"I tried." And he did. This ignorant creature has bared his fangs against many powerful monsters. He has done everything in his power to carry out this battle, for the glory of Rocket. Yet his best was not enough. He was sent running by that monster. His tail was tucked between his legs. Paradox Pokemon almost killed him. A snarl threatens the edge of the dog's lips before his sword brother.[break][break]
"I'm still not good enough." Sadness and anger mingle at the words. "That bastard and all the rest...they killed almost every Pokemon I have." A slight tilt of his head towards the three Kartana. "'Cept these guys. Senpai...it really sounds like you hate that guy."

This nameless Krokorok is possessed of a certain insanity. Some might call it suicidal. It simply wishes to even the score. Having drawn the living garbage close, he lunges at it, clings to it. Holds it tight. After confirming his grip, he begins to sink himself into the sand. Untrained, mad, and prone to the darker instincts of its nature, it wishes to bury both itself and its opposition in a sand tomb. It coils around the garbage in mutually assured destruction, dragging them both into a trap designed to kill them both.[break][break]
"Listen up." A dog declares to a beast of different stripes. "I don't get what ya mean. I don't even know Rocket's about. Dunno what they're fightin' for. All I know is...I think too much about stuff these days. I've killed too many people. I've seen too many people die. I dunno who's callin' the shots in Rocket from overseas. All I know is...can't afford to let ya kill me here."[break][break]
The Hasegawa Muramasa hooks into its owners flesh. Once more, it drinks deep of dog's blood. Ghostlight comes alive along the edge of the blade, surging with power. He made someone a promise. This creature very much intends to keep that promise. He must survive, for his life belongs to another.[break][break]
A surging cascade of blue flames bears down upon the Ceruledge. They trace around the human, ordered to not harm him by the will of the dog baring his fangs. It's an all or nothing gambit. Everything he has.

Once more, the cold seeps in. This creature hates the cold. He has since he was little. Cold. Fear. Hunger. Before being forced into the all too human world of the Hasegawa, those base things were the only hatreds he understood. Instinctively, he leans back against the taller man. Better to guard against the cold, and guard him. With a honedge in hand, and three kartana flying around them, he prepares for what's to come.[break][break]
"Yeah, I fought the guy." The name sounds familiar. "The guy who's friends with Grouhog, right? I remember his picture. Bastard killed my Samurott." A rare trace of venom drips from his lips with the words.

They sit in the ruins of a flower field as Kartana nurture them. Folded origami samurai are not, as a rule, known as nurturing beings. They see the dog as one of their own. Each of the three fetches them food, water, wine, blood. Whatever they need to get back on their feet. Who can say how long they linger there, under the interdream sea? Time passes strangely within the mist. Elsewhere, they slumber, or else mere moments pass. The dog slips into sleep and his fitful dreams within dreams.[break]
Lurching awake, he stands. Blood courses through his body. They are alone here in the mist, alone for the moment. Alone in this vision of a Johto long past, where clans warred for dominance. They are just two samurai caught in this chaos. They are used to this role, it seems. They play it well in the present.[break]
"Oi. We gotta get up. Gotta get goin'. Gotta. Gotta get out of here." Stumbling up, he sheathes his blade. All of the Kartana cling to him, giving him supportive hugs.[break][break]
War drums beat in the far distance, beyond the treeline.

Short though this dog may be, his body is athletic from years of training. A jump plants him upon the legendary pale steed's back. Seated behind his boss, he clings to him the way a child might cling to a parent. There's apprehension and warm in the touch, a quiet assurance that he isn't alone. No matter what demons might grip at the blade's mind, a loyal dog prowls the edge of the darkness. If they would come for him, then they must contend with a creature that would allow himself to burn before he would see that blade taken.[break]
"My report is that this place sucks. Lotsa the bigwigs from the League're here. Most of 'em are bunched up in a big group headin' for the center. Recognize plenty of faces from the files." Faces like FERNANDO SILPH, ollie morales, or freya morningstar. This dog does not know their names. Even held at bladepoint, he would not get a single syllable correct.[break][break]
"And there's strong Pokemon out the wazoo. Heatrun. Those weird paradox things."

The admin cuts an impressive figure atop that horse. His dog's jaw slacks at the sight before righting itself. Standing up straight, sighing in relief, he sees that the legendary monsters have decided to leave them alone. Details on the mission are foggy at best. Delivering supplies. Cutting anything in their way. It's always the same mission. Particulars change, but the song remains the same.[break]
He's just happy to be here with the man. Other grunts whisper about something ruinous. They pull him into the rumor mill, ask him questions he doesn't understand, prod him for information.[break]
None of that matters to him. What matters is that someone he cares about needs him, and so he will paint the world red for them if that's how it has to be.[break]
"You mind if I catch a ride? It's hard to keep up on foot. I'm not as quick as these guys." Pointing up to the three swaying Kartana, they all laugh like his words are the funniest things they've heard in a long while.

