Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ +Memory+Tower+ ❯ Pillar II: Annoh's Silver Duel ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: I'm pretty proud of this chapter since I think it's in a much better style than my last chapter. I wrote most of it about a year ago, so I think my abilities changed a bit since then. I also think I'll be using the one scene here --Spilt-- one scene here and so forth for reasons obvious in the next couple of chapters. And if you didn't notice last chapter, this is a very mystery centric story, so a lot of the things you might hear now may not be fully understood until the middle of the story or later. It's not going stay this mysterious forever, as you'll see in Pillar IV, and will more or less be attuned to one of the more popular styles of pokemon fanfiction.

And this chapter registered about 22 pages in Microsoft Word. If you don't have to read long chapters like this, I can assure you that a majority of my chapters will register over 10 pages because of my style. I just find it easier to write that way, one because I add more things in it, and two because it will hopefully destroy my worries of having 100-something chapters (a lot happens, in my opinion) for people to read through. But anyway, if you've managed to stave through my ramblings, kudos to you! Enjoy.

 

Memory Tower

 

Pillar II: Annoh's Silver Duel

 

Swirling leaves buffeted the outer reaches of the darkened sea vigorously. Within the ocean of black downy, a certain mecha was swiftly skimming the top plate of water in intense concentration. It masterfully dodged the violent whirlpools scattered along the frontline of a lightened mass up ahead, the raft bound tightly close behind under its bindings, fortunately not disrupting the ragged customer in embossing sleep. The sky was now only just reaching out of the night and heading towards morning by the dim stretch of orange sunrise glittering across the clouds. The raft and its bearer lowered their speed, and glided gently onto the watery mirror below them towards the glowing being before them.

 

Corridors of sunlight slowly spread its bearings along the plain of blue in a peachiest mesh of color, flickering along the stable forewings of the iron bird in divine reflection. The two briskly halted among waters. The venture ahead was still just as dim as the night before, and dawn had only unleashed its virtue even more. The juggernaut had decided to sit for a moment along the drenched floor of the raft, stretching out lazily for a well- deserved rest on its midnight revue. It pecked at its iron side for a bit and scattered the heels of red metal together in a soothing clack of relaxation. Up ahead, beyond the galloping waves of leisurely blue lay something else the two had wished to reach besides more mileage. In front of the blazing sun overhead, a solid, auburn pillar lay glowing in a transcendent barrage of regal vibrancies.

 

It's piercing crimson eyes glazing the many shades of light around the pillar, the steel doused bird began with a steady up rise into the air and under it's yellow reigns, took off in a fierce glide, pinning the raft to itself thistly by the wind. After another five minutes or so, the sea had lightened up in the gentle sunlight. You could see its basking cerulean glow through the dusted daybreak breaching across the leftover blackness. The bird and it's chained follower stopped right before the pillar in mid fluorescent blaze, and examined it quickly while it's reflection lay among the pillar's pure white sheet of phosphorescence. But it ignored the inquiry, and took eyed the pillar with an eerie suspicion.

 

The raptor's wings had an opaline zing around it's edges, as the brazen figure coolly raised its left annex into the air before the pillar, the exact same that had the cargo intercom locked onto it.

 

“Solange” A muffled voice stated grimly to the column before, waiting diligently for any response. Sure enough, the obelisk began to rumble a bit in the voices adherence. A thick line of light blue dripped down the fronted lobe of the pilaster's circumference, and another line of the same separated from the main root in several branches, dividing the pillar into many disfigured boxes.

 

Seeping freckles of color spurted out of malformed shapes, and slowly, but surely, the pier began division in half to each side. A darkened screen glittered with speckled fuzz was revealed in the airspace between the two halves. More static burred and hummed along it's own world as two eager pairs of eyes watched on.

 

“Strike, verification.” A lifeless voice said from the screen in a dreary tone. The hawk slowly unfurled its rapid wings from the troublesome rope, and turned around to face the wall outlined in blue again.

 

--

 

Grudging feet grazed the plain of ragged, ivory carpets stretching beyond a hall of murky red. Everywhere was splattered with simplistic designs of diamond figures dotted in a theme of sorts, aimed within a small range of mirthless gratitude. A small triangular clip with a dotting headphone bud was fitted nicely along the side of his paler white complexion and into his ear, though thoroughly hidden by his long locks of streaming silver hair nicely falling down his sides.

 

His incandescent amber eyes shone with a gritty street hood as his own sterling bristles fell greyly in front, and making him grudgingly push them to the side. His hair always did that, the neatly strewn expanse of moonlight gray having been bunched up in the far back of his head in at least fives spikes of resplendence springing off in a multitude of directions, though neatly locked together by a firm, black pad of fabric wrapping around the outer edge of the spectacle tightly, while still allowing the rest of such to fall carelessly into a shy bit below his shoulders.

 

Thoughts pulsed through his brain, each more worrisome than the last. He couldn't believe the circumstance. A year felt so long since he'd seen that face, those eyes, that smile.. It was almost laughable if it wasn't so sad that he had thought just three months ago he would never see those things again.

 

Presently, a shadowed door blanketed in a coat of hazel paint, oh so screaming the torture time had condemned on it and covered in a shower of strewn out flakes, had revealed itself. The fleshed out beige slippers sown tightly with a scarlet length had stopped now before the weeping structure upon it's withering avenue.

 

Maybe, he was just getting his hopes up for nothing. All that time he kept saying to himself, it would never happen, it would never happen.. The nights spent longing to see him again, the tinges of guilt every memory gave him. He couldn't think of it now, not in front of him. Even if the idea seemed so distant.

 

Slowly, the man in enigma placed his white, thread stitched glove trailing down to his wrist upon the rusted doorknob, and turned, a silent worried. Everything was so tattered, so dark. The walkers cloak clearly shared the same embrace. It was completely decked out over his shoes, and going a bit far past the rim of his opal gloves. In fact, a light shade of sinful burgundy, antagonizing turquoise, and the on stretch of saffron gloom scattered about was placed in a rectangle montage at the end of his wrists facade, a dull red line separating it from the rest of the outfit.

 

The details seemed to escape him. The lead Prospector never told him what really happened. His equals had only told him the vaguest form of truth. The scattered bits of “He'll tell you then” and “On the seventh, on the seventh! ” to every obvious question that was bound to come up. Maybe he thought it was just to size him up. Make it less of a shock. But it never really went away.

 

The cloak bore a color of clouded slate-quite concurred with its fine chrome (and fully unlinked) zipper stretching almost up from the hood until the guises end. Underneath that was a mere cool green t-shirt, and a pair of light brown pants. But the centerpiece of the entire get-up was a nicely carved, palatalized nickel chain, forming a small bridge from each side of the owner's breasts, but still keeping a relatively short distance in-between. A slightly tall bead of ash plated metal served as the handles for fastening the pressure when needed around the coat. His appearance to most was of a martyr dressed in his clothes of personified darkness.

 

But that didn't matter now. No, he wouldn't show weakness in front of him. Tomorrow would come, either way.

 

The tightly fastened gloves curved around the nub with a firm grips, and sluggishly shifted the member of iron. It glided open with a lowly enthusiasm, and was accompanied by the arrival of some weak foreshadowing's of light. He lifted his face up from the ground in jaded haste, and looked straight ahead and up around the room to see that it was an exact copy of the hall before, but much in more diminished stature. A faded lamp strung up by a loose, copper twine, with another of the same hung next to it in opposite apparel.

