Eveyrthing had gone to hell the moment Voldemort and Nocturne had decided to reveal themselves once again.

That was all Neil Flaxwood could think as he raced down the alley. Behind him he could hear the footfalls of his pursuers, shouting at him to stop. He fumbled for a moment before sending out his Tanglgrowth, who narrowed her eyes before sending out a thick wall of vines to block those chasing him. He continued on to the dead end before looking around, panting.

"Fucking Snatchers," he muttered to himself, reaching over and stroking his Pokemon's head. "Thanks girl… I am getting too old for this!"

Neil was in his early 40s but at this point he might as well have said that he was in his 50s. His own damn fault… years of enjoying pub food and a nice ale after a hard day had left him with a nice beer belly and the endurance of a Slaking. In fact more than one girlfriend had compared him to that Pokémon… though how lovingly they did so depended on their thoughts about him at the moment. He hadn't thought he was that bad though! Just a bit out of shape but completely manageable! Who didn't pack on a few pounds in their 30s and 40s? The doctor told him he could stand to lose a bit of weight but it had never been anything drastic! Always just a suggestion.

Yet here he was, gasping for air even as doing so made the inside of his throat feel like someone was pouring bleach down it. He rested his hands on his knees and wondered how the fuck he had gotten into this situation.

Oh right. Voldemort and Nocturne.

After the first war (and by fucking Arceus did he hate calling it that! It was THE WAR! That was it… the War! It shouldn't have been the first!) he'd settled into life as best he could in an era of peace. Gotten a job, made friends, caught a few more pokemon, moved twice. Nothing major, just what anyone did as they grew up and became an adult. He settled into a lovely routine and while he hadn't achieved all his dreams… he was happy with who he was. Content.

And then Harry Potter had returned.

Unlike so many in Avalon he didn't blame the kid. It wasn't his fault that Voldemort had a hard-on for him! The boy just wanted to live his life, as far as Neil could tell, and he didn't blame him as that was exactly what he wanted! Hell, the boy had all the more reason to as it sounded like his Pokemon-hating relatives were real shit bags. So getting to go to Hogwarts and make friends and maybe find some spot to snog some girl? Live and let live! It was what Neil was doing!

But as the years had gone on the weird things had begun to crop up. The reports of Potter getting into the odd scraps and scares. A professor dying at Hogwarts. The boy catching a Legenadary and the Ministry being unable to practice the normal controls for such things when a young trainer caught a Pokémon far too powerful for their current skill level. His godfather being one of the Sons of Johto and Potter being involved in two separate incidents involving the long thought dead Regulus Black. Regulus… god, Neil remembered him. Always gave him the creeps.

Then the Grand Trainer Tournament and the event at the Little Haggleton Graveyard. The cries from Potter that Nocturne had returned. That had made Neil look over his shoulder, careful who he spoke to, fearful that they might be Nocturne and remember what he had done during the War, what he had set out to do in the name of justice. But it was the claims that Voldemort wasn't really dead, that he had returned, that had worried Neil greatly.

He'd been on edge two years ago but slowly begun to calm down. Nocturne was causing problems but it was just a fringe group. Some loonies who couldn't accept that they had lost and that things were changed now. Neil began to go out again, not glance at people wondering if they have Yamasks with them…

Then the attack on the Ministry and the proof that Voldemort and Nocturne were back.

Neil had stopped going to the pub at that point. Changed his schedule at work so that he worked more days but less hours. Kissed his weekends goodbye if it meant he didn't have to go out when the sun was down and shadows hid Nocturne Agents wanting to find him. Everyone had been on edge so no one really thought much of him changing his ways. Didn't ask why he was extra paranoid.

Didn't dig into his past.

Then Nocturne had attacked Hogwarts and Potter had sent that message out to the world! Nocturne was back!

