This is the story of four corrupted Pokemon, their age old plot to murder Arceus, the war that reduced the world to rubble, and the one human that tried to stop them.
Needless to say, I won't be taking requests on anything. If I find anything like that, I'll just delay the next chapter. However, feedback will still be accepted and encouraged. And do try to post in this to keep the thread alive if you want more, as I do not have much free time.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One: Before the War
Chapter Two: Boredom
Chapter Three: Home of the Legends
Chapter Four: Rayquaza
Chapter Five: Rebellion
This is just a prologue, a foretaste of the things to come.
Death had ravaged the land. In a small, abandoned hovel at the edge of a barren desert, an old man and his grandson struggled to survive. “The survivors of the Great War are not kind to anyone,” the old man said. “Especially to us, despite the good we’ve done for them. They have forgotten, and they drive it out on us. It is shameful.” The boy was always puzzled and intrigued by these words, but when he tried to inquire further, his grandpa always evaded the questions.
The boy had no name. Well, he did, and his grandpa too, but Grandpa never told him. “All in due time,” Grandpa had said. The boy never got farther than that.
Months passed by. One day was like any other. The boy and his grandpa never had enough food or money to make any special occasions actually special, so it was surprising when his grandpa made his tenth birthday such a big deal. “It is time you knew,” the old man said, suddenly looking very melancholy. That’s strange. He’s never sad. Of all the years he’s taken care of me, Grandpa’s always had a smile on his face. What’s going on?
“Come on, grandson. We need to talk. Come to my room.” The little boy immediately felt queasy. He never went into grandpa’s room except for very important things, usually because he was caught eating the candy that grandpa occasionally got. But what had he done this time? He leafed through his memories as he tried to remember what he had done wrong. Was it secretly eating candy? No. Grandpa hasn’t bought candy for months. Was it playing when he was supposed to work? No. He had been a good boy ever since he was eight. So what was it? He had been a good boy for some time now. What had he done wrong?
The boy flicked his eyes nervously around the room. His grandpa’s craggy face seemed sadder than ever. “I wish I could delay it a few years,” Grandpa said softly. “But there is no choice. You have a right to know. Oh, what trouble your tenth birthday has caused me.” Abruptly, he got up. “I have to relieve myself. Don’t touch anything in my room until I get back.”
Immediately, the boy began to get curious. His grandpa’s room was highly exciting, full of ancient artifacts from the old days, as his grandpa called them, and he couldn’t wait to explore. He glanced around the room, wondering what he should check out first. Then, he spied the case.
It was a simple case of polished redwood about three feet long, with black lining around the edges. Nothing strange. Sure it had some strange symbols carved into it, but then again, everything in grandpa’s room had symbols. No. That was not the strange thing. The strange thing was that it radiated life. The thing inside it felt like it was really alive. It was alive, and it called for him.
In a trance, the boy crept toward the case. The part of his mind that could still think for itself warned him that he would get in big trouble for this, but it was overridden by the call of whatever was in the case. He craved to open it, to find out what it was that robbed him of his will. Slowly, as if afraid of it, the boy crept closer. He reached out tentatively, afraid yet fascinated at what would happen next. He wondered whether it was something he could recognize, or something beyond his wildest dreams. What is it? He was terrified.
“Hoi! What are you doing?” Grandpa’s fierce bark interrupted his thoughts. The trance broken, he could think of nothing but in what way Grandpa would punish him. He knew that he had just disobeyed a direct order, and with the memory of past punishments for sneaking in his room… He shuddered. This was not going to be good.
Slowly, hesitantly, the boy looked up. What he saw was completely unexpected. Instead of a mask of fury, Grandpa’s face was as sad as ever. Then, to his surprise, Grandpa took the case, and opened it himself. Inside was a black stick, with a large, red sphere on top. So that was the thing that was emanating the life. But what is it?
“It’s a scepter,” Grandpa’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “And that stone on top is an opal. Kings used it to rule in the distant past.”
But how did Grandpa get this? Did he steal it? “Grandpa, how did you—”
“And that’s where our story starts, I suppose,” Grandpa interrupted.
“What story?” the boy inquired.
Grandpa continued on as if he hadn’t heard him. “I tried to delay this moment as long as possible, but now, there is no choice. I have to tell you, now that you saw that.
“But Grandpa, what’s the story?” The boy was mad with curiosity by now.