 

The sight foremost was a basic brick painted desk set in large legs of hickory, and a masked figure of inky haze, for lights had not been stringed up in the sect of such territory.

 

“Hm, Thirteen?” Said a voice out from the darkened vastness hidden beyond the coldest shade's reign. It seemed to stretch out as a quite tall creature, but not too much. The unrecognizable face of the unseen palm of its hand reached out to touch the desk as he twiddled about in what seemed like a brash, honeyed lounge chair.

 

“Yes sir. I've come as requested.” The other said, now only a fleeting inches from another's workplace. His face stood sodden with latent emotion.

 

“I assume you've been briefed, Thirteen?”

 

 He nodded lowly, but then turned his head up to conclude, “Not, completely sir.”

 

 “Ah, I see. I suppose I couldn't expect Nine and Twelve to describe such an important mission they hadn't been apart of before.”  A shrouded hand, wrapped up in a small package of gnarled gauze-like banners of ivy directed itself over to the corner of the room, where a small, upright chair lay undisturbed. “Please, take a seat. I assure you, I'll be able to elaborate in a much more clearer fashion.”

 

“Yes.” The younger man agreed, and obediently dragged the stronger bench over in within the right space in front of the higher desk.

 

“So where shall I begin? You remember the days of the Memory Tow-“ But the deeper voice was cut off by the deeply anxious and convulsed sound of his guest.

 

“Yes. I'd rather you not speak of it.” The other personage blocked out with a provoked tone, slightly shifting his feet to the left in hardened reaction.

 

The sheltered outline was taken back for a moment, but quickly responded afterwards with, “Of course, of course my dear. No one should ever relive bad memories. Unless..” Thirteen struck a stiff gaze at the other's sight, but the other mystification broke the stare-off by eagerly adverting his eyes. “You'll know what to do tomorrow. But I expect the real reason you showed up is…?”

 

“You called me here.” A gruff reform returned back while he crossed his arms in front of each other in an agitated posture.

 

“Let's not kid each other, you'd never come here if you didn't have to, right?” His voice echoed eerily through the room. The boy tried to avoid looking at him, and instead, gazed silently towards the dirty carpet.

 

The other man edged in a slight ambiguous that clearly rung with his next message. “I assume they gave you the basics. You must meet your `acquaintance' at the porthole, and lead him through the Iniquitous Halls for the operation. Understood so far?”

 

“Right.. But let's say another spots me? One that wasn't briefed? You remember the rule of acting on the idea there may always be a traitor in our midst you made, don't you?” He questioned in dire aptitude.

 

“Your quite right, my little fledgling. One of the others could suspect you of treason with you carrying around such a limp body and all. But don't fret, I've cleared the mansion from any other inhabitants.” Happily consulted the different male. His pearly eyes shone so bleary as he eyed Thirteen's sigh of relief. “If anyone, only Nine should be stopping by to drop the load off.”

 

“Yeah.” Sagged the droopy voice of a disgruntled occupier deep in entangled doubts. The de-hooded porter released the binds of uneasiness loose on his void and barren hand, and evenly tapped the front right side of his head, muffled with the thatch of argent whiskers as he lowered his head in dolor conduct.

 

“Something wrong?” Asked the spare animation in a sort of dull interest. Thirteen's face lifted up to meet the man's blank expression with another of his own now, laying his hand to the side.

 

“I guess I really don't get it. Is that Reckard-is he really-?”  A peering eye playfully dusted over the younger boys pout, now brandished with the sense of confusion. “I mean, when you said you finally found him, I-“

 

“Stop. I see your troubles, lad.” Confirmed the coupled eyes and voice that issued from the shadows in smooth empathy. “ I've told you what this Reckard may be. His consciousness has been growing inside unknown entity. If our mission goes correctly, it very well might be your Reckard. Today's the first step in making that observation, and we know quite well we need your help for this as well.” Thirteen adverted his eyes downward in a sense of unsure presence as the surge of uncomfortable emotion that manned the general's response wisped off his tongue.

 

Thirteen, in a pile of confused discomfort, told in the softest way he could manage, “But I overheard you before. In the barge.” His eyes were constantly shaded out from the poorly lit dormitory, as his voice grew larger. “You care about Rhodes more than anything. How could you possibly develop any empathy with me?”

 

An overly distained frown brushed upon the other guised face, and with a prominent clarity, he countered, “I treat all my members equally, and you know that. I am merely taking Rhodes into the same level of priority as Reckard. Your little grudge is only swaying you in a different direction.” The boy's face scrunched up in the anguish that it had been defeated, but then turned his head again. “You shall enter the Iniquitous with Reckard, understood?”

 

“Yeah, but I still don't get it all! How can I do that? Why?!” The other being across grew a tad more startled at this, and withdrew a bit before continuing on with a response.

 

“Thirteen, I don't allow insistent outbreaks. Yu must stop acting like a child. `To conjugate our needs..'”

 

“'..We must always be civileezed.'” Thirteen finished. “Honestly, did you even listen to yourself when you wrote that thing? Civileezed isn't even a word!” His hands were slightly up with a retaliating strike now bared to his opponent's neck. But the other combatant in the war of words still stood strong.

 

“Is that what you came to argue about? My inconsistency? Do you want to save him or not? I can easily assign this project another prospector with far more experience than you.” He dipped out of the smog for a bit, revealing his richly olive tan skin curling around his visible eye and around the coral streamers twiddling along the edges of swarthy fog.

 

“No!” The younger boy shouted in an unanticipated burst of concern, slightly jumping up and out of his chair with an anxiety-ridden expression on his face. “Please. Please, I-I promise I'll be better!” A single moment past of still depression as Thirteen brushed off a bit of the dust the chair had put upon him, still angling down.

 

“Good, that's the correct choice. Let me continue.” The man commanded with his still nonchalant verse. The other life across him nodded with abysmal qualm, and kept his head lower, so out of view. “As I said before, you must bring Reckard through the Halls, then into the Quarry.”

 

“The Quarry's forbidden.” Thirteen mumbled loud enough so the other personage could barely hear, mildly surprised at his earlier statement. “And the Halls-You know I couldn't even get through that myself, let alone with him.”

 

“But of course-I put those corridors there for a reason. No member besides myself could ever get through the halls laced with malice.” Elaborated the shadow, still lifting the cool past behind him. Thirteen shot a perplexed gawk at the other member while slightly tipping head to the sight in a dire need for explanation. A sinister smirk gently unfolded as the older man scouted up in his elongating. “And this, is why you need the sword so much.”

 

“The sword?” Shuddered the boy in an elongated quiver that spoke out in the harsh environment.

 

--

 

The eternal whiteness faded, and the images of the raft and its traveler slowly came into view. The stubborn brutish actually blanketed it's wings over Reckard's body in a tight sense of protection as the light was sharply repelled, and the newly made sunrise had awakened.

 

The monster's sharpest red eyes darted across to where the pillar once stood, but instead found oblivion. Not a trace of marble was kept within the waters net from the once flourishing pilaster.  Even though it had maintained the outer shell of security and stalwart charisma, the robotic habitual was deeply confused on what happened to the beams locality upon the blank page of aquifer nothing.

 

“What are you waiting for?” Chirped in a deadened murmur, very much grazed in static. “I can still see you, you know.” The avian quickly drew aghast without delay, and lifted its other clipped limb in alertness. “I've already scanned the station, and it looks a go.” Repeated the radio head. “All the lights are gone now, so cheer up!”

