A/N: Has it been a long time? Yes, it sure as hell has. For all two that are actually anticipating this story, I apologize. School, and my other stories have been taking away from my time with this one. I'm sorry, and I'll try to not let over two months go by before I update this story again. Anywho, here's chapter three of the first installment of the Blade of Destiny trilogy. You know the drill: If you like it, tell me. If you don't, tell me what I can do to make it better. Enjoy!

Blade of Destiny

Chapter 3: Never Trust A Hot Chick

"What do you mean you're cutting my funding?" The man exclaimed as he jumped up from his chair, glasses nearly falling off of his face. The large video screen lit his lightly wrinkled face in the darkened room.

"We cannot afford to fund this radical idea of yours, Doctor. You have been engaged in this research for over three years, and we have yet to see any results. Dr. Riley has been working on his genetic research for only eight months, and he's already made major breakthroughs," the darkened figure on the screen replied. It was accompanied by at least another six people, all covered in shadows.

"All I need is a little more time. My team has been desperately trying to translate the tablets that we recovered from the Alph ruins; not only that, but I will have the sword and shield within the week."

"Dr. Leto, we greatly appreciate your work that allowed us to begin Project Mewtwo so far back, and it was because of your previous success that we had even given such an outlandish theory any type of support," a feminine voice boomed through the screen. "However, how we can be expected to believe some kind of...fairy tale? I would expect that an educated man like you would not believe in such nonsense."

"Members of the Board please understand; with all of the strange events that have happened in the past few years, how can you not begin to believe? The Lugia incident in the Orange Islands, that crystal barrier that enclosed that mansion in the Johto region, and numerous other events has been appearing in the past ten years alone. There are rumors of Legendary Pokemon at almost every event; pokemon which have only been heard about in legends and folklore.

This is no coincidence; something is causing these pokemon to appear and with my research, I can figure out what that is. Dr. Riley is merely working with early specimens, and he has only had a handful of successful experiments so far. What I am offering to you is the world on a platter; the power to control the Legendaries and perhaps even the very elements themselves. All I need is your support."

The Board was quiet for a moment before the lead figure began to speak. "We will discuss this and put it to a vote. Give us a moment to confer." Dr. Leto nodded and sat down again, resting his head in his hands. The intercom placed on the conference table beeped loudly, producing an annoyed groan.

"What is it?" he snapped as he clicked the button and leaned back in his seat.

"Excuse me, Doctor, but it seems you have a visitor."

"No visitors today. I'm busy."

"Uh sir, she says she's been sent here directly from the Board." Leto sat up in his chair in surprise. Why would they send someone here? She must be here to report to them on Riley's progress, he thought to himself as he clicked the button.

"Fine. Send her in," he ordered. Leaning back into his chair, he sighed and rubbed his temples. This job was getting too stressful; but he had to unlock this mystery of "The Guardians". He would go on with his research, whether the Board approved of him or not. With a loud hum, the large screen in front of him reactivated, flooding the room with light.

"We have discussed the issue and have reached a decision. We will grant you two extra months for your research. However, if you do not produce any type of results at the end of this extension, all of your funds and support will be cut; do you understand?" Dr. Leto nodded, turning around at the sound of the door behind him being opened.

"Ah, Agent Summers." Roxanne smirked as she took a seat in one the empty chairs at the conference table. Her green eyes glinted mischievously; sharp facial features gave a determined, yet playful look; a smile that would stab you in the back without a second thought. It was hard to not notice her beauty, though it was a look that screamed sexuality. He had heard about her; she was one of the three highest ranking women in Team Ultima and they commanded an amazing amount of pull throughout the organization.

All three of them knew that they were beautiful vixens, and they wielded that weapon almost as effectively as a gun, twisting almost any man they came across with ease. "Agent Summers will be stationed here at the Goldenrod facility for the time being. She is also the one we put in charge of your search of this sword and shield you are looking for," the screen explained as she leaned back in the chair and sighed.

"Yeah, and that shield should be here any minute now. I just received word that we now have this shield in our possession. We should have the sword in about a day or two. I'll be contacting the man who took it in a couple of days and get it from him," she said nonchalantly.

