CHAPTER 6 – RAINBOW HOWITZER

"Trainers, guests, and fans across the world, on behalf of the Pokémon League Committee, welcome to the Crown Battleground for the inaugural Summit Conference!"

The woman's voice was amplified a hundred-fold over the stadium's extensive PA network as a salvo of fireworks exploded high above her. Her words were met with an approving wall of sound from the stands, thousands upon thousands of fans dressed in every colour under the sun screaming in delight. Even through her thick glasses, she could barely focus her eyes on the stand's front few rows, they were so far away. Then again, the opening ceremony was taking place at the Battleground's largest stadium – Stadium 2. Why they'd called it that was a mystery to her, but honestly, she didn't really care. She wasn't getting paid for knowing the reason behind the colosseum's name.

"Allow me to welcome to the stand the president of the Pokémon League Committee. Please put your hands together for Mr. Charles Goodshow!" she announced, moving to the side of the vast stage in the stadium's centre. There's my month's pay-check done and dusted, she thought, smiling politely, as per her job, as Goodshow took up the microphone to a chorus of cheers and applause. Being much shorter than the woman, he took a few seconds to lower the microphone stand down to a level he could speak into. The tactical delay also gave the noise a brief window with which to decrease.

"Thank you all very much for coming," Goodshow said warmly, raising a hand in appreciation of the huge crowd. "I consider it a privilege to be standing before you all on this momentous day, to officially announce the commencement of the first ever Summit Conference!" The crowd swelled with noise and whistled their delight, and Goodshow held back a chuckle as he spied a Mexican wave out of the corner of his eye. The gesture had always been a personal favourite of his, so much so that he'd vetoed an effort to ban its use at arranged tournaments.

"Of course, were it not for the dedicated staff of the Pokémon League Committee, I wouldn't be here to show off my dream to you all. So please give them all a big round of applause for working so tirelessly to put this all together," he requested politely, joining in with the tens of thousands of spectators in congratulating his co-workers.

He turned his head towards the stage's rear, purposely casting his attention towards his lone attending secretary – Samsara was occupied by a call from his family. Modest as always, Michaels had simply raised a hand in recognition of the praise. To Goodshow's amusement, Michaels seemed somewhat embarrassed by the crowd's reaction. His head was ever so slightly bowed, and the faintest trace of a blush decorated his cheeks.

It's a shame Samsara couldn't be here for this… thought Goodshow, turning back to the microphone as the applause died down. "Now, I wouldn't be much of a gracious host if I didn't ask you all to join me in thanking our many sponsors for this event. First and foremost, our primary sponsor in the Devon Corporation, whose investments and inventions went a long way towards outfitting all our facilities with the latest in Pokémon trainer technology."

Goodshow took a step back, freeing the microphone up for a tall man with silvery hair standing next to Michaels. He was, of course, Steven Stone, the former Hoenn region Champion. With a curt nod towards the older man, Steven took up the stand. Goodshow could barely hear himself think over the explosion of noise that followed from the crowd. Steven had always been a favourite of trainers from all over the world, but nowhere more so than his home region here in Hoenn. The stylish, purple-striped suit which he was – as always – dressed in had become a pop icon over the years.

Smiling inwardly at the beaming faces of his many fans in the crowd, he picked up the microphone stand. "Props for the plug, Charles," he smiled, drawing a jubilant chorus of laughter from the packed stadium before he addressed the spectators themselves.

"On behalf of my father who couldn't be here today, allow me to thank you all for your involvement in the Summit Conference, and for your support of the Devon Corporation. I'm convinced that without your continued support, this Conference wouldn't be up and running today, and neither would my father's company. As Devon's acting vice-president, I would also like to publicly assure you that Devon will continue to devote its time, money and influence towards building a brighter future, for people and Pokémon alike, for many more years to come. Thank you," Steven concluded, stepping back to thunderous applause.

"Well said, well said," Goodshow cheered, quietly grateful that Steven hadn't readjusted the microphone as he took it back. People these days had unfortunately short attention spans, and a couple of selfish tendencies such as the one with the stand had been subtly playing on his patience over the last few years.

