The first thing Vallion assumed was that something was wrong.
His eyes immediately had trouble adjusting to the light of day. He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling and tried to look around, unsure of why the windows seemed much too bright. Was something outside shining directly in? Did someone drop a luminous orb nearby? All he could see was the side of the next building over, and his mind was still much too muddled to make anything of it.
Panne shifted against him, and his confusion quickly fell to the wayside. Sighing, he nestled his head into her, feeling the weight of his drowsiness fall back into him. It was her turn to stir, wrestling an arm free from his coils to rub at her eyes and yawning.
"Hrng...What the hell..?" she muttered. "What's it so fuckin' bright in here for?"
"That's what I was wondering."
Apparently neither of them were too concerned about it, since even after waking up they didn't leave the other's embrace for another half-conscious span of minutes. Eventually Panne finally got sick of laying around and wiggled her way out of his grasp to do some stretches, lifting her staff to pull her out of the pile of Serperior she was sleeping in. He used the opportunity to slither his way to the window and open it up.
It was the sun.
The clouds had parted in places, letting the slightest cracks of blue through, which fortunately included the section of the sky where the morning sun shined through. Vallion almost thought he was still dreaming. It almost didn't look natural. Did he really just mistake the sun for a luminous orb?
At some point Panne floated up behind him, her intrigued hum transforming into a gasp. "Oh! Wait, are you serious?! I didn't even know this place got any sun! That looks so weird!"
"...Hm." Vallion squinted as he stuck his head out the window, his misty breath catching the light in a prismatic way. "It does seem a little strange, doesn't it?"
The room they'd gotten in the dead of night wasn't incredible, but it was much better than the place Vallion was staying at back in West District. For one, there seemed to be some insulation. The walls had a reasonable thickness to them, and had a nice beige coat of paint to boot. The beds were actual beds, complete with sheets and blankets that weren't roughspun rejects. He hadn't really cared about the quality of the place when he first arrived. There were more important matters to attend to at the time.
The important matter in question finally finished stretching out her lame leg and hopped up onto her staff. "It's probably not even close to spring in this hemisphere, but the first sunny day of spring is supposed to be good luck, right? Who knows? Maybe it's gonna be a decent day after all. Well anyways, I'm probably gonna head down to the lobby and see if I can't bring something decent back."
"Tea, maybe?" The Serperior gave her a pleading stare.
She threw her arms up, but there was a smile on his face. "Ugh, fine. As long as they'll let me get tea and coffee and not just one or the other."
A silence ensued as she left out the door with a thud. A gentle wind blew in from the open window, the cold air coming in brief waves as it sapped the warmth from the room. Now he could clearly see the shadow of the rooftop that the sun was drawing on the side of the building. The white-gold shade of light felt almost alien to see reflected in the snow, and it left him strangely uneasy.
There was a stomping in the hallway. By the rhythm, a biped and a quadruped, and in a hurry to get somewhere by the sound of it. The two masculine voices exchanged a few words with a severe tone. All Vallion could hear from his position in the room was the phrase 'search the rooms', and more garbled nonsense as the pokemon passed.
Less than a minute later, Panne slipped back into the room and locked the door behind her, shooting Vallion a frantic glance. "You know, I fucking forgot there was gonna be a lockdown. There's knights here. They're looking for someone, and it's probably you."
"Yeah, I wouldn't doubt it," he muttered, his ear to the wall. "Maybe I wasn't discreet enough last night. Word must've spread that I was around these parts."
"You think?! I'm not about to put up with explaining myself when they come barreling through! I don't think Alex's little permission slip would be enough to convince these guys to let you run off."
The Serperior shook his head, then came close to her and swept her up in an impromptu embrace. "I don't think so, either. Guess this is the part where I make my escape, huh?"
Panne grumbled. "You sure you don't want to come back to the palace with me? I could get tweedle-dee or tweedle-dum to come down and make sure they don't immediately string you up from the rafters. We can just avoid this problem altogether."
"Afraid not," Vallion said. "I've got some unfinished business waiting for me in West District. It'd be best if the guards only saw me after I've finally figured out where Chenza's going to be hiding."
She blew a raspberry and brought the side of her head into his chest. "Whatever. Just promise me you'll be careful, alright? I already told Alexander multiple times that I'd blow a hole in his side of the palace myself if anything happened to you."
"I know. I promise." Vallion nudged the tip of his nose beneath hers and raised her face. This kiss was the most fleeting one yet, even despite how much it meant. Just like that, it was over, and Vallion and started towards the window.
"Stay safe, you stupid snake! I love you!"
Angling himself lower-body first over the window's ledge, he gave her one last smile. "I'll try. I love you, too."
The Serperior lowered himself from the second floor to the ground, wincing as he came into contact with the snow. He was off in mere moments, ducking deeper into the alley to wind up on the other side of the block. After peering around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, he sidled along the side of the road, the sunlight at his back making sure his shadow was always two steps ahead of him.
