Exploring an edgy alternate reality

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September 1, 2016 9:38am

"Destiny's clock, for better or worse, will start one last time."

yes this is an edgy self insert. oh god why did I think this was a good idea

Rt:Alt is a story I had in mind for a while. Inspired by Rt:Ctrl, a story by Sparkleafexc, Rt:Alt seeks to explore an alternate reality in Route lore where nearly nothing is rainbow and sunshines.

This story is fairly gruesome by nature, but I'll do my best to keep them as tame as possible for Route 50. Some of the extra ideas I have are pretty edgy; I'll keep them out of Route 50, but I'll have external links with plenty of warnings to them.

Consider this a gore warning. It may get pretty bloody at certain points.

Table of Contents

Main Story
If I (or anyone else!) feels like it'd be fun to explore something further, for example a certain character's backstory, I'll list those chapters here.
The following symbol: <*> indicates that the link is an external source (FanFiction.net), and will contain potentially upsetting material.
Arkangelcool's story Aftershocks documents what happens to citizens while Rt:Alt ensues. Be sure to check that out, too; it provides an interesting view from the perspective of bystanders to the story. It will also have its own full plot, so it's also a standalone story, too.
"Words, words, la la la, pew twang pew!"
Art Blog | Twitter | Reborn Nuzlocke
September 1, 2016 9:39am
Character Index

An index of characters can be in this post. A modified version of the Fate classification systems will be used. It will list six core stats in Vitality, Strength, Defense, Mana, Mana Pool, and Agility. These are all ranked from E to S++. Special traits and abilities are shown below that, and are ranked from D to EX.

To clarify, S++ is the rank given to exceptionally powerful abilities. EX as a rank is reserved to abilities that ignore common confines, such as the law of thermodynamics. Pokemon teams will also be listed below.

Metatyph Tempest

Sparklein Sydir

Frosti Snow

Myste Flarrior

Maestra Flarrior

Sky Flarrior



Dark Pegusus



[NEW] Morpheus
"Words, words, la la la, pew twang pew!"
Art Blog | Twitter | Reborn Nuzlocke
September 1, 2016 9:44am
Lord and Vessel

“Tick, tock... Tick, tock.
These misaligned cogs are to be right once more.
Destiny’s clock, for better or worse...
Will start one last time.”

The bluebird abruptly stopped her aria. She felt a gaze, and soon found its source. From below the great tree she perched upon, a fox sat on the nearly nonexistent path. The fox sat still, amused, staring, questioning. The bluebird met his gaze, also questioning his intentions. They stayed still. Waiting.

The bluebird was the first to break the silence.

“Hail, mortal,” chirped she. “What brings a lone fox to these hallowed woods?”

The fox stayed silent. He waited. After a while, he whispered thus, “I come bearing the guidance of the gods.”

The bluebird smiled. It was the answer she had been looking for. The moment those words were uttered, she knew her wait was over. She jumped off the branch and glided to the ground, landing gracefully on her feet. The bluebird offered the fox a wing.

“Come, Lord Sydir, for I have long awaited your arrival,” sang the bluebird. “Take my hand. I shall be your guide through these cursed lands.”

Memento Mori

A boy, snuggled in his bed, slowly awoke from his slumber. Sunlight danced through the two sheets forming a curtain, lighting up his somewhat modest cottage. He blinked once. He blinked twice. His consciousness gathers. Finally, he is wide awake.

“It’s that dream again...” he muttered. For the past few weeks, the boy has been plagued with the same recurring dreams.

He shuffled his relatively short hair into order and sighed.

In this world, gods are not capable of directly influencing the mortal realm. Instead, they require a vessel to carry out their biddings. Metatyph Tempest was one such vessel, born within the sacred woods of Viridian Forest. As the second generation to carry the Tempest name, he was created to serve as the vessel of the gods of Tao: Zekrom, Reshiram, and Kyurem. Vessels are created in certain locations and trained by a designated private mentor, responsible for the education of knowledge and skills considered necessary. Once a vessel reaches ten years of age, they are stationed in nations allied to the gods the vessel serves, both as protection and to assist said nation with their needs.

