“Yo, Fisher, where the hell are you going– the raid just started!”

“Apologies. I must handle other matters. Continue your work– you know what to do.”

“Fisher, get the– fuck, where’d he go?!”

“Ya heard him lads! Keep formation– not like a bugger like him needs the help.”

“Physically, nah. Mentally, fuck yea! Why the hell has he got his Kanto Uniform on?!”

-

Grigori’s armor clacked and crinkled in the dead of night. Despite the alarms, his movements cut through the intermittent silence of the night. Sure, scuffles sounded from a distance, and there was the occasional creak or flutter of footsteps. But at this point, the night no longer held the flurry of confused and dazed people.

They either hid, or took up arms. The former he had no qualms with. The latter, though… it was up to him to cause chaos and sow discord as much as possible. howard slayte ’s command clung to his mind like an overboard sailer to a wooden splitter of their now broken ship. He must not kill unless absolutely necessary, a hope he hung onto for dear life.

But he must cause problems. And to start… there. Someone ran down the street. In the distance. He clung to the shadows, as still as the darkness that masked his presence. Slowly, the footsteps got closer. Closer. Don’t kill, don’t kill, don’t kill. Not another repeat of Kanto.

Now. He emerged.



From the pitch black, a monster donned in red and silver. And his metallic body sent Eris to the wayside. Not his entire strength-- that'd surely break her neck. 

Was that... a kid? "What are you doing here?"

---

Eris Halla

The little one looked familiar. From that Arceus-forsaken prison, perhaps? Unfortunately, she’d likely recognize him before he did her– he bore the all-too-familiar mask from it. Despite missing a piece, it still hid his identity well enough to make putting a name to the face impossible. Very important for the task at hand.

“You should be in the bunkers. Locked away, safe,” he stabbed his hammer into the wall. Bits of brick crumbled down from where it struck, and its metallic surface caught the moon. From the caverns of the doomed search party last year. With the bear and Megalopolans. “Yet here. You. Are.”

The Luxray did little to dissuade him, as he took a heavy step forward. The mask blocked the emotion from his sound, filtered out to only leave the harsh bitterness of an old, hardened criminal. “Run. Away. Go. Home. Hide. You will be safe– you have my word.”

His free eye spoke anger and violence, yet his hidden one was burdened with desperation. Please. Run. Spare us both the misery.

---

Eris Halla

Howard Slatye? He had a lot more friends than Grigori. Especially outside of Rocket. If Rocket ever caught on– no. They surely had to have known by now. Nothing got past Cillian Quinn . No one. This entire plan had to have been run by all the Underbosses, if not Delcan himself. They knew of his allies.

Regardless of their side of the conflict.

Even if it included children or teenagers. “We both know why I am here. But what you don’t know, is that I don’t want to hurt people. Hurt you.”

A truth. Cold, hard, like the hammer that’ll bash in her skull if she doesn’t comply.

“Forget howard slayte . No one can help him. Save him. All you can do is save. Yourself.”

Another harsh truth. Either this worked, and Rocket congratulated him, or it didn’t and he befell a few alternating fates. The higher-ups assassinated him. The League captured, tortured, and executed him. Eternatus awoke from his raid, and nobody here would live to see tomorrow. The odds of him surviving a failed raid were next to none. 

“So run. Hide. And don’t look back. You’ll be complicit,” he said. From his point of view, it was a warning. If she was in a position to help but didn’t, then some people might not be happy with her conduct. ‘Why didn’t you try?’ he could hear them demand. ‘If you can run to help one you care about, you can help everyone else.’

"Last. Chance." Grigori readjusted his grip on the hammer, and reached for a Poke ball on his belt. He could not back down. It was not an option.

---

Eris Halla

Grigori lets out the breath unknowingly held in his chest, and his hammer falters slightly. If he could prevent one soul from damnation, then that would be enough for tonight. Even if he had to ignore the sense of dread and doubts in his mind. That this was a lie, and he was falling for it in real-time.

“I will not.”

But he was not foolish enough to fall any further into the world of fiction. This was not a negotiation, and they were not friends of friends. “Be grateful you did not into anyone else as is.”

“Go. Now.”

His hand pulled the ball off the belt, and rubbed the release mechanism. One twitch, one errant distraction, and hell would unleash. This time for certain.

---

Eris Halla

Oh, how Grigori wanted to turn the other way. A blind eye to the obvious attempt to go toward Howard. In all honesty, she likely knew where to find him better than even he. It’d be easier. Much easier. No one even had to know– the odds of this teenager telling on him to his superiors were zero.

But he had a duty. Cause chaos, create an opening for Fox to delve into the Deep Sea, and ensure no one got hurt if he could help it. She was a problem, and he was a problem solver. “I warned you.”

A white light emerged, and a creature from the depths of insanity branched its thick, black arms to the sides. The Xurkitree pulsed its light and whipped its head around. There were no easy points of power around here, but… it could sense the source that ran away. The one that Grigori started to run after.

“Stop them by any means.”

Like a rabid dog, the cables bunched and pulled together. Its lanky, long body traversed down the street with surprising speed. Its head alight, always able to smell the electric pulses left by the Luxray. A perfect scent to chase. She made him do this. He had no choice.

---

Eris Halla

Cables was truly free.

Not bound by the trainer that could never hope to keep up with it (try as Grigori might, but the setting was too good for it). A perfect target to track, and not enough distractions to draw it off the Luxray’s trail. A challenge in the hunt too, as a flood of flowers threatened to drown it off.

It almost worked. Everything but one cabled arm gripped against a light pole disappeared underneath the pink. Grigori had to dodge into a side alley himself, who couldn’t get all the flowers out of his armor.

But Cables would not be stopped. Whatever distance the pair gained was quickly subtracted as something soared through the air. Petals streaked behind it in an artistic manner. Perfect for the green energy infused in its limbs.

The Power Whip destroyed the street as it slammed back into the earth. Grigori heard it down the block. Despite the worry that ate into his nerves, he pressed on. His heavy footsteps echoed down the street, a steady tempo against the constant chaos far away.

---

Eris Halla

Rock erupted from the earth. Even as the Xurkitree reached for the duo, they were centimeters out of reach. And stone turned against the one that freed it from its shackles, which cracked the luminous bulb atop its head. Sparks splatter the scene, and arcs arch all over.

Even down the street, Grigori could feel the energy that started to build up inside its head.

How he desperately wanted to recall the beast. Forget Howard’s goal. Forget Eternatus. Was it worth the life of a little one? Howard’s friend?

But a tool did not disobey the whims of its owner. Not of the admin, but of the organization. Lightning threatened to tear Cables apart, and it aimed all its limbs to the Salamence. How it tried to keep itself together, yet failed miserably.

“Cables! Att–”

He could not see Eris. The sole mercy received from his command, when power threatened to tear apart the sky and all the stored electricity within the alien’s limbs shot straight to the runaway stray.

Failure was not an option.

---

Eris Halla