It was still a little stunning to see Paradise painted in natural light that wasn't filtered through a mile of cloud and snow. Most of the things he thought looked broken or dreary now stood out against the new perspective. All the run-down buildings and tired intersections almost looked normal. He could almost look past the gloom to see the city for what it was rather than what it was falling into. Strange how that kind of thing works.
No time to admire the sights. There were guards everywhere, knocking on doors and storming the streets. Vallion had to dip out of sight multiple times just on his journey to the border between districts, and when he finally did come to the edge of West District, it was essentially impassable. There was a whole checkpoint of the city's forces on the main artery of the road, and it seemed that no pokemon came through without a thorough look-over. Every other way into that part of the city was blocked.
Luckily, Vallion was no stranger to this scenario. Down the way, there was a flower shop that's always closed for the winter. Beside it was a cellar door not unlike the ones scattered across Shardurr's territory, marked with the same jagged 'S'. The only thing past the door was a tunnel two blocks long that led to the other side of the boundary. It existed solely for this exact purpose, thankfully.
After some fumbling down in the darkness of a dusty wooden corridor, Vallion saw the sun peek through the cracks of the door on the opposite side. He listened to make sure there was no one waiting for him before coming through into the blinding glare. What he did hear was a great deal of shouting in the distance. An uproar at the checkpoint.
Considering the distraction as good fortune, Vallion took off deeper into the district, moving towards the center of the street on his home turf. There didn't seem to be any guards this far in yet. They had set themselves up at the perimeter of the district, but had yet to actually start scouring the place. Were there even any patrols at all right now? Who was protecting the innocent folk then?
It was clear that Paradise couldn't even hope to make a move on this part of the town yet, even if it wanted to. There were protests taking to the streets on every corner. The drunk and the rowdy were joined by the mischievous few looking to profit from the chaos. Vallion ended up stopping a rather pathetic robbery-in-progress by tripping the offending Drapion with his vines and retrieving the purse they'd stolen. What kind of self-respecting criminal stirs trouble in their own backyard?
The further the Serperior got from the commotion, the more deathly quiet it got. Soon he was the only one that dared walk out in the open. Even as the sun brought out colors previously hidden beneath brown and grey and red, the feeling of foreboding only got worse. Everyone not holed up in their homes had surged to the borders between districts. It was like blood rushing to an open wound.
Soon enough, he came to the inn he'd been staying at for most of his time since discovering Chenza's identity. This might be one of the last moments he'd get to himself for a while. He never did get that tea, did he? Maybe just a quick stop before he started looking.
It already felt like a mistake the second he slithered in through the door. There wasn't a single face that he had seen in here before sitting at the tables. There must have been seven or eight pokemon in at the time, the lot of them hunched over and brooding. Big pokemon, too. A Pangoro and an Infernape shot him a glare before the door had even shut behind him.
No Torkoal in sight, either. Keeping an eye on his flanks, Vallion slowly made his way over to the center of the room and took his rightful place by the fire. It didn't surprise him that there'd be a flood of shady types out today. Just that so many would be gathered here when all of the commotion was much farther out into the city.
...Perhaps he should just warm himself and move on.
His stomach tied itself in a knot. Of all the insignificant noises to pass through his ears, the sound of something light leaving the wooden floor suddenly caught his attention. His reflexes kicked in, coiling himself low to the ground just as something sailed straight above his head. The fire-pit burst into a storm of ashes and shattered ice crystals, extinguished logs clattering across the floor. Vallion whipped around to his assailant.
Chenza took a wide stance on the countertop, face half-hidden behind a misty claw. A bloodied knight's cape over her shoulder settled from the motion. "I've had enough games for one lifetime. What do you say we wrap this up before the main event, Vallion?"
Vallion. The chill that slashed down his spine pulled a convulsion straight out of him. Before he could even start rushing towards the exit, every pokemon in the lobby got out of their seats, cutting off his only escape. Maybe he could've taken them all if he managed to make it to a choke-point. Maybe he could get lucky, or maybe there was enough discourse to be had between his combatants that he could escape. He could've had all the time in the world to strategize-the Weavile that charged towards him made every moment of it pointless.
She was as fast as she looked. Vallion's back was already pressed into the destroyed fireplace, corralled by the mere possibility of the damage she could do. He attempted to carve a way out with a swing of his tail, but Chenza jumped straight over and lunged for his center of mass. She latched onto him with every toe claw and talon available. Desperate to shake her off before she could deliver a finishing blow, the Serperior slammed himself into the brickwork, knocking them both off-balance.
Though he managed to get rid of the immediate danger, an arm closed around his throat almost immediately. Vallion curled his body back as he attempted a reversal on whoever tried to choke him, but another pair of arms started to pry him away. Yet another managed to grab his tail and wrestled that part of him to the ground. It took five more pokemon just to hold him down, with one Pangoro having to put their entire body weight into their knee to pin his vines.