Three raps were audible from the door. “Typh, are you awake?”

“Yeah,” answered the boy. He shuffled to get up, and sat on his bed.

Viridian Forest was declared a neutral sanctuary; there was nearly no danger or threat from both internal and external forces, and incidents are rare; hence doors to places of residence tend to be unlocked. Typh’s door creaked open slowly, and through it, a girl walked through. She carried a tray with her right hand, and with her left, she nimbly placed her straw hat on the hat rack with the precision and fluidity of years of repetition. With her headdress off, the girl’s long, blonde ponytail fell freely behind her back.

“I brought you breakfast,” said Yellow, Typh’s designated mentor. She placed the tray on the table and proceeded to sit on a seat adjacent to it.

“Thanks,” Typh stood up and walked over to the table, sitting down next to the tray. It contained a sizable bowl filled with what seemed to be mushroom cream soup. A spoon was placed neatly next to the bowl, along with a smaller plate holding some bread. Immediately, he began devouring the food.

“Did you have that dream again last night?” Asked Yellow.

Typh nodded. “It was the exact same. Everything played out just like the other times... But at least I know not to worry too much about it.”

“Correct,” said Yellow. “From what I can gather, at least, those may be the memories of your predecessor. Since you are somwhat connected to her, at least on a spiritual level, it’s not irrational to think that you inherited some of her memories.”

“It’s comforting to know that I’m not going insane. Probably.” Typh said in between bites.

His mentor gazed sideways, out towards a window. “You know, tomorrow marks your tenth birthday.”

“Uh-huh! I haven’t forgotten,” Typh exclaimed. “I hardly can. It’s an important day after all. The day I receive the gods’ powers... and the day I leave for the nation of Shioko.”

“That’s right. And because of that, there will be no lessons today.”

“Pffght!” Soup spilled back into the bowl. “What, really?!”

“Sure, sure. As cliche as this sound, I have nothing more to teach you,” Yellow swatted an invisible fly out of the air. “After all, you deserve the break. You did your best these past ten years.”

The boy swiftly chunked down the last pieces of bread, and placed the spoon in a diagonal position across the bowl. “Thank you for the food.”

“Well, at least your appetite is still there,” remarked Yellow. She took the tray with one hand and headed towards the door. Putting her hat back on with her left hand, she continued, “I have to be off to make preparations for tomorrow’s proceedings. Enjoy your break!”


“Which is great and all... But this is unexpectedly easier said than done.”

Typh had wandered around Viridian Forest aimlessly for several hours already. During that time, he realized that he really had nothing much to do to pass the time. After he changed into his white and orange vest over a shirt and long, dark pants, he made his routine rounds, visited every inhabited cottage, greeted every inhabitant of the forest. But after all that, the day refused to advance past noon.

Without thinking, he stopped at a certain location. The location he always sees in his dreams, with the fox and the bluebird, and the waiting and longing that was associated with it: Viridian Forest’s main entrance, and the great tree that looms above the beaten path. The boy’s mind wandered. He was secluded inside the forest for so long, but he did dream of the outside world. He wondered what it is like outside the protective barriers of the trees. For a moment, he felt exactly what the bluebird in his dreams felt; curiosity, no, a sense of longing for the outside world, for what lies beyond the universe he currently knows.

The day wasn’t unbearable, but it was still mildly hot. The tree’s shade felt very inviting, and Typh took upon the invitation. He sat down, under full cover of the shade. It was then that he fully appreciated his surroundings. The shade was cool, and so was the breeze. Time felt like it stopped for the longest time. Maybe he can sneak a short nap here...


As he began to wake up, Typh felt something latch onto his face and over his eyes. Behind him, a voice teasingly asked, “Guess who?”

“You’re the only one around here with hands that big, Kyria,” grunted the boy. He peeled off the Gardevoir’s palms off his face with one hand, and leaned on the other. He observed the faint outline of the horizon through lines and lines of trees; the sun had started to set.

