Chapter 43
Plateau
Wartortle stood before the bridge of stark white ice. Though it had no supports, the ice was so wide and thick that Wartortle had no doubt it would support even the largest and heaviest of the Resistance Pokémon. After crossing, they'd be free to scour the exposed plateau for Articuno's precise location. The flowing mists of the night shrouded the plateau even from the bright light of the full moon.
He could neither see nor hear anything up ahead. That was good; their descent to the bridge had been sufficiently stealthy. Wartortle had been so cautious as to request that Quil extinguish his fires for the approach. If Articuno knew they were here, it would be optimal for the Legendary to stop them at the bridge choke-point. Even without a boost, Articuno would be able to hold that narrow bottleneck against any number of Pokémon. But Articuno wasn't here.
So far, so good, thought Wartortle as he turned to the gathered Resistance. The faces looking back at him were fully awake now. Not a single one of them displayed any reluctance. Wartortle gathered the pack-carriers together, then distributed their items to the Resistance according to his plans.
After that was done, he spoke in a low voice that wouldn't carry to the plateau. "This is it. After we cross the bridge, everyone please form up like we discussed. From there, keep quiet, take it nice and slow. Once we find Articuno and the talisman is off, give everything you've got."
The nods he received from some of them in return were solemn enough, but Wartortle couldn't help but feel he should say something more. This was, as they say, 'the moment of truth'. Wasn't this the part where the leader of the army said some inspiring words to stir the troops to readiness?
The moment stretched longer. Nothing came to mind.
So he faced the ice bridge and strode cautiously across. The rest of the Resistance was on the icy plateau with him and in formation within a minute, with no incident. Wartortle fell back to his own position as everyone pushed slowly forward toward the opposite edge about two hundred feet away.
Now that he was actually on the plateau, Wartortle could see that the surface wasn't quite flat, but slightly concave. The edges turned upward protectively, making it not a plateau but a huge, shallow bowl. Much like the crater of Iyrodenin, Wartortle realized. Though the ground was solid ice, it was not the smooth, slippery kind of ice. This ice was hard, rough, and coated with a sheen of white frost that helped him grip the surface. Nonetheless, his claws would prove more useful than normal if he needed to make a sharp turn. The bottoms of his feet felt the cold on every step, but they were in no danger of growing numb any time soon.
Shapes loomed in the misty night as he crept forward with the others. Some resolved into crystalline growths, like saplings made of pure ice. Others into thick icicles extending upward, as if formed by freezing water dripping from the plateau into the sky. The mist swirled and flowed around him with a will of its own. Droplets began condensing on Wartortle's skin. He glanced upward, and was not surprised to see the glow of the moon had been blocked by the dense vapor. Even the Pokémon at the limits of the formation were hidden from him.
The slope of the ground evened out before curving gently upward. They'd passed the center of the bowl. Wartortle inspected all of the icy formations he passed, but there was still no sign of their quarry. Articuno would be at the far side of the bowl, then. As close as possible to the view of the peninsula's end and the sea beyond. It made sense; that's where Wartortle would roost, if he were Articuno.
A couple of minutes later, the Resistance's steady foray across the plateau reached its end. Wartortle first saw the edge of the bowl through the mists on his left, then on the right, then finally straight ahead. All that lay beyond was open space and the shore of the peninsula far below. Articuno was nowhere in sight. Wartortle didn't understand. Like a long comb, the formation had stretched laterally enough to guarantee a sighting wherever the Legendary might be on the icy platform.
His heart sank, though there was a possibility they'd only notice Articuno while going the opposite direction. He indicated with his hands that everyone should turn around and walk back toward the bridge. A moment later, he noticed Loria nearby looking very agitated. The twin black appendages dangling from the Riolu's head were wobbling from an unseen force. She crouched and turned a slow circle, her eyes frantically searching the mists. The black dangles trembled as they rose steadily upward until they were parallel to the ground. Abruptly she straightened and looked to the sky. Wartortle followed her gaze.
