Welcome. It has been a long road, that’s for certain. After three and a half years, The Sevii Islands Saga, the first part in a three part series, was completed. This is its sequel. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO HAVE READ THE SEVII ISLANDS SAGA TO READ THIS.
I thought it would be interesting to note that when I originally conceived my fic, this was the main plot. Although the story has gone through many versions, the concept has remained the same. Now, if you read The Sevii Islands Saga, you will know that most of it was a journey fiction. If that is what you are expecting here, I am sorry to disappoint. While there will be many aspects of the happy-go-lucky journey fiction that most of TSIS was, they will diminish over the course of the fiction’s 25 chapters, becoming completely eliminated by the end, and literally non-existent in the final installment. I would venture to say that this is hybrid journey-war fic, like nothing else on this forum.
The Story so Far:
War has enveloped the world. Oblivia, Almia, Fiorre, and parts of Sinnoh, Kanto, Hoenn, the Orange Islands have fallen under the rule of the ruthless Galactic Coalition, a rebellious, terrorist organization formed in the Sevii Islands originally as a special interest group, by John’s grandfather, Patrick. Patrick died, six months prior to the start of TSIS in the prequel, Four Island High, but it was later revealed that Cyrus, the leader of Team Galactic and his former best friend, killed him. At the start of The Sevii Islands Saga, the Pokémon Deoxys was resurrected on Birth Island, in an attempt by Galactic to gain control of the Sevii Islands. After following an ancient prophecy on how to destroy the beast, John and his friends, Mike, Lindsey, George, and Joey were thrust into the war. John and Scott, Cyrus’s son, managed to incapacitate Deoxys and kill Cyrus, but George and Joey died in the process. Simultaneously, nuclear weapons stolen from Johto were smuggled into every capital city except for that of Almia and the Sevii Islands, and set off, killing millions. The Galactic Coalition thus took control of many countries, waging a campaign to capture the world, and thus shape it in their image.
John, in the mean time, wanting nothing to do with the war after the battle that claimed his friends’ lives, was thrust yet again into the conflict by his Aunt Lorelei, in order to protect him from a dark secret plaguing both her and the President of the Sevii Islands. His mission, along with his old teacher, is to garner the Johto militia and bring them to the front lines, which are rapidly approaching them…
1.A Timeless Flight
3.Nice Guys Finish Last
5.Don't Pressure Us
6.Up All Night
7.The Steel Menace (Coming Christmas)
8.There is a Storm Coming (Coming Februrary)
9.The Gang Reuinted (Coming 2013)
Character Bios (contain MAJOR spoilers- Do not read until after the latest chapter):
Spoiler:- Character Bios:
Without any further adieu, I present the first chapter of Nightfall.
Chapter 1: A Timeless Flight
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no I’m a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
John Woodward ripped the headphones out of his ears. There was no need to listen to such a depressing, nostalgic song, not when he was on a boat in the middle of the ocean, a foreign continent slowly appearing on the horizon. He and his friends had listened to the song religiously during their final year at school, thinking about what their journeys were going to be like, and if, like in the song, they would get homesick.
“Heh,” John snorted, look where that got us.
< Now what did we talk about earlier? > purred a large, pink cat sitting on his lap. She lifted her petite head, straightening our her enhanced whiskers and shaking her head, attempting in vain to get her fur to cover the scar above her red jewel.
“I’m not being negative, Violet, I’m just reminiscing!” John barked in an almost comical manner.
< We’ve been over this. No reminiscing. No talk of the past. You see that? > the Espeon motioned to the blood-red sky and pillars of smoke that appeared in the distance. The sun was just beginning to set.
“We’re here because of that. Our mission is to prevent that from happening again, whatever way we can. Too many people are suffering right now. There will be a time to grieve, but it is not now, > she pleaded with him.
Again, John nodded. He had accepted the job grudgingly, yes, but he did feel a certain aura of patriotism in doing it. It was easy enough: follow Mr. Jordan around, garner some troops, bring them to the battle lines, and then leave. Maybe meet some people, catch some Pokémon, and avoid the draft. That was the most important thing.
And maybe after that was all done, the war would be over.
“They say we should be arriving within the hour,” an adult, somewhat comforting voice explained.
