It was like waking up from the grave. After the earthquake that Groudon had caused, Rose Crater was a grave. It was a miracle Calreath was alive.
Not a miracle, he reminded himself. He was alive because, ironically, someone had tried to kill him.
"I'll tear you two apart, one at a time!" the cult leader declares. He flicks his red-streaked hair out of his dark eyes, which blaze with pure fury, flecks of ruby in the irises like blood. "Who wants to go first?"
Calreath scoffs. "You say 'first' like you'll stand even a chance against me. You're the leader of the Infernal Cult."
Saying those words feels strange, like he's giving his opponent more power. Ignoring the vile taste, he continues, "You use fire and ground type Pokémon; I run a rain gym."
A cult leader against a gym leader. Not just any gym leader, either, but one of the strongest. Since Adam disappeared a year ago, Calreath is the strongest gym leader in Torren. While most gym leaders use only one type of Pokémon, the leaders in Torren focus their gym around a theme: the sun, the forest, the sky, the robot. Or was it just machines in general?
As a gym leader, Calreath's theme is rain. He smirks. "You won't last five seconds, Zenith."
Zenith is unfazed as he hops onto the table, followed by Calreath. It wasn't the most dignified battlefield, but it would suffice. Now it's Zenith's turn to smirk. "See you later, Cal."
The surface disappears under Calreath's feet. The last thing he sees is his nefarious enemy, bedecked in leather and fire.
Calreath wanted to laugh. In trying to kill him, Zenith had ultimately saved him as Groudon rampaged and brought down the volcano the Infernal Cult had used as their base of operations. The cells, the books, the golden statue of Manaphy—everything was gone, reduced to magma and stone.
The golden statue of Manaphy. It was a strange artifact to be in a base of a cult that admired fire and ground type Pokémon. But it could be Calreath's lifeline.
"Manaphy," he called out. His voice echoed eerily in the depths, and the dampness of the subterranean atmosphere almost choked him.
There was no answer, and sound should have travelled faster down here.
Calreath thought the worst at first, but then he accepted that Manaphy must have thought he was dead. She must have searched the Crater for ages and then eventually given up. She would have tried her best, because she had chosen Calreath.
In Torren, there are six pixie legendaries: Manaphy, the princess of the seas, tuned to everyone's hearts; Victini, the star of victory; Hoopa, who can bend space; Celebi, the timekeeper; Shaymin, the flower of gratitude; and Mew, the ancestor of all Pokémon. It is said that if you are chosen by one of these legendaries, you are a hero destined to save the region—and betray your friends to join Infernal.
Before hearing the full extent of the dire warning, Calreath had wanted to be the hero. What good child didn't grow up believing they would save the world?
Now, without Manaphy, Calreath was not the hero of Torren; this was for the better. Calreath would never join the Infernal cult, never work with the man who'd tried to kill him.
Besides, he was a gym leader who ran a rain-themed gym. He would triumph over any trainer who used exclusively fire and ground type Pokémon.
"Go, Politoed!"
His was no ordinary Politoed. Calreath's mega glove glowed while his partner became shadow—and then mega evolved. Mega Politoed was a crowned giant who rested on a throne made from a heavy storm cloud. Upon mega evolving, she summoned a heavy, unceasing torrent.
Calreath tipped his head back and drank the fresh rainwater. He didn't care that he was getting soaked; he was a rain gym leader, his gym was almost always flooded, and Amphitrite, his city, was a city by a lake. The citizens grumbled about how the moisture ruined their floors and walls, but Calreath was practically a merman.
"Thank you, Politoed," he gasped. The rain stopped as Mega Politoed reverted back to its normal form. Torren was a unique region with mega evolutions that no other region knew about, such as Froslass, Bisharp, and Flygon.
Calreath pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight. The light didn't shine very far, but from what he could see, the basement was empty. The only decor was an open fridge by the corner; moldy vegetables and spilled milk oozed out. Calreath shuddered. Compared to the rest of the Infernal base, this was absolutely disgusting. Zenith might have been evil, but at least he kept his property clean. Only the deepest underground escaped his notice.
Calreath began walking in a random direction, Politoed walking alongside him. Her webbed feet and his leather shoes squished on the wet floor.
"Hello?" Calreath called out. "Is anyone out there?" His voice echoed, echoed, echoed—this could have been the beginning of a horror film. Calreath cursed himself for revealing him and Politoed to any evil cultists lurking in the shadows underground.
The light flickered and the shadows grew. Calreath's phone had run out of battery. "No-no-no!"
No-no-no, no-no-no, no-no-n—
Politoed used Psychic to stop the sound waves. Calreath nodded in thanks, and then reached into his suit for his next partner.
Heliolisk hissed in pleasure as his dry skin sopped up the rainwater. He rolled his eyes knowingly when Calreath held out his phone with a pleading expression. This was not an uncommon request; it was essential for every trainer to have a handy electric type on their team to charge their phones.
Calreath, Politoed, and Heliolisk continued walking through the eerie basement. Ahead, there was a sharp plink as something fell onto the wet ground. Winged shadows screeched and flew at them.
Calreath raised his phone to see what they were. An entire colony of Zubat, Woobat, and Noibat screeched and flapped their wings, smacking each other as they tried to fly away. The three different species of Pokémon came from three different regions, but they all gathered in Rose Crater, which was far enough north that regional differences didn't matter here. In the north, only the strong survived. And sure enough, all of these bat Pokémon were slightly fatter than normal, with thicker fur and sharper claws; Calreath winced when they scratched his forehead and prayed to Arceus that they didn't have rabies or a disease that would turn him into a Pokémon.
"Politoed, return! Heliolisk, use discharge!"
Heliolisk's bright yellow lightning zapped everything nearby. All the bat Pokémon dropped around their feet. Calreath flicked excess static electricity off his clothes, letting the crackling tickle his fingers and ears.
He frowned. "They were fleeing from something."
A smarter or more cowardly man would have run, too, but Calreath knew that he'd just end up where he started: a dead end and a fridge with rotten food and spoiled milk.
Heliolisk hissed and shivered every few steps. Calreath could feel the ominous presence, too. "You can return, Heliolisk. Politoed, I need you again." Politoed glanced at the darkness ahead and blinked up at Calreath, as though asking, Are you seriously walking toward that? Are you stupid, trainer?
"I think it's Groudon," Calreath whispered as they drew ever nearer. "If it's here, then Zenith failed. And without Zenith, it shouldn't have the red orb. Electric type attacks won't affect it, but water will triumph. Rain always hits the ground harder. After all, where else does it have to go?"
Politoed rolled her eyes but walked beside Calreath, ready for battle. There was no need to worry. Groudon was asleep.
The behemoth loomed in front of them, its deep and regular breaths lifting and lowering its arms so the claws raked the air inches in front of Calreath's face. In Groudon's presence, all the subterranean humidity was gone, and Calreath suppressed a cough. Though the heat had been almost unbearable throughout Rose Crater, the air here shimmered, casting red-and-orange-and-black spirals on Groudon in a mystical illusion.
More mystical was the image that formed in the smoke.