Chapter 18-The Incentive of Victory
My dreams started off in nightmares of endless killing, as usual. Same environment, with light shining in the direction of where all these enemies were coming from, and total darkness emitting everywhere else. The same ability to kill endlessly and the same bloody victory streak were also elements of these terrible dreams. Actually, these were my dreams for a while now.
Then the absurd killing frenzy I was going into was abruptly cut short. Everything went black, and two words shot out of nowhere: "WAKE UP!!!"
And I promptly did.
I was still in the truck I was heading in, having barely escaped Team Plasma, still encroached by Forty-so Pokemon, all having seemingly and abruptly been awoken from nightmares of their own.
Oh, there were also two totally uninvited guests.
One was NOT human. A pitch-black upper body with no legs after it's torso split into a kind of umbrella, with the only color coming from a red 'collar' around it's head, a single blue eye, and a mass of smoke-like hair.
While whatever voice propelled that part of my mind was concerned on Darkrai, I was concerned about his opponent.
This dude was a big fellow, but he couldn't have been older than sixteen. He was bulky, all right, muscles ripping from every part of his body, and he had a large waistline as well. He had a black bo-staff, with three daggers on each end in a triangular fashion similar to the design of Lesha's mace. His hairstyle had three mohicks-what I call mohawks that require you to style your hair over shave off most of it. He wore the clothes most Volteers do, which was some cross between medieval and modern, all of it black, his skintone matching his clothes. The real thing that got me moving was that there was a mark that subtly revealed itself on his clothing: the Arbitarian eye.
The instant I saw the Arbiter's symbol, I took out the sword, the Bellartix, and with the assistance of the many Pokemon intent on paying me back, and with their combined cries awakening Issac, I promptly started a brutal attack. On both of them.
A gesture to Darkrai told most of my crew to initiate the attack on Darkrai, Issac's assistance included. Scyez, Lesha, Film, Meta, and Vyraz, disobeying me, helped me take the fight directly to the brick that was attacking Darkrai up until that point. How either got in there was none of my business, how they were going to get out was.
The teen had a large jaw, a cleft in the chin, and blood-red eyes...Blizzard's brother, Quake. I really started hating myself for giving Gear all those enemies. Pandora was a surprise, but Pandora was an easy defeat (or she wasn't expecting me to be that strong). Even though fights between Gear and Quake always resulted in the former winning, Quake gave Gear some trouble. I suddenly remembered how Gear nearly killed me, seemingly ignoring all my attacks and only winning due to a lucky coincidence and a timely Evolution. Even if Quake couldn't win against Gear, that he could put up an actual fight was enough to say that I was already going neck-deep in s**t.
I could already tell Darkrai was experiencing difficulties: his yelling of such phrases like "ARRRGH!" and "GAHHHH!" was enough for that. One particularly loud "AIEEEEGH!" made Quake jump a little, giving me enough opportunity to slip past his defenses and land a small blow. The Arbitarian blood activated the Arbit Burn, regardless of how small the laceration I actually made, but my single cut was enough to allow Lesha to bonk Quake on his head with the former's mace, and for Scyez to then punch Quake in the gut. For somebody I made to be an attack sponge, he stumbled backward upon the attacks. He had fought with Darkrai for a few minutes now, and his clothes were accordingly dotted with lacreations and energy burns, but he seemed to have been winning his battle until now.
Quake wasn't phased, nor was he dumb enough to stop and say something. Quake wasn't this smart in the story I made for Gear...Then again, everything was much more realistic about the story I made for Gear when I heard of his actual legacy, and I didn't need his actual legacy to know that Quake's IQ level wasn't going to be the one I imagined. However, I wasn't expecting Quake to actually be as smart as Blizzard.
He rushed forward, Arbit-Burning pole in hand, and took two quick stabs at me. They did almost nothing, in terms of Arbitarian energy, I barely took damage from the energy. Iris's own Arbit-Burns weren't for eradicating existence, and even if Quake's were, the real damage came from the stab. The burn was put out as soon as the staff left my body.
But, even if it was one of the most minor burns in the world, It still hurt like hell. Arbiters cared more for how much pain they inflicted with each stab over how much damage they did with each stab. Painful over fast-that was what Arbiters did. And the amount of energy successfully burning me was the equivalent of a scratch.
