THE FOLLOWING FANFICTION HAS BEEN APPROVED FOR
APPROPRIATE AUDIENCES
BY THE BOGUSFAKE STORY ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA, CO.

THE STORY ADVERTISED HAS BEEN RATED
M| Mature
FOR DRUG USE, LANGUAGE, SEXUAL CONTENT
AND SEQUENCES OF INTENSE FANTASY VIOLENCE
(which is ironic because Pokémon has all these things and is still rated E)

Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

"I have learned over the years that when one's mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear." - Rosa Parks

(--o--)

"I'm gonna kill him."

Soft, labored footfalls made their way up the mountain. Their owner stumbled now and again, half due to exhaustion and half due to the occasional earthquake - it was as though the world itself was a pinball machine, and someone was trying to see how many times they could tilt it before the board shut them out.

In a world where humanity has been left behind...

"I swear... I swear by his name that he'll answer for this."

He could see it now: the top, barren of the sparse remains of what used to be ruins. His vision blurred as he staggered, and just barely managed to keep himself from falling over again. His clothes were worn and tattered, speaking not only of an arduous journey but of the battles fought along the way.

Where the forces of good have been taken, the forces of evil left to rule...

"They'll all pay."

His voice was angry. But it was directed anger, both hot and cold. The blue core drove him forwards, while the red tried and failed to achieve its objective - not that it stopped him. And as the candle - his body - degraded to keep that flame alit, the wick of his soul made sure the flame burned just cold enough to last much longer than one might think.

...the Resistance finds itself poised on the delicate brink of change.

"Leaving us behind..."

Another earthquake juddered its way up the mountain, and the man stood his ground to gather his breath. When the shaking subsided he continued, and after what felt like hours he finally reached the summit. There were ruins here, and the past tense was important: now, all that remained of what once were ruins was a crumbling rectangular depression.

Something big was about to happen, something that would shake the world to its core.

"Why that mother f-"

The man brought a palm up to his head, and slowly removed his hat. He then brought it up to his mouth, and stuffed it in to help muffle the results of him rearing back and screaming his displeasure.

But which world would it be? An old world, under a new regime... or a new world, one which - even now - faces threats its leaders aren't even aware of?

Who was to blame for such a reaction? Arceus, that's who. He is the one at fault.

Soon, the very heavens would tremble with forces the likes of which no one had ever seen before. Which no one, not even the Gods themselves, could predict.

What? Oh no, you heard him. Past all the swears, and the hat he recently vowed to eat, he was cursing the Creator's name up and down.

And one young man, the one who started it all, held the key. But the key to what?

(--o--)

My name is Jonah. I'm a human. Male, age... 20, I believe? The days have gone by so quickly that I've lost track, and given the state of the world, I guess I can be excused for not finding any reason to celebrate another year of still being alive.

Six years ago, roughly, I received a Torchic as my starter Pokémon. I was fourteen, four years late because I had been pursuing higher education at the time. When Professor Birch came to town, my friends urged me to go and see the world - and given my lust for adventure, to see the sights and to unravel the world's mysteries, I eventually gave in. Somehow, this resulted in me successfully being given one of Hoenn's Fire-type starters.

Together, Corignis and I grew and journeyed, both taking the league challenge and seeing the world's most exotic places. As my team grew, so did my knowledge and my ambitions. I became embroiled with the struggle to grow smarter rather than stronger, even though my team and I were some of the strongest contenders - by the time I had all eight gym badges, I might've had my own following if I wasn't so busy trying to figure out the secrets I had stumbled upon.

Arceus' Plates and the Azure Flute. I only had two of the former, and the latter was a gift from a chick whose name I won't mention. Bad memories. Point being, I had no idea what the Plates were until after word got around that this kid, this... 'Ash Ketchum' saved the world from an angry Arceus.

Was I a skeptic? Yeah. It was a massive rumor that circulated for who knows what reason, and which had eventually been proven to be an enormous hoax, but it was still the catalyst that pushed me in the right direction. My Team and I went to Sinnoh, and we found the rest of the Plates, learning of the creation myths and researching the effect the plates had on individual Pokémon - my Team, mainly. And with that came an idea.

Arceus was a Pokémon too, right? And people have caught Legendaries before, right? That weirdo with no real name from the Sinnoh League Conference, for example - he waited until the very last 'mon he could send out before surprising everyone by showing off his Latios. I had no idea how to fight the speed and invisibility, not quickly enough to prevent my team from getting knocked clean out. I thought I came close, though, or at least I'd like to think so - I knew I wasn't anywhere near that level of strength, but I believed that eventually I could be.

Eventually I worked my way up to the top of Spear Pillar, plan in mind and with the power of my Team to back me up. I gathered the Plates, gave them to my Pokémon in hopes of giving them power on par with Arceus himself, and I freed the Ancient One from his prison.

And then I got to watch the world burn.

