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An Aggron, of all things.
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Loose in Petalburg Woods.
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Fingers had been pointed, blames had been passed, but while the Rocket admin will later on make sure to deliver swift and just punishment upon whoever it was that made the grave mistake of allowing it to break free, his priority here is retrieving the steel beast…
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If you want something done right, do it yourself. Isn’t that what they say?
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The Greninja moves swiftly, jumping from branch to branch – the path of destruction left behind by the Aggron being as if trail that will lead to its capture. It can’t run. It can’t hide. It can’t escape them. It can only senselessly rage through the forest.
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Except that, apparently they’re not the only ones who know of its presence.
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Mars recognizes him the moment he hears his voice in the distance, and with a soundless command, it’s WATER SHURIKENS that fly in pale moonlight. It's with expert aim that they’re thrown, touching ground and exploding right in the empty space between ranger and Aggron. A warning, nothing more. One that awakens the armoured pokémon’s rage in the form of a mighty roar.
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”Step away from that pokémon, Mahmoud.”
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Martín del Mar stands at the edge of a clearing, hands in the pockets of a dark coat and gold-like gaze fixed on a man he once knew.
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There is no fondness in his voice.



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[attr="class","parigidw"]

There's there faintest of noises that Pace wouldn't have picked up on if it wasn't for the tense silence, from the trees behind him, and he's unable to turn before the shuriken find their mark just in front of the Aggron. It rears back with a roar, taking a couple steps back towards the underbrush. Pace reaches for his pokéballs, but stops when he hears a voice.[break][break]

A voice he recognises, too, the moment it hits his ears. Because it's a voice he's heard so many times before - a voice that he knows like a brother, because if not a brother then what had Mars been? Beyond best friends, something that had no modern word. How else could you describe someone that you could paint with a blindfold on, knowing each part of their body and soul off by heart?[break][break]

Pace moves his hands up and turns, slowly, to face him.[break][break]

"...Mars."[break][break]

A thousand thoughts run through his head. Is this something to do with the syndicate? Is this Aggron his?. He won't get an answer even if he asks, but that doesn't stop him from pointing a finger.[break][break]

"I suppose you're something to do with all this, then. I have a job to get this thing safely caught and returned to the headquarters"

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There was once a time when the mere thought of Pace Mahmoud would have made Mars smile. A time when he had trusted in him, confided in him, and shared everything with him – even that which he loved the most. That time is gone now; long lost, a relic of a forgotten past that he no longer wishes to think of.
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When Martín del Mar looks at Pace Mahmoud, all he sees is a traitor.
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All he sees is the blood of the woman he loved splattered on the walls of their home.
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”A job?” There’s mockery in his tone, and as he says this, the dark Greninja jumps down, landing next to him and staring at the ranger as if watching his every movement. ”What a good ranger boy.”
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The Aggron charges, but Mars is ready, bringing out a Luxury Ball from which a huge Urshifu is released. It matches the steel beast’s strength with ease, holding it down with one paw while the other delivers an all too powerful DYNAMIC PUNCH to its gut. The Aggron stumbles back, letting out a pained cry.
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”I’ll give you one last chance, Pace. Leave.”
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Despite the ongoing battle between bear and armoured beast, Mars’ gaze remains fixed on the traitor.




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[attr="class","parigidw"]

Pace looks to Martín del Mar, too, and doesn't see a traitor so much as he sees anger. How much of it is his own anger at himself projected through Mars' eyes? How much pain and rage and disgust that he fears is Mars' is his own heart, stuck in his throat? There was a time when they shared everything - friends, lives, bodies. It had melted away in the everlasting heat of the sun, wax wings shedding to a deathly plummet.[break][break]

There was a time when Mars' calling him a good boy would have elicited a laugh, an arm around him, a twinkle in his eye. Now he furrows his brow, almost speaks before he witnesses Mars' Urshifu attack the Aggron.[break][break]

Without a word, he lets Akhenaten from his ball, the PYROAR's great fiery mane lighting the area around them, and without Pace needing to tell him lets out an echoing NOBLE ROAR. He watches the situation diligently, eyes flicking between Pace and the battling pokémon to his side. Not yet, Pace's eyes spoke, but clarified a maybe later in the way they narrowed.[break][break]

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Mars. Last I knew, we were always equals"[break][break]

Is it mean to say, when he purposefully tickles that nerve? At the very least, it's inciting.[break][break]

"I'm not leaving."[break][break]

Not this time.[break][break]

"Call off your pokémon and leave the Aggron alone, and you'll have nothing to do with any of this. Finding another Aggron isn't difficult for someone like you, is it?"[break][break]

It was never that easy, obviously, and Mars would retort quickly enough. But deep within, he didn't care whether Mars agreed to his terms or cussed him out. However sharp his words were, at least they were his. It had been so long since he'd heard that voice, seen that face. Mars could beat him to death here in the backwoods and a part of Pace would want to smile just for feeling his touch again.[break][break]

God, he missed him. And hated him. And was so, so sorry.

