Pre-chapter A/N; Since everyone is asking for one of these, here's a breakdown of the character names before we get into things

Broly - Kleavor

Quicksilver - Pidgeot (dead)

Kisame - Milotic

Igneel - Charizard

Kenpachi - Tyranitar

Ino - Gardevoir

Snorlax - Snorlax

Tsunade - Clefable

Gai - Hakomo-o

Magnezone - Magnezone

Hashirama- Trevenant

Special thanks to the folks on pa-atreon for making this possible. Now without further ado let's get into it.

I smiled to myself as I continued to run away from Agatha and her Pokémon. Now, my trap had failed. It hadn't even triggered, not really at least. Gengar had ignored the Solar Beam like it was nothing, and Agatha had somehow been able to break through the bindings Hashirama had placed around her. Our attempt to separate them had failed before it even began, so now we were back to square one. Not really square one since we had valuable data. I meant to say valuable data, but I mean that we now know nothing we try will have much of an effect against them. Nothing we'd try without exhausting ourselves at least. Hashirama still had quite a few tricks up his branches, guaranteed to work on Gengar, but I was loath to use them. We still had more stages to pass through, and stooping to such advantages now might as well be an admission of defeat. I'd thought myself superior to Agatha. Why would I yield to her?

It took me almost tripping over some loose foliage to realize that I was being an idiot. What the heck was I thinking actually? Insanity had finally caught me out? I scowled as I turned to face the old woman and the ghost by her side.

"We've seen this trick already, boy. Not impressed," she said in that cackle of hers that had been ringing in my ears since the moment this test started. All around us, trainers were making progress, eliminating each other, and moving through the forest I'd practically trapped us in. And here I was, facing off against an old woman who seemed to be pursuing me with all the dogged intensity of a scorned woman or jilted lover. It drove me just a bit crazy, and I issued orders to Hashirama at the speed of aura. Not thought, since I couldn't actually share those. All I could share was aura. It was how Pokémon actually understood each other, so you could say I learned Poké-speak.

"What do you actually want, Agatha?" I tried asking again. This time, I was genuinely curious. Thirty minutes into this trial, and the woman still kept coming after me. She hadn't veered off or even ceased her pursuit for a second. I would have been worried for her health if she didn't seem determined to make her last act on this world ending me.

Hashirama tore himself out of the ground with savage intensity. He looked terrifying, if I was being completely honest. His branches were blackened in the spots where Gengar had gotten to him. His previously smooth body had grown all sorts of thorns and short branches as the battle went on, and he had to stress himself even more and more to keep himself going. Less energy to maintaining his physical form and more to fight the monster seeking our death.

A claw made entirely of shadow shot out of one of the blackened branches, making its way towards the poison type that had been so problematic. I smiled at how the attack was larger and faster than ever before.

Ghost type, psychic type, and dark type energies were often called the ethereal trinity. They played off each other in ways no other elements out there did. Each and every one of them worked in different ways, powered by different states of mind. For psychic energy, it was logic and calm. One needed a clear mind to use psychic energy. It's why human psychics were so rare. Our emotions weren't really suited to being shunted aside like actual Pokémon psychics' were. We weren't really built for it in the same way they were. For dark type energy, it was a strange void. I couldn't explain it.

Not really. It was why dark types were so different. They represented a sort of mid-point between dark and ghost types, having the power to somehow mess with all the other types and somehow still being advantaged against the others. They required a strange balance of calm and malice that the other two etherealki types didn't.

Ghost-type energy, though. Pure unadulterated malice was the only requirement. It's why ghost types were feared above dark types. They were different, and there were so many theories and rumors circling around about them that it was difficult to distinguish fact from fiction, especially when the former tended to be even wilder than the latter. Truth is stranger than fiction, indeed.

All that was to say that Shadow Claw, as a ghost-type move, was supercharged by all the malice that suffused Hashirama's body right now. Getting injured repeatedly, while trying to fight through bone-chilling exhaustion, would leave even the lightest of chaps in a right foul mood. Considering Hashirama was literally from a species specially predisposed to malice, was it any surprise that he was overflowing with the stuff?

The Shadow Claw cleaved straight through Gengar. Even transforming to gas at the last instant wasn't enough to leave him completely unfazed as his screams rang through the clearing. I shared the feeling of satisfaction with Hashirama as we enjoyed the sounds of the creature that had done so much to hurt us being placed on the other end. I'd hesitated to move into using purely ghost-type attacks since Hashirama's mental state wasn't the best for it. It had never become a problem since he was usually more than strong enough for it, but as tired as both of us were, and as angry as we were, messing around with ghost-type moves was a bad idea. Very bad idea.