“It is the story of the Great War.”
Needless to say, I won't be taking requests on anything. If I find anything like that, I'll just delay the next chapter. However, feedback will still be accepted and encouraged. And do try to post in this to keep the thread alive if you want more, as I do not have much free time.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One: Before the War
Chapter Two: Boredom
Chapter Three: Home of the Legends
Chapter Four: Rayquaza
Chapter Five: Rebellion
This is just a prologue, a foretaste of the things to come.
Prologue
Death had ravaged the land. In a small, abandoned hovel at the edge of a barren desert, an old man and his grandson struggled to survive. “The survivors of the Great War are not kind to anyone,” the old man said. “Especially to us, despite the good we’ve done for them. They have forgotten, and they drive it out on us. It is shameful.” The boy was always puzzled and intrigued by these words, but when he tried to inquire further, his grandpa always evaded the questions.
The boy had no name. Well, he did, and his grandpa too, but Grandpa never told him. “All in due time,” Grandpa had said. The boy never got farther than that.
Months passed by. One day was like any other. The boy and his grandpa never had enough food or money to make any special occasions actually special, so it was surprising when his grandpa made his tenth birthday such a big deal. “It is time you knew,” the old man said, suddenly looking very melancholy. That’s strange. He’s never sad. Of all the years he’s taken care of me, Grandpa’s always had a smile on his face. What’s going on?
“Come on, grandson. We need to talk. Come to my room.” The little boy immediately felt queasy. He never went into grandpa’s room except for very important things, usually because he was caught eating the candy that grandpa occasionally got. But what had he done this time? He leafed through his memories as he tried to remember what he had done wrong. Was it secretly eating candy? No. Grandpa hasn’t bought candy for months. Was it playing when he was supposed to work? No. He had been a good boy ever since he was eight. So what was it? He had been a good boy for some time now. What had he done wrong?
The boy flicked his eyes nervously around the room. His grandpa’s craggy face seemed sadder than ever. “I wish I could delay it a few years,” Grandpa said softly. “But there is no choice. You have a right to know. Oh, what trouble your tenth birthday has caused me.” Abruptly, he got up. “I have to relieve myself. Don’t touch anything in my room until I get back.”
Immediately, the boy began to get curious. His grandpa’s room was highly exciting, full of ancient artifacts from the old days, as his grandpa called them, and he couldn’t wait to explore. He glanced around the room, wondering what he should check out first. Then, he spied the case.
It was a simple case of polished redwood about three feet long, with black lining around the edges. Nothing strange. Sure it had some strange symbols carved into it, but then again, everything in grandpa’s room had symbols. No. That was not the strange thing. The strange thing was that it radiated life. The thing inside it felt like it was really alive. It was alive, and it called for him.
In a trance, the boy crept toward the case. The part of his mind that could still think for itself warned him that he would get in big trouble for this, but it was overridden by the call of whatever was in the case. He craved to open it, to find out what it was that robbed him of his will. Slowly, as if afraid of it, the boy crept closer. He reached out tentatively, afraid yet fascinated at what would happen next. He wondered whether it was something he could recognize, or something beyond his wildest dreams. What is it? He was terrified.
“Hoi! What are you doing?” Grandpa’s fierce bark interrupted his thoughts. The trance broken, he could think of nothing but in what way Grandpa would punish him. He knew that he had just disobeyed a direct order, and with the memory of past punishments for sneaking in his room… He shuddered. This was not going to be good.
Slowly, hesitantly, the boy looked up. What he saw was completely unexpected. Instead of a mask of fury, Grandpa’s face was as sad as ever. Then, to his surprise, Grandpa took the case, and opened it himself. Inside was a black stick, with a large, red sphere on top. So that was the thing that was emanating the life. But what is it?
“It’s a scepter,” Grandpa’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “And that stone on top is an opal. Kings used it to rule in the distant past.”
But how did Grandpa get this? Did he steal it? “Grandpa, how did you—”
“And that’s where our story starts, I suppose,” Grandpa interrupted.
“What story?” the boy inquired.
Grandpa continued on as if he hadn’t heard him. “I tried to delay this moment as long as possible, but now, there is no choice. I have to tell you, now that you saw that.
“But Grandpa, what’s the story?” The boy was mad with curiosity by now.
“It is the story of the Great War.”