surprise. Two shining, red eyes broke through the cloud around it and a moment after a persistent, metallic sound could be heard like the clicking of a Scyther.

Inyssa was the first to see it as the dust cleared. It was as tall as a person, though that's where the similarities ended. The segmented, oval shape of its purple body reminded her of some bug Pokemon, though she'd never seen one like this, covered from tip to toe in some kind of metallic armor. Its head was shaped like a saucer, with what seemed to be its teeth forming a wicked line across its face. Its thin arms ended in sharp, grim looking claws and from its back grew some kind of cannon-like device, the top of which glowed with a red, pulsing light.

She felt fear run through her veins, freezing her on the spot. The thing in front of her couldn't be a Pokemon, as much as it looked like one. Every inch of its body, from its sharp claws to its armor, told her that the creature's only purpose was to kill and destroy.

There was absolutely no life behind its gleaming, hollow eyes. A quick look at Cynthia told her she'd come to the same conclusion, though the Champion seemed better at hiding how much that fact terrified her.

"For too long you've depended on your Pokemon for strength," Cyrus declared, voice emotionless. "Now that I've stripped you of that power, I will show you how feeble that so called spirit of yours is."

The creature's eyes flashed maliciously as it raised his claws, waiting for an order. Cyrus placed a hand on top of its head, his expression nothing like a smile.

"Today is the day you fall, Champion."


Silver Notes: As you can probably see from the cliffhanger above, we're now on the clímax of Season 2. As such, I'll be changing my schedule from a chapter every two weeks to a chapter a week until I'm done with this season. That should be... three more chapters, after this one. I hope you'll enjoy them, and thanks so much for sticking with me!