“Hmph! It’s not like I don’t want small hands, ya know?” Huffed Kyria, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Geez, can’t you just let me rest...?” Typh leaned his head back and rested it on the tree. Kyria is Yellow’s Gardevoir. The boy wasn’t sure how his mentor met her Pokemon, but she had been by her side for as long as his memory goes.

He caught glimpse of Kyria’s bulging stomach. A sign of pregnancy; a wondrous sight despite the evil intent behind it. Memories of the past came flooding back; memories of fear. Of confusion. Of guilt. He remembered returning from a brief distraction to the very first display of malice he had seen from any of the inhabitants of Viridian Forest. He remembered running for help. He remembered, after the fact, being kept in the dark; being told, by his own mentor nonetheless, that they’ll “handle it from here”.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about it?” Whispered Kyria. She sat down next to Typh. “That day, I was tasked with protecting you. In that sense, I did a pretty good job at doing that, huh?”

“Tch. Your boob spike is annoying,” complained Typh. He regretted thinking hard about the subject with a Pokemon with the ability to read minds and sense feelings present.

“Aw, it’s sweet of you to worry about me, though!” Kyria jumped and clinged onto one of the boy’s arms. Typh swiftly reacted by dropping a firm chop on the Gardevoir’s head with his free hand.

“Ow! In what way is it okay to karate chop a pregnant lady in the head?” Pouted Kyria. She pressed on the point of impact with both palms. A few moments later, though she betrayed a grin. “But, really. Don’t worry about it. I lived a fulfilling life... I can’t ask for much more.”

“Stop right there. That’s a death flag you just triggered.”

“Heheh... Well, on a brighter note, I’m expecting the baby soon!” Exclaimed Kyria. “In three weeks time, the doctors say.”

“Woah, really? Time sure flies...” Said Typh. “At least you’ve thought of a good name, right?”

“A great name!” Kyria threw both of her arms into the air. “Are you ready? Really? You sure? Ready now? I’m naming her... Destiny!”

“I thought you’re supposed to lay off the alcohol when you’re expecting a baby.”

“Hey, that’s rude! Destiny is an amazing name,” Kyria huffed. “It’s sad that you’re not going to be here when she’s born... But at least you’ll see her when you come to visit, right?”

Typh nodded earnestly. He imagined what Viridian Forest would be like should he visit in one year’s time. What would change? What would remain the same? The thought of the future and the unknown it will bring excited him.

“Ah, that’s right!” Exclaimed Kyria. She pounded her right fist downwards into an open left palm. “Yellow wanted to see you by the central clearing.”

He stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. “Well, I think I have to go now, then.”

Kyria looked up with a mischievous smile. “Good luck out there, heheh!”

“Your boob spike is annoying,” Grunted Typh, hiding whatever sign of a blush may be present on his face.


Yellow trodded the very faint beaten path, her pupil following closely behind. She held a metal briefcase in her hand. They went through a sizable, though hidden, opening near Viridian Forest’s central clearing that Typh could’ve sworn wasn’t there before. The path started out uncannily small, but as it went deeper, the space between the rock walls widened until it was much more than comfortable to walk through.

After roughly two minutes of walking, the path opened up to reveal a large grotto. A small waterfall flowed endlessly into a tiny pond, and a small circular shrine floated slightly above the water. A small wooden path bridged the water, providing access. It provides a dim but long-reaching glow, lighting up the whole area. What seems to be multicolored crystals are spread dotted along the cave walls, reflecting the glow from the shrine for themselves.

“Woah...” Typh betrayed an audible gasp as he observed the area. His voice echoed ever so slightly over the stone walls.

Yellow held out her hands, and then proceeded to spin to face her student. She placed both hands behind her back and exclaimed, “Welcome, Metatyph Tempest... To Viridian Forest’s Hidden Grotto.”

“It’s beautiful...”

“This place is where we’ll be performing the ascension ceremony tomorrow,” explained Yellow. “I thought I’d show you this place beforehand... As well as give you some other things.”

