“Metagross, Meteor Mash!”
“Son of a- Espeon, Reflect! Umbreon, Confuse Ray!”
Hibiki, who was closest to Wes’s motorcycle, ducked headfirst into the sidecar and plunged his hand under the seat. He felt something cool and smooth touch his fingers, and came up holding a gadget with the texture of a metallic baseball bat. It looked like half a mechanical arm, which might have provided armor protection from his outer shoulder to his hand. One thing was for sure: it was a lot heavier than the plastic imitation he had picked up before in Krane Laboratories. This time, it was real. He was holding the long-sought-after Snag Machine right in his hands.
I can’t believe it. The Snag Machine was right here, and Kenta and I walked directly past it on our way in. And Wes . . . he’s been pretending he didn’t have it, yet it probably has never left his side since he went into hiding.
“Quickly!” barked Kenta, beckoning Hibiki to Wes’s side. “Bring it here!”
Umbreon was all by himself, now. A skid mark on the ground from the battlefield to the stream, showed where Espeon had disappeared to. Metagross had punched the psychic pokémon all the way over to the water with Meteor Mash, and despite the Reflect shield that had been thrown up in advance, it didn’t seem to be enough. Espeon was not coming back to Umbreon’s side. Even as Hibiki made it to Wes’s shoulder, he witnessed the frigid cold as Maikeru’s Glaceon blasted Umbreon in the face with an unrelenting Ice Beam. Wes was breathing like a bull, teeth clenched and bared. In another flash of light, Bolt was on the field in Espeon’s place, and Kenta also stood by Wes’s side. He turned to his partner, as Hibiki held the Snag Machine out to offer him.
“Go for it, Wes! Capture that Metagross. We’ll turn it right back on him!”
Maikeru shot Kenta a very ugly smile. “Go ahead and listen to him, Wes,” he said through his teeth. “It’ll mean life in prison. You’ll never see the sun again.”
Wes held up Kenta’s Master Ball, and looked down at the Snag Machine that Hibiki was holding out to offer him. “I’m not afraid of a threat,” he said, raising the ball. A moment later, he dropped it into Hibiki’s hands, and Hibiki, caught by surprise, fumbled to grab it. “But I swore an oath to never steal another pokémon again. I won’t break it.” He glared at Maikeru. “Not even to put a self-righteous punk like you in your place.”
Maikeru shrugged. “I can live with that.” He pointed his finger at Wes’s Umbreon. “And now, Metagross-”
In a burst of red light, Metagross shrank before him until it had disappeared into the Master Ball that had been thrown. The ball whirled backwards from the force of its energy withdrawl, right into the outstretched hand of Hibiki. Maikeru, Wes, and Kenta all turned their astonished gazes at the young trainer, who remained as he stood in catching position.
“Keep your oath,” said Hibiki, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it hurt. “But we have a job to finish.”
“Of course you do.” Wes smiled fiercely at him. “I’m passing the torch to you.”
“What is this nonsense?” demanded Maikeru, still flabbergasted as Metagross rematerialized before him, now on his opposite side. “Do the words ‘life in prison’ mean nothing to you? Do you think you’ll get off for being a minor?”
“Don’t be so quick to punish,” said Hibiki, fitting the Snag Machine more snugly on his arm. “You’re talking to the guy who saw Metagross’s real trainer face-to-face.” His heart was still pounding, but the initial nervous fear was being replaced by a more emboldening feeling: indignant anger. “I’d like to know what you were doing with this pokémon in your possession. Steven Stone still thinks he’s being rehabilitated to survive in the wild. I could tell he missed his Metagross, but he let him go anyway.” Hibiki’s eyes slitted. “So before you even consider labeling me the thief, you’d better explain to me why you aren’t in a juvenile court right now, awaiting YOUR punishment.”
A whooshing noise issued from overhead. For a moment, Hibiki thought that it was just a gust of wind, but a moment later, no less than a dozen men in police uniforms were dropping down into the vicinity, each riding upon his very own Pidgeot. “Oh, you ignorant criminal,” chided Maikeru with a mock sympathetic smile on his face. “Do you still not understand?”
