Darkness within the Souls

"I hate this tie," he grumbled, audibly struggling with the man-made monstrosity. "I swear... I'm going to... kill the maker of these some-GAH!" His words slurred into gagging noises as he accidentally tightened the tie into a knot around his neck.

His name was Matthew Gigi, renowned author and real estate agent. The two jobs earned more than enough for him and his wife, and with five best selling books of which two had two movies been made out of them that grossed an estimate of two hundred million dollars. He was always critical when it came to film, constantly he would be at the studio with the director and an occasional visit from his wife. He had already signed a contract for the third. Matthew was usually very private about his work, life and children. His life never really consisted of much scandal, only one where someone had been foolish enough to try and rip off his book. Tonight would only be to please his wife and indulge in the eye candy that was now before him.

"And you don't believe in karma," she giggled next to him, reaching out with gentle hands to expertly loosen and perfect the tie in a comfortable position. She nodded with a smile, and he sighed in relief.

"Wah! Well, that's... I mean, why do we have to attend this party anyway?!" He made a face while adjusting his shirt cuffs, and she abruptly sat in his lap. He looked at her seriously, something he hadn't done since they left the house, and realized again why he fell in love with her. She was wearing a dark red satin gown with a black lace shawl that hung over shoulders, and looked absolutely gorgeous.

"It's for your book, silly, and can you honestly tell me that you don't enjoy at least one of us dressing up? Hmmm?" She smiled devilishly with her cherry red lips and her long raven hair draped around their faces, her features richly complimenting her peach complexion. She was his ever faithful wife, brimming with happiness at the eye of the media and most especially at home. Micaela B. Gigi was well accomplished herself, even without the help of her husband. She excelled at many things, mainly her passion for art and her own jewelry line.

Mica was less in the media then her husband, although she was a definite a favorite of the press. Her work would often feature in any of her husbands film and other successful films that gained her fast recognition and quite a reputation. Very seldom would anyone see her without a smile, and it had been known that the couple was friends with an established video game developer and a CEO of a graphic design company. Although her and her husband's relations with other people were always kept private. She is also the mother of two sons, Eugene who likes to be called Gene and Andrew. Gene focused on gaming technology and design, while his brother, Andrew was a pianist. And tonight, she would enjoy the company of her husband a buffet with a collection of exotic and assorted sweets and pastries.

He blinked his dark brown eyes, ran a hand through his short jet black hair, and color completely drained from his face at the realization that she was correct. "You're right... on both accounts, of course, but... BUT! Hey, you yawned." He stared at her blankly, and she giggled nervously. "Well, I guess some things never change," he offered a lopsided grin that caused her to nod sheepishly, and then the driver announced that they reached their destination.

"Damn, I can hear their applause from in here..." He leaned forward as she scooted out of his lap and looked out of the tinted window.

"So many flashes already..." She went starry-eyed as the driver got out of the car and went to open their door.

"Oh yeah, almost looks all sparkly! You love sparkles, huh?" She nodded excitedly as he wrapped his arm around her, and they stepped out of the car while the driver held the door open. The crowds of people gathered at the front entrance cheered when they came into view, and the media swarmed them, but no one could ever fathom what was about to happen.

"GUN!" Someone screamed before a hail of bullets shot through the crowd and the media. Blood splattered on everybody else, and people ran as they were cut down by the spray of gunfire. Two masked men cloaked in black garb appeared from one of the alleyways behind a crowd of people and pierced through the corpses they made. Matt threw himself in front of Mica as one of the gunmen raised his assault rifle to fire across the car and his targets, the spray riddling Matt full of lead. He coughed blood while in shock, his vision dying as his body fell slowly to the ground, a stunned Mica wrapping her arms around him and falling to her knees behind him.

Nothing could catch her attention except the blood liquid now flowing on her dress, the sight of his weakened body leaving her utterly stunned and breathless. "Matthew?" She muttered hopefully, desperately while holding on to him tightly. "Matthew..." Her voice cracked amidst the soundless screams and the panic of people. Although she was overwhelmed with fear as the gunmen drew nearer, the larger part of her refused to unhand her husband. "Matthew, please wake up.. we have to run.."

"Mi...caela... I... I don't think... I'll be... able to..." He fell back against her as his eyes drifted shut, his words fading into a barely heard "I love you". One gunman stalked closer towards them as the other gunned down the spectators, and when he was standing over them, he pressed the barrel of the rifle against Mica's forehead. "I... I love you, Matthew..." She whispered while lowering her gaze from the gunman, hugging her husband tightly before a gunshot followed by searing pain blackened her world.

Work, work, work, work were the only thoughts that ran through Blake's head as he diligently wrote another line of code. It was 5 am, and he'd been working since 7 am the previous day. His eyelids hung heavy, but through sheer willpower, he kept his eyes open. With that line of code, he completed yet another aspect of his soon-to-be revolutionary game.

He could imagine it now, his game would hit the markets and all copies would be bought up the same day. Maybe his preorders would fill his entire stock and they'd have to produce even more games. The very thought made him giddy, and he smiled a weary smile. He loved his job, but the staying up late and eating nothing but food that was disgustingly unhealthy was a disadvantage to being so passionate about his work. But this was his last night. His last night before the game could be released. It wouldn't be, for at least a week or two after, so they could test and debug it, but he didn't figure that would take long since he does his work so precisely.

With the thought of food in mind, he grabbed another handful of chips and chomped them, then grabbed one of the open sodas on his desk and took a chug. He set it back down near the double-sided nameplate that unprofessionally read "Flakey". It was just another thing around his office that reminded him why he went into the business in the first place. He was famous enough to be recognized without a plate or tag, and wouldn't have to worry about people forgetting his name. Blake thought of his long-term friend and smiled. "Wonder what they're up to, these days."

He took the game's script in hand and read through it again, then sighed happily. It was just as he wanted it. The hero wasn't too cheesy, or too unrealistic. He was perfect. More than a million video games on the market, and mine is going to be the smash hit.

The thought echoed in his head, and he laughed to himself. He felt weak and dejected, very much due to his horrible diet of fast food and junk food, inhuman work hours, and nearly no sleep at all. He looked away from his screen for a moment and looked for something else to occupy him while his body ached away. The walls of his office seemed to close in on him.

In the darkness, he recognized several of his Legend of Zelda posters that were stuck to the wall, most featuring Link and his various companions that he had helped design and create. The others were anime posters from the anime he enjoyed when he was younger. Among them was Trigun, Code Geass, Cowboy Bebop, Gantz, and YuYu Hakusho. He wouldn't ever forget his roots, because that's what drove him to make so many games. To give others that wonderful feeling of playing a game or watching an animation cycle they wouldn't ever forget.

He ran his own successful independent company, but Nintendo would call him in for every big project. His new game would support and help bring a fanbase to the new Super Immersion Machine, SIM, where your entire body controls the gameplay. The entire suit was lightweight, comfortable, and waterproof. It also had great insulation so that it wouldn't be a pain to wear on hot days. A helmet came with it, with a screen wired in so you see the world through your eyes, and not just on a screen. The biggest problem came from limited mobility in tight spaces. He looked back to his computer, his eyes running across the screen.

"Gotta get more code done.." he muttered, and went back to writing. His chest ached more than ever. It had for a while, and it made his head throb in pain. He pushed on, generating line after line of code, every digit of binary equating to a piece of his heart. A heart that was throbbing violently now, robbing him of his breath for a moment. "Damnit," he cursed, and typed it down faster, referring back to his notes every so often.

He was almost done. Almost done with almost a years worth of work. He had only about a minutes worth of work left, but every bit of the code was vital. And then he'd take that vacation he'd been wanting. The pain splintered through his chest and his breath was lost again. His typing quickened and his body started going numb. He was warned that he might have a heart attack with his diet. He wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard it, either.

He couldn't stop now, though. Not with his creation so close to being born. At his fingertips was the means of making a couple hundred million people laugh, cry, and smile. With the pressure on Blake's chest growing heavier and heavier, his heart struggling to pump his blood, he pressed on. He closed his eyes and tried to repress the pain, and opened them back up. Almost done.. a few lines left..

His final lines were the most vital, and just in time, he finished them. Just as he hit save, he lost his breath completely. He reached a numb and almost limp arm out for the phone. As he grabbed the phone, his vision blurred and he hit the ground, the phone hitting the ground with him. His entire body was heavy, and he coughed up a spat of blood before lifting his arm and hitting the numbers. The voice on the phone spoke immediately. "Hello? Blake? I saw the caller ID. It's late as hell, what's up?" The rest of his breath left him and he only managed to let out a few last words. "The game... is.. done." And then, darkness.

The red-orange sky grew dim as the sun began to set signaling another day had passed. Jeremy sat at his desk staring at the sky thinking about the day’s work and was satisfied. He spun around in his office chair to face forward from behind his desk. The desk was in the middle of his spacious office with a large window placed upon the wall behind him accented with dark blue drapes. Out of his top story window he could see the entire city of New York and its beauty as the sun danced across the windows of the skyscrapers and buildings as it reached its destination on the other side of the world.

