I always do those pre/post chapter author notes, and whilst I understand they may sound uninteresting, I strongly recommend reading those as they serve as a complement to my work.

Once again, I had to split the chapter, but I promise next chapter will conclude the 'prologue' of this story. Early chapters are important to establish character's personality traits and to appeal to new readers, so I'll be focusing in quality over quantity.

I also decided to already tag the characters who will play a huge role in this arc beforehand; since I plan in introducing them in the next 3-4 chapters. Since this is a harem story, you'll see the OC having romantic interactions with them at some point, although they won't have a 'complete' ending as there are still two other arcs planned at least. I might make have the OC hooking up with other girls who aren't tagged as they are 'minor' characters when compared to the first three, so the fact that a favourite of yours isn't in this list doesn't necessarily means that they won't appear.

Also, if it wasn't clear from the previous chapter, Peter's chapters and dialogues are written in British English as he comes from Galar, which was inspired by the real-life United Kingdom. Likewise, you'll see American English being spoke by Unovan characters chapters and dialogues, as Unova draws inspiration from the New York metropolitan area.

"Better to die fighting for freedom then be a prisoner all the days of your life." ― Bob Marley

Chapter Three: Vandalism 101

17 days until the deadline

It's funny how a single phone call could change a person's life. I wasn't foreign to that concept; after all it was my phone talk with Bruce that removed any lingering doubts I had regarding my future.

I was also expecting a call; I knew it was bound to happen too. But when it came, my entire world turned upside down.

I glanced at my smartphone's digital clock. It read 6:37 am. I've had to woke up around four in the so I could take a bus from Castelia to the western part of the Route 4. The longer days of summer combined with the seemingly infinite sand dunes made the place feel unbelievably hot. Still, it was there, staring down menacingly at me. The famed Institute of Unova, one of the premier academies in forming new trainers. A huge plot of land, guarded by fences, which extended itself into the Unovan Desert. The academy's grounds were contrasting to the rest of the scenario, as they were painted in emeraldine grass, a perfect metaphor as the trainers formed there are unlike any others.

I approached the garrison gate but, before I could identify myself to the guards, a male voice interrupted me.

"It's okay, we were expecting you."

The man who spoke was dressed in a lab coat, black pants and black dress shoes. He had short brown hair and small grey eyes, which were surrounded by a half-rimmed pair of glasses. He extended his hand, offering me a handshake.

"Peter Thornham, I presume?"

"That's me." I said shaking the man's hand.

"My name is Hawes Garnett and I was assigned to escort you to the first part of the exam, follow me."

He led me into the pathway that led to the main building, a huge mansion that served as the Institute's main building. The mansion had three floors and extended itself through the grass.

"It's huge." I commented

"It sure is, and that's only the main building. Should you happen to be accepted here you'll live into a dorm and have access to the other building." The man commented, before changing subjects. "They explained the entire process to you?"

"They said that I am to take a written test and then do a practice session for the football coaches."

"Football? Here it says that you're trying out for soccer team." He frowned, glancing at the clipboard

"Yes, soccer. It's that in Galar we usually refer to it as football. My mistake."

"Oh, so you're from Galar? Tell me do you know any fossils from there?"

"What a weird thing to say." I've decided not to voice my thoughts, instead opting for the diplomatic answer. "I'm afraid I don't."

The man pouted as we entered the main building. The insides were even more classy and lavish than the outside; the mahogany floors and the marble statues and pillars made sure I felt totally out of place.

As we travelled down the corridor and stopped in front of a wooden door, the proctor turned to me.

"Your admission exam has three parts: a written exam, a practical exam and finally an interview with the headmaster. After you're finished with the written exam one of the team's assistant coaches will be here to escort you to the soccer field." Hawes turned to leave, before speaking to me once again. "I teach Archaeology as an elective class; should you pass I'd recommend looking at it."