As Goodshow resumed reciting the list of sponsors, allowing each representative a few words of their own, Steven heaved a sigh. Despite his high-ranking position at the Devon Corporation – something no doubt on account of his father's interference than anything else – he was uncomfortable, for lack of a better word, with his current assignment as a representative. He felt that his father was using his public adoration as a tool to promote his company, something he had passionately argued to the man. Alas, his father had guilt-tripped him into doing him a "small favour".

"Problems at home?" Michaels asked quietly, keeping his eyes trained on Goodshow.

Steven didn't flinch. "I hate it when you do that…" he muttered, irritated by the man's intuition. It was as if he knew how to read minds.

"I'll take that a yes."

"—please welcome to the field, the first of the two-hundred and fifty-six trainers competing in the Summit Conference, from Pewter City, Pete Pebbleman!" announced one of the many aides dotting the stage, his voice incredibly suave. As expected, he was dressed in a tailored tuxedo for the event, and his black hair had been styled in an old-fashioned bowl cut.

Already up to the trainer introductions? Steven mused, unfolding his arms and clapping along with the crowd, who had just gone wild with the arrival of a trainer. An average-sized man with untidy black hair and large eyes trudged out from one of the four trainer tunnels lining the field boundary, waving emphatically as he took his place in front of the stage.

Ash watched as Pete walked out onto the enormous field, enthusiastically applauding his one-time League opponent. The numerous other trainers milling around in the tunnel shot him odd looks, prompting a quick desist. Although the battle had been more than four years ago, Ash still remembered it as clear as day. Especially Pete's Arcanine, which had nearly knocked him out of the Indigo League.

When he'd seen Pete lining up for an introduction earlier, he'd instinctively searched the room for another of his Indigo League rivals; Richie. To his – and Pikachu's – disappointment, the boy hadn't been there, nor had his Pikachu, Sparky. In fact, aside from Pete, Ash only recognised one other trainer in the room, despite them all supposedly being from Kanto. That person was Gary, who was standing behind him and looking extremely bored. His attitude puzzled Ash. There was palpable anxiety in the air, which only seemed to magnify within the tunnel's plaster confines, and yet he was completely oblivious to it.

Indeed, Gary had been the only familiar face Ash had encountered since his arrival at the Battleground, not long after sunrise. He'd been far too distracted by the island's splendour to go walkabout in search of previous acquaintances, and was swept up in the tide of trainers as they all rushed to Stadium 2 for the opening ceremony. Even as they'd all been directed into their respective trainer tunnels, Ash was as wise as a Rhyhorn as to whom else was competing, or at the island.

With nothing constructive to do until his name was called out, Ash tuned his ears to the speaker in the back of the tunnel. Gary was doing the same, it seemed, for his expression twitched as a name floated over his head. Oblivious to his friend, Ash waited until he heard the name of someone he knew.

Ten minutes passed without so much as a familiar name. The room was now much less crowded, with almost half of the trainers occupying the tunnel having been called out to the field. Ash had taken to sitting cross-legged on the floor, drumming his fingers against the dusty carpet to pass the time as he blocked out all noise bar the speaker. Pikachu was still perched on his shoulder, but he looked ready to sleep, eyes half-closed and an empty expression on his face.

"Pii… ka…" murmured the Mouse Pokémon, settling in against his trainer's hat.

"—Harrison James, from Littleroot Town!" droned the speaker, making Ash's head bolt upright. Pikachu started in surprise, Thunderbolt at the ready, but Ash patted a hand on his head to soothe him. The Pallet native craned his head past the line of trainers blocking the exit, but the light contrast beyond the tunnel made seeing outside nigh impossible. Springing to his feet, he darted to the field entrance, throwing a hand up to shade his eyes from the harsh glare, Pikachu burying his head against Ash's head to block out the light.

Sure enough, Harrison's tall figure and short brown hair could be seen strutting out to the stage, waving both hands high in the air. He was barely halfway across the field before the speaker churned out another easily recognisable name.

"Gary Oak, from Pallet Town!"

