Hello everyone.
“Pokémonese” was such a success, that I have decided to go further, and write a sequel, which you see before you.
But if you are looking for a trainer fic about a young trainer who challenges Gyms in order to win a League title, forget it. The story behind this fic is more complicated.
I’m using the Diamond and Pearl games as a base, using some of the mythology from that world. This story also features some of the legacy from the anime.
And I’m also introducing a new concept that I don’t believe has been used before. Here’s what I’m willing to divulge. While the heroes of this story will not challenge Gym Leaders, they will challenge special trainers called Guardians. I guarantee, you have never seen trainers quite like this.
One promise before we start. I will NOT use any Fakemon. Since the new games have introduced over a hundred new species, for a total of 493, I see no need to. This is good news for some readers, bad news for others. Personally, I had little luck thinking up Fakemon, so I won’t use them.
So… On with the story…
Call me Starbuck.
What?
Expecting Ishmael to give you the introduction? Sorry, but, unfortunately, he couldn’t make it. I’m filling in for him. We’ll get to why in a few minutes.
Trust me, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me, so we’ll have time to get acquainted.
Now…
When Gestalt perished all those years ago, most folks thought that they’d seen the last of psychotic Pokémon villains. And in a way, they were right. Mewtwo hasn’t shown his face in ages, Rayquaza hasn’t decided to go on a rampage, and even better, crime syndicates like Magma, Aqua, Galactic, and even Rocket died out quickly after his death.
You’d think a new golden age would start… Sadly, that was not the case…
A new problem arose… It’s hard to pinpoint when, exactly, but it probably started about fifteen years or so after Gestalt’s death.
Folks call it the Twisting.
Got your attention, didn’t I?
What was the cause? No one is sure. Some blame pollution and global warming. Some say natural selection gone wrong. Some crazy theorists say that Gestalt’s vengeful spirit is to blame, and this is his ultimate revenge. Even crazier theorists say it’s a sign of the apocalypse, and that it foretells eventual doom.
Regardless of the cause, it started out slowly, as problems often do. There were cases of Pokémon who were once quite friendly and docile acting somewhat mean. A child might have tried to hug a cuddly-looking Eevee, only for it to get nasty and scratch him across the face.
It quickly got worse. Pokémon were becoming more feral, and more violent than ever before. The instances of Pokémon-related deaths doubled, and then doubled again. Pokémon battles between trainers became fiercer, and sometimes a trainer couldn’t keep his Pokémon from striking the opposing trainer. Sometimes, the trainer was even struck by his own Pokémon.
It spread like wildfire. From the lowliest of Caterpie to the strongest of Dragonite, Pokémon were degenerating into a wild and dangerous state.
Of course, certain groups tried to find the cause. Nurse Joy’s family examined every Pokémon closely, looking at every possibility for the change in behavior. The Joys became more numerous, but none of them could offer an answer.
The Pokémon Rangers tried solving the problem too. Within a year, their numbers doubled, and they even became stronger. But for each layer of the mystery they uncovered, they found ten more underneath.
Some famous trainers and researchers stepped in. Professor Oak was among them, but he had grown frail in his old age. Eventually, Ash Ketchum and Oak’s grandson Gary – two trainers whose Pokémon seemed strangely unaffected by the Twisting – looked for a cause, traveling to sites of power in Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh. They compiled information for three years, but it seems it stopped at a dead end.
They weren’t the only ones. In faraway Orre, some compared the Twisting to Shadow Pokémon. The two renowned heroes who had fought the Shadows took this seriously. Wes came out of retirement, and Michael eventually got involved. Their Pokémon also seemed able to resist the Twisting, and Wes had a theory as to why – most of their Pokémon used to be Shadow Pokémon, and having experienced the touch of evil once had acted as an antibody. The two worked separately at first, and together later. But they soon found that this affliction clearly was not related to the Shadows. The Relic Stone could do nothing to cure the Twisting, nor could the Purify Chamber… And Michael tried until it was on the same setting he had used to cure Lugia. After their work ended in failure, Wes introduced a frightening possibility… Perhaps Pokémon had become feral because they wanted to.
The world had to adjust. Gone were the days of kids beginning their Pokémon Journeys at age ten. The age requirement became sixteen, old enough to handle the new dangers. And trainers have become tougher to match the toughness of their Pokémon. If you didn’t toughen yourself, you wouldn’t last long.
But hope still existed. Not all Pokémon were affected by the Twisting. Some isolated groups were still the same as always, and those raised by humans from birth were still tame, and could understand love. There was hope that if Pokémon could resist the Twisting, it could be purged from the existing Pokémon.