Whoever was around his throat, they knew exactly how to put him down. All the other pains dulled compared to the explosive pressure in his skull. Vallion ground his teeth, gasping as he stared daggers into the Weavile. Chenza dusted herself off and knelt down in front of him while the world started to fade out of focus.
"To think you had me fooled for so long. Let's dull those bright eyes."
...
What a bastard of a morning.
Nibby swayed slightly in place as he turned the fallen curtain with the bend in his wing and examined the other side. It had been pulled off the rod, but not ripped or torn in any way. The plush red fabric remained as pristine as the day it was sewn. It seemed nothing could be gained from it. Sighing, he turned back to the corpse in the middle of the room.
Persian was dead. He had been dead for quite a while now, judging from the progression of the rigor mortis. The last anyone saw of him before this was just at the crack of dusk, which was mostly likely the last few moments he was even alive. The guildmaster had sustained several slashes across his body, including a fatal one which trailed from the side of his face and down into his throat, piercing the windpipe and everything else along the way. His tail was cut clean off, and the limb was nowhere to be seen.
Several more of Paradise's forces flitted in and out of the room while Nibby conducted his investigation. The only one that mattered could be heard coming from five rooms away. Kommo-o had to duck to press through the frame of the door. They didn't seem to have much sympathy for the Persian, but a murder was a murder.
"Anything new?" they grumbled.
The Noibat ruffled out his fur. "Culprit infiltrated from somewhere else in the house. The door only locks from the inside, so they were already in the room when Persian entered. If I had to guess, they were probably hiding behind that curtain. Look, let's not beat around the bush any longer than we have to. Chenza gutted this guy and ran off with his tail. That's my official conclusion."
Kommo-o shook their head. "Is there ample evidence to support that claim? Are you absolutely certain?"
"Of course I am! A Swablu of yours found Shardurr's mark carved into the chimney of this manor! The recurrence of these types of wounds, that mark for death up above, and everything else about the circumstances of this murder points to that Weavile and her alone."
"When did the murder occur?"
Nibby clicked his tongue. "Last night. Very early into last night. Likely not more than a few minutes into his bath. The state of the body and the dampness of the carpet tell me that much."
The dragon suppressed a roar in the deep of their throat, still managing to shake the room despite this. They brought a fist to their chin and let their anger disperse in one long, continuous exhalation. "That's...insultingly timed."
"How is it out there?" the Noibat asked. "Lockdown's been in effect for a few hours now, hasn't it?"
"Word of Persian's death has already spread. We couldn't tighten the lips on the servants in time. It's stirring up the hive of fools more than it should. There are three major points of protest across the city, but two are taking place in West District. It'd be too dangerous to try and suppress them while our forces are spread so thin."
"You reckon it's the beginning of the end, then?"
Twin streams of smoke left the dragon's nostrils. "No. Wrap this investigation up already. I have a front to get back to, and I've no time to get snagged on some dead merchant." A broiling storm of barely-suppressed rage, the knight captain turned tail and stomped out of the room, taking a wind of malice with them. The Breloom that had been stationed to guard the scene let out an audible sigh as soon as their superior was gone.
The bastard of a morning easily transformed into a bastard of a day. There wasn't much more to uncover with the scene. It was pretty damn clear what had happened already. but Nibby technically couldn't leave until he was dismissed. The problem was that there wasn't anyone around with a high enough rank to even dismiss him. All but two grunts who were still clearly wet around their ears remained to watch over the murder. Wasn't someone supposed to send for a mortician? Or a priest? Fucking anyone?
When it became clear that no one was going to come to relieve him, Nibby just up and left the corpse altogether. He couldn't bear waiting around for even a second longer. Half-sick with anxiety and sleep deprivation both, the Noibat took off through a window into the open air and headed for home. He already uncovered what little mystery there was. The rest was somebody else's problem now.
His flight patterns weren't the sharpest. He wasn't used to flying when the sun was shining in his eyes. Though it was a rarely pleasant day, it was still winter, and the short chance they'd get to see daylight was already almost over. The sun itself never really rose above higher than a third of the way into the sky. It wasn't anywhere near as joyful as everyone made it out to be. Especially not today of all days.
Getting home took longer than he thought it would. The thought of sleeping this nightmare away was always appealing, but it wasn't nearly enough to spur him to move any faster. After much too long spent in the glare of the sun, Nibby came to his rickety set of stairs and perched on the railing, having to catch his breath just from carrying his bag.
He noticed the door was already open.
...He noticed there was someone already inside.
He should have fled in the very moment following that realization. He should have dropped everything and got the hell out of there. Instead, he stood frozen, staring at the crack in the door until that someone finally took notice of him.
"Noibat," Swellow's voice rang out from within. "You're here. Back from Persian's investigation, I take it. Get in. This is urgent."
"...No. No, no!" he started to shout. "No, I'm through with this! Through with fucking everything! You'll have to kill me if you want me to-"
"Just get the hell in here, Noibat! You'll regret it if you don't."
Just like every time before, Nibby obeyed. He always crumpled in the end. He was always a coward. That would never change.
