Hello!
As a person who has always loved the two Shadow Pokémon games, I have waited a long time for a sequel... but it doesn't look like we're gonna get one. So, I decided to go ahead and write my own since its been in my head for some time. I hope you enjoy this first chapter, thank you.
Chapter One
Umbreon narrowed its eyes to avoid the whipping air from stinging its eyes. It bobbed as the motorcycle bounced along the uneven dirt, heading forward through the darkness with only the light of the motorcycle to show where they were going. The Pokémon, this one a black cat like creature with several pattered rings along its body that pulsed a bright yellow, looked at its other Pokémon companion. The sleek and purple catlike Espeon briefly looked over at his brother before both looked over, past the side car they occupied, to the man driving the motorcycle.
Wes was in his late twenties. His pale hair whipped with the flow of the wind and he kept his eyes, covered by a sleek silver pair of glasses, trained on the road ahead. He drove the motorcycle deftly, having held the bike in his possession for over a decade, along with his Umbreon and Espeon (which had accompanied him for nearly his entire twenty-nine years alive in the Orre Region).
As what once looked like the distant horizon finally closed in, Wes winded the engine of the bike to a halt and he kicked the stand, resting the bike as he stood up. His two Pokémon leapt off and kept pace with the man as he walked across the hard dirt to the edge of a sheer cliff. Wes crouched, pulling a pair of binoculars from his backpack. He looked through, using the zoom of the binoculars to spy on a camp far below. Several tents were set up.
A group of people moved quickly; their bodies were covered head to toe in a sleek white uniform. They moved around a massive steel crate and Wes it. He lowered the binoculars and looked down at Espeon, who bristled its purple fur. Whatever was in there, Espeon sensed its immense power. Wes frowned. It was just as his intel had told him. Still, he needed to see it with his own eyes, to truly try and understand what they were after. He put away the binoculars and looked down at Umbreon, his dark Pokémon quickly meeting his eyes.
"I need you to distract them," Wes said. "Go dark."
Umbreon stretched its back, revealing several sharp claws that protruded from its paws as it bent forward. Then it shook its bristly black fur and concentrated, the yellow rings on its body turning off. Wes nodded as his creature blended with the darkness. In a blur of blackness, Umbreon shot past its trainer, disappearing into some nearby bushes. The only evidence of its movement was the shaking of the bushes as it quickly disappeared into the night, winding down the cliffside on a small path to the bottom only it could climb.
Wes turned to Espeon.
"Stick close," he said.
Espeon shut its eyes and bowed its purple head.
Wes reached into a pouch at his side and pulled out an anchor and rope. He jammed the anchor into the ground and unfurled the rope, tossing it over the edge. He then took in a breath and slowly worked his way over the cliff, holding tight to the rope. As he began his descent, Espeon silently leaped onto his shoulder.
Slowly, methodically, he worked his way down the cliff, the thirty or so feet it took to reach the bottom. At the bottom was a gathering of bushes the man thankfully lowered himself into. As he crouched into the shrubbery, Espeon jumped from his shoulder, landing outside the bushes. Wes quietly crawled out, hiding behind a nearby tent. He looked at Espeon.
"Send the command," he whispered.
Espeon's eyes flashed purple, as it sent the message.
Soon after, he heard the men in white begin shouting.
"What was that?" one cried.
"Looked like some yellow flash," another replied. "You lot, investigate."
Wes grinned, knowing Umbreon received the message.
A few men remained in the camp and Wes took in a sharp breath, preparing his next task. Espeon, who read his master's thoughts, bowed again. Wes stood and walked out from behind the tent. The men ahead of him numbered three. They hadn't noticed yet as two had their back turned, but a third, standing ahead of the two, slowly started to see him.
Quickly Espeon moved, its eyes flashing again. A psychic blast threw the one who had seen them off his feet, slamming him hard onto his back. As one of the men turned to face Wes, the man connected a fist to his jaw, the only part of him that was exposed thanks to a white helmet that covered the upper half of his face, sending him spinning to the ground. The third man reacted quickly, reaching for a Poké Ball. However, he froze in place. Espeon's eyes glowed as it concentrated on holding the man in place. Wes ran up and decked the man across the jaw and Espeon released its hold as the man fell unconscious. The Pokémon let out a breath as it felt the tension of using its psychic abilities release.
With the other grunts distracted, Wes approached the crate. As he did, he felt a pressure wash over him. Something massive was in there. He heard a rumble, faint, as he approached. There were small slits running along the crate, which the man imagined were to allow the thing inside to breathe. As Wes slowly closed in, he heard a heavy snoring from within. He looked at Espeon, who stared apprehensively at the crate.
Wes approached it and peered inside. Within, a great blue and white body bobbed rhythmically as it snoozed away. He couldn't get a good look through his narrow viewing lens, but enough features of the creature's slick metallic body and massive white fins could be seen for him to confirm his source's words on what Cipher were trying to subjugate.
