Even with the protection offered by his armor he still could feel the bruises welling up along the surface of his skin, and he frowned a bit. The ground had collapsed underneath them, and if not for his Gallade, they would both be nothing more than a stain on the ground.

"He can keep it up for a while, but it's not advised, because oxygen will become a problem...." The robotic voice expressed to his companion for the moment. "However I can at least unbury us, but we won't be teleporting, my Gallade will need a rest." He explained, and he frowned a bit. It was going to be a tricky maneuver to pull off, and if they got it wrong, they were going to die. "No....Any of my pokemon that can produce a light would be to large for this space...." Which was mostly true.

"Pray that this doesn't kill us....Do it...." He gave the command to his psychic warrior, one of it's blades extended, and it used Sacred Sword to cleave a section of the rubble on top of them to dust. For a split second the barrier went down, before it appeared around them again. That singular moment even caused his heart to hold still, but it paid off at the very least.

Preston Fugu

"I'll pick a god and pray."

And he did. He prayed. Preston wished that he had his old Pokémon team, back from before he had abandoned Team Rocket. If he had them, then...

"If I had my old Pokémon, this would've been different. I could've gotten us out in a heartbeat." Preston's voice was dark as he watched Amor tear apart the rocks with a remarkable deftness. This man was likely a Rocket Beast, given his strength. Anything was possible, though. Preston had seen strong admins, weak underbosses, and average beasts during his long tenure.

The only law regarding Rocket was to expect the unexpected, and they would never disappoint.

"They're dead now." Preston grunted as he looked up through the crack. All he saw was dust. "Like those boys out there. Rocket and League both look the same in coffins."

With a whistle, Preston sent his Zubat into the crevice before the barrier closed. He looked at Amor and gestured for him to repeat the action when his Zubat did not return.

"It's checking for that beast. If it hasn't come back, it's not there still. Hurry."

---

Amor Rose

They at least now had an escape route secured, and once his Zubat finished scouting ahead, his Gallade would boost him up to the top of the rubble pile, and he looked around. Another frown formed on his lips, they had fallen quite the distance, and just like he said, everyone was most likely dead. IT was an unfortunate side effect of battling with your enemies, but there was nothing he could do about it. This is what they signed up for, and to cry about it wouldn't bring them back. The only way to right these wrongs was to simply rewind time.

"I doubt we will run into it anytime soon....This isn't it's territory." The statement was completely baseless, but he was at least confident in it. When the other was ready his Gallade would help him get out of their makeshift shelter, before getting out itself, and with the barrier gone that section would collapse further.

"No use lamenting on what could be....We have what we have." Returning his Gallade so that it could rest, he scanned the rest of the area, and a Metagross would appear next. Using Psychic it would move the more difficult rubble out of the way so that they could traverse this place safer. "If it attacks again, do you have other viable pokemon besides that Tentacruel?" Because he needed to know how much weight he was going to be pulling in the potential future battle.

Preston Fugu

"They're all dead." Preston looked at Amor with a flat stare. A cord jutted out in his neck as he looked away. "Fugu is all I have on me. I'm a chef, not a fighter."

Despite that, he had danced well in his brief exchange with Amor. The chef was talented, but most Rocket veterans tended to be. The war in Kanto had sharpened all involved, and the war in Johto had turned them into immaculate weapons of war. It had not saved Preston's Pokémon, but it had made him strong.

He was still alive in a region that crushed the weak underfoot. There was no place for those desiring peace in this region. No place for safety, only blood.

"We're gonna kill it." Preston gave Amor a glance before picking his way through the stones. "Come on. It killed your men, don't you feel responsible? At all?"

A large swath of footsteps lead up a cliff, towards the Giant Chasm above. It was a long trek back up to the surface, to civilization.

"I won't fight you until this is dealt with. We have bigger problems. Preston." The chef's voice was hard. "My name."

---

Amor Rose

He quirked a brow as the man mentioned killing the creature that had uniformly slaughtered all of their men respectively.