It was Richard Jordan, one-time teacher and gym leader, now a mentor. The man had his hand on the boy’s shoulder, as if both to restrain him and to reassure him. The steadily appearing coastline, coupled with the smoke and the sky, made for a very eerie ambiance. The trees in Johto were half barren, the other half clad in the numerous colors of fall. It didn’t help that the temperature was also steadily decreasing.
“That’s good,” John muttered, “I can’t wait to get off this boat. I’m ready to see the region.”
Richard sighed, but agreed. He took his hand off of John’s shoulder and used it to open a Pokéball. After a brief flash of red light, a small bug Pokémon appeared perched on the man’s neck.
“Dude, I’ve been seeing that Pokémon for a week now, and I still can’t get used to how creepy it is,” John chuckled. Violet agreed.
“Well you better get used to it, Spinarak are native to Johto.” He paused and reached into his man purse, feeding the Pokémon a bit of food. It opened its mouth, revealing its venom-filled fangs, and began to eat. John cringed at the thought of those teeth biting into anything.
< And those nasty, hairy legs are pretty gross too, > Violet chimed in.
“Hey, Legs is cute!” Richard barked.
“You named it LEGS?” John cackled in laughter. Even Violet let out an uncontrollable giggle.
< You’ve had all week to think of a damn nickname and you came up with that? > The Spinarak grunted, < If I wanted a cheap nickname I would have asked junior over there, > it finished, pointing one of its green legs at John.
“I’m sorry, how old are you pal?” John asked, clenching his fists.
< Seventeen years and nine months, and that’s pretty old for a Pokémon that is usually eaten by Noctowl, > the Pokémon reasoned.
“Fair enough,” John paused, and looked at the tall man by his side. His hair was cut short and spiked. His hair, coupled with his aviator sunglasses he wore, screamed lady’s man. Just as he did when he was teacher, he wore obscene amounts of cologne, and always the best clothes: 100-dollar jeans from Abercrombie, only the finest shirts from Hollister. Since when was it possible for a guy to spend 100 dollars on jeans?
“Mr. Jordan…er, Rich, what are we doing when we get there?” John asked, his heartbeat immediately speeding up.
“We’re meeting with Professor Elm. He’s the de facto mayor of New Bark town, as the real one was murdered a few days ago. He’s going to assemble what trainers and supplies they have, so that we can call upon them to join us,” Rich explained, keeping his posture stoic at first, but relaxing it after he noticed the concerned look on John’s face.
“What if they don’t come with us?” John asked genuinely.
Rich sighed, taking his sunglasses off and looking the boy in the eyes. “Bud, they don’t really have a choice. The President of Johto has issued a mandatory draft of all able-bodied and Pokémon-equipped trainers. We can’t force anyone do anything, but their mayor or gym leader can.”
“And will their mayors or gym leaders come with us?” John asked. He really should have been informed of the command structure before he had accepted.
“In some cases yes, others no. We’ll have to see. This is militia, so that means if they choose to come with us, they are under our control. We can’t make them come though, only their local politician can. Does that make sense?” the man asked in a calm tone.
“Oh yeah, I get it. I just don’t see anyone realistically listening to a sixteen-year-old,” the boy muttered, stroking Violet’s fur.
“You’re impossible,” Richard sighed, “These times, son, are like nothing anyone has ever seen. People are desperate for a leader, and for hope. Our job, in its most basic form, is to provide that hope, and channel it into aggression.”
“I understand. Reminds me of when we learned about the militia in the Revolutionary War,” John muttered.
A faint smile appeared on his former teacher’s face, “Yeah, it’s exactly like that.”
A few hours later, the ferry had unloaded, pulling up to an abandoned, decaying dock right on the border with Kanto. The majority of the passengers had gotten off, a few military personnel heading north, some enthusiasts trying to capture Pokémon, and government officials conducting official business. They however, remained, in the bottom level of the ship, hidden in an elongated storage room.
In order to not attract attention from potential spies, John, the youngest person on board, was to be smuggled out of the ship at dusk, when the town’s curfew was to be enforced. They would make their way to Elm’s laboratory through the forest, which was only a half-mile due west of their current position. What they would do from there, and how they would garner those that they needed from the town, was a mystery to John.