"It's like he said," Wes muttered to Espeon. His purple Pokémon bristled as it felt an immense pressure rush through it, coming from the creature in the crate. "What the hell could Cipher want with Dialga?"
"Certainly nothing you could comprehend," came a sharp, florid voice.
Wes pushed away from the crate and quickly turned, seeing a man standing tall several feet behind him. He wore purple and red clothes and his long wiry white hair waved unnaturally in the air, snaking in every direction like the snake hair of Medusa. It was his eyes that was the most unsettling thing about the man, glowing a deep crimson, deepened by his sinister grin.
"Nascour," Wes growled.
"Wes, correct?" Nascour asked. "How long has it been since you thwarted Cipher's first major plans? Twelve years? You certainly look more worn-down than you did back then."
"And somehow you look just as creepy as ever," Wes replied. "How did you get out of prison?"
"I had some help," Nascour said, a Cheshire grin widening his face. "The new head of Cipher is not someone to be trifled with. As you can see, one of the ancient trio has been captured by us. It won't be long before we find a way to turn it. Ah, this grand masterplan of our new grandmaster is nothing short of beautiful. When it is over, the whole world will bend to our will."
"We'll see about that," Wes growled. "Espeon!"
"I think not!" Nascour exclaimed. "Now!"
A burst of orange light exploded above Wes and Espeon. The trainer covered his eyes with his arms, and he felt Espeon stiffen beside him. He heard a great cry and lowered his arms, watching as a tall orange monster dropped from the sky, landing deftly on two long, feathered legs. The creature punched with taloned fists, its wrists ablaze with orange fire. It moved unnaturally, unlike any other form of the creature Wes had seen before, and he knew then it was no ordinary Pokémon, but rather the result of the experimentations of Cipher: A Shadow Pokémon.
"Blaziken!" Nascour cried. "Blaze kick!"
The Blaziken raised a leg and its foot ignited with red-hot fire. It leaped into the air and came down upon Espeon with great speed.
"Psychic!" Wes cried.
Espeon's eyes flashed as it caught the Pokémon with its mind, holding it in place mere centimeters above it. It felt the hot air from the flames, as droplets of sweat began running through its thin fur. Espeon threw the creature down, which quickly bounced against the dirt, using its arms to push itself into a backflip as it landed on its legs.
"Hmph," Nascour said. "Not too bad. I wonder how long that little thing can keep Blaziken at bay. It seems a little worn out. Your Pokémon have gotten a little old, yes? That's the beauty of Shadow Pokémon, Wes. They will never not fight with everything they have because they have no choice. You coddle your Pokémon, and it grows weak. High Jump Kick!"
Blaziken let out a cry and leaped into the air again, spinning at its foe with both legs moving at full force. At the last second, Espeon dodged aside and Blaziken crashed into the ground. It quickly returned to its feet, roaring like an uncaged beast.
Wes growled as he watched the obviously abused creature fight like a remorseless monster.
"Espeon!" he shouted. "Double team!"
Espeon complied, its body shaking as several illusive copies of itself appeared around it. Blaziken moved, attacking each Espeon it saw with clawed feet, the fakes disappearing into a cloud of smoke as he attacked.
"The real one is behind you!" Nascour shouted. But not in time.
"Psycho Boost!" Wes cried.
Espeon glowed, its whole body pulsing purple. It sent out a wave of psychic energy that connected with Blaziken, sending it sailing into the air, before catching it and sending it straight back down into the ground. Blaziken cratered the earth, disappearing into a thick plume of dust.
Espeon shut its eyes, its legs becoming wobbly. It fought as hard as it could to stay on its feet.
"Impressive," Nascour said. "However, our Shadow Pokémon are more powerful than ever."
As the dust cleared, Blaziken had returned to its feet, shaking, but still standing as though it were ready to give its life to defeat its opponent.
"Finish it," Nascour commanded.
Blaziken chirped and rushed forward.
"Espeon, move!" Wes cried.
Espeon, however, was frozen in place, still trying its best to stand on its weak legs. Blaziken closed in and kicked, its foot connecting as Espeon let out a shrill cry, flying into the air. Wes moved quickly, catching his Pokémon as it came flying his way. As he took hold of his longtime companion, he lamented as he saw its unconscious body.
"The trainer too," Nascour said, grinning as he pointed at Wes.
Wes growled as he watched the Shadow Pokémon rush at him. He sensed a familiar dark aura and felt a wave of relief wash over him.
"Umbreon, Flash!" he cried.
A blast of yellow light blinded Blaziken, and the fire Pokémon came to a stop, covering its eyes with its hand as it howled. Umbreon leaped over the crate and landed beside Wes. It growled as it eyed Blaziken, keeping close to its trainer to protect him.
