The Lucario noticed the danger a few seconds too late—what with the wind within the unknown space howling and ripping incessantly at the both of them.
The Jackal Pokémon had his paws up to protect against the powerful wind current that was threatening to knock both him and Alexei down, and therefore had completely missed the incoming glint of silver coming in at high speed.
Whatever it was that was going on in here, the otherworldly winds were throwing the Lucario’s senses off.
Alexei, to be fair, was attempting to lean against the wind to prevent himself from being knocked over, but the way the entire place was howling and crackling forced him to close his eyes and brace himself against the storm. Much as he wanted to move forward, he couldn’t, at least not without risking himself getting blown away should he shift his balance.
And then—
The sudden shift in balance knocked him clean off his feet;
he’d barely noticed the Skarmory that had come pelting out of nowhere at an impossibly quick burst of speed, what he
did notice however—
All the wind had been knocked out of him with that blinding flash;
and after the flash—red.
It was raining red.
That was more than enough cause for him to panic.
He didn’t register the angry howl of the Lucario beside him, the blur that raced forward and bashed at the Skarmory; knocking the other Pokémon away from where he’d collapsed.
Oh, and panic he did.
He barely registered the fact that one side of his head had been cut open; the rain of blood—
his blood—overtook everything.
The hot, blinding flash associated with the sharp, searing pain blinded him as he fell backwards onto the ground; was this it?
Was this where he was going to… to
die?The stench of rusty metal was thick in the air as he saw flashes of scenes right before him—
Was this what they meant when you were about to die, about how you would go over your entire life in those last few moments?
A moment from back home, his first meeting with
Victor Wexler;
A flash of light, the sight of low light as he finally turned around and crept over the wall and dropped down to the other side, into the outside world, to freedom;
Boarding that boat at the Castelia wharf, the one that would take him away, away from everything he knew, out into the wider world;
His first steps in Slateport Harbor, still looking green, because he was seasick the whole way;
More and more snippets of scenes flashed by before his eyes—of
Zahra Belsky, of meeting @mattis for the very first time at Trashy Rascal’s when he’d started bartending, of
Tempest Quinn and those trashy nights they would spend watching cheesy rom-com movies, of the time they broke up (and left him in the dust);
The ascent of the Navel Rock Tower; where he’d seen a false god;
The time when a wack-ass clown very nearly flattened the entire city of Slateport with its exploding head;
Another time when noxious poison tainted the roots of a tree, when he’d seen
Kaida Adachi die before his eyes (but had been brought back to life with no apparent explanation), at the time the closest he’d ever come to dying had he not thought of how to get out of the damned place;
The Three-Day War, down at Lilycove, where he’d stayed in the air most of the time; where one of the little Phione had lost their lives to a senseless, baseless woman who had broken his trust in her;
A festival where a herd of Tauros had run amok, and very nearly flattened everyone on their path (and yet
another Legendary Pokémon had made its appearance);
The time where (back then) he thought he was really done for, having been attacked (and now bearing those scars on his neck as a consequence) by being in the wrong place at the wrong time;
That summer tournament where he’d shown up very late (and as a consequence, got yelled at by his PT) but still managed to put on a respectable show;
And the time he’d gotten lost in that purple mist, that had turned black, showing him his deepest desires (and his worst nightmares);
All in between those scenes were visits in the skies, him holding a purple-and-green feather as he chased down a familiar sight, trying to understand the existence of multiple parallel worlds;
The scenes were whirling together in a cacophony of noise that he barely registered, but wait—
What was happening? The noises and sights were fading, was this finally it?
Was it his time to cross the rubicon?
At least, until he heard the voice shake him to his senses.
“Wha—Memo?”His throat had never felt so dry.
why does this seem familiar?!
