Oscar didn't know what he had expected, putting on this extravagant display of mourning. Perhaps he hoped some poke-diety would see his pain and take pity, bringing back those he had lost. What a childish thought, as if this were some fairytale. Oscar had killed so many of his own companions; he could claim all he wanted that the thing that attacked Slateport was responsible but he would be lying to himself. Oscar sent them out, gave the order to attack, and continued over and over in a vain attempt at progress. He hadn't felt anything at first, they all seemed so disposable. But then when began sending in pokemon cared about, had actually raised and trained and deep down loved, it all suddenly became heinous. 

He could still see Sama's death, it looped in his mind endlessly. One moment she was there, and then she wasn't. It happened in the blink of an eye, but Oscar's mind recorded every milisecond. From the moment she missed her attack to the moment a dazzling beam of light evaporated her body--the pain was still fresh. That same pain inspired guilt within Oscar, guilt born from throwing away his soldiers like resources. Made him sick. 

He stood before a shrine of his own creation, a makeshift memorial of stone in his favorite training ground. Lit candles covered the gathered rocks, one for each that had perished in that fateful battle. Oscar stood in front of it, silently watching the flickering flames as he mind slowly numbed to his agony. He wished not to be disturbed, but would not object if any wild pokemon decided to visit.