[attr="class","main"]
Cillian prowls the edge of the audience like the predator whose likeness he has adopted, red eyes aglow in the gloom. They narrow at the Snubbull King's words. Put an end to things?[break][break]
I'd rather not.[break][break]
Imagine! An entirely new source of Shadow Pokémon![break][break]
He might not have gone at all, with that in mind, if not for his insatiable curiosity. Perhaps if he could understand the nature of these dreams, he could replicate their power in the waking world. Besides, it would be an inconvenience to Rocket if the League were to receive unfettered access to such powerful Pokémon... though many would doubtless sacrifice their awful potential in favour of
purity. Weak.[break][break]
Claws swipe through the air to open his inventory.[break][break]
[attr="class","rbynote"]
BATTLE CARD (3 ea.)[break][break]
BROTHER OF THE YEAR[break]
RED CARD - COVERT CLOAK - TOXIC ORB
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He squints, offended, as he parses the connection between the scathing title he'd been afforded and the items that came along with it.[break][break]
Who
made this place?[break][break]
His thoughts immediately shift to the Triad; had they not proven themselves to be behind most of Hoenn's mysteries? They certainly knew far more than they should. Perhaps it was dangerous to remain here... but curiosity shackles him.[break][break]
He leaves in search of the aforementioned
DUNGEON...[break][break]
[break][break]
... and comes across an anomaly in the wood.[break][break]
Circhester.[break][break]
The walls of the ancient city rise up through the forest as if they had always been there. He reaches for the stone, half expecting an illusion, and his claws scrape against worn stone. He slumps against it, tired from what feels like hours of walking.[break][break]
It's
Tempest Quinn who rouses him from that spot, approaching from the tree line.[break][break]
With a groan of frozen iron, a gate nearby swings open, offering them entry. Cillian accepts his husband's hand to help him to his feet, and together they plod through the snow and into the unknown.[break][break]
In a cruel twist, the fangs and claws afforded to his avatar prove useless in a real fight. It is only thanks to his shadow Pokémon's intervention that he isn't torn in two by the denizens of the dark city; the midnight Lycanroc
thrives where he suffers.[break][break]
Eventually, they reach the 'end'. The site of a wedding held only in dreams. Old buildings serve as the backdrop to a snow-covered courtyard, and the air shimmers in front of him as if to warn him that if he stepped forward, there was no turning back.[break][break]
A tired laugh bubbles from his lips.[break][break]
"We got married here, in my dream."[break][break]
But when he turns to Temp, his husband doesn't react as he expects. It's then he realizes with a surprising sadness that this was not his husband at all. Not really. The one they'd titled 'water dog' did not recognize Cillian as anything more than a fellow player.[break][break]
He smiles when Cillian speaks, but it feels hollow, now.[break][break]
Resigned, Cillian steps over the shimmering boundary...[break][break]
[break][break]
... and finds himself face-to-face with
SHADOW LUGIA.[break][break]
It should've been comforting. A relief, after stumbling his way here. But the
DYNAMAXED legend that dwarfs him stares down without recognition, and her
PRESSURE is downright
suffocating.[break][break]
"Look, if you're behind all this, I'd rather not fight-"[break][break]
She replies with a shriek that summons a heavy
RAIN, and one he recognizes as a war cry.[break][break]
Of course it wouldn't be that easy.[break][break]
Lycanroc takes to the field with a fearlessness borne of its shadow powers, clearly not affected by her aura as it would've been in reality. Though her follow-up
THUNDER strikes it hard and true, the werewolf retaliates with its
SHADOW DOWN, cutting her defenses.[break][break]
Searching desperately through his items, Cillian rolls his eyes.[break][break]
"She's immune to poison!" he complains of the
TOXIC ORB.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"[break][break]
It wouldn't benefit Lycanroc to be poisoned, either![break][break]
He applies the
COVERT CLOAK, instead, a shroud of shadows coalescing around the werewolf and making it look like some twisted Red Riding Hood reference. The slowing effects of Lugia's
ICY WINDS could no longer take effect, and the Lycanroc snarls in triumph as it lands a particularly devastating
ROCK SLIDE.[break][break]
"What does this even do?" The
RED CARD must've been the closest thing to a
RED FLAG the system could find, hardly subtle about mocking his relationships with his siblings. But it was bound to be more useful than the orb, so...
"Fuck it."[break][break]
As her
SHADOW STORM rips across the field and impacts the werewolf, Lugia disappears.[break][break]
In her place, an
AURORUS, randomly chosen by the system.[break][break]
No longer
IMMUNE to the effects of the
TOXIC ORB.[break][break]
Holding the object within its paws, the Lycanroc throws a
CLOSE COMBAT punch and shatters the orb against the sauropod's side,
BADLY POISONING it with the toxins that seep into the cracks left by the devastatingly-effective attack.[break][break]
With a low, keening wail, the prehistoric threat collapses to the ground, and disappears.[break][break]
A crown of cold steel clatters to the frozen earth.
[break][break]
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[attr="class","pkmn"][break]