Dad's grave sat on the other side of the lake near our house, Lake Verity. Every year, we would tend to his grave and have a short funeral service. This way, the dirt of the grave never became overgrown with weeds and grass, but sometimes flowers would sprout there, and we would let them remain there. Of course, as the brisk winters swept over the land, the flowers would not remain, but the next year in turn would bring more flowers than before.
The grave had been there probably before the time I was even able to recall memory. The tombstone was a bit faded, but one could still make out the text engraved on the stone which read, "Here lies, The Great Charizard, known to his loved ones as Jerry" and the years he was born and died. Even if I hadn't known him, every time we visited the grave, I felt the worst kind of sadness, growing exponentially as I became older and more self aware. Even though I didn't ever know him, a terribly empty feeling washed over me, as if I had lost my best friend, as if... something was missing, but I didn't know what.
As we walked along to the lake, I noticed Mom was trembling more than usual. Now, it was normal for her to shed a tear, but while we walked, we would usually talk about things, life, about the future, about anything, really. But she hadn't said a single word since we left the house, and I caught a glimpse of her eyes watering up already, but she looked more frustrated than just sad. Frustrated, as if being torn between decision. What decision? What was there to decide, other than what I was thinking, which probably wasn't going to happen?
Mom found it rather difficult to get words out, but she instructed my to lay the bouquet of blue flowers that I was holding and set it on top of the grave. The blue, as Mom had told me before, represented Dad's power. Of course, that was when I believed her tall tales of Dad being more than just a businessman working for a tech company.
"These flowers represent my father, the Great Charizard. May his soul forever..." I paused briefly, because when I was speaking, I felt a tingle, a pulse of some sort rush through me, warming me up on the inside. It was pleasant, but at the same time a bit scary, because I didn't know what was happening for a moment. I didn't know where I was, I didn't know what was going on. I felt... powerful. Melancholy swept over me, causing me to tear up a little, but at the same time, I felt invigorated and full of energy like I never felt before. And if that wasn't enough to get me going, I began to recall more of my dream; the girl I was with, she wore a cap and a bandanna covering her face, so I wasn't able to see her face. I was wearing some kind of coat with a slightly torn scarf that billowed in the wind, and when the demon struck, I dashed forward and punched the monster with all my strength.
"Vincent...? Vincent?" called Mom, which snapped me back into the present.
"Huh...? What happened?" I stood there, realizing that I had been looking down with a blank expression at the grave for possibly minutes.
"You were about to finish saying, 'may his soul forever...'" she reminded.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's right. Uh, may my father's strong soul forever rest... in..." I hesitated, still reflecting on what had just happened, but snapped out of it and finished my sentence. "... peace." Something weird was going on; I felt a vibe I had felt only a few times in the past, and only briefly at that. I glanced over my shoulder at Mom, who had a worried look, more worried than before. I gave her a reassuring smile to have her believe that I was fine, but nothing in her expression changed. Silently, she held out her hand and we made our way back to the house. Naturally, I was a bit scared, as I didn't know what was going through her head. I was worried about everything. To make things less awkward, it seemed, Mom left the house for the day, leaving me to myself at home in my own thoughts.
xxxx
Being left alone in my thoughts is one of the worst things that anyone can ever do to me. When I'm left alone in my thoughts, I discovered that to prevent myself from going insane, music helps calm my nerves and allow me to think more rationally. It would break my heart to say that Mom did this, but fortunately that's not the case. She would never try to corrupt my thoughts, but the crazy man that used to live by us would. Just thinking about that man now makes me angry, but luckily I never saw him again. I remember his name; Lucifer. A twisted name, ugly and vile sounding like some kind of poisonous, rabid animal. He was a deranged asshole, and every night I would go to bed, using the words he used when yelling at me to curse him out, once I learned how to use them correctly.
Lucifer had been living in Twinleaf even before Mom moved into town, and when she did, she described him as a "short balding man with turd brown hair and gold teeth, with a fat nose and flab bulging out from his neck even visible underneath the dense jungle of a lumberjack beard he so proudly owned, a crusty face that couldn't even attract the filthiest of vermin if he tried, with barf-inducing features so vile and disgusting that he drove the mere stench of month old trash ten feet away from him." His hands always remained cold and clammy or most of the time covered in slimy mucus from his constantly dripping pig nostrils. His almost unibrow gave him the appearance of an early homo erectus, and to add to that vibe, he constantly reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and diarrhea.