The admittance exam was probably the hardest exam I had to take my entire life. I know for certain that my intellect is certainly well above the average; at Galar I managed to stay atop the class rankings even without making much of an effort. Still, here things were different. In Galar a huge part of my positive results came from the fact that I didn't let the pressure and expectations affect me, leading to a high level of confidence and calmness. Here I knew that this was the most important exam in my life; success would push the plan and my quest for vengeance forward; failure would be a major setback and would make the gap between me and Bruce even bigger.

The question themselves weren't impossible. They were hard but not impossible by any means. What made the whole process so gruesome was the sheer length and the absurd amount of focus required by it. There were overly extensive questions, where you would have to reread each time to make sure you got every part right; there were those trick questions, designed only for you to reconsider every decision you take. The test itself was divided in five areas: mathematics, society, language, sciences and pokémon.

Mathematics was mathematics, not hard for me, but demanding and tiresome, but a good result is possible, even expected. Society would include subjects such as history, geography and sociology; I've learned early on that the trick in those kinds of subjects was to write exactly what the professor grading the exams would want; most of the times it usually meant writing facts laced with the 'accepted' public opinion, even if I personally didn't agree with it. Still, I struggled in some of the questions as they were much more focused on Unovan history, which I didn't know extensively. Language was probably my weakest subject, so I tried to approach it in a manner that would at least net me the points for the 'easy' questions. Sciences was harder than mathematics and even more detail oriented, I did reasonably well, but I'm sure that dropped some points along the way. Pokémon studies were the final subject, and in this one my previous knowledge helped me, a lot; the approach was definitively different than what we had in Unova; but the knowledge required was still the same.

The final part was to write an essay about "Truth or Ideals? In which of those principles our world should be based?". I'm a pragmatist, not only in pokémon battles but also in life. The obvious choice for me was the 'Truth'. My thesis is that while 'ideals' could be changed from a person to another; 'truth' could be distorted but in the end it absolute.

As I handled the examiner my exam, completely drained, I was soon met outside of the classroom by a hulking blonde man wearing red tracksuit.

"Peter Fucking Thornham." The man greeted me enthusiastically with a slap on my back that would certainly leave a mark. "I'm your new assistant coach. You can call me Hammer, Hammer Davis."

Hammer was certainly not the man's real name. Think of those guys you would see on those gyms working out for hours. Yeah, that's him.

"Now Thornmeister, let's get you a spot in this team." The man said, with another forceful slap on my back.

"Thornmeister?"

After a quick stop at the dressing room where I changed into the team's cyan training uniform, I found myself walking to the pitch. Apparently, the Institute of Unova has an entire sport complex, with facilities for known sports, such as football, swimming and baseball; to most obscure ones, such as fencing, archery and even curling. The football, or as they insisted, soccer, pitch was in pristine condition.

In the centre of the pitch stood a light skinned man who looked to be in his earlies fifties, due to the grey hairs and slightly wrinkled face. He turned to me.

"My name is John Stokes and I'm the head coach of the team."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, coach." I said in my best attempt of sounding respectful.

"I saw some videos of you playing back in Galar, and I won't lie, I was impressed." His expression turned serious however. "But you quit competitive soccer three years ago, and three years are a lot for any competitive player."

"I am aware of that and I'm determined to work even harder to catch up. As you said, I lost three years of competitive foo…soccer, but I'm sure I can still compete out there."

"I'll be the judge of that." The head coach said harshly. "We'll run some drills; then have a light workout. If you impress us, I'll advise the headmaster to offer you a scholarship."

He motioned towards the cones, arranged in a line.

"First one is basic dribbling, we'll evaluate your time and movements." The coach then retrieved a ball and set it in front of the cones. "You'll do it five times." He took a stopwatch from his pocket. "Ready…GO!" he yelled.

Being short sucked in so many different levels. But, for once I admit that sometimes it had its perks. Such as now, the smaller you are the closer your gravitational centre is to the ground; which means that you'll be able to make sharper, and faster, changes of direction. It's not bullshit, it's simple physics. Before I could even realize my body had already moved on its own and I performed the drills; in fact, not too long after that, I heard the coach's whistle, marking the end of the drill.