Jeremy sat smiling at himself beaming at the painting that had just been hung up not five hours ago. It was the classic original painting of the one and only Vincent Van Gogh; Starry Night. It had taken him several years to obtain this piece and he had finally done it, he had situated it in the center of the wall directly across from him underneath a glass sealed lid that was nailed to the wall along with several locks and chains making it almost impossible to be removed without a key or a hand print. On either side of the painting were digital pictures created either by Jeremy himself or by his workers that worked for him in his company.

Being a CEO of a graphic design company he had self-pride in having the latest technology in the art field allowing him to create beautiful pieces of art that the world could enjoy, along with creating advertisements or murals to be printed and hung for many different occasions. Despite his love for the digital field he still had a special spot in his heart for the more traditional works that had been born before the digital field had ever existed, therefore he had a special room in his work building dedicated to the most prized possessions of traditional works ever known to man. From the works of the most famous artists of the world to the works of the infamous street artists that he thoroughly enjoyed you could find it in that single room.

Something had caused Jeremy to take his mind away from the painting and look down at the several computer screens sitting on his desk. He moved his art tablet aside and grabbed his keyboard to tap a few keys and pull up a new window on the computer screen. It was the security camera video stream coming from the traditional art room. The red light in the video was flashing and the speakers were emanating a loud and clear alarm. A burglar had breached security. Jeremy smiled and pushed a button on the intercom sitting at the corner of his desk.

“I need security in room TA-001 ASAP.” The light on the intercom clicked off as he went back to searching the many screens of video feed for the culprit. “Where are you…” He clicked different screens on and off pulling up four at once and then switching again. “No!” He bolted up in his chair shocked at one of the video feeds that had just turned black. Without even seeing who was doing it his feeds were going black one by one. Someone who was skilled enough had broken into his high security room and destroyed several of his well hidden cameras; this was not a typical thief. He moved his mouse over to the second desktop on his right and pulled up the security programs activating the motion sensitive stun lasers and barricading the two entrances. He turned his attention back to the video feeds to see that there was now only two left that the thief had not yet destroyed. It showed his security men carrying stun guns of their own wearing the laser resistant suits provided for their safety.

He turned to a screen to his left and pulled up another security program that allowed him to lock down the paintings and turn down the temperature of the room to near death freezing. He had hoped he would never use it but if there was a time it was now. He sat watching the screen hesitantly not knowing what to do. Then one by one he was forced to watch his own men fall to the floor. The shock of this site caused adrenaline to pulse into his body reaching for his keyboard again he typed in master control’s password and locked the entire building down even his own doorway. So that no one could get in and no one could get out. What the heck was going on here? Then the last of what he thought was his men turned to look directly into the camera.

“If you think you are safe up there you are entirely misinformed. By now you have been too late and my own men have already snuck into your office. We are not after these mediocre paintings of yours in this room, but in fact something more precious to you than you would know.” With that threat the man walked out of the screen and became invisible to the cameras.

Jeremy tried to fathom at what just happened, unsure of whether to call it a hoax or to take it seriously. Whether out of paranoia he did not know but he pulled out a remote from his desk and pressed the four digit code allowing him to take full control of the stun lasers situated in the corners of his ceiling.

“Who’s there?” A small shuffle of feet could be heard across his room. He looked around in frantic panic but could find no body or feet. A firm grasp had taken hold of his left wrist causing him to drop the remote and the lasers to shoot at random. The blasts hit several paintings on the walls and the next thing he knew he had his face planted into the top of his desk with his left hand bent against his back causing searing pain to pulse in his body. A voice spoke in a soft low voice right next to his ear.

“You are too late. We have come to take what is most precious.” This voice was different from the one in the video feed. It had a heavy Japanese accent that he recognized almost instantly.

He had been doing business across the seas in Japan when he came across a painting that he absolutely loved. He had to have it but the museum would not sell it to him no matter how much money he offered them, so he sought out a different way to claim it. A man who had heard of his want had approached him a week later claiming that he was the original owner of the painting. His name ID and age had matched up so Jeremy decided to trust the man, something he should have never done. He paid the man and a month later back in his business building the painting had finally arrived. In Japan however, there was chaos across the news as the painting was claimed stolen but this news had never reached Jeremy back in America.

“You stole what was rightfully ours so we have come to return you the favor.” The voice was the same as the faux owner of the painting.

“You said it was yours, you two timing scum!” Jeremy spoke in a rather harsh tone only to be gifted a blow to the head.
“Do not talk to our master that way! You are dealing with the Yakuza and you better remember it!” An unfamiliar voice that carried the same accent as the owner was heard directly in front of Jeremy.

“It is alright Akihiro he will receive what is his eventually.” The owner brought Jeremy’s face to face his and smiled a smile that was filled with evil intent and the utmost terror. Chains were placed upon Jeremy’s wrists and he was gagged and chained to the chair. The owner pulled out a small unusual dagger. The hilt was in the shape of a dragon that had tremendous detail inlaid, however the blade was not a straight blade it was winding such as a dragons tail. He took it and placed the cold blade against Jeremy’s arm. Searing pain flowed once more through Jeremy’s body as the blade pierced his delicate skin. He tried to yell but found that he had lost his voice, the owner gave a smirk and turned to Jeremy’s computers and turned off just his office door.

“By the time they find you, there will be nothing left.” The owner turned and walked away out the door followed by Akihiro. Jeremy could not understand what this had meant, the words seemed foggy to him and he could not comprehend the meanings. Why was it that all they did was cut him with a dagger? That alone could not possibly kill him…And then it hit him. Poison.

There was something very bright and when she opened her eyes it felt like she was awakening from a long sleep. As her eyes fluttered open to see the space, with the glowing stars and the endless walls of black. In a way it was breath taking to witness sight of space, although the peaceful sightseeing was to be interrupted as she found herself moving. The wretched memories were etched in to her mind while her unease grew as the mysterious wind led her somewhere deeper in the universe. She would have thought that it was a portal in mid air, but no one could be sure if the universe had any ground or floor to stand on. None the less, the dark gray sphere that she was now floating towards was going to eat her up. A ball of fear crept into her heart as the light from the portal engulfed her.

When she opened her eyes to see once more, there was no longer darkness yet it was also not pure light. Mica's head turned to face down to have a glance at her hands in case there was anything weird, but she saw nothing. "What?" Her voice almost echoed as she turned around again to examine the area. There was ground but it was in a marble pattern with different other shades of the same color. A wave of confusion began to well up her mind, because her lack of limbs was getting very uncomfortable.

"Come."

A deep male voice spoke but the owner was nowhere to be found until she took the time to look straight ahead. The same wind carried her closer but stopped half way through. Two sets of mirrors appeared in front of her while she sighed eagerly to have a look at herself. Although the sight was not something she was prepared to see but it wasn't horrible. "What am...” Slowly, on her own she began floating nearer the mirrors. "I?" Struggling to find the words to question her appearance, which was a glowing rose red colored ball with a face.

"You are you."

The same voice spoke which chilled her heart, it was striking as it was intimidating. But what could he mean? If she wanted to think logically, this could be heaven. Or hell. Although neither places seemed to fit the description of this area. Upon her hunting for memories to hopefully make sense of it all, she remembered one. Matthew, oh her dear husband. More emotions began to mix in her heart while the most dominant one was worry. "I-I have a husband, do you kn-"

"Hush."

She kept her silence for a few more minutes before attempting to speak again, scared at the memory of the massacre and so much blood. "But I must know!"

"He will come soon."

Darkness.

"Man fears the darkness, and so he scrapes away at the edges of it with fire". I remember the words so clearly, but not who it quoted, or if it even belonged to anyone else. What was once a childlike fascination now rings true for my very existence, if you can even call it existing; I feel as if I am drifting through time and space, but time does not march forward, and space is seemingly a vast expanse of nothingness. Yes... darkness surrounds me now, and though I scrape away at the edges of it with the fire of my will, I feel that once roaring flame flickering into a mere wavering ember...

Emptiness.

How many seconds has it been? How many seconds have turned to minutes? How many minutes have dragged on to hours? How many hours have transformed into days? And how many days have multiplied into years? I yield no answers to these questions, and yet... time does appear to be at an infinite standstill. Is this the heaven that believers sought, or the hell that naysayers feared? Or... or is it the abyss for those who are beyond redemption? Micaela... the darkness is so thick that I can not see your face, and the sound is so deafening that your voice escapes me...

[3rr0|2]

Who am I? I don't... I know that I had a life before this, but what did it consist of? Was I... was I a writer? Was that it? Mica... Micaela, a name that means so much... a person that I could never forget. I'll cling to you, Mica... cling to your memory, and use our love as a sword to carve through this darkness...!

Light.

I see it. But I think I've always seen it. It's so far off in the distance, but I will reach it, I will claim it as my own! I push towards the light, reaching out as the small sphere grows ever larger... and then... this feeling! This hope! Consuming...!