Aside from his grotesque features, his behaviors were even shittier than his appearance. Mom told me horror stories of him hitting on her ever since she moved in. At first she didn't want to be rude about his appearance and let him down easy, but Lucifer saw this as her playing hard-to-get and tried hard to get her attention, doing embarrassing things like singing for her in the middle of the town, making her stuff like food, writing her letters, but this obviously drove her away even more, until she told him to stop. Just one word: stop. Yet he persisted, throwing Mom what were supposed to be "sexy" looks, but his face ended up looking like someone took a shit in a mud pile and it dried, only to have it stepped in again. He made a fool out of himself, and he was hurt and angry. He of course had to let everyone know, until it got to the point where he decided that getting drunk and beating his son would look cool and make him appear as a "bad boy" or something stupid like that. All it did was make both me and Mom resent him all the more. He yelled and screamed at his boy, who was about my age at the time, and beat him for any reason whatsoever.
One day, Mom hadn't come home from work yet and I thought it to be a good idea to play in the rain that day. As I was playing, however, I noticed the boy standing out in the rain with nothing but his underwear on, facing the wall of his house and sobbing uncontrollably, his bruised and blood covered back exposed to the rain. I was 7 at the time, and Mom had taught me to love my neighbors as I loved myself. As a naïve and innocent kid, I took this literally and the goodness of my heart reached out to this boy, my literal neighbor, and I invited him into my house. I let him go upstairs into the bathroom and wash off his back, and then I cleaned him off with the gauze that Mom kept under the sink when he was done. I lent him some of my clothes to wear temporarily, I remember I lent him one of my favorite shirts, a black shirt with a split Pokéball emblem and a jagged, blue lightning bolt running diagonally through the Pokéball. It was a bit big for the both of us, but he accepted the shirt graciously and smiled. I didn't know how he was able to smile in such a horrible circumstance, but after that, we got to know each other and became friends.
His name was Jordon, with an O, (I remember him emphasizing that all the time) and he was a bit shorter than me. Upon his head he had locks of burgundy, not like his shitty father. From this, I could tell that his father was (fortunately) his step father, who cheated on his biological mother with many other women. His mother wasn't any better than his step father, and she beat him too. Jordon was only really close to his father, but he one day disappeared and never returned. Then his mother left him with Lucifer, and his corruption began there. This all happened in the span of two years, explained Jordon, but all the while he kept his head up and never gained a negative thought. I never saw him frown, only when his step father made him cry, but other than those times, he never wore a frown and kept his youthful face bright and cheery. He wasn't the brightest, as he wasn't fully homeschooled, but his street smarts were alright. That day when I brought him in from the rain, Mom came home and I asked her if he could sleep over. There was slight hesitation in her answer, but that was only because she didn't know his story at first, and how he wasn't actually that pig's son.
"Please Mom? He was standing out in the rain and he was cold! And-and he wasn't homeschooled! Can you teach him?" I had said.
"Hm… I mean, I would, but considering the… uh, circumstances, I don't know whether his step father will say yes or no." She chose her words carefully, not wanting to say anything bad about his step father in case Jordon had a hidden respect for him. Mom was never one to be disrespectful, surprisingly never stepping out of line even when around Lucifer. Speaking of Lucifer, he burst through the door right around this time, as if he actually cared about the well being of his son.
"There you are, you little..." he began, but once he saw my mom standing there, he straightened himself up as much as he could and smiled politely.
"Ah! Good evening, Isabelle! You're looking fine as usual!" he snickered. He was a perv, I knew, even if I didn't know the word for it yet.
"Do you need something?" said Mom as if she was oblivious to the current situation.
"Yes, I'm here to take my son home. He really needs a good beating when we get there...!" He said towards Jordon, giving him a nasty glare.
"Well actually, I was thinking it over, and since my kind son let him in earlier because you made him stand out in the rain," she emphasized this part mostly, but this only made Lucifer glare at me as well. "Because you made him stand out in the rain, I've decided that it would be alright for him to spend the night here."