I was teleported home with my Team, unaware of just what Arceus pulling the God Card meant until I woke up to find my aunt was missing. The townsfolk, my friends that I grew up with, were nowhere to be found. And the Legendaries were gone too. I called out, searching for something, anything that would prove that I wasn't terrifyingly alone.

But nobody came.

The forces of good were all but entirely gone, both human and Pokémon.

The only ones left on the planet, after the mass Exodus out of nowhere, were those who didn't fit Arceus' parameters for travel, and those who had otherwise escaped Arceus' eye - some being locked in Pokéballs, some floating around in the PC System, some otherwise overlooked for whatever reason.

Like my Team and I, somehow. Or at least, the ones I still had access to. A distressingly few dozen that I pulled out of the PC and sent out all at once, just in time to somehow avoid Plasma nicking them all.

I didn't know this was Arceus' fault at the time, mind, but I had an inkling. He was a kid, he was a squid - dammit, now that song was in my head for some reason. Sorry. Point being, the only possible thing that could've caused the nightmare that was my new reality was my summoning of God Pony.

Most of those that remained, I soon discovered, were those that were 'too far gone.' Most were considered evil. And as most of the good humans, the powerful forces that kept evil in check, were now absent... it didn't take much for the entirety of the world to descend into anarchy.

Most of the world is run out of Orre, now, as Cipher had the resources and the technology to build an army. Ghetsis' plan came to fruition, and Plasma seized the entirety of the PC network - except the bits knocked offline by the shift, which they had to manually capture. Rocket became the mob they were always trying to be, and took their place at the top of the social and economical ladder. But in a strange twist of fate, Aqua and Magma united with the remnants of the League to form the Resistance. Searching for solutions, for their scions of primal authority, for alternate universes. For the ability to move things, like the giant meteor travelling towards Earth, with Mega Evolution energy - the giant research bunker managed to shelter all of its inhabitants from Arceus' eye too, since it was built by a very paranoid scientist that had also been taken.

And joining the members of the Delta Project were the scientists from Holon, whose technology in tracking Mew was invaluable in terms of aid. It was with their help that the Resistance was given their own backbone, and a base of operations far from the regions under the control of the evil Teams.

Soon, the brewing tensions erupted into open warfare, if they hadn't already. Alliances were made, which gave us GRiP and the AML. People and Pokémon alike died by the thousands, killed not with Pokémon but with firearms - a paltry effort at putting humans and Pokémon on a level playing field, at least until the humans found themselves putting their technological minds to use in ways they absolutely hated.

In a world where Aura protected both humans and Pokémon from showing so much as scratches, blood was drawn and splattered by the gallon, rivers of deep red drowning the once-pristine fields and forests in death and destruction.

Respect and love for Pokémon was now met with fear.

Society collapsed, social Darwinism meeting actual Darwinism in the most spectacular ways.

Eugenics became commonplace, and breeding for maximum Potential went rampant, its processes flawed with the lack of morality. Bad Eggs began to appear, and with increasing frequency.

The Shadow Type became naturally occurring. In addition, electromagnetic storms formerly limited to Holon started appearing in increasingly large places, resulting in the wider emergence of the Metal type.

The world as humans knew it became harder to understand, drifting closer and closer to the point of no return.

Worlds away, Arceus found it harder and harder to use his power. Not just because of the distance, but because his former realm was dying: no world means no ability to control it.

And as the internal battery powering the world of Pokémon approached the end of its life, I finally came to know all of the above information.

I concluded there was no hope for us, for our Legendaries had deserted us. Arceus, in caring for "his" Pokémon, left "Mew's mistake" to destroy themselves.

So I found myself - the once proud Trainer who stood in the travelling clothes of my youth, modified for my age - releasing muffled screams into what was left of the heavens. I swore I would find some way to do something to help, or I'd eat my hat. It all hinged on Spear Pillar still being where it was. And since Spear Pillar was completely gone, in the mouth my hat went.

I most certainly would not go quietly into the night.

(--o--)

*You tried your best,* came the voice of a Blaziken.

The human had turned right around and sat on the highest steps, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The only thing he could feel right now was an overwhelming sense of evaporated hope. "I know," came his cracked voice. He looked much the same as how he felt - beaten and battered far beyond any normal Trainer should have been. He wore a pair of Zoroark grey sweatpants which were comfortable and easy to wear, despite the fact there was a layer of graphene sewed into it - nanocanvas fabric like this could easily stop bullets, and it could even hold up to quite a few Pokémon attacks before breaking. Atop a red long-sleeved shirt of a similar make rested a handmade woollen hoodie, which had been ripped and torn but shoddily repaired by the human's own hands - it was a gift from his aunt, and one of the things the human took to remember her by was her knitting equipment. It kept him busy.

His entire Team now stood around him at varying distances - it said a lot about their bond that most of them were very close, and in the case of his starter, gently rubbing one of his shoulders. All of them, the human included, were marked with many scars from prolonged battle... scars that could have easily been healed at a Pokécenter if Arceus hadn't stolen away every single Joy - which was a massive pun, actually, not that it was funny. The only active healing machines were in Holon, since they held the only piece of offline PC network the resistance could actively use; if the human squinted his eyes, he could just barely see faint flashes of light that signified yet another electromagnetic storm.