"Make way, coming through," said Gary as his spiky hair bobbed closer. His name was greeted with a roaring chorus of cheers, and he gave Ash a casual thumbs-up as he walked past. Ash mirrored the gesture, Gary's trademark sneer flashing across his face before he passed under the tunnel archway and out onto the field. He immediately shielded his face from the sun's wrath, his watch catching the sunlight and bouncing it past Ash's empty shoulder. A muttered curse from the depths of the dark room gave Gary his second exit cue, and he jogged out, taking his place amongst the two-hundred-odd trainers dotting the grassy field.

By now, the crowd's rallying chants had become so loud that Ash was having difficulty hearing the loudspeakers. He tore his eyes away from the field, effectively ignoring the next trainer to walk out – a teenage girl with blue hair who looked untroubled by the hot weather striding out from the tunnel directly across. Revelling in the relative cool inside his own tunnel, he retreated to the back, all the better to be closer to the speaker. He'd prefer to not miss his name and become the laughing stock of the tournament before it even began. The remaining trainers had adopted a similar strategy, but thankfully they weren't talking loudly enough to drown the speaker out.

"Ah, I thought the regional champions were competing…" commented a broad-shouldered man with a black goatee, in response to a name that had just been called out. Ash's eyebrows flew up when he saw the expensive night-blue suit the man had donned for the ceremony. Atop his shoulder, Pikachu paid no attention, presently slumped against Ash's neck.

"Dumbass," snarled someone behind the man, drawing his attention. Frowning at the language, Ash tilted his head to the side, surprised when he found the voice belonged to a particularly short girl whose hairstyle reminded him of an Exeggutor. In addition to her light skin she was also incredibly thin, evidenced by how tightly her red jacket had to be fastened around her waist.

"Mind your tongue, little girl," the goateed man hissed. He glared down his nose at the girl with grey eyes, hoping to provoke a reaction.

"Don't you talk down to me, dickhead!" she snapped, baring her teeth in contempt at the man's condescension. Ash hastily took a step backwards as her hands formed fists at her sides.

"But you're too short for me not to," chortled the man, his words filled with utmost derision. The girl quickly registered his tone, and her fist was halfway towards delivering a painful uppercut to the man's groin before it was shrouded in a blue aura. The limb froze in mid-air inches from his expensive blue suit. The tunnel's only other occupant – Ash aside – walked out onto the field, ignoring the scuffle.

The girl's expression changed from shock to rage in a fraction of a second. "You fu—!" she screamed, but her words were cut off as the blue light spread to cover her body, forcibly clamping her mouth shut and contorting it into a wide smile. Her eyes remained open, however, and the man lowered his face to hers, evidently drawing his own sick pleasure from the scene as the girl struggled against her bonds.

"My my, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he gasped, feigning concern. "Oh, how silly of me… That's my job, now isn't it?"

Although she couldn't speak, her eyes continued to burn into his, pure hatred radiating out like the aura that was holding her still. Ash moved to tell the man off for his behaviour, but he spotted Ash out of the corner of his eye. Before Ash had completed a single step, the same blue aura had wrapped around his own body, paralysing him.

What the heck…? Is this a Psychic attack? Ash yelled, his voice strangled under the constrictive effect. With his eyes being the only part of his body he had conscious control over, he glanced down, relieved to see that Pikachu wasn't in distress from the attack. To his surprise, Pikachu looked to be sound asleep.

"Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but alas, I've been summoned," the man said, Ash's gaze locking back onto him. He smiled and raised a finger for silence, though neither Ash nor the girl could break the silence that ensued even if they wanted to.

An announcement from the speaker did the job for them. "Please welcome Praetar Dierel from Lavender Town!"

So that's his name… thought Ash, making sure to remember it should they meet again. Praetar's smile widened, himself turning on his heel and striding towards the field, leaving Ash and his fellow captive to struggle fruitlessly against the strange power. He tried to cry out, but his mouth refused to obey his mind. He could only watch on, powerless, as Praetar reached the tunnel archway, feeling a burning sensation of anger boil up from deep inside him.

"No, that would be unintelligent…" Praetar said suddenly, stopping at the threshold and half-turning towards them. A sadistic grin reared onto his face, and he snapped his fingers thrice.