 

After shaking its head a bit to help clear his precipitance, the beast looked straight ahead in accordance with its master. No longer were there a column, but a beach.. A grassy mound of earth (with a water opening in the front) shaped in a crescent sort of form, this sight being in the middle of the ocean. You could also see that the mound separated into two strips of pale green flatland, making a path of sorts deep into the horizon. The animal across merely cocked its head, and daintily flew over to the grounds shoreline.

 

Meanwhile, another figure was sailing along the skies of the strips coast. It was quite far away from where the other two were, and they seemed to be greatly taking their time. It was a little larger than the other flyer, and kept a much more natural feeling, having been coated in a nice stretch of mahogany feathers. But it kept an odder quirk about with a striking red, and flat spike upon its head. A strange, gray radio head, as like the other, had also accompanied this one. But even more wildly, this one was actually sewn upon a strong tuft of hair to keep it in place, for the jagged steeps and startling bows it made plowing into the air around it had no suspicion it would come off if not secured extra tight.

 

“Number Nine, Saulkia here.” Ruffled out the strong mumblings of an agent in stern. The avian, already expecting this, merely drooped off to the side in a faint swoop of noise and gently landed atop a patch of fluttered grass. The creature let out a small squeak in acceptance and allowed the woman to continue speaking. “Where are you? My coordinates are a little fuzzy.” Quickly, the slickly brown bird lifted it's wing over to it's itself, ad sharply bit off one of it's feathers.

 

Although it looked like a feather on it's host's skin, in actually the moonlight showed the reflecting metal being only painted the color. Within a flash, it whooped the metal inquiry deep into the morning sky; only a shining light sparkled before a small explosion of orange and red filled the sky ablaze. “Ah, much better. Good, you're at the station then. You know your orders; I'm only here for supervisionary and moral support.” And so off the cavalry went, trudging more and more along the trail.

 

Back to the others, the bird had already started darting along the side of the log canals shoreline in a series of fleeting bursts amidst the reddish, yellow sky. Although anyone could see the undetermined and worrisome look brandished upon the enigmas face, the stroking words of that voice that awakened it's inner strength by repeating it's distant loving. The three traveled deeper and deeper into the wandering crevice, and it wasn't long before the scenery took a drastic change.

 

Just up along the path, the river stopped dead on with a small, round plot of land without any other bearings, like it's other spots. The iron bird fluttered back in astonishment, for it was expecting to easily glide along the towhead's guideline, and was not anticipating something so abrupt. To the everyday passenger, the world had stopped there. Only a bare ocean accompanied the stop, but as the bird leered closer to it's dead end, and keenly straightened it's darkly red eyes, there was in actuality a thin strip of land under the blanket of water leading to a now revealed patch of land continuing on with the path in an undisrupted fashion (only hidden once by the now blisteringly cold sunlight).

 

“Something feels wrong. It must be a trap.” Blurted out the voice in dim amusement to the bird.. It was all too obvious in it's eyes. It must be a booby trap for impending intruders such as themselves. The very small plain a person would have to cross by foot seemed stable enough, but by noticing it by an angle, you could tell that if anyone ever tried to cross that iffy implement, they would easily force the plain over (for it was actually a large slab of land-look alike wood), thus forcing the unfortunate victim plunging into the waters of a certain death.

 

An obvious idea was that the two could just fly over it, but that was easily tossed aside by marauders vocal companion. “Of course you could fly, but it seems far too obvious. It will put yourself and Reckard in extreme danger if we take any risks. Let there be an invisible fortress guarding that porthole, you will both get killed for sure in these waters.” He was right. Upon closer inspection, the upper layer of water seemed normal, but the farther you looked in, the more you could see horrible water currents swirling in a massive collection of speeding liquid.

 

“Koon..” The slightly impatient rapture cooed to its follower in a language that only the voice could understand.

 

“Why, that does strike up an idea. Please, Air Cutter.” A darkly smile crept upon the others face, and it quickly rose up to just about six feet above there previous position. Then in one swift action, the bird drew to the side like a dart, and whipped it's winged arm around itself, making a purely white wave of dead air bulletin towards the space above the other plot. It went on for a few feet before it suddenly evaporated into a white mist, revealing something very expected. As one could see beyond the mist, a field of bright red laces of rays stretched as far as one could see from the middle of the plot, and outwards in a large circumference.

 

“So I was right.” Told the voice obnoxiously to him self. The dead particles of air that had hit the laser field had canceled out the protecting particles with only an operation to disguise themselves and the field, so they could easily be knocked away by any other particles. As the retreating mist grew upward, a strangely gaping hole in the ray fabric was revealed. “That'sit's weak point?. Quick, look up there! Memorize it.” The mist soon faded away, and the protecting particles were quickly regenerating themselves, covering the once exposed hole with invisible disguise.. The raptor looked just as startled as the voice was. “I thought there was a hole on Nationals security system that we could peak through, but this-“ The bird gazed at the empty space longingly. “-is much too huge for him to ignore. But I suppose we have little choice…” The being nodded as the ruffled raft merely stood bumping up and down on the waves. For the ones that set this up, in no way could it be accidental. It just seemed too easy. Something must be waiting for them.

 

“Skarf, I beg you to act with caution. If Reckard gets hurt in this accident, you will be held accountable. Keep him onto you-at all costs.” The fledging nodded, and it gently hovered up higher into the air, cradling the raft with the unsuspecting sleeper heavily upon it's back. It should be easy enough to get through it, it thought, but such a big hole just had to be put there deliberately. Quickly it scooped up the raft onto its iron back. Its body shivered by the heeding of his master, but it continued onwards despite.

 

“Kyukyaa!!” Skarf roared out in a brave speeding towards the invisible hole. Skarf hadn't paid too much attention at where it was before, so it gave another, weaker air cut to scatter the protection particles. It shot out as usual, Skarf still trying to keep hold on the raft and the plain of lasers was revealed once again. Skarf instantly jumped to the chance at going in through the now very visible hole when it suddenly got in a few feet's range from it, something strange happened. The bright red force field pillars that blocked every other exit had suddenly rearranged it self, and the gaping hole had covered up, and then placed much farther away then were it once was, and the shiny, metal cavalry was set smashing into the red hot lasers defense.

 

It burnt the starkly sharply and was set spiraling down with the unconscious body laying untouched beside it in mid-air. You could see the stamp like marks made from the conflict, and the bearer's eyes were securely fastened down with pain resulting from such an inquiry. The two seemed ready for an imminent casualty when out of nowhere; a terrifyingly angry voice yelled out the animal's species, “Skarmory!!” And as if he said the magic words, Skarf's eyes opened with a new vengeance of its master's anger, and it quickly swooped down under the seemingly dead bodied Reckard, leaving the raft to be easily chopped up in the oncoming waves. The `Skarmory', now filled with a deep sense of seriousness, dropped Reckard down on its previous earthy soil as it listened intently to its master's next order. “I've had it with him! I knew he had something else in store for us, I knew it! Fine then! I'll make sure that system is ripped apart!   ”

 

In another place, however, things were much more quite. Only the small whiffs of air that the brown glazed beauty made seemed to make any noise. From that bird's own radio, the charming voice of Saulkia instructed, “Up ahead there should be an end to the canal, go up to that spot, and direct your wing up to the `skies' and let me repeat my password.” The beauty followed it's orders and placed itself on the place where the canal ends on a piece of land nearly identical to Skarf's, raised it's wings to the lightened `skies' and let Saulkia repeat her code: “Solange.” In a bizarre take of events, the earth around the scarlet one instantly digitized into dead black, leaving only them on a piece of land as if the world around them was just made of data. But even more strangely, the two didn't seem surprised. Just as quickly as it disappeared, the landscape returned to them in a digitized mass, and they flew away as if nothing ever happened. The small dot that was Skarf could only just be seen on the practically cloned canal.

