When Walden Macnair had been 13 years old he had been sent to a psychiatrist.

This of course wasn't exactly true. He wasn't so much sent as he was forced, a requirement by the Aurors after he'd been caught singling out and attacking young children in his neighborhood. His father had claimed that Walden had been pressured into attacking the children by his friends ('a bad sort' his father had said as he'd happily thrown them under the bus) and the judge had agreed to not send him to a reform school so long as he had a psych evaluation.

The shrink had been an annoying little man with dark green hair and a neatly trimmed little beard. He'd been overly fond of going 'hmmm' and 'hurrrr' as Walden answered the inane and moronic questions that he asked. He'd worn an old fashion suit with a vest and a bowtie and he'd always sit with one leg crossed over the other, his shiny little shoes gleaming in the florescent lights of his office. The whole place had stunk of polish and dust and it had reminded young Walden of Hogwart's stuffy library. The shrink had told him to lie down on his couch and while normally that would have been an opportunity to take a nap Walden had found no such peace as the cushions had been scratchy things made of a ropey, bumpy fabric that had absolutely no give. He'd then been expected to answer the man's questions, not of which made a lick of sense to him.

'If you could go on vacation anywhere, where would you go?'

'You are throwing a dinner party and can invite 3 people, living or dead. Who do you select?'

'Describe the best meal you ever had.'

'You've been caught in a rainstorm... tell me what it feels like.'

'What is your favorite song? What do you see when it plays?'

He'd answered every one though honestly he couldn't remember what he'd said. It didn't matter in the slightest to him other than it had all seemed like a waste of time. But the doctor had 'hmmmed' and 'hurred' and finally brought Walden's parents in and given them his professional opinion.

Walden was a psychopath.

He lacked any sense of guilt or remorse for his actions. He understood that what he did was wrong but he didn't care that it was wrong in the slightest. He had no empathy for his victims nor anyone around him. He was unable to form deep emotional attachments and those he did befriend he did so purely because they made him feel good about himself and not because he actually cared about them. He was a chronic liar who would tell people what he believed they wanted to hear yet it was always filtered through his own belief of what he himself would want to hear because he just wasn't able to comprehend that there existed anyone in the world who thought differently from him. He would manipulate those around him and only showed loyalty to those that fed his own desires, no matter how vile or risky they might have been; that loyalty would die the moment he no longer had use for the person or that they demanded he actually show a lick of loyalty. In short, he was a danger to all around him and it had been the shrink's professional opinion that Walden be locked away for all the rest of his life.

Walden's father had nodded, thanked the doctor, and then complained that the man was an absolute quack the entire way back home. Walden's mother had merely said that the shrink had clearly been told to lie about her son because there was simply no way a child of her's couldn't be anything but good. No... it was everyone else, from the school to the other children to the aurors, who were the problem. Not her boy. Never him.

Walden didn't give a shit.

All he had honestly cared about was annoying jackasses boring him with their needless dreck. Too many people whimpered and whined about morals and the rule of law. A more philosophical man would have tried to reason out how such things were merely human constructs or that they were tethers to keep a man from being in touch with their true inner self. That the world was all about repressing the real man and crafting them into something else, something the masses could stomach. But Walden wasn't a philosophical man. He was just someone that liked to do whatever he wanted.

Lucius Malfoy had once commented dryly that Walden would have seen Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde as tragedy for far different reasons than most. Walden hadn't ever considered even looking up the summary of the book, let alone reading it.

His adult life had been dedicated to being able to do what he wanted with as little interference from the meddling busybodies as possible. As he trudged through the thick woods of Pellinore towards the cabin he called home, a heavy diamond-edge axe slung over his shoulder and his Scizor buzzing beside him, he scoffed as he realized that in order to avoid the busybodies he'd been forced to cozy up to them. There were laws about nearly everything Walden found fun but the Ministry had rather convenient ways of sidestepping such things. It was against the law to steal… but imminent domain and search and seizure were perfectly fine. Practical even. Aren't supposed to beat people up… but if they were breaking a law you created then you could hit them as much as you wanted. Kill a Pokémon and you were looking at life in prison.