Asked Typh, “Things... What things?”

“It’s a little early, but I got your birthday presents.” The boy’s mentor placed the metal briefcase on the ground and opened the lid. “I told you this before, but vessels from Viridian Forest are gifted custom proprietary weapons; yours arrived this morning.”

Typh looked into the case. His eyes widened with amazement at the sight of the contents. Inside is a revolver crafted with a pure white metal, with linear, flowing patterns made of amber embedded into its barrel exterior. He held the gun; it felt unnaturally large, but somehow very right at the same time.

“The core of your magic lies in ‘kinesis’, ‘manifestation’, and ‘telepathy’. This gun aim to make full use of all of them,” explained Yellow. She took the revolver from Typh's hands, unsheathed the leather covering, and rested it on her palm. “The amber carvings on these magnums are designed make the gun easily affected by your telekinesis specifically. Instead of using bullets, the rotating chambers feed off your mana to fire projectiles, which means you can change the projectile’s properties as you wish.”

“Woah... That’s neat.” Typh seized control of the gun in his hands, and it floated to his will. It was considerably draining, however, and he resorted to just handling the gun from its grip. Curious, the boy charged mana into one of the chambers and held out one hand. Under his breath, he started chanting a spell.

“Not now,” said Yellow, lowering Typh’s arm with her own. “All in due time. But right now, let’s move on to the other things.”

“There’s more?”

Yellow nodded. “Follow me.”

She walked briskly into the altar. Typh followed suit.

At the center of the shrine, an altar is present. Two nearly identical swords lie rested in their golden, decorative sheaths on a vertical stand; purple ribbons flowed seamlessly from the handle’s end onwards, folded neatly near the two weapons. Below them, an uncannily dark stone floats freely.

“Tomorrow, during the ascension ceremony, there will be a part where you evolve this Doublade,” whispered Yellow. “It’ll judge whether or not you’re worthy. Aegislash only accepting trainers it deems worthy, after all. It’s supposed to represent your ascension to a higher position.”

“But... what if it doesn’t find me worthy?” Typh asked with worry. “Wouldn’t that just be embarassing?”

“That’s virtually impossible. At the very least, it’ll respond to the Tao Trio’s power that’s been imbued within you,” explained Yellow.

She proceeded to gesture behind the altar. “I’ve got one more thing.”

Behind the altar was a small, wooden case. Yellow renoved the lid; inside are two gems and one Ultra Ball. One gem was colored like the rainbow, while the other resembled a marble. Closely inspecting the Ultra Ball revealed a Kangaskhan, sitting patiently within the sphere.

“This one isn’t part of the actual ceremony. I’ve got it myself,” explained she.

“Is this... a Mega Stone?” Typh gasped. “How did you get this?”

“I’ve got my ways,” said Yellow dismissively. “I know you haven’t been taught how to perform Mega Evolution, but I believe you can learn that yourself.”

She closed the lid and walked towards the shrine’s exit. “Mega Evolution is a powerful tool, and Kangaskhan is said to be one of the more powerful variants out there. I trust that you can make use of this.”

“Yellow... This is way too much. Thank you.” Exclaimed Typh. He followed Yellow out of the shrine.

They walked, and stopped as they reached stone. They stood still, waiting for nothing in particular. Yellow then broke the silence, “You must remember. Stay out of danger. Let the others enter combat for you. You are not suited for fighting... These weapons, these Pokemon, they are only to defend yourself.”

Typh has heard this many times. His mentor’s concern for his safety. Her constant insistence on him staying behind the action. And Typh knew why. Merely twelve months of her arrival at Shioko... Typh’s predecessor died in the line of action.

He’s heard of his predecessor’s countless exploits, however. How she was flawless and fearless. A prodigy, even. Some had even thought her completely invincible. She died very soon, but she died protecting Shioko... And she became a folk hero of sorts.

But those expectations eventually fell upon the Tempest name. As he arrives in Shioko and assumes his duties, he is expected to be all of the above.

And yet, at the same time, he is none of the above.