Espeon, for the first time in nearly three months, was in her Pokéball, as her presence would jeopardize his cover.
“Here, throw this on,” Rich muttered, tossing him a long, brown robe.
“You’re ****ing with me right?” John laughed as he unfolded the behemoth, complete with a hood and robe, belt tied around the waste.
“Nope. I’ll be wearing one too. From far away, people will just think we’re monks from Sprout Tower,” the man said, annoyed.
John chuckled to himself trying in vain to mask his laughter. “You really think this is going to work? Rich are you high?”
“Shut up! I know what I’m doing, your Aunt Lorelei put me in charge, remember?” he snapped back, his brow pointed in anger.
Grumbling, John poked his head through the robe, adjusting the hood and the belt to make it look less ridiculous. The monstrosity was literally just a brown piece of cloth with large sleeves, a hood, and a black cincture. Rich motioned for him to pull up his hood.
He rolled his eyes and complied, flinging his hood over his head as well.
Yeah, because that didn’t look completely ridiculous.
The two walked up the stairs to the main level, taking care not to step on their robes, grabbing the rusted iron railings for dear life. Neither one of them wanted to trip and fall on the hard, concrete steps nor embarrass themselves in front of the other.
After their upstairs trek, the two walked into the kitchen as another obstacle that threaten to overcome them presented itself: freshly waxed floors. Grabbing onto whatever they could find - metal shelves full of food and utensils - they slipped and slid their way to the opposite side. When they finally reached the safety of the doormat, the two looked back on the myriad of forks, knives, and bread that was now scattered on the floor.
“I feel bad leaving it like that,” John remarked as Rich opened the door to the deck. The teacher just ignored him.
Clad in their robes, the two continued across the deck to the exit ramp, maintaining a steady pace as they disembarked onto the wharf and cut through the forest before them.
After they had entered into the forest on a thin, beaten path, Rich began talking again.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, breathing deeply, “So tranquil and quiet. Coming here… it’s something different. It’s like coming home after a long trip…”
He was right about one thing: it was beautiful. The many trees formed a colorful canopy that towered over them, housing Pokémon that whistled or called in the breeze. That same breeze knocked a red, orange, or purple leaf down every so often, each floating effortlessly to the ground below. Occasionally one would cross paths with the puff of John’s breath - the weather was cold, and the teenager took great excitement in “creating clouds.”
“I agree,” the boy said.
They continued through the forest, pausing only to ensure they did not shuffle too much through the decaying leaves on the dirt path below them. Finally, when it seemed as if they had followed an endless path in circles, a clearing began to manifest through the trees. It was their destination - a back entrance to Professor Elm’s prestigious lab.
Just a few moments more and they arrived at a bleak, unimpressive steel door in the back of the massive lab. Richard knocked, at first his gingerly, his appeal to enter barely audible at first. After being accosted by John, he knocked louder, finally getting a response. There was a stirring behind the door, and eventually a middle-aged man peaked through the cracked opening.
“Whatever it is you’re selling, no thank you,” the professor very gently said, attempting to close the door.
“Wait professor, it’s me, Richard Jordan!” Rich yelled as the door nearly closed.
“Who?” asked the professor from the black abyss between the door and frame.
“From the Sevii Islands,” Rich whispered.
John rolled his eyes, “It’s cold, can we skip the formalities and can you just let us in?”
“Hush,” Rich nudged him in the stomach, “the boy who just spoke was John. He was the boy who encountered Deoxys,” he emphasized.
“Ah yes! Give me one second while I undo this lock!” Elm said, briefly closing the door and fidgeting with the lock.
“Finally!” John yelled obnoxiously as he plowed through the door and past Elm. “Can I take this stupid thing off now?” he asked.
“There’s a changing room down the hall to the left,” Elm pointed to the first door down the white corridor.
No sooner did Elm point out the proper room, did John dash towards it, yanking the brown robe and rope off before he even got to the room.
“Eager boy, that one,” the red-haired professor said, as he briefly adjusted his glasses and fixed his lab coat. “Come, sit,” he motioned at Rich.
“Thank you sir” Rich said, plopping himself down on the grey couch. They were in a lobby type area, grey and plaid furniture configured around a sleek, glass table. The walls around them were steel, beautified only slightly by the occasional hanging picture or award.