But put down a 'dangerous' Pokémon because the Minister decided that they couldn't be left alive? You weren't a murderer then, you were Avalon's Official Pokémon Enforcement Officer. Or unofficial a Pokémon Executioner.

He swung his axe out so he could look over the blade, moving his finger along the edge and carefully scratching at a spot of blood upon it. He and Scizor had taken care of a Mr. Mime that had been used by a rapist to hold down those he got his rocks off with. Personally Walden hadn't cared all that much what the man did but it had been ruled by that stuck up bitch Bones that the Mime was beyond rehabilitation and thus it fell to Walden to deal with him permanently. His Scizor's claws had been specially trained and adapted to crush even Ultra Balls, which was useful when a Pokémon feared for its life and tried to hide in its ball, and his axe was designed to cut even through a Steelix's skin. That Mime had tried to stop him, flung out his hands and tried to create a barrier but the Ministry was long used to dealing with such things and he had weapons for every type of Pokémon there was. The beauty on his shoulder, made from the remains of a Bisharp, was the perfect Psychic/Fairy killer and he'd enjoyed the spray of blood that had come with his first swing and the look of shock on the Mr. Mime's face when his barrier had shattered… and he'd really enjoyed finally getting the normally silent Pokémon to scream out "mime!". So what if his strike had been off and he had been forced to chop into the Pokémon half a dozen times before it was put down? Accidents happened…

Still, it hadn't been enough and already Walden was feeling the pleasant buzz that came from ending a life fading away and leaving him cold once more. He reached down and cupped his crotch, adjusting his junk slightly before continuing on. 'Need to find something… something big that can take what I dish out. Something that doesn't give up so quick. That will let me get a bit of joy out of-'

His thoughts instantly stopped even as he continued walking. He couldn't afford to stumble or stop short. That would give up the knowledge that he knew…

That he knew he was being watched.

'No, not watched,' he thought has looked glanced to his left and caught his Scizor's eye, the Pokémon blinking once. People always assumed what gave away a predator was a snapping twig or a harsh breath, but that wasn't the case. That was shit from the movies written by lazy writers who had never stalked through the forest. No, what revealed that something big and dangerous was around was a lack of sound. The flying types would stop chirping, the bug types would stop their whining calls, and what nocturnal Pokémon were moving about would freeze up and tense, daring not to make a sound. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that the forest had gone silent because he'd shown up; he'd lived in his cabin for years and the animals that also called the area home had grown used to him, just another creature seeking to live his life. They wouldn't run to him wanting to be caught, as they knew that doing that would make them a target for his entertainment. Hell, his Scizor wasn't loyal in the slightest and only didn't kill him because it knew that the fight would be just as costly for it as it would be for him… and it was just as bloodthirsty as Walden and knew the man would provide it with blood.

No, something else had come to the forest and made the wild life flee. Something dangerous. Something deadly.

Something that was hunting him.

Reaching into the worn and patched long leather coat he wore Walden pulled out a familiar red and while ball, one that everyone in the world would recognize as a standard Pokeball. The only difference, which most wouldn't have paid any mind to, was a small indent on the side, no bigger than his fingerprint… which he carefully ran his thumb along. Gripping the ball he casually brought it out before glancing at Scizor. "I think we might be adding to our team. Let's see if we can catch it first before a battle, okay?" He whipped around and threw the ball, no different than any other trainer who wanted to try and catch a Pokémon without a fight. He knew that whoever was following him would allow the ball to fly their way, perhaps even move to knock it aside so he'd go to investigate.

Of course that would only work if he threw an actual Pokeball and not a firebomb disguised as a Pokeball.

There is a satisfying blast of heat as the ball turned into a massive orb of flames that vaporizes everything it touched while setting off little separate fires all around it. The only thing that was missing was the screams and howls of pain that usually came when something got caught in one of his bomb's blast radius. Sometimes he liked to leave his firebombs out for trainers stupid enough to go stomping about his backyard and their howls of pain always made him grin.

