The Debt Collector

Darkrai had flown through the night, only stopping briefly, to study his new form, or test his powers. It was astonishing. The speed and strength he’d acquired. The near endless abilities. The vision, oh, the vision. It was as if he’d been looking through blurred glass. Now, everything was clear. There was no doubt, or regret. There would be only justice.

His destination finally coming into view, Darkrai felt his pulse quicken. He flew towards the top of the building and lightly set down upon it’s peak. ‘I like what you’ve done with the place. Very clean.’

A large blue Pokemon, covered in metal armour, stood at the tower’s edge, watching the rising sun. It didn’t respond, didn’t move.

Throwing his arms wide, Darkrai yelled, ‘Dialga, I’m here to collect on your debt.’

It’s voice heavy, Dialga answered, ‘you would undo everything Forrest gave his life to achieve?’

Darkrai studied his non-existent nails. ‘In a heartbeat.’

When Dialga didn’t answer, Darkrai felt his temper flare. ‘You don’t care. Forrest, Grovyle, Celebi, they gave up everything saving you, and you don’t even care!’

‘Stopping the world’s paralysis came at great cost-‘

‘How would you know?’ Screamed Darkrai. ‘That cost was the man I called brother! That cost was my friend, and a mentor. That cost was betrayal and suffering and I bore all of it! Look at me, Dialga. Look at me!’

It’s footsteps slow, Dialga turned, looking pitifully upon what once was Flip, proud member of Wigglytuff’s guild.

Darkrai tore at his skin, shadows being cleaved away in slithers under his sharp claws. ‘I paid the cost and this is all that’s left! I tried to be strong, like Forrest, but I can’t. And I searched this whole damn planet looking for the last surviving human and found nothing! After everything I gave, I deserve better.’

Dialga hung it’s head; it knew what happened next, and it couldn’t bear to look. ‘When someone is drowning, you have to be careful in saving them. A scared person will grab you, and drag you both under. Flip, you’re brother has been with you. He saw you suffering. He reached out, and you both drowned.’

Dialga had spoken plainly. Yet, Darkrai couldn’t see it. Consumed by sorrow, Flip, the kind and heroic explorer, was dead. All that remained was Darkrai, and the lingering desperation to have his brother back.

‘Forrest is gone,’ Darkrai whispered, his eyes downcast. ‘But I’ll see him again soon.’

Darkrai pressed his hands together, feeling power swell between them. With a shout, he released it and darkness burst forth. Shadows leapt from Temporal Tower and wrapped around Dialga, chaining it in place.

Moving towards the spire, Darkrai gouged the Time Gears from their rightful place and dropped them into the shadow at his feet, where they disappeared. Then, with menace in his gleaming eye, Darkrai moved towards Dialga.

The ruler of time shook it’s head sadly. ‘The relic fragment chooses it’s owner; someone pure of heart. Would it still choose you now?’

Pressing a finger against Dialga’s forehead, Darkrai forced his dark power into Dialga. The steel dragon struggled for a moment, pulling against it’s constraints. Then, it stilled. The blue stone on Dialga’s chest began to glow red and the normally blue light that pulsed from it’s body coursed orange.

‘Primal Dialga,’ crowed Darkrai. ‘You serve me!’

Tossing its head, Dialga roared mightily, a shockwave bursting out from it. The explosion shattered the foundations of Temporal Tower, the monument collapsed, and with it, so did time itself.

A wave of shadows burst from the rubble and raced across the Earth. In it’s wake, only a world of cold, dark, stillness remained. In an instant, the sun went dark, the wind froze, and the planet was completely paralyzed.

Technically, no one was harmed by it. For reasons beyond Darkrai’s understanding, the planet’s paralysis failed to affect living creatures. All Pokemon would remain alive and unharmed, for now. The oncoming panic and inevitable destruction, well, people were bound to be hurt, but that didn’t deter Darkrai. After all, they wouldn’t remember it.

At Darkrai’s bidding, Dialga leapt them both into the past. Now, standing atop an unblemished Temporal Tower, Darkrai looked out over the horizon and imagined he could see a young Wooper arriving in Treasure Town for the first time.

Turning away, Darkrai ripped the Time Gears from their pedestal and set off to hide them across the continent. This was how it had to be. With the future collapsed, Forrest would inevitably appear, and find his way to the past, where he would meet Flip. Eventually, the pair would gather the Time Gears and return them to Temporal Tower, preventing the planet’s paralysis. Then, when the restored future tried to claim Forrest, Darkrai would intervene, and somehow, save his friend. With Forrest still around, Flip wouldn’t suffer so dearly, and he would never become this. Darkrai would be reborn as Flip once more, in a perfect future, with Forrest beside him. Then, all of this, would be nothing more than a bad dream.

Unbeknownst to Darkrai, back in the future, the firstfruits of his plan were already budding. In a forest village, called Virida, a wounded Lucario worked slowly, cleaning her house, desperate to restore it.

The shadowy creature that had burst forth from her home had shattered furniture, damaged the floors, and walls. Lucario didn’t doubt the sudden stillness in the air was his fault, and all she could do was sweep away the rubble, and hope to tuck the dread in her stomach under the rug.