He transcended time and space, a soul bent on survival, and a soul who was ultimately given a second chance. Propelled by an unknown force, he crashed against and pierced through the barrier between worlds, cascading throughout a strange new universe filled with despair. He fell until the stars blinked out and the black sky shattered into pieces, exposing a blinding light that swallowed him completely.

The same light appeared over Micaela's soul and the mysterious male figure, strands of energy weaving together what appeared to be a portal in the sky. The figure beckoned with his right hand, and the portal coincidentally shot out a ball of purple light. The portal vanished immediately after this process, and as the purple sphere floated slowly to the marble ground, Micaela found that the sphere possessed a face similar to her new form.

"He has arrived."

The indigo-colored soul blinked twice, staring in shock at the rose-colored soul. Matthew's eyes went wide and his indigo form glowed brighter as if he already knew the answer to his next question.

"Micaela...? Lovey, is that you?"

At the very moment the voice reached her ears, she promptly forgot how to breathe. While she may not have possessed a physical body, it was not impossible to feel her legs weaken and the warm wave of relief. She turned back to face him already expecting to see an indigo shine emanating from his own ball-form. Caught up in her own little world of relief and happiness although a part of her worried for her children. Not that they were kids anymore but they were still her babies. Never had she thought that she would even have any kids, but it happened and while it was trying at best, it was worth it.

Although Mica remembered their death rather clearly, at least he would not have to know much about it. It was mostly chaos, but by the time the man had pointed his gun to her, a lot of other people had been shot as well. But she would not focus on that at the moment, at such grim thoughts when there was a very happy fact in front of her. They were still together, even she may never get used to living as a sphere of light.

"Matthew?" Softly, she called out to him meekly. Almost shy at her own voice and a little embarrassed at her appearance while taking another glance at him, Mica noted that he looked rather cute as well.

Darkness was all that could be found for miles and miles around. No sign of life or any object in general could be seen with the naked eye. It was as if the world had suddenly been enclosed and no light was able to shine through the surrounding area. Blind. It was the first thought that had come to Jeremy’s mind. An aching pain surged from his head down through his toes and then subsided just as quickly as it had come. The image of a dagger flashed in his mind as he recalled the events that had just taken place. The dagger had been poisoned, his life works was now at the hands of the Yakuza and his company was soiled. He longed to be back in his office to be admiring the works of men that had been collected over time, but that was all over now. He had nowhere to turn but forward if there even was a forward.

Was this a symptom of the poison? Maybe he had not completely gone yet, maybe it was just his eyesight. No, it couldn’t be the feeling in his body had gone and he felt as if the only thing left of him was his head. The feeling in Jeremy’s legs, arms, and basically his entire body had long since left him.

“Augh!” Jeremy grunted at the pain of the light that had spontaneously appeared in the midst of the darkness. His eyes that were so used to the darkness had never anticipated light entering in the pupils, causing them to burn. He shut his eyes tightly wishing for the light to fade. The pain slowly left him as his eyes began to adjust. He could just make out something similar to a round orb of light in the distance. “What is that?” He mumbled to himself trying to get a closer look. Then something took hold of Jeremy, with a sensation as if he was being pushed in the back of the head, he lunged forward towards the light. “This is it…” He thought to himself. This was the moment where he would move on to the next world and find his judgment. Was he to be given another life or was he destined to live as an animal only to have his will stripped away from him. Rebirth, it was a complex thought that always intrigued him and now he was finally going to experience it himself.

He drifted into the clearing of light only to find the scenery a dull grey color. He floated past a wall next to him to find that he had taken the shape of a floating orb that gave a navy blue glow. “What…am I?!” He tried to jump back a little but found that he had lost that ability when he lost his body. The force continued to edge him forward towards a landing where a miserly old mad stood. He was wearing a hooded cloak which covered his face in a slight shadow, and he carried a wooden staff of the ancient days which had many carvings that Jeremy did not recognize. His beard fell to just around his chest and glistened with a white shine. In front of him were two shining orbs that were just like him, one red and one purple. He came to a halt next to the red one as the old man spoke as if inside his mind.

“Welcome third traveler.” Perplexed at his voice he glanced around to see both the other two were just as confused as he was.

Death, just like that? he thought to himself. The sensation of being completely empty and at the same time, fulfilled, was a strange one. His hate, fear, and anger no longer inspired that constant pain in his stomach. In fact, he didn't HAVE a stomach anymore. He tried to move his arms, but that was fruitless, due to the lack of the limbs needed to fit the action.

Abruptly, a sweet tune started playing, taking him by surprise. It was the sound of a piano, playing a small, simple tune. Blake's eyes widened as the song progressed, gaining more momentum, a steady flow of music emanating from all around him. Text appeared in front of him, and a mix of overwhelming shock and horror flooded his very essence.


The game over screen to... The Legend of Zelda? The tune, too! The sweet, gentle, soothing piano echoed into the nothingness that was his home. Blake attempted to assess his surroundings some more, but other than the words floating in front of him, there was nothing. He had always loved writing, so maybe he could create his own world here. He already felt comfortable. This was his home that granted him freedom of pain. His godless, desolate, comfortable home.

The time that passed him by meant nothing. He just kept his mind focused on his fantasy world. He delved deeper into his own consciousness and played several of the games he had made before his death. He knew every possibility, what every 'random battle' would be due to the ease of calculating the odds. He played through every game he had ever known in his life, because in this form, he remembered everything. He remembered the Legend of Zelda reference in Final Fantasy 1, he remembered learning how to create the games he loved, he remembered remaking Ocarina of Time for Nintendo's SIM console, and he remembered playing it.

He was happy he had chosen the profession he did. With all this time to think, he could recreate these worlds completely inside his head. He had all the time he wanted to develop and perfect these games. Now if only there was a way to port them back out of here...

He thought of home. He wondered if they had found his body yet. I suspect they'd call them and tell them first. That's what they were instructed to do.. And he started thinking about his friends and how much he missed them. Then he felt it. True sorrow. The kind of sick pain that burns at you until you're a disheveled heap of what you once were. Normally, his body acted as an outlet for any emotion. His stomach hurt so his mind didn't have to. He could cry and release the stress, though he didn't like to. But now, there was no release.

The pain hit him all at once. The thought that his end would hurt those he cared for made him feel guilty for ever being alive in the first place. His world was now darkness. No Mica, no Matthew, no Herms, no anyone. The solitary life was always a wonderful thought. To be away from everything and work on games. But not even he could isolate himself from them.

Maybe there's a way out of this.. Maybe I can.. can... He turned towards the text and at his very loudest, he let his soul scream. CONTINUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Nothing. His null heart sunk in his non-existent chest. So there really is no way out of h- His thoughts were interrupted by a horrifically bright yellow light shining from in front of the text, blocking all out. The music stopped, and all that could be heard was the odd ring that the light gave off. High pitched and sharp. "The.. Triforce?" And instantly, his soul was sucked into the shining light.

And just like that, the light was gone. The ringing was no more. "And now we welcome the fourth and final guest."

What. the. fuck.

Mica would have prodded for more questions although she did not have a doubt in her heart that the indigo colored sphere was her husband, Matthew. The way his soul glowed with a certain intensity like he burned with sharp violent flames. Her eyes drifted towards the other two present glowing spheres.

From a small distance, she studied them and how they glowed. She remembered her reflection on the mirrors, the way her own aura glowed in elegant flames, in slow fluid motions. Returning her attention first to the darker and nearer sphere, which glowed a navy. The core had a lighter shade while the glow grew darker and softer, which looked like softer glow, not quite like flames but like a ball of water. At that point she was reluctantly to believe at her first guess but no other names had come across her head. Upon high suspicious of the navy sphere, her eyes darted towards the lighter blue one. It was mostly a pure shade of blue, as the aura appeared to be in erratic electrical sparks that encircled the sphere. Some how the expression on his face told a lot about him.

"Haha.." Nervously, she laughed in pure disbelief. What the bloody hell was going on?

Micaela was thinking it, but Matthew voiced the conclusion that they both feared.

He turned towards the sphere of pure blue light, and while he wasn't surprised at all that Blake - if it was indeed Blake - was dead, he was still sad that his friend had died. "Flakey... is that really you?" Of course it was Flakey, his mind screamed. Who else could it be? That glow radiating from his soul, that look on his face, and what would have been his hilarious materialization if the circumstances were just a little more joyous. It had to be his best friend of the old world.

[color=indigo]"And..."[/purple] He faced the navy blue sphere with a look of disbelief. "Herms...?" His mouth fell agape, and he was definitely left speechless at the idea. Jeremy was always a good person, and what Matthew considered to be an unstoppable force. And that's why he found his apparent death to be the most shocking.

"It is as you have perceived," the figure spoke in an indescribable tone that seemed to command the very fabric of space surrounding him. It held no gender-specific ring, held no recognizable timbre, and even possessed no outstanding qualities... but it was somehow mind-blowing, as if his mere presence defied nature. "Micaela, Matthew, Jeremy, and Blake... you have been chosen to free the peoples of this universe from the darkness that threatens to consume life. You four whose souls shone the brightest, you four whose fates are intangibly intertwined..." The old man paused briefly while striking the ground with his staff. Four narrow paths stretched outwards from the end of the cliff behind him, and four pedestals rose from the narrow strips of land. The first pedestal was red, the second was purple, the third was navy, and the fourth was a clear blue.