Quake raised an eyebrow as he stabbed me again, still not going for the heart, as I moved back, moving myself out of the staff's own blades. That was more painful than it sounded. Regardless, I ignored it. Knight's Assent requires those partaking to go through pain-proofing, and I'm not saying how that works. D**m Gov't.
Quake lunged at me, and I parried his blow, kicking his jaw. I realized how hard this was going to be. It felt a little like kicking a rock. I had six times the strength of most olympic athletes at the age of twelve.
Scyez got in on the action, Ice-Punching Quake...Where it hurt. He stumbled over, still hating Scyez for strength to outmatch me (I checked it), and Lesha used a move I swore Pikachu couldn't use: Energy Ball. I didn't really care how Lesha learned it, it hit Quake regardless. And it also landed where it hurt.
Quake retaliated at once, launching a few orbs of Arbitarian energy at my feet, and started spinning his Bo-Staff around and around and around in front of him, in an attack I knew as the frontal plow spin, and it became apparent that he cared little for the truck itself. He tore straight through the metal with both attacks, leaving large streaks in the ground, Arbit-Burning it in the process. And he was moving at me, fast. And somehow, he defied gravity.
I back-flipped away, my five-Pokemon group moving away from me. Meanwhile, It seemed that the rest of the Pokemon had finished their jobs, Issac included. Apparently, the went for the kill, even if I did want to ask Darkrai what the hell was going on.
I telepathed. They had no argument: I had tried to make a sheet of metal come up in front of him, only to have it be decimated by his frontal plow spin. Scyez attempted an Aura Sphere, but the plow spin deflected it, narrowly missing Issac.
Then I had an idea.
I suddenly removed the floor from under him, and Quake canceled his plow spin on the spot, using his bo-staff to keep him inside the truck. He jumped back up with a kinetic burst, staff ready in an overhead strike, and I slipped under him, letting it slam into the ground. A large burst of Arbiter energy came out of it, but thankfully everybody was out of the way.
I stabbed him in the back with my blade, now fused with the Starblazer, and he wasn't pleased at what I did. He jumped up with enough force to launch me and my blade straight out of him, howling.
"Gah!" Quake said. His voice was gravelly and coarse, to the point where I wondered if rocks were grinding in his voicebox. He turned to face me, letting his backside go vulnerable to Issac, who was reloading as fast as he could.
I attempted several Volteer tricks, but it was at last that Quake took some advice from the element where he got his namesake. Sand suddenly came into the place, making a sandstorm easily. Wounds I had suffered prior were taking a further prick with the sand going into it, and it was also creating new wounds…And I couldn’t see him.
Suddenly, The sandstorm stopped. I looked around, and remembered why Issac was chosen to be the sniper to kill Luvant: He never missed with precision weapons, quite like me. Only he needed far less Volteer-based assistance than I did.
Issac shot him with his Sniper Rifle, straight in back of the head. Quake turned to look at him, angry. Stuck in his skull was the shot he had taken. The Arbit-Burn had vanished, too. Somehow, even with a bullet lodged into his skull, he survived. Gear's outraged image after taking all those firearms to his body came right back.
I shot the Bellartix at Issac's round, and it seemed to do some real damage at last: Quake reeled, grabbing the back of his head, where the Bellartix and Issac's round were embedded in, and fell over, still alive by the barest trace. The dark vortex formed under him, but I couldn't help but finish the job.
Sadistic glee at being able to do this apparent all over, as well as some other Pokemon who were disgusted at Quake’s alliance, I continued to shoot Quake where the bullet went into his steel-hard skull, further causing him pain and suffering, shocking him with the Paradox Lightning when Issac's sniper round fell out of his forehead. He was dead after the first extra bullet went into his head, but I wasted the whole clip regardless, and he was long gone via the Paradox Lightning before the vortex took away nothing and vanished. Meta even joined in halfway through, to punch him in the back with bone-crushing power, but he stopped when I started unleashing some kilowatts of energy on Quake's body.