Swellow was perched in the center of his desk. The sunlight shone through the shutters that covered the windows, casting horizontal lines across his sparkling green feathers. It looked like he'd done a small amount of snooping, but only around the documents on top. Nibby had already disposed of everything having to do with researching Chenza. That couldn't be what this was about, right? There was no way he could've known.
"Sit down," Swellow commanded, nudging his head towards the cabinets. "There isn't much time for either of us to be here. Listen well, Noibat. You need to leave the city."
"Why? What, are you chasing me out of my own town? Of my own home? You think I'm about to listen to this shit and just take it?"
Swellow shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. By the turn of the hour, this side of the city will be engulfed in an inferno. War will break out in the streets, and the city will see a new king rise from the ashes."
"I- What?!" Nibby lunged forward on the bends of his wings. "What are you talking about?!"
"Shardurr insurgents are planting charges in Rusty Mountain District as we speak. Once the signal is given, we will burn the district to the ground. The fires and battles will easily spread to surrounding districts, including this one. This is not a threat, this is a warning. Leave this place while you still can."
It was too much to process. Nibby stared at the top of the cabinets on which he'd perched, not looking anywhere in particular. His breathing had gone ragged again. It was happening. It was happening right now, and it was much too late to prevent it. The fall of Paradise.
"...Why?" he started to say. "Why tell me?"
With a sniff, the Swellow plucked a loose feather from his coat and let it fall to the ground. "The others are cruel. They rule by power and fear alone. I know where true loyalties start and where they end. I think that you have served as an excellent pawn, Noibat. Survive, and there will be a place for you in her city when this is all over."
Just as Swellow started to extend his wings to lift off, Nibby called out to him. "Wait! Why is this happening now? Why so suddenly?"
He paused, then lowered his wings. His eyes caught on the glare of the window and pierced the Noibat. "The treacherous knight captain came to Chenza last night with some harrowing news. The Serperior that served her was a human infiltrator all along. I'm sure you were already aware of that, though. You were working with his mate this whole time, after all."
Without any further hesitation, the Swellow launched into the air and sailed across the hall, slipping out the open door in no more than three beats of his wings. Two distant beats later, he was gone. It was the beginning of the end.
Don't stop. Don't wait. Don't even think. Just go, Nibby!
The Noibat nearly crashed into the opposite wall as he launched out of his crouched position. His exhaustion had been replaced by a deep, thrumming panic that slammed into his chest like a cannonball. When he took off into the open, the indecision he'd thrust off into the back of his mind came whipping back at full force. He flitted there in mid-air for a few seconds. Then a few more. No, stop that! Just go! Go to Panne, now!
Find the direction of the capitol building! After a dizzying spin, Nibby found his place and took off in a north-western direction, flying as fast as his wings could carry him. He regretted not flying home faster. He regretted even spending all the time he did waiting around that rotting corpse. He regretted everything he'd done until this point. In spite of all that-Lucario help him-he refused to end up regretting this afternoon.
...
In the shade cast by the waning sun, behind the shadow of an office building in Rusty Mountain District, two pokemon stopped just before they were about to pass one another. A Monferno and a Nidoking. They paused to scan their surroundings, and when there were no other eyes to see them, the Nidoking passed the Monferno a burlap bag.
"Fourth office building on Stalwart Street," the Nidoking muttered to them. "Set the charge behind something, or in the snow. Wait until the signal flare goes up. Light the fuse and run. Don't stop running."
The Monferno gulped and took the bag into their arms. "Y-yeah. I'm on it. For Shardurr."
"For Shardurr." The Nidoking barely spared them a glance as they started to walk away as if nothing happened.
Then, they were alone. Throwing the bag over their shoulder, the Monferno started their brisk journey, wired to even the slightest sound. Their eyes darted from corner to corner, scouring shadows as if at any moment a battalion of guards would burst out into the open and come after them. Even still, the alleys remained silent, half-painted in the colors of the coming dusk. Most of the activity was still around West District.
Not all, though. There were still patrols around Rusty Mountain. They say Persian wound up dead last night, but no one's said anything official on it. The presence of the order around these parts begged to differ. The Monferno tried everything they could to look natural, keeping their gaze low and their feet moving. It worked for a while, owing to the chaos that already gripped the city. It didn't work forever.
While passing a small squad, a Pyroar out of the four guards that were there seemed to turn his head. "Hey. You there."
The Monferno didn't know who he was talking to. They just started to move faster.
"Hey, stop! Stop right there!"
The fire type broke out into a full-on sprint. The guards started to call out after them. There was footfall in the melting snow not far behind. Faster, faster. They couldn't afford to be caught now. Not with what was in their bag. Not with what was at stake.
Fear propelled the Monferno faster than they knew how to run. Businesses and signs whipped past in a blur. They tripped and slid on the melted slush on the sidewalks, but stumbled back into a stride in the same desperate motion. The guards weren't too far behind. They could smell the guilt. They already knew. When they caught up…
Too late. They turned around a corner and were face-to-face with yet another group of guards, already alert from the distant shouting. The Monferno twisted around in a hurry and tried to head a different direction, but there was no time left. The distance had already closed. Ducking below the Pyroar's pounce, they scrambled into a nearby alley in the hopes that it would open up into freedom. By the time they reached the sheer wall that made up the dead end, all hope was gone.
