Two Days Later
The Northern Avalon Sea
Only those that were a native Avalon understood just how cold the Northern part of the region could get.
Oh, the Avalon winters were well known to the world. Thick snows that nearly rivaled the worst Sinnoh and Unova could get commonly came down upon the lands, locking up routes so that travel was nearly impossible. It was a heavy snow too, that weighed down on all it fell upon like wet wool blankets. Families would hurry to reinforce roofs and Pokémon were kept in barns if not their balls when the first flakes began to fall, for none wanted to be caught in an ice maelstrom. When it really came down it could sap a grown man's strength and leave him gasping and panting as if he'd fought through what felt like a solid curtain of ice. Warnings were routinely posted at trail markers whenever a storm was predicted to get bad but every season there was one foreigner who thought they knew snow and ended up needing to be rescued; the lucky ones were. After the snow subsided things were a bit different, as the frigid winds would harden the drifts so that they were nearly as solid as steel and trainers could walk upon new routes, accessing caves and high up trees that would have been impossible to get to on foot. But few took that opportunity as the cold was just so bitter that it left all trembling in front of fires, hoping to remember what it was like to be warm. There were even some ice types that would look upon an Avalon frost and decide it wasn't for them.
The winters were a true hell but that didn't mean the summers were nice and balmy. In the south of Avalon they were pleasant enough, though people used to the desert heats many regions had or the warmth of a Hoenn spring day would shiver during the hottest of July days. The sun rarely grew in strength and it took a hardy grass type to live even on Avalon's southern shore. Folks would see a day where they could go in short sleeves from dusk till dawn as the peak of summer delight. But in the north though? While the sun would shine and the snows would melt at times reminders of the cold would return even during the long days of summer... or perhaps better stated 'the nights of summer'. Great chunks of ice would break off from the frozen sheets in the far north and slowly bob and float down, caught on ocean currents that brought them to Avalon's rocky northern shore. Some sailors even made a living chasing down the small icebergs, hauling them aboard their ships and cleaning them off before sending them to refineries that would produce Never-Melt Ice and the many different products that could be created from them. It was thus not a body of water one would want to take a dip in, for if the cold didn't leech away your strength the cold-loving Water types that made the northern Avalon Sea their home would be happy to do so.
The men and women that currently stood in the landing boats swiftly cutting through the dark waters had known that it would be cold but also knew that it was no use to complain about it. Nor would it have done any good to whimper or whine as the choppy surf batted them about. None of them dared show any signs of sea sickness. The Nocturne Grunts had quickly learned that showing that kind of weakness would earn the only medicine Fenrir Greyback was interested in giving them: saltwater. Lots of it. Namely from being tied to an anchor and thrown off the boat.
No one had complained after his first prescription about any tummy rumbles.
The four Higgins Landing Crafts, hold-overs from the last Great War when Avalonian and Unovan soldiers had stormed the beaches of Cyllage, cut quietly through the water, their dark hulls joining with the moonless night and dark ocean to make them almost invisible as they continued on to their destination. The Grunts had been allowed to sit for most of the journey, getting a bit of shuteye even as the wind whipped over their heads and the sea pitched them back and forth, but now as they neared the end of their journey they had been commanded by the Nocturne Executives to stand up and be alert and ready.
They knew that this was going to be something major. Not just the fact that for many it was their first major battle since joining with Team Nocturne. Not just the fact that it was the first major offensive said Team had taken since their reformation at the Grand Trainer Tournament, when their Lord had been forced to retreat (not that any dared whisper that aloud) due to the combined strength of Johto and Kalos officers. No, it was that they had four high ranking Executives leading the charge this night.
Fenrir Greyback, the paid mercenary who had death sentences in every region and who fought not for glory or for the cause but because Voldemort was willing to pay him to kill for him. Regulus Black, the man that had led their leader to the Potters and the exact opposite of Greyback: a fanatic who believed only in the cause and wouldn't stand for anyone talking ill of his master. Lucius Malfoy, the money man who financed most of Nocturne's work and who, after years of being the man in the back room, found himself once more taking command in the field. Walden Macnair, the Elite 4's elite tracker by day and Nocturne Butcher at night. They were some of the most deadly trainers from the last war (save for Greyback but he'd earned his place among their ranks) and having all four of them together spoke of death and destruction.
"Remember," Lucius hissed to the men in his boat, the earpieces all the Grunts wore allowing those in the other landing crafts to hear him as if he were standing right next to them, "we do this quick and with surgical precision. We're counting on security to be startled by such a brazen attack but they won't be idle for long. If you think they will all cower to you just because of your masks then throw yourself into the sea now and save me the trouble. They will fight back hard because they'll know their lives depend on it. We need to burst in, get the targets, and then get back to the boats." Lucius jabbed a finger at the Grunts under his command. "We won't wait for you if you get in a scrape. You follow the plan or you're left behind..." each grunt tensed as they felt the Yamasks they had with them wrap around their throats, the warning clear. Team Nocturne didn't leave behind hostages that might speak of secrets left only for select ears.