The coach offered no remark about how well I did in the first drill, instead motioning towards another set of cones; fifteen in total, littered in a random pattern. "Next up is short passing. Fifteen cones, fifteen balls; your objective is to knock out each cone. We'll also take time, and the pass strength in consideration, as this emulates a game situation. If a cone gets knocked too far, you'll lose some points." He announced, once again looking at his stopwatch. "GO!"

While harder than the first drill, it was still very doable. The only hinderance was measuring the strength of the passes, something that didn't come in my mind when I was playing for real. Still I did well, knocking out twelve of the fifteen, blasting off two due to strong passes and missing one by a few inches.

Coach then motioned towards an empty goal with four bins strapped at each of its corners. "Let's see your finishing abilities next. Me and Davis will be passing ball to you in several different manners, once you've touched the ball you can't dribble forwards; thus, your ball control, that will also be judged, will be essential. Finishes at the bins will be rewarded." He then blew his whistle, once again marking the start of the exercise.

This was the one thing I exceled the most. If I had to rate myself out of ten, I'd consider my passing to be a six and my dribbling to be a perfect ten…my finishing is an eleven though. It was second nature; control the ball, glance at the goal, prepare my body for the strike; all in one swift motion. I took advantage of the lack of opposition to contest or block my shots and took a patient approach, focusing in netting shots at the bins with my left foot. Soon the balls became more difficult to control and more aimed at my right side, and into my weaker foot. Keyword being weaker not weak; while I did indeed prefer to sue my left one, I could easily adjust to finish with the right; I lost some of the power, but still scored easily. As the balls stopped coming, I noted that coach was speaking in rushed tones with 'Hammer'.

"I'll be stepping aside to take care of some matters; assistant Davis will oversee your workout and report to me." The head coach announced, before leaving the pitch.

"Ok, do this." Hammer announced enthusiastically.

For the next one hour I had probably the heftiest workout of my life. I felt like life was drained of me. One thing I had to admit was that Hammer was good at motivating people. I did leg presses, bench presses, pull ups, sit ups, sprints, push-ups, you name we did it.

When the coach Stokes came back, he looked disapprovingly at his assistant. "I said to run a light workout." He said, putting emphasis on the light part.

Hammer looked sheepish. "I got carried away?"

The head coach the glanced at my sprawled out in the floor form. "Are you still alive?"

I couldn't even speak, so I just groaned.

"Good, quickly take a shower, the headmaster is waiting for you."

After a long shower, where I could somehow get my muscles to work again, I left the dressing room and came face to face with another figure. The man has dark skin, brown eyes, cropped and a slight whitened beard, although he didn't look to be that old; if I were to guess I'd say he's in his late forties.

The man looked at me analytically, before frowning. "I am Professor Isiah Wilson; I teach Advanced Battle Strategies and coach this school's battle team."

Battle Teams were the recent addition to the line-up of pokémon events. Due to how difficult; and taxing it was to raise pokémon; most of people who didn't really want to pursue a career into pokémon would only keep one or two pokémon at most. Team Battles pitted two teams of six pokémon trainers; the idea was that instead of having one trainer with six pokémon; the battle would feature teams of six trainers, each with one pokémon. As in regular battles there would be a total of twelve pokémon involved, six for each team, but now there would be twelve trainers featured instead of two. Despite the somewhat slower pace those battles had, they did become interesting as the pokémon taking part would be the absolute best each trainer had to offer and different trainers took different approaches to the battle. It was also a good way for rising star kinds of trainers to show their abilities, hoping for an opportunity at the higher levels or even for sponsorship.

I offered the coach a handshake, but he simply stared at me; the frown still into his face.

"I asked to escort you to the headmaster only to warn you to not try to join the Battle Team. The people of the soccer team may love you, but you aren't going to mess up with the team I built from the ground up. I called some acquaintances in Galar, and they all let me know what the kind of man you are; Peter Axel. You cost your team the championship in Galar due to your stupid actions and greed; I will not let that happen here. Am I clear?" He said in a clear; harsh tone, looking at me as if I was the scum of the earth.

I felt my nails dig so deep into the palms of my hands that they were closer to drawing blood. I clenched my teeth.