“Sir,” said one of the policemen, saluting Maikeru as Hibiki watched in shock, “are you all right? Did any of them get away?”
“No, Sherles, they intend to fight,” replied the younger trainer.
Kenta appeared next to Hibiki. “I thought it was odd that a kid his age was permitted pokémon, ever since the lab incident!” he whispered forcefully. “There’s only one explanation for this. He’s got to have direct ties with G.R.I.P.!”
In an instant, twelve pokeballs flew in their direction, and in twelve bursts of white light, twelve enormous Arcanine crouched before them in battle stances. “Formation Quad Cerberus!” shouted the Officer Jenny of the battalion. “Prepare to engage! Rogue trainers, withdraw your pokémon immediately!”
For a second, Hibiki, Kenta, and Wes just looked at each other. Then Wes held out his arm and recalled Umbreon back into its pokeball. “I can’t do it,” he said bitterly, turning away from the Nyna brothers. “I’m tired. I was only supposed to go to a funeral today. And I don’t know if Espeon is okay. I need to go check on him. I’m sorry . . . you’re on your own now.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” said Kenta calmly, looking skyward at the gathering clouds. “I think the spirit of Mithos Eagun is with us. It looks like rain.” Even as he said it, the wind picked up, and Hibiki felt the first drop on his nose. Kenta looked past the massive forms of Metagross and Bolt, past the brigade of Arcanine police dogs, and straight at the blue-dressed men and women who were ready to order them. Over the sound of the wind, he raised his voice, letting it boom so loudly that even Hibiki was amazed at his frequency level.
“Ladies and gentlemen wearing police uniforms, who have been willingly or unwillingly lied to! You have placed your trust in the hands of a pot who has declared the kettle black. In doing so, you have also dishonored a noble man’s funeral.” Lightning flashed overhead, and Hibiki could see the growing anger outlined in Kenta’s face. “I have no intention of stealing any of your pokémon,” he announced, “but this is your first and last warning to leave us in peace. If you don’t, we will force you out.”
Right on cue, thunder rolled at the end of his words. The officers on the other side of the field glanced at each other, some looking hesitant, then Maikeru’s words cut into the midst of their doubt sharply. “Oh, for crying out loud- don’t let him jerk your around like that! It’s his Zapdos that’s causing the weather to turn like this. This is nothing but special effects!”
“Yeah, but this rain . . .” remarked another officer, holding out her hand as the droplets fell in increasing succession. “It’ll interfere with the effectiveness of our attacks . . .”
“So power up! Quad Cerberus, get that Flash Fire working!”
The twelve Arcanine obediently turned on each other and blasted one another with breaths of flame, powering one another up. From beside Hibiki, Kenta gave a hiss of frustration through his teeth. “Tsk . . . they mean business.” He glanced urgently at Hibiki. “You captured Metagross. Until we can get him back to Steven, he’s under your command, now. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste!”
“Right!” said Hibiki, bracing himself as the excitement of battle pounded through his veins. He focused his attention on Metagross, hardly daring to believe he was actually giving it orders like a real trainer. Okay, let’s see . . . they’re Fire-types, so they’ll be strong against Steel. Steven must have been aware of this weakness, so what might he have stored up as a counter-measure? Wait- I’ve got it!
“Let’s see what you can do!” barked Hibiki in his most authoritative voice. “Hit them all at once. Earthquake!”
Metagross’s response was immediate and devastating. With both front arms, the living tank pokémon pummeled the earth with the force of a runaway train. The resulting shockwave threw every standing person off their feet, and beat them mercilessly on the ground against rocks and sharp clay. To the left, trees lifted straight off the ground so that their roots were exposed, and on the right, the bridge leading into Agate Village bent to an almost thirty degree angle. Hibiki tripped painfully and dizzily to his feet, and stared at the row of Arcanine now lying in heaps before him. They were all down.