Down the hall led to the main gathering room, from which a great volume of noise emanated. Rich guessed that was where the professor had gathered the militia.
“Lets get down to business, shall we?” the medium-sized man sat down next to him, opening a binder. Jordan nodded in approval.
“As you can see here, I have managed to gather fifty-five trainers, most of whom were stranded here or refugees when Blackthorn was nuked. The remainder are those who came of age recently but have been unable to leave due to the suspension of the Pokémon League,” he explained.
“Continue,” the former teacher said, motioning to the binder.
“I scattered the times in which I told them to come, that way, if anyone is watching, they won’t know what’s going on,” the man paused, “You should be wary of that. In this day and age, people are desperate. There are spies everywhere.”
“That’s why we waited for the cover of nightfall to come,” Rich interjected.
“Good. Now, there is one more thing,” the Professor trailed off nervously, “I won’t be going with you. My place is here, with my people. Therefore, these militia will be directly under your control.”
“I’m rather unsettled with that, I’m not going to lie,” Rich started, “but I suppose I can handle fifty or so trainers. The other major towns will have leaders that can take control of their men.”
“I hope,” he whispered, under his breath. “Shall we?” he motioned toward the hall, as the two rose, ready to face the masses.
After he relieved himself, John changed into much more practical clothes: jeans, a grey hoodie, and the Blackthorn College hat his dad gave to him. He hooked his Pokébelt around his waist - he still hadn’t gotten used to how light it had become - and pressed Violet’s Pokéball.
<Finally!> she exclaimed, <It’s so squished in there!>
“Sorry,” John said shortly, “Jordan made me…”
<Not your fault,> she winked. <What’s going on?>
“Jordan and I are here to pick up the New Bark militia,” he briefly explained, as he led them out the door and down the corridor. He was searching for something.
<Where’s here?> she paused, <and what in God’s name are you up to?> she asked incredulously.
Absentminded, John began to open up doors, unsatisfied each time with the contents of the room. “Here is Elm’s lab, where the recruits are gathered. And here…” he paused, pointing to the “No admittance” sign, “is what I’m looking for.”
The mischievous boy attempted to enter the locked room, fumbling with a paper clip to open the door, to no avail.
<Don’t hurt yourself> Violet rolled her eyes, the red jewel in between them briefly lighting up, and the door promptly swaying open.
“You couldn’t have done that before?” John moaned.
<Nah, I like to watch you squirm,> she winked.
They slowly entered the room, John first, and then Violet. For once, John had learned to be cautious of a potential alarm, as the boy took great care in turning on the lights and in minding what he touched. As the lights flickered to life, so did the interior of the room. In the middle sat a large, marble table, which looked much like an altar, on which three Pokéballs sat. The remainder of the room was full of shelves and drawers, which obviously contained a myriad of torturous, sleep-inducing documents. As they slowly trotted along the maze of filing cabinets, Violet began to realize their purpose in the room.
<You can’t steal a Pokémon, John. You’d be just like Galactic.>
“I’m not, I just want to see what the other starters look like. Maybe Elm will even give me one,” he muttered, picking up a Pokéball, bouncing it a few times, and releasing the Pokémon inside.
With a flash of light emerged a tiny blue crocodile, which for the most part looked benign. When the little beast smiled however, it displayed a sharp set of teeth. Its claws seemed a tad underdeveloped, and on the whole, the Pokémon was just a baby.
<Are you out of your ****ing mind? Do you know how much starter Pokémon cost? Especially Totodile.>
“So that’s your species, huh little guy?” John asked in a mock-baby voice, ignoring Violet.
<Please, you’re going to make me gag, > Violet muttered.
<Dile!> the Totodile smiled in agreement, but backed up as John extended his hand.
“Hey there pal, don’t be shy,” he reached in his bag, “I have a bad of Doritos, would you like one?” he asked.
<John, that creature is a baby! Are you crazy?> Violet yelled at him.
“Lighten up, have you seen its ****ing teeth? It could eat you and be fine,” John laughed, giving the Pokémon a chip. Again, Violet rolled her eyes.
<****!> the little Totodile smiled as it ate the chip.
Violet, stunned, turned towards John, who was equally stunned.
<Did it just say…?> Violet trailed off.