Eventually, Lucario collapsed, a quiet snoring mess, nursing a bruised arm, and busted ribs. She didn’t notice as a small pink Pokemon flew into the home. With a look of pity, the Pokemon touched Lucario’s unconscious body and as if time moved backwards, Lucario’s injuries were healed.

Then, with a smile on her face, the Pokemon flew towards the table, where it gazed upon Vine’s sleeping form. Feeling tears well in her eyes, Celebi reached a hand towards Vine, and time rewound on the friendly ghost.

‘I’m sorry,’ Celebi whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Thoughts of Forrest, and Grovyle, and Flip, passed through Celebi’s mind, but she didn’t try to shut them out. Instead, she found herself loving those memories, clinging to them, and the pain in her heart became sharper.

‘For giving you this burden again, I’m sorry.’

Fluttering backwards, into the shadow of the trees, Celebi watched as Vine’s body glowed, flashing a golden light: The last light this dreary world would know.

When the light faded, Phantump was gone, and a human boy lay in his place. Clutching at his head, the boy sat up and groaned. He looked about, and his eyes grew wide. Stumbling from the table, he tripped, and dropped to the floor.

Crawling desperately, he struggled outside, fighting to get his legs under him. His eyes searching, memories came racing back and he felt something which carried dreadful familiarity.

It had happened again. During his youth, Forrest had gone to bed one night, unaware that anything was wrong. When, he awoke, he did so as a Phantump. A lost little ghost, in a vast forest. Something had wiped out all of humanity, and Forrest had awoken with nothing but his memories, and the knowledge that he was alone.

Now, it had happened again. Somehow, he’d turned from a Phantump back into a human, and he was alone once more. The only difference, last time, Forrest had slept through the event which threatened to erase all life. Now, he was right in the thick of it.

Flip was nowhere to be found, and without knowing what had happened since that night when he fell into his short coma, Forrest was unsure what to do.

All around him were gaggles of panicked Pokemon. Forrest found himself able to understand them, perhaps due to his time as a Phantump, but none were interested in speaking to him. This fleshy stranger, unlike anything they’d seen before, was an unknown. Could he be behind the stilling of the rivers, and the lack of wind?

Thinking it wise, the residents of Virida chased him from the village, and Forrest walked through the endless night. Eventually, he stumbled across a pond and became aware of just how thirsty he was. Falling to his knees, he cupped his hands and drank gratefully, noting how the water he dropped didn’t fall, merely hung in the air.

Forrest tried to check his reflection in the water, but even that was denied him. Staring into the pond’s shallow waters, only the cold dark surface greeted him.

Rolling onto his butt, Forrest wrapped his arms around his legs and dropped his head between his knees. ‘Flip, where are you? I look different, but it’s still me.’

‘Argh!’ Forrest yelled, running his hands through his hair. ‘This isn’t getting me anywhere.’

Standing, Forrest looked about, struggling to discern which direction the Snowbelle Mountains were. Flip might be gone, but Forrest at least knew where to find Nick.

Unable to tell which direction to go, Forrest pointed and sang, ‘Teeny weeny Tynamo, pick a stream and watch it flow, down which river did you go, teeny weeny Tynamo?’

His course set, Forrest continued his march. However, it stopped just as quickly, when he heard a peculiar sound reach his ears. A shrill cry was emanating from somewhere nearby.

Picking his way through the scrub, Forrest peeled away branches that clung doggedly to the torn clothing he’d awoken in.

Poking his head through the trees, Forrest’s gaze set upon a small grass type Pokemon; a Treecko. It’s fists were balled at its sides, and it’s head was thrown back. It cried loudly, it’s distress stretching through the forest.

At the Treecko’s feet lay a Sceptile, it’s eyes gray and lifeless. It’s chest didn’t rise, and it made no move to comfort the child.

What had happened, Forrest didn’t know, but clearly it was already having an effect. Panic spread across the world in an instant. It wouldn’t take long for communities to become strongholds, and for outsiders to be seen as threats.

Stepping slowly from the trees, Forrest kneeled by the crying Treecko and smiled gently. ‘Crying is hard work. It makes me very thirsty. Would you like some water?’

Treecko’s wailing quietened to muffled sobs. It sniffled and looked upon Forrest, unsure of the stranger.

‘It’s okay. I miss my family too.’ Slowly, Forrest reached out and pulled Treecko into a hug. It burst into tears once more and Forrest slowly stood, cradling Treecko in his arms.

Backtracking to the spring, Forrest found that his mind was set. This had happened to him twice, and it made him furious. He would discover whatever caused this, and prevent it, no matter the cost.

Meanwhile, across the ocean, through a small town and deep into a mountain range, a bird Pokemon stood, unblinking. It had once stared into the sunset, now Xatu could only see darkness.

‘So,’ mused Xatu. ‘You’re third life begins. Forrest, I wish you luck in your quest; find good soil.’

In times long past, it was thought that Phantump were tree stumps, possessed by the spirits of children who died while lost in the forest. I wonder, should a Phantump find it’s way back home, then, could it rest?