Tearing the Heavens

by Cepel

A young soldier from a once great family is thrust into the future and ends up in an unfamiliar and bizarre world, where his presence can cause complications both ancient and modern. He inadvertently becomes a trainer through mere misunderstanding and sets off in a journey to discover his own self and where he stands in a world that isn't his own.

63. Spanners

The world seemed to stop, moving at a trickle's pace as onlookers and operatives alike could only watch as the barrel of the gun lifted, moving upward in what seemed like an eternal few seconds. Sounds faded and only a noiseless void was left behind. Cold sweat ran down skin and adrenaline filled the bloodstream, with the steady beat of the heart crashing in the chest like a gong.

And just like that, those few eternal moments passed—and the world sped up again, coming to a crashing, screeching halt after the crack of a pistol shot buried a bullet in the Zebstrika's brain.

On the rooftops and within the crowd, the operatives already began to move, already accustomed to highly tense situations. Most were still in shock.

Riven clenched his teeth. History might've had a tendency to repeat itself, but hell if he was going to let it keep doing that. If this was fate, then he'd make damn sure to get a stick and royally shove said stick right up its ass.

Eyes narrowed at the gym leader, drawing up theoretical time windows. Unova's star wasn't going out today.

Riven reversed the grip on a sword, angling the blade up, ready to throw. There was no way that he'd be able to throw Efrain down from the height at which he was at. Not in time to stop the next shot, anyway—which was already being lined up with Elesa's head. He wouldn't be fast enough, but Baron would.

"Wait! Prime-" Yates called.

"Take him down," Riven ordered, without a moment's hesitation. The instructions were clear.

The Gallade disappeared, right as Leo Jennings began to point the gun at Elesa.

A green hand materialized as a Gallade appeared in a pink flash of a teleport, gripping the boy's extended hand by the wrist. A jarring and sickening crack was heard as Baron snapped the bones in the kid's wrist with a single motion.

Jennings screamed as the pistol fell uselessly on the floor, shots ringing out from it as it did.

Extending a green blade outwards from his right arm, Baron impaled the trainer on the blade, lifting him from the ground momentarily. Blood trickled out of his mouth as the blade perforated his lung; eyes widened in fear and his face twisted in pain, screaming coming to an abrupt halt.

On the giant screens, Jynx and Shuppet flinched momentarily. So did the entire crowd.

Baron pulled away, dropping Leo Jennings on the ground of the stage, his body landing with a simple thump. He turned to see if the gym leader was hurt, watching with a pang of sorrow and guilt as Elesa shakily held her Zebstrika in her arms. She'd fallen to her knees, blinking repeatedly at the sight.

"He's gone…" She murmured in shock, cradling her pokemon's neck in her arms. The weight of his head felt like a boulder as her hands shook. Blood stained her white skin, trickling down her arm and onto the floor. As shock receded and settled, a very different emotion formed, both stronger and purer—a cold fury. "They killed him—killed Lancer. R-right in front of me!" She clenched a fist so hard her blood almost stopped flowing into it. "Those Sayre supporters... They won't get away with this. I'll make them wish they stayed in Sinnoh."

Anger blazed in her eyes despite the forming tears, with a dim undertone of sadness beneath the blaze of emotion. It hit Baron, astonishing him with the intensity of it. His chest burned, the feelings overwhelming even for him. Seeing her like this was jarring, considering her face was everywhere on the billboards, brightly smiling—a stark contrast to the rage she was demonstrating now. She wasn't just a gym leader or an icon held on a tall pedestal, she was a person that thought and felt and was human.

"I need my League team," she snarled, looking up at Baron. "Get me to them. Now."

Breaking away from his astonishment, he kneeled down in front of her, holding out a hand. I understand, but first I need to get you away from here, help will be here short-

Murderous thoughts seeped into his mind, putting him on alert. Shooting to his feet, he fell into a defensive stance. Focusing, red eyes widened as Elesa's security team turned around to escort her out.

Behind them the protestors reached into their coats.

No, stop! He called out telepathically. Don't turn your back!

A hailstorm of bullets followed as the Plasma supporters abandoned their acts completely, pulling out high caliber weapons and pistols of their own. When the bullets ceased, her entire security team lay dead, with only few of their pokemon surviving, sustaining heavy wounds.

Holding his arms up in a cross, the swirling cocoon of protective energy kept Elesa safe from the gunfire, but Baron grimaced when he saw several of the would-be Plasma supporters begin to take out pokeballs and reload their firearms.

He could protect Elesa from gunfire, but against other pokemon, and with that many opponents, he couldn't ensure her safety. There was also the fact that he couldn't do anything offensive with the shield up. The Protect would wear off soon, and with each consecutive use its power diminished.

When he saw a Cofagrigus and a Liepard emerge from their pokeballs, he cursed mentally, reinforcing and strengthening his shield. No choice but to stay on the defensive while help arrived. Hopefully in time.

Holding firm, he grunted as two shadow balls merged and exploded in a flare of shadows against the Protect, forming deep cracks along the rim of the shield, spreading outward from the center of the impact. Again, he reinforced the shield, repairing the cracks within while struggling to maintain the failing form of the barrier, given its size. Another blast of shadow balls made contact, and the barrier nearly shattered, pushing Baron backwards.

Another reinforcement and the two pokemon and their masters attempted to flank around, abruptly coming to a halt when a crimson blade embedded itself into the floor in front of them.

Baron couldn't help but grin darkly, grateful for the respite.

A yellow eye opened on the blade, prompting some of the trainers to take a wary step back. In a blur of movement, a dark figure in a mask appeared, holding a twin of the blade in the ground. Three trainers turned to face him, fumbling for their weapons.

"A person? He-he has swords? What the f—"

One of the smarter ones in the back panicked, face contorted in fear after recognizing the pokemon and sizing Riven up. A regular trainer this was not. "GET AWAY FROM-"

Riven hissed, not about to let the trainers summon more pokemon. Efrain, overwatch.

The embedded sword dislodged itself and flew above him as he turned his body, gripping the other in his hand and slicing through the air in a rotating slash.

A crimson sword carved through one of protestors, slashing through him from shoulder to hip. Ducking low, Riven spun on his heel, angling the blade to prepare for a stab. The same blade ran through the next before he could shoot him, leaving the sword in him while he lunged towards the next poor bastard in his way. A knife flashed out of his coat, tearing into the third's throat as he fumbled for pokeballs. Within seconds, three lay at his feet, a bloody mess on the stage floor.

Walking up to the second, he pulled the sword out of the man's stomach like it was second nature, completely ignoring the cries of agony.

Riven turned and straightened, casually tilting his head at the rest of the group, visor and mask covering all but his mouth. Visibly sighing, he feigned boredom and twirled the bloody sword in his right hand, flicking blood onto the floor and settling into the opening form of sword's dance. He put a finger to his forehead, looking back as he did so.

Taking the cue, Baron dissolved the shield and held Elesa in his arms, quickly teleporting her away to a group of UFO operatives on the roof. Below, the crowds had descended into full blown chaos after the bloody display and the murder of Elesa's Zebstrika, with trainers pulling out pokemon to assure themselves of safety, desperately fleeing or daring anyone to attack them. The rest of the crowd was either hysterical and trying to fuck off as fast as possible, or didn't quite know what to do. Screaming seemed to be the best they could come up with.

Nothing wrong with that. Really gave the everything-is-going-to-hell vibe he'd been expecting fairly clearly.

Moving in quickly, the UFOs summoned their own fully evolved pokemon and took out their own weapons, pointing them at groups of trainers. Light screens were set up around the shops and around the operatives, forming layers of protection in case of any surprises. Psychics flanked them, ready to disable and halt projectiles. The trainers on the street battling it out with each other were approached by the black-clad operatives, being held at gunpoint.

"Return your pokemon!" They shouted. "We're UFOs! Return your pokemon now or we will shoot!"

Mortified, some listened, but as situations like these tended to go, things always went to shit fairly quickly, never the reverse. Of course the universe would never allow things to get less chaotic. It had to put people through the wringer first because it was a sadistic dick that wasn't satisfied until the necessary quota of suffering was reached.

Typical.

Pressurized water, fire, electricity, and all manner of attacks flared when another crack of a gun went off in the middle of the crowd, dropping a kid with a shot to the gut. Trainers were fighting each other, no longer caring who was an enemy or not. Regular people pushed and shoved, turning the scene into a brawl, only a huge public one where nobody was drunk but equally as hysterical.

The lightscreens helped some, but soon enough the collateral damage from the attacks was throwing people around like dolls and seriously injuring others. An explosion from the clash between a fireblast and a thunder blew an unfortunate man's legs off.

Psychics split the crowd as operatives made their way over to the wounded, holding down trainers as well.

"Get the kid out, he's bleeding!"

"This guy's missing an arm and a leg!"

"Stop those trainers before other people get hurt—Mendez watch out!"

A signpost flew.

"Shit. Mendez down!"

"We can't bring the medics in until the area is clear!"

"Then clear it!"

"But who the hell is the enemy?" Came the question over the comm-links as the UFOs tackled trainers and their pokemon fought off attackers. "There's trainers everywhere! Who's a cultist and who isn't?!"

"Keep calm, Hyacinth!" A female voice ordered, hard and authoritative. Most likely someone with the same rank as Yates, possibly higher. "Watch yourself and be wary of any trainers with abnormally high levels of aggression, they're probably the Sayre followers!"

"So if they're trying to kill us they're bad, and if they're not, they aren't?"

Oh joy.

"That's fantastic, I mean, it's not like everything is trying to kill us at the current bloody moment, after all."

More shots followed, and a Gigalith had already been thrown through a window by a hydropump, shattering the reflect protecting the shop. Several pokemon were already strewn about on the streets, sporting gashes, bruises and presumably various cracked ribs. Some were worse than that. They were lucky there weren't many fatalities yet, from what they gleaned. That would probably change if the mercenary got done with the group on the stage.

"Scratch that. High levels of aggression? Are you serious?! It's fucking crazy out here, we're sitting duckletts! We can't see anything in this crowd!" One of the operatives pointed out, slapping cuffs on an older trainer. "We need to-"

Crack. Crack.

"Take some cover then!" Another suggested, disarming a trainer that rushed him with a knife and beat him across the head with the butt of his pistol.

"We can't let the trainers kill each other either!"

"We also can't let them kill us!"

"Great. Just great. First we take orders from a criminal and now this."

Several groans were heard as the part the operatives dreaded the most began—the part where they put down their lives and expected to get mangled or worse, all for some stupid nutjob. For all the chaos, the operatives moved quickly and efficiently, subduing trainers and directing civilian traffic away from the streets and into buildings. The streets had begun to clear, but it was still a mess. Blood was strewn about everywhere, along with several limbs and pieces of things that used to belong on bodies.

Gale stood on the rooftop of a building, watching for any threats from the skies and trying her hardest not to focus on the carnage below. When she heard the humming sound of what sounded like a jet, she looked overhead to see a trainer atop a Garchomp, its mouth glowing a bright blue. Color draining from her face, she took a radio and nearly shouted into it.

"There's a Garchomp in the air! Someone's riding it and it's preparing to attack! Watch out!"

"What?! Where- Oh, FUCK! Hyper beam! GET! DOWN!"

A roar resounded in the air as the dragon unleashed the attack, ready to incinerate anything below it. The operatives rushed to cover behind buildings and cars, bracing as best they could.

The beam tore through layers of light screens and reached the ground, destroying a large portion of the concrete and incinerating several vehicles, diminished by the shields but still highly destructive. Two operatives were too close to the explosion and were flung through a store window, showered in glass. They didn't get back up.

"Simmons! Gainer! Check if they're alive!"

"Seriously, a fucking Garchomp? Are you kidding?"

Before the other UFOs were able to collect the downed men, a spiraling beam of psychic energy ripped across the pavement in the street, carving its way forward as it traveled down the street, peeling off concrete shards in a shower of earth.

"Haxorus incoming!"

The two operatives rushing over to help the fallen immediately abandoned the thought and dove into an alleyway.

Blue flames roared, colliding with the psybeam in an explosion of energy and light that rattled windows and light screens, setting off several car alarms. Yates stood before them, his Haxorus roaring at its challenger, a Malamar under the control of one of the followers.

"All of you," he addressed firmly, "secure the other parts of the city and spread out, try to keep the panic to a minimum and secure the square. It shouldn't be long before our 'friend' is done with his duties on the stage. Elesa has already been secured and the Elite Four have already been notified. Keep an eye on the mercenary, his violence could make everything worse. Do try to stay alive."

Dispersing the other operatives with a glance, Yates eyed the trainer, staring him down with an intensity he still held from his own days of training.

He held his composure as he thought of the potential fallout of this incident, the thoughts looming over him in a swamping wave of concern. As much as he hated to admit, the mercenary had been right, they would try and take over some kind of radio or television broadcasting station, and as a result, they'd assigned operatives to the main Castelia broadcasting tower, as well as the smaller one in Nimbasa.