Instead he heard the haunting sound of laughter and movement to his right; whipping around all he saw were branches twitching as something moved within the darkness. Grabbing two more balls he tossed one out where he figured his stalker would be and then several yards ahead of that, hoping to drive them right into the explosion. But once more all he destroyed was underbrush.

There was laughter too but that came now behind him and when he turned he saw a figure leap from a tree branch back into the darkness.

Walden began to edge his way closer to his cabin, knowing that it was close and that if he could get there he'd be fighting on familiar ground. Be able to grab his guns, restock on firebombs, activate some traps he had about. Nodding to his Scizor the bug type fired off several Cut attacks to bring several ancient oak trees slamming down through the forest, Walden picking up his pace as he moved forward. Tossing the last few of his fire bombs behind him he didn't glance back as the fires blasted out as he hurried forward, easily leaping over fallen branches and whistling for Scizor to follow. He hadn't heard any screams but he hoped that at the very least he'd slowed them-

A whistling sound, almost cartoonish in nature, was his only warning before a massive burning tree trunk slammed down in front of him. He wasn't able to stop fully in time and thrust out his hands, howling in pain as he drove his fingers into the blazing wood, the nerves in his hands screaming even as he pulled his burned hands from the flames. He tried to flex his fingers and grimaced at the horrid sensation but what had him scowl all the more was the sounds of laughter that surrounded him.

"X-Scissor!" he roared. Lashing out with both claws the Scizor began to tear apart the forest, felling trees and filling the air with sounds of bark rupturing and trunks slamming down into the ground. Walden hefted his axe, fighting against the pain as the handle aggravated the burns on his palms, but he still stepped forward and glared into the darkness. "Show yourself, cowards! I'm not afraid of you! Come out so I can separate your head from your damn neck!"

"This is the law of the jungle," a woman said to his right, Walden turning only to curse as a knife flashed out of the shadows and drove itself into his shoulder, making him stumble back as cold steel mingled with warm blood. "As old and as true as the sky. The wolf that shall keep it may prosper." Walden took a step toward, struggling to hold his axe with one hand while using the other to fumble about to yank the blade from his flesh.

"But the wolf that shall break it…" a second woman said from behind him, Walden not able to turn in time before a blast of pink energy struck him in the small of his bank and sent him face first into the ground, "must die."

Walden began to crawl forward, needing to get to his cabin and his weapons. The bitches that were stalking him might have thought they had the upper hand but he wanted to see what they would do when he had his shotgun in his hand and they had lead in their bellies.

A third voice joined in on their little poetry slam, younger than the other two. "Like the creeper that girdles the tree trunk… the law runneth forward and back."

Walden, seeing his cabin up ahead, risked a glance behind him and scowled. 'Of course it would be them!' he mentally cursed. The blonde and the dark haired one he quickly recognized: Lucius' supposed sister and her Kalosian wife. The third, the younger of the two, was harder to place but he finally remembered that the couple's daughter had been a part of the Tournament along with the Potter brat. He couldn't remember what the bitch's name was but honestly he didn't care; it didn't matter if her name was Billy Bob she'd scream dying all the same. Sneering that it was a trio of foreign women that had injured him Walden tossed the dagger they'd throw into his shoulder at the youngest only for one of her mothers to catch it in the air and twirl it before placing it in a sheathe on her hip.

"For the strength of the pack," the three intoned as they got closer to him, matching him step for step, "is the wolf. And the strength of the wolf-"

Walden turned to make a dash for his cabin only for the entire structure to explode in a blaze of hellfire. He was sent flying back, slamming into the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He heard his Scizor crying out in pain and when he turned his head he saw the metal bug thrashing about, claws rubbing his chest as burning wooden shrapnel struck his metal hide and burned away at it. Walden eased himself up, rubbing the back of his head, only to glower in rage as he saw the new arrival walking through the flame, his long coat flickering in the heated air, hood hiding most of his face.

"-is the pack," the newcomer intoned.

"Kenway," Walden hissed as Cynthia, Diantha, and the girl ('Fleur… that's her name') moved so that the four of them were encircling him. "The Butcher of Botanical Bay."