"Hold it right there!"
Backed into a corner, the Monferno stuck a hand into the bag, gripping at their payload while Paradise's protectors slowly approached. See, they already knew! They knew all along! It was much too late to toss this thing over the wall! This wasn't the right street! This wasn't even the right block!
"You stay the fuck back! I'm warning you!" Holding up the bag like this wasn't going to keep them forever. A craftier one will sneak up from behind and snatch it out of their hands! A psychic will come by and incapacitate them in an instant! It was too late! Too late!
The Pyroar huffed, backed by their entire squadron. "Stay there. Don't move an inch. Drop the bag, now."
"Why should I listen to you?! I'll just be thrown in a goddamn cellar with the rest of my brothers until we rot!" This was it. Now was the time. The Monferno wrapped their hand around every one of the smooth cylinders inside of the bag and held them to the sky.
"Long live the new king!"
They brought a spark to their palm. The blasting phosphorus caught. A white flare consumed everything, becoming a deluge of flames in seconds.
...
Everything blurred by. Time itself seemed to stretch out into something unrecognizable. Post District wasn't particularly far from here, but it must've been a ten minutes of flight at least. Nibby seemed to reach the boundaries within five. It felt like five, anyway. In the end, it would still be five too much.
He came to the palace as the sun started to bare down on the white western walls. There were almost no knights around. They were all busy on the front-lines of the revolution. In fact, all he saw were two caped pokemon guarding the great gates of the building. A Sylveon and a Kingler.
"Let me in!" the Noibat swooped down from above. "Let me in this palace right now, dammit! I need to speak to Panne!"
The Sylveon glanced up at him with the sternest, most practiced of looks. "No one's allowed in. Go back to your home. Curfew Is approaching."
"No! You don't understand! This is- Ah, to hell with you!"
Nibby lifted off on an updraft and sailed around the side of the palace. He made sure to wrap around to the western face of the building before he started to look for windows. Given the lavish architecture, it took him less than a minute to find a decent way in. Sucking in as much of a breath as his hungry lungs would allow, he gathered up all his strength into the back of his throat, and unleashed an unearthly howl from his tiny frame.
The concentrated burst of sound slammed into the glass, warping the light that shined through in the corridor beyond it. The panes shimmered and undulated until, finally, a great crack burst through the center in the blink of an eye, and the rest shattered away into a shower of glittering dust and jagged shards, falling into the building as well as the landscaping below. He barely even waited for the deathly cloud to disperse before rushing through the opening and into the palace.
Nibby shouted the Delphox's name to the empty halls. He knew she was here. He just didn't know where, and this wasn't exactly a small building. The only choice was to take the entire place one floor at a time. For all the artistry and effort put into the decor, the Noibat barely even seemed to notice any of it.
He didn't know how long had passed before she finally showed up. Panne threw a nearby door open with her telekinesis, making it sure it slammed into the wall as loudly as possible. She started to rub at her eyes, her fur looking rugged and unbrushed. "What? What?! What's with all this fucking shouting?! I was-" When she saw him, her ears flung back. "Nibby? What the fuck do YOU want? How'd you even get in here? Did you break in or something?"
"Panne, we have to go!" Nibby nearly tumbled into her, crashing onto the tile nearby before scrambling back to his feet.
"Do we, Nibby? I was doing perfectly fine in my room not a couple minutes ago."
"It's Vallion! She found him!"
The Delphox went rigid, her fists tightening around the staff she rode on. A shuddering breath left her lips. "What the fuck do you mean 'she found him'?" she quietly said.
The words somehow got caught in his throat. "It-it- It was Kommo-o! Kommo-o told Chenza your husband's true identity! She's gone off the fate-forsaken deep end! She's about to burn half the fucking city to ashes because of him! Any minute now those bombs are going to start going off! The Swellow told me personally!"
She rammed her staff into the ground with a resounding thud as she came down to his level. "Is. He. Alright? Where is he right now?"
"I- I don't know! I only know that she knows!"
Panne twisted away and rushed to a window. Nibby had to regain his balance just to take to the air after her. They ended up staring out that window for twenty seconds longer than he thought.
Plumes of smoke were already rising in the distance.
Swearing in every language she knew in between breaths, Panne whipped her staff around and muttered every thought that rushed through her head. "Kyurem was fucking right! He showed me this would fucking happen! God fucking- And where could he have gone? Did he manage to get away? Is he down there right now? I bet he is. I bet if he were here, he would tell me to go there and control the fires…"
"Panne, enough!" Nibby flew around to her face. "We need to go! No more thinking! No more waiting!"
"Shut the fuck up, you little snitch! This is all your fault!"