Because the bosses wanted to rule the world? The world is a vast, wide place. Too wide for a simple dog to imagine. Amber eyes little comprehend what is beyond the next hill or turn of the sand. Ruling a world is beyond him.[break][break]
What isn't beyond him is the clash of a bitter blade against a night slash. The blade in his hands screams in displeasure from the heat. Even a cursed blade like this has its limits. No great genius, this dog still calculates how well the blade will be able to resist future hits. The two-pronged blades of the Ceruledge are deadly indeed, and right there. Ready to tear into him.[break][break]
"The world's a big place. I don't think blondie and senpai's arms are that long!"[break][break]
Close by, the Krokorok is hit by the gunk shot. Instead of backing down, the dark beast moves in. He subjects the creature that attacked him to torment, pacing around and laughing at the living garbage.

"Damn." Perhaps another creature, a proper human being, would lace the words with disdain. Perhaps they'd carry some double meaning. A dabble of sarcasm would sprinkle them for effect. "That sucks." Yet he is open. Honest. Pensive at the news. First blood or last blood, it all blends together in the final analysis.[break][break]
It's pointless, this battle on the beach. Neither of them have anything to gain by spilling more blood here. Yet still, he marches forward. He doesn't know what drives him. Perhaps fighting this dark knight will bring him closer to an answer he seeks. Maybe the dog is a puppet as well, dancing to the swaying strings of an unseen puppeteer.[break][break]
Flicking his sword up, he aims a psycho cut at the dark knight. His Krokorok accompanies him, trying to bury his opponents in a sand tomb built from the shoreline.[break][break]
"The hell're we even fighting over?!

He sees his own reflection gazing back at him. A dog sees himself from twenty years ago. Bodies are scattered about thoughtlessly. Pokemon stumble about, dead and dying. Pointless slaughter. This dog is no hero. No matter where life takes him, that role will never suit him. All the same, he questions why. Why all this death?[break][break]
His heart burns. Raising his red blade, the dog walks forward. At his side is a Krokorok. Caught a few months ago, this beast endeavors to stay by his side. Keep his master safe. Fight, until the bitter end.[break][beak]
"Yo. Long time no see." The dog says to the man who presumably murdered them - him and his dark knight.[break][break]
"Any reason you're puttin' so many guys in the ground?"

Pushed back by the Lucario, the dog resolves to fight. His resolve stays until he looks down. His Aegislash, a blade that carried him through twenty years in a false Galar, has melted down to the hilt. Lucario's flames burn bright. The spirit in the blade has been released. His Aegislash wasn't very old. Whatever tales of glory, triumph, or tragedy his Aegislash had to share are gone forever. His Pokemon have been thoroughly slaughtered today.[break][break]
This champion's friend prides himself on never retreating. A warrior never shows his back. Something like that. A dog has no such pride. A dog will turn tail and run. So this creature runs. Scurries. Team Rocket blasts off again, but with rekindled resolve. Let him fight. Let him kill. Let him not think. Thoughts and tears will come later.[break][break]
"I'll get you for that!" He shouts.[break][break]
But he won't. Not for a long while.

"Yeah..." His voice is quiet when he says the word. It's more for himself than the other person. Most things animals and humans alike do are, but they dress it up in pretentious altruism. This creature has no such hang-ups. Running for the Aegislash, he pulls it from the ground. Holding the blade aloft, his amber eyes dig into the stranger. He'll remember this face forever. Hours from now, he'll look at leaked League intel and realize this man was the big fish.[break][break]
"Yeah!" A second, louder cry. The weight of the oversized blade almost makes him fall over. It's been a decade since he used this sword properly. It's much too big for him. With his size, he's more suited to the katana at his hip. Caught in the heat of battle, his fighting spirit kindled, the thought is lost. Instead, he marches forward, swinging a second fury cutter up at the supermassive hound.[break][break]
"Blueman's going DOWN!"

"Ugh..." He slips and falls. His pride has been saved, but there's nothing else to be done. The monsters have retreated with the dawn, but they're stuck here - here, where there can be no real change. Trapped, for the moment, in a dream. Too drained of blood to fight. Too drained of blood to stand. Her swordplay is beautiful - as beautiful as the she-wolf hereself.[break][break]
But that is an older man's thought. A fluke made possible by a dream. The dog he is has no capacity for such thoughts. Instead, he simply shuffles into sleep. No enemies are nearby. They can rest...[break][break]
...if only for a moment.