What was worrying was that despite UFO protection, these trainers still got through, just like Jubilife in Sinnoh several years prior, even with a gym leader leading the charge. He doubted they got through with pokemon alone- operatives weren't weak battlers in the slightest degree- so how did they get through? Weapons?

But how did a bunch of trainers get a hold of high caliber firearms? In Sinnoh, the few weapons that they managed to get their hands on were old and bought from criminals with standards loose enough to associate with trainers. It didn't take much to wave a stack of bills in front of a low-life's face and buy a weapon from them. The guns weren't as sophisticated and reliable as the standard issue UFO pistols and general weaponry that most regions' military forces carried, but were enough to kill or seriously injure. But these… These were professional, assault based weapons. Weapons that held heavy bans and were constantly monitored and tracked/ Ones no ordinary trainer could just get their hands on. At least not without some very, very professional help.

His Haxorus spat a wave of blue flames into the air, the light of the sun shining off its tusks as adrenaline settled in and thoughts burned away.

Something still didn't feel right.

---

Riven grimaced as the comm-link blared with orders, profanities, and explosions. Shuppet and Jynx were grinning like mad, sharing a bag of popcorn, seemingly applauding the absolute carnage while trying to throw popcorn kennels into each other's mouths.

He hardly had time to check the surrounding buildings or the chaos of the crowd when the Liepard and Cofagrigus shot shadow balls at him in unison. He let go of the blade in his right hand, allowing Efrain to move freely. A purple outline of a serrated sword formed around the Doublade, swinging in crescent slashes of shadow claws to neutralize the attacks. Riven wasted no time, disregarding the two pokemon as he lunged into the group of protestors, summoning his own pokemon to cover him from several other pokemon they'd summoned.

Haona and Aine emerged to intercept a Beartic, Galvantula, and a Conkeldurr. Haona weaved past a signal beam, firing razor winds at the pokemon as she maneuvered around them. The Beartic diffused the slashes, opening its mouth to shoot a volley of sharp icicles against the winds, dispersing shards of ice as sharp winds met ice. An electrically charged net of silk came down on Haona after she narrowly dodged a concrete slab from the Conkeldurr, unable to catch her footing to evade. She twitched and writhed as electricity coursed through her, restricted by the silk.

Going in for the kill, the Galvantula's pedipalps began to glow a noxious purple—cross poison. The attack closed in on her but dissipated when a blast of fire rained down from the sky. Aine landed on the stage hard enough to dent the metal, fire flaring outwards from her legs and arms as a result of the landing.

The stray cinders ignited the web and freed Haona, who shook herself off and thanked the Blaziken with a nod. No time for formal thanks, partly due to a Conkeldurr deciding that throwing concrete slabs around was perfectly acceptable.

It was not.

At least Aine's help made dealing with the three of them much easier. Fire and fighting was an ice type's worst nightmare, and Aine proved that fairly fantastically when she practically beat the Beartic's ass up down and sideways with flaming punches and kicks. The Galvantula was slightly faster than her, but was also being harassed by her flames, rendering it unable to retaliate in fear of being scorched and on the other half, frozen to death. Aine and Haona worked together, alternating their attacks between the three pokemon to cover each other.

The Conkeldurr chucked another concrete slab at Haona, taking advantage of a blind spot created from the Galvantula's thunderbolt. Aine rushed forward, spinning as she did so, shattering the concrete pillar with a single kick and sending fragments of concrete flying around them. Following through, she rolled to evade another concrete pillar and sent a flaming uppercut into the Conkeldurr's jaw, knocking it momentarily upwards. It crashed into the safety rails of the stage arena, momentarily stunned.

Focusing on the other two, an ice beam and a blaze kick to the mouth finished the Beartic and the Galvantula, freezing one solid and severely burning the other.

Their victory was short-lived as the downed fighting type recovered and managed to blindside Aine with an incredibly painful stone edge, sending her sprawling to the ground in agony.

Haona distracted the Conkeldurr while Aine got back on her feet, still hurt but healthy enough to keep fighting. Her red feathers helped cover up the fact that several of the stones had pierced skin, with droplets of blood splashing onto the ground where she stood.

Aine gave a pained wince, but nonetheless assured Haona that she was still in condition to fight.

Between dodging concrete pillars and horrifically powerful punches, Aine and Haona noted Riven fighting the other trainers, visibly annoyed that his opponents weren't complete idiots. The two knives in his hands were practically stained red and Efrain wasn't much better, spreading crimson everywhere he cut. The stage resembled less of a stage and more of a battle site, with bodies and blood in spades.

The Liepard and the Cofagrigus were zoning him out, taking potshots at him when he wasn't weaving in between their attacks and going for more throats. While annoying, he could manage it just fine. The zoning was a nice idea, but helped little considering most of the cultists were face down on the ground in a pool of their own blood.

Riven had just finished driving a knife into someone's chest when a shadowy hand reached up and gripped his foot. Bloody ghosts, he cursed, struggling. Sorry, Efrain.

No offense taken, the Doublade responded, using one of its swords to slice the hand holding Riven's leg. Coming loose, he staggered in place just enough for the Liepard to pounce on the opportunity, firing another ball of ghostly energy at him.

Blocking the shadow ball with one sword was going to hurt, and shadow balls weren't exactly ineffective against Efrain. Still, he raised steel to block, in the haphazard stance he was in. Broken wrist, at worst.

Luckily, Aine intercepted a shadow ball with a blazing kick, drawing a breath of relief from him. Opening her beak, a stream of searing hot flames erupted outwards, creating a large wall of fire that isolated the Liepard and Cofagrigus to the other side of the stage. Riven momentarily peered at her, but she gave only a nod and a small smile in return. Fire flared at her wrists again as she charged into the fire wall.

Within minutes, Riven had finished the remainder of the followers off and Aine had taken down the Liepard and the Cofagrigus, leaving one a charred mess on the ground and the other a rapidly disappearing husk. Haona's battle with the fighting type had iced over the entire stage with giant crystals of ice surrounding the still form of the Conkeldurr, almost entirely encased in it. At the center of its chest was a bright pink slash mark, a pool of blood beneath its feet. She'd used the ice to hold the Conkeldurr in place to set up the psycho cut safely. Well done.

Riven and Aine met back up with her as she regained her breath, her blue horn stained red.

"Are you both alright?" He asked as he examined them for injuries to avoid something biting them later on.

The Absol gave a curt grunt while the Blaziken revealed part of the mid section where the stone edge had hit, her claws marked with her own blood. She whimpered softly when Riven looked it over, reaching into his pack.

Haona was physically fine, but Aine's skirmish with the Liepard and the annoying coffin ghost had jarred the wound and made it worse. The adrenaline had drowned out the pain, but he could tell she was starting to feel it now.

She hissed as the hyper potion he used on her began to take effect, healthy skin replacing most of the damaged tissues and flesh. Riven looked her over once more; the wound was still tender and not completely healed, but she would manage.

Now, for the topic at hand.

"Yates!" Riven radioed. "I'm done here, what's your status?"

The operative turned on his comm-link, allowing the roars and explosions speak for themselves. "Busy. Are you done murdering people? Multiple murder charges would put you in jail for life. Just a warning."

"No time for your legal bullshit. Enemies seem to want me dead, so I dead them back. Any word from Castelia yet?"

"Not-" Another roar. "-yet. They haven't answered- Dragonbreath! Move in close and use nightslash! But I know for sure that the radio station in Castelia is where Jynx and Shuppet are. They did as you said they would, I didn't expect them to get through the UFOs we set up there, however."

"That's… a little worrying. Let me see what the hell is going on first. Notify me if they radio in."

Riven made his way off the stage, witnessing the anarchy that was Nimbasa at the current moment. The worst of the crowd was gone, having scurried into buildings or the nearest pokemon center out of fear, but a significant portion of those that remained didn't know enemy from foe—which was kind of a bad thing since he was neck down covered in blood and sporting two rather large swords that were practically dripping. And he had two pokemon behind him that looked equally as bad.

Good for scaring the pants of your enemies, not good for letting people know that you weren't a serial killer hell-bent on spilling their guts. Demonstrated perfectly when a nearby female trainer caught onto this, and out of fright, swung a metal baton at him that she picked up from an unconscious security guard. Right at his head.

He easily caught the baton with a hand, twisted it out of her hand and tossed it to the side with a metallic clang. Seeing her Simipour already beginning to respond, he brought up a knife, holding it to her neck. Her green eyes were alight in fear, and her Simipour's hydro-pump died in its throat.

"Aine, Haona, tell it that we're not the enemy and not to do anything retarded, like I don't know- attack us?" He ordered, watching the Simipour closely then switching back to its trainer. "I can see your mind racing to try and pull something out of your ass, girl. I advise you just not. So let's make a compromise. I'll let you go, you get to a pokemon center and you tell everyone to stay there and wait until things calm down. Run and don't stop. Don't try to beat someone's skull in with random weapons either. Shit is going down, so just leave it to the pros and your journey can keep going for another day. Being a hero will only get you dead. Pokemon center, you, blue monkey thing there—safety. Got it? Nod to say yes, no sudden moves."

She nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "Excellent, now get over there." He let go of the knife and pushed her on her way, careful not to turn his back. When she picked up the Simipour and sprinted off in the direction of the center, he exhaled deeply.

Good thing she listened. Having to kill a girl that young out of self defense would have been unpleasant, he mused, and starting running again. "Yates, I see the universe is being its usual self. Things out here are a goddamn mess. A girl just tried to beat me upside the head with a baton. A little blood and people freak out."

"Welcome to our world, mercenary," Yates responded dryly. "Where trainers regularly try to assault you. Maybe you should try it instead of being mercenary—Charge! It's going to use psybeam again!"

"I think I like not kissing anyone's ass better," Riven quipped as he ran over to the area most concentrated with battles, doing a quick headcount of his pokemon, who were closely following him, also looking around for any threats. His eyes scanned the surrounding buildings, uneasy about how open the streets were in comparison. He didn't like this at all—too many vantage points and there was no telling how set up the enemy was, not counting the absolute chaos in the streets at the moment, further adding to the mess.

The trainers and Sayre followers were one thing, but they had to have known about the UFOs. Question was, where were the criminals and Singularity grunts? UFOs were filled with ex-trainers who'd gotten well over six badges at the least, or military brats who'd gone to school and signed on the moment they turned eighteen. Both types all demonstrated their prowess both at battling and in busting criminals fairly evenly. A bunch of kids couldn't take them, powerful pokemon or not. They'd need some heavy assistance to get an edge over trained operatives.

And there was no edge here. It didn't make sense.

His head began to feel heavy, and very faint wisps and streams lined the edges of his vision, distorting and fading out as if being interfered with. The Diancie stones, probably. He could feel the fear and distress, eating at his subconscious as something darker pushed outward. If he could see the Other flow, then it was concerning… to say the least. The only other place he saw that was in the blade graveyard, but even then, that was fairly subdued, mostly regret and envy… this, this was on a whole different scale, and a more twisted part of him noticed.

He's acting up again, he thought, shaking his head as he rounded a corner, eye stinging.

That momentary distraction nearly cost him his head as a Scizor sliced a street signpost in two, right around the corner where his head had been. He'd only just managed to dodge it, ducking below the pincers with a last minute dip.

"Haona! Aine!" He called, sliding under the metal bug as it swiped its pincers again, heading back up to his feet. Listening, his Absol fire an ice beam, locking the Scizor in place to prevent pursuit. A Steelix emerged from the ground shortly after, uplifting blocks of concrete into the air as it tried to dig up from beneath him.

Tricky asshole, Riven smirked as he threw Efrain at the wall of a building when the floor began to give way, pursuiting to its location to evade the attack.

Will called it the warp strike, oh so aptly fond of it from a game he'd played, likening what Riven did with Efrain's blades to that move. Riven wasn't all too versed in video game logic, but it was more misleading than saying it was pursuit. That way he could make an enemy think it was something else, considering pursuit had drawbacks of its own. Exploitable ones at that. The less they knew, the better. Also, the name was pretty cool. Scaling buildings was excellent with it, especially when there weren't many shadows to take advantage of, like in daylight.

Warping to a rooftop, he smirked at the trainer below, who looked both baffled and annoyed. Good. It was safe to assume that the guy was a Sayre follower, given his non-existent hesitation to take his head off. Unfortunately, steel types were awful garbage against fire and fighting. And Aine was both.

For once, disadvantages were in his favor. Which also meant that the universe had something brewing specially for him, nothing else could make his gut twist quite like it. It was just a waiting game to see what kind of dickery it had in store for him at this point.