"One" breathe in.

"Two" breathe out.

"Three" breathe in.

"Four" breathe out.

"I'll do as you wish." I said between gritted teeth and with a smile as false as a Fake Tears attack.

"Good." He said in a nod, motioning for me to follow him.

I was so angry that I didn't even realize that the two of us reached a large mahogany double door.

"Remember my words; Axel." He said with his ever-present frown, as he left, leaving me alone.

I shook the murderous thoughts of my head before knocking at the door, I had a headmaster to impress.

When I knocked on that mahogany door, I expected lots of things. But I'd be lying to say that I expected to see the Champion of Unova waiting for me. Amongst the major eight League Champions; Alder is the one who has the longest standing tenure. Naysayers and criticists will attribute that he only managed to retain his title for that long due to the lower level of challenge produced by the Vertress Conference as opposing to highly competitive conferences such as the Indigo Plateau or Lily of the Valley Conferences. Despite that one will have to be exceptionally talented to hold the title for forty years.

"Peter Thornham, I assume?" he asked

One thing for certain is that he has an unconventional style. Alder is a very tall man, around 190 centimetres, and that, despite his sixty years of age, had not a single spec of white in his head. His hairstyle, much like the person he is, is eccentric, red and orange threads in an extremely long haircut, that assume the form of a flare in the front and a ponytail in the back. His clothes are more fit for a wanderer than a champion; a white poncho with red and orange details, ripped white pants and a necklace made of six pokéballs connected together by a brown string.

He then gestured to a mahogany chair, signalling for me to sit as he did the same. A sturdy and luxurious table in the middle separated the chairs. Alder then took a look at some files, probably mine, before looking me in the eyes.

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit, yes." I was honest.

"There's no need to be" he said with a reassuring smile "I only want to have a quick conversation with you." He once again glanced at the files. "Now, you must know that there are no right or wrong answers for my questions; I simply will pick your brains a little."

I nodded in understanding, trying to relax a bit in the chair.

"Now, I'd like to start asking why you decided to join the Institute of Unova."

I didn't have to think too much to answer that. "Because this school is the best the continent has to offer; I want what's the best for me, and this school is exactly that."

Alder hummed. "We received your grades from the Royal Academy of Galar." If he saw me flinch slightly, he didn't say out loud. "Do not get me wrong, they are good, but they aren't compatible with the results of the test you took today."

I frowned, releasing a sigh. "I was that bad?" Man, I definitively should've studied.

Alder shook his head. "No, that's quite the opposite. Peter, your grades were off the chats in almost all areas."

I stared dumbfounded at the champion. "So, this means I was accepted?" I asked incredulously.

"Not yet. I'll have the final say on that, now let's roll back to my previous question: what explains the difference of the grades?"

My expression became a bit more serious, the frown returning at full force. "I had a change of mindset."

The man hummed. "Is that change of mindset due to the events that had you expelled from you school in Galar?"

"Yes."

"I've already received the official version from both the Royal Academy of Galar and the Galarian Amateur Trainers Association. I'll now give you a chance to explain things from your own perspective."

Speechless for a few seconds, I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Truth is absolute, yet the recounting of it is subject of the intentions and emotions of the interlocutor."

"That's…"

"Yes, that's a quote from the essay you wrote earlier. Quite an interesting point of view really." Alder noted.

I nodded. "Regarding the reports you've read; my pokémon was indeed under the effect of unlawful performance enhancing drugs. But I was not aware of it."

"The reports say that you admitted feeding your pokémon with it."

"I was not aware that the supplements I've fed were tampered with those substances."

"Yet the reports state that you were seen buying the supplements for your pokémon."

I shook my head. "Those supplements were not originally intended for me. I was running an errand."

"For who?"

I took a deep breath. "Bruce Rose."

"The son of Macro Cosmos's chairman Laurence Rose?"

"Yes."

Alder then glanced back at some of the files. "Here it says that due to the confirmed doping your school's battling team was eliminated from the tournament. Bruce was also in your team; it's far-fetched to think that he would risk eliminating the team by using illegal substances." Unova's Champion concluded with a frown.