A shadow descended from the skies above. The ground shook as something large landed on the ice in the center of the bowl, blocking the formation's path. A strong gust of frosty wind followed. Wartortle threw up his arms to shield his eyes as the mist was blown to the edges of the bowl. Articuno stood in the clearing.
"Welcome to my present home. You will not enjoy your time here."
The voice from Articuno's short beak was neither obviously female nor obviously male, like Moltres'. And again, if Wartortle had to guess, he would say she was female. Her voice had an easy volume that filled Wartortle's ears. Unlike Moltres, her tone was disinterested, almost aloof. She spoke as if making small talk until something more important came along.
The blue and white feathers of her plumage were the perfect match for the ice he'd seen among the mountains the previous day. Strikingly beautiful, but austere. She folded her wings while eying the Resistance beneath the heavy teal crest adorning her forehead. Thick talons dug partway into the ice as her long tail flowed behind her in a wind that Wartortle could not feel. It gleamed like ice. A tiny orange rock rested against the mass of white feathers on her breast. The talisman hung around her neck by a thin and very short cord. Wartortle might have missed the rock, were he not looking for it.
Wartortle raised an arm and took a deep breath of icy air to confidently sound the offensive. She got the jump on us, and we haven't got the talisman off her yet, but we can still win!
A second form plummeted toward them from the dark clouds high above. The plateau shook once again. Another Pokémon had landed on Articuno's right, between the center of the bowl and its edge.
Its vivid yellow wings framed by black feathers extended outward like a starburst. Its face, too, had long pointy feathers that reminded Wartortle of Quil's spiky flames. A very long orange beak extended downward as it inspected the Pokémon of the Resistance. Behind its orange talons, Wartortle could see a shockingly yellow tail, also framed by black. Crackling electricity jumped between its wingtips.
Zapdos.
"There are not NEARLY enough of you," she proclaimed. "One of us alone could overwhelm ALL of you. YOU WILL FAIL!"
Her powerful voice was much like that of Articuno and Moltres, but with a unique cadence. Certain words were emphatically drawn out like rolling thunder, while the ends of most other words had been bitten off.
"They are snowflakes," Articuno said after a pause, looking down on the members of the Resistance. "Falling through the air and trying to make sense of their brief existence before melting on the earth. Impulse drives them, not wisdom. We shall neither pity nor envy their shortsighted nature. It is their way."
Why? thought Wartortle, despairing. Why is Zapdos here? Have they united for self-interest? To watch one another's back against any who might end the boosts? But Moltres made it sound like each one of the Legendary Birds kept to herself. How would Zapdos have even known we were coming here?
He could feel the awe of the Pokémon around him. Hand in hand with awe was doubt. Their confidence had evaporated like so much mist before the presence of the two Legendaries. If Wartortle were to signal a charge into battle, he sensed he would be one of only a few who were willing to attack.
An identical talisman hung around Zapdos' neck. If by some whimsical stroke of fate the Resistance was able to defeat both of the Legendary Birds, then two boosts would be terminated. An even greater victory, resulting in greater peace to the Pokémon suffering from the Ice and Electric boosts. That was if the Resistance could win. Could they win, against two Legendaries? Both boosted by the talismans? Even if the Resistance was still raring to battle, would they even land any hits before being frozen and electrocuted?
A third form hurtled downward from the clouds. This one was not a shadow in the night, but a beacon that trailed fire as it dove to the plateau. With a cascade of embers and flourish of fiery wings, Moltres landed on Articuno's other side. Her glorious flames lit the bowl like daylight. Any lingering mist in the center of the bowl burned away. Firelight reflected off the icy plateau surface and swirling vapor at the edges of the bowl. It had become an arena with fire-lit white mists serving as the walls.
"Let us be done with this chore," said Moltres. A third talisman rested against her pale plumage. "This sanctum of darkness and ice is not suitable for Fire."