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Equals.
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They had never been equals, not even back when they had met. Pace Mahmoud had worked for his family, been meant to serve him, and in all of his hubris and rebellious spirit, Mars had granted him the privilege of his friendship. It had been a mistake. There had been some great moments, yes, but in the end, when it mattered the most, Pace had proven himself to be the scum of this earth.
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Had he ever thought of him as an equal? Maybe, but of course Mars would never say this, for in his mind there was only ever one person who was meant to be called his equal and perfect match, and she had died because of Pace Mahmoud.
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His words are meant to provoke him, and even though Mars knows this, he still allows it to work like a charm.
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”Equals?” He scoffs even as the Pyroar’s NOBLE ROAR takes effect, even as his Urshifu weakens – momentarily brought down to one knee in its standoff against the enraged Aggron. ”You’re even cockier than what I remember. Guess I should remind you of just how wrong you are.”
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Mars reaches into his coat, almost as if he were about to retrieve something from its inner pocket. A weapon? A gun? No, a mere tap on the small keystone that elegantly adorns a tie pin. It shines, and as if in response to its shine, the mega stone on the golden anklet worn by his Urshify does too – MEGA EVOLUTION taking effect. Fur that had been black as soot turns pristine white, marked by streaks of blue while the bear’s eyes are suddenly filled with raging wildfire.
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The Aggron doesn’t stand a chance. The Mega Urshifu grabs it, and as if it were weightless, throws it against a nearby trunk. With an exploding sound, the tree snaps. And, as the Urshifu approaches the defeated steel beast to finish the job, SHURIKENS fly. Not towards the Aggron, but towards Pace and his Pyroar.
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”Who do you think you are?”
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Does Pace not remember who stands before him? Who he’s trying to defy?
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Once, when Mars had been younger and had allowed his rage and belligerent spirit to fill his heart, he would have beat Pace with his own two fists for everything he has done. He would have destroyed him just like he personally destroyed everyone who had stepped into his home that dreadful day back in Jubilife. He would have brought pain upon him unlike anything he has suffered through.
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That will is still there, but in all of his belligerent spirit, Mars commands.


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He raises a brow - Mars takes the bait. He scoffs back at Pace, a quip remains unspoken about how they were never equals, that Pace was just some little pool boy-turned-killer, a Marzán servant in everything but name. It was true, after all, and Pace wouldn't put it past Mars to view him that way now, but back then? He had let Pace into his life and bed with such welcoming arms, not only with himself but with Natalia, too. He had laid with the two of them like lovers, and now one was dead and the other wanted to see him suffer.[break][break]

Mars reaches into his coat, and Pace feels his extremities suddenly run cold. Was this it, then? He was going to shoot him, alone in the woods? Leave him for the birds to find, a sad, lonely sky burial that nobody would ever know he'd been subjected to? But no, the hand doesn't pull out a weapon. It taps something, and that something glows bright, and resonates with the Urshifu.[break][break]

"Still hiding behind your pokémon, Mars? Where would you be without them, hm?"[break][break]

Another thing said to hurt, to anger. Does he mean it? Yes and no.[break][break]

The MEGA EVOLUTION happens in a shine of light, the Urshifu's body changing and burning with the flames of power. Aggron is downed in seconds, and in Pace's distraction he catches a glimpse of running fire in front of him, Akhenaten taking the force of the SHURIKENS to protect his trainer. Still standing, but clearly hurt. Mars had always had him beat in battles.[break][break]

"Name or not, Mars, you're no god. You can stand and shout down at me all you want but it won't change the fact that you have no control over me. You never did - we were friends. I followed you out of respect."[break][break]

Equals.[break][break]

The Pyroar stands at attention, watching diligently, every muscle poised. Pace glances to him, and then to the Greninja. As if subconsciously reading his mind, the lion pokémon springs into action, bearing it's fangs and OVERHEATING. The branches and foliage around them catch licks of the flames, bathing the two men in flickering light.[break][break]

"Leave the Aggron. I don't want this to go further than it has to, Mars"[break][break]

A warning masking a pleading request. Pace didn't know how far his mind could take him against someone who was so much a part of him. And, hesitantly, he hoped that Mars held that same reservation, in the deepest, most locked-off parts of his heart.