Gengar reformed. We attempted another claw, but this time, it was ready. I closed my eyes in irritation as I watched the attack fail to work a second time. It simply dodged the attack fluidly and continued to avoid the rest of our attempts to tag it. Fuck. I sent the next orders through the aura bond and watched Hashirama switch up.

This attack would be even more risky, considering how tired he'd been getting and the fact that Shadow Claw only required a simple outlet for malice he already possessed. No risk, no reward though.

He took a deep breath, or the closest thing to a breath that a tree could take- sometimes, I worried about how many of my mannerisms my Pokemon were beginning to pick up- and fired off a veritable barrage of Shadow Balls. He seemed to be a fucking Gatling gun of attacks as he covered the area around the malevolent ghost quite thoroughly. I guess that was evidence that the fight had gotten to him. The air was choked with malice. Perhaps it was my aura sensitivity going up, perhaps it was how tired Hashirama was, perhaps it was the fact that he was releasing so much power all at once, but the clearing was suffocating to me. It was almost painful, how much negativity was in the air itself. It was almost tragic how much it felt like I was being continuously choked and overpowered by my own Pokemon's aura.

I stopped paying attention to the battle, unable to focus as I was. I didn't even notice when Hashirama disengaged for a bit to wrap me up in a branch and attach me to the top of one of the taller trees a good distance from the battle. When I came to, I wasn't shocked to find the Gengar on the back foot. It had put up a great fight. But Hashirama was stronger, more youthful, and could fucking regenerate some of the damage he suffered. Eventually, there was just one Pokemon in the clearing. Hashi had ended the fight by wrapping his entire body in the malevolent ghost-type aura and wading right into Gengar's gas cloud. I couldn't see what had happened, but I knew at the end of it, the cloud exploded from within and the Gengar's unconscious body lay on the floor. I smiled in pride, relief, and just fucking ecstasy. It was finally over. Agatha's screams brought me no shortage of joy at what was going on. It finally felt like I was an elite. It finally felt like I knew what I was doing, for the first time since I started this trial.

XXXXXX- Unknown

Mother had called them Gods. Father had called them Demons. They were both right. Elite-level trainers were something else. When I signed up to possibly represent Kanto in the Tournament of Power, I hadn't had high hopes of making it through. I couldn't deceive myself that I was the slightest bit on the level of the kind of trainers people predicted to be the forerunners of the tournament. I could barely even reliably beat a Gym Leader's main team as I was now. But I signed up anyway. I signed up to gain experience, keep my skills sharp, and maybe learn a thing or two.

I can't deny some part of me fantasized about passing the selection tournament and representing Kanto on that stage. Some part of me had considered it possible to make it through all the elite-level trainers and somehow end up fighting for the safety and integrity of my homeland. That part of me was long dead at this point. It was dead and gone, and I could only blame one person, Donnell Oak. When we fought, he'd barely even paid me the slightest bit of attention as he dispatched me with that fighting dragon-type of his. He barely even met my eyes as his Pokemon made mine look like a fucking hatchling. I'd entertained dreams and thoughts of one day getting strong enough to take revenge for the humiliation, but now, if I was being completely honest with myself, there was no fucking chance in hell. I made it here and planned to seek him out, but then he made a fucking forest with his grass type. He turned flat grassland into an entire forest with only one move, and only one Pokemon, while still having enough energy with that Pokemon to fight off an actual Elite Four member.

Let me not even get into the fight between Oak and Agatha. It had been something for the record books, how the Elite Four member hunted him down with a savage intensity, and how he spent as much time running as he did fighting. I'd thought it was finally the end of the road for the arrogant bastard, but I couldn't have proven myself more wrong. Not only did he somehow beat the Elite Four member, but he was still standing at the end of it, and his Pokemon still looked ready to keep fighting.

Sure, one of its branch-arms was pretty much withered to the core, and it had dozens of cuts leaking some strange green fluid, and was taking deep panting breaths. Any idiot would mistake it for a Pokemon on its last legs, but not me. Those eyes had something in them. Something that told me there was more in that Pokemon than I could see.

Donnell started walking away, and I stowed my binoculars before continuing to follow from a distance. Rapidash had initially found it difficult to traverse the forest, but Oak and Agatha had managed to level half of it in their battle, so she had a bit more breathing space to hit her stride. Of course, we were only moving for a few minutes before Oak was forced to stop again. I got out my binoculars and focused on his new assailants before taking a gulp of fear. The explosive twins from Cinnabar. I was beginning to feel a bit sad for the teenager at this point. Poor kid just can't catch a break, can he? The twins were famous. Prodigies that had joined ACE straight after finishing third and fourth place respectively in the circuit six years ago. They were mean, brutal, and experienced. I still remembered my first-ever match against one of them, Aegon. His Typhlosion had threatened to burn Rapidash even back then. A fire type so powerful that its flames posed a threat to a fellow fire type. And his brother's Typhlosion was just as powerful.