Nibby swallowed at the stone in his ragged throat. If not for this suicidal feeling of courage, he would've never been able to face her. "I don't care whose fault it is anymore! If you're going to Rusty Mountain, I'm coming with you! I'm done living in Shardurr's shadow! Hate me or not, I can't live like this anymore!"
Despite all the rage and pain that flashed over the Delphox's face, some other emotion butted its head in at the last second. Something almost nostalgic, like she was looking at a scene from long ago. Before that feeling seemed to fade, she slid down the length of her metal staff and swung it at the window. The shards cascaded down to her feet like a waterfall.
Panne turned to him. "If you're so fucking sorry, then follow me!"
...
Vallion struggled against his binds in vain. They'd used an exuberant amount of rope to keep him bound, owing to his body type no doubt. Knot after redundant knot kept him completely scrunched up, and his vines had been pulled all the way out from their spools in his back and tied together with the same vigor. The lamp post they'd wound him to was cold iron. It wouldn't start to give even with his greatest efforts.
Around him was a town square transformed. Gone were the carts of peddlers trying to make a living, or priests of fate offering readings for donations to their church. What surrounded him instead was a war camp. The collective hysteria that gripped the city was absent here. It was captains and commanders-soldiers, actually answering to superiors. Crude and pathetic files, but attempts at files nonetheless. The main body of Shardurr had mustered itself from a gang of lowlifes into a real army. This wasn't a riot anymore.
The arrival of their soon-to-be king was heralded with applause and fanfare. Vallion could scarcely twist his head in the direction she came from, but Chenza was there. The cape she'd stolen from a dead knight flowed freely behind her, the symbol of Paradise scribbled over in blood and emblazoned instead with the jagged letter of her gang. Shadowing her movements was a vanguard of thugs, led by the lumbering Druddigon with a scar beneath his eye.
In the descending colors of dusk, Chenza threw her arms to the skies and addressed her flock of pawns. "Finish your preparations, Shardurr! Sharpen your knives and your claws! Very soon, we will be moving out to take what is ours!" In the cacophony that followed, the Weavile turned back to the bound Serperior with a triumphant show of her fangs.
Vallion would've spit in her general direction, but he hadn't drank anything in far too long. "You're going to regret not killing me when you had the chance."
Chenza let out a cackle that would've never left the throat of a sane pokemon. "Really? You two-faced waste of skin, you're already dead! There's no need to be so hasty about it, oh no! I had always planned on publicly executing Alexander during my coronation ceremony. I would've never let you have his life, even if you were telling the truth then. Now, you're another trophy waiting to be mounted on a pike. Two humans, Vallion! Was there ever a human in the world that managed to kill two more of their own kind?!"
Two strong wing-beats. A gust of air. Freak had arrived, landing across from the Weavile on the left side of the lamp. Zoroark materialized shortly to march on up beside the Swellow, erasing a false Gliscor from the crowd.
"You won't get as far as you think you will," Vallion hissed. "You're up against a kingdom. You've backed Paradise into a corner, and it isn't just wildlings that will fight tooth and nail. Pokemon only want to live in peace. You'll find that out when your followers abandon you."
She glanced out at the militia and shook her head. "What makes you believe you know what they want? You're just as much an outsider as I am. If you're so familiar with the nature of pokemon, then why am I here leading an army while you're wrapped against a pole? Oh, how the mighty fall. The hero of the earth, destined to lose his head at the shoulders. Ain't life funny, Vallion?"
"Fuck off and die."
Laughing, Chenza reached forward and dragged a claw down his chin and over his throat. The Serperior braced himself for pain, but didn't expect that claw to start to undo the knot in his scarf. He immediately put all his effort into thrashing once more, moving every muscle he could in the vain hope that something would come loose. Chenza yanked the scarf out from his binds and regarded it with a sick curiosity. After a moment of thought, she started to tie it to her forearm.
"Don't." Vallion didn't know his voice could get so low. He hardly noticed, red hues sneaking their way into his vision. "Return that to me."
"Or what, snake?! You gonna tie me in a knot? No, I think I'm gonna keep this little trophy around for a while. I'll kill your bitch while I'm at it, and when she's bleeding on the ground I'll let her know how you cried out her name when you died. Doesn't that sound like a fun little prank to play? And then, when it's all over, I'll have two of these things to commemorate this night!"
The Serperior felt his eyes grow wide and rigid, an expressionless glare forced onto his face. At this point, his anger rendered him quiet and still. "You won't touch her, Chenza. You won't lay a fucking claw on her, and I'll be taking my scarf back. Follow through with this, and you will not see tomorrow."
"I think the time for idle threats has long passed, Vallion." She came in close, just out of range of his teeth, the horrible grin of a killer plastered across her face. "This situation you're in? It's absolute. There is no uncertainty in our futures now. I've already made destiny itself my bitch, and you're about to-"
"Chenza," Freak interrupted her, drawing a glance that had all the intent necessary to carry out an execution. The Swellow ignored this and pointed a wing into the distance. "Wrap up your gloating already. Look! It's already started!"