This upset Lucifer very much so. "What...?! I-I-what?! That's outrageous! Jordon! Get over here this instant! Ooh, when we get home, you'll be in so much trouble..." When Jordon heard this, he hid behind my back and shuddered.
Mom seemed to get an idea. "Alright, how about this? If you let him stay over at our house for a while and allow me to properly homeschool him, I'll give you a kiss. How does that sound?"
Lucifer thought for a moment, and an sly smile appeared on his ugly mug, which made both me and Mom shudder. Whatever perverted thoughts were going through his head were probably not good, that's to say.
"Alright! Aw yeah! How bout that! But you gotta kiss me now! Otherwise I'll just be taking him home." Mom was definitely hesitant about this, as she wasn't so enthusiastic about giving a kiss to a pile of shit, but her caring won over her, so she bent down to lucifer's face, but before she could do anything, Lucifer grabbed both of her shoulders and planted the most disgusting, mushy kiss on her lips. Afterward, he left much happier than he was feeling before. Mom, on the other hand, didn't come out of the bathroom for the rest of the evening.
Mom began homeschooling Jordon, and thus Jordon rarely went home. Day by day, he became smarter and grew with us, and our friendship became stronger. We would often take walks out to the lake and skip stones, walk through tall grass and find wild Pokémon, talk about dreams and laugh and play after our homeschooling sessions.
Then the worst thing happened to Jordon and us. Lucifer decided it would be a good idea to corrupt the innocent mind of his stepson's little friend, and he started by acting friendly to me, even though I didn't like him. But one day he lured both of us into his filthy, untidy house. I was worried that he would try to beat us, and I was correct. He hit me over the head with a chair, broke full beer bottles on my head, and rammed my head into the walls, leaving big holes and cracks. Jordon didn't have it much better, and afterward, Lucifer wasn't done with us yet; he decided after a bit of "roughhousing" that we could all become "pals" and have a fun "movie night", but what he showed us wasn't no Bambi. Oh no. He showed us some of the most violent horror movies, forcing us to watch, hitting us with beer bottles if we tried to look away. That day was one of the worst days of my life, the day that began to create the monster inside me. And it wasn't just that day, oh no. This torment and horror continued on for weeks, to the point where I was starting to go insane, and that was exactly what Lucifer wanted. He wanted the purity and childhood innocence taken away from us, and he succeeded in his aims, until one day when he was tormenting us again, Mom had been looking for me and eventually found us being exposed to Lucifer's porn stash against our will, and when she saw this, I saw a side of her that I hadn't ever before witnessed, and that was her furious side. With a hard punch, she hit Lucifer's mole face and caused him to destroy some furniture that he collided with. Mom took both me and Jordon by our hands and took us home and made sure we were both okay, asking us why didn't tell her about this before, to which I told her that Lucifer threatened to beat us to death if we told her. The next day, Mom marched over to Lucifer's house and gave him the most non-disrespectful but yet threatening earful ever, but only verbally respectful. She's one of those people who doesn't follow the rule of "if your neighbor takes your coat, give them your shirt as well". Instead, she taught me a quite different rule of thumb, the "eye for an eye" rule. This, I didn't know would affect my life so much, but just like that, my childhood innocence was taken from me; I was a grown up. Well, basically.
On the very same day, Jordon left us a note, saying that he was running away and we would never see him again. I was down, now that my childhood friend had left us, and a week later, Lucifer also moved out. The house was left surprisingly spotless, clean down to the last dust particle. Mom had decided that she would properly give me "the talk" because the whole traumatizing experience left me confused and afraid of the world, but once I gained understanding and a bit of encouragement from Mom, I was back to living a normal life, trauma-free.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, would be as traumatic as what Mom told me the day we returned from the lake.
xxxx
I had taken a nap, fallen asleep with calming music drifting through my ears. It was quiet enough for me to hear the sound of Mom calling me from my doorway, and then from the side of my bed when I didn't wake up fully.
"Vincent? Sweetie, wake up..." A gentle nudge on the shoulder got me to open my eyes and see mom standing next to my bed in her normal clothes. As I gathered thought and tried to piece reality together, I noticed that she looked about on the verge of tears, but also frustrated and torn. She gave an assuring smile and as I sat up, she hugged me close as if she didn't believe that I existed, and was checking to make sure.