 

“ Concentrate, Skarmory, concentrate. Lock yourself to the earth, feel it's burning core resonate with yours.” The Skarmory quickly dug its claws into the sterilized earth. “I am asking you to for a slightly complicated beam, but you have practiced before so it's the aftermath we should be worried about.” Skarf sweated a bit at this, but nodded slightly. “As you know, the beam works by taking the raw, physical energy out of your system and then send a vortex with your spiritual energy to create the perfect fusion of power, deadly in most circumstances. And as you know, this means your overall health afterwards will grow a bit-thin.” His words pulled at the Skarmory's hearts strings, but it continued listening to it's dedicated owner as it poised into a very slanted stance. “Let me not bore you anymore with all the technical alterations. It is a very simple and reckless attack at heart-nothing I would want for you to bare, as the side effects are quite strenuous.” The man's voice spoke with aplomb. Skarf etched back it's head a for a moment, getting ready.. “ But it's required. Hyper Beam.”

 

Skarf jumped backwards a small bit and raised it's feathered arms in the air above as it called forth a great bog of his strength to him, gathering upon all his inner being that lay dormant within for a moment, and then mixing the two entities and releasing it in a fantastic beam of fiery orange and red power. It easily crashed through the laser fabric, obliterating the protector particles, then making an enormous opening in the field. It lowered its limbs in a saggy exhaustion as it constantly huffed and puffed air into its circulatory system. “Very good Skarf, I was expecting…less. You remembered not to use all your raw strength in that attack, but your inner faith cannot say the same. The small puddle of strength is all you'll be able to use to keep yourself from becoming unconscious, so remember not to leave Reckard behind.” The bird just started up a weak flying technique with Reckard straddled upon it, and then collapsed onto the other patch of land through the smoldering hole it had created.. “Or maybe you should rest for a bit before going on.” The radio declared, and so it did. But down near the farther end of the canal, the scarlet one was nicely gliding among the winds in a lazy stroke of idleness.

 

“Not too much longer now. You should see a pill-“ But Nine broke eerily off, as if just realizing something. “Get to the left, now!!” she roared. The scarlet one, not noticing anything strange, did get a bit to the left, but in it's own lazy sort of fashion that quite angered the agent. “Honestly, you're supposed to be fleeing.” She muttered under her breath in which the machine gave no response. “Brace yourself.” As it is, the brown one smelt something burning up ahead. Suddenly realizing what it was, it wrapped its arms around itself mischievously, suddenly making fierce, red blurbs of energy circle around it in deep concentration. Then, in a total destructive path making wave after wave of gigantic overflows as it flew, the same spirit burning beam engulfed the small, almond being that seemed to have stabled itself within it with the help of some reassuring blobs.

 

After the beam had passed through it miraculously alive, the bird had the need to gently roost downwards, and so it drooped it's battered body to a safer habitat then whatever aerial proportions had treated him to now. “It's good you endured on my command.” Saulkia granted with the tiniest bit of gratitude. “But your taking this mission far too usuriously. If you hadn't endured, I would've expected we would need medical attention for you being struck so suddenly, and out here in the digital station, medical corps are hard to find.” The bird had stained an uncomfortable look on its face and grudgingly decided to lift up from its position on the ground floor to up on it's own two legs. “I wouldn't normally allow this, but there's a strong healing potion on the back helm of my radio pack. I give you permission to treat yourself.” So the anguished one raised it's left wing forward and gently pecked at the back bolt containing the radio device. And inside was indeed a light pink bottle shaped like a dewdrop and with the smelling of a sweet essence.

 

The bird lunged the concoction in the air, masterfully caught it within its beak and scarfed down lulling juices inside. Very quickly, the great scarlet felt an immediate onrush of energy surge throughout its body as if the potion had revived its inner strength. Whatever the case, it felt much better. “Done already? Good. Go full speed ahead, and no pit stops. ” And so the delighted carrier agreed to its master's command, speeding off into the bleary skies. It was very eager to redeem itself and extract its revenge quite thistly in front of its trainer if he could dispatch those marauders of the red beam. But now, the other avian was flying by the silky waters of the canal, but instead very droopy and off of it's usual sheen.

 

“The mansion is nothing but a few more paces ahead. I've opened up a short cut for, just for this occasion.” Skarf decided to act like he didn't hear the voice, and just softly flew itself with a little guidance of the freshest morning winds. It's face looked drowsy and undignified for the most part (as it had a very good right to be so), but that suddenly changed into a very skeptical and slightly unnerved look jumped upon it. A small, brown dot was coming straight for them, and it seemed to get bigger and bigger every few seconds. “Do you see it too?” Asked the man with a delicious tone. “It seems there was another person within this station. No doubt they all ready tasted a bit of our Hyper Beam, eh?” The `Skarmory' agreed with a slight nod, and decided to land itself upon another strip of land, setting Reckard down nicely. “I didn't prepare for any intrusions like this Skarf. But this shouldn't worry you at all, no. I will get what I desire in the end.” The bird just kept it's eyes wide open, and awaited the now bullet speeding pursuer coming right along up there track.

 

“Remember, “ Told Saulkia as the earth-glazed flyer also began to see the other in an ongoing panic. “If these hackers are powerful enough to initiate a Hyper Beam, they probably won't go peacefully. Be on your guard, and allow me to act first.” They were now but only a few yards away, and both were staring each other down intently, knowing all too well the consequence of their actions.

 

--

 

A damp silence filled the room. “Yes, his sword. A truly marvelous weapon indeed..” Thirteen tried to contain his anxiousness, but it clearly showed with his bit lip expression. Whatever he could've made, it only made him shiver. There confrontations with what he thought the other man was talking about still managed to creep him out. Under his desk, a navy blue box wrapped in a dull beige towel lay waiting, and the man quickly lifted it up and then down onto his desk to show the boy. “Hm, don't be nervous.” Chuckled the older one as he slowly unwrapped the packaging. With the man's gilded hand, he took the tan-bandaged hilt with the black, diamond shaped end with great carefulness, very excited as he placed the rest of the blade upon his area. As the eyes traveled up its pole shaped handle, you saw incredibly polished, dark silver triangle with its flat end connecting to the hilt, an even more surprising sentence within that. Right in the middle of the triangle being was an eerie, black keyhole that looked like was made of metal from a strange metal that seemed to have a disturbing sense of pure darkness attached to it as well.

 

What was next was a piercing hunk of blade that was made with the most unlikeliest of articles; a mesh of blue and purple crystal. It was quite a long blade, about three feet, and starting out from the pointed end of the triangle (which was covered on the other side with a mirror image). It had an arch within the middle of its long passage of blade, and on each side of this was a dark purple and outlined white exe that matched perfectly with the lightness of the exterior. Underneath each exe was a large, dark blue and outlined black cross that ended with a mesmerizing, vanilla spiral at the end. Finally, above each exe were two horizontal parallel lines that were simply that until a faintly etched circle could be seen within each of the light red markings, rich with the grandest of all honey comb yellows. A double-edged sword, fit for a warrior. The enigma softly gripped the handle of the sword and lifted it with the point up in front of him to admire it for a moment. An infant smile grew upon him, and he proceeded to take the sword and face the point directly towards Thirteen's face.