The eastern horizon had started to fill with smoke. Rising pillars of black had drifted up into the clouds and began to swallow up the sky. What still remained of the white clouds reflected a tinge of orange from the earth below, apart from the hues that filled the opposite horizon as the sun continued to set. Paradise was burning.
With that, Chenza gave the Serperior one last word. "Just watch, Vallion, as I force a kingdom to choose between its capital and its people."
She used him like a stepping stool, climbing higher onto the lamp post until she was hanging off the very top. Brute asserted himself with an ear-splitting roar that stopped everyone in their tracks. Their eyes drew up towards the Weavile instead, the symbol of her vengeance flowing freely behind her back.
"Pick yourselves up, Shardurr! Our moment has come! I'm sure you've all been itching for a fight since Paradise tried to lock you in your own homes, but I'm here to tell you that I've already been hard at work! Haven't you heard the rumors that have been floating around? Ones about the demise of a certain guildmaster?"
Right on cue, Zoroark reached into the pocket of his bag and tossed something up at Chenza. Vallion strained to see what it was from his angle, until the object started to dangle down as she held it aloft for all to see. It was a severed tail stiff from rot, its beige fur matted with dried blood. The crowd went wild.
"Persian is no more!" she announced, nearly breaking out into laughter in the middle of her words. "Oh, but don't celebrate too soon, my subjects! Rusty Mountain Guild's been decapitated, but this Hydreigon won't quit until we smoke it out for good! And once we've finished tearing through that district and burning all the roots, we can finally take this to the capital and put a dagger through the heart of all this! Today, we're just common rabble to be subjugated! Tomorrow, they'll be dead cold, and we will be the nobles of Paradise!"
The armed force didn't particularly need much more convincing. The energy in the air was already palpable. All the work that they'd put into organizing themselves was destroyed as the mad crowd started to gather around the lamp post in their feverish hysteria. Shardurr was never meant to be a street gang. It was a cult.
"This will be the finest night of our lives!" the Weavile continued in her frenzy. "For one night of war, you will drink the finest wines and dine on whatever or whoever you desire! You will live in the mansions on the hills! You will walk these streets knowing that the weak will never be able to lord over you again! Fall in line behind me, Shardurr, as I take my place as king! Let us march towards our destinies!"
In the uproar, Chenza threw Persian's tail to the wind and flipped off of the lamp onto the stone below. As the crowd started to mobilize from the efforts of Shardurr's field commanders, she gestured towards Freak with the wrist that wore Vallion's scarf. "Freak. Zoroark. I won't need schemers tonight. Watch the human for me while I'm out. Make sure absolutely nothing happens to him. I'll send someone down once I've secured the capital, but I think you'll be able to figure out when that happens."
A great swell of motion surged through the square. Hundreds of bodies marched off to war all at once, shouting their war cries and hollering blind, thoughtless things to the skies that they thought they were masters of. There were two currents that pulled the army apart. Chenza led her battalion towards the flames, but Brute seemed to take a path that would head somewhere north of that. It was impossible to tell exactly where the Druddigon was going.
It grew horribly quiet as the shouting faded into a hum that sprawled across the city. What few pokemon remained here seemed sheepish at best. Some of Shardurr were second guessing themselves, perhaps? It didn't matter what they thought now. They were the minority at this point.
Vallion started to struggle against his binds once more, straining every part of his body he could manage to move even slightly. The tip of his tail had decent mobility for about a foot of length, but it was nowhere near dexterous enough to untie anything. Everything was so tight that it hurt to try. It hurt even when he wasn't trying. Still, there was always a way. There was always something!
"Give it a rest, worm," Zoroark sauntered up to the Serperior, choosing to size him up rather than just stand around. "You played your game. You had us all fooled. I thought I was pretty good at my job, too, but you just showed me right up, didn't you? It was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down."
Growling through his teeth, Vallion tugged and pulled to no avail. "Get these damn ropes off of me! There's still time!"
"Hmph. Guess your sense of humor wasn't much of an act, was it? Sheesh, what a pathetic way for a living legend to end up. Conqueror of Dark Matter, huh?"
"I'm just a Serperior!" he managed to say between attempts. "Being a human doesn't make any damn difference! What's the shape of a soul even matter when we're all still pokemon?! I don't bend reality! I don't control the laws of nature! I'm a Serperior, and I'm a teacher, and an explorer! Nothing less, nothing more!"
Zoroark scoffed and turned away. "Eh? I don't think that's how it works, pal. Humans are the ones that become kings for a reason. Just don't ask me how it works-I don't really care to know."
In Zoroark's place, Freak came to stand at the foot of the lamp post. The Swellow's expression was distant, but he was most certainly looking at him. "But you are a human, aren't you? You are Vallion, and your partner is Panne?"
"Well, given that I'm in this situation- Grrh! I don't think you need confirmation at this point- Mmph! However it is you found out in the first place."
"Then let me be redundant. I want to hear it from your mouth."