Articuno did not look at her when she responded a moment later. "Patience. He cannot fly as we do. Recall he wanted to speak to the Wartortle."
"I cannot fathom why he wishes to exchange words with a Wartortle," Zapdos rumbled.
Wartortle realized he'd been holding his breath. The pressure exuding from all three Legendaries was a tangible force. The very air was taut, reluctant to flow in and out of his mouth. He struggled to make sense of what the Legendary Birds were talking about while his head felt like it was being squeezed.
"I'm here, I'm here!" came a faint, squeaky voice from high above.
Empty air resolved into a speck of orange and creamy white descending toward the plateau. Victini. He settled onto Articuno's head, straddling the middle piece of her crest. Articuno went rigid. Her neck flexed, as if to throw Victini off, but she seemed to think better of that idea. Victini patted the side of the crest, a calming gesture fit for a raging, wild Rapidash.
Victini was here. Victini had somehow known of his plans. And all three of the Legendary Birds were here to stop him. Wartortle's legs gave way beneath him. He had no strength to hold himself up. His shell's bottom clinked against the ice as he sat on the cold floor. He had played into Victini's hand. What hope was there?
"Yep!" Victini called, his eyes shining as they met Wartortle's. "I knew you were coming. I admit I didn't expect you to bring a small army, but it really doesn't matter how many Pokémon you bring. I've got the three Legendary Birds, each overflowing with the power of Victini. You had some clever strategy I'm sure, but it's worthless now."
Quil spoke up over the Resistance's awed murmuring of "Victini!" to each other. "Articuno, Zapdos, Moltres, why are you working with him? He's not a real Legendary like you all are. You could easily beat him in a battle!"
"Oh, they certainly could fight me and win, silly Quilava," said Victini, "but I won't give them any more of my power unless I have their strict obedience. They'll need me to refill their little rocks every month or two. The Legendary Birds do as I say, or they don't receive a single drop. That's called 'leverage'." He giggled with high-pitched squeaks.
He focused on Wartortle again. "I've had them unite here against Brayden so that there's no chance of any boost being reversed. I can't have my timetables pushed back, oh no I can't!"
"How?" Wartortle croaked. Victini, the brilliant scientist that he was inside, easily caught his meaning.
"It was a nifty strategy, Brayden, pretending to catch me eavesdropping on your planning. Too bad I saw through it. You're not a great liar, you never were. Not like me. So I knew you'd do the opposite of what I heard you say. I knew you'd go to Articuno or Zapdos while you thought I was guarding Iyrodenin like a common Growlithe. Ha!"
He shook with glee atop Articuno's crest while all three Legendary Birds stood still, apparently awaiting orders. "You're smart Brayden, but I'm smarter. I've always been one step ahead of you. Do you realize you've accomplished absolutely nothing since coming to this island? You haven't stopped a single boost. You haven't made a teensy bit of difference. I'll concede that you put up a good effort, but you haven't even outsmarted me once. Come on, I expected better!"
He's right. It's over. It's all over. All we had going for us was my strategy. A strategy to be used against Articuno alone. A strategy intended to catch her sleeping. What a fool I am. Victini beat me long ago.
"The effects of the boosts are in full swing," Victini continued, growing more serious. "The chaos is uncontainable. Now that the foundation is established, I'm really going to make headway now. I have to make sure that progress remains progress though, so unfortunately, I'm going to stop you here once and for all Brayden. I can't have you meddling anymore. You and all your stupid Pokémon pals that you've gathered are not going to threaten my ambitions any longer. It's time to end this."
Wartortle found he could no longer bear to look at Victini, the human-turned-Pokémon who had thoroughly bested him, so he looked instead at the other Pokémon of the Resistance. The intimidating presence of four Legendaries had accomplished a feat he'd thought impossible. The Resistance cowered. They wanted to not fight. Not one of them looked ready to rise up and battle with all they had. These were Pokémon who knew there was no hope of victory. They knew they were in far, far over their heads.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Victini said, cheery once again. "I heard there was a really strong Charizard locked away somewhere, so I poked around a bit. I was going to save him for 'Phase Two' of my plan, given he supposedly destroyed an entire town by himself, but I think I'll use him now in case you have some secret weapon or tactic that only works against Legendaries."