 

He let go of his lip in a second, and quickly raised his arms a bit in front of him as his bewildered eyes once again met the others. “What-What are you going to do with that?” Asked the boy with a tremble in his voice. Just looking at that sword-he could remember. Anyone could feel the sinister aura that had alluded around it. The more Thirteen looked at it, the more it seemed a yellowish red cloud seemed to form around him.

 

“When I had retrieved this back from-you know, it chose me as it's next bearer.” He started, tapping his open fingers atop the brick board. “I shall now pass that duty to you. It contains the very element you fear, yet need. Memory. Keep it close.” And with those words, the sword disappeared behind a storm of magically diamond purple clouds and sparks, in which it then reappeared within Thirteen's hands. With Thirteen's arms and already in an exe for protection, he shut his eyes tight, expecting a very painful or unusual circumstance, but instead felt the smooth handle of the sword atop his palms. He slowly flickered his eyes opened, and then went blank with a strange feeling as he started straightly into the never-ending color of the blade in itself. He half lowered his eyes lids and raised the sword side ways up to him.

 

He saw Rhodes , laughing. Standing on a dark bridge, laughing as he and Reckard float away into pitch black. He saw a dark mountain pulsing with something that made him ache inside. But then he saw himself happily gazing into the clouds with him on an island laden with a sandy beach, a black cave, and a single palm tree.

 

He was terrified, though his empty and unfeeling face didn't show it. But it wasn't a kind of horror you could scream at it. It was a kind of horror he couldn't express, something only his mind could take as his glazed eyes kept on watching the watery purple. It was rid of the same sense he had felt earlier. It had been replaced with a feeling of uncertainty, so delicate, so fragile. He flipped over the weapon, expecting to see the same image, and he did-minus the fact that keyhole now had a sterling white metal instead of black, and was also filled with the same sense of entity.

 

“If a sword is what I needed, then I'll gladly take another. But not his, never his!” And he threw the sword to the ground in an angry disruption of the peacefulness. Whatever delicate feelings had popped up within this sword meant nothing now; he just felt that devilish torment that, that sword had instilled upon him. A painful feeling of jealousy, helplessness and overall, the emotions of an undying will felt written inside that blade.

 

“Oh, my delicious little Thirteen. This is not any ordinary sword.” With the same dusting of purple, the sword had suddenly reappeared once more in Thirteen's lap lain hands. A worrisome look entered Thirteen once more as looked down at the sword, and then up to the man again. “Once attached to the user, it will never release its grip until a rare occurrence tears them apart. It has magical properties as well as physical, you know. Rhodes made it with such a dignified being, it completely outwitted my own creations by far.”

 

“You know I won't.” The other said, tightly gripping the sword for some reason.

 

“Oh, you can't, can you? Well I guess I'll just have to call up Ten, or maybe Twenty-One to handle-“

 

“I won't let you give this to anyone else. I'm meant to do this, you know it!”

 

“Why look at how many times that's been said! My halls have grown so thick with dangerous elements it's unable to control any more. That sword is the only way to your precious Reckard. You'll take it, or else lie in yet another year of misery. Right?”

 

 He stared once more into the piercing purple light, and then closed his eyes accordingly. `The sword is the embodiment of Memory. What does it mean if I can't handle a bit of painful sufferings, does he think I'm too weak? Or-Or-' He thought to himself liltingly. `Maybe I'll see those again either way. But that sword is so horrible; every glance at it makes me sick. But I-But he-said I should have it. Should I? ' He opened his eyes once more, and looked at the general before him. ` Should I. 'a fainted picture of a black silhouette in the form of a person was walking along in his memory. `The sword of memory…' He looked down back at his new sword that gave a smiling reflection back at him, quite contrary to his frown. He then looked back up and said, “Right. You don't need to tell me what to do in the Halls, I know.”

 

“Ah, quicker than I expected. That sword is of a very magical property, Thirteen, I hope you realize that. You must never let it consume you, for I can still feel that weakness ripe within your soul. ” He lifted out his finger, and pointed towards Thirteen's chest. “And deep within your heart, I can tell you're vulnerable to Rhodes as well. Just the mention of him.”

 

Thirteen scornfully closed his eyes and crossed his arms ignorantly, saying, “Well I suppose you'd know all about weakness, right? Can I leave already, your stench is spreading on me.”

 

“Almost, Thirteen. First, a minor instruction. Place Reckard in the middle symbol between the pillars, then divide his entity.”

 

Thirteen's eyes blinked and he questioned nervously, “You never told me about-”

 

The man's eyes just brightened up exuberance and he told the worried boy, “Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something.” Just then, Thirteen rolled his eyes and jumped out of his seat, and went going for the door with the sword tied under his cloak. But he was stopped by the words of the older man. “Wait, Thirteen. You know that to make this mission successful and more importantly, binding, I must know your name.”

 

Zexion stopped, and turned around with a drowsy look on his face. He replied, “It's funny National, you always tell everyone to keep their name secret when you give out your name for free.”

 

National merely smirked at the boy and said, “Of course. That's because all agents who come here will have to come in conjunction with me eventually.”

 

--

 

“Land on the far end of the canal strip across from that one.” The scarlet bird obeyed, and landed on the strip of land directly across from where Skarf was. They both turned to meet each other's eyes. Then, without warning, the brownish one quickly let out its left wing where the radio head was strewn on, and allowed his master to speak. “That must be quite a powerful creature to make such a beam.” Skarf mirrored the other's action and let his master speak as well.

 

“Why, of course. My Skarf here is the best of it's kind.” The voice seemed to drip with an eerie enthusiasm that shone with the imminent sense of sarcasm that playfully wisped off his tongue. “Nothing that the department doesn't deserve.” Skarf slowly lowered its beak, and shifted its misty eyes in a tired motion that seemed to signal the others approach.

 

In a feeling of bewilderment, the scarlet one tilted its head back in a bit of surprise at what the other's glare. It slowly hovered its beak in a not so apparent, but silently frantic fashion over to it's left and lightly carried it's wing over for Saulkia's support. “I feel you're afraid. Don't be, just look at his Skarmory. It's arm sagging with oppression, I can already sense this one will barely have a will to fight. Now listen close.”

 

Indeed, that Skarmory did now have its left wing sagging over to the left, its half closed eyelids just managing to be kept up. The small tufts of wind that gently graced the pond shifted the pieces lift and right; slowly captivating its shafting spikes of metal that lay dormant upon its wing. “Kujakoon.” Spoke the seeping words of the wrecked flyer, all in such a yearning tone to its master.

 

“Agreed. Don't worry about it; the shortcut is just beyond that horizon there. Merely let me speak and it will instantly transport you into the entrance of their headquarters.” The radio head whispered on to its reluctant friend in his usual variety of `friendliness'. “Even if those two over there are fully healed, I can tell they've been poorly trained. Besides..” The scarlet across from them had now reached around itself and to its previous position, but now with an earnest face of no giving in. “I have faith in you.”

 

Skarmory's eyes suddenly opened up completely as there bursting, crimson euphoria enlarged into a basic circle of unbelief at what his master had just said. It was rare that such a master ever said in under any circumstance he had faith in his animal. Skarmory believed perhaps it was just for the moment. Another side, however, believed it was ever lasting, perhaps his master-cared. Whatever the case, Saulkia's next words broke the entrancing magic between two with an orderly, “Give it up.” The Skarmory retracted from looking entranced within itself with it's shocked irises and instead directed them towards his opponent. “Don't try and run. Your Skarmory is in no condition to be fighting, nor sprinting. You are is a rouge enemy who has taken our certain objective from us, and has illegally infiltrated the portal into this boy's subconscious. I'll tell you the consequences straight. We can peacefully retain your Skarmory, track you down with your own communication device, bring you to our central base, then release you under the careful eye of national himself and several other agents of his choice.”