And, one other thing… One trainer who researched the problem did make one valuable discovery. He said he might actually have a theory about how to end the Twisting and restore the natural order. According to his theory, the answer lay in the enigmatic Legendary Pokémon. These powerful creatures seemed unaffected by the Twisting… And people said prayers of thanks for that, shuddering to think what would happen if Kyogre or Groudon – or Heavens forbid, both at once – lost its sanity and lashed out at the nearest city. This trainer left with a strong lead, almost certain that the answer was in his grasp…
But there’s a problem…
While he was investigating his theory five years ago, Ishmael Conrad disappeared.
He hasn’t been seen since, which is why he isn’t here to greet you.
Those of you who read about his adventures are likely feeling worried right about now. Well, you can just imagine how I must feel…
Ishmael Conrad is my father…
POKÉMON
STORMING HEAVEN’S GATES
A fanfic by Brian “Dark Sage” Corvello
PROLOGUE
Introductions Aside
“Carnivine, finish it off with Power Whip!” shouted the trainer.
The Pokémon in front of her – a Grass Type whose looks suggested that nature was inspired by Little Shop of Horrors – grinned a grin that was typical for a Carnivine, one that was mostly teeth and not very pleasant. It floated into the air, hovering over the Donphan in front of it.
Its two leafy arms lashed forward like long tendrils, entangling the hapless Ground Type. The Donphan gave a cry as Carnivine pulled. Cheers came from the spectators – and there were a lot of them.
“Looks like Sandra’s Pokémon has come out on top in this match-up,” said an amplified voice from above. “This is one ferocious flytrap!”
The owner of the Donphan couldn’t do much except watch as his Donphan was body-slammed by the Grass Type. Carnivine finally let go, and Donphan made one last gasp before collapsing.
“Donphan, return…” said the trainer.
Donphan transformed into light and was sucked into its pokeball.
“What are you feeding that thing, Sandra?” asked the trainer.
“Do I ask you how you train your Pokémon?” asked Sandra. “It’s down to him and your last one now.”
“Sandra’s got him there,” said the announcer. “Starbuck is down to his last Pokémon. He has only one more in reserve. Let’s hope he has a good one.”
“Oh, I got a good one…” said Starbuck, taking another pokeball. “It’s a real showstopper!
“Come on out… Dusknoir!”
He threw the pokeball, and with a low, chilling moan, a dark creature flew out. It was a phantom Pokémon clothed in some sort of shroud, with a single, glaring, eye.
The audience fell silent… And then cheered again.
“Amazing!” shouted the announcer. “Starbuck has unveiled a new Pokémon… A Dusknoir, likely the most powerful Ghost Pokémon in the book!”
“Well, except for Giratina,” said the other announcer.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Ted,” said the first announcer. “There’s no proof that Giratina even exists.”
Carnivine faced Dusknoir. The referee waved his flags.
“Battle!” he shouted.
“Go! Grass Knot!” shouted Sandra.
“Use Shadow Sneak!” ordered Starbuck.
The two Pokémon charged at each other… And then Dusknoir vanished in a blur of darkness.
“Carnivine?” said the Grass Pokémon.
It looked back and forth.
Dusknoir appeared behind its foe, and slashed with a shadowy claw. The Bug Catcher Pokémon cried out in pain.
But it didn’t forget its trainer’s orders. It balled up its tendril into a fist, and punched the Ghost hard. Dusknoir groaned.
Starbuck was a little worried. He knew about Grass Knot. It did more damage to heavier Pokémon, and for a Pokémon made of ectoplasm, Dusknoir was surprisingly heavy.
“Dusknoir, Shadow Punch,” he ordered.
Dusknoir lifted its fist, and it was enveloped by shadowy darkness. It threw a punch at its foe, and Carnivine toppled over, bouncing twice on the ground.
Carnivine frowned and floated off the ground, not at all happy with this development…
“Hate to do this, Starbuck,” said Sandra, “but I’m going home with the trophy this time. Carnivine, Crunch.”
Carnivine bore its teeth, and flew towards Dusknoir…
Then Dusknoir’s single eye glowed with fiery light, and Carnivine stopped in its tracks.
It held its head with its vines.
“Carnivine…” it groaned.
“That was a Confuse Ray!” shouted Sandra. “But… you didn’t say anything!”
“I’ve been training my more powerful Pokémon with a little trick,” said Starbuck. “Some of them have learned to use a countering move automatically whenever they’re threatened by an attack that would hurt them badly. This guy learned the trick quickly.