On the other side of the rooftop, he spotted Yates and his Haxorus, duking it out quite spectacularly with a Malamar. Kalosian devil pokemon, more like. Those things were nasty, and had a habit of hypnotizing people. He'd fought an Aberrant Malamar once near Coumarine, his own typing rendering its mind control effectively dick. Sure, it was one of his easier Aberrant jobs, but by no means was it a walk in the park. That thing put him in the hospital for two days when it threw a metal pole into his side.

It took a gyro ball straight to the face. Fuck that thing.

Far to the right, he saw the flares of fire and electricity as Will and Lucia fought off several trainers with their pokemon. He even saw Roland using the buildings to his advantage, slicing his foes down with blinding speed. The other operatives were holding their own against the attackers and confused trainers as well, supporting their own battling pokemon with defensive techniques to protect themselves and civilians. On the sides of the buildings, faint shimmering gleamed in the sunlight, revealing traces of reflects and light screens. Minimizing collateral and structural damage too… Operatives were good.

He hardly blinked as Baron teleported beside him, red eyes watching Haona and Aine spread ice and fire up and down the street as they dealt with the trainer's Steelix and Scizor. Said trainer being frozen in a big block of ice. If the kid wasn't dead, he'd be missing a few limbs after thawing out. Ice beams were notorious for having terrible sideffects when used without restraint, and Haona didn't look too merciful.

"Elesa's safe, I assume?" Riven inquired, still scanning the streets below. "She had a close call. Can't say the same for her Zebstrika, though."

"Yeah," Baron nodded. "Safe… but angry. She wants to get her League team, but the followers have overrun the gym. The ones in black don't know if they're holding hostages."

"Hmmm. Figures," Riven mused, not entirely doubting that they'd try something like that. "So… how bad?" He asked instead, deciding where to head off to. Lucia and Will seemed good enough. Yates was holding things down… the ideal place would be the operatives on various streets below, since that was where the highest concentration of civilians and trainer to trainer skirmishes were, and as a result, the best possible location for collateral damage.

Baron shrugged a shoulder, then flicked some blood off his blades. "Eh, twelve?"

Oh, just slightly above screwed. That wasn't so bad.

"But we have no idea who is an enemy or not, all the trainers look normal," Baron continued, outlining the carnage and blood-stained concrete there was the catch. "I don't know… this seems too…" He paused, in partial disbelief that he was about to say it. "—Easy." He finished, concerned. "I don't like it."

"Sounds about right," Riven acknowledged, inhaling sharply. "Honestly, neither do I. We still don't know how badly things are going in Castelia, if they are at all, or how many injured there are. Worse yet, what happens because of this." The spike on Baron's chest was glowing a dull red, and the twitch of his lips spoke louder than his words. "I mean, you can feel it too, right?"

"Feel what?"

"Fear. Their fear. It's nauseating," Riven said with whiff and snarl, as if smelling something foul.

The psychic looked at him with concern, glancing away after a second then held a hand to his chest. "Yeah… Humans are more afraid of this than I thought. Not just them either—other pokemon too. Older ones, ones that know. I don't think I've ever felt so much fear. Makes me sick. Positive emotions are what this is for, not this."

You can feel it, but I can freaking see it, Riven remarked in his head. "Not even at the Dragon Festival?"

"Mmmm," Baron deliberated, waving a hand, "that was more like oh-shit-there's-dragons-I'm-going-to-die kind of afraid." He closed his eyes, grunting lowly. "This one runs deeper, people aren't just afraid for themselves, that's easy to understand… They're afraid for their pokemon, for us."

"Trainers really care about their teams," Riven added. "Will lost one and his fire went out of control. Enough that he burned three assholes to the point of being unrecognizable, and he'd hardly even used his flames up until then, nor did he think much of it. I wouldn't be surprised if the trainers valued their teams' lives more than theirs. After Sinnoh in particular. People will go to extremes if they're damaged enough. Those Sayre followers are nothing but cracked eggs."

"But who am I to judge them?" He laughed again, staring at his hands. "I fought a war I couldn't possibly hope to win. All because of some half-thought out desire for revenge. Or pride. I don't even know myself."

Baron was silent for a moment, then asked, "would you care if one of us died?"

Riven opened his mouth, then frowned at him. "Of course I would. What kind of question is that?"

"But you gave a generic answer. How badly would you care?"

"Now if only you could read my mind," Riven chuckled, his lips forming an unsettling savage smile. "Then you'd get an idea. They'd leave this earth in pieces. And that's after I'd made sure they suffered."

Baron shuddered, satisfied if a bit disturbed at his trainer's apparent sociopathy.

"These dicks though," Riven said, switching gears. "If they want to bring the Tournament back to weed out the 'strong' trainers, they're going to have to try and take over Castelia's stadium for that. I don't imagine that going over well for either side involved. Bloodbath for sure. Even worse than Jubilife's. A fourth or more of the trainer population in Sinnoh was eliminated because of that. UFOs will have to fight tooth and nail to liberate that damn place, and we don't know a thing about what's going on over there. Rushing in there blind would be idiotic if they push the UFOs back. Worst case scenario, they take over the radio station, the stadium, and lockdown the city ports. Shitstorm wouldn't fully describe the situation."

He paused, thinking. An idea came to him and he raised finger, pointing at the sky. "Shit superhurricane. No… colossal megafuckstorm. Yeah… that sounds terrifying."

Baron ignored that. "Well, can't you call Amy and Seab over in Cast-"

Roar piercing the sky, Baron and Riven hit the floor instantly, knowing better than to be a highly visible target for a dragon. Pretty standard trainer advice, at least in areas marked or known for dragon activity. Saved trainers more than once.

Staying low and hiding behind a vent on the rooftop, they watched as blue flames spread across the sky, chasing after a winged figure.

That figure being a Pidgeot with a very stupid girl on top of it. Brown hair flew in the wind, and Riven's stomach relocated to his knees.

"IS THAT FUCKING GALE?" Riven gaped. "Is she—Oh, fuck. She's trying to fight a Garchomp in the air with just a flying type?! That's—That's insane. Who told her that was a good idea?!"

"That is something you'd do," Baron mentioned wryly. "Emulating you, perhaps?"

"It's one thing doing something insane and it working out however stupid it is. It's another when it's both insane and ineffective. That?" He stuck an accusatory finger at the dragon. "Ineffective. Insanity or not, I'm not a good role model, I have said this," Riven scowled. That Noivern thing he did in Kalos nearly gave him a heart attack and ruined an otherwise perfectly good pair of underwear and pants. That was something he'd never want to repeat. "Why do people do this? I'm fucked in the head, that's easy to explain but that doesn't mean other people should follow me!" He clawed his hands together, making exaggerated hand motions "I. Don't. Get. Her!"

She's a woman, it's pointless trying. Also, your insanity is inspiring, Efrain pounced, disembodied voice chortling. Sometimes they forgot he could talk. As long as it looks fun, people will follow fools. And you, are like a Poochyena puppy who tries to chase after birds. In short, a fool.

"Shut up," Riven grumbled, knocking the two blades together. His face contorted sourly as his palm met his mask covered forehead. "I think I know why she's doing it."

Because you're still a fool, and a terrible prince?

"I told you to shut up and no, it's not because of- Alright, maybe. But the main reason is because to her, it's an adventure," he mimicked, trying for his best Gale voice. "Fuck. That stupid girl… She's just going to die and then I'm going to have to-" He trailed off, mumbling lowly to himself as he saw Emile dive to avoid being incinerated.

"Riv- Can you stop mumbling? Rela- RELAX. Well, don't relax but look, she isn't doing that bad, see the wings?" Baron pointed out with a green finger. "I mean fins. Whatever Garchomps have…"

Skeptical, Riven's eyes narrowed in focus, and true to word, part of the Garchomp's body was lined with frost and ice, interfering with its ability to fly and outmaneuver Emile. In Gale's backpack, Yukiko and Boagrius were sitting tight, blowing out powder snows and ice beams at the dragon.

Goddamn.

For such a menacing dragon, a ghost and a flying cloud a fourth its size were making a joke of it. The plan was still absolutely insane though, one screw up and Emile, Yukiko, Boagrius, and Gale would end up a falling ball of toast. That would be the second time Emile was getting chased by an angry dragon.

Good thing Garchomps were shit at making sharp turns. Salamence they were not.

"See?" Baron gestured with his hands. "Not ineffective."

"She's still going to get herself killed," Riven huffed petulantly, standing once he ascertained that the Garchomp didn't care enough to turn them into barbecue.

"Worried?" Baron chided, with a smile that was all teeth.

Riven gave him a flat look.

"'Course you are. I'll keep an eye on her. Wait- where are you going?"

Riven gestured to the large building with lights and neon signs adorning the exterior, easily the most noticeable building in Nimbasa. "Guess." He looked up at the sky and heaved a heavy sigh. "Having Elesa on our side would help calm people down, and make sure they don't lose faith in the gym leaders. If we don't want that epic clusterfuck to repeat itself, then we need to reverse or prevent whatever we can. She's alive, so now people need to see her do something. Morale is important in aspects other than wartime, take it from me."

"Why not let the ones in black take care of it?"

Riven stood up, angling one of Efrain's blades. From what Baron could see, his trainer's mouth lifted into a sardonic grin. "Because they play by the rules, and the rules take too damn long."

One throw and he was gone.

---

"We can't approach the gym without getting discovered, and there's way too many of them in there to fight off. If they're holding your gym trainers hostage, we could risk them dying in the process well before we bloody get there," an operative explained to Elesa. "The situation's, uh, pretty bad."

"That's quite the understatement," she deadpanned. She was incredibly angry, and grieving from the looks of it, but she wasn't stupid. The UFOs were good at their jobs, but she knew from experience that the layout of her gym would be disastrous to try and take on in a rush attempt, especially with the enemy having access to firearms as well. That'd be like charging into a Galvantula's web—painful, stupid, and with a high chance of ending up electrocuted and then eaten. Her own design working against her, what a wonderful change of events.

And with psychics patrolling the area… the chances of getting in there unnoticed were virtually zero.

Someone had set this up too well. So much so that it scared both her and the operatives she was with.

A sound of metal clanging reached their ears from behind. When they saw a figure in black and a facemask appear out of thin air, they nearly jumped back from being startled, drawing their guns.

"Holy sh-"

"Was that a teleport?"

"Didn't see it, shadow sneak? Isn't that an offense?"

"Don't think he gives a shit, man."

"Wait…" one of the UFOs cursed under his breath. "That's him. Prime."

Elesa's eyes narrowed at the man, flinching from the sheer amount of blood on him. He'd looked like he'd just carved through a river of bodies, and the blades in his hands looked oddly familiar.

Something's not right, the UFOs aren't shooting him…

He got closer, and she stepped back, but one of the men, a muscular blonde one, gave her a reassuring yet shaky smile. "Try not to provoke him, superiors say he isn't hostile. He's with us," he said apprehensively. He looked at him again. "…I think."

"You think?"

They tensed as he stopped in front of them, tapping a foot on the ground, arms crossed.

"One of you, tell me why you're all sitting in an alleyway playing with your balls," Prime demanded. "There's a gym full of people being held at gun, knife, and pokemon point. Isn't your job supposed to save people when the police are being incompetent? You're the protectors of Unova? What the hell are you doing? Waiting for a sign from god? Because let me tell you, he's a major dick."

"Ugh. Look, merc. There's psychics up there, and lookouts in the buildings here, here, and here," an operative with bloodshot eyes replied irritably, showing him a holographic map of the street, with the selected areas glowing. "We charge in there, and the gym trainers are dead. If you got any brighter ideas that aren't tantamount to indirect murder, we'd sure as hell would do more than 'sit on our balls'. But until then, we need to wait for backup. Or snipers. Oh wait, the gym doesn't have any open windows. QED, we're screwed."

While they couldn't see the roll of his eyes from the visor and mask, they did see the scowl. "And here I was thinking UFOs weren't entirely useless… Way to disappoint. I'll take care of it, but first I need some information." He pointed a gloved finger at Elesa. "Where is the gym's power system?"

"Why?"

"I have an idea." He gestured to his blades. "I can get you all inside if the gym's pitch black, that way I don't send you into a death pit, and they'll get caught with their pants down and bent over. I also don't have to guess where to put you. They shouldn't be able to see you. Theoretically."

"Except we aren't Liepards," one of the UFOs replied sarcastically. "And you won't be able to see either."

Riven gestured to the visor. While it wasn't retrofitted with night-vision or technology of any sort, it could pass off as a highly sophisticated piece of headgear when it really wasn't. UFOs didn't know that he could see in the dark, nor did he feel the need to tell them when this explanation worked out with less questions.

"Something tells me you use fear often," Elesa pointed out. "Reminds of Grimsley..."

Riven gave her a knowing smile. "People are afraid of the dark. It's useful in a world where the lights never go out. Because when they do… well, I've learned brute force isn't always the best solution. Sometimes, all you need is a good trick."

"Except we still can't see," the same UFO said.

"Holy shit, man, can you fucking wait? This is why I hate authorities. Did you just wake up today, decide to be a tumor, and shove a pole halfway up your rectum?"