He was captive, anyway. It didn't fucking matter. "Fine. You want to hear it so bad? I'm the same Vallion as the stories. I was teaching at Nexus University before this. Alexander summoned me because Chenza revealed herself as a human to him. He was superstitious-he didn't want to be on the wrong side of destiny, so he recruited the only other human he knew."
The Swellow just kept staring. "So your story was fake? The one that Chenza ended up believing?"
"Obviously not. Chenza clearly knew whenever I was lying. I didn't pretend that Alexander nearly killed Panne over a decade ago. I wasn't just pretending to hate him, either. But that was then, and what happened all those years ago doesn't matter in the fucking slightest now. Thousands of pokemon are going to die if I don't stop Chenza from tearing through the city. Shit, even Panne's in trouble now."
A lull fell over them. For another fruitless minute, Vallion exhausted himself trying to wiggle free from the post he was wrapped around. The wounds Chenza had gouged into him when he was captured had started to bleed again, but he hardly felt them. There was a desperate buzzing in his ears that reminded him every second of what was at stake.
Then, one of the ropes snapped. With a beat of the Swellow's wings and a peck of his beak, another gave way, loosening his bonds that much more. He was cutting the bonds loose.
"Wh-"
"What?!" Zoroark finished for Vallion. "Freak, what are- Stop! What the fuck are you doing?!"
Another two knots were severed. Freak walked around to the other side of the pole and looked for more convenient threads to cut. "I'm carrying out the will of fate, Zoroark."
Vallion tried to crane his head around. "Why? What do you gain from this?"
"Yeah, listen to him!" Zoroark nearly shouted, exaggerating with his hands. "You ain't deaf, man! You heard what Chenza said! It's gonna be our fucking heads on those pikes when this is all over if you keep doing that!"
"I won't expect you to know what I'm doing. I know you weren't as fond of faith as I was." Pluck. Snip. Vallion could feel the slack start to drag him down towards the ground.
Freak continued. "The Hollow uses His followers to remember several core lessons. That inaction is a cardinal sin, and that fate never exists in a concrete form. It is something that is made through an infinite horizon of crossroads and choices. Some are so insignificant that no one would ever suspect them as life-changing. Some are much more conspicuous in their significance. We are taught that both are needed in order to shape the future."
"Well what fucking choice is this?!" Zoroark clutched at his own temples. "What are you acting on?! A deathwish?!"
Enough of the rope was cut that Vallion could finally move his vestigial hands. With his vines also partially freed, he managed to bring them up to his core so he could gradually start to undo the knots that someone had tied in them. Pangs of pain radiated all the way down from the tips of his vines into his back during the process.
Freak continued his work. "Humans are the only ones who stand outside of fate. There are three humans in Paradise at this very moment, and the city is burning. It doesn't take an oracle to figure out that destiny has intended for these humans to meet. Whatever is meant to happen, the victor of those three will be the one that decides it. I'm only doing what Kyurem would want of me. Now are you going to just stand there gawking, or are you going to help me free Bright-eyes?"
"You- I- This is- Fucking unbelievable!" Zoroark managed to stutter out. After several more seconds of hesitation, his claws and dagger had joined Freak's beak in undoing the Serperior's bindings. "If you were anyone else, Freak, I would've gutted you where you stand! Remember that! Holy hell, we're in for it now..."
With both of their efforts, it wasn't more than a minute later that Vallion came crashing to the ground. After another minute, he'd freed himself from the rest of the ropes and managed to get his vines in working order. The sting of blood rushing back to constricted muscles hurt more than he cared to admit, but he could still move. He could still run.
"Freak," Vallion started to say, stretching out for one last moment before he would have to move as fast as he could. "No. Swellow. Th-"
"Save your breath," Freak cut him off. "You're going to need it. May Kyurem illuminate your path, Vallion. Don't make me regret the path I just chose."
...
The sky above Paradise was split down the middle. On one side, the sun had nearly made its descent, casting strained yellows across the cloud banks that faded into violet. On the other, inky plumes invaded the atmosphere, their bulbous undersides capturing the colors of the inferno that had begun to unravel beneath them. Soon, the sun would concede the sky, and the light of destruction would solely illuminate the city.
The threads had snapped. The supports had failed. Everything was in a free-fall, barreling at sickening speeds towards what was always meant to be.
There were no guards at the borders anymore. Pokemon fled the city in droves. Families were separated in the chaos, swept up by the riptide. Those that didn't have time to flee gathered as far as they could from the mayhem, forming clusters in community centers and homes on the outskirts of the city. Some stayed their ground and tried to protect all they had. Some abandoned everything for a chance to see another day. Nobody was exempt from destiny.
A Serperior with golden eyes and a barren neck surged through the abandoned streets, making a line straight for the capitol.
A Delphox with a lame leg sailed towards the billowing clouds of smoke on a metal staff. Above her flew a Noibat who was so stricken with uncertainty that his mind had blanked out.
This night would be remembered as the night Paradise was torn apart.