CHAPTER 0 — The First Mission

The Unholy Pyramid was one of several mystery dungeons few dared to enter. It was dark and riddled with cobwebs, for one. Second, the dungeon got its name due to rumours about it cursing anyone who stayed inside for too long, turning them into zombies or mummies—it was up for speculation whether the rumours were true or not. Third, it was an ancient resting place for the dead—most were afraid of those, either out of respect for the dead or for the ghosts lurking around. And finally, it housed a treasure only the most desperate of thieves attempted to get their hands on, as the Mythical Pokémon Hoopa guarded it. Hoopa was incredibly strong with his full power unleashed, and with the bottle meant to seal his power being destroyed, none wished to provoke him.

None, except for one Pokémon.

The Pokémon in question, clad head-to-toe in a black robe with an oversized hood and sleeves, was making their way to the top of the pyramid, ignoring the many Zubat, Gastly, and Spinarak that called this dungeon home. The figure was talking to someone through a communication device of some kind, in a language that was definitely not the native tongue. A few minutes into the conversation, the call ended with a quiet beep, filling the area with an ominous silence.

The figure kept walking, their footsteps light, as they searched for Hoopa and the treasure he protected. The pyramid, like many dungeons, was like a giant maze, with dead ends up the wazoo. The adventure was taking forever, it felt, as one enemy after another was either ignored or dealt with through violence, and most items on each floor were disregarded. As they climbed up the last staircase, almost tripping over a coffin in the process, the hooded Pokémon’s patience started to run thin…but then they stopped, and grinned. They walked past a coffin that would otherwise be in their path.

“At long last…” A low, mature voice came out of the figure’s mouth. “I have finally found you, Hoopa.”

Hoopa, in his Unbound form, stood up from what looked like a large throne made up of shiny trinkets and other valuables. He was surrounded by a trove of various treasures—money, gemstones, golden items, you name it. What stood out, however, was a snow-white bracelet that sat on top of a pile of gold, as if to tempt thieves into showing their true colours, allowing Hoopa to punish them accordingly.

He caught the voice as he stood, and he looked down. The Pokémon in black was tiny compared to him. Needless to say, he didn’t see them as a threat, and he relaxed himself.

“What brings you here? What do you desire?” he bellowed. His loud, deep voice bounced off the limestone walls, creating an echo that surrounded both Pokémon. The smaller figure wasn’t intimidated at all.

“I wish for nothing more than to talk,” they said, flatly.

“About?”

The figure tugged on their hood. “I heard about your little possession, which you have protected…for millennia, it would seem, correct?” Hoopa nodded, and before he could open his mouth the other Pokémon continued. “Many Pokémon have made countless attempts at getting their hands, paws, or whatever appendages they have on it, only to fail miserably every time. Eh-heh-heh~♥ So, tell me…” They took a few steps closer and spread their arms out. “How have you managed to pull it off every single time, dear Hoopa? How have you not given up after so long? How have you remained undefeated to this very day? I am dying to learn your ways…”

Hoopa listened to their words. When they were done, he sighed, giving the only answer he could possibly think of.

“I’m a Mythical Pokémon. I simply have the strength to withstand just about anything that comes flying at me.”

“Yes, yes, I get it—you are quite powerful.” The figure coughed somewhat rudely. “However, I cannot accept that for an answer. After all, you must understand that not even Legendary and Mythical Pokémon are invincible. Hell, not even Arceus themself can take on everything on their own and win—” They snapped their fingers. It was hard to know they did it without hearing it, due to their hand being hidden by their sleeve. “—just like that. Even they, the supposed god of all creation, can lose a fight if the cards serve the correct purpose once played from the hand. There simply has to be more than just…erm, the obvious.”

He knew it. And they were right. Hoopa wasn’t invincible, just stronger than the average Pokémon. He recalled a legend he had read in the past, one about two first-stage Pokémon who took out a corrupted Dialga all on their own…then a Palkia, and then a Darkrai of all things. Maybe that legend was on the stranger’s mind, as well. Well, everyone called it a legend, but it was a true event that happened only a good century ago.

“I’m sorry to say I don’t have a better explanation,” said Hoopa, sullenly. “You’re right in every way. That reminds me, I’ve been getting rusty on the battlefield… Perhaps I should train again.”

“That would be wise of you, dear Hoopa. Very wise.” The robed Pokémon flashed a warm smile. It looked…genuine. No ill intent whatsoever. “Say, when was the last time a petty outlaw attempted to steal the Chaos Bangle? Or dear Diancie’s Prism Jewel, for that matter?”

Hoopa put a hand on his chin, thinking back with a hrmmm. “Not recently, thankfully. I’d say a few years ago.”

“Good, good,” the figure said, still smiling warmly. “Train up, then, and you shall be able to protect it for many more years to come.”