Once it was done, the truck started to stop. When it halted entirely, one could easily see the damages. Torn metal was ripped up from the floor of the truck all over, and I was lucky we didn’t step into any holes during the Sandstorm. Bloodstains were all around, some Pokemon were injured from fighting Darkrai, so on and so forth. The hole I created when I tried to stop Quake in his tracks was the largest of all, enough to fit the Tyranitar.
The back opened, and Duplix's figure was to be seen. Outside, the light was blinding: We had arrived at Undella Town.
"What the hell happened back here?!" Duplix asked.
"Somehow, Darkrai decided to troll us all with some nasty dreams, and somehow, A loyalist decided to stroll in here as well. We killed them both, and no casualties...Somehow."
"That's some lucky s**t!" Duplix said. No arguments here.
Outside, this place...It immediately struck me as a place I wanted to live at. Undella Town was the least Volteer-packed community in all of Povinal, even after Cavix fell. The reason why is at spring break, college students gather at the capital of spring breaks everywhere to party it up, and during the summer, all too many people gather here for safety for Volteers, and it happened very unexpectedly.
Yet, it was beautiful. White sands gently sloped into a massive beach that stretched for miles, and it was crawling with friendly wildlife. Some people were swimming early, and even in the distance, I could see Pokemon playfully dance around people in the waters. Green palms jettisoned out of the beach from where we were, early sunbathers were here with umbrellas in their drinks, it was all calming and nice and warm, and it was the change of pace I wanted to have at last. If I couldn’t make it back home, for whatever reason, I’d stay here. It was serene, it seemed like the last place anything bad could happen. Togekiss came flying around, that's how good it was.
Issac and I toured the place: Duplix agreed to stay with the Pokemon and alert us if anything odd happened or if the Calypso came. When it did, it would land on a secluded part of the Undella Bay beach, where the truck was parked. Nobody would see the cloaked minicarrier calmly descend into the waters. We toured Undella Town to it's fullest, seeing the houses, the beaches, the greens, and other things.
Scyez, Lesha, Film, Meta and Vyraz refused to leave my side, after supporting me in the battle, either with their presence or their actual attacks, Lesha and Film on my shoulders, Scyez and Vyraz beside me, and Meta floating above me. I spied the house that I'd be living in later: One of the few two-stories around here, nice and big, complete with it's own swimming pool and large garage. It’s also close to the beach, close to a small cliff that I could climb and see the sunrise, it had a small dock to park a boat in, it was property I’d like. I currently live there, in fact.
I talked with the residents. They were happy people, living out their lives. One gave me a pretty scale he found. Another gave me some kind of disk so that my Pokemon could explore the ruins, because these ruins were deep underwater in the bay. I saw the Riches Condo, even. A structure made of genetically modified white coral and glass, it glittered brilliantly in the light, a sun bathed in the sun.
<"Mates, the Calypso has arrived! Freedom ho!"> Duplix proudly telepathed, midday, after some of the best hours of my life.
We walked back to the small beach...It was a beautiful place, Undella. I'd probably never get tired of it. There's always something happening there, and it's usually not an odd or bad event, and if it is, it's easily solved. It's usually just a competition or someone famous coming to their condos or their summer houses, nothing too disruptive or big...Undella Town was a paradise. It gave me back hope, something I almost forgot existed.
I would never forget my time there, and I made a promise to come back someday. However...
<"Avalon, how in hell did you survive that long? With that many Pokemon in tow, too?">
Mario telepathed as I approached the ship.
<"You have no idea. Come on, let's get off this planet already, I've had enough of it for a good while.">
I telepathed back.
...The threat of Ghetsis, or worse, Gear, was enough to make me board the Calypso once more.
Even if his clothes were the same color palette as his Plasma outfit (major changes in actual clothing aside), Duplix immediately had started looking more like a Volteer than a dumb Plasma grunt. He was also induced into Eon Sky nicely, not tolerating the total landslide loss of his brother for the office of President of the Onlisk Republic to an Arbiter.
The least of my worries.
I distributed Pokemon fairly and as I, the Pokemon, and their chosen owners saw fit. Film and Meta refused to leave my side, so I kept them.
And, after that, I rarely strayed from doing four things: eating, sleeping, going to the bathroom when necessary, and training.