"Why would I want to kill a creature that is acting as it should?" He questioned the other curiously. "It didn't do what it did out of malice, it did it because we invaded it's territory....Pokemon are not creatures of good, and evil like humans, and I have no intentions of treating them to that standard." The reply was brisk, almost icy as he continued onward.

"I'm going to capture it...." That was all there was to it, Amor had seen the power of these creatures firsthand when he had fought one with Navy, and then again in his venture with Alexandra Briarwood. They were to be tamed, and utilized, and despite how horrific Rocket was. Amor considered himself above them in the fact that he never killed people, or Pokemon.

"And if you get in my way I will leave you crippled in the dust until whatever emergency team comes to find you." It wasn't a threat it was a sincere promise.

"Seraphim...." He introduced himself to the man.

Preston Fugu

"Because if you don't, the Rangers will. Actions speak louder than words, so act."

Words were wind, actions were not. You could trust someone based on what they put on the line. You could trust the person next to you on the battlefield, because they put their lives on the line with you as you both fought for your survival. The average grunt could be trusted, because they did the same.

"Or the League will step in and deal with it. Either way, the souls of the slain won't rest until we put this thing six feet under."

If this man could not respect the dead, then Rocket had truly fallen since Kanto and Johto. Even for the brief stint that Preston had been with Rocket during Hoenn, they had not stooped to such miserable levels. Rockets protected one another, even from themselves. If a grunt died, revenge had to be repaid.

They were expendable, but Rocket's image was not.

"Capture it. Kill it. I don't care. As long as it's gone."

---

"I'm not very big on superstitions, but if you want to put the souls of the dead to rest properly you can always take a trip to the Border." Came the nonchalant reply as they continued onward. "Asking me to feel sorry or to take revenge for those who knew what they were getting into....Seems disingenuous to me, but that is just a matter of perspective I suppose." He sighed a bit.

That was the truth as he saw it, to him it was that simple, but perhaps others didn't view it in the same way. Amor had killed only one man in his life, and it was for the sake of revenge. It was before he joined Rocket, so it wasn't that the sentiment was lost on him, as much as that he knew that getting revenge was not as filling as one often thought it would be.

"I'll tame it so that it's no longer a threat to anyone, don't worry. Despite appearances, pokemon like that are my specialty. " He said with no small amount of confidence.

Preston Fugu

"There's no need. When the dead die, you lay them to rest. There's no need to dance among them."

Seraphim's truth was wretched and vile, but it was something that Preston had to accept. When you fought in hell, you took the devil's help. Peace could only be achieved through a firm hand, and that was something that Preston currently lacked. He was capable, but only Fugu was strong enough to contend in this world, and the Tentacruel was crippled.

That Paralysis would bite him soon, but there was little to be done. He was Preston Fugu, a chef who had betrayed Rocket to live a peaceful life.

He wondered where Grigori Sokolov was.

"Very well. Let's go." They began the march up the cliffside, past glimmering Tera Crystals and the occasional corpse. After a moment, Preston found a man's Pokeball. He picked it up and slipped it into his pocket, continuing his wordless march.

"It's a long trek up."

---

Amor Rose

He didn't speak, he didn't mock the man. Instead he let the silence of the dead wash over them like a gentle rain. The stillness of the world engulf their presence, as they made their way back up to the domain of the beast that had caused this wretched calamity. The dead couldn't speak, they couldn't cry, they couldn't tell you their regrets, or how they felt. It was just this, another void of silence, and stillness. So the pair marched onward to put an end to further travesty one way or the other.

One who wanted to avenge his fallen, and the other who wanted to tame it.

It was almost like something out of a movie he mused to himself in his own thoughts, but he didn't speak. What could he say? At the very least he would have to find a way to heal the mans Tentacruel before the final battle. As strong as he was, he also didn't feel like showing off his entire hand to a stranger, but maybe that wouldn't be so bad....

So many variables so little time.

Preston Fugu