"Mister Bilgun, you have been accused of shooting harmless Swablu with a bow and arrow for sport," Elera says. "How do you plead to these heinous crimes?"

"It wasn't for sport!" the man yells, his voice scratchy from hours of screaming. "I told you that already. I shot at them because they wouldn't stop eating my Tomato Berries. I have to be able to grow them, or I won't have enough food to survive through the cold winter months."

Elera motions with her head. The long vine extending from Spikey's head grows larger. With a cry, Spikey brings the vine crashing down on Phel Bilgun's back. Spikey winces in pain at the recoil effect, but exhales with relief a moment later as the seed that has sprouted around Phel's legs digs deeper into his skin, transferring his energy to Spikey and healing its wounds.

"But, as I understand, you were laughing as you shot at them," Elera continues, unfazed by the whimpers of pain coming from the man she has tied to what she calls the Post of Truth. "Why would you laugh if you were so concerned for your crops?"

"Haven't you ever heard a joke?" The man coughs twice before spitting a mouthful of blood onto the already stained grass. "It may have been the wrong time, but my family and I were trying to make light of a bad situation. My wife made a joke and I laughed. That's no crime, you psychotic b—"

"Mister Bilgun, did you notice anything different about one of the Swablu you attacked?" Elera asks, cutting him off. "Perhaps one that stared at you a little bit more than the others? One that seemed to be examining your every move? You should have, if you are observant at all, that is."

"What the hell are you talking about? They're all the same."

Elera whirls on her heel and slaps Phel across the face with the back of her hand, his teeth crunching together at the unexpected blow. "That is where you're wrong," she says, composing herself as she wipes the blood from her hand. "Each pokémon is as different as each human. They share some similarities, sure, just as you and I do. However, their personalities range from hateful scum like yourself to those who wish to see the world changed into a place welcoming to all, like me. So no, they are not 'all the same.' In fact, I think one of those Swablu you attacked may be here with us right now. Come on out, Zorry."

A Swablu files from behind a small shrug, its white wings rippling in the soft breeze as sunlight reflects off its blue body. A chirp rings from its mouth as it flies over and lands atop Phel's head.

Elera crouches down until her eyes are level with her victim's. "Do you remember?"

"I don't," he says, tears forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Elera shakes her head and clicks her tongue. "Wrong answer, Mister Bilgun. It's a good thing we brought you here today. Is my intel correct? You have three children, no?"

"Don't you go near them!"

"That is a 'yes,' then." She steps back as the Swablu hops down from his head and lands in the grass between them. "Don't worry, I won't touch them. In fact, I helped them. No child should have to grow up with a sick, murderous father like you. I know you killed those Swablu because you thought it was fun. I watched you. I'm just glad I sent Zorry in to protect the ones that it could. Unfortunately, it couldn't save them all. It's not too happy about that, are you Zorry?"

The cry Swablu delivers doesn't sound like it should come from such a small pokémon.

"I didn't think so," Elera says. "Why don't you take care of this one?" Her eyes meet Phel's for the last time. "Like I said, I'm going to make this world a better place. It's a shame you won't be here to see it."

In an instant, the Swablu grows into the shape of Zorry, now fully evolved. Its white and red fir streams all around it, raised on end despite the calm air in the room. Phel calls out in fear as Zorry steps forward, its sharp claws held between them. Dark energy surrounds Zorry and creeps toward Phel, slowly enveloping him as his screams reach a bone-chilling pitch. The fur on Zorry's back glows and pulses as its hatred spews forth and eats away at Phel from within. The attack lasts just a few seconds, leaving only a still, depleted corpse in its wake.

#

"It seems you've made quite the name for yourself."

Elera glances at the poster in Matt's hand, an extremely accurate likeness of her face with the words Warning: Extremely Dangerous written above it. "Good. They should fear me."

"Are you sure fear is the right option?"

"Matt, we have been over this," Elera says. "The only way the people of this region will ever learn is through fear and forced acceptance. If it were up to them, they would wipe pokémon from the face of the planet and live alone on an empty world. These people need to feel the pain and hurt they inflict on pokémon. I don't like the death and the torture any more than you, but it's what needs to be done."

Matt steps aside as a Team Burn grunt enters Elera's quarters carrying a tray complete with a minuscule bowl of soup and half of a slice of bread. "Is that the ration for today, then?" he asks as the grunt leaves.

"It is."

"We need to hunt." He steps closer, his eyes focused directly on Elera's. "I know you said that it's harming the pokémon, but the rest of Team Burn is going to starve. Either that, or they'll abandon you. You've done great work as the leader of this group, but you're losing them. Crops aren't growing this time of year and our stores are running dangerously low with all of the new recruits. Your people need more food."

"We do not harm pokémon."

"Why not?" Matt blurts. "When it's necessary, why don't we harm pokémon? They harm each other. They hunt each other. It is part of the natural system of the world. If Axey was living in the wild, it would be hunting all kinds of pokémon. It's not just the people here that need to eat. The pokémon need food, as well."

Elera glares at him, her anger rising at his insubordinate. She glances to Axey. It doesn't move, but she can sense the pain it feels. After so long spent together, the two have become like one. With a sigh, her head drops. "Very well." Looking up, she meets Matt's eye, her icy stare piercing into his core. "But if I find out even one more pokémon is killed than we need, you will be the first to face the consequences."