Wait. No, they weren’t. As the humans regained their footing, and the Flying-type pokémon touched back down, the Quad Cerberus unit stumbled back onto all fours, each dog with its tongue lolled out, breathing heavily. Somebody on the police side shouted “Flame Morter!”, and suddenly, Hibiki’s whole world lit up. In a blast of blinding orange, and a radically intense wave of heat, the twelve Arcanine focused their fire breaths into one enormous flamethrower which enveloped Metagross until he could no longer be seen. When the police dogs finally let up, Metagross lay motionless on the ground, glowing with a red aura from the incredible heat. Stunned to the point that he could barely feel the scalding burns on his face, Hibiki numbly held out his Master Ball and withdrew the beaten Metagross. He held up Snorlax’s ball automatically, but somebody’s arm thrusted out to stop him. It was Kenta- and he was livid.
“Twelve Flamethrowers to one pokémon? Really?” he said softly, poisonously. “Have you no regard for the line between unconsciousness and death?” His voice rose to a battle roar. “Then neither will we! Bolt!”
He didn’t need to say anything else. The Salamence was in the sky for just a moment, then dive-bombed the ground for an earth-shaking impact. The force of this Earthquake tore Agate Bridge completely from the battlefield side of the ground and scattered its planks into the water, while the surrounding trees toppled like dominos, sending roots popping and mounds of dirt flying. Hibiki glanced around worriedly, but no trees came crashing his way. The police force, conversely, hurried to recall their defeated Arcanine before a large tree trunk came crackling down right where they had fallen.
“Eat it,” muttered Kenta, watching the sight with his arms crossed unapologetically. Wes appeared beside him, his eyes wide with wonder, and he looked at Kenta with a new awe that bordered on fear. “Goddamn, son,” he whispered. “You’re a warlord.”
“Did you find your Espeon?”
“Yeah, he’s okay. He got punched into the stream, so the earthquakes didn’t affect him much. But Jesus Murphy,” Wes continued, almost dazed, “that Salamence is a living calamity! Not even Evice’s Salamence could dish out that level of magnitude!”
“If you think he’s something, you should see my brother’s Snorlax,” said Kenta with a small smile, turning to Hibiki. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Hint, hint.”
On the other side of the field, the officers were in a rare state of disarray. “What do we do?” said one frantically. “These children just took down every last of of our Arcanine.”
“So let’s attack with our Pidgeot! They’re relying on Ground-type moves to win.”
“Son of a- Espeon, Reflect! Umbreon, Confuse Ray!”
Hibiki, who was closest to Wes’s motorcycle, ducked headfirst into the sidecar and plunged his hand under the seat. He felt something cool and smooth touch his fingers, and came up holding a gadget with the texture of a metallic baseball bat. It looked like half a mechanical arm, which might have provided armor protection from his outer shoulder to his hand. One thing was for sure: it was a lot heavier than the plastic imitation he had picked up before in Krane Laboratories. This time, it was real. He was holding the long-sought-after Snag Machine right in his hands.
I can’t believe it. The Snag Machine was right here, and Kenta and I walked directly past it on our way in. And Wes . . . he’s been pretending he didn’t have it, yet it probably has never left his side since he went into hiding.
“Quickly!” barked Kenta, beckoning Hibiki to Wes’s side. “Bring it here!”
Umbreon was all by himself, now. A skid mark on the ground from the battlefield to the stream, showed where Espeon had disappeared to. Metagross had punched the psychic pokémon all the way over to the water with Meteor Mash, and despite the Reflect shield that had been thrown up in advance, it didn’t seem to be enough. Espeon was not coming back to Umbreon’s side. Even as Hibiki made it to Wes’s shoulder, he witnessed the frigid cold as Maikeru’s Glaceon blasted Umbreon in the face with an unrelenting Ice Beam. Wes was breathing like a bull, teeth clenched and bared. In another flash of light, Bolt was on the field in Espeon’s place, and Kenta also stood by Wes’s side. He turned to his partner, as Hibiki held the Snag Machine out to offer him.
“Go for it, Wes! Capture that Metagross. We’ll turn it right back on him!”
Maikeru shot Kenta a very ugly smile. “Go ahead and listen to him, Wes,” he said through his teeth. “It’ll mean life in prison. You’ll never see the sun again.”