"I hold the answers you seek, but only should you go forth and embrace your new path. Let me assure you that this is not a dream, a joke, or anything of the sort; this is a very real and harsh reality that will dash you into oblivion if taken lightly. I can offer you a second chance, but only if you sacrifice your free will to become saviors for the people in this universe, a universe unlike anything you have ever seen in the world you called Earth. If you embrace this new path, you will be forced to travel between worlds, fight evil, and vanquish the darkness that your world has wrought in this realm. Do you understand, warriors of light? Proceed to the pedestal that resonates with your soul - that is to say, the one that glows with your same color, and seize the instrument of power floating at its peak. Do this and you shall secure your second chance. Do this and you will continue to exist."

The old man struck the ground with his staff once more, and a black hole appeared beyond the pedestals. It swirled ominously and crackled dangerously as the old man continued his speech.

"Turn away from this condition, however, and your soul shall be condemned to nothingness. Millions of lives will be snuffed by your hands as the alternate universe you now reside within would collapse under the onslaught of darkness from your world, crumbling into the abyss just as you would."

The old man signaled everybody to walk towards the pedestals that corresponded with the color that their souls resonated. Jeremy glanced around finally realizing who his companions were; it was a strange feeling knowing that everybody had died just moments before. This was no coincidence he thought as each one of them had some relation with the other and knew everyone quite well. This was destiny.

After a few more glances from Mica, to Matt, to Flakey and back to the glowing navy pedestal in front of him. He started towards the pedestal feeling a certain sensation that he could not describe. It was as if the pedestal was a part of him, as if it had always been with him and yet he never knew it was there. As he neared the pedestal he noticed at the top there were wrist bands floating calmly and gently. Just the image of the wrist bands gave Jeremy a sense that everything was calm, and his worries seemed to just float away.

Finally returning to reality he looked around and saw the others standing at their pedestals as well, whether they were feeling the same sensation he was, he could not be sure. The only thing that was left was the portal which he dared not think about. It was a funny emotion that humans were given, the fear of the unknown, however useful it was Jeremy would never know.

“So now what…” He mumbled to himself

There might have been no words to describe the mixture of happiness and horror as Matthew spoke, she slowly took the time to register the fact that her friends were dead. Although the happy part in her chest throbbed as well, relieved to see three people of whom she cared for. A rush of worry swept her heart, while she thought of her sons. But they would be safe, Mica reminded herself. They had raised them well.

When the pedestals appeared, it was obvious as to which one was owned by who, and her course for action was to copy exactly as Jeremy did. She feeling was anxious, scared and a little excited. The number of emotions began to feel overwhelming but Mica did not stop from nearing the scarlet glowing pedestal, although it was a bit like a fly and pretty shiny light. Except that the situation was not as complicated as a matter of your own life and your own death. If only this old man knew them, he would have thought secondly before entrusting them to save the universe and all who inhabit it. Mica paused for a short moment before floating over it, contemplating at what will happen afterward.

Not that she had much of a choice. With a final intake of breath, she finally stepped forward. Strings of white and red light slowly engulfed her very being giving her the illusion of two floating trinkets, earrings to be exact. It was two small beaded rubies with elegant gold holding it in place, before it disappeared along with the light. By the end of the little light show, Mica gasped. Her heart was beating quickly and the fire within her soul seemed to burn stronger and even brighter. She smiled at Jeremy's words, what now indeed...

"Is.. this some sort of sick joke?" spoke the startled man. "You're telling me that my closest friends are all dead, and now we've got to save the universe?" "Universes." corrected the old man, with a frown. And though he frowned, Blake thought he saw a small flicker of amusement in the man's dark eyes.

The wisp looked around, and examined each soul closely. He would recognize these as his friends, though there wasn't much left of them. Merely floating spheres of energy now. He thought back and felt a stab of guilt, because he had wished for this. He had wished for his friends. And here they were, all of them. Was this because of me?

A slow acceptance rolled over him and again he wanted to believe that they were here, if only so he wasn't alone. "Mica? Matt? Herms?" he spoke aloud. "You're all.. It's.." He had trouble getting the words to leave him, even in death. "It's so good to see you all, I wish it could have been sooner than death." Blake's mind was overflown with memories of their pasts together. They had all ended up together, successful. But now..

Following suit, the blue sphere floated forward and claimed his accessory, a sapphire encrusted necklace. He claimed it and returned to his small flock of floating friends, his mind uncertain of the accessories, the man, or any of the twisted situation.

Matthew was the first to retrieve his accessory (or whatever the old man was calling these items of power), but admittedly felt no different. He remained silent and pondered over everything that was happening. The four of us, heroes? Defenders of a realm we know next to nothing about, and sentenced to hell if we don't take it upon ourselves to end their misery? It sounds like something out of a video game, and while that thought is exciting... He glanced long at Micaela who claimed her artifact. This isn't a game. This is our life... well, our afterlives to be exact, and while I would gamble with-

A staff striking the ground interrupted his reverie, and the old man opened his mouth to speak upon earning the group's attention. "Now then... you have each been given a special item that holds the power of many fallen warriors who once resided in this realm. They each gave their lives in the end, but what little remained of their spirits combined into the objects you now possess. Any questions before we continue?" The four gave a collective shake of their heads, and the old man nodded slowly. "How you will save this realm, then, is by traveling via portals from this zone to worlds teetering on the edge of destruction. You will, using the items now in your possession, defeat the evil that has gathered in these worlds. After you have vanquished the darkness, secure the world's essence - a person or thing that serves as the world's soul, and absorb some of its power within your artifacts; bring this power back to me and I can slowly restore the barrier between this realm and yours, eliminating the source of contamination."

"So what you're saying is..." Matt began, "The more worlds we save, the stronger we become, and the more power our artifacts store in order to repair the barrier that shattered before our arrival here?" The old man nodded with a slight smile, "I'm glad you understand the situation. It seems I was mostly correct in choosing you four! Oh..." His face lit up as if in remembrance, "Since you are just souls, actually manifesting in a world is next to impossible. Instead, you will use the power of the artifacts to possess copies of you that exist in that dimension. In other words, you will briefly take complete control of you in that world to accomplish what needs to be done. Rest assured, however, that no harm befalls these versions of you once you vacate their body; they have no memory of the possession, and will simply return to their daily lives."

The old man looked down at the souls paying close attention to him, and then started to stroke his beard. "I do believe that's everything, friends, but don't let me impose after so much has been explained. Discuss, rejoice, and do whatever needs doing while I prepare the first portal! I shall return momentarily..." The old man struck the ground with his staff a single time, and the cloak he wore suddenly fell as if there was no body to sustain it. The cloak made a whirling sound as the material wrapped around itself and imploded until there was nothing left save an unseeable particle.

An eerie and awkward silence fell over the group as they were left to their own devices, and with so much to talk about... who would begin? There was so much they could say, and yet nobody could find the words to break the ominous cloud of an enigmatic adventure that laid before them.

Save the world…Save the …world...Save the world?

“What the heck is going on?” Jeremy mumbled to himself baffled by the cryptic man’s words. How would the four of them a group of old friends that just wanted the best for each other save the entire world? It all seemed like a dream, they would go through face a boss and then Jeremy would wake up with a jolt still in his bed at home, still the proud owner of all his artworks and still breathing. Death had apparently taken a toll on him more than he had thought and his mind was racing now.

“Breathe…that’s all I got to do calm down. It’s not as bad as it seems right? I mean I’m just a floating blob in the middle of some twisted dream that I’ll be out of in no time!” Even though he was saying these things in the back of his mind he knew this was real and he knew they would be doing something unheard of before. There really was nothing for him to do but go along with it and move forward in hopes of returning to his life or moving on to the afterlife. He looked back at the wrist bands that were supposedly powerful artifacts. They didn’t look like special wrist bands just ordinary ones you could buy at the store, but somehow the feeling was still different. Jeremy would just have to take this feeling as proof that what the cryptic old man said was true.

He faced his three other friends that had been dragged into this twisted journey along with him finding comfort in their presence. At the least he wasn’t alone and would not have to bear everything upon his shoulders.

“Hey guys…” By the looks of it everyone was just as confused as he was. “I guess no one’s throwing us a funeral eh…?”

Traveling realms through portals and fighting bad guys! She dreaded each thought that crossed her mind even if all the proof she needed was right in front of her. It was crazy! Yet, as the two small shining trinkets combined itself with her soul, the uncanny feeling of power had overcome her. It was a realization she had to come to terms with.

Mica was silent until Jeremy spoke, which brought a much needed smile. Her heart calmed when she remembered who were here with her. She wasn't alone.

"Well, if they are, I won't be there."