"I know I didn't decide that I'd be stuck dealing with Sinnoh's leftover bullshit on my week off because of some bigshot mercenary either," the UFO responded gruffly. "So, forgive me if I'm a little pissed."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the safety of the entire fucking region disturb your shitty barbecue? Next time let me know, because fuck's-his-name Vanderkerz wants to sleep in longer-"

"What about the psychics, then?" The blonde one cut-in, giving the snarky operative a stern look. An Elygem clung to his pants, screeching and hissing lowly. It eyed Prime with a hostile wariness. "That plan would be done the moment they sense our thoughts and tell everyone in the building we're there. Gym's visible too, there's no easy way to approach it. Unless you're invisible…"

The merc chuckled lightly, with a slight bit of mirth. "Don't worry about the psychics, they won't see me coming. What's important is that once I radio in that they're taken care of, one of you goes to the main breaker, kills the lights, then you port in and do your thing. Simple, right?"

Simple being relative here.

He held up a hand. "But please, let me do something first when it's dark. It'll make things so much easier if they're scared out of their minds. Wait there until the opportune moment, even if you're shaking. Goes for you too, gym leader. Don't let your morals stop you from doing the right thing."

"Even if we're shaking?" The blonde one asked. "What's that mean?"

The mercenary twirled a blade in his hands. "That means that what I'm about to do, you're not going to like very much. Wait for the radio, and don't do anything stupid. I'm going to leave my comm-link on, so you're going to hear everything. Show some self-control and don't say anything. Do it right, and everyone will walk out unscathed. Mostly."

Leaving the operatives and Elesa to their confusion, he walked into a shadow, emerging from the darkness in between one of the two buildings that the UFO had marked. The first sentries he saw were a teen in his late teens, and another about the same age, the former with a Musharna and the latter with a Sigiglyph.

An unholy combination for sentry work, really. Against people whose minds and thoughts they could read… which was a lot of people. Generally speaking, of course. Up against those of the dark, or a being with remarkable control over his own mind, they were about as useful as a Dunsparce.

Being a dark type was a mixed blessing. At times he was a walking "fuck your psychic bullshit" and other times it just made life suck that much more. Like with teleporting and instantaneous travel. Or in general psychics hating you. Or feeling everyone's negativity while seeing enough colorful swirls that he'd swore he taken some sort of drug. Tradeoffs sucked.

He glanced up, planning his route of attack.

Four on the roof, all looking outwards towards the bottom. I'll have to eliminate them as they're shifting positions and in that time get rid of the ones in the buildings around the gym. Guys in the buildings are focusing on the buildings, not themselves. Pretty amateur placements really…

So far he counted about… nine sentries in total on this side.

Doable.

He shook Efrain's blades, readying himself.

Ready? He asked the ghost.

I was wondering when I was going to get to do something. Hmmm… How does the soul of an insane teenager taste?

"All clear," came the mercenary's voice over the comm-link. "You'll have to excuse the blood. I might have gotten it everywhere. Tell the janitors I'm sorry."

The operatives and Elesa alike winced, watching him remove one of the Doublade's swords from a scout's chest as they left the alley. Their pokemon were torn to pieces, cut down just as quickly as their trainers had been. One oddly looked like he'd had the soul drained out of him. Horrifying, but it wasn't anything UFOs hadn't seen before, not that they wanted to see it, anyway. It reminded them that these sort of people existed out there regularly, doing the same thing to who knows how many people; it was a horrifying and depressing thought. Elesa didn't look nearly as well though.

"I don't know if we should be glad he's on our side, or arrest him. That's just sick."

"Right now, I don't care if he kills them all," Elesa admitted darkly, fist clenched. "They murdered Lancer."

"Do you really mean that?"

She said nothing as blue eyes glanced away, holding back tears. Even gym leaders weren't infallible. At heart they were still trainers too, and grief often pushed people to extremes. She breathed shakily and spoke into the radio."So… What now, mercenary?"

They headed over to his position, stomachs churning at the sight of the fallen scouts. And at the pile of meat that had become of the unlucky ones that got pulled off the rooftop. They way he'd gone about it was honestly straight out of a stealth video game, which drew some dark humored snorts from some of the operatives.

Still, video games were a lot different from real life. And this… god. At least blood in video games disappeared. They felt like saying something, but right now there wasn't a choice. Swallowing it was the best they could do. Cleanup was going to be hell.

"Alright, this is what's going to happen" Prime said, clapping his hands together. "Elesa, and you, blonde guy—you two head over to the main breaker and kill the lights. The rest of you, prepare for a fight but hold until they come back on. Blonde- shit, what- what's your name? Too many blondes here in Unova."

"Pershing," he answered simply.

"Pershing… Okay, turn the lights off when I say, 'Are you afraid of the dark?'. Got it? Also, return all of your psychics. They don't want to be there." He eyed the Elgyem, curling a lip upward when it let out a grating screech.

"Uh…"

"Don't question it. Just do it. Soon as you're inside, and the lights come on, take them all down. The surprise factor should give you enough time to do it, no matter the gym layout. If you're as good as they say, anyway. They can't possibly fit all the gym trainers and people stuck in there on your rollercoasters, Elesa. I'll leave a sword here, that way you can shadow sneak there when needed. If I'm in the same room, you should appear within proximity."

"Wait, those swords are alive?"

A yellow eye opened on a hilt, peering up at the operative indignantly. Efrain slapped him with a sash.

Rather than be scared, the operatives got closer to inspect Efrain, like trainers around a shiny. Well, technically, he was.

"Woah, that's pretty wild."

"Is that a pokemon from another region?"

Riven nodded, slightly proud. "Yeah, Doublade. Kalosian. They're sentient. And both blades are one entity. Name's Efrain. He's a bit of a sadist. Look at him funny and he'll castrate you."

"Really?" One of the UFOs asked, backing away.

"No," Riven replied, snorting. "He doesn't know where those things have been."

They all gave him a disapproving look, which he brushed off with another snort. Leaving Efrain in Elesa's hands-he didn't trust the UFOs, frankly- he made off to the entrance of the gym, standing idly in front of the doors with a hand on his chin.

How was he going to do it?

Decisions, decisions.

"Can't decide." He turned on his comm-link, changing channels. "Will, Lucia, how are things?"

"Fucked," Will replied curtly.

There was an explosion. Or five. He couldn't really tell. Quil might have been chortling in the distance.

"Descriptive," Riven said dryly. "Can't you fluff it up a bit more?"

"Really fucked."

"Nevermind," Riven chuckled. "Well, seeing as how you're not busy from the amount of explosions I hear on your end, hear me out. I'm facing a dilemma right now, I don't know whether I should sneak in, or give them the entrance special; what do you think?

He could almost feel Will's grin. "Is that even a question?"

A devious smile spread on Riven's face, enough to eat a mountain of Tauros shit.

"Good, because you know, I'm really leaning towards the-"

"Oh, no. Don't you dare damage Elesa's gym!" Lucia warned, cutting in. "I swear if you-"

"-Second option," Riven laughed, and raised a sword.

"You bastard! I'm going to get in so much trouble for-"

"Hue."

---

"Uh, Elesa? I think that crazy bastard just carved a hole in your gym," Pershing said, handing Elesa the binoculars without taking his eyes off the rising trail of smoke and dust.

She sighed deeply, scowling.

"That's the second wall this month."

---

The wall of the gym blasted open as a shadow claw ripped cleanly through steel and concrete, carving an enormous scar into the exterior. Yelling ensued as the followers and the hostages scrambled, trying to see what the hell just happened.

Riven confidently strode into the gym, unperturbed by the blood and dust clinging to his coat. He'd made a point of smearing himself in more blood before going, trying for the most batshit crazy image he could muster—mainly to inject thoughts of "this guy is not to be fucked with." It was amazing how an unsettling sight made people more prone to mistakes. An image was just as powerful as it was perceived, and it could do wonders with the right hands.

"Who the hell are you?" Asked a red-haired kid. He was holding a girl hostage, holding her at knifepoint. He looked down at him, disturbed by the blood. Good, it was working.

There were followers posted along the rollercoaster tracks, holding rifles and all manner of illegal firearms. Now it made sense what that ordeal in Kalos was about with the weapons. This was what they were gearing up for. Singularity had been planning this for three bloody years.

If they had that much foresight, then it was obvious that this wasn't all they had. Three years of planning and preparation, organizing and assembling, with a shitty hostage situation and a failed assassination attempt to show for it? No, they weren't this petty. He knew who he was hunting, and this wasn't their style. They were better than this.

Or maybe this was all the Sayre followers' doing. They were kids, so it made sense if their plans were garbage. Perhaps Singularity couldn't control them? Playing with loose cannons was always a dangerous business.

"Let them go," Riven ordered, sighing with perceived boredom. "Or things will get messy. Not good for your health, believe me."

"Quit screwing with us, we know you're with the UFOs. They're trying to negotiate right now, but we're not going to fall for it." A male trainer with unruly black hair stepped forward, flanked by a Seismitoad. There was a radio in his left and a pistol in his right. "They sent you here to disturb us while they move into position, huh? I admit, that entrance was a little surprising, but you didn't follow up on it. That was pretty stupid. Now these people are that much closer to dying. Nice job breaking it, hero. Take a step further and people are going to start dying. I'm sure that the UFOs don't want that, right, operatives? Muzzle your dog before he gets people killed."

The radio in his hand buzzed, with muffled sounds of a hostage negotiator on the other side.

"Their dog? Oh? Really now? Is that what you think." Riven tilted his head playfully, taking mental notes of the opposition. "And oh my! What a predicament you've put me in. Whatever shall I do?"

So now he knew that they knew that the UFOs were listening. Good, this could work. That information was certainly useful, and would give credibility to his little ploy.

Hostage situations were interesting. Mainly because they only worked because one side wanted people alive while the other exploited that desire to get their way. They were long, arduous and usually ended with casualties on both sides, or everyone on the hostage taking side dead, alongside the hostages.

But… when the other side could give less than a Growlithe's shit about the hostages, holding hostages became pretty useless.

However, that also meant that it was a gamble when it came to how alive the hostages would actually be as a result. And even if they were somehow saved, no one would really like their savior anyway, considering they were perfectly willing to throw away lives. He could theoretically just threaten to murder them all should they touch a single hostage. Simple, but severe. Definitely not going to earn anyone some points with the law. In fact, he was teetering on the edge of getting arrested after this, since he had killed several people since this whole fiasco began. Count would likely rise by the end of the day too.

And that's why being a hero fucking blows, Riven remarked mentally. Whatever you do, you get screwed.

All he could do at this point was rely on his image, and turn the situation over on them. Fortunately, insane was something he did well. And those years in the criminal underworld of Kalos refined the bloodthirst inside, as well as his ability to act like a sadistic prick.

"Go ahead," Riven said simply, swinging Efrain up onto his shoulder. "Kill them all."

The hostages tensed in fear, and the operatives on the comm-link instantly sucked in a breath. Elesa and the group outside the gym felt a spike of concern, but they held on, hoping that it was just a gambit. That feeling only got worse.

The followers were rightfully taken off-guard, however.

"What?" The kid questioned. "What did you just say?"

"Your ears don't work, kid?" Riven grinned, flashing canines. "Kill. Them. Go ahead! Take your knife and cut their throats! Spill their blood! Watch closely as the life leaves their eyes. Savor it. After all, they're hardly worth anything to you, right? To be honest, they're not worth anything to me either. See, I don't care about them. If they lived or died, it's all the same. Whatever the UFOs think, I couldn't give less of a shit," Riven practically howled, tone sadistic.

"I'm just here because this little cult of yours is bad for business. I wouldn't mind tearing all of you to pieces, I think it'd even be fun. Although, I'd prefer if I didn't have to paint the walls of this fine establishment red, janitors really don't need a harder time than they already have. The outside is already a mess, I mean, those pour kids didn't know what hit them. There was so much fear in the eyes. How cute, little children who lost a loved one deciding to spread fear and play with the world of criminals. You don't even know what you're getting into. Such amateurs, you really should work on your sentry placements, they're terrible."

There it was, the realization just whose blood was dripping off Efrain's blade. Oh man that was satisfying.

"Stick to pokemon battles," Riven warned gravely, going utterly serious in a single second. The blade came off his shoulder and with a flick, spread crimson along the floor. "Just children, trying to play in an adult's world. Oh sure, you kill and frighten because it's easy when pokemon do all the work, but by yourselves you're nothing more than weak, little children who can't handle loss, thinking power can make you feel better. Only it doesn't, does it? How tragic."

Several eyes widened, and Riven had to fight the urge to grin like an ass. Eat the bait, go on.

"D-don't get any closer!" One of the younger ones said, holding a pistol to a rather annoyed gym trainer, who seemed more focused on watching the clock than trying not to die. Seems this wasn't the first time he'd been held hostage. He was trying his best to keep calm. Quite impressive, all things considered.