“Yellow... Can you please tell me more? About my predecessor,” asked Typh.

Yellow sighed. “Typh. You must remember. Cleon Tempest was the past. You are the present, and the future. Focus on what you can do; not what you want to be capable of doing.”

Typh lowered his head. He’s heard of this multiple times, too. He wants to believe those words... But it’s difficult for him to do so.

Yellow sat down on the grass, facing the shrine. She gestured for Typh to sit down next to her, and her pupil accepted the invitation.

“You know, this grotto isn’t only important because it’s a ceremonial place,” said Yellow. “I often come here to escape reality. To forget my problems. To run away from the world. It’s where I feel the happiest, and the safest. That is why, I wanted to show you this place before tomorrow, where it’d be crowded with people. I want you to experience the beauty of the Hidden Grotto to its fullest extent.”

Typh simply nodded. He agreed; the grotto held such majesty in its tranquility, such fragile grandeur in its peace.

“Typh... Make it past twelve months. Then, come and visit us. We’ll have a party for your birthday, right here,” pleaded Yellow. “Why don’t we make this your first milestone? Outlive your predecessor.”

Typh chuckled. “It’s a small step... But I think it’s better than nothing.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Yellow stood up and brushed her clothes off. “Well, it got pretty late while we were here. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off to get some rest. I’d suggest you do the same soon; tomorrow will be a long day”

Typh kept staring at the shrine as Yellow left the Hidden Grotto. That’s it, thought he. Tomorrow... That’s where I-

“Wooooow. You pussied out at the very last moment!”

“Woah?!” Shouted Typh. He swiftly pivoted to face his back, where the sound originated from. “Kyria?! What are you doing here?”

The Gardevoir ignored the question. Instead, she crossed her arms and puffed. “What’s wrong with you? The mood, the setting, everything was right!”

“Your boob spike never seems to stop being annoying,” grumbled Typh. “You’re not wrong, though... But I’ve got my own plans.”

“Hm? Well, if you say so... Just don’t come crying to me when that doesn’t happen.”

“Like hell that will.” Typh whispered. He clenched his fists.

That’s right. Tomorrow, right here, right before he leaves for Shioko...

He’ll confess his feelings to none other than his mentor.


“Young master! By Kyurem, please, awaken!”


Typh awoke abruptly from his unfinished dream to the panicked pleas. He recognized the man shaking him as the custodian in charge of his residence. Even without the man’s panicked voice and expression, he could almost taste the air, thick with fear and malice.

He knew something wasn’t right.

“Custodian? What’s the matter?”

“Sir...!” The custodian gasped for air. “We’re under attack! Viridian Forest is under attack!”

Exclaimed he, “What?! But Viridian Forest is neutral territory!”

“No-one knows what’s going on... But whoever the enemy is, they still haven’t reached here. Everyone who can fight is out there slowing them down,” explained the custodian. “Come, we must get you to safety!”

“Everyone’s fighting?” Asked Typh. He grabbed the metal suitcase with his four magnums inside. “Then I, too, must-“

“No, young master, you must not!” said the custodian sternly. “Our orders are to get you to safety, and wait for Shioko’s envoy to arrive!”

The boy clenched his fist. Reluctantly, he agreed.


He ran. Fast. Faster. Faster yet. Nothing was chasing them. The custodian, as well as two armed guards, ran near him, escorting him to wherever is safe. His revolvers bounced confidently on his hip, holstered by its brown leather sheath and secured to his waist.

Objectively speaking, the boy is in a constant state of safety.

But he does not feel safe.

Impatience built up from within him. He increased his speed ever so slightly. Within moments, he overtook his escorts.

“What are you- Argh!”

“H- hey! You- Ugh!”

The disgrunted cries forced Typh to turn backwards. Without a word, one of the guards thrusted his spear’s end towards him.

“Tsk!” The boy narrowly rolled out of the spear’s end. The second guard and his custodian lay motionless in a pool of red on the ground. He wasn’t expecting turncoats, not this soon. He didn’t recognize the guard; was it a disguised enemy?