“Now to end this… Dusknoir… Night Shade!”
Dusknoir glowed with an aura of pure darkness. It shot the darkness at Carnivine, and the plant howled, before collapsing in a heap.
The referee waved his flag.
“Carnivine is unable to battle,” he said. “Winner of the Seedot Springs Mayfest Tournament… Starbuck Conrad!”
The crowd cheered.
“Thank you everyone,” said Starbuck. “Thank you… And by the way, I can assure you, Giratina does indeed exist… My mom saw it with her own eyes. But that’s a story I simply don’t have time for right now.”
The TV panned to a close-up of young Starbuck, a nineteen-year-old young man who might have gotten his looks from both his parents if he hadn’t taken such pains to change them. His long hair was chestnut-brown and tied in a ponytail that reached to his waist. His muscular frame was covered by a leather jacket and blue jeans, and he wore a golden Celtic cross around his neck – not due to any religious view, he just thought it looked nice.
He sighed… Another tournament won, another trophy to take up space…
* * * * * * * * * *
He checked his watch as he started to walk home. Two o’clock.
At least for this tournament, he didn’t have to go far. His mother’s off-season home was in Seedot Springs. Of course, his mother was now in their “real” home in Blueberry Cove, and he was planning to visit soon.
Maybe he would, as soon as…
His train of thought was interrupted as a small form leapt up and snatched the baseball cap off of his head.
He turned around in rage, and saw a small Pokémon with long ears and a cottontail hopping away with it.
“Give that back, you thieving rodent!” shouted Starbuck.
He started to chase the filching Buneary.
Why did this always happen when his pokemon were exhausted?
“You little thief!” he shouted. “When I get my hands on you…”
He almost was on top of it. He made a grab for it…
Unfortunately, the Buneary leapt up, and he fell on his face.
He watched as it hopped away.
“One of these days, I’m gonna make you into a purse!” he shouted. “You hear me? A purse!”
He hated that thing… Every time he got a new hat, that crazy Buneary was sure to swipe it. Where was it keeping them?
* * * * * * * * * *
He picked up his mail before going into the house. Two flyers, one bill, and a personal letter – no return address.
He stuffed it in his pocket. He’d look at it later.
He unlocked the door and walked inside.
“Dawn! Dusk!” he shouted. “I’m home!”
Two small, catlike Pokémon came running down the stairs. One had silvery fur, and one had dark fur.
An Espeon and Umbreon… A brother and a sister of strange origins.
It is very, very rare that a Pokémon twins are born, two Pokémon hatched from the same egg. A breeder would tell you it happens once in every one-hundred thousand cases. But that was the case with the two Eevee that would evolve into these two. Their parents were the rarest evolutions of Eevee. Their father was a Glaceon, and their mother was a Leafeon. An Eevee can only evolve into these forms if they are present at certain locations.
Starbuck got the egg as part of a deal, and it hatched quickly into a male and a female. After a few weeks of training, Starbuck was faced with a decision.
With an Eevee, it is usually a good idea to evolve it as soon as you are able. Starbuck easily obtained a Fire Stone, a Water Stone, and a Thunder Stone. Which two evolutions would he choose for his Pokémon, and which would he not have? When a Pokémon evolved, it was a one-way trip. It could never go back to what it once was…
Strangely, before he made the decision, it was made for him. He worked with them all day training, and to his surprise, as soon as the sun went down, the male evolved into an Umbreon. He was overjoyed, but tired. He fell asleep, and was awoken the next morning by the Umbreon tugging on his sleeve. He woke up, and saw the female in the morning light. It was evolving too, and it evolved into an Espeon.
He then gave them names. He named the Espeon Dawn, and the Umbreon Dusk.
He loved these two. And even better, unlike so many of the wild Pokémon he had caught, the Twisting seemed unable to touch their souls…
Right now, they were happy to see him, but he could tell they were also hungry.
“Okay, okay…” he said.
He quickly opened a closet which was devoted solely to Pokémon food. He filled two bowls and set them down.
As they ate, he clicked on the TV. A news report was starting.
“We repeat our top story,” said the female anchorman. “Officer Jenny of Starmie Beach has foiled a brazen robbery, in which a male and female Pokémon trainer attempted to make off with a set of Pokémon fossils that were being prepared for restoration. According to the owner, these fossils were the remains of the recently discovered Cranidos and Shieldon.