The Doctor nodded and smiled. "Good, that means we can begin experimenting right away. How long will you be gracing us with your presence, Agent Summers?"

"As long as it's required. Now, just what kind of experiments is this Dr. Riley working on exactly?"

May slowly stirred in her bed, the morning sunbeams gently brightening her face as she rose and grabbed her head. A fierce headache had taken hold of her; it seemed to throb and pulse at every thump of her own heartbeat. She groaned, and slowly slid out of bed, yanking open her nightstand and gulping down a couple of aspirin. "How in the hell did I get such a hangover? I didn't even have anything to drink last night," she wondered aloud, rummaging through her dresser, pulling out a pair of shorts and an old Pokemon League t-shirt.

She did her best to ignore the pain in her head and somehow managed to drag herself out of the bedroom and into the living room, where her younger brother was sitting there, tapping at away at his laptop.

"Finally up, huh? It's about time; it's almost three o'clock," he said, never looking away from his computer screen. "Brock left some food out for you on the table. It's probably ice cold by now. How you feeling?" he remarked as he jerked his head to the nearby dining table.

May groaned and dumped herself into a chair. "Like I had a hell of a time last night. God, my head is killing me. I can barely talk without it starting to throb like crazy." Picking up a fork on the table, she dug it into the eggs that Brock had apparently prepared earlier. Max was right; it was ice cold as it slid down her throat. She really didn't mind though; she felt as if she hadn't eaten in weeks and quickly ate the meal.

"Strange. Both Ash and Brock were complaining about their heads hurting too. What was the last thing you remember?" May shrugged and dropped the fork onto the plate with a loud clang.

"Light. And lots of it. And...some strange sound. Like someone was talking, but I couldn't make it out. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in bed with a crazy hangover." Max raised an eyebrow at her recollection.

"Talking? What kind of talking?"

"I don't know...it was very soft, almost like a whisper. If you weren't really listening, it would be easy to miss. I couldn't tell what they were saying though." Max sighed and ran his hand across the sword, which lay across the table he was sitting at, unsheathed and gleaming in the morning light.

"I remember the light too, but I didn't pass out. Neither did Ash; it just you and Brock. Although, Ash did say he saw a light too when he first reached out to grab the sword in the museum. His vision got real blurry and his head started hurting, but he didn't pass out." Max's eyes fell to the weapon and narrowed. "There's something about this sword, but I can't quite put my finger on it. I've been searching all night for some kind of info on this thing."

May moved across the room and plopped onto the couch. "What did you find?" Max shook his head.

"That's the thing. All night searching and I didn't find a damn thing. I checked everywhere: Pewter Museum of Natural History, Pokemon League records, archaeological accounts and digs; hell, I even tried Google. Nothing. It's like this thing doesn't even exist or something."

May shrugged and leaned back onto the couch. "Well, it's not gonna be our problem for too long. That thing's getting sold and we can move on. Don't worry about it." Her brother shook his head sighed. "Hey, where are Ash and Brock anyway?"

"They're off visiting his mother. Said they'd be back in a couple of hours."

The afternoon sun shone brightly over the building as a young LSF agent climbed the ladder to its rooftop. The wind whipped his short light brown hair fiercely, slightly stinging his face. "When did you find the body?"

The lean, tall Fuchsia police officer climbed over the roof and held out a hand to him, hauling his body over the top of the building. The cop's brow furrowed as he thought of the answer to his question. "About noon. One of the window washers was heading out for his daily duties and found the poor bastard here. Don't see the reason to call in the Special Forces though; seems to be just a normal homicide to me."

He stopped to catch his breath for a moment and raised a hand to his face, trying to shield his eyes from the punishing rays of the sun. "Where's the officer in charge here?" The cop pointed to an older man with graying hair standing near the yellow police tape that obviously surrounded the body.

"Detective Scott. And you are...?" The cop held out his hand in a friendly gesture.

"Harrison; Agent Harrison Fields," he replied as he shook the policeman's hand. He nodded and led the way to Detective Scott, trying to push his way through the various officers, photographers and forensic investigators.

"Uh, Detective Scott? We got an agent from the LSF here to talk to you." The detective turned around and chuckled lightly. His face was surprisingly youthful, which in a deep contrast to his heavily graying hair.