Typh unholstered his revolver and poured mana into its chamber. Demanded he, “Who are you?!”

But he was a moment too late. The assailant pivoted in place, and thrusted the spear’s butt into his gut.

“Gah!” Typh was knocked back and crashed into a tree, winded and grounded. The assailant dashed for him.

The boy saw his gun knocked off his hands to the side. He willed it to come to him; after great effort, it flew swiftly into his hands and rested in his palm. In a panicked flurry, he charged as much mana as he could muster into the revolver's chambers. He aimed it towards the guard. Silently, he prayed that the main concept of his new weapons are at least somewhat similar to the training staves he grew accustomed to.

Kasai!” Typh yelled his mantra. The mana inside the revolver roared to life; the amber carvings on his magums glowed red. “Fire Blast!”

The loaded mana was expended all at once as soon as the trigger was pulled, unleashing a burst of flames with a thundering roar, rushing towards the guard. The assailant, however, was not faltered. He fearlessly continued his advance. With one outstretched hand, he caught the licking tongues of fire...

And the flames dissipated.

Typh had no time to be react in shock. Immediately, the guard reached his target and swung his weapon downwards. Nearly instantaneously, however, the boy’s assailant lost balance and fell flat on his visor.

“Run! Now!” The voice came from the other guard escorting him. He laid on the ground, clutching onto the assailing guard’s ankle with his right arm. He began thrusting his spear with his left hand. “NOW!”

The despair in his escort’s voice snapped Typh back to reality. He instantly holstered his revolver. He dashed away, not caring which direction he went towards. He didn’t look back; not even when the screeches of a dying man and broken wood rang in his ears.

The boy ran fast. Faster yet. Not fast enough. He wondered where he should run towards. His initial dash brought him deeper into the woods, thus his only real options lie within Viridian Forest itself. He thought of all the hidden areas. Where in Viridian Forest would be hidden enough?

He thought of a place. The Hidden Grotto. He arrived at the entrance to the cave just as he thought that. He dared not waste a moment. He dashed in. He blazed through the natural corridor. The space between the walls widened, and finally, he reached the dimly lit lake.

Typh slumped on the rough cavern floor, right in front of the cave. His thoughts collected themselves. Realization dawned upon him. How two lives were lost to preserve his, and how, inevitably, more lives would already have been lost while he was asleep, all to buy him a few precious moments. Who has died? Who still lives?

Clack. A pebble flew from the floor. It landed with an exaggerated noise.

Immediately, Typh drew and loaded his magnum. Yelled he, “Who goes there?!”

Before he could respond, however, a figure had already moved in to point blank range, ready to strike.

It was the assailant.

How did he manage to find the Hidden Grotto? Typh was sure no-one followed him in. Did he follow a trail? How is a single soldier capable of such feats?

A sharp blade was swung at him. Typh rolled to the right, but could not avoid the cold metal grazing his left arm. Dark red splurted out of the fresh wound. Pain. Pain echoed through his arm, to his head, throughout his entire body.

The assailant stiffened up. As if he knew something he did not expect was going to happen. Nimbly, he swung his spear behind in a semicircle. Three daggers clashed with the metal, flopping dangerlessly on the cavern floor. He scanned the grotto entrance, looking for any signs of an agressor. Dark. There is nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Something rough brushed against his hind thigh. The sensation was swift, but he felt it. In a panicked flurry, he twisted his head back. It was a straw hat.

The figure below the straw hat tossed five daggers at him. He parried them instantly, but they exploded in a blinding show of light on impact.


The assailant swivelled his head once more. His vision was filled entirely with a pink glow.

Soon after, it was filled with nothing more than explosions and dust.

Shouted Typh, “Kyria! Yellow!”

“Well, whaddya know? That wasn’t so bad, after all." The Gardevoir strutted away from the debris with a satisfied grin, dusting her hands as she walked.