"Mom, are you alright...? I myself was worried, not so much of what had happened earlier because I felt fine, but I was more concerned about Mom's state of being. She may have given an assuring smile, but this alone didn't do much of a good job of masking her emotions.
"I'm fine..." Which translated to the exact opposite. "Come downstairs with me. I have to talk to you about something."
Within minutes, she had me seated at the dining room table and sat herself across from me. This had never happened before, her deliberately sitting directly across from me to talk to me, so I was actually kind of worried.
"I want to know what you're feeling. Can you tell me about that nightmare you had?" questioned Mom with a look as worried as mine.
"I'll tell you what I remember. I remember that I was on a quest with this girl, I couldn't see her face because it was covered with a bandanna, and she had a cap and a ponytail. She was struck by this demon, and... I just couldn't help but feel so sad about this girl I never met but died right in front of me."
Mom nodded, and reached under the table and brought up a shopping bag that I hadn't seen. "I have my own theories, but the one that concerns me the most is my hypothesis that your dream might be a foresight. Tell me. What did the demon look like? Was it big?"
"Yes, it was big. It was very big, towering over both of us. It had this sword and red veins pulsated from its dark body. its face, I wasn't able to make out the details of, but I remember everything was on fire."
Mom nodded even slower than before and struggled to find the words to speak. "First, I'll start by telling you what that meant. You might be wondering why I'm concerned about this, but that's because..." Mom, after a long pause, pushed the words out. "... I had a dream very similar to yours. Very similar. Except it was with your father, and I saw him die again. This is where I have to tell you something that I've hidden from you all this time." At this point, I was shocked to see tears streaming down Mom's face. I had never seen her cry before, because I always knew her as a strong mother who tackled through everything, but this time was different. She had been hurt from something from the past, and now it was taking its toll on her.
"Remember all the tall tales I told you about your father? Well, that day I told you those stories weren't real is because I knew you were smart enough to put two and two together, and I didn't want you knowing yet."
A horrible feeling washed over me, and I prayed to god that she wasn't going to say what I thought she was about to say. When she failed to say anything due to a waterfall of tears streaming down her face, I saved her the trouble by saying what I thought she was trying to tell me. "Don't tell me... were those tales all real?" She could only force herself to nod. "But then... despite how powerful he was, he still died in that accident... wait, that doesn't make any sense... how could a simple car crash kill him?"
"Vincent, sweetie... I think it's time for you to know the truth."
"What... what truth...?" My stomach churned, and I mentally prepared myself for what I was about to hear.
But never in a thousand years could I prepare myself for what was about to be said.
"Vincent... your father didn't die in a car crash. He... he sacrificed himself for us. I witnessed it before my very own eyes... the horror... Vincent, your father was m... m-murdered... torn limb from limb by a chainsaw, guts hacked out of his chest...!" She couldn't even speak for the longest time, as she sobbed heavily into her hands, creating a pool of tears on the table. Loud, unnatural howls erupted from my mother's covered mouth as she remembered the terrible way that Dad met his end.
But at this point, I could care less about what Mom felt. I cared not for the tears she wept, because I couldn't even bring out my own. It was a matter beyond even tears. At first, I couldn't even think, but then I let her words sink in, then the cogs in my mind began turning. I was sad for a second, but that was all thrown out the window as the anger of the next door abuse long past, the long pent up anger of my childhood returned, but now fresh and alive in a new soul. My rage awakened, burning hot and bright.
"Mom! Why didn't you tell me?! WHY?!" I practically screamed.
"I-I didn't want you to be traumatized-"
"TRAUMATIZED?! AS IF THAT'S NOT THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY!" I didn't take into account Mom's feelings, but I didn't even care at the moment.
"Listen sweetie, I understand that-" I didn't want to hear what she was going to say; I was too angry.
"NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, ANYTHING!" I hollered. At this point, I didn't care about her feelings; I was too angry to notice. "... I trusted and believed everything you ever said, but you don't understand what that means to me! You... AUUGH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! WHY WOULD YOU HIDE SOMETHING SO IMPORTANT FROM ME?!" As I yelled, I was so angry that I didn't even notice that my habit came out.
"Vincent... you..." whispered Mom as I stood there panting.
"Yes. I know. I burst into flames when I'm angry." This was true, as I stood before Mom, flames waving from every part of my body.