He'd quit his job and run at that point. Gone into the forests, hid in the back alleys. Used all the training he'd gotten back during the war to survive. Because he knew it was a matter of time before someone found him-

"Neil Flaxwood!" a voice called out and he looked back as he saw one of the Snatchers had summoned a fire type. Even as his Tanglegrowth hardened the vines with an Iron Defense move he'd taught her they were beginning to snap and break. He looked around desperately… up… he had to get up… "Neil Flaxwood, by Order of the Ministry of Avalon you are under arrest for being a Nocturne Agent! Surrender now!"

Fucking Snatchers!

Ol' Amelia Bones had grown a pair of stones, that was for certain! Back during the first war the Aurors had been a fucking joke. He and the members of his cell had laughed at how pathetic they were. If one even bothered to show up when they did an attack on a store front it was to try and sternly talk to them, to get them to stop, and wag their finger at them before they scampered off, cackling under their masks. Even when things had gotten real bad in the War and people began to fight back Neil had always made sure that he avoided the big blow ups. He wasn't one to attend the calls from the Admins to rally. When forced to show up for a Voldemort speech he was in the very back and left as soon as he could and was careful not to actually say a word so that if there was someone who might know him listening they wouldn't recognize his voice. The massive city-sweeping raids? That hadn't been his bag. It was just him, some buddies, and the little Pokemon centers that hardly attracted any attention. He didn't steal Pokemon, he didn't hurt people. He was so low on the totem pole that no one was interested in even looking for him.

At least… they had been.

But then Potter had sent out that video, Voldemort had made it clear he was back, and now the Ministry was actually hunting down Nocturne Agents. Their elite task force, assembled by Bones herself, was known as the Snatchers. Everyone whispered about them. You'd be at the store or maybe sitting in the park and suddenly they'd teleport in, much like Nocturne used to do back when they were at their full power. But rather than sending out attacks and scaring the Wooloos they would rush someone, grab them before they could protest, and then be gone. Snatched up. Never seen again.

That was the worst thing… not knowing what happened to people.

He'd heard all sorts of rumors. That Avalon was seeking to make a new Sevii and were using the Agents and Grunts as slave labor. That there was some ritual that the Department of Mysteries had discovered that would allow them to destroy Voldemort forever but it required blood sacrifices. That a new legendary had been found but it only ate human flesh so they were appeasing it with Nocturne meat. There were a million whispered stories and they all made Neil's skin crawl.

The Snatchers finally busted through the wall of vines but Neil was long gone… not on top of the roofs, though he'd had his Tanglegrowth create a vine to make it look like they'd gone that way, but rather into the sewers, his grass type recalled and his Pansear sent out to help light his way as he quietly slunk through the damp concrete tunnels.

'Someone talked… someone fucking talked!' he thought to himself. Someone that had known him from his old group must have spilled the info. Probably Mitchell… he had been the one that wanted to move up in Nocturne, had by the end of the War broken away from their group and actually attended the big raids. Neil had never been in Nocturne for the violence of it all… he'd joined because he didn't want to die and the best way to do that was to be on the winning side! 'And yeah, okay, it was fucking fun scaring those shop keeps but at worse we stole some candy bars and broke a few windows!'

Not that that mattered to the Snatchers. He was Nocturne and that was all that mattered. Big or small Bones had decided to round them all up.

'As if life wasn't hard enough already,' he thought to himself bitterly. 'I already had too many people whispering about where I've been when Voldemort sent out the call.' He, like every other member of Team Nocturne, had suddenly stopped what they were doing that night Voldemort had sent the mental command that all his Agents were to attend him in the graveyard of Little Haggleton.

Neil had sweated for three hours after he'd felt that summons while he'd been enjoying a late evening beer, wondering what the fuck he should do. When he'd finally gotten home he'd gone to his bedroom and moved his bed so he could get to the loose floorboard and pry it up, revealing the secret hole where he'd buried his robes and the Pokeball containing his Yamask. He'd always been very careful during the raids to only use Yamask… NOTHING that could be traced back to him. Oh, he'd been tempted a few times but the niggle of doubt, the urge to hedge his bets, had always remained and when Lily Potter had done the impossible and killed Voldemort Neil had been thrilled for that. But he had been summoned again. He knew that all he had to do was put on the robe, send out the Yamask, and follow the plan that had worked so well the last time: hang in the back, leave the first moment he could, don't hurt anyone or get involved in anything major. He'd always figured that if he were arrested they'd give him a slap on the wrist because… well… what had he done? But this… this was something different. Something major. He'd just felt it.