He cupped his mouth with his tiny hands and shouted to the skies. "Come on down, Chando!"
Wartortle knew it was impossible for his heart to sink further, yet it did. A burning flame broke out of the low cloud layer and descended to the plateau with an earth-shaking roar. It was much louder than even Magon the Salamence's had been at Karprest. Wartortle cringed before the feral might ringing in his ears as he struggled to draw in enough breath from the taut air.
A Charizard pulled up short to circle above the arena on wings of blue. His tail flame burned with life on the tip of his tail. His long neck bent downward, and the Charizard peered down at them all as he circled.
"The power," he howled, "Give me that power again Victini, I must feel it, I must become it! PLEASE!"
This was not the same Charizard that had shared his story with a Squirtle and Cyndaquil from within his prison cell. That Charizard had been pensive, regretful. The Charizard in that quiet gloom had been in full possession of his faculties. This Charizard was out of control. His fearsome claws clenched repeatedly and he flapped his wings with jittery, broken motions.
He's having one of his fits, Wartortle realized. He's completely out of his mind, regressed to an emotional beast seeking destruction. Just like in his story about Port Rein all those years ago. He's Chando now, through and through.
"Only if you do as I say, 'kay?" Victini replied with a finger raised sternly.
"Yes, tell me your desire, I will see it done, TELL ME!" The Charizard's snorted a gout of flame. The flash of light let Wartortle see that his blue eyes were bloodshot and rolling in their sockets. He felt a small chill run down his spine.
"When I give the word, go ahead and unleash all that fury on the Pokémon in front of Articuno. Don't stop until nothing is moving. Kill them if you can. Oh, and wear one of my super rocks. I'm sure you'll love it!" he finished in a sing-song voice before making another talisman seem to appear out of thin air, tied to his hip.
Wartortle watched as Victini rose into the air, offering the talisman to the Charizard. The Legendary watched the Resistance closely for any warning of an attack as he did so. No one in the Pokémon around Wartortle was inclined to prevent the hand-off, and Wartortle himself shared their sentiments. Any chance of victory was dead and gone. It was better to let it happen. To enjoy the show. There was no need to get worked up over a confrontation that could only end one way. The victors would be Victini, the three Legendary Birds wearing talismans, and perhaps the world's toughest Charizard, now also boosted by Victini's power. Wartortle doubted that even the united strength of every Pokémon in Preserve Alpha would be able to defeat their Legendary foes.
Victini squeaked some chuckles. "Let's see how pure, passionate power for power's sake matches up against your precious tactics, Brayden."
Chando roared again, somehow even louder than his first. It was a primal cry with no particular meaning. The talisman rested against his chest as he flapped in place. He sprayed bright flames in an arc that reached almost a hundred feet. Wartortle could feel the heat of the boosted flames from the plateau. He remembered the feeling of that power, that overwhelming flood of energy driving him to action. Regardless of Victini's orders, Chando would be unable to remain still for long. The end would soon arrive.
Zapdos shuffled a bit on the ice, and sparks leaped from her talons. Moltres' fires flared incrementally brighter for a moment. The Legendary Birds watched the Pokémon of the Resistance. Wartortle imagined he could see an eager glint in each of their eyes. Legendary they may be, but all Pokémon loved to battle. Once Victini gave the word, it would all be over.
Everything Wartortle had been working for would be crushed. All the effort Quil and the others had given, worthless in the end. The strategies he'd perfected. The items he'd gathered. The days packed with busy preparations. All of it for nothing. The Resistance would lose, the Legendaries would disperse, and the boosts would never be stopped. Victini would be free to carry out his plan of cleansing the island for humanity.