I once again shook my head. "Bruce exchanged a championship for two."

"Can you elaborate on that?" Alder questioned, leaning his hands on the table.

"Bruce don't see those competitions as team championships, rather than that, he evaluates then as individual performance. Bruce will not consider himself as a champion if his individual performance was not good; in fact, I would doubt he would even consider himself a champion if he's not the best of the tournament."

"So," Alder further leaned into the table, his purple eyes trained into mine "you're saying that Bruce set you up to take you out of the competition for good?"

"It was one of the two reasons." I confirmed humming.

"The other being?" he inquired further

"Bruce happens to be obsessed with a girl…who happened to be dating me."

Alder nodded. "May I see the pictures?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The pictures. Of the girl."

"People in this school must have a penchant for making strange request." Yet I complied, looking up a picture of Nessa in the internet using my phone, it should not be difficult considering she's one of Galar's brightest young top models.

Alder eagerly took the mobile phone of my hands, and quickly made his thoughts known. "Hot damn! This girl's fine!"

I felt a bit of annoyance at the subject in hand. "She's sixteen."

"Not hot damn!" Alder quickly yelled before letting go of the phone.

I took the phone back and made sure to delete the picture, staring at the man beratingly.

Alder then seemed to recover from the previous exchange. "Those are serious claims you have. Do you have anything to back those up?"

"If I had I wouldn't be here." I said a bit more angrily than I intended.

"One" breathe in.

"Two" breathe out.

"Three" breathe in.

"Four" breathe out.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for." I admitted, focusing my eyes at his. "The only thing that can be used in my defence is that if I were to use illegal substances of this sort I would not do so in that way."

Taking a deep breath, I continued. "For some time, I was adamant that I'd be able to somehow defend myself at the court. Whilst Bruce planned things very well, I think that he forced some things. First is that the illegal 1.7 Carboprotein agent that was present in Thievul's test is somewhat expensive. As you should've read, I always have been a student who relied on scholarships and had no income other than a small allowance; being realistic I wouldn't even have the money to purchase that kind of product."

I closed my eyes, before reopening them with newfound anger. "Second point is a behavioural observation; there's a previous test made on Thievul after a win on early November; during that month I was struggling to adapt and my place in the battling team, alongside my scholarship, was in jeopardy. If I decided to use doping, it would have made more sense to do so when I was in a real chance of losing everything."

"Final point is that if I were to use doping, or break any rule in that case, I would definitively not get caught."

"That's arrogance." Alder said.

I merely smirked. "That's the truth."

"And what you intend to do to prove it?"

"At this point my words alone are unlikely to prove anything, so it's my plan to cause a despair so big in him that he'll see no point in keeping the truth for himself. After that I'll personally exact revenge on him, and all of those who wronged me."

"You plan to do to him the same he did to you?"

"No." My smirk became almost murderous. "I plan to do worse."

The Champion/headmaster got up the table and stared from the windows which overlooked the Relic Castle in the background. "When we received your application the board of directors wanted to turn it away immediately, but Coach Stokes pushed forth, said that you would be a major addition for this school based on your soccer skills alone. I am the first to admit that I judged you, no one wants a criminal in their midst; but you had my curiosity. When you came here, scored one of the highest grades ever recorded in the entrance exams and did so well at your workout that Coach Stokes came himself here to advise me to give you a scholarship; you had my attention. I might as well regret it later, but I'm interested in how things play out. If your justice stands above Galar's. Now, after our talk I've decided upon my verdict, Peter Thornham." He said loudly, turning to me.

I got up, steeling my nerves. "Yes, sir."

"You have my approval; for a full scholarship at the Institute of Unova." He then smiled at me. "Do not make me regret this."

10 days until the deadline

One would think that after completing the objectives I've set thirty-one days ago I'd finally relax. The truth is that I can't. I will only be able to relax when I've achieved my revenge. Until then I'll push forward until I've reached the edge of the world by my two feet; and then I'd jump and drown in the sweet sea of vengeance.