“****,” John cursed.
<****!> The Totodile smiled again, pointing to the chips as if it were asking for some.
Panicking, John returned the creature to its Pokéball, and grabbed Violet from off the marble table.
“We have to get out of here!” he said, dropping the Pokéball on the edge of the table, not noticing its precarious perch. The two ran out, slamming the door behind them. The slam was just enough force for the Pokéball to fall on the ground, releasing the Totodile.
The boy quickly eased his way through the crowds of people towards the center, standing triumphantly next to Jordan as if he had always been there. Despite the mean-spirited look from the man, he folded his arms, and looked around. Fifty or so trainers, from ages twelve to probably thirty stood around them, everyone nervous. As Rich and Elm continued to talk, and it was mostly talk about war, death, duty, and all of that GI Joe crap, these expressions only grew. It was here that John realized what they were doing. This wasn’t a rescue mission or a revolution or anything like that, it was a suicide trip. They were leading these men and boys towards an enemy with stronger Pokémon, better numbers, and more advanced technology. They were leading them into the wild, routes that were otherwise shut down due to civil unrest. At this point, John couldn’t help but feel a heavy, tight knot in his stomach.
<Don’t worry, we’ll get through this okay,> Violet soothed. He patted her on the head and faked a smile.
“So do you have anything to add, young man?” the old Professor asked abruptly.
Caught off guard, John’s heart began to kick into overdrive. He did have a few comments prepared, mostly to tell his story and justify his presence, but all of that was out the window now.
“Sure,” he stammered, “I’m John. I’m Rich’s assistant, and your superior. Yes, I’m young, not much older than some of you. I may only be sixteen, but I have a lot of experience in dealing with our enemy. I won’t…” he trailed off in sheer terror, as the little blue monster he had encountered early appeared in front of him.
<Up! ****!> it demanded, its hands outstretched. Frozen in fear, John slowly gave the Pokémon a chip from his bag. He lifted the beast into his arms. Totodile was uncomfortable though, and climbed onto his shoulder.
“Well I’ll be damned, that looks like one of my Pokémon,” the Professor’s face was beat red. “Explain yourself!”
“C-Certainly,” John balked, “You see I wanted to see what the other Johto starters looked like, and so I went into the room with them, and this Totodile and I, well, we bonded sir,” he explained. The rest of the room laughed.
“And why is it cursing?” a slightly less tense Elm chuckled.
“That’s an…er… long story,” John shrugged.
The Professor, much to everyone’s surprise, laughed. “Hell, I have no use for the little monster. You can keep him. Heck, I have two more Pokémon. Why don’t you take one off my hands Rich? Give the one you don’t want as a reward or something to these fine young gentlemen.”
Gleeful, John looked at his new Pokémon, perched on his shoulder, “boy do I have a nickname for you,” he said.
In a room with three dead bodies, you think there would be more of a sense of urgency. The two perpetrators, however, didn’t seem to be fazed at what they had just done. Scott Cyrus, and his superior, were ruthless.
The industrially lit room was windowless, housing a large conference table, many leather chairs, and a flat screen TV. The room was the epitome of carnage, blood everywhere, the three dead bodies strewn about, killed abruptly, some sitting, one standing.
“Congratulations ma’am, it seems that you’re in charge of the most expansive empire since the Kantoians,” Scott smiled, holstering his gun. The woman did the same.
“Get security in here to clean up this mess. And have them ready my office. I want these incompetent fools framed as the traitors who led to the failure of the Sevii Campaign,” she ordered, Scott responding right away. He called out his starter, Flareon, for company as he left the room.
Insuring that the door was shut, the woman pulled out her cell phone, placing a small red appendage into his charging dock. She dialed a number, and impatiently waited for someone to answer on the other line.
“Hannah?” she asked, this time in a much nicer and approachable voice. “How are they doing?”
A ghostly, shell shocked voice was heard in the background. “This place is pretty rough on them. Cold and death everywhere you look. We aren’t getting very many to join us either.”
“That’s alright, you guys are right outside Eterna City, right?” the woman asked, again in a fake nice voice.
“That’s right. Mike and Lindsey are searching the city right now as we speak for recruits,” Hannah explained.