Hopefully the rest of his Teammates, the ones who he rose, trained, and gave to what were now his closest friends, were still okay. Several had already been killed defending the cause and their freedom, and the thought was enough to make the human swallow with grief past the already-present lump of sorrow occupying his throat. It was all his fault.

*No matter what happens, you know we're here for you,* his Manectric murmured. Once, a long time ago, the Trainer had found an Electrike taking shelter beneath the Cycling Road. It was pouring rain at the time, and the human had bartered with the Pokémon, exchanging food for shelter - which was heartbreaking, because the canine was so malnourished most of it got hacked right back up. Years later, the world got to watch in awe as a ridiculously fast Manectric battled against a bona fide Latios in the Lily of the Valley conference.

"Most of you," came the bitter reply. Immediately Jonah felt worse, as he had no desire to bring them down with him. Anything but that, please.

They all sobered regardless; the still recent-to-them loss of their very close friends, the Breloom and Swellow central to their secondary League team, had taken a toll. Of the Pokémon that had disappeared or were otherwise lost, those two were the ones the group had most sorely missed; their absence left Jonah to scrape by on the skin of his teeth until he could regain their lost combat power. In some cases literally: there were several massive scars across the human's left side that never quite healed from the incident at Mt. Chimney, where Luster was beaten to a bloody pulp and subsequently 'tamed,' for lack of a better word. There were also the emotional scars, both from the losses of their teammates and the loss of innocence, since war was awful like that.

*All of us,* the Skarmory in question firmly replied. He was standing guard. Luster was relatively new: after the exodus and the loss of two main team members, travelling still had to be done in search of the 'good guys,' if there were any left. As the group was passing through Mount Chimney, the steel bird attacked the travelling band with a ferality that spoke volumes of the state of the world. Only after wounding the human and being brutally wounded in turn did the Trainer manage to catch him, curing his violent behavior... by a given definition of the term 'cure,' at least.

"..." Jonah took a deep, slow breath. "...yeah. You don't know how much that means to me."

*We may be alone, but we are together,* Sanic Sandslash grinned. *That's what really matters, y'know? Sure the world's gonna shit the bed soon, but we have each other.* The Sandslash was easily the quirkiest member of the group. He too hailed from the Routes around Mt. Chimney: back when the much smaller, younger group was going through the Hoenn League, they happened upon a Sandshrew who had fallen into a pile of ash and inhaled quite a good portion. They managed to rescue him from his fate of death by lung poisoning, and in reply the Ground-type completely and utterly wrecked Flannery's Gym, Flannery herself included. Apparently his entire battle style involved 'rolling around at the speed of sound,' which simply had to be linked to the comic starring a blue hedgehog that the Ground-type was often seen pouring over.

*And you can be sure as hell we won't give up, even if you do,* came the cute feminine voice from the water/fairy type. The Azumarill always did have a knack for sounding adorable even while swearing like a sailor - which, coincidentally, was part of her job before she 'ran away' and got caught so Jonah could teach her things. Everyone tended to call her by her species name because of this, which was an affectionate derogatory term. The fact she was found in the wild via Dexnav, knowing Hydro Cannon, spoke volumes of how large a part of the team she was.

Together, Sanic and Azumarill were an unlikely team, but a team that was ridiculously competent. See, with the League regulations having been tossed out the window with no one to enforce them, no Pokémon were limited to four moves anymore. Battles were now beyond unconsciousness - if you could permanently cripple your opponent after they passed out, before they could be returned, then you would be that much better off. This, coupled with the lack of all Joys to run the Pokécenters, left the infrastructure in shambles; more importantly, it meant Pokémon were free to use more of their latent power by using their entire movepools. This meant Jonah's ground and water-fairy "HM Slaves" were currently the most versatile, not just for travelling but also for type coverage and flexibility.

"I know," Jonah started. "I know. It's just... Arceus is - was - the Creator. That was his purpose. With him gone, does that make him the Destroyer?"

*Yveltal-* Luster started.

"Personifies death and destruction, yes," the human interrupted, "But not like this! Arceus is God, but there is no Satan." Well, except maybe Ardor or Greevil, but that might be too kind a metaphor. With the backbone of the evil forces being led by Cipher - how else would you explain the ridiculous amount of Shadow-type Pokémon roaming around? - there really wasn't much that the resistance members didn't already know about their true opponents at this point, especially since they had all been soundly defeated in the past and people had kept track.

"The Gateway to Hell is opened by the incantation of good intentions," the last team member murmured. "And Hell is empty, as all the devils are here. We, too, have our inner demons; the struggle between good and evil depends on how much we let them influence us."