"Butcher?" Kenway asked, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. "A funny title to try and mock me with, considering whose speaking it."

Walden spat out a wad of bloody spit at Kenway's feet. "We're both killers, Kenway… I just don't pretend I'm something I'm not." He nodded towards the youngest of the four. "Does she know just how many you've killed? Does she know that you enjoyed it?" That made Kenway paused and Walden scoffed in disgust. "Pathetic. Coward."

"You think we are the same?" Kenway asked. "I've killed to protect others and for vengeance. Hell, I've killed out of rage… I admit it. But you can't even say that, can you MacNair? You've killed just to kill. Because that is all you have in your empty, pathetic life. I'm an attack dog… your just rabid and feral."

"Are you going to torture me by yammering?" Walden asked, slowly standing up. He glanced at the women before returning his attention to the Johtoian. "Let me guess… you want me to squeal on Lord Voldemort? Maybe tell you where he is hiding? I heard you'd decided to begin visiting us, you and yoru Pack. Got Sinclair last three weeks back, right? You don't need to torture me… I'll gladly take you four to him. I'll enjoy listening to you scream while we pass around the little bitch among the grunts."

"As tempting as your offer is it isn't Voldemort we're interested in. Not yet," Cynthia said. "Tonight is about sending a message. To continue spreading fear among your little mask wearing buddies."

Walden opened his mouth only for Diantha to interrupt. "And we'll do that by letting you die… slowly."

He chuckled at that, his left arm hanging limp as he touched at the stab wound on his shoulder. They'd get their wish if he didn't get a chance to stop the bleeding. That was something people always forgot about, that technically any stab wound could kill if you didn't get it to clot properly. He'd seen tough bastards get sliced in the leg or along the back and think they were fine only to get dizzy after a few moments and then topple over and die from blood loss. The Ministry required him to carry a few med packs in his jacket, just in case, but as with everything in his life he tended to ignore such rules and just do what he wished. He knew how to handle his azxe and he certainly wasn't a bumbler with it. 'And now we see where that got me.' He shifted, reaching up with his good hand and moved his shirt over the wound, figuring that he could get it to clot a bit even with a bit of fabric. It would work till he could get a med pack or, worst case scenario, get a fire type to cauterize the wound.

"And what exactly has you interested in me?" he asked, stalling as he looked for an opening to escape. He absolutely hated fleeing but for as much as he enjoyed a good fight and some bloodletting he wasn't an idiot and knew the odds weren't in his favor. He might have to take the little bitch as a hostage but he needed to get moving.

"You're not going to deny you are part of Team Nocturne, are you?" Cynthia asked, amused.

"Nah. No point really… you actually are smart enough to figure out that all those claims about being 'forced' to help Lord Voldemort are as full of shit as our minister."

Diantha took a step forward. "What about your role in the third task?" He grimaced and tried to make it look like a wince of pain but knew none of them were falling for it. "Avalon might not have been interested in investigating but we were. You were there as part of the Ministry delegation to watch the competition… but security shows you disappearing near the rigs used to lift the safety orbs out of the water." She drew her daggers and spun them. "You almost killed my children."

"Children are small and fragile. It's a surprise they don't die more often-Night Slash!"

Diantha leapt back, eyes wide as Scizor lashed out with his claws, moving to take off her head and much of her torso. Walden was already moving forward only for a gray shape the size of a small boulder to burst out of the forest, forcing him to drop to the ground as it rolled towards him, bouncing at the last moment and slamming down into the steel/bug, causing it to miss its final hit that would have ended the threat of the dark haired Kalosian. Walden scrambled to his feet as the armored ball rolled over to Kenway and unfurled into a Donphan.

"Cynthia, Diantha, I know you have greater claim but… oh, it's been a long time since I did this the old fashion way so let me indulge," Kenway snarked before thrusting out his hand. "Mumik, Earthquake!"

"Scizor, into the air!" Walden commanded, his Pokémon leaping up as the earth just as the Donphan brought his foot down and caused the ground to tremble and roll like it was the ocean. "X-Scizzor!"