Yes, it was awful to think about. He wished dearly that it was not so. But both parts of Wartortle knew he'd lost utterly. Mathematically, the combined power of the Legendary Birds and Chando was orders of magnitude larger than his feeble Resistance. His gut told him that this battle was hopeless. Wartortle was proud of what he'd accomplished. What a shame that ultimately, the Resistance was powerless. They were outclassed. Legendaries would always win against ordinary Pokémon. Myths and stories, whether Pokémon or human in origin, were about Legendaries for a good reason; they had the power to change the world. Wartortle did not. Quil did not. None of them did.
Wartortle sighed as he stood. He'd better meet the onslaught on his feet, for the sake of the Resistance. He glanced around, trying to convey an apology in the moments they had left. How sorry he was. How wrong he had been. If he could do it all again, he would not have dragged all of these helpful Pokémon on his insane quest. Now they would suffer because of his foolishness.
He found Quil in the group, the one least deserving of being on this icy plateau before the Legendaries. The one who always saw the best in others, who encouraged them to be all they could be. The one who gave one hundred percent of himself to his endeavors, and then some. The heart and soul of the Resistance. And the one who'd mistakenly believed in Wartortle so many, many times on their journey together. Wartortle felt he could spend a day with Quil and never adequately apologize for the colossal failure he'd been.
Quil met his gaze, through the formation of Pokémon separating them. His brow was furrowed, his mouth a hard line. He rose to his hind legs and shook his head decisively. Wartortle could not hear him, but his lips formed the word 'No'. The Quilava dashed forward, placing himself between the Legendary Birds and the front of the Resistance Pokémon.
"When Wartortle and I started the Resistance on a dirt road between Blindhollow and Cavetown, we made a decision to throw away our personal priorities. We realized that the oppression, imbalance, and suffering that were happening couldn't be dealt with later. We switched the entire focus of our lives to work against the Zapper boost."
The arena listened in tense silence. Wartortle strained to hear Quil's quiet voice over the air's pressure in his ears. Every eye was upon Quil.
"Now here we are. Two ordinary 'mon among so many others who share that brief, naive vision of ours. This is the biggest team the Resistance has ever seen. All our supplies are prepared. We've never had so much potential in one place. The best we could ever hope to give is what we have right now."
"And now is the one time that the Resistance refuses to fight? Why should now be any different? Because our opponents are strong? Sure, they're intimidating. What they can do is scary. I felt it too: the surprise, the awe, the fear. These are 'mon we've heard stories about since the day we hatched. But do you remember what else we grew up hearing? That appearances don't win battles. Size doesn't win battles. Don't surrender, don't give up when you can still fight!"
Wartortle spared a glance to Chando and the Legendaries. The Charizard had taken to circling again, perhaps trying to work off some of his new energy. The Legendary Birds watched Quil without moving, their faces inscrutable. Wartortle was not surprised to witness patience from them, but Victini? That bundle of frenetic energy? A frown played about his small lips, his expression thoughtful.
"None of us expected all of these 'mon to be here," Quil said. "Life is crazy. It takes you places you never dreamed of seeing, and puts you in situations you never wanted to be in. But the source of each boost is in front of us. We couldn't ask for more a more ideal battle. Do you think I'm going to lie down and let this opportunity pass? The chance to sweep clear every request on that board in Team Base in a single moment? To fix the boosts forever? To end all the suffering in these lands? This is our final and most important mission. It's happening right here, and right now."
"If we accept defeat here, we're abandoning all the Pokemon who are counting on us. We're saying that we saw a challenge and we bowed down to it. We're supposed to resist, not submit! Or were we wrong to call ourselves the Resistance?"
Wartortle could sense a shift in the mood of the Pokémon around him. Gareen the Gabite raised his claws to readiness. Bein lifted the tip of his bone from the ground, hefting it onto his shoulder. That instinctual urge to battle was rising to the surface in all of them. Quil's voice was passionate now, and easy to hear.