There had been only one option.

The robe had burned quickly enough, once he'd poured some booze on it and tossed it into the trash can. With Yamask that had been a touch harder; he'd first sent it out, then released it, then caught it with a black market Pokeball, one he'd been given the first time he'd joined Nocturne. It was untraceable and he was supposed to use it to catch Pokemon that belonged to people that had just died. Instead he'd held onto them and now he was able to use it on Yamask, capturing it before he'd bagged it up and sent it to a shelter with a note saying he couldn't care for it anymore. If they even bothered to look they wouldn't have been able to tell that the Yamask had belonged to him. He'd thought he'd been in the clear.

But that didn't mean he hadn't kept looking over his shoulder nervously, wondering if someone from the team was going to come up to him and ask him where eh'd been.

He'd seen reports of people disappearing a few years ago and knew from the names that they had been the mid level agents. The ones that hadn't been Admins or Commanders but also hadn't been the measly foot soldiers who were given commands and expected to obey. He knew they weren't being picked up by the Aurors, as they'd have made a larger deal out of it (or at least at one time they would have; the Snatchers were honestly like Nocturne in how they took someone and they just quietly disappeared, never to be seen again) so it had to be Nocturne themselves, deciding to find out why 'loyal members to the cause' weren't responding to the summons.

He shook his head. 'Hunted on all sides. Aurors want me dead, Nocturne is going to want me dead, probably there is a third party out there that I've never even heard of that wants me dead… this is just fucking ridiculous.'

Neil needed to get away, and not merely by sneaking off through a sewer or finding a flop house to settle into for a couple of days. No, he needed to get out of Avalon completely.

'Maybe someplace warm, further south,' he thought to himself as he followed a bend in the tunnel and came to another ladder that led to the surface. He considered that for a moment before shaking his head; far too close to where he had been so there was a risk of running into the Snatchers. Honestly he was probably going to have to spend the entire day in the sewers, maybe even sleep there, before he could be certain it was safe to head back up to the surface. 'Hoenn. There are plenty of islands there. I'd need a flying type to get me to the main cities for shopping but that shouldn't be that hard to get. Set up maybe at a resort, they are always looking for help. I could be a janitor, cleaning up the hotels… days off I could find a little patch of beach all my own and enjoy the sun and surf. Or Alola… they have ties to Kanto and they are staying out of the war. I could open a little stand, sell shelder shells I find-'

Click Click Click Click Click

Neil froze, all thoughts fleeing his mind as he heard the sound echoing through the sewer. The tale-tell sound of heels on cement. Someone… someone was down here.

He looked at his Pansear who nodded, dimming the flames he had summoned to light their way till Neil was left in the darkness, his body pressed against a slight depression in the wall as he strained his ears to listen for more movement.

'Maybe it's just a worker,' he thought to himself. 'Or a Pokemon… one wearing boots. Just stay hidden long enough and they'll go away.'

"That was impressive," a voice called out, distorted by some kind of voice modulator that made it hard to determine if the user was male or female. "The way you avoided the Snatchers. They are still looking on the roofs, thinking you must have climbed up and are now looking for a place to hide. I don't know if they'll be smart enough to ever check down here but I'd say you are in the clear from them." There was a pause. "But not from me."

Neil forced himself to breath only when he had to and when he did it was in the softest little streams; slow, steady, consistant. Nothing that would give him away.