"Everyone get ready," Regulus said as the boats began to slow. The Grunts tensed and fingered their Pokéballs, adjusting the hoods of their robes and their masks so that nothing of their features could be seen. They were cloaked like an army of death and soon would either earn the right to make that metaphor true or join the true one. With a sudden jerk the boats stopped and the landing platform slammed down, revealing Balin's Rest, the great stone tower prison of Avalon.
The four Executives held little hope that half of the Grunts would survive what was about to happen. These were the untested trainers, the ones who'd signed up with chips on their shoulders thinking that they'd be Admins within days, leading the grand march towards a new world. Most of them would only earn shallow graves. But the cost would be well worth the reward that awaited them.
"Death," Regulus chanted and the Grunts quickly took up the call.
"Death! Death! Death! Death!"
The guards patrolling the beaches were taken by complete surprise. They patrolled not out of a sense of duty but because it was required of them. They never expected anything to truly happen and thus their focus wasn't on the dangerous that might lurk in the shadows and surf and instead of what they wanted to do on their days off and what was waiting for them in the break room. Peace had made them lazy and blind. They didn't even use strong Pokémon, if they had them out at all. A Herdier here, a Swellow there. No Absols to warn of disaster, no Ninetails to sense an approach, and no Arcanines to unleash quick counter assaults. They were ill prepared and Team Nocturne looked to take advantage. For a few glorious moments carnage was the song that was sung that night and Team Nocturne was the choir. Their Pokémon utterly destroyed all those in their wake, taking out aurors and guards before they could even unclip their Pokéballs or shout out a command. Blood fell upon the rocky shore and for a brief moment each Grunt thought themselves as invincible as their Lord and Master, tearing through all resistance.
But all good things had to end and soon the men and women that protected the prison were moving to defend and the Grunts found their push met with one of equal force. They'd made a good first showing but while discipline had become lax there were still some in the prison that remembered how to fight and thus shook off the rust that had gathered and moved to become once more machines of battle and death. Machokes, Growlithes, Pigeottos, the odd Gasty, and even a Raichu soon were on the beach and the lopsided bloodbath became much more balanced... though the blood remained, just now for both sides. The dying moans of Avalon's brave protectors were soon joined by the screams of Nocturne Grunts as their bright careers were destroyed with a gut of fire or a blast of razor sharp wind. It was not uncommon for a Grunt to trip over one of his comrade's innards and end up dying lying on top of a auror's corpse.
Lucius and Regulus ducked and weaved through the battlefield, ignoring the cries of pain and the pleas for their help. The grunts weren't what concerned them and even if they had wanted to help knowing what would await them should they fail their Master led them onward towards their goal. They made their way towards the wall, leaving Greyback and Macnair to continue keeping their men fighting. The two were savages and knew it and were all too happy to slaughter any Avalon defender that got in their way... and make an example out of any Grunts that decided to reveal themselves cowards. The grunts didn't realize that they were a distraction, bait sent to draw a hungry Mightyena from her den so a poacher might claim her pups. Their duty was to battle and make such a noise that the tower would empty of most reinforcements. They would play their part or die. Sometimes both.
That left the younger sons of the houses of Black and Malfoy to their appointed task. Regulus unclipped his Pokéball and sent out an Excadrill who tore through the stone wall like it was tissue paper. He eventually hit the steel that reinforced the wall but Regulus wasn't concerned, having his Pokémon carve away a large hollow that perfectly fit the Electrode Lucius released. The Head of House Malfoy then summoned his Beheeyem, commanding it to shield the blast area. The alien Pokémon did so with a long drone, thrusting out his arms. The command of Explosion was given and with a great boom the hollow turned into a giant hole right in the middle of the Tower's main wall, through which the two Execs easily slid inside, the Electrode tossed a revive and commanded to stand guard.
Alarms were going off like mad and prison guards were rushing about but Lucius and Regulus made quick work of them. Avalon it seemed had learned nothing from its first year of the first war against Voldemort, when his Team had waged the battles were far too quick and easy, and once more they tore through the ranks of guards. Regulus' Manetric easily ripped through his foes while Beheeyem shredded the minds of those that might have realizes that Lucius Malfoy was the one wearing the mask and cloak of a Nocturne Executive. They left behind bodies (if they were lucky) or babbling fools who would spend the rest of their days in a padded cell unable to remember their names or their children's faces (if they were unfortunate). As the two raced through the hallways and past the rows of cells prisoners called out to them, hoping that they were there to save them, but the two paid little heed as their targets were in the deepest part of the tower, leaving the alarms behind and entering a section of the prison where only an occasional flickering light lit their way. They could hear the moans of the prisoners that lived their entire lives in the dark, their punishment for their heinous crimes, but still Lucius and Regulus pushed on-
"STOP!" One guard shouted, stepping forward with a Hypno, a flashlight shining at the two Nocturne Execs, causing Regulus and Lucius to throw up their arms to shield their eyes. "Recall your Pokémon and put hands where I can seem them!"