Just as they finished that sentence, they heard a small beep from their wrist. They rolled up their right sleeve, revealing a hand covered by a black glove, and took off what looked like a silver wristwatch with no numbers and no hands on a blank, black face. Definitely not a watch. Whatever it was, they dangled it in their hand as they glanced up at Hoopa.

“Forgive my rudeness,” they said, “but I must skedaddle. I had fun chatting with you—sincerely, I did. It is just, well, something very important is going on in my case, and I cannot afford to show up fashionably late. Time is ticking, you know.” Literally. The “watch” in their hand, despite having nothing on its face, ticked with each passing second, and funnily enough, Hoopa didn’t seem to suspect it, even when the figure tossed it to him. He caught it in two cupped hands. “A gift to add to your collection,” they said, their smile lingering. They turned to leave. Just as they were about to take their first step out, Hoopa stopped them by speaking up.

“It was a nice talk. It was the first normal conversation I’ve had in a very long time, so thank you. Oh, and thanks for the gift. Not sure what it is, or why it’s constantly clicking, but it’s in good hands.”

“Eh?” The robed Pokémon glanced over their shoulder. Naturally, they saw nothing but black through the fabric of their hood, but they knew Hoopa was still standing there. “Oh, but dear Hoopa, I am afraid I will not be leaving…empty-handed.”

“There’s lots of loot here that I don’t need. Go on, take some. Make it worth your while.”

The Pokémon’s eyes widened for a second. Now they were really wondering how Hoopa hadn’t been robbed yet. Did he not take any of their hints? Was he that stupid? They chuckled, finding his incompetence amusing.

“Oh, no, I did not come all the way here for riches, dear Hoopa. As filthy as I am, I do not care to make a fortune.”

Suddenly, the ticking stopped. A split second later, the device in Hoopa’s hands exploded, startling him. The explosion echoed and created a blast of dust and smoke between the two. More explosions could be heard from the floors below, and the dungeon began to quake, as if losing balance. Hoopa looked around, unable to see a thing through all the smoke.

“WH-WHAT?!”

Hoopa heard evil cackling as the walls started to crumble down. He got down on the floor, holding on to it. Without the Prison Bottle to confine him, there was no way he could escape. “Eh-heh-heh… Conadoro, Hoopa~♥” From context clues, he could infer that the foreign word meant something along the lines of goodbye.

The whole pyramid came crashing down, giving Hoopa a long and very bumpy ride down to the ground. Debris fell on top of him, but none of it was enough to hurt him too badly, as he easily got back on his feet after the dust cleared. By that point, the dungeon was destroyed, and Hoopa could see the moonless, starry night sky in full view. In front of him was a large hole, as if somebody used Dig. He looked around, and saw another hole next to him. The Chaos Bangle he was meant to guard was gone. His eyes widened in pure shock.

“BLAST!” He banged the side of his fist into a wall that stayed standing, despite all the damage done to it. “How the hell have I been deceived so easily?!” His voice was louder than normal, out of anger that was caused by his treasure getting stolen.

Then, a piece of paper caught his eye, distracting him from his frustration. “Hmm, what’s this?” he grumbled. “A sheet of paper?” He picked it up and learned it was a letter. He started reading the words aloud.

I appreciate your thoughtfulness in handing me such a glorious gift, dear Hoopa. I shall take utmost care of it. However, unlike all the thieves before me, I did not do this for my selfish desires. The—

A sharp pain in his back cut him off, and he fell forward, unable to get up. The robed Pokémon from before stood on top of his back, careful not to step on the blood that leaked out of his wound, arms crossed in an X formation. They had used X-Scissor to heavily damage the Psychic-Dark type. The Chaos Bangle could be seen around their right wrist.

He was cut off by an attack to his back, and he fell forward, unable to get up. The robed Pokémon from before stood on top of his back, arms crossed in an X formation. They had used X-Scissor to attack the Psychic-Dark type. The Chaos Bangle could be seen around their right wrist.

They picked up where Hoopa left off, reciting the rest of the letter by memory.

The truth is, I am doing this for the sake of this world. Forgive me, but my cause is just. I aim to save the world from its current doom, and to do that, unfortunately, the Chaos Bangle and Prism Jewel are both needed. It is in my hands now. No one will stop me from seeking out the Chosen Hero, and that includes you. Do not dare die before the magic happens. Farewell.

The figure hopped off Hoopa, and he was forced to watch them walk away with the bangle on their person. He felt helpless. Defeated. To be tricked by someone so effortlessly… He wouldn’t make that mistake again—he’d swear it. And for the next time he would see that stranger, he made a mental note to kill them on the spot. Served them right for humiliating him, so he felt.

“Damn you…”

The figure paused a second to look back. Hoopa was fully unconscious. They smirked, proud of themself. “Dearest Hoopa, I promise I mean well. You just have to wait and see for yourself…”

They continued off into the night, leaving Hoopa and any remaining sorrows they had for him behind.