"I know you are still down here," the voice said. It was echoing and bouncing about so he couldn't tell what direction it was coming from. Hell, at times it sounded closer and other times farther away! It was driving him mad but he forced himself not to even twitch as he stood there. By Arceus his muscles were beginning to ache. He had been walking around perfectly fine but now forced to stand in the same spot he felt the pressure on his feet building and it was making it feel like they were slowly being compressed, muscles bundled up tighter and tighter with every second that went by. "You shouldn't have dimmed the light… that gave you away." Neil cursed at that but otherwise remained still, thankful that his Pansear was staying quiet as well, sensing they were in trouble. "Of course even if you hadn't… I've already seen you lurking around here."

Neil grit his teeth.

"Also, the sound of my boots you were hearing? That was me tapping a wall. I got bored."

With that the figure struck.

Neil dove out of the way as a sword, of all fucking things, slashed out at him, almost catching his shoulder. He rolled on the damp scum covered floor, taking a bit longer than he would have liked to get up thanks to his bulk but finally managing to do so. Pansear was instantly running along his wrist and with a giggle opened his mouth and fired off a blast of flames that shot through the sewer tunnel. Neil had the brief impression of a figure in a dark coat and then they were gone. He whipped about, eyes wide as he searched; he could feel his Pansear tense on his arm, ready to attack the moment they spotted their attacker.

"You dodge good for a man out of the game," the voice taunted and Neil spun around only to find nothing but shadows. "Of course Nocturne was never really big on training their grunts on how to properly fight. More of 'toss them in the river and see if they swim' kind of people I've noticed."

Neil, startled by that comment, found himself blurting out, "You aren't Nocturne?"

"Heh. No. Not the Snatchers either but nowadays there really isn't a difference between the two."

That made Neil pause and he decided to try and keep the figure talking, if only to stall while he tried to work out a plan of attack. "What do you mean?"

"The Ministry has fallen," his stalker informed him and while their voice was distorted he sensed an almost cheerful undertone to their words. "Didn't you wonder why the Aurors are suddenly acting rather aggressive against Nocturne Agents?"

Neil reeled at that little bit of news. "But… that makes no sense. If the Ministry is under Nocturne control-"

"I said it had fallen, not that it was under Nocturne control. There is a difference." The figure was silent for several moments and just as he was beginning to wonder if they had left they spoke up once more. "Nocturne is loyal to Voldemort but he isn't loyal to any of you. There is no purpose for you, no need for you, in the new world order he setting out to create. Well… other than handy enemies he can use to cast blame on all that has happened."

"What?"

"Come now!" the figure said with a laugh, their chuckles dancing along the stone walls and ceiling of the sewer tunnel and making Neil shudder at the sound of it. "It's the exact same thing he did when he formed Nocturne! He found a group of people that felt like they had been oppressed. In that case it was the old families who didn't like the changes they saw coming to society as more and more of the Lower Class and New Bloods began to demand more and more say in how the region was run. He whispered first that they were greedy and wrong… and then began to pin every problem that the region had on them. It was the New Bloods that caused businesses to fail. Crime to go up. Morals to become decayed. Your son didn't get the easy job not because he was a pathetic sack of shit you had never taught to do anything! It was those filthy peasants had stolen what was his! Your daughter was a whore because of their rock music and their lewd movies. Isn't… isn't it time that we stood up for true Avalon values?"

Neil had heard those speeches. Had known people that bought into them. But not him. He had joined because he was a bored young man that wanted to stick it to the shop keeps and arrogant prigs who looked down their noses at him when he came in to buy a nudie mag.

"But things have changed… there isn't really a market for such beliefs anymore. The pendulum… she just keeps swinging back and forth and now we're on the other side of the arc. It isn't in his interest anymore to preach to the Old Bloods… Voldemort needs the New Bloods on his side."

"You… you're preaching that shit about Voldemort being some ghost that wants to take over Harry Potter!" Neil exclaimed. He'd heard rumors and whispers about that since the graveyard but had always brushed them aside. They were just people being people, taking simple things and making them far more complex than they really were. Voldemort wasn't some immortal boogeyman… he was just a man. Yes, one who had a weird fixation on Potter but still-

Suddenly he was on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. A knee was pressing against spine while a strong hang wrapped around the back of his neck, forcing his face against the disgusting wet floor. His Pansear hissed and chattered but then was silenced. He grimaced but then, even in his compromised position, let out a sigh of relief when he saw his Pokemon was just out cold, lying a few feet away.