Just as she uttered those words, however, a streak of silver cleaved from within the cloud of dust. The streak arced towards Kyria, deeply slicing Kyria’s entire torso. Deep red erupted from the open flesh. Her eyes widened, and her body fell on the ground wordlessly, lifelessly, like a pupper cut off its strings.

“Kyria!” Yellow shouted. She began rushing to her Gardevoir’s side. The assailant’s spear swirled once. It swirled twice. The dust was cleared. The weapon’s blunt end slammed into her guts, forcing her to fall on her knees.

The assailant, gripping his spear, spoke for the very first time. Exclaimed he,

“You annoy me.”

With a swift thrust, the blade entered Yellow’s chest. Metal crushed her ribcage, and pierced through her heart. She could not react, save for a pair of widened eyes and a small gasp. Blood streamed from her chest and the cracks of her lips; the blade delivering a final, fatal strike.

Typh nearly shouted. He outstreched his hand. But his eyes met those of his mentor’s. Life was quickly draining away from them, but her determination shone through. She looked into his eyes. And then glanced towards the shrine. Then back to him. Instantly, he understood what needed to be done.

He dashed towards the temple, his four magnums following him. The assailant followed, pulling out his weapon from the now defunct corpse of his victim. Typh took the Ultra Ball from the floor, threw it on the bridge, and pocketed the Mega Keystone. He then scrambled for his next target; the Dusk Stone set on the altar. He cupped his hands around the dark gem. Muttering a silent prayer, he pivoted in place, now facing the shrine’s entrance. Yelled he, “Great swords of royalty... Lend me thine strength!”

The Doublade abruptly opened its eyes. It flew to the defense of the boy from both of his sides, clashing with an arcing spear blade. As the assailant returned for a second strike, the Dusk Stone glowed with a light that engulfed the Doublade. Once it dissipated, a shield appeared in its place, negating the assailant’s attack and pushing him back.

The Doublade has evolved.

Moments are not a luxury Typh can afford to spare. This shrine is where the powers of certain gods are most concentrated in the real world. It is the reason the ascension ceremony is held in this spot.

And here, right now, he will attempt to become a vessel.

The ceremonial instruments were not present; the shrine maidens, slaughtered. However, he chanted his vow. He whispered his prayers. From the wound on his arm, he dripped several droplets of blood onto the altar.

The assailant wasn’t keen on letting this go on, however. The Aegislash kept him busy for a good amount of time, but he saw an opening, and flung the shield away.

He rushed at Typh, only to find himself turning his head behind once more. He felt an overwhelming presence, one he could not ignore. Yet as he glanced back, he only saw a Kangaskhan’s monstrous brown fist flying towards his face. The impact rendered him shocked, and he was forced to drop his weapon. It was all the time Typh needed.

A beam of energy rushed through the temple, through the cave, and seemingly farther through. He felt power flow through his whole body. Three different sources of mana forced its way into him. Elements of lightning, ice, and fire flowed directly into his veins. A singular voice whispered into his ear; he knew not what it said. But as the voice faded, he was left embracing his newfound power.

The mana surging through his body was immense. It felt overwhelming. It felt heavy. But he endured it. He loaded a single magnum’s barrel with mana. The trigger was pulled. Wordlessly. Silently. The resulting spell was incoherent and without form. The mana that powered it was dead. But the sheer force of the projectile itself was powerful beyond comprehesion. The assailant attempted to stop the projectile with his arm once more.

The projectile, however, pierced him from palm to shoulder.

The assailant's features twisted from confusion into pure fear. He backed off, eyes trained at the boy's weapon. This is not a power he can challenge. Carrying his limp arm, he ran off.

The weight immediately left Typh’s shoulders. He rushed to his mentor and her Gardevoir. He placed two fingers on Yellow’s neck, where the veins are. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Something warm dripped from his eyes, streaming through his cheek. His face contorted. Sobs started forming, uninvited, uncontrollably.

“Didn’t I tell you... Not to come... Crying to me... When it doesn’t happen...?”

Typh immediately turned his head towards the source of the voice. Kyria was panting heavily, her bulging stomach moving up and down as she exhaled. Blood steadily drained from the wound, practically slicing her whole body in half.