Number six, or 'Triple Six,' was a 'shiny' blue-maned Zoroark with the ability to Fly, who called himself 'Michio Hino' for some inexplicable reason. He had Illusion, Imposter, and the best move of all to have in addition to this: Sketch. It's a darn shame all the Smeargle in existence were taken. But, like Sanic, Michio had a distinct 'flavor' to his techniques that spoke of a love for anime.

See, the anime producers of the time had intended to provide distractions from the war via creative outlets to raise general morale. Basically, people were paid to mock the bad guys by the bad guys, in order to let the bad guys keep control of the media and to make money off of doing so. Since they wanted humans to feel more powerful, a large portion of the resulting new anime involved technology, ranging from powered armor to giant robots, most noticeably reboots and spin-offs of the very old anime known only as Gundam. On both sides of the conflict, people watching the anime of the day saw the battles within for what they were: personifications of the prominent figures fighting in the war, with ZAFT and Blue Cosmos obviously being the people with the 'Iron GRiP.' Many of the protagonists and antagonists were actually human-like Pokémon, of course, and a lot of the design was also influenced by Pokémon. Char's Counterattack made Char and Amuro a Zoroark and a Lucario, respectively, for example; they just lip synced to the scripts of their corresponding human voice actors.

And when Sanic realized that the techniques in those anime could be pulled off in real life - not the least of which was because several of those anime series starred humans with legit superpowers, like the psychics - the Sandslash realized they were just like him and his Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog comics. When Michio revealed the fact his 'history' was basically just like said anime, hence his unique but extremely efficient fighting style no one knew how to deal with, Jonah's entire fighting force soon found itself upgraded from predictable and strong to unpredictable and utterly scary in how competent they suddenly were. Unless you were genre savvy, of course, but why would the evil conglomerate give their slaves access to television?

*Not all demons are evil,* Fritz murmured. His blue and yellow fur faintly sparked as he shifted around uncomfortably, though he did crack a faint grin. *You should know that better than anyone.* Zeta Gundam hadn't come out yet since Char couldn't possibly become a good guy, but being part of the Team belonging to one of (if not) the highest-ranking Resistance members came with certain perks. Mainly an enormous amount of untapped, unreleased ideas and anime-related sources of creativity.

The Zoroark pursed his lips, and they fell into silence once again. Michio knew that he was being compared to Char, but he didn't like to be reminded of the past he continued to keep as secret as possible. The whole giant robot thing was uncomfortably familiar to a past life he was desperately trying to keep from showing, and given the occasional moments where his power was released in its entirety, he was failing. The only saving grace was the fact that when he let that side loose, he became so scary that once he went back to normal, everyone was too afraid to ask.

It was a long moment before the human shifted, gazing into the smoky haze of the polluted atmosphere. It was nearing sunset, though it seemed to be coming from the SouthWest tonight. Since the quakes had calmed down, the sight became somewhat beautiful, calm even.

Too calm.

...wait....

Oh Arceus damn it! Silently bemoaning practically everything, sheer exasperation taking the sadness in his gut and warping it into a physical pain, the human stood. "We have company."

*I see it,* Luster said. However, he was looking in a completely different direction.

"Same," Michio murmured, also staring elsewhere while his muzzle curled into a smirk. "An ambush, looks like."

*A last stand,* Corignis agreed, wrist cuffs surging to life - by a given definition of life, mind, as the usual vibrant orange was instead a dark, smouldering red.

*We've spent four years kicking and screaming, fighting to the top then fighting to stay there,* Azumarill said, her voice fierce in its intensity. *There's no way we're gonna let them win now.* However, despite how scary she could be, it was clear the aura she needed to power her vast assortment of moves was largely depleted.

Sanic slowly took his stance next to her, rather than the default of the opposite side. He, too, was similarly out of available strength. *Stand Up to the Victory is our theme song,* he said in a noticeably more serious tone. *Upbeat because that's what we are, despite the over-abundance of death everywhere.*

*That and the fact we've lived for this long despite piloting mass-produced units,* Fritz muttered. That, of course, was a metaphor for the fact they fought without any of the 'cruel enhancements' present in their opponents. While the Manectric was normally the most relaxed out of the group, this effectively made him a very good barometer for the forces they were up against; what worried the group was how nervous he sounded right now. *Looks like a lot of incoming BTEPs.*

Jonah found a hand sliding up to clutch the Pokéball around his neck. It was filled, and it was shaking slightly in reassurance of the fact its occupant was ready and willing to fight if the need arose. She was their trump card, their escape route - just as she was for the asshole that had once enslaved her, used her, abused her. The Team had standing orders to execute the man at fault with extreme prejudice if he or his 'tina fighter was spotted, so fiercely they hated him for what he did to her. Luckily for him, he was currently a long ways away. "They're pulling out all the stops... and all I have left are a few Max Elixirs," the Trainer murmured past a faint grin. "Wait until you're drained completely before getting restocked, and I'll invite our kuudere to the party."