"What the hell is LSF doing here?" Harrison cleared his throat and held his hand out. Scott simply looked at him for a moment, until Harrison pulled his arm. "Since when did Special Forces start hiring kids? This isn't CSI, boy; you know what you're doing?" he asked suspiciously.

Harrison nodded and glanced over at the body behind the elderly police officer. It was not a pretty sight: blood was all over the rooftop and unfortunately, where his right eye was supposed to have been, there was now a gaping bloody hole. Scott noticed Harrison's shocked expression and chuckled.

"Three gunshot wounds. One to the left calf, one to the right wrist, and obviously, one fired into his right eye. We found a gun near the body; it belonged to the victim. Of course, as you saw on the way up here, there was more than that. At least four bodies in that exploded car on the street and the dead Houndoom with a bullet through its brain. Something big went down here last night and you just confirmed that by you being here."

Harrison knelt down and closely examined the body and cursed quietly. "We were tracking him for some time. He's Michael Richards; responsible for a rash of high profile thefts in the past few years. He had just taken a shield a few weeks ago, and I was heading down here to check out a lead."

"I guess that's gone bust. You think somebody killed him over this shield?" Harrison shrugged.

"Doubt it. The shield was valuable, but something worth killing over. Maybe he just upset some rivals and they took their opportunity to take him out of the picture. Either way, I'd say he got messed up pretty bad," he commented. He turned to leave before stopping and turning back around.

"Here. If you happen to come across some interesting info, give me a ring," Harrison said as he handed Detective Scott a business card. The detective nodded and took it, shoving it into his pocket.

"I'll be sure to do that."

Brock leaned against his car, lighting a cigarette that was dangling in his mouth and sighed. He hated cemeteries; just the sight of them was enough to bring down a good mood. They seemed so grim and bleak, just the air around it seemed to get darker, even on a bright sunny day. He wondered to himself why the hell he even stepped foot in this place, but the answer stood about twenty or thirty feet away from him, placing flowers on top of a headstone.

He took a long drawl from his cigarette and exhaled, the light breeze carrying away the smoke into the air. He knew how he felt. He too, had lost a mother, although it was a considerably younger age than he was. Regardless, it was still the loss of a mother. He never went to the gravestone with him; Brock felt like this was a time for him to be alone with his thoughts. Ash had taken his mother's death awfully hard, and though he had gotten better, Brock could tell the scars were still there.

The look in his eyes when Ash showed up at his front door that day, they told the whole story to him before Ash could even manage to choke out a word. He could see it; the confusion, the sorrow that poured from his eyes along with the tears. Now, as he began to walk back into the car, Brock could still see that scared and confused child inside of him.

"What the hell are you staring at?" Ash said as soon as he was within earshot of his best friend. Brock took one last puff of his cigarette and tossed the butt away.

"Nothing much, apparently," he replied with a grin as he climbed into the car and started the ignition. Ash rolled his eyes and adjusted the tie on his black suit, eliciting a groan from Brock.

"Hey, James Bond. This isn't GQ; get your scrawny ass in the car." Ash laughed and sat down in the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.

"You're just mad cause I look better than you, that's all," Ash retorted. Brock scoffed loudly and pulled the car out of the cemetery and onto the highway. The drive was silent as their chuckles died down and Ash stared out the window.

Brock opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the shrill ringing of a cellular phone. The sound of Ash rummaging through his pockets and the click of the phone flipping open broke the silence.

"Hello?...Yeah, this is Ash...oh hello...yes it was hell getting it, but it's in our possession; when are you planning to buy?" Ash said into the small device. "Today? Well, that's sooner than we expected, but it's certainly agreeable. All right, we'll meet you there in half an hour." The phone closed with a snap and Ash chuckled as he placed the phone back into his pocket.

Brock glanced at him for a moment then back at the road. "Well?" Ash grinned and leaned back into the seat.

"Swing by Max's. We've got a sword to sell."

Quietly, a small blue sports car pulled into the empty and desolate construction site and parked in the middle of a large clearing. Two figures stepped out, one of them carrying a long object in a black sheath. "How do I look?" Ash pulled his shades down and smiled.