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Pace Mahmoud talks too much. As if he thinks all of his insults will save him. As if Mars will find them amusing, laugh, say things are just like old times, and forgive all of his sins because he sure missed this damn clown he used to consider a part of his family.
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Pace Mahmoud is a fool and that’s what he has always been.
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A fool who got the woman Mars loved killed.
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”You didn’t answer my question.” This time, he doesn’t bite. This time, he doesn’t acknowledge any of Pace’s stupid comments. This time, he’s had enough.
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Steam sizzles as a HYDRO PUMP meets the Pyroar’s flames, pressurised water aimed at the lion while fire licks Physignathus’ dark horns – the Greninja winces, but he does not fall back or recoil. Fire spreads, burning fallen foliage, and Mars continues to look at Pace, the golden hues of his gaze now as if molten.
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”Oreius.” With the Aggron’s down, Mars calls to the attention of the MEGA EVOLVED Urshifu, because no: he won’t do as Pace demands and leave the Iron Armour Pokémon behind.
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Oreius knows this too.
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And, it’s Oreius that advances towards the ranger, ignoring the fray between frog and lion and focusing his attention on the man that’s attempting to cause all this trouble. He too cares little for flames, and from the way he looks down at Pace – as if he were no more than a Applin to squash under his strong paws – it’s clear that he also cares little for the ranger. He doesn’t even ready a proper attack, no SURGING STRIKES or THUNDER PUNCH. Swift in the ways that have earned him the title ‘Rapid Strike’, it's with UNSEEN FISTS that the MEGA EVOLVED Urshifu throws a punch – an incredibly powerful one aimed directly at the solar plexus of this helpless man.
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Talk shit, get hit.
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Surely Pace hadn’t forgotten that simple rule of life during his time away from Sinnoh’s syndicate, had he?



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"You know very well who I am. Just like I know you."[break][break]

I know everything about you, he wanted to say. It was true, once, but there had been years since, and a lot can happen in such a short time. In fact...[break][break]

Akhenaten takes the full force of the Hydro Pump, his mane all-but steaming out entirely. He hits the floor hard, and Pace calls him back into a pokéball before anything else can make another, more fatal, move. The Pyroar's flame grows around them, smoke billowing off of the trees as it creeps up their barks and through their boughs, spreading ever outwards like a glowing, burning rot. It reflects in Mars' eyes, mirrors into the Phlegethon. There was so much rage. [break][break]

Pace doesn't think before he acts, never has, and before his mind can process it he's yelling out and charging towards Mars like a beast gone wild. What he hopes to achieve from it is a mystery - he would never kill Mars, let alone for something like this, but he knew he couldn't speak for the opposite. He'd seen Mars work - he's killed for less.[break][break]

His stupid plan is cut short - he barely takes a few steps before the Urshifu connects, hard. The pokémon's fist finds his abdomen in one swift movement, and it knocks all the wind out of him at once. The pain stuns him, and Pace's legs collapse beneath him as his body hits the floor. He stares up into the canopy, dark writhing at the edges of his vision from the sudden shock and the pain. The sky, in it's blurry scarlet, glows angry like the gates of hell.[break][break]

"You're a cunt, Mars" He growls out, like hot coals, and finds the strength to clutch his stomach. "But... I never meant for..." For what? For all of this? For Natalia's death? It wouldn't do much to help him, now - it would only take a few commands for the Urshifu to crack his head open like a walnut.[break][break]

Mars' figure stands before the burning foliage like the guardsman of hell and hatred. His silhouette is black against the flames, and he stands stock-still, even now confident as the world burns around him. The thought dawns suddenly - I don't think he's ever going to stop. And why would he? Before stands him Mars, Ares, Tyr.[break][break]

O' Lover of war.[break]
Have you razed too many fields[break]
chasing hungry shadows to see the[break]
lives that flourish behind you?[break][break]

Pace stares up into the eyes of war and lets his face fall.[break][break]

"Don't kill me. Mars."