 

The Skarmory's face was kept solid, and the device remained quiet. “I am quite surprised that you managed to do all that you did. Whatever your plans were with him, I'll be here to stop it right now. But I'm sure this will keep you at ease.” The darkish brown one gently lifted off of the ground, and in a dull glide, lightly swirled over to the inhabitance of Skarf's being. “You will be the first major technicality for the Department in a very long time.” Just as the scarlet one had landed just before the silver one, Skarf darted backwards to avoid any contact with that other creature coming to take him in.

 

“Your grimey little Fearow won't lay a finger on us!” Announced the radio head with a distinct taste of anger. The `Fearow' stopped where he was, and released the bind of rivalry with the other animal to look at him with a stonily expression.

 

“Well, I do commend your bravery.” The Fearow lifted wings up to it's torso, slanted it self a bit, and awaited the move of the others. “I do hope you can command your Skarmory well enough to give us a fair jog, though.”

 

The Skarmory tightened it's own body with a slant of it's own, lowering it's wings so that the tips just barely touched the earthy floor. “My Skarf doesn't need any handling.” The man said angrily. The blitzing sun bounced off Skarmory's now glossy wings in all directions, the orangey glow lightening up every plate of multileveled steel. “Skarmory, I'll return to you in ten minutes. I'll expect this skirmish to be over by then. Logging out.” A high-pitched beep followed and it was ensured that he had left the radio head completely.

 

No one moved. They had just begun to exchange solitary glances, each one meticulously chosen with a message to be silently heard by the other. Saulkia, alone and with only animal's to talk to, decided to express to Skarmory, “You can ignore him, you know.” Skarmory tightened its gaze upon the two. Something was bound to erupt; it was only a matter of time. The only dim suspicion of activity was the small rattling of Skarmory's wing in the wind. “Leave him for the time being?” Skarf merely let its wing rattle even more, it seemingly glowing in the sunlight. The Fearow eyed the wing suspiciously, and slowly tapped his foot down upon the ground to signal some sort of alert. Saulkia gave no response, and the wing started to get brighter and brighter. “Maybe..” The wing was soon drawing forth a multitude of white barbs that seemed to gather within Skarf's now white as snow limb. The Fearow's eyes grew larger, worryingly awaiting some kind of order from his prospector. “You..” Then, instantly, the whiteness vanished, and was replaced with his wing being a blindingly smooth, silver plated arm heavy with a physical power.

 

 He roughly charged with an incredible force, his iron wing lagging at his side, raising his wing in mid run, and then crashing down the silver piece with all it's iron strength into the air right before the Fearow's flesh. “Steel Wing!” The Fearow eagerly obeyed it's master's order, and lit up it's own left wing in a rushed version of Skarmory's transformation. Still a gleaming white and not completely finished, his wing parried Skarmory's but was sent tumbling backwards almost into the canals most chilling waters. “So, you do have enough energy to summon some sort of power to your aid.” The machine added calmly. The weighty silver wing proved to be too much for Skarmory to retain, and it returned to the multileveled surface in a quick flash of light.

 

A distressed Skarmory looked on as the other's Fearow tried to shake about as quickly as it could to whip off any water it had taken. A plan had to be made; an advantage of this pause had to be made. But he realized that the woman talking, like his own master, had a map to track his movements. Something that could tell her if it moved anywhere near Reckard. But then, a shot of miraculous inspiration struck him. Saulkia's machine was, after all, just a machine. 

 

With careful measure, Skarmory inched its way backwards to where Reckard's body lay. Every step hurt a little more than the last, but he ignored it. The auburn beauty quickly raced to meet the candescent one again, but bewilderingly saw Skarmory inch bit by bit backwards towards Reckard. He awaited the orders of his obviously well thought master. She would know what to do in this situation for sure; so waiting for her crucial advice would be the obvious course of action. She would check her machine, and give it an excellent tactic just as soon as she realized. But for several seconds, his faith within his trainer seemed to be worthless, for the device remained strangely untalkative. “Cer! Ceruca!” Whimpered the worried beast as the other monster took more and more steps backward. Could there be any hesitation? A creature that powerful?

 

It's dreary red eyes matched drowsily with the Skarmory's devious smile. He remembered something about his master stealing a radio from the Department of Annoh. Every member had one, and the system was all the same. It tracked the movements of the thing it was attached to and anything else within a three-mile radius. But it's master found a flaw within it. It could only detect steps, or strokes of movement at a time. By inching along minutely, she could only see him standing like stone, apparently thinking.  She seemed too thick to order an attack at the time anyway, for she had thought this was an advantage for her superior mind to kick in. And of course, the Fearow would never take a step unless out of its master guidance.

 

It wasn't long before Saulkia had noticed the Fearow's shaking disposition and movement, calling out with, “Avoid the eyes. Stand your ground.” It was there, beside Reckard. There was nothing the Fearow could do, but wait. It's master gave it a direct order to stay still-and he wasn't about to misplace his loyalties just yet. “Fearow, please-What!?”

 

According to Saulkia's vision, Skarmory had just jumped three feet away from Fearow to a blitzing aircraft gliding at a steady speed with her most precious objective in tow. “Go! Um, Air cut, Drill Peck, now!” Saulkia fumbled, quite disturbed on what she saw. A technical mistake? But what could she rely on if her map was completely useless? The weakest recruit she had ever laid eyes on? The Fearow wasted no time and he dashed up into the skies at his best speed to try to catch up with the jaded silver ahead. No, perhaps Fearow could be more than a disappointment. What kind of trainer would she be f she gave up so easily upon her pokemon? “Get ahead, now!!” Even though Skarmory was taking jagged swerves every now and again, a renewed sense of self worth added to his complementary belt of feelings that kept his drive at maximum percent.

 

 

The Fearow glided along nervously, catching up on the silver beauty. It went blank for a moment in fright, and then desperately remembered its order, swinging its arm around in a sharp quip to summon another of those foamy white streaks to his aid. The faded being of a shakily prepared Air Cutter skimmed along the surface of his wing, barely making a small tingle travel up the other's wing. He pushed backwards, and towards the air with Reckard barely attached, and it's the tips of each wing lit up in a shamrock light. Bizarre streaks of silvery mirror shot out of both peaks, a flurry of reflective barbs suddenly surrounding Skarmory and simultaneously connecting around him to create a folded, see through wall of protection. Fearow noticed the inquiry, and made a quizzical look, but noticed he slowed down because of the mysterious incantation and eagerly managed to speed up alongside him. Suddenly, the shield vanished into a cloud of gray smoke, and Skarmory rammed its hardened sheath to chest of the Fearow. A fantastic grin overcame it as it happily dived into it's opponent's bruised skin. He couldn't help but think how that Fearow was bound to its trainer's whim.

 

His own trainer knew of this `Saulkia's' impudence at fighting towards him. This was in no way, no matter how hard Saulkia would try to make it, a brawl. More a trace to the finish line, you could say. What point would there be in it's master being there if he was not supposed to command, not to fight, as Saulkia was obviously trying to do. If he became overcome and decided to do ordering, there tactics would easily be shouted out to their enemy, and even if both could read the other's movements, which one was weaker? No, he would advance o the shortcut like it's master said, memorizing and easily countering his opposite's maneuvers. Not like it would make much of a different if she was gone. The Fearow, weak and undetermined, constantly clings to Saulkia's order so much, it can't stand to do anything without her consent. By distracting the master, you distract the obedient pigeon that is far too loyal for it's own good. It's inevitable those two remained linked; and so it would ultimately spell their demise.