"Or what?" Riven challenged. "You're going to kill him? Do it, that won't stop me. Think about it, if you do kill him, what's going to stop me from killing you? As long as they're alive, you're safe and you get to keep every body part intact and at most leave in chains. But if they die… well, death is a mercy compared to wait I have waiting for you should you kill them. I don't tend to kill people if I'm not paid for it, unless you get in my way. I'm a high-functioning psychopath, I can see sense. So should you."

"Don't listen to him, Kabuto," the black haired one commanded. "He's only one guy, and we have guns and pokemon. There's nothing he can do. We can blow you to pieces here and now. Killing gym leaders isn't hard, you shouldn't be either. You have no pokemon."

"And yet you failed to kill Elesa!" Riven mocked. "Some 'real' trainers you are!" That's when the deranged laughter began. He bent down, obscuring his face from view as his hand took the Diancie stones around his neck off, placing them into his pocket.

"Now… answer me a question," Riven said, watching fingers tighten on triggers and pokeballs. "Followers of Sayre-"

A wave of dread spread, the air growing thick and heavy. The lighting in the gym seemed to dull, as if the light itself was being sucked away. In a flash of movement, he spoke behind them, placing a hand on the black-haired trainer's shoulder. "-Are you afraid of the dark?"

"What?! How did he-"

The lights went out, and a red eye glowed. A coarse, disembodied voice echoed throughout the gym, coming from every direction at once.

Run.

---

I wonder how much that's going to cost, Gale wondered sourly to herself as part of a nearby building exploded from a missed hyper beam. Wind rushed into her face when Emile dove and weaved in between two buildings, briefly looking behind her to see the Garchomp struggling to stay afloat, with even more ice weighing it down.

"Ice beam, Yukiko! He should be easier to hit on the next dive! Don't be afraid!" She assured the ghost, who seemed absolutely terrified of the fire. Boagrius, on the other hand, borrowed a crazy streak from his trainer and hollered boisterously in laughter, launching powder snows and weather balls without a care in the world.

Emile flew past more buildings, just over the absolute mess that Will had made of the street. Lava cooled on the street as Quil spewed forth a scorching hot stream of flames, unsettling Yukiko further. "Shhh, it's okay Yuki," Gale cooed. "The ones down there are friends, just focus, okay?"

The ghost nodded nervously and her body began to shine a dim blue. Gale tugged on a feather twice. Taking the cue, Emile rose into the air and promptly dove again, lining up his position and the Garchomp's to be as linear as possible.

"Fire!" Gale commanded.

She felt the cold through the backpack, with frost beginning to form on the back of her jacket and seep through her clothes. She ignored it as a beam of ice traveled through the air, forking and curving directly upwards. The dragon seemed to panic, and in a desperate attempt to evade, jerked to the side. The beam struck nothing, but the dragon had fallen for the trap.

"Boagrius, weather ball!"

Grinning widely, the Castform let out a squeaky warcry and shot a blue ball of ice-infused energy out of his mouth, striking the Garchomp's right wing and encasing it in ice. It plummeted from the sky as the ice weighed it down and prevented it from flying, striking the ground with a sickening crunch. Even battered and probably broken in several places, the dragon refused to stay down.

"Oh, come on! Are you serious?! It just fell out of the sky!" Doing a fly by, Emile flew low and steady to give Yukiko a good shot and put the dragon down for good. She took it, firing a final ice beam at the dragon's sternum. It writhed and struggled against the ice spreading over it, fire rising from its mouth briefly before the ice completely covered it, freezing it solid.

She half expected it to break out of the ice and laugh at her, but it stayed down for good.

Gale exhaled in immense relief, dismounting from Emile as he landed in front of the frozen pokemon. Her hands and legs felt like toothpicks and her body couldn't stop shaking; she almost fell over from the feeling. Emile was even worse off, taking deep bird breaths so his heart wouldn't implode.

Boagrius shot out of her backpack, congratulating her with loud cries. Yukiko followed, doing revolutions around Gale, staying away from her despite wanting nothing more than to snuggle her trainer.

"We did it!" Gale exclaimed. "I mean, gravity helped but we did it! Hah, I can't wait to see what Riven says about this." She jumped for joy, exhilarated. "Beat that, dark boy!"

Walking over to the frozen dragon, she noticed something odd. She could have sworn that-

"Boagrius? Yukiko? Emile?"

The three pokemon looked at her oddly, asking her what was wrong.

"Where's the rider?"

---

Riven cracked his back and neck, feeling fairly exhausted. Slipping the Diancie beads back on, his stomach almost lurched again.

"Did you kill anyone?" Elesa asked, looking around at all the incapacitated trainers. "Just what exactly did you do? I heard the screaming but…"

The UFOs had taken most of them down, but the mercenary had dealt with the most problematic beforehand. They would need medical attention for broken bones, but not autopsies, at the very least. That was surprising, given the violence he'd demonstrated outside. Well, at least the ones that they found in the gym were alive. Outside was… a different thing entirely.

The gym trainers, on the other hand, wanted him gone. They all appeared like they'd seen the devil, and from the state of the gym when they shadow snuck in… The air was oppressive, heavy, and just felt twisted—evil, to be more precise. A gut wrenching feeling, one of the worst she'd ever felt, and then, all of a sudden, it was gone. Whatever he did, it didn't just scare the followers, it absolutely terrified her gym trainers, and most of the Sayre followers too.

Riven peered back at her, mouth a thin line. Elesa had enough impulse control not to back away in fright when he got near her, despite her trainers' gasps of panic. In a whisper, he shrugged, "Primal fears can do a lot of things to the human mind, make them see things that aren't there. All I did was exploit that with some theatrics, a rough stone to the ribs, and a twist. Painful enough to induce screaming. Unfortunately, it also frightens everyone else. And I did goad them into murdering your trainers so they could see the hostages being alive as a way to assure their own safety, rather than expendable depending on what they wanted. Some of them are dead though. Their pokemon too. I just sent them, uh, elsewhere. The ones with assault rifles and the electric types were too dangerous. I'm not sorry for what I did."

For a brief moment, there was disappointment in his voice.

The UFOs wouldn't be happy about the dead followers, but they would have made things far more dangerous for everyone involved. A hailstorm of bullets could have killed pokemon, operative, gym trainer, and followers alike. He made the right call, but what consequences would arise from that weren't the issue right now. Especially not to Elesa.

"That's… We thought-" She gasped quietly, "we thought you did it because you genuinely didn't care. Had us ready to teleport in and stop you. But you did it despite knowing everyone would hate you regardless? That's… surprisingly noble."

"Nothing noble about it. I'm a mercenary," he answered simply. "People will hate me regardless. And don't get me wrong, I'm pretty indifferent to your gym trainers dying, honestly. Doesn't mean I should let it happen, either. I'm not a hero, but I also know practicality. Killing people in the gym would give those kids trauma, there'd be a stain on your gym, and getting the blood off the white walkway would be the definition of pain in the ass. I meant that comment about the janitors by the way. They're the real heroes. Still, Nimbasa's tourist attracting reputation is already going to be damaged from this anyways. No need to make it worse. We could definitely do with less emotionally damaged trainers."

"I-I…Thank you," Elesa said sincerely, giving him a beautiful smile. "Using the dark to your advantage… It's almost poetic. The brightest stars shine in the deepest darkness."

Taken aback, Riven stuttered, about to protest.

"Just take the thanks," she said, hushing him. "The way you went about it might have been questionable and slightly traumatizing, but if it was all theatrics, then my gym trainers should be fine with time. But the good thing is that they're all alive and well. Thanks to you and the UFOs. They were my responsibility, and if they died or suffered severe trauma… I don't know how I could face their families. Lancer's dead, and that's enough grief for me…" Blue eyes were crestfallen, glancing down at the floor. "So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I assume you don't get thanked much."

Riven was slightly stunned, taking a moment to collect himself. "Not much, no." He pursed his lips, shifting his weight onto his left foot. "Trainers can't lose faith in the gym leaders. You and the others… you're the pedestals of support. Don't break them. Kids are more malleable than adults. That also means they're more prone to giving into baser instincts, and they don't want to do that. That's what you and the others are for, to ensure that the trainers aren't alone. Be their role models."

Don't let your world become mine.

She smiled again. "That Gallade," Elesa recalled. "He was yours, right?"

He nodded, returning the smile. "He can teleport. I'm a tiny bit slower. Time was sort of important."

"I won't forget this, whatever your reasons." Her eyes shifted to a certain part of her gym. "Also, I'll forgive the fact that you blew a gigantic hole in my gym."

A tiny grin formed on her lips, and Riven held back a stupid giggle. "I was beginning to think you'd forget about that." He took off a glove and held out his hand. "Acceptable losses?"

"Acceptable losses," she repeated with some amusement, shaking it. The tone died as her smile fell and she walked towards the back of the gym, returning with a belt full of pokeballs. She stared at the pokeballs long and hard, as if assuring herself that they were still there. Turning away from the others, she finally let her tears fall.

Loss was depressing, and seeing a gym leader cry was heartbreaking. He'd never seen a gym leader cry before, but seeing Elesa sob in silence reminded him of things best left in memories and dreams.

I'll let her deal with her grief. Losing someone you cared about isn't easy. Especially the first time.

He turned away from Elesa and walked over to the group of operatives in the corner of the gym, who were all mumbling amongst themselves pretty seriously.

"Any word?"

The blonde one, Pershing, glanced at the others and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. "The UFOs stationed in Castelia all emergency teleported to the field office in Black City. Many of them need medical attention. Severely."

Universe always finds a way, doesn't it? He thought darkly. "Did they get driven out?"

"They weren't fighting just Sayre followers," Pershing replied. "There were a bunch of guys in facemasks with guns and plenty of strong pokemon too. They were targeting the operatives while shooting anyone that got close. Some civvies are dead. They managed to liberate the radio station, but Jynx and Shuppet weren't stadium had a heavy trainer presence and then… nothing. It's like they turned and left. The injured were teleported to Black City as a safety precaution. The two other trainers that you said are friends of that girl and Lucia's brother are there too."

He sighed. "Long story short, things went badly, and the trainers went up and disappeared. Nothing but good news today…"

Riven's mouth fell into a thin line, suddenly very concerned. Enemies didn't just dip out like that, they weren't out of the clear yet. There had to be some sort of trick. "Radio them back and tell them to post fresh guys at the stadium and the radio tower. They might come back."

"Who's they?" Pershing asked, prodding. "I've had this really weird feeling that you know more than you're letting on, and it's bothering me—just slightly. Okay, more than a little. A lot. It would help if you told us everything you know now rather than before everything goes to crap again."

A blank stare was all the operative got, prompting another sigh. He turned away dismally back towards the others, holding his hands up. "Fine, but if this comes back to bite us-"

"It won't," Riven assured.

As they carried off the black-haired trainer from before, he smiled at Riven, in a way that made his skin crawl and his stomach jitter. Mouthing something, Riven read his lips, concern growing even greater.

Check.

---

The fight in Nimbasa had winded down as quickly as Castelia had, with far less expected casualties than he predicted, so little in fact that Riven's paranoia had risen to a level that could only be comparable to that crazed sprint to Mauville a few years ago. Not good in any sense.

Streets were absolutely trashed, and ambulances sped up and down the seemingly battle torn street blocks as paramedics rushed to get injured to both hospitals and pokemon centers. An order came through to reconvene with Yates, who'd taken care of the Malamar and its trainer. Quite messily too, given that a good portion of the Malamar had been ripped clean off by Yates' Haxorus, who was already munching on the remains.

Whether that was acceptable or not was debatable—neither of which were Riven's concern, anyway. Efrain's gyro blades were far messier.

He checked around for Gale, Will, and Lucia; finding all but Gale amongst the large group of UFOs in the middle of the street. Flying somewhat low, Emile and Gale circled overhead two blocks away, acting as lookouts in case of a surprise attack.

Above, he could see an arching shimmer of lightscreens and reflects blanketing the rendezvous point—interlocking plates of shining pink and white coming together at one vertex at the very top of the structure, forming a tower of protective barriers.

"What's that?" Riven asked a nearby operative, who was feeding his Stoutland.

"Huh? Oh, that. Parasol lightshield formation. P.L.F. for short. It's a defensive measure based in cities to mitigate structural damage and weaken projectiles and long range beam attacks," he recited through bites of jerky. "Stacking of reflects and lightscreens turns even hyper beams into little more than peashooters. Also blocks ballistics fairly decently."

"I saw Steven do something similar."

"S-steven Stone?" The UFO stammered, nearly choking on the jerky. The Stoutland barked at him, urging him to chew carefully. "Damn. I've heard stories about him. Did he do it by himself?"

"Yeah, just his Metagross. He had a rotating ring of them that could cover an entire city square. Made a joke of a Mega Tyranitar. Left me speechless for a few minutes."