We should be okay, she thought, smiling again.

"Normally I'd be thrilled to inform you that I was right, and there really is no God." said Blake, a smug sound in his echo of a voice. "But this isn't much better than hell." He felt the pendant he had retrieved, and as he did, it glowed a dark blue, and then a very bright blue.

The four friends spoke among themselves for a long time, discussing their lives and what they had accomplished up until their collective demise, the mysterious plane of time and space they had been transported to, and what lie ahead. To the surprise of no one at all, in the middle of their discussion, the old man appeared once again.

"The portal has been crafted. The entrance is right over there." As he pointed, a gray staircase emerged from the darkness and slowly turned silver, then glowed brightly. The staircase lead up to a black and purple vortex that seemed to suck in the darkness from behind it to sustain it. Each of them stared at the portal, then at one another.

"I warn you," said the old man. "You may not all appear in the same place. When you're finally there, it's all up to you to find each other and complete the tasks that you've been assigned." And with that, he faded back into his abyss of a home.

"I don't like him. He sounds like he's given these speeches before." Blake shook his head and started up the staircase, just eager to be something other than a floating ball of light. The portal looked as if it grew even deeper as they approached, and out of nowhere, the portal sucked the four in with collective screams.

---

Falling again, falling into nothingness, or not moving at all. The darkness was soon illuminated by many twinkling stars, and then, a moon, both of which grew smaller and smaller as the spirit fell further and further, eventually smashing hard into something, then reeling over in pain as if something had punched him in the face.

Wait.. punched in the FACE? Blake jolted up from his painful fall and looked down. Legs.. arms.. a chest.. He felt his face. The form of his face had changed a bit. Medium sized nose, average eyebrows, medium ears with piercings, a slightly upturned jawline, and short facial hair. He felt behind him and grabbed locks of hair that extended slightly past his shoulders.

After exploring his new frame a bit more, he guessed at his age, 22 or 23. From the distance, he could hear a wolf howling, and several more answering the call. Snapped out of his daze, he shuddered and looked around. Tall trees encompassed the area, choking out the moonlight he had seen during his journey. The only light was a small fire in the middle of the clearing, that barely sufficed. The absence of a tent or a sleeping bag kind of unnerved him, and despite his excitement, he found himself extremely weary.

He shook his head and lay down, wondering what kind of world he had been shot into, and fell asleep wondering what had become of his friends.

--

Pain, piercing pain. A breathless scream, one he didn't know he could manage. He shot up to see red eyes staring at him and what sounded like a dog-like creature ripping off his shoe piece by piece, constantly biting into his foot and leg in the process. At the sound of his scream, the chewing halted, and the red eyes moved closer to him. Blake frantically scrambled backwards, pain shooting through his foot and leg.

Unable to stand, he felt around in the darkness to find something to throw. He found a rock, and threw it. It hit one of the creatures, surely a wolf, to which it howled in pain and growled loudly. "Am I going to die again? Already?" he thought frantically. "I can't let this happen.. I can't.." He reached back again, still backing up, and threw another rock, and another, pelting the already agitated animals, but it was for nothing, because after momentary discomfort, they continued to bare down on him. Something fell out of his coat and in a last ditch effort, he grabbed it and threw it too.

It hit one of the wolves and an extremely bright light formed into the shape of an animal he had never seen before. All that could be seen was a large fire darting across the campsite, smashing into the forms with the red eyes, as they were tossed from side to side or crushed. After many yelps and the sound of a flurry of paws disappearing into the forest, the floating flame approached him.

Suddenly, a burst of flame spouted out of mid air and all was illuminated as the fire caught the pile of wood. Blake covered his eyes to avoid the flare and heat from the fire, and then slowly uncovered his face to see a large orange drake towering above him, his mighty wings spread to either side, and a flame alight on his tail.

Suddenly it seeped in. It clicked and he knew. That wasn't a rock he threw, it was a Pokeball. Those weren't wolves, they were Mightyena. And this wasn't a dragon, it was his Pokemon, a Charizard. The creature walked forth and leaned down, examining his leg. "Charizard!" it bellowed in surprise, and then blew a large burst of flame at the bleeding wound. Blake reeled back and screamed, losing his wits again. He had saved his master, only to kill him for himself?

But that was not the case, of course. The scratches and punctures immediately stopped bleeding, as the flame burned the blood vessels closed. A stint of heavy panting followed, and he finally got the courage to stand and face his rescuer. The wounds still ached enormously, and he wanted free of that pain, but it would have to wait. The Charizard faced him and nudged his hand, and Blake cautiously stroked him as if he were a pet.

At that same moment, a large Butterfree flew through the trees into the clearing. It looked laughably harmless, but with its highly toxic powder and strong psychic attacks, it was still very dangerous. The two got ready to dispatch it while it was still off guard, but Blake had stood down after a man emerged from the darkness. "Hello." spoke the man. "Sorry if I startled you, I heard the noise and.." His voice trailed off as he glanced down at the corpses of the Pokemon that Charizard had dispatched.

"They attacked me." Blake said, suddenly. "While I was sleeping. I didn't have a choice."

The man looked again at him, then back at the corpses and shook his head. "You need not explain why, but it doesn't seem like you know why yourself. Why don't you come with me?" Blake nodded and limped over to get his Pokeball, and recalled Charizard and whispered a quick "Thanks again." before putting him back in his pocket, with the rest of his Pokemon.

They traveled for a while, silently, spare the sound of their shoes against the damp forest floor. Every time Blake would try to talk, he was quickly hushed by his new companion. Soon, they made it to a large wooden cabin, in which they slipped inside. "Now we can talk." said the man, closing the door behind him. They looked each other over for a moment. He was taller than Blake, with what looked to a built frame. He had eyes that were either a dark orange, or a very light brown. He had cuts and scars, as if he had been through many a fight, and short and spiked black hair. "My name is William Edwards, and what about you?"

"Blake." I said plainly, wondering what my name actually was here. "It's good to see another person, William." He nodded. "It's gotten pretty barren here, thanks to those damned Darkolyte. That's why the Mightyena attacked you, they're starving. Their prey had all either fled or died, and they're doing all they can to avoid feasting on their own."

"Darkolyte?" inquired Blake. "Yeah. You've never heard of them?" William said with a touch of frightening awe in his voice. "Wow, have you been living under an Onyx for the past few years?" He gave a light laugh and continued on. "The Darkolyte was originally an experiment to create the ultimate Pokemon. A large, dark dragon with unquenchable rage and a desire to battle and destroy everything. It wasn't originally like that, or the experiment would have ended there. But they were released into the populous and the people loved them. They began to abandon all of their other Pokemon, sending them back into the wilderness."

He stopped to clear his throat, and then let out a deep sigh and continued once again. "They were unbeatable. With large, sharp, black spiked armor, and the ability to meld shadow.. They quickly took over the Pokemon Kingdom. There was nearly no one who favored the old Pokemon. And so, with the humans releasing large amounts of Pokemon back into the ecosystem, many species grew too numerous and had to be 'disposed of' until very little of that species remained. The carnivores were thinning the already dying species, so most of the mighty predators were also thinned down to pathetic numbers. Even now, many species are on the brink of extinction."

"Then things got worse. The Darkolytes became savage as they grew stronger, craving the battles that they were designed for. They wouldn't stop after just knocking out the other Pokemon, they would kill them, too. Some because so strong and so vicious that they would attack and kill their trainers, and then fly off into the wilderness to kill the Pokemon there, too. Some of the cities were reduced to ashes, rubble, and corpses."

"There is no set ruler anymore, anyone in a high position was targeted and destroyed by the Darkolytes. The trainers in those cities attempted to battle off the rogue Dakolytes with their own, but their Pokemon turned on them and ended up killing them."

"So, we tossed away our Darkolytes and attempt to battle off the others, but even on a 5 to 1 Pokemon battle, they're still an incredibly difficult foe to beat. And they're so incredibly numerous.. the people fear that they will soon destroy our planet if nothing is done. Not many normal Pokemon remain. I haven't seen a Charizard for years. Yours very well may be the last. That's why I moved here, so that I could keep away from the destruction and train my Butterfree. That way, I'll be able to help with the battle too."

After this lengthy conversation, Blake gaped, keeping his eyes fixed on William. "The world is in ruin because of the Darkolytes?" "Yes, which is why we've got to destroy them."

"Don't they have their own feelings?" Blake asked, never loving the idea of a genocide. "Only rage and bloodlust. That's all they were given. They're the perfect fighting machines, and not much else. I'm impressed by your fighting skills, but I've never seen you around here before. We could really use your help, if you'd be willing to lend it to us."

"I.. would. Actually, I think it's my destiny." said Blake, only half-jokingly. William stared at him for a moment and laughed. "Okay, we'll head back out in the morning. For now, get some sleep. You walked miles with that bad leg of yours, you're going to need it."

He lead Blake to a room off to the side and left, closing the door behind him. Moments later, he drifted off to sleep, all the while thinking about his friends.