I wondered for a few seconds as to what they were doing here. They might have grown up in Kanto, but both their parents were Johto aristocracy. I mean, not just anyone could get two Typhlosions for their pair of twins. Of course, I couldn't dwell on that too long because they all moved right into combat stances. I rewound the video feed through my binoculars and chanced using the earpiece so I could hear what had been said to set them off so quickly.

"I really don't have the time or the desire to deal with the both of you right now. I'm sure you must be hotshots in your little corner of the pind, but as tired as I am now, I'll whip both of you into submission without my Pokémon even breaking a sweat. For your own good, I advise you to get the fuck out of here," Oak had said, making his assailants bolt into action nearly instantly. If the boy had one talent beyond being a badass trainer, it had to be pissing people off. For the life of me, I couldn't see why he'd have ever thought saying that to them was anything even slightly resembling a good idea. His Pokémon was injured, and he was still picking fights. I guess big brother had been just as right as mother and father. Elite trainers are out of their fucking minds.

The Typhlosion to the left was the first to move into motion, the flames on its back spiked as it used them as some kind of propeller in its charge at the Trevenant. Oak looked bored as his grass type dodged the attack before creating a tree from the ground that wrapped around the fire type, seeking to trap it. It roared as it broke through the branches. The Typhlosion's brother (?)- Pokenet was sure both fire types were twins as their trainers were- released a flamethrower right at the Champion's son's Pokémon that was completely negated by a green shield of energy. It shocked me that this was the first time the Pokémon was even bringing out that move in this trial. Protect was every elite's bread and butter. And consequently, every trainer worth their salt had a means of dealing with it.

For the twins, it was clear they had unstoppable power. The other Typhlosion bolted through the flamethrower, attempting to consume the shield before lashing out with its own fist. From my vantage point, I couldn't spot any cracks, but the Typhlosion had to have felt something in that hit that emboldened it to keep trying. I was a bit dumbfounded that the shield remained strong after four more hits, but on the fifth hit, the shield suddenly disappeared, causing the Typhlosion to overextend itself and almost fall to the ground. It caught itself just barely and just in time to catch a wood hammer to the face. I winced in sympathy as the powerful attack looked to rearrange the fire type's face. The other Typhlosion, having since stopped its attack to take a breath, barreled into motion with a rollout, sending the mass of fire, aggression, and muscle rolling right at the exhausted ghost. This time, it just dug into the ground to avoid the first pass and met the second pass by rearranging the ground into a ramp. The fire type didn't even notice the change in time and was sent flying into the sky, unable to control itself.

Upon Oak's barked orders, the grass type turned right towards the falling Typhlosion and leveled an arm right at it. As blue motes of light began to gather into an orb in front of the hand, I knew what the attack was nearly instantly: Hyperbeam. The attack practically sailed through the air and collided with the falling Typhlosion, surely knocking it out. The trainer must have agreed with me since his Pokeball flashed out and returned the Pokemon the moment the attack hit.

The second Typhlosion had somehow managed to overcome its daze and stood up. Its face was in bad shape, but it still looked ready to fight. Oak just spread his arms wide in a "come get some" gesture, and the other twin made the wise decision of returning his Pokemon and moving with his brother, both of them forfeiting from the trial so simply. Oak looked to breathe a sigh of relief as they left. I could see it in the way the Trevenant could barely continue to stand tall; it was getting even more tired. It was almost my time to strike. Of course, that was when another assailant came looking for the elite trainer in our midst.

I could understand the appeal of seeking him out. Everyone wanted to be the one to prove that Donnell Oak was overrated. Everyone wanted to get the honor of showing the world that Donnell Oak wasn't the only great talent Kanto produced in two decades, as some media outlets had taken to styling him. And the temptation to take him down just grew as the trial went on. After all, he only had one member of his monster team on hand, and that was a Pokemon that had created the forest we all stood in before battling Agatha's Gengar in what looked like a death battle and barely coming out of the other side intact, but very much scathed. What was the guarantee that anyone would ever get an opportunity as good as this one to face the bastard?

His present assailant, a girl a few years younger than myself, had a Pidgeot by her side. Bold choice. This time, Oak didn't even bother with words. As the Pidgeot flew for his pokemon, vines shot out of the Trevenant's body, catching the flying type mid-flight and keeping a tight grip on its wings. The Pidgeot's screams echoed through the forest, as the vines began to both squeeze and pull. The vines seemed to creak with the strength with which they were being pulled, the strength they were exerting on the poor flying type's body. The screams intensified as I heard the first bit of ripping. Even Oak was shocked. "Hashirama. Hashi. That's enough," he shouted at his Pokemon, but the ghost type was beyond reaching, even for its trainer. Nothing worked. Even when Oak walked up to the tree's body and began trying to get its attention by nagging it with his fists, the ghost did not stop.