Wes held up Kenta’s Master Ball, and looked down at the Snag Machine that Hibiki was holding out to offer him. “I’m not afraid of a threat,” he said, raising the ball. A moment later, he dropped it into Hibiki’s hands, and Hibiki, caught by surprise, fumbled to grab it. “But I swore an oath to never steal another pokémon again. I won’t break it.” He glared at Maikeru. “Not even to put a self-righteous punk like you in your place.”
Maikeru shrugged. “I can live with that.” He pointed his finger at Wes’s Umbreon. “And now, Metagross-”
In a burst of red light, Metagross shrank before him until it had disappeared into the Master Ball that had been thrown. The ball whirled backwards from the force of its energy withdrawl, right into the outstretched hand of Hibiki. Maikeru, Wes, and Kenta all turned their astonished gazes at the young trainer, who remained as he stood in catching position.
“Keep your oath,” said Hibiki, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it hurt. “But we have a job to finish.”
“Of course you do.” Wes smiled fiercely at him. “I’m passing the torch to you.”
“What is this nonsense?” demanded Maikeru, still flabbergasted as Metagross rematerialized before him, now on his opposite side. “Do the words ‘life in prison’ mean nothing to you? Do you think you’ll get off for being a minor?”
“Don’t be so quick to punish,” said Hibiki, fitting the Snag Machine more snugly on his arm. “You’re talking to the guy who saw Metagross’s real trainer face-to-face.” His heart was still pounding, but the initial nervous fear was being replaced by a more emboldening feeling: indignant anger. “I’d like to know what you were doing with this pokémon in your possession. Steven Stone still thinks he’s being rehabilitated to survive in the wild. I could tell he missed his Metagross, but he let him go anyway.” Hibiki’s eyes slitted. “So before you even consider labeling me the thief, you’d better explain to me why you aren’t in a juvenile court right now, awaiting YOUR punishment.”
A whooshing noise issued from overhead. For a moment, Hibiki thought that it was just a gust of wind, but a moment later, no less than a dozen men in police uniforms were dropping down into the vicinity, each riding upon his very own Pidgeot. “Oh, you ignorant criminal,” chided Maikeru with a mock sympathetic smile on his face. “Do you still not understand?”
“Sir,” said one of the policemen, saluting Maikeru as Hibiki watched in shock, “are you all right? Did any of them get away?”
“No, Sherles, they intend to fight,” replied the younger trainer.
Kenta appeared next to Hibiki. “I thought it was odd that a kid his age was permitted pokémon, ever since the lab incident!” he whispered forcefully. “There’s only one explanation for this. He’s got to have direct ties with G.R.I.P.!”
In an instant, twelve pokeballs flew in their direction, and in twelve bursts of white light, twelve enormous Arcanine crouched before them in battle stances. “Formation Quad Cerberus!” shouted the Officer Jenny of the battalion. “Prepare to engage! Rogue trainers, withdraw your pokémon immediately!”
For a second, Hibiki, Kenta, and Wes just looked at each other. Then Wes held out his arm and recalled Umbreon back into its pokeball. “I can’t do it,” he said bitterly, turning away from the Nyna brothers. “I’m tired. I was only supposed to go to a funeral today. And I don’t know if Espeon is okay. I need to go check on him. I’m sorry . . . you’re on your own now.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” said Kenta calmly, looking skyward at the gathering clouds. “I think the spirit of Mithos Eagun is with us. It looks like rain.” Even as he said it, the wind picked up, and Hibiki felt the first drop on his nose. Kenta looked past the massive forms of Metagross and Bolt, past the brigade of Arcanine police dogs, and straight at the blue-dressed men and women who were ready to order them. Over the sound of the wind, he raised his voice, letting it boom so loudly that even Hibiki was amazed at his frequency level.
“Ladies and gentlemen wearing police uniforms, who have been willingly or unwillingly lied to! You have placed your trust in the hands of a pot who has declared the kettle black. In doing so, you have also dishonored a noble man’s funeral.” Lightning flashed overhead, and Hibiki could see the growing anger outlined in Kenta’s face. “I have no intention of stealing any of your pokémon,” he announced, “but this is your first and last warning to leave us in peace. If you don’t, we will force you out.”