"Great. Now let's go get our cash." Ash's nose twitched as he tried to fight off a sneeze; an effect of the sawdust that lingered in the air like a veil. Aimlessly, they wandered through the site for a good ten minutes before Ash groaned.

"Where the hell is she?" he said exasperatedly. As if on cue, they both heard a shuffling noise above them, causing them to whirl around with their hands on their weapons.

"I'm right here. There's no need to pull out your guns," said Roxanne as she stepped out from the rafters above. Brock's eyes widened as a whistle escaped his lips.

"Damn," was all he could after laying eyes on her figure. Ash nodded; he had to admit, she was extremely attractive. Brock cleared his throat and desperately tried to regain his composure. "We have the sword. Where's the money?"

A sly smirk crept across her ruby lips as she snapped her fingers, a young man quickly coming out with a large briefcase. Both Ash and Brock grinned from ear to ear as the briefcase was snapped open and row after row of green bills were shown. "Of course, that's just your down payment." She snapped her fingers again, and two more men carrying briefcases appeared, displaying even more money to them. "50 million. Does that about cover it?"

They both nodded vigorously, drawing a smile from her face. Brushing a hair behind her ear, she grinned and looked at Ash. "My, my, such a handsome thief. I hope you don't steal my heart while you're at it," she said suggestively.

Ash shook his head and raised his hands. "Sorry lady, I'm taken. But my good friend Brock here is completely single." Roxanne pouted and leaned forward onto the metal bar in front of her.

"Aww, that's too bad. Your girlfriend doesn't have to know about it, you know...," she said again.

"Sorry, but no." Roxanne sighed and glanced at Brock before chuckling.

"Sorry, but I like the feisty ones." Brock sighed and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. I'm pretty used to rejection now. Can we have our money now?" he questioned impatiently. She smiled brightly and promptly shook her head.

"No, I don't think so." Both of them glanced at each other for a moment before returning to Roxanne.

"Excuse me?" Suddenly, out of nowhere, a long pink object shot out of nowhere and latched itself to the sword in Ash's hands. It yanked fiercely, almost ripping the weapon from Ash's hands.

Brock instantly yanked his gun from the holster inside of his suit jacket and aimed it at Roxanne. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded as Ash struggled with the object that was attached to the sword. Finally, grabbed it and ripped it off only to have it stick to his hand.

A sticky substance like glue was covering it, causing it to adhere to his palm. He yanked his hand back and a loud screech echoed through the site as the air in front of him began to materialize into a small green figure, the pink object in his hand originating from its mouth. "A Kecleon!" Ash exclaimed. The pokemon was notorious for its camouflage abilities and it had blended so well into the air that not even the yellow band that usually was visible when camouflaged had even disappeared.

Brock kept his gun leveled at Roxanne and growled. "What the hell is your problem, lady?" Soon, men everywhere began appearing from the rafters aiming their machine guns at them. Brock silently swore; they were surrounded completely.

"My problem is the fact that you're still alive. I must say, you guys are very skilled if you could escape a building filled with League Special Forces; however, you put a serious monkey wrench into my plans by surviving. Now if you don't mind, we'll be taking the sword now."

Brock quickly tossed a glance at Ash who nodded at him slightly. Brock blinked; he knew Ash had something in mind. He would just have to catch on quickly. Swiftly, Ash grabbed the tongue of the Kecleon and whipped the pokemon into the rafters and yanked his hand backwards, ripping the creature's tongue from his palm.

The pokemon squealed loudly as it flew through the air and collided with a man standing next to Roxanne. "Now!" Ash yelled as he pulled out his own gun and the both of them began firing at the woman and her companions above them. Instantly, the tranquil area erupted into a war zone, with bullets flying everywhere as the two of them hid behind a pillar.

"Do you have any of your pokemon with you, Brock!" Ash yelled over the gunfire. Brock shook his head. "I forgot mine at Max's!" he screamed again as he popped out and fired a few more shots from his handgun.

"We've gotta get to the car and get the hell outta here! We're dead for sure if we stay here for too much longer!" Suddenly, a loud screeching of tires against pavement echoed from the outside of the site. They both spotted a bright red sports car tearing out of the area and into the streets.