Until now, I've been training at the Pinwheel Forest, but a change of scenarios made itself necessary. The main reason was the presence of Moss Rocks at my previous training spots. Due to his highly unstable DNA, Eevee is capable of evolving into pokémon of different types. But this same trait makes it extremely difficult to plan its evolution; the more time Eevee spent near these rocks, more of his DNA would be propense to mutate into Leafeon upon evolution. In order to remediate that, Eevee's new training regime focuses on nigh time activities, so his genes would enter in contact with the moonlight, thus encouraging an evolution into Umbreon. The morning jogs we took were replace by night ones and spars against grass types in Pinwheel Forest were replaced by fights under the moonlight against some of the dark types present in Route 4; such as Sandile and Scraggy.

I've been coming here almost every day of the last week, the only exception being two days in which I had a scheduled session with Lilith. As an attempt to better prepare for the future I also spent a great deal of my time researching Umbreon, how would I use it in battles and the best way possible to transition from battle styles seamlessly. The answer was not an easy one. Upon transforming Eevee will lose a lot of his explosiveness, making him feel slower. Evolved pokémon becoming weaker in certain stats are an extremely rare occurrence; Eevee itself won't become slower per se; but the tiny gain of speed will not counter the weight gain. As I said, he'll feel slower. My training regime was designed to counter this, make him quicker, so he would still be able to dodge attacks consistently after evolution.

His entire battling style had to change however. Due to his moveset I'd often focus for a gun and run style; getting close with Quick Attack and the manoeuvre around the opponent to deal hard blows with either Iron Tail and Bite, before scattering away from harm. Shadow Ball would be the trick card in this set as it would catch opponents out of guard with a focused special attack. As Umbreon however I knew I will not be able to get around opponents like that; so physical attacks would be rendered as almost useless. Therefore, the focus will be on special attacks, thankfully Eevee knew Shadow Ball as an egg move, otherwise things would get even trickier. As if to 'compensate' for the loss of his entire physical moveset Umbreon would become bulkier and much more resistant, a thing I desperately needed; as right now landing two or three good hits on Eevee would knock him out.

Right now, I was still making the adjustments necessary, and it's harder than I thought it to be. The fluid speedster gun and run tactics I grew to love had to be replaced by what I'd call the Rocky Balboa style, which means get the shit beaten out of you for most of the fight only to connect some well-placed powerful strikes and barely escape with a win. I disliked it, and Eevee, who took the actual beating disliked it even more, but it was the best way I thought up of increasing resistance and endurance even before the evolution.

My mobile phone marked exactly eleven pm, we still had time for another battle. I glanced around the emptiness of Route Four. I heard the place's history from my father; a few years ago, the Unovan government took a special interest in this area due to its status as a gateway between Castelia City and Nimbasa City, the largest and second largest cities in the continent. The plan was to devise a partnership with private enterprises and build a highly developed residential complex, which would reduce the overpopulation problem that had been plaguing the biggest cities in Unova. It came to naught when ancient ruins were discovered; archaeologists got involved and managed to get an embargo on the construction. Due to how inefficiently the judicial system worked, even today there's no clear definition of a winner. The construction process was halted, investors lost their money and the archaeologist were unable to access the excavation sites as they were still into the hands of contractors.

The excavation area consisted of some buildings built in a primitive style, marked by predominance of square shapes and a light brown type of brick, presumedly crafted with the gritty soil of the Relic Desert. Besides the still standing houses there were still some remnants of the fallen buildings. The crescent moon in the sky provided even less light than the normal and it was hard to see much further ahead.

As I was about to turn around and leave, due to the little success I've had in finding an opponent, I saw something obstruct the moon even further. I had to hold back a gasp as the figure, a pokémon landed very next to me.

The pokémon, a bird was slightly smaller than me, but looked extremely strong. Its belly is covered by navy blue plumes; whilst the ones covering its back are dark red. Its head was also covered in plumes which resembled a war bonnet. Braviary was fucking majestic.

"If I manage to get him on my team…" I thought, my mind going wild with the possibilities.