Leaving Matt to contemplate her threat, Elera storms out of the throne room with Axey following close behind her. She has no need for security. No one in Team Burn would dare challenge the hulking black pokémon.

"Elera?" A voice calls from the end of a hallway. "There you are. Your next gathering is set to begin soon. We must get you into the courtyard."

"Yes, thank you, Emise," Elera says, still seething at the order she had to give.

The short woman with rippling muscles and inky black hair passes a scroll with a planned speech to Elera before crossing another item off the list of tasks on her own scroll. She motions to the written words. "It is quite good," she says. "I made one or two small edits, but this one really shows your knowledge as well as your passion."

"Perhaps it will finally get through to them," Elera mutters. "Something has to."

Sunlight streaming through the open doors momentarily blind Elera as she emerges into the bright courtyard of the long-abandoned Pokéball Factory. Well over a hundred individuals from local villages have crowded into a small pavilion, where a stage of crates and equipment has been erected. The rabble dulls to a low murmur as Elera approaches, diminishing to an occasional hushed whispers when she takes her place upon the makeshift podium.

"Thank you for coming," she begins. "As I look around at you all, I see many things. Farmers. Builders. Cooks. Cleaners. Survivors. All of these things are true. But I also see something else. I see killers."

The panic is clear on the faces of the villagers. Promised an educational opportunity at the hands of a rising figure in the Domains of Kalos, Elera can see how they fear her. It seems her brutality and intimidation tactics have garnered more fear than reverence. Do they respect her? Are they actually here to learn about pokémon? Or are they afraid of what might happen if they don't come?

"Pokémon have existed in this land for as long as humans, if not much longer, according to the history we know," she continues. "Why is it then, that we believe ourselves to be destined to control the area? Should the pokémon not have equal claim to this space, these resources?"

Elera speaks for nearly an hour, taking the role of both authoritarian and educator, though her anger continues to precede her reason. As she shares facts about pokémon she finds to be fascinating, she is met with only blank stares. But when her energy is elevated, when she speaks of destroying those who would cause unnecessary harm to pokémon, the people react. They wince and start at her barked words. They cower and sweat as she paces through the crowd to look them in the eye.

She is trying to teach these people that pokémon and humans can, and should, live in harmony, protecting and providing for one another. They don't want to hear it, though. As she steps down from the podium, bows, and enters the main factory complex to a light, unsteady applause, she is more confident than ever that fear of retaliation is the only way to get through to these people. At least for now. Perhaps, once they are under her rule, she can finally begin their education in earnest. Until that day comes, however, she must use whatever force necessary to protect the pokémon of this region.

Emise enters the throne room a short time after Elera, scrolls in hand. "Seventeen have officially joined our cause," she says, her eyes never rising from the paper. "Though I an inclined to believe there will be many more after the attendees return to their villages. Congratulations, Elera."

"Seventeen? Is that all?" Elera slams her empty teacup to the floor, shattering the clay into hundreds of tiny pieces as a sharp crack reverberates through the large space. "It is not enough. If we are truly to make a difference, we need a force large enough to take on the other Domains. We need people who truly care. Do these villagers really think life would be better without pokémon? Because that is the path we walk, if the world continues this way. Human life and pokémon life were already nearly wiped out once, and it is bound to happen again. Something must change. We must be that change."

"If Matt were here, he would say that perhaps it is us who needs to change."

"Thank you, Rotom," Elera says sarcastically. "I know what Matt would say, but Matt is wrong. I have tried to teach through passion and understanding, but the people only understand fear. They feared Team Burn before, and they listened to them. They fear the other leaders in the other Domains who threaten to invade this territory. They fear pokémon. Fear is ingrained in them. I wish we could appeal through some alternative, like relief from fear, but they just don't trust it."

The Rotom uses the voice box of the Pokédex it inhabits to sigh. "I truly hope we can one day change their minds."

"As do I, Rotom. As do I."

The screen of the Pokédex brightens. "Perhaps that is beginning to take place. There is a local villager who wants to hire the Team to complete a job. He actually asked for you, specifically."

"Really?" Elera says. "What is the job?"

"Apparently, a gang of pokémon overtook the town." Rotom pulls up a roughly drawn map of the area, highlighting the location of the village. "The group is led by two wild pokémon, but the villager didn't know the species. He just said one of them is, and I quote, 'puffed up with a big sucker' and the other one is 'tall and thin with big antennae.' I know that isn't much to go on, but that is all the information I have."

Elera considered the situation for a moment before responding. "He didn't say anything about the other pokémon there with them?"

"Nothing, other than the fact there are quite a few of them."

"Very well," she says. "I accept. I will depart within the hour. Please inform Matt that he is in charge while I am gone. And do ask him not to destroy the place, would you?"

"You got it."

"Thank you, Rotom."

"Of course," the pokémon replies. "Anything for you and for Team Burn." Elera and Emise leave to gather her pokémon partners, leaving Rotom floating alone in the cavernous throne room of the former Pokéball Factory. "They're gone," Rotom says to the shadowed figure crouching beneath the cover of the ruined equipment. "Gather the others. We have work to do."