The tunnel darkened immediately, the white plaster walls quickly fading to a deathly shade of violet. Ash's eyes darted this way and that, trying to comprehend what was transpiring. His first thought was that it was a Pokémon's doing. But his eyes told him there were no Pokémon in sight except for Pikachu. How was that man doing this? Did he hold some kind of supernatural power?

His confusion was answered a second later as a dark shape slowly drifted out of the wall. It laughed torturously as it emerged, the frayed witch's hat atop its head swaying to and fro.

Its body was the exact same shade of violet as its surroundings, contrasting against its soulless yellow eyes. A line of red stitches formed the spectre's wickedly grinning mouth. Below its macabre face, a row of crimson orbs were affixed around the base of its spindly neck. The rest of its hovering figure was comprised of a long cloak, which rippled fiercely despite the lack of wind. Further enhancing its nightmarish appearance was the shimmering blue fire surrounding it; the same shade of blue as the psychic grip on Ash and the girl.

Ash instantly recognised the shape as a Pokémon, having met a particularly vindictive one in Sinnoh.

It was a Mismagius.

"Come, Mismagius, we don't want to be late!" Praetar cooed, beckoning for his Magical Pokémon to join him. Mismagius ignored him for a second, leering ferociously at the other two, but it reluctantly submitted to its trainer. Ash felt the blood rush back to his legs as Mismagius let down its Psychic, but they gave way and Ash crashed onto the ground. A thump from nearby told him the girl had experienced something similar. After making sure he hadn't landed on Pikachu, he snapped his vision upwards.

All he got was a fleeting image of Praetar recalling his Mismagius before the colour flooded back to the tunnel, temporarily blinding him. The second time he looked up, Praetar was gone, and the sounds of the cheering crowd began echoing down the musty tunnel.

What the heck was that all about? he thought.

"Asshole!" the girl spat, but her words were strangled by the roaring outside as she broke into a coughing fit. Still a little light-headed after the Psychic, Ash stumbled to his feet, holding a hand against the wall to steady himself. The room spun around him, gravity imploring surrender. He blinked once, twice, and shook his head, and the world righted itself. Pikachu still snoozed peacefully, cradled against Ash's chest by his free arm.

Ash glanced down at the girl, who was still on the ground and tenderly touching her face. He held out a hand to help her up. "He—"

"Don't touch me!" she seethed, knocking his hand away. Ash recoiled, spying a red flush on her face between the green bangs. Another round of applause drifted down the tunnel as she valiantly struggled to her feet, head bowed and legs shaking uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?" Ash asked earnestly, staying at a safe distance and gently trying to wake Pikachu. The Electric-type seemed quite unwilling to be roused.

"I'm fine," she snapped, eyes fixed on the ground as she righted herself. In truth, she looked the opposite of fine, but with a temper like she'd displayed earlier, Ash knew it was unwise to push the issue. Curious silence was the optimal choice.

"Our third-last trainer, Mimi Saigis from Boon Island!" crackled the speaker.

"Finally," the girl muttered. She ambled forwards, pushing on the plaster to stay upright in her dizzied state. Employing his usual chivalry, Ash let slide her earlier outburst and put her arm on his shoulder for support.

WHAM.

Ash found himself lying face-down on the floor once again, a severe aching in his jaw courtesy of a vicious haymaker from Mimi's right fist. Stars were already bursting into his vision by the time he'd located a hand to hold against it. Pikachu twitched into consciousness, having been dropped onto Ash's lap as the latter had fallen over. Managing to distinguish up from down, Ash rolled onto his back, staring incredulously at an enraged Mimi.

"I told you not to fucking touch me," she hissed murderously, already moving towards the field and leaving a dazed Ash in her wake.

"Ugh…" he groaned once she'd disappeared beyond the archway, gingerly nursing his injury. For someone as short as Mimi – almost half a head shorter than Ash – she sure packed one heck of a punch. "Have I done something wrong today, Pikachu?"

"Piikapi kachu pi pii?" Pikachu asked.