There's a fine line between bravery and foolishness; between geniality and insanity. But in those kinds of gambles that balance could be changed. I am just one man; trying to take down an entire league, a highly prestigious school and the biggest conglomerate in Galar, which possessed almost unlimited financial resources; the defeat is a certainty.

Well, this just meant that I had nothing to lose.

"Braviary!" I called out, taking Eevee's pokéball from my belt. If I'm not mistake, one of Braviary's traits was his immeasurable bravery; if I am to capture him, I'll have to display bravery on my own.

The large flying type turned out to me in annoyance.

"I challenge you to a battle."

I barely had time to call Eevee and Braviary let out a cry, his beak glowing white, aiming a Peck at Eevee.

"Quick Attack to dodge." I commanded, already feeling that Braviary's speed will make this the hardest battle I ever had.

Eevee barely got out of the way, but Braviary was already looping back, charging fast into another Peck attack.

At this moment I knew I wouldn't be able to evade properly. So, it was time to parry.

"Eevee, block the attack with Iron Tail."

As the attacks collided, I held a breath, fearing that despite that despite the type resistance, Eevee's parry would be overpowered. Yet Eevee let out a might cry and sent Braviary tumbling down into the sands.

Sensing an opportunity, I quickly called out the next move. "Eevee, use Quick Attack; do not let him recover." Attacking a downed pokémon would often be seen as uncourteous, even dishonourable move in pokémon battles; but this was not a battle, it was a fight. And as the saying goes, all fair in love and war.

Before the attack could connect though, Braviary opened his eyes and strongly flapped his wings, raising a curtain of sand and taking flight. Eevee was unable to stop his attack and ended up running through the sand cloud. It cried in anger as the sand entered his eyes, compromising his vision.

What drew my attention however was the pokémon high up in the sky, his expression angry, its wings glowing white and quickly approaching.

"Eevee! Step aside." I let out a sigh of relief as Braviary's left wing barely missed my pokémon. My relief was cut abruptly by Eevee's cry of pain. Me and Eevee both were expecting for Braviary to loop and regain altitude, but instead it did a sharp turn and connected a direct hit using his other wing.

"Shit! He's coming again." Braviary's assault grew relentless and once again it came accelerating downward, this time his beak slightly glowing white. "It's a Peck attack again. Eevee; block it with Iron Tail."

This time it looked that Eevee would soon come out on top, instead we received another nasty surprise, when Braviary extended its wings, hitting Eevee with a backslap. Distracted by the unexpected hit; Eevee cancelled the Iron Tail attack, giving Braviary yet another opening. As the avian pokémon connected strikes with its beak, wings and claws I soon realized my mistake. That was never a Peck, it was a Fury Attack.

Eevee looked to be extremely bruised and I knew we would lose if we received more damage. We were extremely outmatched; and I knew that our backs were against the wall. I desperately needed more time, but as Braviary took another dive towards us I realized that we were not having any of it. Suddenly an idea came into my mind.

"Eevee, use Sand Attack to raise a sand cloud. After that bury yourself into the sand."

Obedience instilled on Eevee ever since we began our work paid off, and the normal type pokémon executed the shady moves without question, kicking its diminutive legs to raise a cloud of sand and then quietly buried himself, waiting for further commands.

"Braviary is stronger, more resistant and faster than Eevee." I analysed the field, drilling my mind for a battle changing strategy. I looked at Braviary who restlessly seemed to be looking for Eevee. "We truly lucked out in this one; Eevee's fur is almost the same tone as the sand darkened by the night. If we were doing this during daytime such strategy would be impossible due to the temperature of the sand and the sunlight."

Advantage in combat could be gained by several means. Braviary trumps us in raw strength, moveset, speed, resistance and size. What is left to me is to devise a strategy using the other aspects.

Braviary would not acknowledge a stalemate by any means, his pride would not let him. But, as a prideful person myself I know how this quickly turn into arrogance; and how arrogance turns into mistakes.