"That's not it, though. I know why you're so angry. I understood why. You were there when your father died, but you were so young that you couldn't possibly remember. But you only cried when your father died."
"What... what are you saying now...?! WHY WOULD I BELIEVE ANYTHING YOU SAY AFTER THAT?!" I cried.
"Listen! I understand why you're so upset! You... shared a special bond with your father, not just family wise, but because you're his son!"
"WAY TO BE OBVIOUS! WHAT ELSE IS NEW!?"
"No, you don't understand..."
"I UNDERSTAND FULLY!" I couldn't contain myself anymore, and with my special power, I cloaked my hand in flames and slammed it down onto the table, breaking it in two.
"While I passed down my Steel Arts to you, your father also passed his special art down to you... his Fire Arts. Because of that, you have a direct link to him; you're not just his son, but his descendant."
"I don't even know... WHAT THAT MEANS!" I growled, causing my mother to recoil.
"Your Fire Arts... they're not only a power passed down from your father, but also a forbidden art that has been passed down to the leaders of the Charizard Legion. You were the next leader of the Charizard Legion, and that's why your father named you Vincent, or part of the reason. Vincent means a 'victorious leader' or 'victory', but that's also because… there lived a Charizard from long ago, known as the True Charizard, who created the Fire Arts, and passed it down to his descendants for centuries. When you were born, your father believed that you possessed the power of the True Charizard from long ago. You were to prove that you were the True Descendant, but... I didn't want you to because I wanted the Charizard Legion to die out so that they wouldn't chase after us anymore. I did it for your sake! I... I did it because I care about you!"
"You... you don't understand what, how that affected me! You crushed my dreams when you told me that I couldn't be a trainer! You made me think that my powers would go to waste, sitting in some boring office building for the rest of my life!"
"Sweetie, that's what this bag is for." Mom reached inside the bag and pulled out a hat; a hat that trainers wore, a Pokémon trainer snapback hat. "Since I can't hide it anymore, I'm going to let you be what you've always wanted to be. A hero that will save the world. At first, I wanted the Charizard Legion to die out quietly, but in the dream I had, Jerry, your father, told me that some members of the Charizard Legion were still alive, traveling the world. He told me in the dream... to finally tell you the truth, and..." When she paused, she brought up a trainer bag from under the table and a windbreaker jacket. "... I want you to fulfill your destiny now. It was inevitable. That dream that happened, may be a foresight, thus, if you weren't there, then who knows what would become of the world. I know this is what you want to do. And now I want you to follow your dream."
I felt like I could cry, but I couldn't even force myself to, and I was still angry. Without saying a word, I grabbed the backpack from Mom and then turned and ran upstairs to pack stuff for my journey. I couldn't feel excitement, though, because I was still trying to process what happened, the full story.
"How could she...?!" I muttered angrily to myself. "I'll... I'll kill whoever murdered Dad...! After all, it's an eye for an eye, but this time, it's not just an eye for an eye... they took my father's life, I won't just kill the person who killed him, no. I'll kill everyone wo was involved. I'll kill everyone who had anything to do with the matter. And then when all is said and done..." I wasn't sure of what to do next. At the moment, I just stood there with a pile of clothes on my bed, confused and hurt and angry.
"Sweetie...?" I heard Mom's voice from behind me, but I didn't turn around to face her. When I didn't turn around, she came up next to me and looked at my face, the burning red ball of rage that I had become.
"I know this is a lot in one moment, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"I'll... I'll get them... I SWEAR I WILL!" I growled, vibrating intensely. Mom didn't speak for a second afterward, but had a worried look on her face nonetheless.
"I know what I taught you, but I think it'd be best to leave it alone." Mom sighed and placed her hand on my back. "I know you're angry. I know you hate the person who killed your father. But now I'm saying, if you want to avenge your father, that's alright, but it's best to leave it alone."
"NO! IT'S... NOT!" I yelled. "While you're talking about forgiveness and all, that person who murdered Dad may well be on the loose as we speak..."
"No, he's not. When your father died, he unleashed a final attack that eliminated everyone that was around him. The person who murdered your father, well, he wasn't killed, as possibly evidenced from those dreams we had, but if we don't chase after him, then he won't go after us."