“Good, very good,” the woman eerily whispered, “now remember your instructions. Keep a close eye on those two. And make sure that you get them and the militia to the spot we talked about before. I’ll be in touch,” she finished, closing the phone.
She took one last look at the last person she killed, as he lay strewn in the chair at the head of the table. He had a neat bullet wound in his head, which had spread blood down his face profusely.
“Giovanni, you’re pathetic,” she sneered, and left the room.
A few hours later
It was like a scene from a western film: a few, young men, all sitting around a dim, dying campfire, huddled close for warmth. An older, seasoned gentleman was playing soft, calm music on a harmonica, much to the pleasure of the Pokémon around him. Most of the camp was already asleep, for they knew they had a long day of traveling ahead of them. At this point, only an intimidated John, a quiet Jordan, an old man, and his presumed grandson were awake.
In John’s arms, sleeping, was his newly acquired Totodile, and by his side was a very tired Violet. It must have been nearly one o clock in the morning.
“I still can’t believe you were able to convince Elm to give you that Pokémon,” Rich chuckled.
“Hey, I was able to get you that Chikorita, and Cyndaquil, for that matter. What did you end up doing with Cyndaquil, by the way?” he asked.
“It was dinner. I made it use its fire type to cook itself.”
“I thought it was. But in all seriousness, I gave it to Anthony over there,” he explained, motioning to the old man sitting across from him. He sat on a fallen log, his brown boots matching its color. He had wrinkled skin and his hair was grey - and he had many scars. One such scar lay right under his eye, causing the whole region to be inflamed. He smiled, and tied his scraggly hair into a manly ponytail, and laid back.
“All appreciation for that, good sir,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat. “But I gave it to my grandson, Gabriel.”
“Gabe, for short,” the boy interjected. The boy was of medium frame in both height and weight, wearing a red blanket with sleeves, his blonde hair covered by a Blackthorn College cap.
“Gabe, Gabriel, same thing,” Anthony said in a thick drawl, “point is, I gave you the damn fire raccoon thing. It compliments yer other Pokémon nicely.”
“What others do you have?” John asked, timidly.
“Six others,” responded the other boy, in a fake nonchalance in order to appear cool, “Five of them are back in Unova, and my starter Pokémon, Emolga, is the only one I have with me.”
“So you’re from the new region, the one that was just incorporated?” John asked earnestly.
“Yup. Made it to the top sixteen…” he trailed off, “I lost of course. My grandfather and I made it to Johto just days before the bombs went off. We were making provisions to compete in the league when we got word of the attack. After it was determined the radiation wouldn’t make it down here, we were forced to stay in what was deemed a ‘safe zone,’” he finished.
“Deep stuff,” John paused.
“What’s your story?” Gabe asked.
“I’m from the Sevii Islands. I competed in the league there despite an explosion that took out one of our islands, and a Pokémon named Deoxys was released. I set out in a group of five…” he trailed off, “but we broke up on the shores of Seven Island. It wasn’t soon after, that the war consumed us. It broke up the league match I was in, and ended up leading to the death of two of my friends. We were the teenagers that killed Cyrus. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to end this dreadful war. And that’s why I’m here… I have unfinished business,” he finished.
Anthony, slightly taken aback, motioned for Gabe to show off his Pokémon.
“Oh right, here we are,” he said. In a red flash of light that illuminated the cloudy nighttime sky appeared an Emolga. Its underbelly and face were primarily white, save for two yellow dimples. Its back and pointed tail was black, and its yellow wings seemed to connect its petite arms together. It was overall a cute looking Pokémon, but with some obvious power.
“Very nice. Always a pleasure to see a new Pokémon.” A slightly less somber John smiled in approval.
“Yes, indeed. But if you don’t mind, I best be heading off to bed. Our fearless leader has us getting up at the crack of dawn,” Anthony gave a brief, half salute, and waddled off to his tent.
“I should go to bed too, I’m a total douche when I’m tired,” John laughed, motioning to Rich and Gabe to get up. They were all sleeping in the “control room” tent.
“Come on, Bilbo,” he whispered to his Totodile as they walked to the tent. He smiled at Violet, who trotted gingerly beside him.
“We’re finally going to get to travel again,” he said through an immeasurable grin.
<Yeah... at dawn though. Not looking forward to that.>
To be continued...