"Roll up and go high!" Jack shouted. His Donphan trumpeted and tucked into a ball against, racing along the ground before using the last remains of his Earthquake to launch himself into the air.

Walden scowled. "Iron Claw to knock him down!"

"Fire Fang!" Kenway snapped off.

"Cancel the attack!" Walden called out but it was too late and the Donphan's tusks, glowing red hot, scrapped against Scizor's metal thorax, sending small hunks of red steel raining down to the ground. It was only because they were in the air that Kenway's Pokémon couldn't do more damage and gravity thankfully yanked it back down to the forest floor, allowing the Scizor to press a claw to its injured body. "Don't just float there! Night Slash!"

"Dophan, on the defensive!"

The Scizor rushed down, claws glowing with dark energy, and lashed out before racing back up into the air. The Donphan, unable to curl up into its rolling form, could only brace itself and take the hits. Walden quickly saw his chance and commanded his Pokémon to keep it up. Like a Spitfire doing fly by runs the Scizor dove down and attacked again and again, never allowing the Ground Type a chance to curl up and get some speed.

"Good, now use only your right claw to attack that Donphan! Left on the ground! Dig him a grave!"

"Mumik move!"

But the Donphan, while fast in his ball form, was too slow when on his legs and every time he tried to shift away Scizor fired off an attack that took out large chunks of the forest floor and dug deep trenches that quickly boxed the ground type in. Walden was beginning to feel good about his chances of getting out of things. Soon he'd have the ground type pinned and then he could just have Scizor shoot him down like Magikarp in a barrel.

"Why the hell are you even here, anyway?" Walden demanded, sneering in Kenway's direction. He held out his arms and gestured at the forest that stood dark and silent around them even as the bellows and screeches of their Pokémon filled the air… or perhaps it was silent for that exact reason. "You aren't here to conquer... you don't have the stomach for it! If you did you'd have made Kanto your bitch when you had the chance! Instead you slunk away like a weakling. So why bother?"

"Because your master targeted those I care for," Kenway snapped. "For that he's earned my attention."

"Bullshit," Walden pressed as Scizor did the same. "If this were simple revenge I could understand it… but there is more to this, I can see it in your damn eyes." He scoffed. "Don't tell me you've actually grown to care about Potter!"

"And what if I have?" Jack growled.

"Then I'd call you a pathetic weak fool! No… I'd say you're an idiot first and foremost. You think you're being heroic doing this for him? The only heroes in the world are the ones in shallow graves loved by those too weak to get their hands dirty! And that's what you're doing here… making the boy weak! Hell, he wants to kill Lord Voldemort because he offed his parents? Fine… I think that's a stupid reason because parents are little more than distractions but that's a good enough excuse for some. But he has to do it himself. Get his hands in the blood and the gore. How else will he be ready? Can't just jump up to murdering the likes of Voldemort without getting guts under your nails. You lot… you and the Veela whores-" Kenway's upper lip curled and Walden smirked; he'd touched a nerve. "All you are doing is making him soft. So tell me Kenway… why are you here? Why are we doing this?"

"You really want to know?"

"Not really," Walden admitted. "Because I'm sure you have a bloody moronic reason."

"It seems like in every generation Fate in her fickle nature decides to kiss a few people and make them her chosen. She singles them out and says, "You don't get a normal life. You don't get calm weekends and restful days off. You get to pick up the sword, charge the castle, and spend the next 20 years praying that if you are too slow to dodge your death is quick." Dumbledore, Sir Aaron, Red, Godric, Abe, Wes, Ash, me… we get singled out and told "Fight this monster, end this war, save our people." And if we do a good job of it we might be able to get a scrap of that love and peace for our very own… or maybe we're just told, "My kingdom's restored; you're no longer needed" and expected to slink off and never bother polite society again. And every time we go charging out into battle with the cries of those begging for us to be their hero we wish that for just one moment, for one day… someone else could come and take the burden. To be thehero. That we wouldn't need to be the protector… the savior… the killer… the monster."

Kenway snapped his head up and glared at Walden and if he did actually care what the man thought he would have taken a step back.