“Kyria... You’re alive...!” He rushed to the Gardevoir’s side. “Stop talking... I’ll... I’ll get some help...”

“Not the best... time to joke... huh...” She chuckled weakly. “It’s good to know, though... That you care...”

“P- Please... Stop talking...”

“Remember, Typh...” Wheezed Kyria. “Remember those who have... Fallen here. For... your Sake. Remember... Why we lived... And why we died.”

She slowly pointed a finger at the boy. The finger shook violently; its owner’s eyes slowly drooped, but her face kept smiling.

“Viridian Forest... Fell... To keep you alive. So you... Instead... Must live on...” She growled fiercely. Her finger started to falter, along with her voice. “Live... Find out who... Did this... And... End...”

With those words, her body fell limp. Typh caught the pointing hand; it felt cold. It felt lifeless.

The Kangaskhan and Aegislash moved to the boy’s side; the former gently placed a paw on his shoulder. He took solace in the fact that he wasn’t truly alone; that these two Pokemon are by his side, even though everyone else has left him.

But the tears would not stop. The sobs did not cease.

No matter the facts, he felt alone. He felt abandoned. He felt sad. He felt angry.

He heard a cry. A very faint, very soft cry. The boy, still despaired, attempted to pinpoint the source. Then he saw it: a small hand, doing its best to claw out of Kyria’s stomach. It was covered in crimson, and the wound was not wide enough to let the body through smoothly, but it kept struggling. Eventually, it made it out of the bulge.

A Ralts was born. She came to this world, from the corpse of her parent, covered in the blood of her mother. From the carnage, Destiny was born.

Typh took the Ralts. She felt cold, just like the body she came from. He cradled the newborn in his arms. Kyria was right. Viridian Forest fell to preserve their lives. He- no, they will live on, in place of all who fell for them. They will find the driving force behind the attack, and when they do...

They will end them.

How long has it been since? Minutes? Hours? A day? Typh sat still, cradling the baby Pokemon, surrounded by two unclear allies and the corpses of the people he cared for. He had no way to tell the passing of time in the enclosed cave, and he could not care any less.

A figure approached from the darkness of the grotto’s corridor. Kangaskhan and Aegislash moved closer to and in front of Typh, but the figure moved through, ignoring them.

The figure was humanoid, yet had all the features of a fox. He had fur instead of skin, and a snout instead of a nose. A tall lance rested on his back, supported by a leather strap that ran through his torso.

The figure knelt in front of Typh, getting into eye level. He waited for a moment, his gaze curious. Asked he, “Are you Tempest?”

Typh waited. He waited in silence, questioning. Eventually, he nodded.

The fox smiled. Said he, ”Greetings, Tempest. I am Sparklein Sydir, envoy of Shioko. I come bearing the guidance of the gods.”
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Art Blog | Twitter | Reborn Nuzlocke
November 8, 2016 3:28pm
In a world of war and conflict, an extermination throws the last great bastion of peace into aggression. In the midst of this, a child sorcerer seeks justice for his fallen home. A repentant assassin and a messenger of the future rush to save their last refuge from destruction. The dead return, backed by a forgotten god. Ideals clash. Morals crumble. And it will not end until one half of the world stands in the ashes of the other.
November 19, 2016 5:23am
In a world of war and conflict, an extermination throws the last great bastion of peace into aggression. In the midst of this, a child sorcerer seeks justice for his fallen home. A repentant assassin and a messenger of the future rush to save their last refuge from destruction. The dead return, backed by a forgotten god. Ideals clash. Morals crumble. And it will not end until one half of the world stands in the ashes of the other.
February 26, 2017 3:38pm
In a world of war and conflict, an extermination throws the last great bastion of peace into aggression. In the midst of this, a child sorcerer seeks justice for his fallen home. A repentant assassin and a messenger of the future rush to save their last refuge from destruction. The dead return, backed by a forgotten god. Ideals clash. Morals crumble. And it will not end until one half of the world stands in the ashes of the other.

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