There was so much to say, so much more to do. But when he came back bearing the dreadful news, the fiery red ball dimmed as if she was hanging her head in silence. For some reason she couldn't bring herself to say anything and quickly floated up the stairs then jumped in. How many times will life make things go around for the worst? Bitterly she thought as the darkness wrapped its arms around her form and made her lose consciousness.

In the darkness it felt like she was dreaming. There was nothing to see and nothing to feel but the air that surrounded her soul. She was scared. There were so many experiences that she remembered, having fear and dealing with fear. Well, if the universe was planning to count on her and her friends, how could she deny the universe?

The very first thing Mica felt when she opened her eyes was that she could feel her body. The next thing was pain. "AH!" She screamed and sat up almost immediately, shaken by the sudden surge of electricity stung terribly. Her brown eyes frantically searched for the source and only saw a two colored ball that had a face. And it looked very angry. "It's alive?" Mica murmured, unsure of what to make of it.

She was in rocky terrain; there was a small bush of weeds under her back and tall foreboding canyons of rock. "That can't be good." Her attention was turned back to the ball. The upper half was white and the lower half was red. It was fairly large, bigger then her head. It growled. "I.. I won't hurt you, I promise." Mica began, completely unsure of how to address the situation. And she did not want to be electrocuted again.

Before it had a chance to do anything, the ground rumbled. The ball bounced and urged her to move, as if telling her to run straight while it slammed her back. "I get it, I'm running!" It was fast, much faster than she was but it made sure not to go ahead too far. Is it taking care of me..? But what's coming...?

The rumbling only grew worse as the ground beneath her started to crumble. Mica noted her footwear, sneakers with black and red design. She would have examined the rest of herself but a large rock-snake like creature appeared from just behind her. It looked like very large chunks of rock glued to form one line. And this creature looked just plain pissed.

"W-why is it chasing us?!" She yelled but the ball concentrated on leading her out of the canyon. The exit was clear, there was a blur of green colors at the end of the rocky roads, but will they reach it? The rock-snake only grew faster by the second, easily outrunning her but not the ball. It stopped suddenly, while Mica was scared, she wanted to stop too but her momentum denied her the action. "Ball!" The ball hissed and let out an explosive electric attack, while bright and probably strong, it didn't even lay a scratch on the snake. In panic, the ball retreated and glared at her to keep running.

By then the rock-snake had caught up with them and it hit the ball with raging anger, letting it smash towards the wall of rock. "No!" Mica looked down for anything that might help; instead her fingers met a row of balls on her belt. They were also red and white. One glowed fiercely. The rock-snake began to charge at her, it missed by a hair while she rolled away from the rock-snake and released the ball in her hand. It glowed red.

A blue creature, also having the base of a snake appeared. It stood in front of her with ferocity, looking mighty pissed. The ball slowly got itself out of the depression it made from the wall, softly whimpering. "Elec.."

Mica quickly got on her feet to hold it, cradling it in her arms while the blue-snake was slithering away and dodging all of the rock-snake's attacks. When it sprayed water from its mouth, it hit the body of the monster. It winced visibly, only slightly backing away before it charged again. The blue snake was a blur in her eyes, quick and agile, spraying water in certain places where it seemed to hurt most.

But it wasn't invincible; as the minutes rolled it started to slow. The ball shot it's eyes opened and bounced off her arms before she could stop it to help. It collected yet another ball of energy around it, aiming it perfectly at the rock-snake. The monster roared and growled, crying in pain as the mixture of water and electricity surged its body. It fell on the ground with smoke emitting from it, slowly it created a large tunnel and escaped from the scene.

Shaken, confused and most especially scared, Mica sat there in awe. "Where the hell am I?"

"Hey..."

Matthew was surrounded by darkness, but he heard a feminine voice in the distance, like a faint whisper desperately wishing it could grow louder. The whisper was hoping with all of its power to reach his unconscious mind, and eventually it pierced the shadows to cause a stir within his physical body. The confused man heard it again, and this time it was painfully clear.

"Andrew Maxwell, wake your ass up!"

His eyes snapped open just as the butt of a gun slammed against the side of his head, knocking him over sideways from his sitting position. "W-what just happened..." He grunted in pain and confusion, blinking his eyes furiously to restore his whirling vision. "Well, what just happened is that I called you at least twenty-four times to kindly tell you that you're on patrol tonight. But did you wake your lazy ass up? No! I had to damage poor Shiva by wacking it upside that hard, empty head of yours! Hell, I doubt you even have a brain in there to jar awake!" Whoa... He thought as the voice rambled until the woman heaved an exasperated sigh and stomped off. He rubbed his head while... Hey, wait a minute... I have a head! And another person acknowledged that fact! Am I... alive again? Is this my new body?

Sitting up in a daze, Matthew leaned against what he supposed was a wall, and put his new limbs to work. He closed his eyes since he couldn't see anything anyway, and instead focused on stretching each finger individually. Success! And he had five of them on each hand. He wiggled his arms, rotated his shoulders, and generally messed around until he was satisfied that he was a normal human being again. And then... then he regretfully opened his eyes. What he immediately saw was both unexpected and horrifying.

A middle-aged woman loosely clothed in tattered garb was cradling what appeared to be a blood-drenched blanket. Her face was stained with dirt and blood, and her eyes looked drained of life. She was rocking back and forth slowly, muttering inaudible things with a voice that seemed to be losing its strength. And that's when he saw it. The blanket shifted slightly to expose... a tiny humanoid head with a gash that ran through the center. His eyes widened as the head snapped backwards to stare at him with missing eyes, the sockets having been torn clean. In his attempt to be free of the image, his eyes darted to a trail of fresh blood running off the woman's body. S-she's bleeding! He went to stand and was harshly pulled back by a strong gloved hand on his shoulder.

"I know it's hard to see, Andrew, but she refused treatment. She just claws at anyone who walks close in a futile attempt to save that kid, to protect him from the Darkolytes. But we both know that kid's dead. He was dead when your Blaziken found him being cradled by his injured mother on the outskirts of the city..." Matthew glanced at the speaker to his side, a man in uniform who was sitting there the entire time. He had a mournful face with short dark blue hair, and dull green eyes. He frowned while taking a stand, and then adjusted the rifle that was held by his side with a shoulder strap. "Come on, Andrew. You've been through a lot, so the least I can do is help you on patrol tonight."

Patrol...? Blaziken? Darkolytes?! What the hell is going on here, and where are my friends? Where is Micaela? Argh, stupid old man! "Andrew?" Matthew blinked and looked up at the man who raised an eyebrow in question. "Oh, uh... sure. Thanks...?" Since everyone knew his name and it was apparently Andrew, it felt awkward that he didn't know anyone... but that fact couldn't have been helped. "Marcus," the man supplied with a chuckle. "Damn man, looks like the Major hit you with a stronger blow than I thought." Matthew slowly got on his feet, and shook his head meekly. The... Major? Was that the woman I heard earlier, the woman that hit me? "Oh yeah..." He began nervously, "She really hammered me that time!" He topped it off with an erratic laugh that earned a blank look from his comrade.

I...I'm so screwed... He hung his head before following after Marcus, his logical brain trying to calm the vortex of unanswerable questions that stormed his subconscious. One thought very clearly rang through, however, and it was the only one he felt he needed an answer to.

Was everyone he knew alive?

The scenery fused into a gray blur and in that instant the only things visible were the glows from the three orbs that accompanied him. He was being thrust up the stairs through the portal along with everyone else in almost complete silence similar to a black and white movie. Darkness shrouded the orbs and slowly sucked away their glows leaving Herms alone. The darkness seemed endless as Herms tried to blink his eyes but still nothing was there. Was this supposed to be the next world? He questioned his surroundings over and over again until finally he felt his conscious slip away into the infinite gloom.

The smell of sea salt air infiltrated his nose as he slowly regained consciousness.

“Where…am I?” He slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes a little letting the scenery sink in. He was sitting on the shore of a beach during low tide. Behind him was a sort of forest that looked to go for miles around, however there was a pathway inside of it. He figured people used the forest all the time to get to a town or something similar. “Wah…wait a minute!” Herms jumped up in shock after finally realizing he had a body again. With no mirror around him to see what he looked like, he did the best he could to utilize his new body. Herms ran along the shore letting his senses take everything in realizing how much he took his body for granted.

After being tired out he sat upon a rock facing the sea letting the breeze cool him down and allowing his heart rate to slow. There was something curious about this new body that he wanted to know more about. It was this belt with 6 balls placed on it, he had no idea of what they were but they seemed very familiar to him. Herms unhooked one of the balls from his belt and examined it more closely. In his hands he could feel calm warmth coming from it, as if the red and white ball held something more, something special to him that he couldn’t remember. As soon as he was about to put it back the ball enlarged in his hand causing him to almost drop it. “What is this thing?” He sat there with a puzzled expression and pinched eyebrows.