"Must have been a sight. Well, we don't have someone that strong in our ranks, but our strength is higher than normal in terms of the average operative. Most of us have six to eight badges under our belts or went into the military the moment we turned eighteen. We can't one man fortress like that, even if that would be undeniably useful. Together though, even the strongest hyper beam wouldn't do much. Property damage pisses off the superiors more than we'd like. God damn suits."

"What's its weakness?" Riven asked.

"Doesn't have one," the operative grinned proudly, and went back to his food. "Don't worry about it, merc."

Riven gave the formation a final, doubtful look over, narrowing his eyes at the top, where the plates converged. He shook his head and joined Yates, who was commanding several operatives to do sweeps of the area and checking in with another division in Black City.

"Finally back? God, you should clean yourself, you're covered in blood."

Riven sniffed his coat and shrugged. He'd smelt worse before.

"Well, at least I heard the gym was secured without any gym trainer fatalities. Good job. Some of the Sayre supporters were unaccounted for, however. Where did you-"

"Dumpster, by the Simisear coffee shop. They had assault rifles and their pokemon were too dangerous." Riven was still preoccupied with peering at the surrounding buildings, paying only half attention. "Had to do it."

Yates' face steeled itself.

"Are you going to arrest me?"

"Don't need to."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to be stuck in Unova for a long time," Yates replied, in a tone as equally as depressing as it sounded. "We shut down every port and airport, and long-distance communication to the other regions so this doesn't go anywhere. Whatever Sayre supporters there are on this region, they won't be receiving help from Sinnoh. That much is certain."

Riven could only stare aghast. "What."

"Six months, at the least."

There was a brief stare from Riven as let out a quiet, exhausted sigh and looked up into the sky, shaking his head. He muttered something about coats and snow.

"You're a lot calmer than I expected," Yates noted, with a raised eyebrow. "I figured your reaction would be explosive; mercenaries aren't known for level-headed attitudes."

"That's not wrong, I've seen people erupt at the drop of a hat. I guess I'm just tired." He scratched his head. "And it's less calm and more that I was already prepared mentally to be dicked over somehow. Was just waiting to see in what way and how badly it was going to suck. What month is it?"

"October."

"Swell," he remarked dryly. "I'd let out a string of curse words and as many variants of fuck, shit, and ass that I know of, but I'm a little tired. And thirsty, so I won't." He sighed one last time. "Damn."

Riven shuffled away from Yates like a Slugma, lethargic. Now if only he could hibernate for six months. Gale touched down in the distance, but he was too drained to go over and roar at her for trying to take on a dragon in the sky.

Speaking of which, where was it? She was smiling and stroking Emile's feathers, so obviously that dragon either left, or she miraculously took it down. Maybe it was better to avoid her lest she rub it in his face. Instead, he joined Lucia on a nearby bench, sitting down on the bench with some noodles the operatives had provided.

"You blew a hole in Elesa's gym," she stated plainly, picking at her food. He gave her a flat look. Well, less flat and more dead looking. "Did someone suck out your soul? You practically fumbled over like a zombie."

"I just got the news," Riven said irritably. Lucia gave a tiny, pity-filled "ah". "I'm stuck here for six bloody months, Lucia. And winter is coming. I've heard the stories."

"I've spent a few winters here," Lucia shrugged. "It isn't that bad. Just get some layers on, keep to the towns, don't get caught out in snowstorms, and have a fire pokemon with you. You have Aine, so you should be good on that front. Only northern Unova gets snowed in to the point of being impassible. Icirrus was terrible though. It's kind of a good thing this whole situation rotated me out. It's always cold there. I forgot that anything besides winter actually existed."

"Yeah? Then forgive me and my war flashbacks, you didn't trudge through miles of snow and ice while getting run out of every encampment by fire-using dickheads with Arcanines. Forrina was nothing compared to that. Still, I wouldn't like to deal with Unovan winters, they'll suck regardless. And the xenophobia. Trust me, I do not want to be here. People at the marketplace already were giving us odd looks. More Will and Gale though."

"You're fairly light-skinned," Lucia said, looking him over. "And you don't have an accent. In fact, yours is really out of place just about everywhere. It's more Unovan than anything, to be honest. Even in Hoenn you're an oddball. And nobody really cares about what region you're from when dressed like that. P.I.s dress like that and nobody questions them. Also, take a shower when you get back to the center. You smell like a slaughterhouse."

"I'll do that once I'm sure that this is all there is to this."

"Is that why you haven't stopped scanning the surrounding buildings like a Braviary?"

"I don't think this is the end," he admitted, eyes still scanning the buildings. "And these office buildings have some of the largest windows I've ever seen. And you can't see into them."

"The only people in there are those that work there, everyone was told to stay inside." She sighed. "I- Riven… Not everything gets worse. Sometimes when you think something is going to get much worse, it doesn't. I think you're just too jaded. Happens a lot, even to operatives. Just an effect of the job. I've seen that over the years. There are things you see that are just…"

She shook her head. "…Hard to handle."

He nodded, understanding.

"Maybe, Lucia. I know I'm a more than a little cynical, but I know what I'm hunting. This… it's too easy. The only semblance of organization was taking over the gym, but even that was hilariously easy to break up. Castelia also was mysteriously abandoned. This isn't like the Sayre followers in Jubilife, they'd risk their lives to carry the Tournament out. Don't you find that odd?"

Red eyes grew just a slight bit concerned. "Now that you mention it, I guess it doesn't make much sense. Now that operatives are here and in Castelia, they shouldn't be able to do much. Lightscreens and reflects are just about everywhere too. They abandoned their best chance at success. It does strike me as nonsensical, but I wouldn't worry too much."

Riven grimaced, swallowing with grim expectance. "No, I'm going to worry. Where's Will?"

"Getting food, said he was hungry. You should eat too. I'd call Gale over, but she's getting praised for taking down a Garchomp by herself."

A vein in his neck twitched. "She gives me headaches."

That little huff he did afterwards was just icing on the cake. Lucia had to giggle. Even under that menacing mercenary exterior, he was still Riven—in an endearing and dorky kind of way.

"She learns from her mentor, right?" She grinned, face hidden by a bowl of noodles. "Your unorthodox way of doing things can be inspiring."

"Efrain said the same thing, and it scares me. Universe likes to torture me in particular, so I doubt it'll let me die, but other people aren't so fortunate," he said. "I don't want to go through that again. Not a fourth time."

Lucia's smile fell. She looked down at the floor, mostly to avoid the pain of the past in Riven's face. She found herself doing that a lot with some of the older and more experienced UFOs.

"We live with those thoughts every day too, Riven. A lot of operatives die. This job is taxing, unforgiving, and dangerous… But I wouldn't imagine doing anything else. You just learn to live with it, even if it's hard. I've lost some friends out on the routes, and I still miss them. They were good people."

"They always are," Riven added. "That's the sad part."

He shook his head, swallowing.

"Enough about that, how are the UFOs going to handle this? A gym leader's pokemon got shot in public. And Baron kind of killed the kid. Might of made things worse but I'm a mercenary, so that won't be too much of a blow. Elesa's Zebstrika though… ouch."

"Tell me about it," Lucia said, exhaling in exasperation. "Going to be pretty wild in terms of media attention for the next month or two, assuming no incidents. And with the embargo on, the other regions are going to wonder what's going on. Six months is quite a long time to have every port and airport shut down. We can't really stop the internet, but if no one else knows anything it shouldn't leak out."

"Don't count on that. People are stupid, but they aren't that stupid."

"I'm not. Neither is the League. Unova is the region most able to deal with these types of threats. We're not going to let Sinnoh happen again."

"That's what worries me too," Riven muttered.

"Why?"

"Because they didn't choose Hoenn."

It would be the perfect candidate after all. The political climate in Hoenn was pretty much a deadlock between the Council and the League, and with the lax living attitudes of most Hoennites, rangers and gym leaders were usually enough when it came to peacekeeping. With the Magma's and Aquas gone, it was the region with probably the least amount of crime. Statistically, at least. There was no elite military organization like the UFO force, or the G-men from Johto. Weak and lax. An ideal target for destabilization.

But no. They chose Unova.

A lot could be said about a person. The way they dressed, carried themselves, spoke, acted, and even how and where their eyes and fingers moved. The same could be said for a terrorist group, depending on what target they chose and what that target's image represented. But targeting the strongest region?

Even the mightiest can fall. Let us show you, Riven mused, clenching a jaw. Lucia examined him briefly, but left him to his thoughts. She released her Mismagius and handed her the empty bowl, asking for seconds. The ghost eagerly took the bowl and floated over to the stand, startling some of the operatives.

People started to come out of the buildings, having gotten the all clear. They walked past the UFO checkpoint in the middle of the street, rushing home. They were horrified at the state of the streets, but didn't say a word.

The amount of people in a crowd was making Riven bristle, a little action Lucia noted.

"Calm down."

He ignored her, instead combing through the crowd with even more focus. "Watch the people coming out of the buildings for anything suspicious." Before she could stop him, he stood up and brought out Baron. "Baron, how well can you read someone's thoughts in a crowd?"

Red eyes blinked in thought. "Not as well as I could when I was a Kirlia. Evolving dulled them quite a bit. If I was a Gardevoir maybe but…"

"Try it anyway. If you pick up any hint of malice, let the others know, the barriers may protect from the outside in, but not from the inside out," Riven ordered. "We shouldn't trust civilians either. Could be decoys or the real threats."

Baron focused, sifting through multitudes of worries and thoughts of getting home and calling loved ones—a cascade of wonders about what was going on and what the UFOs were doing here. All of them seemed similar from what he gleaned in the river of thoughts, except for a stray whisper, in a corner of the street, beside Gale and a group of operatives.

Malice. Knowing. Intent.

"Gale!" He called out, and Riven spun around to face him. Before he could even mouth a question, an explosion tore through the building at the edge of the street, blowing debris and dust in every direction. Riven had already readied himself to rush over, but stopped as he saw Emile blow away the dust with a powerful swipe of his wings. A Golurk stood in front of them, having tanked the blast with little more than a shrug.

A fire broke out inside the building and UFOs rushed inside to get the people out from inside, using their pokemon to douse the flames.

Riven's eyes narrowed, mind working on overdrive. The operatives were out saving people, as was their job, but his was to figure out why this happened.

An explosion in a building? Random or planned? If they planned it, what good would that-

He went silent as the UFOs pulled in the injured, mostly young men in formal attire. From the look of their faces, they weren't any older than twenty-five. Too many of them for what seemed like a corporate building. A majority of the crowd was on the older side, people between their thirties and fifties with nine to five jobs. These young ones… they stood out. Perhaps it was just paranoia, but he couldn't help but suspect them.

The crowd stopped, turning to see the smoke and dying flames. Riven gestured to Lucia, who'd already called out her Accelgor and Braviary, ordering the bird to do a recon in order to find any fleeing bombers. She met up with him, pistol in hand.

"Any ideas?"

"Only that this doesn't make any damn sense?" He growled, watching the paramedics tend to the wounded. "Why set off an explosion like this if they weren't going to use the injured as a way to get inside the barrier? That's the only logical explanation."

"A diversion of a diversion," Lucia concluded. "Twice the confusion. Enough to fool someone like you."

"Yeah," Riven admitted with a grunt. "That kid in the gym, he said something to me."

"What kid?"

"The leader of the hostage takers. Before he was taken away by the UFOs. He said check. I believe that's chess for you're-about-to-get-fucked."

"Generally speaking, yes. Now where's the mate?" Lucia said, red eyes growing in concern. The grip on her pistol tightened and her Accelgor bristled.

Baron teleported beside Riven, panicked. "Everyone's thoughts are a mess, I can't get an accurate read right now. What do you want me to do? So much stress in the air… it's getting me anxious."

"Anxious? Ah, distressed crowd. Natural jammer for psychics. They just keep getting better, don't they?" Riven chuckled. "All the psychics in the world won't help us here."

"Riven?"

He held out a hand. "Hold on…" He looked over at the end of the street. "Alright, if anything appears below us or comes from the crowd, deal with it. Right now go straight to Gale. She doesn't have any pokemon with protect. I can use Efrain to protect myself, so don't worry about me. Will should be fine and Lucia is here with me, just focus on Gale and see if any of the UFOs that got hit by the blast need healing."

Baron nodded and disappeared in a pink flash, reappearing a distance away.

Riven drew Efrain, slipping into Sword's Dance to prepare himself for any surprises.

Lucia began to ready the others when a loud crashing of glass was heard high overhead. Out of the adjacent building to the right, a figure jumped out of the twentieth floor, silhouette blackened by the sun. A white glow enshrouded its right hand as it fell and Lucia realized what its goal was—the center of the barrier, where all the interlocking lightscreens and reflects converged.