I was treated to a front-row seat of what it looked like to watch a Pidgeot's wings get ripped off. The first sound beyond the screams to sound out was the tearing that accompanied the first rupture in the bird's screams. I don't know how I resisted the urge to double over and vomit. I don't know how Oak just stood there and watched. I don't know when I began to cry.

There were a lot of things I didn't know or understand. But what I did know was simple: Elite trainers weren't gods or even demons. Nothing so ethereal and grandiose. They were men just like you or me, and men could be monstrous. Men were almost always monstrous.

XXXX - THE PROFESSOR

I watched Charizard and Dragonite duke it out in the skies above the ranch, while Nidoking and Alakazam spent their time down here, working on individual control of the Dark-type element. Nidoking's species was special for their unique ability to learn moves from other types almost as well as a Normal-type could. It was special, and with Alakazam's psychic power, he could also learn moves at similar speeds. They weren't learning moves but improving control and efficiency, but even that was aided by their gifts. A fascinating effect to look into, and I added it to the ever-growing list of things I had to consider. I couldn't really train my team for the tournament, not the way Donnell or any others could.

Pokemon were delightful creatures, capable of explosive growth in virtually every respect, but eventually, that growth would begin to slow. Training would yield diminishing returns. I retired as champion when, after a whole year of training, my Pokemon were barely demonstrably stronger than they had been at the beginning of the year. I was at the summit of where my Pokemon could go in terms of strength.

As a younger man, fooled into bias by the kind of growth my own team had shown, I'd proudly proclaimed to the ceiling that the only thing holding back a Pokemon's strength was its trainer's ambition. Now, I realize that every Pokemon is born with a ceiling, a limit to their strength defined by a broad spectrum of things, from the Pokemon's species to their ancestry, their diet as youths, and even how they are trained in their formative years. It's why I was so hungry to see where Donnell would manage to take his team. He'd avoided most of the mistakes I'd fallen into in my youth, and just had a whole host of factors working for him, not the least of them being a generous amount of luck.

I'd been able to look up the genealogy of some of his pokemon I could find, and I was more than a little bit impressed. He had the child of a champion level dragon in Igneel, the offspring of years of genetic modification and years of selective breeding in Ino, and the product of one of the only foreign pokemon to set up shop in the Fuchsia forests and survive for near a decade in Kenpachi, and those were the only members of the team I could find any information on. I'm more than willing to bet the rest of his team had similar pedigrees going for them. The kind of explosive growth he was playing around with was most unusual.

All these things meant I'd hit the peak of where I could reasonably take my team, nearly a decade ago. Any training I did after then was purely to maintain their strength and I'm ashamed to say I allowed the rigours of scholarship and research to take over my life completely. So completely, that I'd neglected my team just a bit. They were still strong, but not as strong as they'd been even as recently as five years ago. Dragonite was the only one who'd been able to maintain his relative level of strength.

The good thing was that since we already hit those heights, getting there again was just a matter of training and practice. They still had the strength, they were just a little bit less efficient. Just a millisecond or two slower, just that small tiny bit less sharp and direct in their attacks. By the time of the tournament, we would be ready. We had to be. There wasn't much of a choice open to us.

I turned away from my training pokemon and looked at the beeping watch on my wrist. It had begun alerting me a few minutes ago when Agatha had sought out Donnell during the trials. I had been against the entire thing from the beginning, but I still supported the idea and proposed it like it was my own. Why? Charles Goodshow owes me one now.

Besides, I could see the thought process behind the move very clearly. He wanted all the personal issues that might exist between the various trainers cleared up before the Tournament of Power, and he felt this would be an easy way to do it while generating broadcast revenue. It was more the revenue than the personal issues that motivated him, but as long as I got my cut and it achieved the goal of removing people who had clear aggressions against each other from the board, then it was fine by me. I also couldn't deny that the allure of having that man eliminated was also one of the lures to agreeing. No one had succeeded yet, but he was getting a new attacker every other minute. It was only a matter of time.

A/N; Done with the chapter. Yes I am. Done. Doneeeeeeee. How are you guys doing? Thank you so much for sticking with me through all this.

We've got the next seven chapters available on pa-treon, and you can read all of them right now just by heading to the link on my profile or searching for my username up there. I also have a new story I'm working on, so you can also check that out here.