"True," Ash replied, pushing himself off the ground. Habitually, he scooped Pikachu up off the carpet, the Mouse Pokémon dashing up to his usual perch. Man, today's sucked. I tripped over getting off the boat, I got lost on the way to the stadium, and now I've been attacked by a Mismagius and punched out by a girl! Hopefully that's all my bad karma out of the way for the tournament…

"—Our final trainer, Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town!" came the speaker's final announcement before it gave a faint beep and turned itself off.

"Well, this is it," Ash sighed, quietly anxious about the reception he was going to get. Pikachu nuzzled his cheek. "Thanks, buddy." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He was about to walk out onto the field that would host the PLC's greatest triumph. Judging by the sound pounding against his eardrums, almost fifty thousand people had turned up to watch it. Right now, they were waiting for him. Once he left the tunnel, he'd be standing amongst the very best trainers in the world. He was one of the very best trainers in the world.

And in time, he'd show them all that not only was he one of the best, he was the best.

"Let's go, Pikachu!" he said, flicking his hat backwards and dashing out onto the field with a grin on his face. The early morning sunlight blazed full in his face, but the colossal cheer that assaulted his ears from all angles hit him even harder than Mimi. It was absolutely deafening, stunning him to a stop just outside the archway. He could hear his name being screamed by thousands, people of all ages chanting it to an unknown beat.

Looking around, Ash saw a handful of people, barely metres away, wearing shirts emblazoned with his own face. He laughed merrily at the very thought of it, and waved a joyous hand at his fans. If he thought the noise was incredible before, the handwave made it unbelievable. The volume skyrocketed, making Pikachu cringe closer to Ash's thick hair to dampen the sound. Ash never knew he was this popular, but he drank in every moment of it. The atmosphere was simply euphoric.

Finally managing to tear his eyes from the scores of people cheering him on, he cast his gaze inwards, past the immaculately trimmed grass field and towards the centre stage. All the other trainers were standing in front, waiting for him. There were too many to count. He looked over their heads, seeing Goodshow himself standing at the front of the grand stage. Ash and his friends had met Goodshow a few times before, most notably at the Ever Grande Conference, and Ash nodded in thanks at the old man. He could've sworn he received a nod in return, too.

Pushing the thunderous crowd to the back of his mind, he began the long walk out to the centre. He was silently thankful for being the last trainer introduced. It meant he didn't have to hurry. He could enjoy this sensation for as long as possible. His feet moved of their own accord, their owner paying no attention to them, instead completely fixated on the stadium's interior. By far and large the biggest stadium Ash had ever been to, he figured through the haze in his mind that it could easily hold a hundred-thousand people. One, two, three, four tiers of seating he could count from down on the field, each one overhanging the last and providing maximum visibility for the audience.

But truly, the most magnificent thing Ash could note about the stadium was the colours. And not the metallic-blue steel the stadium had been constructed form. The colours the spectators were wearing, as he turned a full revolution, made it feel like he was walking between rainbows. He could almost reach out and touch the twenty-metre tall collage with his bare hands. The image seared itself into his memory, thrusting itself upon Ash like an invaluable treasure he was destined to hold. And he would never forget the image for as long as he lived.

It was as if Ho-Oh itself were present, giving Ash its blessing.

Physically shivering at the prospect of battling here one day, Ash's subconsciously controlled legs guided him to his place amongst the trainers. He was too awestruck to notice who he was standing next to, or even translate the noise of Goodshow talking once more.

"And now, without further ado, I declare the first ever Summit Conference underway!"

As an interesting note, during my first writing of Crown, I got this far in the story, and was already at my eighteenth chapter. Amazing how much quicker a story flows when you remove all that filler, eh?

One thing I'm very interested to receive is an opinion (or ten) on Crown as a whole so far. Have you been enjoying the story? Has it moved at a good pace? Do you like my writing style? And so on and so forth. I consider this chapter a 'checkpoint', if you will, in the story's progression, so I feel it's better to ask now before the major arc kicks into gear next chapter.

Speaking of, Chapter 7 will be released Thursday, December 1st, and will feature a couple of (more) new faces. Well... one of them isn't so new if you're in the know and read around. Hint hint.

Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~