Castelia wasn't the same as when King had lived in the city, not in the slightest. The buildings themselves, of course, were mostly unchanged in their appearance: rising towers of metal lined with window after window. It was the people, the atmosphere, that had changed as if everyone had a storm cloud over their heads. As if they were all waiting with uncertain, bated breaths for what would happen next.

King ambled through a long street parallel to Castelia's harbor; a chilly breeze gusted around him. Since it was almost winter, flakes of snow drifted down from a whitewashed, dull-colored sky. The noise of the water lapping against the docks and the creaking of boats filled his ears, but what he didn't hear was the loud conversation of sailors that would typically be present this close to the harbor. Now, the place was practically deserted, with only a few hunched souls mulling about between the ships.

He stopped, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched those few. Exactly as he'd thought, N's death had sparked a new period in the pointless revolution against Pokemon that raged throughout Unova. No one was buying Pokeballs - or anything similar, like potions - anymore, attending events meant to showcase Pokemon battles, and refusing to go to any Pokemon-themed stores or parks. People were even going so far as to kidnap trainer's Pokemon in broad daylight. The government had tried to contain it all, but they were failing, and as such, the economy was collapsing; King couldn't even walk with zoroark in the street, and so had no one to converse with as he went. Usually, he would ignore petty glares and sneers, but when people started attacking him, that was a whole different story. It was either hurt them or let them hurt him.

Turning away from the harbor, he started down a different street, this one broad and lined on either side by glass-walled shops and businesses. Homeless people, who the failing economy had already screwed over, huddled together here in alleys and corners, shivering against the cold. King was fortunate enough to still have money left over from the tournament, but who knew how long that would last? Inflation wouldn't be too far off.

What he didn't understand was how the misguided people who'd joined Team Plasma hadn't seen the collapse coming. Surely they'd been smart enough to realize that, in taking away Pokemon, one of the pillars that supported society, things would come crashing down.

He stopped walking, breathing in a deep breath of cold air through his nostrils. Before N had… died, he'd said that his father, the leader of Team Plasma, was planning something big, but he didn't know what. A collapse of the economy could have been his goal. But why? Why would anyone want to throw a whole region into turmoil?

Because people will do damn awful things if it benefits them. Look around you. Would any of these people hesitate to steal all of your money if they could? He sighed. There wasn't any use in thinking like that, and there especially wasn't anything he could do to fix the economic problem. He wasn't worried about it, either; he would survive, no matter what happened. Even if money lost all its value and people had to bargain, hunt, and farm to live.

Soon, after walking the street a small way from where he'd stopped to think, he arrived at the reason that he was even in Castelia. The gym, run by the bug-type specialist - though why any would use only bug types, he didn't know - Burgh. When King had lived in Castelia, he would pass the place every day on his way home from work and stare at it for a few minutes - at the very least - wishing he could become a trainer but never thinking he could be good enough.

Back then, golden light would spill from the gym onto the street, and trainers would enter and exit throughout the day, coming from around Unova to earn their next gym badge.

As he watched it from across the street, he hardly recognized the place as that same building. Rioters had shattered the sliding glass doors that led inward, the same with the few windows along the front. The neon sign that was one of the gym's signature features hung by a thread, barely managing to stay on at all; the bulbs that used to give it light long since destroyed. He hoped that Burgh had made it out safely, but he hadn't heard a single thing about the gym leader on the news.

To say it was a depressing sight was an understatement. What had the world come to, destroying gyms like that? He wasn't sure what to think anymore, or what he should feel about being a trainer. He knew that using Pokemon wasn't wrong - that had always been a bunch of crap - but sometimes he felt a little voice clawing at the back of his mind, telling him to abandon the life he'd chosen. Zoroark, and his other Pokemon, too, when zoroark translated what they said - especially haxorus - confirmed for him that they wanted nothing more than to be his Pokemon. Still, he couldn't help but consider what the point was. The gyms were all shutting down: that meant no gym challenge. He'd begun thinking of the future, at times, and what his plans would be if not a single person would talk to him because he chose to keep Pokemon at his side.

There was one thing he had to do first, though, before he sat himself down and thought hard on a decision. There was one gym leader who would never abandon his Pokemon, not even if some god came from the heavens and proclaimed being a trainer was wrong and immoral. On top of that, if people tried to attack his gym… well, King wasn't sure what would happen then. It doesn't matter. I can win against him now. No doubt-

"King? No way is that you. No way."

He blinked, turning toward the voice that addressed him. It was a middle-aged woman, snowflakes stuck in her brown hair, with narrow, rat-like features. She was holding a plastic bag full to the brim with groceries.

It clicked as soon as he looked at her - his old landlord.

"Stephanie?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It is you. I'd recognize that flippant voice anywhere. You have some nerve coming back to the city after what you pulled."

He grunted, turning fully towards her. "I'm sure you found someone else to live there in-"

"-in your place, yes," she snapped. "But it didn't help that we had to move your things out on our own after you vanished!"

"I'm sorry, Stephanie," he said, genuinely meaning it. "I had some things going on then, but, you know, I suppose I should thank you for not getting the authorities and whatnot involved. Here: some cash to pay you back." He reached around to dig in the pack slung over his shoulders, where he was currently keeping his Pokeballs. He supposed it had been long enough since the Vertress Tournament that no one recognized his looks, either.

Stephanie stopped him with a sigh and a curt gesture. "No. There's no need. Your money won't be worth much soon, anyway. Everything is coming down around us."

He glanced at the gym, then back at her, nodding and returning his hands to his pockets. "You could say that again. How're you faring these days?"

"No better than anyone else," she said, shaking her head. "Most of my tenants lost their jobs and haven't been able to pay rent. You know what that means for me, Parkman."

"Hm. You sure you don't want-"

"That'll be the day, Parkman, when I start taking handouts from you."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

A car sped past them, engine humming. It made him realize the lack of them on the road. Yet another thing that had changed. He ran a hand through his hair and brushed the accumulating snow off his shoulders.

"I should get going," Stephanie said. "I'm surprised to say this, but… it was nice talking to you again."

He smirked despite himself. "You take care of yourself, Stephanie. Don't let the world bog you down too much."

Shaking her head, she moved around and past him, mumbling something about how that would be damn near impossible to do. He watched her retreating form for a few minutes, then turned back to studying the broken gym.

There was nothing left for him in Castelia. Humilau City was his next destination. He wasn't nervous about confronting his father. Everything would be fine.

He sighed. Well. Might as well get started on the journey.