"That's why I'm here. So he doesn't need to be. So that he is given what I and all those that have come before never got: a chance! A chance to live! A chance to prepare! A chance to be ready! That's why you won't win tonight, MacNair. Even if you take Mumik down and every other Pokémon I throw at you and its me against every legendary in the world… I won't stop. You. Won't. Win. Until Harry's ready… until he decides its time to reach out and take this mantle… I won't… I refuse to stop! To submit! To die! MUMIK! SEED BOMB!" Kenway shouted.

Scizor had expected that move about as much as Walden had and thus didn't have time to move before the massive seed struck his injured chest and exploded. It didn't do a ton of damage, even with the injuries, but it was enough to knock it off its flight plan and give the Donphan a chance to scramble out of the torn up part of the forest floor that it had been trapped in. "Keep it up!"

"Run out of tricks, Kenway?" Walden demanded. Scizor, having figured out just what the Seed Bomb Attack was capable of, simply batted the blasts away, taking a small amount of damage and getting a bunch of seed pods stuck to its armor but that was about it. "Because this is rather pathetic. Unless you want to make Scizor deaf from clattering those things against its armor…"

Kenway shifted his head slightly, his hood moving to let Walden see the smirk he was wearing. "Nope… just decided to try something the boy you mock did a few years back."

"And what's that?"

"Give the fire some kindling!" Kenway shouted as the Donphan finally curled up and gathered speed. "FIRE FANG!"

For Walden it seemed like things were moving in slow motion. The Donphan leapt into the air, his tusks going from white to burning red, and then he was striking Scizor again. But this time, even as the Donphan fell to earth, the fires remained… as the shattered remains of the Seed Bombs lit up like bonfires. Scizor let out a screeching cry that made Walden's ears ache and then the burning seed pods caught one of its wings ablaze and it was plummeting, falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

"One more thing, MacNair… one more thing that makes me different from you: I never stop improving! Mumik… into the sky!" Kenway declared, drawing his thumb across his throat. The Donphan raced rapidly around Walden's injured Scizor, gaining speed until he bounced high into the sky, the fire that burned on his tusks swirling around his rotating form until it coated the Donphan's hide. "WORLDBREAKER!" Kenway roared and the Donphan fell to the Earth like an asteroid, slamming down right on top of Scizor and the bug's cries silenced in an instant and were replaced by a terrible crunching noise like a car in a garbage crusher just before fissures formed along the ground and spread out for nearly 20 yards in all directions.

Walden didn't to mourn for his Pokémon. Instead he turned on his heel and began to run-

-only to stop short as he collided with Fleur…who had rushed forward and drawn her own knife.

A knife that was currently sticking through his chest.

"NO!" Kenway shouted somewhere behind him.

"You almost killed my sister," Fleur whispered, her face fierce even with the tears that shined in her eyes. Walden found it utterly pathetic; just like a woman to sob. "Did you think I would forgive? That I would forget?"

Walden coughed before reaching up with his good hand and backhanding the bitch. Fleur stumbled back but then she was right back in his face, knife drawn as she stabbed him again and again. White hot pain laced through Walden's body as he fell, the girl screaming meaningless words as she turned his upper body into a red torn mess. The two of them ended up on the ground at some point, the hot blonde straddling his body and despite the pain Walden found himself finding it rather humorous that it was the bitch penetrating him rather than the other way around.

Finally though her parents yanked her off of him and Walden lifted his head, looking past the crimson ruins of his chest as Kenway grabbed hold of the girl's shoulders and shook her, her rage causing her to nearly stab him. He'd ripped his hood down and despite seeing the man in the graveyard during his master's return he was struck by how young the bastard was; he looked far too young to have done as much damage as he'd done to the world. He was saying something to the girl, Walden couldn't tell what and honestly he didn't really care. Kenway gave her a shake and then she seemed to finally notice the blood on her hands and began to tremble before bursting fully into tears, Kenway drawing her into a tight hug. Walden would have rolled his eyes if he had the strength to do so. That's why he hated so many people… fell apart at the sight of some blood.

'Pathetic,' Walden thought even as the edges of his vision began to grow dark and his senses failed him. 'Just path-'