Everyone thought that the formation was impenetrable, and for most intents and purposes, it was. Unless fighting types could fly high enough to break it, and with just the right strike. Highly improbable in the chaotic nature of an attack, but an overhead drop onto it with no one to stop it… breaking it was definitely possible. Improbability wasn't as synonymous with impossibility as everyone seemed to think. And with everyone in place… well-

Checkmate.

"It's going for the barrier! Ri-"

He was already on it, spinning a sword wreathed in shadows overhead. Energy pooled inward, turning the blade a deep purple as it began to rattle. He released it and swung downwards with both hands, unleashing a traveling cut through the air, just hoping he'd make it in time. She knew that he'd realized the weakness from the moment he saw the structure in the sun; he hardly missed anything, especially after feeling like a Rattatta in a trapped cage.

It was a bloody wonder how accurate that paranoia was.

The slash caught the attention of all the operatives, drawing their gazes upwards as the Shadow Claw tore through the air, advancing towards the figure.

Too late.

White, glowing hands made contact with shimmers and the protective formation shattered into pieces, every barrier dissipating into nothing more than shards of pink and white glass. A moment later, the shadow claw met its mark, slicing into the attacker in a spray of blood and shadows.

A Sawk fell from the sky, bloody and broken among the rain of gleaming glass.

"They're in the buildings!"

"Protect!"

"Get the civilians-"

What came next passed like a blur; a furious bellowing of orders, a storm of bullets, the whirring and odd clinking of shields made of protective energy, and beams that shook the ground and turned concrete to dust.

Efrain's protect disappeared as Riven caught sight of the Sayre followers and what appeared to be Singularity grunts up in the windows, holding rifles with pokemon snarling beside them. One glance at the ground and he could see injured operatives littering the floor, and that wasn't even counting the injured civilians.

Some of them wouldn't get up again.

"You take one side, I'll the other! Don't use fire pokemon!" Lucia called out to Riven, releasing Murphy. He nodded and brought out Haona.

The Absol snarled instantly as the smell of blood entered her nostrils. The humans in black had been ambushed. It didn't take much to figure that out once she spotted the attackers. Her trainer nodded grimly at her and threw Efrain like a javelin, sending the sword straight through a man's chest, disappearing a moment later.

There were more on the other floors, and Riven couldn't clear out three by himself. She shot an ice beam across the top and sides of the open windows, spreading ice to cover up the holes and break the humans' line of sight. Guns were dangerous, but they were worthless if you couldn't see the opponent. Even as a pokemon she knew that. After Forrina, it was recorded into her mind.

Behind her, electricity exploded into the building and screams rang out as men were electrocuted. A small blur of movement moved throughout one of the floors, dropping grunts and pokemon quickly and silently among flashes of green blades from a larger blue, Roland.

The surviving operatives had also joined in the fight, ordering their pokemon to fire back as they took cover. Soon enough, the entire street had turned into a delightful mix of a firefight, only with firearms and pokemon. Oh, and they had the height advantage.

At least Gale and Bib are okay. And that stupid Typhlosion, she noted after freezing over another floor. Will and Quil were battling on the ground level beside a massive Haxorus and a blonde human's Arcanine as the grunts and their pokemon moved to the ground level. Casca unleashed a torrent of pressurized water into the open windows, shattering glass, walls, and presumably flesh judging by the agonizing yells.

What a lovely scene.

Gale and Baron were flying in the sky on Emile and Kyne, dogfighting with other flyers. A Mandibuzz had gotten hit with Yukiko's ice beam, fell, and ended up a disgusting splat of red on the ground. The others that dropped out of the sky didn't end up much better, honestly.

Then the building where her trainer had run off too exploded as a wave of purple ripped through an entire floor, went out the other side, and trailed off into another building. Among the chaos, she had to snicker at the lead human in black, gawking at the extent of destruction. Lucia was dumbstruck too as another explosion followed, this time tearing upwards and downwards through five or more floors. That definitely got all the grunts in there, but left the building looking like it was about to cave in on itself.

The civilians began running towards them.

"Wait! Stop, it isn't safe!"

"Get back!"

"Calm down!"

Someone sprinted into the center and held up hands, a wickedly curved smile on his lips. Light pulsed in his palms and there was a flare of light, too blinding to make anything out. Haona's fur begin to sting and the very cells in her body began to break down and rupture, but just as the worst of it came, a shadow stepped in front of her, and she was sucked into the false reality of a pokeball.

---

Lucia opened her eyes, ignoring the pounding in her head from being flung back by whatever it was that emitted that light. Her forehead was bleeding and the rib area burned like mad. Bruised ribs or worse. She groggily and slowly tried to get onto her feet, falling once more when her legs quivered.

Focusing her vision, she felt slightly relieved when she saw her fellow operatives on the ground, still breathing, if in as much shock from the blast as she was. Will and his team were still off in the distance, fighting something… and her pokemon were as well. What about-

Riven.

He was on the floor too, coughing and spitting blood, whimpering in pain. A pokeball was beside him, and the visor was completely cracked on the left side. What appeared to be smoke rose from his body, and he couldn't seem to get up himself. His arms and legs shook, overtaken by muscle spasms.

That light… whatever it was didn't hit us too hard. But him… it's killing him.

One of the civilians—or so she thought-walked towards him, still grinning widely. His hands were a light pink, shining brightly. An odd line of light forked down from his forehead down to his chin, with several running down his arms, in a pattern that looked reminiscent of a tattoo and oddly similar to the lines she'd seen on the azure sphere.

"Oh look. Did I hit you too hard?" He asked. "Have another!"

He released another pulse of light, and Riven screamed. He coughed violently, supporting himself on an elbow to release another glob of crimson onto the ground. "Really like screwing with plans, huh? We'd have gotten Elesa by now, but you… Like a wrench in a machine. An annoying pest. It's no matter though, we got you right where we want you. After all, the UFOs are so predictable."

He tilted a head to see Riven weakly reach for Haona's pokeball, stuffing it into his coat, despite bleeding all over the floor.

"Tried to save your pokemon? How nice. Of course, you don't deserve them anyway. Losing a pokemon hurts, you know. But what's sadder than that? A team without their trainer, they just… shut down. Separate, go into the wild, become domestic… some even end their own lives, especially the loyal ones—the Absols, the Mightyenas, the Stoutlands. Just stop eating and die. No one would miss a mercenary anyway." He kicked Riven down, standing over him. He released a Hypno behind him. "Stop any of the UFOs from trying to shoot us. I want them to watch. Oh, I forgot. I'm Floette. Hello, mercenary. Have you seen this kind of power before? It's the future, and only those who deserve it and their pokemon will be blessed with it. Have another taste."

He held a finger to Riven's chest and pressed down, light glowing once again at the tip. Riven began to yell in agony, a sight which only made the operatives watching wince.

Lucia and the other drew their pistols, shooting uselessly at the human fairy as his Hypno effortlessly deflected the bullets with a Reflect. Growing bored, Floette knelt over Riven, and placed both hands on his neck, pressing downwards with glowing hands.

Riven writhed on the floor, trying for breath while the Fairy energy coursed through his body, sapping his strength to move. Jerking to the side for a second to dislodge Floette, he slipped a spiky clump of something into his mouth, swallowed, and managed to get a breath in before the strangling resumed.

Lucia felt like the ground had been swept out from under her as his hands went limp and his head rolled to the side, having lost the strength to resist. Riven wasn't breathing, just simply laid there while Floette checked his pulse and nodded decisively, smiling to himself. When Roland came to her side, she tried to charge, but was thrown back as he and the Hypno launched them back with a psychic.

Is he really dead? Riven… he's…

Floette tried to stand up, but desperate wheezing, a large inhale of air, and a strong hand stopped him from doing so.

"Huh?!"

Riven smiled through bloody teeth, still desperately trying to breathe. "Max revive. Surprise you fucking asshole."

A knife went through Floette's neck.

At the same time, a shadow extended from behind the Hypno, shifting in form and thinning against the light. Lucia grinned darkly when Efrain flew out the other side and into the back of the Hypno's head.

"Exploiting type weaknesses? Such a fucking dick... Well-" Riven coughed again, watching Floette's eyes bulging when the knife moved deeper. "I heard fairies just love steel." The knife came out of Floette's neck and was immediately buried into his gut, followed by a kick that shoved him off of Riven.

He got up slowly, blood shooting out of his neck and running down his hands. His skin began to glow, drawing more and more energy inside. Floette was screaming, yelling at Riven through the bleeding about Sayre's goals and legacy. He raised a hand to unleash the dazzling gleam from before, but was met by a volley of pistol shots, taking at least a dozen rounds to various parts of his body.

He fell slowly to the floor, a bloody dying mess.

Only the glowing didn't stop.

"Fuck… Lucia!" Riven called out, crawling away from Floette . He waved a hand, slashing the air furiously. "Get away! He's going to explode!" He tried to reach for Efrain, but found himself too weak to do so. His crawling slowed, cursing his legs as they felt like lead.

Lucia sent her pokemon to fight further up ahead before turning her attention to the other two operatives behind her. "Fero, Sabi, get the others the hell away from here! Find some cover!"

"And what about you, you're going back for that mercenary? He's half dead!"

"Go!"

"Roland, get me over there!" Her Sceptile nodded fiercely, picking her up and quickly dropping her beside Riven as he used the buildings to head over the other end of the block. Floette's body continued to glow and shine, enough that it started to burn her retinas. She propped Riven up on a shoulder, noting that he was passing in and out of consciousness, and ran over to a building whose shadow was being cast on the floor. With every step, he whimpered from the pain, despite having no superficial wounds.

"I'm sorry, Riven. I know it hurts."

"Just… keep going. Don't worry 'bout me..."

Swallowing thickly, Lucia picked up the pace, trying to block out his grunts of pain. He looked like hell and probably felt like it too. She'd never thought she'd see someone vomit blood.

Down the block, Will's eyes widened as he saw Lucia carrying a limp Riven away from Floette's body. Riven had explained what happened to people who tried to use up too much power, and how devastating the surrounding explosion could be. One look at the Mauville power plant's giant hole was all he needed to run a mental picture.

If she doesn't get him to safety, they're both dead. Abandoning all thoughts, he was about to channel a quick attack into his legs in a bid to reach them both regardless of what anyone saw. A strong hand held him back, throwing him on the floor. Yates stood in front of him, shaking his head.

"Stay. Here!"

"That's my sister! Let me go! She's going to-"

"Kid, no! You can't die too. Your sister wouldn't want you dying too! Stay here!" Yates glanced back at the dead body, which at this point looked about ready to explode. "Protects up!" He ordered, shoving Will back into his Typhlosion.

As light engulfed the street, Lucia stabbed a blade into the ground and dropped into a shadow, not caring where she went.

---

When the light faded, a massive crater remained where Floette had been. The surrounding buildings and the concrete had been peeled away, immolated and turned into slag. Cars were reduced to metallic heaps of parts, thrown against the destroyed remains of the buildings. A glowing crystal sat in the center of the crater, shining with swirls of colors. When the operatives refocused their vision and the protects came down, they were shocked to see nothing but blackened stains where some of the grunts and the civilians had been; they weren't just blown clear, they got vaporized.

"That was quite a light show. We did warn him, what an idiot."

They turned around, pointing their guns at a white-haired man with magenta eyes. He held his hands in his pockets, expressing disgust at the smell in the air. Something about him was off, and it was more than his abnormal appearance. He waved back at them. Magenta eyes watched as Gale and Baron landed, narrowing slightly.

"Are you a Sayre follower too?" Yates demanded, not for one second easing up.

The man chuckled, as if hearing a funny joke. Still, he said nothing, instead choosing to smirk at them.

The operatives began spreading out, surrounding him but still keeping a considerable distance. Their pokemon did the same, not making any sudden moves in case he had any tricks up his sleeve. He noticed, but slipped his free hand back into his pocket.

"What's your name?" Yates asked. "And-"

"-What do I want with Nimbasa?" The man yawned. "That is what you were going to say?"

"How did you know that?"

"I know what all of you are thinking," he said matter-of-factly. "None of it is going to work, especially that little maneuver of yours." He pointed to a random operative in the group. "Hey, Mackenzie, how's that little girl of yours? The one that wanted to see Elesa perform today? Your eldest turns sixteen next week?"

The operative froze, steeling himself. The mysterious man rolled his eyes and shrugged easily.

"I told you, I know what you're all thinking."

"You're an esper," Yates concluded. "That's how you know. Telepathic type. Must be useful in your line of detestable work. Is terrorism fun for you? Is that what this is about?"

"Terrorism? How petty. That changes nothing, what I'm after you couldn't possibly understand. You've never met an esper like me before. No one has. I don't have to tell you anything, I just have to show you that there is nothing you can do." He brought out a hand, and clawed his fingers inward. At the same time, a signpost bent inward on itself, contorting horribly as it packed into itself, as if being crushed by an invisible force. Magenta eyes had taken a blue tinge, hinting at psychic power.