Predictably, this got the Team members to each laugh softly. It wasn't a happy laugh, but it was still full of genuine amusement. *Kamina help us,* Sanic playfully 'swore.' *Seriously. We need someone as badass as him.*

*We'll have to make do with you, Sanic,* The Blaziken snarked. *Let's kick some ass.*

Luster started off with an Autotomize, before dumping the rest of his available move aura into status boosts. *I've been waiting to let loose,* he cried as he shot into the air. *Screw kicking ass, let's send them straight to the Distortion World!*

Then the hordes arrived.

(--o--)

Snap. "AAAAGH!"

The battle was not going well. Even that simple phrase was a polite understatement, perhaps the understatement of the year. You wouldn't think you could apply the term 'ruined' to ruins, but the ruins of Spear pillar were in ruins. And then those ruins were now in ruins. What was once an eerily clean depression, showcasing the complete lack of the very heavy marble that had no business being at the top of Mt. Coronet, couldn't be called a depression anymore.

No, it sounded more like the understatement of the week, considering what the group has been through.

*Sanic, on your right!*

*IKAAYYYYYY!* VOOM. There was a explosion of light, and Michio found himself free of the opponent that had just managed to break an arm.

It was a battlefield riddled with craters and shifted earth from the Sandslash's ground-type techniques, several hunks actually having been torn out and used as cover. Then the slabs of rock were decimated by the onslaught of enemy attacks, resulting in piles of rubble being used as ammunition for rock-type attacks on both sides. None of them could use Earthquake anymore, as there was a cavern beneath them that the entire field would sink into if they did.

"M-Michio!" The Trainer was crying.

Several of those craters were filled with the blood of the fallen, as bodies littered the area from left to right. On both sides of the field, the larger downed 'mons were being used as cover by those small enough to fit. Since some of the Pokémon present were controlled via cybernetics, this meant a very few of those larger 'mon had actually managed to tank a hit and reform mid-battle to turn on their captors.

Every single time this happened, they were cut down with impunity. Either by the enemy forces or the defending Team, the latter of which who couldn't trust the 'converts' enough to pay them any special attention in regards to where the Team aimed.

"S-soh... Nuri kabe... unko no nioi kagu hito, BAKA YAROU!" The Zoroark Roared, cramming the broken bone into place and Thunder Waving the muscles taught, even while he became shrouded in deep red. "KOROSUUUU!" Then Michio's Night Daze fired, and that entire portion of the battlefield was suddenly rendered inhabitable. The massive explosion cleared the way for the 'rark to surge forward, his rage blinding him to pain while his keen mind allowing it to be directed, forged into a new blade wielded by a 'mon who had fought worse odds and survived anyway.

The Trainer did not want to do this, but there wasn't a choice anymore. Not when his friends, his family, were getting hurt. Not when Michio had to let loose that darker part of him just to extend the time they had before they were overrun. Not when they were this close to losing.

Not when losing meant death.

Jonah could tell that the horde of enemy Pokémon wasn't going to let up any time soon, despite how hard his team was beating them back. He shivered at the implications, blind to the world thanks to Michio's illusions. Faced with no other option, he reached into the hammerspace that served as his Bag, empty aside from the tools that he promised he wouldn't use until it was absolutely necessary. The tools that put him on an even playing field, the weapons that dealt indiscriminate death to all they were faced with.

"HEAVY ORDINANCE INBOUND!" Jonah shouted, voice wavering but still strong with conviction, of the knowledge of what needed to be done.The team instantly became more aware of their surroundings, panicked at the code phrase and what it meant. The opponents who turned to the shouting human were rewarded with the sight of the Acting Champion suddenly being exactly where they thought he wasn't, pulling out a firearm and getting into a shooter's stance.

It was a Blitz-522: a semi-automatic pistol, smaller and lighter than its older brother the Colt-77. So named because, unlike traditional gunpowder, this firearm used electricity and magnetism to shoot metal slugs at a very high speed with next to no kick. Due to the intense speed, however, when the human finally aimed and pulled the trigger, those with sensitive ears were momentarily deafened by the loud CRACK that rent the air.

The Bio-Technology Enhanced Pokémon that had been giving Corignis a lot of trouble - a Nidoking, scarred and patched up with cybernetics so many times it should've been dead a year and a half ago - suddenly went still, a visible hole about the width of a dime piercing clean through its skull. There was a moment where you could see the terrified look in the Blaziken's eyes through that hole before the body fell, leaving behind a Starter in the midst of a mega evolution.

The Blaziken knew what that shouted phrase meant. If the circumstances had become so dire that the human felt the need to actively preserve his own life, where the defending group had done so completely up until now, then the fight had progressed to a new stage. Nevermind the fact that if the human had been a few seconds late, the Fire-type avian probably would've gotten his skull crushed like an egg.