Right on cue, thunder rolled at the end of his words. The officers on the other side of the field glanced at each other, some looking hesitant, then Maikeru’s words cut into the midst of their doubt sharply. “Oh, for crying out loud- don’t let him jerk your around like that! It’s his Zapdos that’s causing the weather to turn like this. This is nothing but special effects!”
“Yeah, but this rain . . .” remarked another officer, holding out her hand as the droplets fell in increasing succession. “It’ll interfere with the effectiveness of our attacks . . .”
“So power up! Quad Cerberus, get that Flash Fire working!”
The twelve Arcanine obediently turned on each other and blasted one another with breaths of flame, powering one another up. From beside Hibiki, Kenta gave a hiss of frustration through his teeth. “Tsk . . . they mean business.” He glanced urgently at Hibiki. “You captured Metagross. Until we can get him back to Steven, he’s under your command, now. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste!”
“Right!” said Hibiki, bracing himself as the excitement of battle pounded through his veins. He focused his attention on Metagross, hardly daring to believe he was actually giving it orders like a real trainer. Okay, let’s see . . . they’re Fire-types, so they’ll be strong against Steel. Steven must have been aware of this weakness, so what might he have stored up as a counter-measure? Wait- I’ve got it!
“Let’s see what you can do!” barked Hibiki in his most authoritative voice. “Hit them all at once. Earthquake!”
Metagross’s response was immediate and devastating. With both front arms, the living tank pokémon pummeled the earth with the force of a runaway train. The resulting shockwave threw every standing person off their feet, and beat them mercilessly on the ground against rocks and sharp clay. To the left, trees lifted straight off the ground so that their roots were exposed, and on the right, the bridge leading into Agate Village bent to an almost thirty degree angle. Hibiki tripped painfully and dizzily to his feet, and stared at the row of Arcanine now lying in heaps before him. They were all down.
Wait. No, they weren’t. As the humans regained their footing, and the Flying-type pokémon touched back down, the Quad Cerberus unit stumbled back onto all fours, each dog with its tongue lolled out, breathing heavily. Somebody on the police side shouted “Flame Morter!”, and suddenly, Hibiki’s whole world lit up. In a blast of blinding orange, and a radically intense wave of heat, the twelve Arcanine focused their fire breaths into one enormous flamethrower which enveloped Metagross until he could no longer be seen. When the police dogs finally let up, Metagross lay motionless on the ground, glowing with a red aura from the incredible heat. Stunned to the point that he could barely feel the scalding burns on his face, Hibiki numbly held out his Master Ball and withdrew the beaten Metagross. He held up Snorlax’s ball automatically, but somebody’s arm thrusted out to stop him. It was Kenta- and he was livid.
“Twelve Flamethrowers to one pokémon? Really?” he said softly, poisonously. “Have you no regard for the line between unconsciousness and death?” His voice rose to a battle roar. “Then neither will we! Bolt!”
He didn’t need to say anything else. The Salamence was in the sky for just a moment, then dive-bombed the ground for an earth-shaking impact. The force of this Earthquake tore Agate Bridge completely from the battlefield side of the ground and scattered its planks into the water, while the surrounding trees toppled like dominos, sending roots popping and mounds of dirt flying. Hibiki glanced around worriedly, but no trees came crashing his way. The police force, conversely, hurried to recall their defeated Arcanine before a large tree trunk came crackling down right where they had fallen.
“Eat it,” muttered Kenta, watching the sight with his arms crossed unapologetically. Wes appeared beside him, his eyes wide with wonder, and he looked at Kenta with a new awe that bordered on fear. “Goddamn, son,” he whispered. “You’re a warlord.”
“Did you find your Espeon?”
“Yeah, he’s okay. He got punched into the stream, so the earthquakes didn’t affect him much. But Jesus Murphy,” Wes continued, almost dazed, “that Salamence is a living calamity! Not even Evice’s Salamence could dish out that level of magnitude!”
“If you think he’s something, you should see my brother’s Snorlax,” said Kenta with a small smile, turning to Hibiki. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Hint, hint.”
On the other side of the field, the officers were in a rare state of disarray. “What do we do?” said one frantically. “These children just took down every last of of our Arcanine.”
“So let’s attack with our Pidgeot! They’re relying on Ground-type moves to win.”