The terrain was an asset both Eevee and Braviary exploited. The flying type's wing sweep to create a sand cloud was what inspired me to order Eevee to do the same on the last move. I glanced around, the open terrain would favour Braviary; yet the crumbled houses could limit its movement and most importantly it could be advantageous for Eevee's small size.

I glanced at the sand, Braviary and then a small crumbling house; I can make this work.

"Eevee; use Shadow Ball at the ground and manoeuvre towards the crumbling building at the east."

The evolution pokémon's special attack was unable to damage Braviary directly due to the bird's normal typing, but it can still explode at the ground. Even better, since Eevee was also a normal type, it couldn't be damaged by residual damage it made, even when fired from under the sand; keeping its cover. Sand was hurled above by the blast. A quick succession of those attacks confused Braviary, as it only saw those clouds coming from a previous Sand Attack. The prideful let the arrogance control him and the decided to fly into the clouds in an attempt to locate Eevee.

From there it became a game of patience; Eevee would fire at different patches of sand, and Braviary would spend its energy flying frantically through the clouds. But then the opening came, Eevee was already near the house when an unsuspecting Braviary flew above him.

"Leap and mount in its back."

A brown blur leapt forward and into the valiant's pokémon back. As the eagle flailed around in an attempt to shake Eevee off, I continued with the strategy. "Eevee, use Bite to hang on one of its wings."

My pokémon managed to take a bite at the left wing and now was effectively attached to the valiant pokémon. Braviary still kept struggling, but to no avail, and now losing balance and having his flight capabilities seriously affected.

"Keep the pressure using Double Kick."

Since Eevee was still hanging at Braviary's wings I had to be innovative; Double Kick wasn't a move we used that much; but now it worked like a charm. Eevee's legs repeatedly kicked Braviary's head and underside.

It was bound to happen, and I planned for it to happen: Braviary's soon lost control and headed towards one of the ruined buildings. "Eevee, let go off him and jump towards me."

I positioned myself just in time to catch the brown furred missile. I was taking no chances of having Eevee injured, even though the sand might have cushioned the fall. "You did an exceptional job today." I said patting Eevee's head, who cooed in response.

We looked up just in time to see Braviary crashing into a crumbled wall, taking the whole building down, with some bricks falling directly upon him; effectively restraining him.

I recalled Eevee onto his pokéball, before heading towards where Braviary was half buried, only his head peeking out. Kneeling in front of him was greeted by pure defiance in his eyes. I smirked, unwillingness to admit defeat is considered to be a flaw by many; not for me though.

I took one of the 'retail' pokéballs I obtained at the Underworld, Braviary still glaring at me. My green eyes met his dark grey ones, both unrelenting.

"I promise to safeguard your freedom. I promise to treat you well. I promise that this will be the last time you'll ever taste defeat."

Rather than throwing the pokéball at him, I've decided to simply touch it against his forehead.

He was sucked into the capsule.

The ball shook once.

The ball shook twice.

The ball shook thrice.

I held my breath.

The ball shook for the last time, small star shaped sparks marking the successful capture.

"Welcome to the team." I said in whisper as I took the pokéball.

The addition of Braviary to the team opened lots of possibilities, I will probably have to go back into the drawing board to redesign some plans; but it was ultimately worth it.

I then glanced around; looking at what was left of the building Braviary crashed into.

But for now, it's time to run back home; otherwise I might be arrested for depredation of historical heritage.

Today's update marks one week of the story being posted. So, I'll use this section as a place of self-criticism. According to the traffic graph this story had 150 views; with 15 followers, 11 favorites and 2 reviews. Being honest this is less than I hoped for; the reviews particularly are extremely below what I envisioned at this point.

I always wanted to do something different. I did something different when I decided to use a OC instead of the usual Ash Ketchum. I did the different when deciding to write an antihero/antivillain instead of the usual hero. If I were settling for follow/favs and reviews I would already have given up on this; I won't do it because I have faith in this work and most importantly, I have faith in myself, and my abilities to write a great story.

I won't say that those numbers don't matter to me, they do, a lot. But I won't let them drag me down. It's the price for attempting something new, I guess.