 

The dive thistly crashed the auburn flyer down to nearby land strip, and Skarmory couldn't help but look back at the delicious cloud of earthy smoke that singled its defeat. It never imagined it could be so powerful, even as so weak. But then he realized he was incredibly tired, and the adrenaline poured out of him, causing him to almost tumble among the dirt if not for a precious swerve to the left at the last moment. The flaps of his wings beat slower, and every one hurt more and more. Maybe, it thought, it could rest now that he defeated his rival. Perhaps a small nap wouldn't be too much for this beaten warrior to have? And so, it gently roosted upon a fair bit of soil and slowly unloaded the unconscious Reckard from the probably uncomfortable metal landing that was Skarmory's back. But as he lay down with his wings eagle spread, a straining feeling came to him before entering sleep. There was no noise, no sound. Nothing at all, everything was quiet. What's there to worry about, he thought to itself, and just before he was going to drift off into the most comfortable sleep he had in a long while, several sharp jolts of pain sliced at his back.

 

It was thrown backwards, into the water and sinking in a surprisingly fast speed. It looked around dizzily. Water ruffled his metal feathers in all directions, and lightly smoothened the now soft surface of the Skarmory's skin. Everything was spinning, he felt his head ache in ways it couldn't have imagined, and they're seemed no way to move at all. As he sank lower, the darker the depths became. It's lungs started to get shorter in breath. Soon he wouldn't have air to breath. It imagined what his master would say now, his only friend. How obviously stupid? Or maybe, what a noble genius. He didn't care all that much now, because then, a shimmering light grazed all over his surfaces, and the intercom light up with a dull beep again, when that same voice mumbled through the water; “White Castle”

 

Above the plain of blue, a certain Fearow was happily dancing across from Reckard's forgotten body among a rather large dent in earthy strip. One could see, upon inspection of Fearow's left wing, that a distinct, bald and square shaped patch of skin was where the radio had once been. Apparently, Skarmory's charge had been so powerful it managed to knock the device clean off when the bird made contact with the solid ground. It lay next to Fearow's jittering feet, the back flack open and several bolts unscrewed. Saulkia's voice now resembled the other's, drowned in imperial static; “Fearow! Fearow, are you there! My map shattered, I think the Skarmory may have overpowered you.  Can you here me?”

 

Fearow stopped it's gleeful dancing for a moment, a loomed over the device with a mean stare. It let out a low, “Cuuur,” and waited for the machine to give its heated response.

 

“Oh, thank goodness your still up, I thought-never mind! I don't think I can be with you, so this is what'll do!” Fearow rolled its eyes and allowed the machine to continue. “I'll go ahead and meet you at the mansion with Reckard. But I'll give you this set of instructions, so listen carefully! First-“ But it was cut off by the loud crunch of Fearow's spiky clawed foot meeting the speaker of Saulkia's technology. “Criiuu.” It purred to itself as it looked ahead at the orangey blue sky of daybreak. He waited for that moment too long. Saulkia was nothing more than a dictator to him. What did she care if it was next to dying in pain, as long as he was alive, it was all good. It had overheard her the night before; she was talking to herself late, clearly at dismay. She nervously reviewed her plans for the mission, mentioning the Kastryme, Illicle, Learning, Level, a machine that sent bursts of electricity through it if there was any thought to disobey her orders. She talked about using it only if she needed, and it seemed that after the Hyper Beam performance, she wasn't too worrisome about using it. That's why he couldn't do anything to get Skarmory. He had to change his thoughts, and obey her orders, for she believed that a simple Fearow could not be trusted.           & nbsp;

 

But that was far beyond him, he thought, and kicked off the ground in his usual, lowly muse to the other strip of land (where Reckard lay). Just as he stopped, he looked over the edge and into the gurgling water. It was extremely dark and nothing but a few bubbles came up to the surface. So it gave another hearty, “Cerru!” and scooped up Reckard's body with ease, soon zooming off towards the bright orange horizon ahead.

 

--

 

Zexion was still glaring angrily at National after those words, but after scuffing his feet against the rugged carpet, he spoke up, “Zexion, Number Thirteen.” National gently lifted out of his seat and revealed his true form; he was draped in a sort of reddish cloak with a square opening in the center of the chest, inside was a blue symbol painted upon a black dressing. His hands were curled in bandages of silver, green, and blue. Rolls of black, gold and cranberry were wrapped around his chest and shoulders (still exposing the symbol, of course), and leading up to his neck in now thick banners of white, crimson and rich orange. His face, however, was still shrouded in mist.

 

“Zexion, eh? What a strange name a mother would give. I wouldn't expect your cousins, Xenophillus and Veldramada to agree with you?” The man chuckled slightly at his own joke, but Zexion didn't look amused. His courage gave another scowl over to National's side, but he decided to go on. “Are you sure that's what you meant to tell me?”

 

Zexion rolled his eyes and responded, “Fine. My real name's-“ He shuddered for a bit, but then continued. ”Ienzo.” National looked at him with a grinning exposure. Zexion gripped his fists together and grunted rather loudly “But don't you ever think about calling me that. I'm Zexion, correct?”

 

National was still smirking behind the darkness. He gently lifted his bandages hand, and bit off the end of one the ivy rolls, gently chewing it with his hand dangling carelessly in front. He took a step forward and revealed that his entire face was rolled over with very deep red gauze, only his tan mouth and eyes being shown. “On behalf of the Department of Annoh,” he began playfully. “You are obligated to see Number Nine, Saulkia, and Number Twelve, Janine, at Pivot Cross, near the Fresh Burrow.”

 

Zexion stood still in emotional stone and said with blurry, amber eyes, “In Johto?”

 

National merely nodded.

--

 

As the Fearow rode in its ever so cheerful condition, it felt a slight lurch in its stomach as an oncoming wave of wind blanketed the sea before them. Once or twice, these winds accidentally pushed Reckard off, but he always managed to catch him before he hit the water. He seems like he has a pretty good rip now, though. No, something else was bothering him. Perhaps, he still felt afraid of the silver menace. But no, not at al, he can't be. He saw the other bird sink like a brick into the murky waters below; it was made to kill things like that. Even if he could do a hyper beam, make a steel win, create a false shield and still manage to keep up with the wind; even he couldn't get out of drowning. It was made of steel, even! And so nothing more bothered him as it gently flew towards another end to the river.

 

Fearow quickly took notice of it. It was another gateway to the mansion, the final one, it expected. It was the Department's signature Cycle system. It divided its pathway in sections needing passwords with many security measures along the way. Soon enough, it would be gloating victoriously to Saulkia, her realizing she should just stayed out of the way and recommending it for pokemon of the year. These happy thoughts swirled untouched through its head when it saw that it just arrived at the plot, and it swiftly lay Reckard down. But now, it thought, when it digitized to the next station, `Skarmory' would be left behind and whatever left of it would be scrubbed clean.

 

And so it raised its wing into the air, expecting the password. But of curse, its radio was gone, and so it tried it's best to imitate his `master's' language. “Cerr-Ceruange.” It was none too good of an impression, but the machine responsible for digitizing recognized its voice and allowed a flurry of black to engulf everything around the little plot.