"Honestly it doesn't matter to me what you think. What matters is what you are going to do next."

Neil struggled a bit but he knew very quickly there was no hope of him getting free of the hold. "What… what are you talking about?" He wiggled a bit. "You… you aren't Nocturne. You aren't the Ministry. Who are you?"

"Just a grieving child," the figure said, twisting his wrist painfully behind his back. "Like so many of the other ones that fill Avalon now thanks to you."

"I didn't hurt anyone."

"But who did you fucking help?" the figure hissed and Neil set his jaw, realizing that in their mind's eyes a failure to stand up against Nocturne made him no different than the worst killers the group had. "But you now have a chance to do one good thing in your miserable little life. You are going to deliver a message for me." They moved his wrist so that it was now under their other leg and for a moment he wondered what was going on before he felt blinding pain in the back of his neck, right where his skull met it.

"FUCK!" he screamed.

"Oh, but you don't mind it if you stick a girl with your pricker, do you?" the figure teased. "And just like you I left a little baby behind… but this one won't take 9 months to appear." The figure shifted his head again. "I just injected you with some nanobots. Don't worry… they're dormant at the moment."

At the Moment.

That was the key phrase.

"If you do as I say… then you get to live out the rest of your life however you see fit. If you don't? If you try and fuck with me in any way shape or form?" The figure pressed their finger tips against his skull before spreading them out. "They wake up and begin seeking out stuff to eat. Brain being eaten from the inside is a… terrible way to die."

Neil felt warmth around his crotch but didn't fucking care or feel embarrassed in the slightest. Frankly he had other things he needed to worry about! "What… what do you want from me?" he wheezed out.

"Something much more moral than you agreed to do for Nocturne, if that is your concern," his attacker said.

"I never hurt anyone," Neil complained.

"You supported Nocturne. You wore their colors and gave them your approval. Preach your pathetic little claims all you wish I don't give a damn about them. People like you, the cowards that allow darkness to swell in Avalon? You disgust me." The figure drove their knee into his back just a bit harder. "But now you are going to actually do something good for the first time in your pathetic little life." The attacker leaned down and hissed, "you are going to go to Hogwarts and demand a meeting with Lucius Malfoy."

"Are… are you insane?" Neil whispered. "That's a fucking death sentence!" Hogwarts was where Dumbledore had decided to begin housing the Nocturne Admins that were too powerful and important in Avalon society to send to a simple jail. He and the Ministry had decided to take the greatest failure of Avalon's society, where Nocturne had given the 'Defenders of the Light' a black eye, and make it a symbol of how they weren't going to curl up into a ball and give up. They were going to fight this time. "I go there and I'll be captured!"

"No you won't. Voldemort is in control, remember? All a false flag."

Neil wanted to shake his head. "That… that doesn't matter!" he whined. "No one demands an audience with an Admin!"

"You are."

"...if you want me to die just kill me yourself," he spat bitterly.

The attacker slammed his head against the ground. "I want you to die. You very well might by my hand. But right now I need you alive to deliver a message."

"And what is that message?" Neil asked, realizing that he was going to do what she asked. Because even if there was a chance this would get him killed… a very good chance… a chance was still better than a certainty and the attacker was surely kill him if he didn't agree.

"You are going to tell him to come to Godric Hollow-"

"I think they changed it back to Griflet's Hollow."

"Whatever," the stalker, said, annoyed. "You are going tell him to go there. He is going to head to the ruins of the Potter Family Gym. He will come alone."

"He won't come," Neil warned her. "He'll know this is a trap."

"I want him to know it's a trap. I want him to merrily march into it. And he will." The attacker leaned in even closer and whispered, "Tell him… his wife's killer wants to finish things."