ZAC
Getting Comfey
Fortree City | Date
THEME
Zac grabbed the horn, and saw his death. Devastation, as alien monsters tore through a city. The invaders' attacks sliced through fighter, friend, and foundation alike. Buildings fell like concrete redwoods, and landed with deep, resonant booms that Zac felt in his molars. He is covered in mortar dust, still-warm blood soaking deep into his Delibird-gifted jacket.
Zac grabbed the body of some fallen fighter and dragged them to cover. They looked familiar. Not to Zac but to
this Zac. He tried to will them back to life, doing whatever passes for medicine in his mind.
Nearby, others still battled the menace. The faces were blurry, but one stands out, even from across the battlefield.
Priam? Zac thought. From far away it looked like him, but something was different.
When did he get those scars?
Zac felt something change around him. A shudder in the air as something, some
one pulled away from the fight. Left Zac alone to fend for himself in this nightmare.
And then Zac's friend was gone. Not dead but just gone.
Priam had disappeared from the battle in a twist of reality.
Somewhere far away Zac gripped the horn tighter. The vision shifted. The air was boiling hot, and it seared Zac's skin. No, boiling is too gentle, it was
searing hot. Flecks of magma splattered down around them as he and Priam faced off against each other on the bank of a lake of lava.
The peak of Mt. Mortar? Zac looked around at the shattered bodies of his Pokemon.
Heliolisk, Steelix, Rhyperior, Clawitzer, Turtonator, Flygon.His whole team, strewn around limply on the rocky juts or half in the pool of magma that bubbled restlessly nearby. There had been a battle here, and it was
almost over.
It was a vision of the future, and a bleak future, as Priam advanced alongside his sole remaining Pokemon:
Samurott.
"This is it, Ramsay," called the shadow-Priam over the hiss and rumble of the lava.
"It doesn't have to be," Zac answered as he backed away from the pair. "You can still join us Priam. There is still good in you!"
"The Priam you thought you knew is dead. You saw to that," spat the shadow-Priam, and he motioned to Samurott. The Pokemon drew his leg-sword, a great blade of bone that trailed darkness and emanated a deep, shuddering loss.
Zac bumped up against the rim of the volcano. Zac looked into Priam's eyes, and saw only the dispassionate, disconnected look of someone who has had something
crack at the very core of their being.
What did I do to you? Zac thought, searching those void eyes for hope.
"Priam no, I-" Samurott lunged, and his bone sword drove through Zac's chest, shearing his ribs and burying itself two-feet deep in the rock wall behind him. Zac shuddered, words lost on his lips. The last thing he saw were Priam's eyes, tear-less in the volcanic heat.
Zac let go and jerked back from the horn, the hand going straight to the phantom wound in his chest. He was kneeling on the floor, with Priam beside him.
How long was that vision?
He could breathe. He could breathe and he wasn't dying. His hands shook, and he coughed, expecting blood.
Am I in shock? Priam was talking to him. Saying something. Asking if he was okay? Maybe. Zac could see his lips move, but all he could hear was a
rushing, whooshing sound. He was deafened by the sound of his own breathing.
"I, uh, I need to go..." Zac mumbled, waving away any help as he staggered for the door.
Need to go sit down. Need to go think. Need to go throw up. I need to get away from him.