This same revelation also saw the release of the Pokéball attached to Jonah's neck, the sound masked by a second loud CRACK as the human hit Fritz' opponent in the arm - giving the Manectric just enough time to lance out a Charge Beam to the face, frying what at one point would've been a grass-type's nervous system. When the white light faded, it resolved into a shiny Gardevoir, whose eyes were closed as she adjusted to the reality that she could only hear while within her Ball.

Then those eyes snapped open, and instantly half of the field fell. ""

This was Ring, the Gardevoir formerly owned by Zero, the man who almost killed Giratina by copying its data and using it to develop a fighter jet with the same abilities. She was named after Ring Mao, who shared her pink color scheme and the whole 'cool head in nigh everything' schtick. True to her telepathy, the group soon became densely packed once again, three more CRACKs sounding out before the human lowered his arms and the 'voir set up a dome composed of a mix of Protect, Barrier, Light Screen, Reflect, and Safeguard.

The human swiftly turned around, ignoring the mix of exhaustion and worry coming from his team-mates as he set his Bag on the ground and began rifling through all of the pockets he had in the thing. "No... no... fuck, no..."

*Jonah...*

The human brought up an arm, wiping the tears out of his eyes... or at least trying to. They just wouldn't stop.

Once upon a time, he saw fighting as a sport, a good test of how to apply the knowledge and experience he got over the years. Now he outright hated it. Jonah understood, of course, the reason why he had to be trained in the use of firearms - in the event his Team couldn't protect him, or in a worst-case scenario like this one, he had to be able to fight in self-defense too. And at this point, the only way to actually do that was to focus all of a human's small power into single strikes from a single weapon.

What set Jonah apart from the rest of the Resistance members was the same reason that got him elected to the position needed to own such an advanced pistol: the fact that Jonah always went that extra mile, owning fifteen badges and placing in the top eight during his home League Conference. And he could do that because he thought very quickly, cleanly, and concisely - he planned on the fly, and he planned well. Combine that with the eye for detail honed over years of archaeology and you had an insanely good marksman.

One that was outright beside himself because he had learned to value life, in all its forms. The feeling of taking a life, of ordering his Team to take those lives, wasn't new to him. It still weighed heavily. It always would.

Heaving a shuddering breath, the Trainer stopped, muttering a weak "I'm out" as he procured the handful of six Max Elixirs - the last of all his medical supplies. As he handed them to Corignis, Fritz limped over - favoring his left paw - and pressed up against his Trainer for comfort. Of course, all this succeeded in doing was getting to human to cling tightly to his electric-type, the dam finally breaking. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Ring was currently holding onto a heavily panting Michio, one arm raised high to fuel the barrier that was currently being pounded on while the other ran a Heal Pulse over his broken arm. Her face was scrunched, cool façade clearly annoyed - she was very concerned over both her love interest and her savior, of course, but there were more pressing matters. ""

The 'quick and easy' approach was using 'brutal Psychic,' since all it took to actually kill something was to bypass their Aura and pinch things, such as major arteries or vital organs. Since psychic types were skilled in relation to the mind, it was easiest for Ring to inflict strokes and/or brain aneurysms. It still took a lot of power to do that though, and by buying the window they needed, she had just burned through the entirety of the move aura she would've normally saved for Future Sight and status moves like Trick Room. In other words, she was already down by about a third of what she could have otherwise contributed.

They all winced as a Hyper Beam lanced out from afar, smacking into the powerfully built barrier - it bounced right back towards the sender, twice as powerful as before, and the source abruptly keeled over in response to the resulting explosion. This was Michio's fault, and he slumped, completely spent... just in time to have the spray-bottle top torn off the top of a Max Elixir, the whole thing being swiftly poured down his throat. One of the downsides to Sketch was the fact he had reduced move aura available for any move he copied, and to cope with this he divided his Aura into two main portions: one for his own abilities centered around his type, and the other for his illusion abilities and all the moves he could do that he normally wouldn't be able to. The latter had been completely drained, and if the former had been too, the 'rark probably would've died. "There's an Absol or something out there," he coughed once his throat was clear. "I could feel the Pressure drain."

*N-no,* came Sanic's voice. *Leave it for Ring.*

*You know you need to stock up, Sanic,* Corignis replied in an exhausted tone. It was true: the Sandslash was struggling simply to stay awake, so much of his aura had been used both to protect himself and to take care of his foes. He had racked up quite a kill count, too, but he had done so quickly enough that he became a prime target - at this point he was sporting quite a collection of scratches and bruises, and a large portion of his spines were outright gone. The bases of where they were happened to be very bloody, which probably meant they were missing because they had been forcefully ripped out.

*I can't,* he blearily murmured, before slumping to the side - he was barely caught by the water-fairy, who was much better off simply due to the fact she constantly had Aqua Ring on. *I need healing, and it takes... too much energy for Ring to patch us up. I'm... better off Returned, give it to Ring or Michio so they can go all out.* Deep inhale. *Whoo I'm fucked up.*

Corignis, still in his Mega form, spared a glance over his shoulder at his Trainer. While he was still crying, the human did manage to reply with a nod before raising Sanic's ball and snatching him up in a red beam of light. "...you did great, Sanic," Jonah muttered. "Better than I ever could anyway."