"I have a burning feeling inside my chest. Something that's more than my fire, as a Flame. Something that's more than my urge to fight. Something that's not just a desire to win, or to say that I defeated the Legendary Birds. It's the feeling that everything is up to me. That this is the most important moment of my life. I know some of you can feel it too, if you look past your fear."
He swept the Resistance with his ruby eyes, completely ignoring the three Legendary Birds standing behind him. Wartortle raised a hand to feel the warmth beneath his scutes. He could feel it. A spark buried beneath his despair.
"Every 'mon in these lands is with us on this plateau of ice, because they all have the same goal. They all want these horrible boosts to end. They all want us to win here. Every Pokemon that matters to you. Every opponent you've ever faced, your families, your friends. Everyone living in the wild, everyone in every town. Everyone you've ever met."
Images of the Pokémon that Wartortle had met along the way flashed in his mind. Keel, the Marshtomp who had taught him to use his element. The Wartortle of Blindhollow who tended the Seed Nursery. Zell, the Buizel who was striving to achieve his potential. Others, so many others.
"What would they say if they saw you cowering like this? If we fail now, all of them will suffer. Are you going to let them down?"
"No," Wartortle heard himself whisper into the cold air. The others around him murmured words as well.
"They need us to fight!" Quil yelled. "They need us to win! This battle is more important any you've ever fought, or ever will fight. Today we're fighting for every one of them!" Quil turned to face Victini and the Legendary Birds.
"Let that burning feeling inside you free!" His fires exploded into being with a low roar. "For the sake of every Pokémon, I will not back down!"
Wartortle's voice joined the shout of defiance that rent the night. Energy surged through him, as if he held one of Victini's talismans in his hand once again. The gears of his mind whirred as he began to see the impending battle as a difficult challenge, not a hopeless tragedy. It was winnable, and he was going to help make that victory happen!
"Item-carriers, to the back! Defensive Pokémon to the front!" Wartortle shouted as he ran to Quil's side. The Resistance scrambled to obey. "Ground-types, you're on Team Zapdos! Rock and Water, Team Moltres! Fire and Steel, Team Articuno! Everyone else, even the teams out in numbers and items!"
Victini rose from Articuno's head. "You don't stand a chance, Brayden. Your pal's pretty words don't change the reality of the situation. I have this crazy Charizard who destroyed a town by himself. I have the three Legendary Birds. All of them are invested with my power. You can't stop me!"
Wartortle ignored him. "Spread out, like we talked about! Your roles, the strategy, it's all the same but now you're three teams with one opponent each! Don't worry about Victini or the Charizard for now!"
We're going to do great once we find Articuno.
The horizon to the east had begun to brighten. He could see the light through the swirling mists at the border of the plateau. Dawn was coming. Before it arrived, Wartortle would see the Resistance successful. The pressure exuding from the Legendary Birds was still present, but Wartortle found that now it was but a mild inconvenience.
We're going to make a difference.
"You'll lose, Brayden!" Victini squealed in his little voice, a voice that ground on Wartortle's nerves. His tone had changed. Now he sounded agitated. His form shimmered and began to disappear. Wartortle did nothing to interrupt the process; the Legendary Birds and Chando were a much greater threat at the moment.
I know it.
"Remember," Wartortle called, "keep your distance! Use your longest range techniques if you have any! Keep the Legendaries spending their time turning around and moving!" The Resistance finished sorting themselves into three groups loosely spread around their side of the plateau. Wartortle backpedaled to the slightly higher ground that the ice near the bowl's edge offered him. He needed to be able to see all the impending battles simultaneously.
"Articuno, Zapdos, Moltres, Chando!" Victini screamed as he vanished. "End them!"
Let's do our best, as always.
"Go ahead and try," Wartortle said under his breath, as his four opponents shrieked and roared their battle-cries.