"Fifty bucks says that's the bitch that set us up!" Brock yelled. "Let's make a run for it!" Ash nodded peeked his head out, only to have another volley of gunfire erupt in his direction.

"I got an idea."

Brandon loved his job. Team Ultima had to be the best to ever happen to him; free food and lodging, nice cars, and he was even paid to blow shit up. It was the life; go on a mission, come back, find a nice piece of ass and have some fun. In fact, he was in the middle of screwing around when he got called out to this mission today. He reloaded his gun and aimed at the pillar and smiled as he saw a black figure dart out from behind.

Instantly, he emptied his clip into it and smiled; he was also the top marksman at his outpost. The figure collapsed to the ground, sending a cloud of sawdust into the air. "Wait a second..." he said as the air around the figure began to settle; lying on the floor was a black suit jacket. By the time he realized it was a decoy, one of them stepped out and held his gun out in front of him. "Shit." He had no time to reload as a flash emerged from the firearm and his chest exploded in pain.

He cursed loudly and collapsed to the floor holding his chest, letting his gun fall to the floor with a clatter. Glancing down, he saw blood pouring out of the bullet wound in his chest and glanced at one of his comrades. The man merely gave him a blank look and kept firing at the two men. As his vision began to blur and darken, he could only say one thing:

"Something told me to bring that vest."

"Come on, we gotta get outta here!" Brock yelled as he fired at the men above them and turned to the car. Ash nodded and sprinted to the vehicle, yelling as the lead ricocheted off the concrete near his feet with a loud ping. Blindly, he fired behind him and didn't stop until he heard the click of an empty chamber.

"Get in!" He slid over the hood of the car and quickly hopped in. His partner fiercely yanked open the door and leapt in also, slamming his keys into the ignition. With a roar, the engine came to life and Brock slammed on the gas. Bullets bounced off of the body of the vehicle, causing them to duck instinctively as Brock tore out of the site.

The car slid out of the site and screamed down the street as Ash checked the sword in his hand for any damage. "Did you see where she went?" Brock nodded and threw the steering wheel, swerving the car to the left onto a new street. "She couldn't have gotten too far; she only left two or three minutes before us."

Brock nodded and scanned the traffic for the bright red sports car that he saw tear out of the parking lot. His narrowed as he saw a flash of red go through the intersection to the right. "That's her!" Instantly, he threw his foot onto the pedal and swerved around the traffic in front of them into the busy intersection. Horns blared and tires screeched as the drifted through the intersection, narrowly missing an accident with the oncoming traffic.

"Jesus Christ, Brock! We almost got killed back there!" Brock ignored him and stepped on the gas even harder, bringing the vehicle to over 100 miles an hour. The world outside began to blur as their speed picked up. Ash took a deep breath and clipped no his seat belt; Brock was a good driver, but even he didn't know if his friend could take these kind of speeds.

The car pulled even with the red car and Brock glanced at the driver; finding the traitorous woman looking at them with a surprised expression on their face. "Ash, you better hang on." Ash looked at him with a confused look on his face.

"What exactly are you going to-," he was interrupted as the car jerked sharply to the left, ramming the red car. Brock was trying to run her off of the road; Ash opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short as their car shook fiercely as she returned the favor, the screech of metal against metal almost drowning out the roaring engine. She swerved to the left onto a new street and zoomed up the feeder into Cerulean Expressway.

Brock growled and followed suit, pulling into the crowded highway. Both cars engaged in a dangerous game of cat and mouse as the two vehicles weaved through traffic at breakneck speeds, narrowly avoiding the cars who desperately tried to move out of the way of the battling vehicles. "Ash, can you get a bead on her?" he said calmly as they swerved past a large SUV.

"No way. There's too many cars; I could hit one of them easily." Brock cursed and continued his chase after her. The car pulled behind her and Brock slammed the car into her again, hoping to make her fishtail and spin out on the highway. "What the hell is she doing?" Ash wondered as he saw her peek her head out of the vehicle, long black flapping wildly in the fierce wind.