Something suddenly drew him away from his study of the ball in his palm; the smell of a putrid wind. A dark shadow had come over his body while he wasn’t paying attention and right in front of him was a giant blue water dragon with its mouth wide open ready to digest his new body. He let out a small yelp and tried running in fright, but he ended up tripping over the rock he was sitting on and dropping the red and white ball. Then something brilliant happened. The ball looked as if it had cracked open, and began to glow a bright white. The ball flew back into his hand and where it came was standing the strangest looking creature. It looked similar to that of a frog except it had a giant bulb growing out of its back.

“Bulba!” It spoke in a raspy voice jumping in front of Herms as if protecting him from the dragon.

“Hey! Don’t do that you’re too small, just run it’s going to eat you!” Herms tried to persuade the small frog-like creature to run, but all it did was look at him as if insulted. The water dragon began to move again releasing a deafening roar. Herms backed away in fright not taking his eyes off of the monster. The frog-like creature still stood its ground not looking the least bit frightened, as the water dragon prepared for a lethal strike. It lunged into the ground causing sand and dust to raise blinding Herms for a short second. His eyes wide in fright, fearing the worst had happened to the small bulb creature. When the dust and sand began to clear he could see that the bulb creature was in fact still there whipping the giant dragon with what looked like vines coming from the sides of his bulb.

“What…are they?” Herms questioned himself momentarily forgetting about the battle going on and getting distracted by these strange creatures and this strange world.

“Bulbasaur!” The bulb creature cried jumping into a different position away from the dragon. He began to shake his bulb causing leaves to fall out of the top, and with a strong gust of wind they soared through the air striking the dragon in the eyes, creating a major wound. The dragon now bleeding, let out a deafening cry and began to charge an orb inside of its mouth. The creature of what Herms named Bulbasaur due to its cry also began to charge an orb at the top of its bulb.

“Bulba, bulba, bulba…” It began chanting allowing the orb to shine more intensely as if sucking in energy from the sun itself. At the moment the dragon released its orange orb from its mouth the Bulbasaur released his own orb allowing the orange and yellow beams to connect causing a huge explosion. Herms was blown back against a tree of the forest with the Bulbasaur hitting him in the chest. Quickly he stood and picked up the Bulbasaur from the ground caressing it in his arms trying to see any sign of the dragon-like creature. He saw a blue tail splash upon the surface of the sea and disappear below. Herms let out a sigh and looked back to what was cradled in his arm.

“Bulba…” It let out a soft cry and drifted slowly to sleep.

“You did great little guy.” Herms smiled at him, but his smile quickly vanished as he noticed blood seeping from his bulb. Herms, eyes wide, did not know what to do, so he did the only thing he could do. He began to sprint along the path through the forest hoping to come across some sort of town or city. The forest grew dim but Herms kept running on despite all the red eyes hidden in the forest that were staring at him. He kept a one tracked mine and forced his legs to move faster no matter how much the wind pierced his chest.

At last he came to a clearing in the forest thankful that it wasn’t as deep as he had expected. He could see a fence and a person’s house nearing the edge. In fact, he saw many houses all of which were a soft cyan hue.

“Someone! Anyone, please help this creature! He’s injured!” Herms shouted between gasps as his lungs felt like they were on fire. Finally his legs carried him out of the forest and he entered the small town.

"So tell me again why I'm having to remind you of everything?"

"Because, uh... the Major hit me really hard on the hard and we don't have a good health plan for that sort of injury?"

"Oh... right," Marcus glanced sideways at his friend while continuing the explanation, his boots mechanically marching through the harsh terrain. "You remember what pokemon are, and that Blaziken was your first. Uh... we are part of the Viridian Survivalist Corps, or VSC for short. Our goal is protecting what is left of the people in this ruined city; we give them shelter, what little food we can offer, and stuff like that. We not only serve the people of Viridian, but survivors from all walks of life. Any questions thus far?"

Matthew shook his head in response while pondering the situation. So this world has what the inhabitants call "pokemon", and pokemon are kinda like monsters that some people called "pokemon trainers" train for all kinds of reasons. Trained pokemon are commonly kept in round devices called pokeballs, but this is not always the case. Andrew... er, the person this guy was before I came, possessed six of these pokeballs, and now I have those six secured in a kevlar belt on my hip... He nodded to himself and then switched topics. The Viridian Survivalist Corps... VSC. I'm apparently a member, and from what Marcus was saying earlier, only priviledged members are allowed a firearm. The Major has one, Marcus has one, and I have one... but I'm not sure if there are any others who have them. I think that's about it for now...

"Andrew?" Marcus turned to face him as they stopped in a small clearing on the outskirts of Viridian City. The blue-haired soldier was staring at his friend with a raised eyebrow, "Hey, earth to Andrew? You're really spacing today, man." Matthew blinked as he recalled that Marcus wasn't finished explaining things to him, and almost blushed at his idiocy. "Uh... uhm... y-yeah, I'm here. Go on, Marcus. Sorry..."

"Well, alright. If you say you're okay, you're okay. Now where was I-" His voice was suddenly and abruptly drowned out by a massive roar from behind him, and Matthew was shocked when a shadow leapt from the trees to swipe a gargantuan claw to Marcus' side. The top half of his body was swatted off of his waist effortlessly, his face set in a permanent expression of terror as it flew into a tree with his torso. An explosion of blood splashed against Matthew's chest as he fell back in surprise, a look of horror evident on his face. Marcus' legs crumbled as pieces of his chest that were torn by the claws rained down over the clearing.

W-what just... did he really just die? What the hell is that thing? He was looking up at a large black shadow with glowing red eyes narrowed down at him, a wicked white grin hinting at a ferocious maw that contained rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth. The creature licked the claw that assaulted Marcus, sucking the blood clean off as it examined the potential meal cowering before it. "Y-you're not getting me, you bastard!" Quickly he pointed the gun upwards from his perch sprawled out on the ground, wrapped his finger around the trigger...

They rested in a small patch of clearing in the lush forest, the Ball returned to it's own ball like the one the blue snake came from. As the other creature rested, this one examined her closely and hissed. Mica wasn't sure if she was liking the fact that her only companions disliked her. But it did not attack, unlike the temperamental ball. It slithered around her for a few moments though the most peculiar thing it did was look straight into her eyes. After that it curled near her feet where they sat and closed its eyes.

This was her moment of peace and she started it with a big sigh. Her body still felt like jelly, most especially her knees from that traumatizing experience. Her hands trembled as she rested them in a fist over her lap. What exactly was that? And what are these? Those were the first obvious questions she addressed. But because there was no one else around her, there was a looming dread in her heart. But first she had to calm down before she ventured off to look for some source of civilization. Her eyes wavered to the four circular divices on her brown belt, it was where the 'pets' she had came from. Mica was worried about the ball, although it had strength to help his comrade, it didn't look too good. Perhaps there was a vet somewhere? He would be her first priority at the moment. Afterall, these two just saved her life.

Mica examined her clothes, khaki cargo pants with a brown belt that held the four balls and a red divice. Her upper clothing was a black tanktop with an open dark green jacket and black gloves that hugged her fingers tightly. Another thing she noticed was that the swell of her chest was.. well, smaller. It was actually a good thing even if she did like her original size. Running in those would be the worst thing ever. Her skin was the usual semi-tanned skin, brown eyes she couldn't really look at and her hair was still jet black and slightly curly. The long bangs still covered most of her right eye. So far everything was normal. Two simple bangles were attached to her pierced ears, she couldn't see what they were but they were in the shape of a thin circle with engravings and carvings on the gold base. You know, if one minused the seriously strange animals that resided in the world. The trees looked the same, the rocks, skies and plants.

Now if only she could figure out where the devil she was. Mica fiddled with the red rectangle divice and flipped it open. It wasn't a cellphone, although it could pass as one. On the upper part were the words 'POKéDex' and the blank screen. After spending probably half an hour fiddling with the thing, she had seen different types of 'POKéMON' as the animals were called. The red ball was called an Electrode, the evolved form of Voltorb and the blue snake was a Dragonair, the evolved form of Dratini. There was a wide array of Pokemons to look at, it displayed simple data about each one. So far Mica knew she had a water and an electric pokemon. What did the other two POKéBalls consist of?

She decided it was not quite time to find out. The first thing that had to be done was find a town. The Dragonair opened it's eyes when she stood, and slowly swirled in the soft grass. Mica offered it its pokeball but it refused. With a shrug, she began to nagivate through the forest. Although it seemed the Dragonair was doing that for her, she just followed. As they walked deeper in the forest, the grass started to look grayer and the trees had less leaves. There were barely any other pokemon in the forest, except a caterpie they saw which just scurried away at first sight. The rest of the trip only grew tedious; she was hungry, tired and sleepy. Although her pride wouldn't allow her to say a word and wherever they were heading didn't seem like a place that would have an abundance of any of the things she needed.

It was in the next half hour that they reached the remains of a town. At the entrance was the battered sign that said 'Cerulean City'. There were many decorations that looked like a watery design on the lamp posts and even on the broken tiles. Her face darkened when she saw the dry blood splotches on the floor and on the tattered building walls. What could have happened here? The Dragonair looked sad as it slowly looked around. Despite the tragedy, they still had no supplies. But at least the deserted City would provide shelter even if the calm dark blue skies threatened no rain.