Whether I was training Mario or Karazin, my Pokemon or myself, I was training vigilantly, and in my non-sleeping, eating or toiletry time, I trained. I trained my Pokemon in a style that Knight's Assent users could have recognized, in a sense. However, this Pokemon-based style of Knight's Assent is my own creation, totally Gov't-controlling free, even if it shared many things with Knight's Assent. One of the few things that wasn't: Being able to fight without any commands, and out of logical reasoning and strategic attacks. This style, which I myself keep to myself, is the reason why I am currently ranked as the number one Pokemon Battler of all time. I'm not even telling them what to do: I'm telling them about how they should figure out what to do.
Lesha was too belligerent to even try it, but I knew that she didn't need to, and that she was already a combatant to be respected by all sorts. Scyez picked up on it quickly, and she was the first one done. It took a while for Film, Vyraz and Meta to grasp it, but I broke through with Vyraz after a month.
Mario was nearly finished with his Knight's Assent: At this point, I could say that he was capable of attacking Gear and surviving, or at least surviving long before dying. Meanwhile, Karazin was somewhere halfway through. He wasn't struggling, either. Neither matched my pace in the art it was, however.
For all those who have thought out over thousands of theories how I came from barely surviving Gear in my second encounter to how I actually won against him the third recorded time I met my belligerent childhood hero, then my actual training should shed light on it. I tried whatever popped into my mind, even if it was so silly top-notch comedians would be impressed at how insane an attempt it was, and yet more often than not, I won. Even in times when I was simply walking by, I was training the power that allowed me to knock out the guards in the Cold Storage and the mass of Grunts, the Shadow Triad and their bipedal black foxes, and Melodey: Influency. Influency is basically the equivelant of mind control, except one uses Psychic power in ways most Legendary Volteers cannot comprehend to make one think a certain thought of his own accord, despite the idea originating from the Volteer that used it. Yes, that means I can basically make you think what I want you to. The better part of it? I can also make you act upon it, at once. If I made you think of committing suicide, and forced you to act upon that thought, you'd take the nearest way to kill yourself and do it willingly. There's no defense against what an Influential can do to a person except making the Influential...Screw up. I'm not going into deep detail on Influency after that, but I can say truthfully that I made Issac agree with me on an argument, and he never did realize that he wouldn't have agreed to my point of view unless I made him do so. Unless he reads this.
Hell, it was something minor: What was better, Dogs or Cats?
However, Influency wasn't the only thing I did. I focused upon any move that Karazin and Mario made that wasn't a part of my own move-pool, and I myself took it upon myself to master it. I usually did, albeit I stayed away from their weapons after I needed Karazin to unravel me from a whip attack gone terribly wrong. I wanted my move-pool to be vast: If there was some kind of way to do something, I'd do it to the best of my ability.
This included a long-secondary move-pool I had: Volteer-based attacks. Until that point, I was totally fine with primarily using my close-quarters combat genius and the Illicit Blessing/Starblazer combo to take down my foes, along with whatever gun I found along the way. However, Gear learned from last time how not to kill me, and used my less-than-grand Volteer moves against me, showering me with a wave of Volteer attacks that I couldn't withstand. I remember what he did, and I vowed that it would never happen again, not against any foe, in any circumstance. I would never be outmatched, in any way, shape, or form, ever again.
At this point, I started developing my infamous sadistic nature towards foes I disliked. The Arbiters were now the only foes I ever dreamed of, and in my sleep even I didn't hesitate to use whatever I had in my disposal to kill them all, glee too apparent. They were dreams, real dreams, they were, bloodshed aside. I awoke, almost bummed out that it wasn't real. If it was, then by the end of the month the Arbiters would have to have been losing spectacularly. from a loss of personnel. But this transmitted to my training as well, making me grin whenever I imagined myself using a technique to kill an Arbiter somehow, whether using telekinesis to fling weapons at foes, or trying a multitude of punches and kicks guaranteed to turn a human body into a indistinguishable bloody pulp within the time-span of thirty seconds. I had no love of the Arbiters: The men that the Aribters brainwashed and used as footmen were not the same men once they were brainwashed, they were Arbiters, and I felt no mercy. To me, the brainwashed were dead, and I was simply ridding the world of their reanimated husks.