Her hand appeared outside of the window carrying a small pistol. It held as steady as possible in the rushing wind and jerked backwards from the recoil. Swiftly, the hand disappeared back into the car, which quickly swerved to the right and sped off. "Brock she's get-," Ash stopped as her plan became all too clear.

A large eighteen wheeler was hauling loads of chains and massive steel spindles on its bed, apparently for the construction of the new freeway that was not too far from their location. A series of metal chains held them down in place, and she had just shot off one of them. The contents of the bed rattled turbulently as the other chains struggled to hold down the immense weight. "Brock, get out of th-," he screamed as the chains snapped.

Slowly at first, the spindles began to roll backwards and clatter to the concrete highway, violently rumbling the expressway. Both of them screamed as Brock desperately, tried to avoid the gigantic metal bars by swerving left and right. One headed straight for them, which Brock frantically dodged. The object rushed past Ash's window, rattling it with the force of wind that it created.

It careened down the highway and slammed into a car, shattering it like tissue paper. Glass and metal shrapnel launched into the air along with the vehicle, and smashed back into the pavement, sliding across the freeway. Car horns blared and the sound of tires screeching to a halt filled the freeway as others desperately tried to avoid both the car and the objects that were being hurled at them.

A stray chain smashed against the windshield, cracking it instantly. "Brock, get us off of this goddamn highway! We stay here any longer and we're gonna get killed!" Ash frantically screamed at his best friend.

"I can't see! The damn chain is making it impossible for me to even the fucking street!" he yelled back as he blindly swerved to the left. His heart pounded as the whistled loudly to his left; another chain had barely missed them. "I can't dodge these things forever!" he yelled.

One lone chain rattled on the now empty bed, refusing to be carried away by the winds. It held on dearly, clattering against the wooden bed; but nothing can resist nature for long. With one last gust of wind, it disconnected and sailed into the air before crashing to the concrete and sliding across the pavement. It slid under a car and wrapped around the crankshaft under a vehicle, causing it to jam and hurl the car into the air.

The last thing Ash and Brock saw was the concrete rushing up to meet them as the car collided with the highway.

"Move out of the way! LSF, move!" she yelled as she shoved her way through the pandemonium on the freeway. A major accident had occurred on the Cerulean Expressway, and the call went out for all available law enforcement to the area. Misty groaned and shoved another person out of the way; she had just come home to visit her sisters, and this had to happen.

Can't I ever catch a break?, she thought to herself. It was a mess; sixteen car wrecks, and the traffic was backed up for at least the four miles. The ground beneath her crackled as she stepped over shattered glass that littered the pavement. Finally, she spotted one of the Cerulean PD and tapped his shoulder.

He spun around and rolled his eyes. "Look lady, you're gonna have to get back, ok? This is a very dangerous situation." Misty promptly flashed her LSF badge, bringing a look of surprise on the policeman's. "Special Forces? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was here visiting family when the call went out, not that it's any of your damn business. What's the situation?" The cop sighed and waved his hands around him.

"Are you blind? We've had a massive accident. Apparently, one of the chains on an eighteen wheeler snapped and let loose all of these huge spindles and chains you see around here." He opened his mouth to explain more, but was cut off by a loud commotion behind them.

"Hey, we got somebody alive over here!" a voice called out near an overturned vehicle. Misty and the cop rushed over the vehicle and helped the group of men that were dragging two men's bodies out of the wreck. They were both covered with scratches and bruises, and seemed to be unconscious, but they were alive.

"Thank god there are some survivors," the cop said as Misty walked up to examine the faces of the men. Misty glanced at the face of the lighter man with black hair and her heart skipped a beat. The crazy black hair, the slim but athletic frame, even the "z" shaped birthmarks on his cheeks. She looked at his companion and gasped as the realization hit her.

Tanned face, slanted eyes and huge muscles; she was speechless. "A...Ash?" she said timidly, as if the man would wake up instantly and confirm her suspicions. Even though it had been eight years, she could still recognize them.

"What in the hell?" a man said as he pulled out a long black object out of the car and held it up. He grabbed the handle and pulled, revealing a sparkling crystal blade that shimmered in the sunlight. One of the cops whistled loudly.

"Think he got that from Ebay?"