“The as-yet unidentified thieves are believed to be low-ranking members of the criminal syndicate known as Rocket Reborn, an organization that is believed to have been active for five years. However, it has recently become more prevalent in the Toreen underworld. As far as is known, their goals seem similar to the original Team Rocket – obtaining Pokémon through illicit means. Fortunately, the group’s mysterious leader has not yet come close to reaching the influence that the late mobster Giovanni once had.”
“Giovanni…” muttered Starbuck. “Man, whoever killed him did the world a big favor…”
The death of the leader of Team Rocket was one of the biggest mysteries of the Pokémon world. Some say it was an assassin from one of Team Rocket’s rival gangs. Others were almost certain that Jessie killed him as part of her final plan for revenge (a much more complicated story – suffice to say, both she and James were presumed dead as well, although Jessie’s final scheme was epic). All that was known that was Giovanni was found dead in his office, a bullet though his head. Both the murder weapon and any evidence was taken, and the killer stole any Pokémon he had with him at the time, including the Persian that was his constant companion.
“The two thieves are being held on ten-thousand dollars bond,” said the reporter. “More on this story as it develops.”
Starbuck wasn’t worried. It seemed that wannabe groups of thugs popped up all the time over the years. But none of them even reached Team Galactic’s power (although a few were as eccentric as Galactic), let alone Rocket. Every two years or so, you’d hear about the latest group… Team Light, Team Relic, Team Triad, Team Primordial, and even dumber names. None of them ever got very far.
The phone rang. He muted the TV.
“Y’ello?” he said answering it.
“Starbuck?” said the voice on the other end. “Glad I caught you…”
Starbuck frowned. Percival.
Percival Ambrose Fredericks the 3rd. If he hadn’t been born into a wealthy family, his name would have gotten him beaten up in school a lot. Percival had so much money, he spent it on the strangest projects. He claimed that it all would benefit mankind in some way, but a lot of the projects he funded were impractical or impossible.
For example, he financed a project once that would, if successful, alter a Pokémon’s Odor Sleuth ability to sniff out narcotics like some ordinary dogs could. He reasoned that Odor Sleuth was even better than a normal sense of smell, and a Pokémon could be trained to detect illegal substances well enough that no dealer could ever hide them. A few police agencies took enough interest for him to work on it, but it proved harder than he thought. While some Pokémon looked like dogs, they were different creatures entirely. The plan never reached fruition, and ended as most of his plans did, in failure.
“What do you want, Percy?” asked Starbuck.
“Percival,” replied the caller. “Starbuck, I want to make you an offer. I have something big in the works, and I need your help.”
“What now, Percy?” asked Starbuck. “It can’t be that big.”
“Oh, trust me, it is,” said Percival. “I can’t say much over the phone. But I want to give you a chance…”
He paused.
“…to pick up where your father left off…”
Starbuck stopped short.
“Got your attention, didn’t I?” asked Percival. “Meet me at my chateau in Blueberry Cove at seven o’clock tonight. I trust you can get here by then…”
Starbuck looked at his watch.
“Yeah, I can manage…” he said.
“Good…” replied Percival. “Uh, you aren’t allergic to shellfish, are you?”
“No, no, that’s fine…” said Starbuck.
He hung up.
Dad… he thought.
He paused.
He took his wallet out of his pocket and opened it, looking at a picture. There was a picture of himself when he was five years old, with his parents, along with his dad’s Ninetales and Snorlax.
Five years, and I don’t even know what happened to you… And now I can… Pick up where you left off?
He looked and saw Dawn and Dusk looking at him.
“Guys…” he said, “we’re going to Blueberry Cove!”
He held up two pokeballs. Dawn and Dusk leapt towards them, and they opened, sucking them in.
* * * * * * * * * *
Starbuck looked over himself.
Six pokeballs strapped to his belt…
Check.
Pokedex…
Check.
Backpack…
Check.
Empty pokeballs…
Check.
Potions and remedies…
Check.
He placed his helmet on his head, and leapt on his motorcycle and started it up.
With a roar, he sped down the road, heading for the exit from Seedot Springs.
He had no idea that the hat-stealing Buneary was stowed away in the seat compartment, chuckling softly.
I may not know what happened to you dad… thought Starbuck. You may be dead with your bones lying at the bottom of the sea… You may have been taken prisoner by someone who you crossed…
But this I promise…
Whatever happened…
I will know the truth!
Coming up next:
All stories have a beginning, as some folks say, and next chapter, this one begins. Starbuck learns a few things, and a snag threatens his plans before they can even begin. Chapter One, “Myth-Information”, is coming soon…