"Just in time," Wes muttered. "Dark Pulse!"
Umbreon's rings glowed bright and it let out a blast of dark energy, sending Blaziken flying away. The Pokémon rolled against the ground for several feet, coming to a stop near Nascour.
"Get up!" Nascour commanded. However, Blaziken lay limp. "Useless!"
As Nascour reached for another Poké Ball, Umbreon let out another blast, knocking the man back. From behind the crate, Wes heard several footsteps heading their way. Realizing the grunts were coming back, he pulled two Poké Balls from his belt and returned his Pokémon to storage. He ran for the rope and grabbed it, climbing as quickly as he could.
Nascour returned to his feet and brushed himself off, watching Wes quickly ascend. He laughed.
"Run as fast as you can," he yelled. "You can't stop what's coming. A reckoning!"
As Wes reached the top, he abandoned the rope and anchor and quickly mounted his bike, turning it to ride as quickly as he could from the camp.
Cipher had captured the legendary Dialga and they intended to turn it into a wretched Shadow Pokémon, but to what end? Clearly, they would seek the other two of the sacred trio. He shook his head as he rode, knowing administering care for his Pokémon was his top priority. Then, he would work on shutting Cipher down, this time for good.
At the camp, Nascour returned Blaziken to the ball. He handed it to a nearby grunt.
"Take it in for conditioning," he said. "It's not strong enough yet."
"Yes sir!" the grunt shouted.
Another approached Nascour and bowed.
"The Grandmaster has arrived," he said.
Nascour straightened.
A vehicle approached, large and red, hovering above the dirt as it closed in on the camp, headlights beaming bright. As the vehicle entered the camp, it spun and came to a stop near the crate. The back opened into a ramp and Nascour watched as his master stepped out. The man fixed his slicked back blue hair as he approached the crate, peering inside. With a satisfied grin, he approached Nascour, who genuflected along with the other Cipher grunts.
"Rise, Nascour," the man said.
"Grandmaster Ardos," Nascour said. "As you can see, Dialga is ready to be subjugated."
"I fear it won't be that easy," Ardos said. "However, we are working on making it easier. Subjugating Dialga, and its opposite Palkia, will not be possible without the three sprites. We will acquire them soon enough, though. There are Cipher loyalists from outside Orre ready to ship them in."
"Excellent," Nascour said. "There's something else. A trainer tried to infiltrate the camp, but we managed to drive him off. His name is Wes. That Wes."
"The petulant slime that drove Evice into shame twelve years ago?" Ardos asked. "We'll search for him. And for the other one too. I suspect you know who that is, even though you aren't personally acquainted with that particular brat. He foiled our attempt at Palkia, as he foiled our Shadow Lugia plan those seven years ago, but we will find and stop him. For good. He will never again humiliate Cipher, even if I have to personally make sure of it."
"Only a matter of time, then," Nascour said, nodding. "It's time for Cipher's comeback. Orre has known peace for too long. Its grown complacent. Time to reintroduce ourselves. No more "heroes" to stop us this time."
Ardos smiled cruelly. "My father was a fool to throw everything away, and my brother for following after. I will return Cipher to glory. No… I will take it higher than ever before."
Nascour smiled and nodded. There was no way they would fail this time. The whole world would soon be theirs.
Oz fell back, landing on his behind as he closed his eyes and let out a cry. The adult standing above the fifteen-year-old boy reacted quickly, leaning down.
"Oh, I didn't see you there!" he said. "I'm so sorry."
"How could you not?" Oz cried. "Ouch! This ground is really firm, you know."
The man held out a hand and Oz stared at it for a moment. Then his eyes dragged away, to the roof of a building nearby. A shadow of a smile almost creeped into the corner of his lips as he watched a small black creature slowly lower from a gutter, dropping atop a small awning. It fell silently behind the man, dropping on two small clawed legs.
As it closed in on the man, it flashed two long claws, reaching them to the man's back pocket.
"Come on, kid," the man said. "Take my hand. I'm sorry."
Oz looked the man in his eyes and narrowed his own. "And how do I know you won't throw me down again?"
"Because I didn't the first time," the man sighed.
Oz smiled and took the offer, returning to his feet as the man pulled him up.
"There," the man said. "I really didn't see you, you know. I'm really sorry."
"It's fine," Oz quickly said.
Without another word, he left, disappearing into an alleyway. The man watched him for a while, wondering why he ran off so quickly. Then he felt his back pocket.
As Oz emerged on the other side of the alley to the darkened backstreets, he laughed. The little black creature dropped from a rooftop into his arms. It revealed a wallet between its two long claws. Oz took the wallet as the creature found a perch on his shoulder. Oz rifled through it, pulling all the money he could. With it emptied of value, he tossed the wallet aside.
"Ah, I love Pyrite Town," he said. "You did good, Sneasel."