 

The Fearow then expected to be met with a nice onrush of wind to cool its hot feathers, when it saw something quite different. For a few seconds, it stared endlessly into a massive vat of black. A routine digitization shouldn't have taken more then a moment or two. An error, perhaps? But Nine said that everything was scanned down to the smallest bit of data for this `important mission'. A person must have done it. But would that mean-? The Fearow never finished that thought, for then a silver streak of static came whizzing by then like a complication on a television screen. The brown one frantically ran over to protect Reckard, but then another zoomed clean between them. It looked around desperately but just found more and more streaks buzzing through the false sky. Then a pure white rip burst through the storm of platinum and in front of the gray static behind it, Skarf was they're, jumping up and nose diving for Fearow.

 

Just then, Fearow had yet another revelation. Skarmory, even as weak as it was, was still a block of metal, and a few Air Cuts weren't going to send it flying anywhere. So that meant it must've dived into the water on purpose! It all made sense-he crashed Fearow to the ground so the radio would come off, making him shoot Air Cut's recklessly at Skarf and in it's wave of happiness, never would it realize that what he thought he did was impossible. It would then sink to a secret portal the silver one's master must've made, and seeing it was more then ten minutes past, it's master would activate it so when Fearow was a considerable way ahead of them, the two digitizing paths would soon intersect, allowing Skarmory to come out of his portal with a nice rest and a way to strand his opponent in a stuck portal by stealing from him, only able to be saved by the department hours later.

 

But sadly, only the last part mattered now. As he narrowly dodged the incoming blow, it still didn't seem to make a difference that Saulkia was right all along. Skarmory quickly rebuilt its stature and wasted no time darting towards Reckard's body while Fearow was sheepishly expecting a fight. Seemingly prepared for this hesitation, it shot a slab of metal into the other's direction, making Fearow leap to the side, seething in regret. Its eyes wandered forgotten along the battlefield. He saw Skarmory shooting a fierce grin towards him as it looked towards the rather large rip in which the he tore. It was slowly binding its wound with ever-wily streams of black. Suddenly, he heard the scuffing of a body against steel, and before he knew it, Skarmory flying at mach speed towards the tare.     

 

Then, without really knowing it, it jumped into the air and desperately swerved left and right in an effort to catch up. A strange breeze cooled its feathers as a bright, cerulean glow came through the multitude of static.. It saw the first cloud of the day, a snow puff of cottony bliss egging it on to come and visit it. Through its brisk vision of winds, it just managed to see a shadowy outline of a rugged avian and a drooping length slyly swooping through the gate, now almost engulfing the dying blue. He got farther and farther up to it until the gap was nothing more then a small hole swirling in ash. Doubt rushed in and filled every corner as he came nearer and nearer, and the hole got smaller and smaller. But then, he felt a vicious burst of wind push him forward. A keen squeeze and Fearow just got out in time to see the piercing blue sky replenish his every element.

 

Higher and higher it went, deep past the clouds and closer to the sun then it had ever gone before. The sharp breeze was like a shower of icy charisma pulsing through his veins. Then it stopped, and through the massive cloud cover he saw Skarmory flying steadily towards a magnificent red mansion with a door of glittering bronze. As it looked closer, the Skarmory's eyes seemed to be drenched in weary; it's wings shakily standing, surely in a state that even with a quick rest could paralyze most with ease. As it neared closer, Fearow's doubts vanished and a new plan arose quickly within its head. It didn't matter anymore how risky it was or how stupid he had been up to this point: he was ordered by the Department to capture Reckard at all costs, and that was what it would do.

 

It bulleted towards the mansion with all the strength it could muster. Knowing his opposite, Skarmory would probably be there by then. It concentrated deep inside itself, swirling its energies, mixing the beings of his entities by gathering a great pool of virtue to its side. It's beak turned into a dull gray light that suddenly transformed into a sinister spike of sword-like steel that peaked on it's end with a devilishly sharp point. Before long, it had plowed through the fortress of clouds and into the front back just before Reckard's head. Skarf never saw it coming, the clouds like a cloak of sheer invisibility. It let out a deep howl of pain as it shot forward and left Reckard falling almost into the water before Fearow expertly caught it by the wing and shuffled it onto it's back. It looked back at Skarmory, scowling and making horrible turns this way and that, absolutely devastated by the attack. The scarlet one gave a childish smirk towards its direction, and its beak returned to its normal length.

 

Then, it raised it's head to the sky and it's eyes shone with a brilliant gold unlike it's normal blue, and it once again, concentrated. He never expected to do it, but it was now that it would happen. His heart burned ablaze like brimstone, his soul stirring within a cauldron of being. It must match Skarmory's ability. As brilliant an endurance and tough hide it bared, it would make sure those defenses would never be used again. It could no longer fight. It was gone. Then suddenly, with Reckard hanging tightly on, it flew up an under in a circle, issuing from it's mouth and eyes, a hot, white Hyper Beam. It's pearly aura blurred and collapsed over Fearow in Skarf's stress ridden eyes, and before he knew it, it piled drived the pathetic Skarf deep into the water with it's supernatural power, and soon all was quite again. A few moments after it's eyes to their normal state and it's flapping wings became less rapid; it almost wanted to collapse into the water with his enemy. But that was the difference, it thought as it flew drearily towards the door. Almost.

 

As skilled a tactician Skarmory was, he still beat him in the game it wanted to play. It may have been a race, but it came in with lackluster ability, mostly scrounging the floor of techniques with its pathetic bit of power. To use everything to its advantage was it's plan, but that couldn't ignore that he was better; that his power plowed through the weak, mental blockade it had set up. It was all just to slow him down, of course, and so it did, but he caught up, and won proudly. A small shiver ran through his spine as he thought this. It was still very hard.. Could it beat a Skarf at full strength? Its mind grew blank, and then concluded that he scant worry about it, for there was no chance of that power resurfacing.

 

It eventually stopped at the door, sliced at its core with a well-aimed feather, and it swung open, revealing that same mansion coated in melancholy color. Another person, hidden by the shadows was also there, and as Fearow turned around to allow them to take the package, it snatched it over with it's bright and silky orange cuffs, placing him in a position over her back. “Number Nine discharges you.” She said in a lowly voice. “Await at the Departing Rod atop the mansion and keep a look out for anything else.” The bird nodded, and flew out into the clouds without a complaint. A scarred door lay before her, and she slowly opened and closed it, soon setting off into a run down the halls of red. Suddenly, she stopped at a black glass window at an indent in the hall. She gently lay Reckard down and made a breakneck dart for National's study.

 

 

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Finally, on what seemed many hours later, the ruined body of Skarmory floated atop the water in clear distress.. It's eyes were fastened tightly with the lingering pain of the Fearow' unexpected Hyper Beam. Around the time it saw the Fearow rise out of the rip, it knew it probably wouldn't make it. Revelation was a powerful thing, it thought, and no doubt even a fool like Fearow could use its power against him. So it took the small pocket of energy it had gathered from it's rest and use it to cushion the impact of it's defeat, giving it one more shred of survival. It's radio lay almost completely destroyed on top of it's arm, much like Saulkia's. A difference was that a last red dot flickered across it's metal, and an awfully broken voice sputtered out random bits of a language. “No…Sorry…Knew…Have done…no more…request…Vaporeon…summon.” Then it ended with another shrill sound, and Skarmory got to move an enormous boulder in it's eyes.

 

It flickered its arm upwards and a dark blue bullet of the same color powder rose into the air making a dazzling firework in the sky. Across another plain, however, sharp, yellow eyes saw this display with great recognition.