Silent gasps came from the operatives, and their pokemon seemed more than enough confused from seeing a human bending iron and steel into a ball with his mind. Usually only Alakazam did that, and even then it was offputting. Human espers were weak telepaths at best, and telekinetics could do no more than lift a ball or a desk a few feet. The most powerful human espers known were much stronger, obviously, but nowhere near this level. Psychic power like that was only ever seen in pokemon, and strong, at least victory road level. For a human to have this… it was likely a continuation of Team Rocket's work, or some form of genetic experimentation to amplify an esper's power. It could certainly explain the white hair and odd appearance—if that was the case, then it was more than just regional safety at this point. Should the Plasmas, Rockets, and Sayre followers work together, that would be a combination that neither operative, trainer, or nontrainer would want. More specifically, the training world would implode on itself—first from the Sayre followers, then the Plasmas, and finally… the experimentation of the Rockets.

Yates held his jaw and composure as the esper gave him a knowing look, tapping his forehead with a finger. "Excellent deduction, Yates. It seems someone can put two, three, and four together." He gave a bow. "I'm Loberia, the white esper."

Gale's eyes widened and Loberia snapped his attention to her, smiling. "Ah, Gale, is it? You seem to know my name. I wonder how you got hold of it before-hand? Now, I'm guessing that you and whoever else is in league with you are the ones who tipped off the UFOs that something was happening. Snitches. Ruined our plans really, but we'll make it work regardless." He gestured to the crater. "That test run was immensely informative."

"Test run?! That was a human bomb!"

"Exactly as I said," Loberia huffed, rolling his eyes again. "Test run. Little project of ours that still needs some refining. He was a fool regardless, not worth crying over something worthless. He was an avid believer in someone who's dead. Don't need crazy like that. No harm done, right?"

"Innocent people are dead, and your own as well. Do you care nothing about them?"

"They're beneath me, so it doesn't matter." He chuckled as he read Will's thoughts. "Nice thinking, kid. I'm an asshole?"

"Pretty much," Will said plainly. Quil bristled, exhaling flame. "Textbook definition. Major dick."

Loberia couldn't help but laugh, but the UFOs were as stone-faced as ever. Pokemon snarled at him, and pistols clicked in anticipation.

"Now, I wasn't supposed to show myself to you, but I grew a little bored of watching pawns get torn to pieces by all of you. And, I'm very, very pissed about something."

Baron reacted and swung upwards with a bladed elbow as Loberia teleported beside Gale and grabbed her by the arm, holding her in the pathway of the blade. Baron halted and cursed when Loberia grinned and returned to his original position, holding Gale in his grip.

"I've unfinished business with y-"

Gale twisted around his arm, elbowing him in the diaphragm and stomping on his ankle with as much force as she could muster. Loberia grunted as a knee came up and struck him in the mouth and nose, followed by an uppercut to his ribs. He tried backing away, but was met with a kick to the stomach that sent him lurching back. Baron rushed in, green blades glowing pink.

Both Baron and Gale were held in their place as a psychic force prevented them from moving. Loberia looked angrily back up at Gale, eyes glowing a bright blue. He turned his attention to Baron first, struggling against Baron's own psychic, managing to break through and launch the Gallade back where the operatives stood and into a car.

Now eyeing Gale, he wiped the blood from his mouth and nose, nostrils flaring. "Didn't know you could fight. Such a pity it won't help you." He moved her closer to him, looking straight into her eyes—blue lined magenta into light gray. "You took down my Garchomp," he hissed. "Froze him solid after he fell from the sky. You bitch. Did you know he's dead? Did you know you killed him? Or did you not bother to check, just like all the other trainers? Unlike your frail, meager bodies, a dragon is deserving of respect, and he was no different. He was mine."

"Says the one who abandoned him mid-flight," Gale bit out, laughing in his face. "That's... pathetic. Followers were right, you don't deserve your pokemon." Emile was getting ready to fly over, as was Kyne, but Gale signaled them to stop with a shake of her head.

Stay back. Please.

Loberia grinded his teeth together and with a flick of the wrist, a shifting blade of psychic energy formed. It changed from a straight edge onto an undulating edge with sickening curves. "I was going to kill you quickly, but now I see you should suffer. Then you can see my pain!" He thrust his hands forward, impaling Gale through the stomach with it, an expression of utter satisfaction as she whined silently from the pain. He pulled it out from her, letting her drop to the floor with a push.

Emile and Kyne charged with a cry of panic and fury, closing in with Brave Bird.

Loberia simply stood there and waited. When the birds got close, electrified webs came down from atop a building, capturing both birds and shocking them into the ground. They landed near their bleeding trainer, losing their strength the more electricity flowed into them.

Clapping, the esper laughed at how easy it was, and how horrified the operatives were. But that kid in front of the large, imposing operative… his expression was the best. He snorted like a fucking asshole. "Oh, was that your friend? Well, she's dying now. If you got an ambulance here she might just survive. Not that I would let you anyway. I want you to watch her die, dear William."

Will clenched a fist, skin turning white as he snuffed the beginnings of flames and exhaled steam. Quil was equally as enraged as he was, and Casca saw the state her trainer was in, settling into a stance as well. Baron limped up to Will, crimson eyes hurt and angry.

Get me to her, Will. I can block out his influence from reading your mind. He's stronger than me with his psychic, but even the best psychic can't focus with fire coming at them. Cover each other so he doesn't isolate one of us. Surprise him.

Will and the other operatives ordered their pokemon forward, careful not to aim their attacks at Gale. Loberia side stepped most of them easily, but once they got close a wave of psychic energy pushed them back repeatedly, holding them at bay. It wasn't damaging, just extremely annoying. Quil shot a plume of fire at him, but the very air the fire traveled in was simply swatted aside with a shove of an arm.

"Man, fuck psychics," Will said, eyeing Gale on the floor with concern. She held her hands to the wound—which were stained a deep red—and breathed slowly. She looked up into the sky, glassy-eyed. "Hold on… We're coming. Just hold on. Riven's down at worst, and now Gale…"

Psycho cuts clashed and sparked as Baron and Loberia crossed blades, being the only pokemon that could get through the telekinetic wall of go-fuck-yourself that the esper had set up. Baron was stronger physically, overpowering the human and driving him back. Inversely, Loberia's psychic was stronger and constantly kept Baron back with momentary holds of psychic when he got too close.

Baron began to understand why Riven hated psychics. Is this what Aine felt like? Never being able to get close to do anything meaningful? God, it was a dick move. And utter bullshit.

Will was right. This guy was an asshole. Even worse, though—a cheating asshole.

Didn't matter, since he was close enough to get what he came for. Baron flashed next to Loberia, feigning another spinning psycho cut, instead aiming to get him away and to the right. If he had any sort of combat training, the reflexes themselves would prompt him to do it on well… reflex. Baron's guess proved true as Loberia stepped to the side to avoid the first slash and rolled backward to avoid the overhead smash, just as Baron had predicted.

Baron turned on a heal, picking up Gale gently and teleporting her over to the safety of the operative side. Immediately he begin to apply heal pulse, grimacing at the amount of blood he could see from the wound in her stomach.

Loberia smiled and laughed to himself, pointing a finger at Baron. "Oh, you tricky Gallade. Your trainer has been teaching you some dirty things. You fight almost like a dark type." Energy pooled into a palm, and he directed the glowing palm at Emile and Kyne, still trapped in the electrified webbing. "Save her, but can you save them? I can fight like a dark type too."

Casca and Quil tried a last ditch effort of hydro pump and flamethrower, but the end result was the same. The water and fire was simply blown to the side, leaving Loberia completely unharmed as a psybeam charged at a helpless Emile and Kyne.

A rainbow colored beam of destruction shot out of his hands, ripping the concrete and distorting the air as it traveled. The attack howled as it crashed into something and bent, forking outward to the sides.

A blood soaked mercenary stood before Loberia, extended hand blocking the psybeam as it traveled around him, destroying the building behind him as well as the arms of his coat, leaving him completely unharmed, as if the move had no effect on him.

Which it didn't. The force of it was still there though.

"Did he just… stop that psybeam with his hands?" Mackenzie gaped. "Who the hell are these people?"

"You wouldn't believe it if we told you," Will said, gesturing for the pokemon to get ready. "Now that he's here that guy's fucked."

Loberia backed away, eyes glowing a deep blue. Riven wasn't fazed, lips curled upward in a slight snarl. The psychic bounced off him, and Loberia shook his head furiously in complete disbelief. "No… one of them? You're not supposed to exist! The Rose's saw to that!"

Riven didn't say a word-not even a growl- as a rising darkness seeped from around him, contrasting with the light of day. It touched the repelling psychic barrier, dissipating it with ease. Loberia held his head, groaning at the dark influence flooding his mind. The Elgyem that clung to Pershing's pants let out a piercing shriek and all the psychics around the operatives fell to the floor, grunting and hissing from the aura.

"The hell's going on? The psychics are going nuts. Is it because of him?"

"I've heard about this from a friend in Kalos. When a legendary went berserk over there, the psychics did too, all hit the floor and starting screaming in agony. He said it felt terrible, just like right now. Something… evil. And from the looks of that thing, it probably is. Everyone's going to think we've gone insane."

They recalled their pokemon, partly in fear that it would cause them to go berserk as well. White-haired dickbag didn't have that luxury, fortunately enough. Small act of god, it seemed.

A knife emerged from Riven's coat, quickly becoming enshrouded in a pitch black aura. Traces of white light shone around his feet as quick attack improved his movements, closing the distance between him and the esper. He stopped momentarily, halted by a psychic force.

Magenta eyes glowed blue, with a white pupil in the shape of a sun. Miracle eye.

The dark aura increased, engulfing Riven and reforming into what looked like the appearance of a black demon, with horns and wings. A red eye looked back into Loberia's own and a night slash carved through an entire wall and most of the floor; its shockwave continue along across the building, ripping a deep scar through it that dropped the jaws of the operatives.

Scrambling as his psychic attacks did absolute shit to Riven, he brought out a pokeball, bringing out a Heracross. It saw the distressed state its trainer was in and charged, horn extending outward. Riven simply side-stepped it and gripped the horn with black claws; he lifted, orienting his body to take advantage of the Heracross' weight, flipping the bug onto the floor with enough force to crack the ground beneath them. He turned away, as if considering a dual bug and fighting type was no threat.

The Heracross attempted to charge Riven, but was tackled to the ground by Quil, and with fangs of fire, Quil bit into the exoskeleton, unleashing a flare of flames from his mouth.

The air smelled like burning chitin.

Riven once again leapt forward, reaching out with blackened claw. Loberia's body flashed in preparation to teleport, but a clawed hand gripped his wrist, and the teleport fizzled uselessly.

Can't teleport a dark type, Will recalled. But Riven… is that the Nightmare? Only made sense, really. Dark types were usually very strong physical attackers, and if the same logic applied to humans, then that meant they were pretty damn strong physically. Not as durable as say, a fighter, but strong enough to cause serious damage. The only downside was their durability and frailty, something Will doubted Riven had going for him. If anything, he'd ran out of juice soon. And when that happened… bad news. Until then, all he had to do was pummel psychic bastard's face into the fucking dirt with extreme prejudice.

And Riven hated wasting time. A crazy Riven? Even less so.

Loberia desperately tried to break away from the demon's grip, but screamed as he crushed the bones in his wrist. "Play quite rough, don't you? Women must love you."

Riven responded by trying to stab a longer knife into Loberia's side, struggling against the psychic affected by the miracle eye. The knife broke skin, but didn't penetrate deep organs. A crackling was heard and Riven back away when lightning exploded where he was standing.

Blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sky stared down at Riven from atop a building, a Luxray by his side. He wasn't smiling as he usually was, but looked rather displeased. He noticed the operatives and their pokemon slowly surrounding Loberia, and with a movement of the head, ordered him to back off. Breathing labored, Loberia disappeared with a teleport, reappearing beside Tesla and promptly vanishing as an Alakazam teleported them away.

Darkness receded and flowed away into nothingness, revealing a weak looking Riven underneath, barely able to stand on his two legs.

Riven watched as Baron held healing hands over Gale, and he muttered something under his breath to himself.

I told you… and you didn't listen. Keep her alive. Please.

He reclined against a wall, finally giving in to his body. Quil came over to him, picking him up and hoisting him up onto his back.

As he carried him back down the ruins of the street, the sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance.

---

This took ages to come out because real life has been hitting me hard. And by hitting me hard I mean work, all STEM classes, having to rewrite this multiple times because of assorted mishaps when falling asleep without saving the bloody thing, and generally just trying to tailor the chapter the way I want it.

Also, Dark Souls 3, Gears 4 beta, and Overwatch ate a hell of a lot of time. DS3 in particular. Sorry this took FOREVER to get out. I'll probably release the next chapter in a few days, since it'll be shorter, with the one after being longer.

Will look through this for typo's later.