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Mars has killed for less, that much is true. His past is blood-stained, marked by every life the syndicate had forced him to take. He had painted it as his own choices, he had worn a mask of apathy, and guilt had become an emotion foreign to him, but none of those lives had been lives he had wanted to take.
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Martín del Mar hadn’t felt a desire to kill until his wife and child were taken from him.
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Kill those who had hurt his family. Kill those who had wished for it to happen. Kill those who could have stopped it and hadn’t.
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A primal desire.A deep-seated need. A thirst for vengeance unlike anything he had ever felt. One that seems impossible to quench no matter how many lives he takes.
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Is Pace Mahmoud’s death the thing that will finally satiate him?
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His Urshifu strikes, and when the traitor’s body hits the ground, Mars feels nothing at all. No concern, nor joy. No sadness, nor thrill. Nothing. As if Pace Mahmoud means nothing to him. When had things become this way? Had he stopped caring? Or, is it perhaps that he’s locking his feelings away?
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On the day they had met, a bottle had been gladly emptied together, and it’s as if that cherished bottle now contains everything he has ever felt for the defeated man before him. And if so, the bottle is cracking and close to breaking. If so, it has been cast to float adrift in the merciless ocean that is his psyche.
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Mars feels nothing, yet he still reaches for the gun. He moves closer, he steps upon the fallen body of his enemy, holding him close to the ground, and he points the gun towards him. A ’click’ and the safety is off. One shot, that’s all it would take. One shot and Pace Mahmoud would be dead. Mars knows this, so why is it that he doesn’t pull the trigger?
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Eyes of gold meet eyes of gold. Those molten against those pleading and dulled.
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”Don’t kill me. Mars.”
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Doesn’t Pace deserve to die?
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Doesn’t he deserve to pay for everything he has done?
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For Natalia’s death? For his betrayal? For abandoning Mars?
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”You destroyed my family, Pace.” Does he realise that? When he had allowed Natalia to die, when their son hadn’t even gotten a chance to see this world, when Mars had been at his lowest point, Pace – who had been family to him too – had left without a word. Even before Mars realised the truth about his disappearance, Pace had already deepened his wounds. Pace had left him alone.
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Pace Mahmoud deserves to die, but in the entirety of this world, he’s the only person who Mars has considered family that still lives, and in the end, despite everything, Mars can’t bear the thought of another person he loved dying because of him.
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”I hope and pray that you spend every day of your life being haunted by the thought of their deaths. Even at your happiest moment.”
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Natalia’s death. Their son’s death. The death of everything he had cherished.
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The gun is lowered and amongst flames, Mars walks away.
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Turn around. Never return.



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Mars looks down at him and Pace doesn't see a single moment of doubt of hesitation, nor regret. He had expected that much - Mars was never going to have Pace on the ground like then and then wince as though the pain was his own, not now. But there was no smirk, no satisfaction taken in Pace's defeat... this was something deeper, not so much emotionless as it was numb.[break][break]

Pace had expected bloodlust - something wild to come alive in Mars' eyes as Pace was laid vulnerable, and to finally snuff him out, finally pay him back. But it just... didn't come.[break][break]

Instead, he pulls out a gun. [break][break]

This is it, then, Pace thinks. The Urshifu's strike was humiliation, but this is the real blow. There was so much he had never done, never said - so many people and lives and journeys he never got to experience. It hits him all very hard, if not unconsciously, so he doesn't even realise he's welling up beneath the barrel of the gun.[break][break]

His tongue stings metallic, likely a remnant of the hit to the gut he's received just moment before. The air is hot with adrenaline and creeping flames, and smells thick with iron - though maybe that's the blood in his throat.[break][break]

"I never made the order to kill her" Pace spits a wad of red to the floor beside him, looks up past the gun to make direct eye contact with it's wielder, as though the barrel didn't exist. If he was going to shoot him, he should damn well get it over with. Pace couldn't regret what he did any more than he already does.[break][break]

"Anything I could have done would've ended badly - my death, hers or yours. You know that"[break][break]

Mars replies, so cold that the flames seem to peel away from him for a moment, ifrits yanking the heat back like hit with dry-ice. It seeps into Pace's head, and then he walks away into scarlet. [break][break]

Pace lays in the dirt for a minute or an hour, wondering if maybe Mars had pulled the trigger anyway. No bang, no great shot of pain - but why, then, was it so hard just to stand? The heat spreads like a blanket. Processing feels like it could take months; would it be so wrong to lay in wait of it?[break][break]

A flash of light, then, from his hip, and Nefertiti releases herself from her pokéball. Her figure heavenly against the backdrop of hell, she nuzzles at his pained side and roars out into the sky. With a hand on her side, Pace heaves himself to his feet and allows her to guide him out of the forest. [break][break]

He marks the mission as a failure, shrugs in answer to questions, and takes the week off.