*You gonna be alright?* The Blaziken asked.

"...no," came the Trainer's honest reply. They all winced as another very hard strike impacted the shield - this time a Giga Impact, or something along those lines. This time a green surge of light blocked the move before shattering, and Ring winced before getting to work forming another layer Mirror Coat behind everything else, a last-ditch defense for when the dome finally broke. "Neither will you, or any of us, soon. We need something big to get us out of here, enough to turn the tides... or at least enough to give us a line of escape." Of course literally the entire mountain was swarming with incoming reinforcements, and they'd probably burn themselves out long before they even came close to making a break for it. Arceus damnit. But maybe-

*Ring, open the shield! Ten o clock high!* Fritz yelled, startled. Only after Ring complied did everyone realize they had completely forgotten about Luster, and in the split second it took for the avian to literally crash-land inside before the shield became a dome again, everyone suddenly felt as if their injuries were paltry in comparison.

The once-proud metal-clad bird appeared to be half-melted, several of his feathers bent or otherwise broken - which said a lot, considering they were made of Steel. His entire right wing had been warped with heat, about a sixth of his second top-most primary having been partially liquefied and fused to the more vulnerable red of the wing below. The top-most primary simply wasn't there. The left wing was crumpled, and couldn't be clearly seen due to the fact the bird had outright landed on it with the force of a falling air conditioner. The coating of blood wasn't new, as they were all in desperate need of bathing except for Ring, but given some of the deep gouges it was clear that most of it was Luster's own. And yet the most shocking thing was the fact he was still conscious, pupils shrunk down to pinpricks and his breath coming in sharp gasps.

Both Michio and Ring responded, the Dark-type willingly shunting a lot of his new strength into a Heal Pulse to join the Psychic-type's own. The Trainer could only approach silently, a hand carefully sliding forward to softly caress along the armored bird's head. As he couldn't do much else, the Trainer's expression was wrought with an expression of pity and intense self-loathing. "Talonflame?"

Luster replied with a weak nod, eyes closing tightly at the feeling of the 'rark forcefully separating the welded feathers of his right wing. This had the unintended effect of causing them to snap right off, liquefying completely and evaporating as the bird smartly used the last of his move aura for another Autotomize. Basically, steel sloughs off him like water and evaporates to be absorbed into the physical aura, resulting in the observed boost in attack; while he couldn't use that power himself, he could do one more thing with all those status upgrades. *Don't... need to worry... about any a-aerial... strikes. A-at least... for a while.*

"Shhh," Michio murmured in a soft tone. "Rest. You've more than earned it."

As the bird replied with another weak nod before going limp, something inside Jonah just... broke. He spent a long time staring at the Skarmory, watching his unconscious form rise and fall in quick, painful breaths. Once the bird was healed enough to recover naturally when the time came - if the time came - the human's arm numbly rose and returned the steel-type, continuing to gaze at the place the avian previously occupied. The sight simply refused to leave his eyes, and it was joined by countless other memories of those who were much worse off and yet still continued to fight - not just on the side of the Resistance, but on the side of the conglomerate.

There were those who should have been dead but continued anyway, as if they felt no pain, as if they had nothing else to lose with their loved ones gone. It was horrifying, but understandable in a way: give it your all and you helped bring your side that much closer to victory. Of course, the conglomerate basically said death was the eventual outcome anyway, so why not pervert their slaves and tools to get the absolute maximum out of them? If they break, they can just make new ones anyway. Thus the term 'zombie soldiers,' and from there the 'Army of Death,' both in the adaption of G Gundam and on the war front.

None of them seemed to have noticed the ball of white signifying a Baton Pass flying into Ring before Luster was returned, with the exception Ring herself, who didn't want to point it out lest she break her Trainer completely.

"Hey Ring?" Jonah eventually said. Yes, Jonah did in fact notice anyway, but it gave him an idea. Possibly the only idea they could use.

"" Now Ring was worried. That tone was entirely too flat for her liking.

"Y'know how Gardevoir are famed for their ability to create black holes?"

The Shiny psychic-type's eyes widened, before her expression hardened. ""

"Might as well." The human swallowed and stood, shakily but with resolve. "I don't see any other way out, and from what I've heard it should be the power we need to break our way out of here. If the rest of us buy you some time-" Another attack rocked the shield dome, the ground beneath them cracking as they very abruptly realized that they literally had no time to buy. "Just do it!" The human reached into his Bag once more, replacing his pistol with a larger SMG of similar make and function; while his movements were still a little shaky, the clear drive to forge onwards was still there.

They had always won before, and had gotten hurt before, but nothing like this... and Jonah had promised himself, promised them, that he would protect his family. It was all he could do - all any of them could do, really. This really was their last stand.