Sneasel yipped as Oz scratched its chin, grinning mischievously as it naturally did.
"Now, we can eat," he said. "What do you say, you feel up for some of those finer things in life? How about some fancy bags of feed?"
Sneasel chirped.
Oz moved through the backstreets, weaving through alleyways as he prepared to return to the main street that ran through Pyrite Town. But as he did, he heard a voice shouting. He peered his head around a corner and looked out at the dusty desert street.
It was the man he had robbed, talking to no less than Officer Johnson.
"A little blonde boy," he said. "I ran into him and he ran off after. Next thing I know, my wallet is gone! He took it, I know it."
Officer Johnson sighed. "Listen, I've been here for years. This town ain't a pretty place, I'll tell you that. There are thieves everywhere. It might not necessarily have been him. You gotta be real careful 'round these parts."
"What, you know the boy?" the man asked. "Just find him and get me my stuff back! There was a fair bit of cash in that wallet."
"Alright, sir," Officer Johnson replied. "I'll do my best."
The man nodded and walked off. Officer Johnson sighed, removing his blue cap to run a hand through his brown hair.
With his back turned to him, Oz stepped out into the street. Across the way was the shop and he quickly made his way there, making sure to move before Officer Johnson could look his way.
The door to the shop slid aside and Oz entered, looking around at the shelves of goods lining the place. As he entered, he saw the shop keeper at the other end stiffen.
"Oh no, Oz," he said. "I can't have you just loitering around here again. You know the policy. You gotta buy something."
"It's alright, my man," Oz replied coolly. "This time, I got money."
He pulled the cash from his pocket and walked up the counter, slamming it down.
"I'm not even going to pretend that isn't dirty money," the shop keeper said. Then he sighed. "But I suppose no money around here is."
Oz smiled. "I want some nice chocolate bars. Enough to fill a nice bag. Also, a bag of feed for my good friend Sneasel. The good stuff, yeah?"
The shop keeper grimaced, muttering something incoherent as he took the money. He moved behind the counter, grabbing chocolate bars from the shelves and a bag of fine feed, placing them into a plastic bag he handed to Oz.
"Here you are, Oz," the man said. "Now get outta here!"
Oz smiled. "Thank you, my diligent worker friend. That'll be all."
Oz bowed and exited the shop with his haul. He smiled as he stepped out into the streets, taking in a deep breath. This was a good morning.
"I see you managed to buy a fair few things," said Officer Johnson as he approached the teen. "One might wonder where you got the money."
Oz looked over at the officer and briefly grimaced, quickly turning it into a smile.
"What are you implying officer?" Oz asked. "I worker hard for this money."
"Oh, I've no doubt," Officer Johnson said. "Though "hard" and "honest" do not mean the same thing."
Oz shot a hand to his chest.
"You wound me, officer," he said.
"Listen, Oz," Officer Johnson started. He sighed. "I've been doing this for a long time, and I was quite the fool when I was younger. I've seen many people get chewed up and spit out by this town, and I don't want the same to happen to you, yeah? You need to find honest work. A better life than this."
Oz frowned. "I'm doing what I can. Just stay out of my business, yeah?"
"If I catch you stealing, Oz, I'll have to take you in," Officer Johnson said, his voice low. "Just a warning."
As the officer turned and left, Oz's frown deepened.
"Yeah, whatever," he muttered to Sneasel. "As though there's any fair way for us to live here."
Oz shook his head and he and his Pokémon left the streets, disappearing into an alley. He weaved through the backstreets until he found a latter behind an abandoned building. Oz ascended the ladder, and at the top, he looked upon a familiar sight. A tarp had been stretched out, held up by several long sticks bolted to the flat ceiling of the building. Underneath the tarp, there was a bed comprised of several blankets stacked on top of each other. Next to it was a small bundle of towels.
Sneasel jumped from his shoulder and scampered over to the towels, curling up on it as it stared at its trainer. Oz placed the bag of food beside his bed and flopped back, letting out a sigh as he stared at the dull brown tarp stretched out above him.
"What a life, eh?" he said.
Sneasel reached out a claw, tugging at the bag. It chirped to get Oz's attention.
"What? Oh."
Oz pulled the feed from the bag and pried the seal open. He handed the bag over to Sneasel, who began munching gleefully.
"Don't eat the whole thing yet, yeah?" Oz commanded. "It's gotta last you for a bit. Savor it."
He then pulled a chocolate bar and unwrapped it, taking a nice chomp. As he ate it, he returned to his feet and walked over to the edge of the roof, where he got a good view of battle square across a few shorter buildings. From there, he eyed potential targets, which were basically anyone who looked new to town.
It was then he saw a man that looked to be in his late twenties, with pale hair, walking with a small black Pokémon Oz identified as an Umbreon.
"Bingo," he muttered.