"Of course," Lucius purred as he recalled Beheeyem, Regulus, after a moment, copying him. The guard never noticed Luicus drop a second Luxury Ball, letting it quietly roll away into the darkness with a bump of his heel, nor did he hear the soft tick of a time-delayed release trigger activate. "Whatever you say, officer."
The guard nodded and reached for his Walkie. "Hypno, put them to sleep while I call this in-"
'Oh, I don't think he'll be doing that,' Dark energy shot out of inky blackness, grabbing the Hypno and yanking him into the shadows. There was a cry followed by a hideous crunching noise... then silence. After a moment the Hypno's focus rolled out of the inky blackness, bumping into the guard's foot.
"What... what was that?!" the guard shouted, eyes wide and voice trembling with fear.
'Why, just me, officer?' the voice murmured in his head. 'Come now... why so scared? What is there to fear in the dark? Didn't mummy tell you that there is nothing to be afraid of' Lucius remained still even as the sounds of movement, like spatula rubbing against a wet bowl, filled the air. 'Of course… mummy isn't here now, is she? She's far, far away and baby is all alone, trembling in the dark. And mummy has been wrong about things before… so maybe you should begin fearing the shadows… and what lurks inside.'
The guard backed away from Lucius and Regulus, jaw working as he swung his light about. Occasionally he would catch of glimpse of... something... in the beam but it would be gone before he could figure out what it was. He forgot all about the Nocturne Execs and instead focused on finding the dark voice that continued to taunt him.
"Where are you?" he shouted finally, his fear getting the better of him. "Where are you?" He took another step only to strike something that was oddly squishy, like a liquid-filled balloon. He slowly turned, his light revealed the sinister eyes of Lucius' Malamar, which was currently hanging upside down from the ceiling.
'Here,' Malamar told him before opening his beak up impossibly wide and snapping it over the guard's head. The man let out a muffled scream, his arms flailing as the flashlight fell from his hands and Malamar wrapped his tendrils around him, a viscous goo dripping from his maw as he locked onto the guard, the fluid burning the ground where it dropped. The man thrashed more wildly, letting out a muffled scream only heard from tortured animals, only to suddenly freeze before going lax, Malamar's jaw able to close a bit more before pulling him up onto the ceiling and out of view of Regulus and Lucius. Though out of sight the two could hear a sucking, slurping noise and the dripping of liquid.
"Good," Lucius said after a few moments, returning his Pokémon and picking up the flashlight and the guard's fallen set of keys, shaking the blood from them as he carefully avoided the digestive acid that burned the concrete . "Come on." Regulus, with a grin, merely nodded and followed after him.
Finally, in the bottom of the Tower's lowest level, where men and women were shoved so that they might be forgotten by time, Lucius and Regulus looked at the cells of the Nocturne Agents that had been removed from Sevii after the Kenway brothers had taken it over. Avalon had thought itself so clever, removing pieces from the board that the Sons of Johto might use against them, never realizing that the Sons were more likely to murder those that now sat in the cells than have them join them. Sirius had allowed it, as he'd wanted nothing to do with the Nocturne Agents and fighting the order would have risked revealing who he was. And Fudge had gone along with it because Lucius had whispered in his ear and what Lucius said the government did. It was with particularly vicious smile that Regulus opened one cell, using the keys from the dead guard, and looked at the figure within.
Where once she had been a great beauty her time in the dark and dank cell had left her much like the Ghost Pokémon she so loved to used. Her skin was the color of bones and her eyes as black as the walls of her cell. Her hair was a knotted spider's web and her clothing hung from her body like tattered curtains in an abandoned house. Beautiful curves that would make a man weep and muscles that ensured they did just that had wasted away, leaving skin and bones, but only a fool would think the woman before them was helpless.
For the spark of determination and mad love for violence still shone in her eyes.
"Hello Cousin," Regulus said with a grin, opening his robe and allowing the Misdreavus that had been tucked away in the folds of his robe to float out. The ghostly Pokémon let out a cry of joy and darted into the cell, the prisoner reaching out with long thin fingers and stroking her cheek with an odd tenderness "Feel like having some fun?"
Bellatrix Lestrange smiled before she and Misdreavus merged, the magnus Mismagius letting out a cackle as she used her power to unlock every cell in the tower.
The screams of guards dying joined with her laughter.