All Ring needed was to see the look in his eyes before she nodded firmly. ""

As soon as the shield dropped, the initial response from the group was a whole mess of Counters and Mirror Coats, giving them the breathing room they needed as the Trainer once again stayed out of the much of the fight. Only this time, Jonah fought back in the only way he could, mowing down any that came close with brutal efficiency. In his mind, all he saw were threats to him and his own, as his tears had already been shed to leave him empty and focused.

The term 'mow down' was accurate too, as his trigger finger tended to stay held down when using larger magazines. With the whole magnetic launching mechanism, there wasn't any recoil, so his aim didn't degrade until it left altogether when the gun clicked over empty. Of course, there was a larger problem with heat, and the noise tended to make you deaf to the world after a while; considering the fact that the human was already drowning everything out, nothing seemed to matter other than what was directly before him.

Point, shoot, aim spray from side to side, reload, repeat.

The entire Team was fighting with everything they had, despite how exhausted they were - and perhaps because of that fact too. There was nowhere to go, and the horde of 'simple tools' continued to seem utterly endless in their numbers. As Ring continued to build up power, the ring of fierce fighters battling for their very lives soon found themselves clustered in a defensive formation directly beneath the stone where - not long ago - one Giratina surged forth and snapped Cyrus up into his steely jaws. Or at least, that was the rumor, since Cyrus was still alive and kicking and part of the group now ruling the world.

"" the 'voir telepathed.

"" the human's thought process ground to a halt as his gaze was momentarily drawn skyward. ""

"This hand of mine is burning red!" Corignis abruptly shouted. "ITS LOUD ROAR TELLS ME TO GRASP VICTORY! TAKE THIS!" His entire body erupted into yellow-white flames. "ERUPTION!" There was a massive explosion of heat that launched the Mega Blaziken into the air, even while dealing damage to the forces below. "BURNING!" All of that flaming aura was focused into his right arm, flaring into a blinding Inferno. "FINGEEERRRRR!" And before the incoming Shadow Latias could dodge out of the way, it found a taloned, flame-wreathed hand clutching at its neck, followed by its Blaziken owner ramming his knee into her back and forcing the pair to the ground. "AND NOW... HEAT END!"

Corignis used Self-Destruct! All of his Aura, or what was left of it anyway, abruptly forced its way out in a massive explosion of light and heat. In the midst of all the force literally shaking the battlefield, a red beam lanced out of the smoke and found home in the first Pokéball on Jonah's belt.

None of the Team had time to see the results, however, because Ring had just succeeded in forcing a massive amount of Psychic-type energy into one point in space, resulting in a singularity.

Or at least, that was the ideal reaction.

Instead, it created an unstable vortex, one that pulsed all that pent-up energy outwards before increasing suction. There was a pregnant moment in which the massive Legendary-killing strike resulted in the mountaintop finally giving up and collapsing inward, the Team and their Trainer falling... before their descent was halted, gravity becoming zero before starting to reverse its pull.

""

Cramming his rifle into his Bag, as he was halfway towards reaching a new magazine anyway, he shifted just close enough to let Ring cling tightly to him for support as both of the human's arms were used to snatch up the rest of the Team in red returning lasers. His quick mind figured that they'd be safe in there, no matter what happened, and the human looked over his shoulder at the 'voir. Her expression went from worried to panicked as she realized she still couldn't teleport out.

""
""
""

The human flicked off the now-retreating forces with an exhausted smirk, paying special attention to the sight of a Legendary that was no longer breathing.

Then his eyes shut as he leaned into his 'voir, the pair accepting their fates as they found themselves sucked into a sphere of complete darkness...

(--Ω--)

...

<...>

"<...Jonah?>"

...ow.

<...well, I don't feel very dead. I feel like I should be, though....>

""

Fuck, everything hurt.

""

Slowly, the human forced his eyes open, having to blink repeatedly in order to get used to the very bright light.

It took a while for the blurs to resolve themselves into things he could recognize: trees, everywhere, his shiny Gardevoir, and what appeared to be a living equine counterpart to the Aile Strike Gundam.

Oh, and the equine also appeared to be very angry. And he had friends. Quite a few friends, actually. They too seemed really pissed off, for whatever reason.

"...aw hell."

These were the only two words the human could get out before he sank back into unconsciousness.

Author's Note

* Plasma, gAlactic, Rocket, Cipher; Aqua, Magma, League. Yes, as a joke, the former is sometimes abbreviated CRAP.

I'll admit, this is the first time I've ever wrote and submitted something resembling a story. Even if it is heavily influenced by the work this is based on - it's designed to be a standalone story, the 'other side of the mirror' as it were, which is why the summary of the world's history is as similar as it is. It is, after all, part of the same pane of glass.
Not that I'd ever claim my ideas are original. I know it's not entirely my work, as it's a fan work of a fan work.
To be fair, I'm working out the idea as I go. Feedback would be a wonderful aid, hence why the story has reached you without any proofreading or outside editing. That, and since the world is collapsing, it stands to reason that many things won't make complete sense until they're explained.