Mica wandered the streets as she took a seat on a large rock, sighing loudly as her feet was relieved of her weight. The ruins was especially quiet, not even the sound of a cricket or the tweeting of birds. Only the harsh cold air that seeped through her clothes. She shivered. The Dragonair was arched up on her rock, looking to the left and right in alert. Generally, it did not look like a good sign. "What's wrong?"

It's only reply to her question was it's eyes widening in fear, as it quickly slithered up and tied it's tail around her wrist. The last thing she did was protest and quickly ran with it at full speed. Her heart thumped with the sheer feeling of fear.

The creature shrouded in darkness charged viciously, and Matt closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger of his firearm...

...or thought he did, at least.

The sound of gunfire tore through the clearing, but multiple sounds as if a collection of barrels were ablaze in an attempt to slay the beast. He opened his eyes slowly to see a group of armored men and women coming up on his left, their hands full with guns that were pumping lead into the dark creature that shielded itself with one of its massive arms. It regarded him with one of its blood red eyes before spinning and leaping into the forest in one fluid motion, gone as quickly as it had appeared.

A young boy looked at the corpse of Marcus with a shake of his head, and then ran to Matt, smiling softly. "Are you hurt?" He had light blonde hair and baby blue eyes, the kind of face that you would expect from a purist. And not someone who so nonchalantly stared at such a gruesome fatality. "U-uhm... I'm fine, just a little shaken. Than-" "What a fool," boomed an angry female voice as a feminine figure loomed over the fallen Marcus. "You wasted your time on a rookie and look what it costed you. Tch!" She kicked his torso away and turned to look at Matt, although he couldn't see her face. She was wearing something like a motorcycle helmet with a visor in the front that completely concealed her features.

"What are you looking at, coward?" She shouldered her gun and spun on her heel to face the rest of the squad, "Well then, the VSC has failed again to prevent yet another casualty. And we let yet another Darkolyte escape our grasp. Despite this... your collective aim was horrible, and our manpower is down by one. Are you fighting for the good of mankind, or have you all given up like dogs?! Move out." She cracked her neck while brushing past the small number of shocked VSC members. Matt was stunned as she left, but looked at the boy when he sighed abruptly. "I fear she isn't going to lead the VSC much longer at this rate, Andrew..." The boy looked back at him with a frown, "It's really taking a toll on her, and I worry. My Chansey and I can only do so much for a physical wound, but for one etched into your mind... let's go. They're leaving." Matt nodded silently and mentally noted that this boy didn't call the woman 'the Major' like everyone else. He was sad because his new friend died, but relieved that he apparently had another person who knew him well, despite his age. He seemed mature, and he liked that a lot. The boy helped him stand and then they both followed the squad back to Viridian Gym, the VSC' headquarters.


"This place is a wreck..." Matt shook his head in disbelief as they made their way back to headquarters. He hadn't taken the time to observe his surroundings when Marcus rushed him out on patrol, but now that the pace was more leisurely... he couldn't believe his eyes.

The once magnificent Viridian City had been reduced to a pile of debris drenched in the blood of its absent population. The stench of death permeated everything, filth littered the broken ground, and sound was nonexistent. If this is normal, then this world truly does require guidance of some sort... but what can the four of us really do against such overwhelming odds? He curiously reached out in front of him to feel... anything, but the fumes of destruction had snuffed out any sign of nature long ago; the wind did not blow, plants did not grow, and animals had not frolicked here for many years. It was as if the world itself had forgotten about the city, and it certainly felt as if time had stopped completely.

"Andrew?"

He blinked and looked ahead to see that the group had marched on long after he froze. The boy stared back at him curiously, and he waved meekly before jogging to meet him. "Hey, sorry about that," he bowed apologetically and the boy just smiled. "It's quite alright. To tell you the truth, I still haven't completely accepted the image yet, you know? I remember back when Viridian City was so full of life... but then the Darkolytes came, and that light was trampled beneath the black wave." The boy pocketed his hands and chuckled slightly, "But there's nothing we can do to change the past. And that's why I support the VSC, to somehow positively influence the future. My Chansey... well, it's the only healing pokemon we have in the VSC, and-"

"Wait, do you hear that?" Matt stepped away from the boy and looked around, listening intently. The boy stared at him, confused.

"What is it, Andrew? I don't hear anyth-" He blinked as the man took off running, and followed after him quickly. "Hey, wait Andrew! It's too dangerous to go out alone!" Matt disappeared around a corner and when the boy rounded it, he saw no sign of the older man. "I'm sorry Andrew, I can't..." The boy hung his head and leaned against the standing wall of a ruined building.

It's faint, but that's the sound of a person! A living, breathing person! I have to find them... Matt drew a pokeball, glanced at it for a second, and threw it. It popped open to shoot a red beam that formed the image of a small yellow rodent-like creature.

The creature looked up at him, tilted its head with a twitch of its ears, and made a "Pika pi?" sound. It also very quickly turned with its ears perked up as Matt heard the faint sound again.

"You hear it too, buddy? Lead me to it! We gotta rescue them!"

The creature looked back at him and slowly nodded, bounding off in the direction of the sound with a determined face. Matt followed as best he could while being careful to avoid the many hazards of the fallen city. As they ran, the sound increased and he could make it out to be human speech.

So it is a survivor! The creature he summoned leapt through a broken basement window and he climbed down after it, landing in the midst of complete darkness. The speech stopped as if they were right on top of the source, and soon whimpering started. He couldn't see the rodent anymore, but the room suddenly lit up as if lightning shot through it. He looked down to see that the rodent was glowing yellow with sparks of electricity circling its body. It was looking in the direction of a corner and Matt hesitantly followed its line of sight with his eyes. They fell on a child, a little girl huggling something to her chest with her face hidden. One of her legs was laid out and bare. Matt could tell that her leg was badly injured and her ankle in particular was most likely fractured. Various cuts and other such wounds adorned her body and left very little clothing to protect her pale flesh.

"Pi pikachu!" The rodent squeaked.

The orange thing she was holding in her arms suddenly moved, and a head emerged. It had a beak and three dense strands of hair sticking out of its head. "Tooorchiq!" It cried out while opening its beak, a small ball of flame growing within its throat even as it breathed heavily. It must have been defending the little girl for quite some time.

"Chu'ka chu piii pika-pika!" The rodent stood on its hind legs and motioned wildly with its little paws in presumably an effort to stop the attack before it started. Matt watched quietly, afraid that any human involvement could spook the orange bird-like protector.

Dragonair led them down the sewers where it was cold and dark, not a better situation than the last few hours. However the urgency of the pokemon alarmed her, and instinctively she dropped a hand to check at the balls on her waist. The warmth emanating from the round devices calmed her and anything that was of any comfort was welcomed.

There was a loud sound, a gust of wind could be heard from above.

Dragonair curled himself around her leg. Mica took him in her arms as her heart thumped loudly, closing her eyes and succumbing to the sinking feeling in her stomach. A screech, sounds of rocks falling and tumbling and more gusts of devastating winds were wrecking havoc on the remains of the town. What was it?

The pokemon pressed itself against her in comfort, and somehow it helped. It went on for a long while, scared as she was it wasn’t the usual 10 or 20 minutes, it was for over an hour. The anguish of that Pokémon’s cries, the screeching was really something out of this world and that was saying a lot. It would be engraved in her mind for a long time.

They proceeded within the tunnels, with no apparent destination. The rumbling stopped and the chaos seemed to calm itself and after several hours of exhaustion she braved peeking in the upstairs. Empty.

Dragonair felt safe enough to crawl out and so did she.

The sight was a real downer. The newly formed rubble had dust clouds in the air, and some of the corpses were disturbed or crushed under rocks and other unmentionable things. With her hand on her nose, it was definitely time to leave. There had to be someone, somewhere.

The loneliness was beginning to take a toll on her, her new found Pokemon friends were lovely but it was different from the usual companionship that she felt. Mixed with hunger, weariness and grief, she found herself collapsing on her knees. She wasn’t the only one either; the Dragonair usually looked alert, regal and dependable. But even he began to falter.

Mica insisted he was brought back in the ball. He did not protest that time. Not to mention Electrode was still injured within his pokeball.

She marched forward; all throughout her path there was not a single sign of life. Not even a random bug or a fly, or a weird pokemon peeking from the bushes, simply stillness. Then the wind began to pick up pace, the rustling of the leaves, flowers and the sound of the sea filled her ears.

The sea greeted her with its fresh scent. The wind fluttered by her skin as the refreshment of nature filled her, giving strength to move on. The moon shone brightly, beaming her brilliant light on the empty beach. After refreshing herself with the water, Mica sat on the beach and soft sand and looked around. It wasn’t riddled with wreckage or even destruction, but it was still barren of life… except for the slightest evidence of footsteps on the sand. They weren’t fresh, but the smallest hint of someone here gave her hope.

Someone had to be close.