"That's not the point! Look at Lucifer, for instance. Sorry for bringing him up. He persisted. He was relentless, never gave up doing what he did best; being a stupid, pervy dumbass. What makes you think that the murderer isn't also relentless? Based on just the example of Lucifer, do you think murderers relent? Do evil people relent?" Mom was lost for words, clearly not having thought of that.
"Huh? Do evil people relent? If someone wanted to wipe out half the population of the universe, would they relent?" I persisted.
"I know where you're coming from, but I mean to say..."
"What? What could you say that could crush my soul even more? How can you possibly crush me even more?"
Immediately, my mother began bawling her eyes out once again. At first I was angry because she wasn't answering me, but then I took a second to think and really understood why she was crying so much. Not just because she witnessed Dad's death, not just because she knew that I was absolutely horrified and traumatized by the truth, but because she knew what my intentions would be after telling me all this, and realized that what she did. Mom had probably been thinking about it all day at work, and knew that I would be absolutely crushed and lash out. Thus, she resolved the issue within herself as hard as it was to let me go. The issue was not how I would react to the truth or whether I could handle it or not, but rather that she had been delaying the inevitable and was scared to let me face the murderer by myself in the high possibility that I would be end up like Dad.
"... Mom…" I felt tears starting to come on, but I tried my best to suck it up and not act so pathetic. "I... alright. I shouldn't have said that. I don't want to hurt you; I don't want to hurt anyone."
"I... know that..." sniffed Mom. "I just want what's best for you... if you want to avenge your father, then by all means, do that if it satisfies you! I just... can't bear to crush your dreams. That was one of the hardest decisions for me to make..."
"I get it; I understand. But although I don't want to hurt anyone, although you don't want me to go after them, at the end of the day... it's my decision. I get it now. I get what you were trying to say." There was an awkward pause as I thought of something to say.
"I'm... sorry Mom."
"No, you shouldn't be sorry...! You have a right to be angry! I understand you. I remember once..." Mom started to say something, but then decided against saying something she might regret. "N-never mind. I should be the one apologizing. I'm... I'm so sorry for hiding everything from you! I know your childhood may not have been the cleanest or the most perfect, well, quite opposite thanks to..." Mom seemed to gag a bit, but I new what she was going to say. "Uh, never mind that too. But you're practically grown up now, so I figured you could handle the truth about your father."
"I'm sorry for, well, lashing out, and uh, breaking the table," I muttered sheepishly.
"That's alright, and I was thinking about getting another table anyway." After a moment, Mom pulled me into a tight, motherly hug that assuaged and quenched the raging flames of my irate heart. "I'm sorry, sweetie..." she cried softly.
"Mom, stop apologizing. It's not your fault. It's someone else's," I replied with emphasis, shaking a bit and tensing my muscles, but soon Mom's warm hug relaxed all feelings of hate, and my anger subsided.
"I don't want you to be angry. I know you can't help it, but that's because you're growing. You must learn to control it."
"I'll try. I will."
Once the hug broke up, Mom pulled up the bag with all the stuff in it and pulled up a shoebox with the brand Gyaradidas on it, along with the hat and jacket and bag.
"This is what you've always wanted, right?"
"Yeah. It is. This is it," I replied, sliding the jacket on, then the backpack, the shoes, and finally, the hat. I felt awesome as a surge of energy rushed through my soul, kindling a new fire in my heart. I knew that what lay ahead of me was a rough road; a road full of obstacles and destruction and rage, but I would honor my father and continue his and the Legion's legacy.
"Are you heading out now, sweetie?"
"Yeah. I have a long way ahead of me..." I clenched my fist and a hot flame burst forth from it, a flame of a heart so passionate, so wild, yet to be tamed. "But I'll be back someday. For starters, I'll try to become stronger by taking on the Elite Four of Sinnoh. I know it won't be easy, but I've wanted to do it my whole life. Now's my opportunity." As I spoke to Mom, we had started walking downstairs to the door, and I was standing in the doorway, giving Mom one last hug before I left.
I had no idea what lay ahead of me, I had no idea how strong I would get, or how much I would change through the years. I didn't know what I would get myself into. If that dream I had was a foresight, I would have to push all my limits, to go beyond. But I was willing to endure all of it, for Dad, for Mom, for myself, for the entire Charizard Legion...
… and most importantly, for the world.
