Giovanni looked out over his men. Over five hundred of the best trainers in Kanto were assembled inside the main dining area of the Hudson Haven, and he was their General. As the Indigo League Champion, he was expected to lead his men into combat and bring them out alive.

He was among the oldest of the trainers that had come to taste the field of battle, and, at forty-three, was the only one that had any actually viable military experience. He had studied for nearly a decade at the Altan Institute for Martial Doctrine, and had served an additional five years in the Altan Army. It had been three years since he had left the Altans, and returned to Kanto.

Since he had returned to his mother country, he had risen swiftly through the ranks, and had most recently become champion of the country. The previous Champion had been driving the League into the ground, as the Reps, or the Representative Assembly of Kanto, could attest. Since he had defeated the cynical old man that had been known as Blaine just over five months before, he had carefully and efficiently pulled the nation’s economy out of its nose-dive by sanctioning the construction of a “Safari Zone” in Fuschia City, where endangered Pokemon could flee to for sanctuary, and trainers could attempt to capture the non-endangered Pokemon using only their wits.

Additionally, he had approved the building of a massive colosseum on the Indigo Plateau, to replace the old, rickety colosseum that had become more of a hazard than a held, and a massive burst of advertisement for the Indigo League. He was sure, that within five years, Kanto would be the envy of the world.

But first, he would have to win this war. He knew that within several days, over three thousand trainers from all over the world would be stationed here, at the third-largest retreat in Nuschantz. However, he also knew that they would very likely lose to even five hundred Blizzards without the proper training. If he had had a choice, he would have wanted months to prepare the men and women for combat. As it was, he didn’t have that luxury, and he would have to settle for a shorter version of training. If what he had in mind actually worked, it would take no more than a week and a half. Even then, he wouldn’t have his men join in combat against the Blizzards unless they had a very clear margin of victory.

He shook his head and turned back to his carefully selected command staff. They were among the most able-bodied and experienced fighting men and women in all of Kanto. A young man by the name of Tyberius Surge had demanded to be a part of the cabal, but Giovanni had refused, saying that the man had no military experience, and, as such, could not be counted on for tactically wise solutions to difficult problems.

He had at the table a pair of twins by the name of Butch and Cassidy Sundance, a particularly formidable pair of teens with good heads on their shoulders and Pokemon on their belts; the former Indigo League Champion, Blaine; and an elderly woman by the name of Agatha Fraley, who, in prior battles with her, had proven to be a formidable warrior and a superior tactician. Together, he was sure, he’d be able to give the Blizzards a run for their money. As long as the relativistically independent Kantan trainers learned to cooperate, and not charge around the battlefield operating on their own. If that happened, there would be no way that any sort of cohesive battle plan would be able to be established, and there would be no way to win the war.


The figure shook his head and put it into his hands, all of which were metaphorical, of course. The future was changed. Drastically changed. The Girl would now not become the Elite that she was supposed to be. That wasn’t necessarily a BAD thing, but the future was irreparably changed.

He could take care of the other temporal incursions, but her present circumstance wasn’t a temporal incursion. It was supposed to happen. But she wasn’t supposed to be there. He had wanted to try to fix the meddling in the timeline, but the Council had voted unanimously against him. They had said that any further temporal adjustments could seriously damage the timeline.

So they had forbade him from entering the realm of the Physical Ones. They were fools. They didn’t see the imminent danger that was approaching. Only he could. He was the most far-sighted of the council, and he knew what awaited them in just a short stretch of time, unless it could be prevented.

But he had been forbidden from altering the timeline. Or, rather, altering the timeline by entering the Physical Realm. But there were other possibilities, he realized, that could be exploited that did not involve entering the Physical Realm. And he needed to do it as soon as he could.

The metaphorical figure drew in a breath, and began working. He just hoped that he could reach the person he wanted in time.


Lorelei looked around the room. It was odd. A silvery affair, it was perfectly cubical. There seemed to be, except for the wall directly in front of her, at the same time, a wall not that far away in every direction, yet at the same time, no end of the room in sight.

She frowned and walked around the room, not quite sure how she had gotten here. The last thing that she remembered was that she had been falling. She had looked to the side, and then—nothing.

She glanced around the room, taking stock of herself. She was wearing the same clothes that she had on when she had been falling, but it seemed different somehow. Lighter, maybe.

She tapped the wall experimentally, but it was solid. Sort of. She wasn’t sure exactly how to explain it, but it felt slightly pliable.

She glared at the walls and struck them with her fist. For some reason, she felt no pain. Muttering to herself, she slammed her right foot into the wall. Once again she didn’t feel anything. She sighed and slumped against the wall. There was nothing she could do against it, and it wasn’t the best idea to be running away from wherever she was. The wall at her back felt slightly cold and definitely metallic, but was otherwise not very noteworthy.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. Through her eyelids, she saw—or felt?—a flash of silverfish light. When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else completely. Instead of the silver room, she was in a small cottage. A quick glance around showed her that this was definitely Tintian architecture. It was old-fashioned, too. In one corner was an actual wood burning stove. Above the door, a bow hung, and on either side of the door, a sword hung, its tip pointing skyward.

In the middle of the rather rustic cabin sat a young man. He was probably no more than twenty-three, and had loose, brown clothes that looked like he’d made them himself. About a hundred years or more in the past. Lorelei stood up cautiously, “What do you want?” she asked cautiously.

The young man held out a hand. “Lorelei,” he said, “I know that this is a little hard to take in. I want to assure you that I don’t mean you any harm.” He gestured at one of two seats in the room, both rustic-looking and made out of wood, on the other side of a rough wooden table from him.

Lorelei’s eyes narrowed. “I’d prefer to stand, thank you.” She snapped, not moving a muscle except, of course, for those that moved involuntarily or allowed her to speak.

The man sighed and shook his head, “Look,” he said, “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you. If I could have helped you sooner, I would have, but things aren’t that simple. You’d be dead by now if it weren’t for me, you know.”

Lorelei frowned, “What are you talking about?”

The man grinned, “Tell you what. You sit down, we talk, and I’ll tell you. Deal?” he asked.

Lorelei growled from deep in her throat. “Fine.” She muttered, and slunk over to the seat and plopped down, but not before checking for booby traps. “Now talk!” she demanded, pounding the table with one fist. “I would think it would be simple to talk to me. Just walk out the door and come visit me. Of course, I probably wouldn’t have talked to you, but that’s not the point.”

The man sighed. “Look, I know you think that you’re still on Earth, but you’re not. You’re nowhere in your Universe, all right? This is-well, the easiest way to explain it to you would be to say that it’s another Dimension, where your physical attributes don’t matter. You can look like whatever you want. Be almost whatever you want. But you, your personality, the thing inside you that is you-that lives here, and you can never change what that’s like. Well,” he conceded with a grin. “Not without a lot of effort, anyway. Unless you people have a lot more will power than I did back when I was a Physical.”

Lorelei frowned. “This is-“ she glanced around, slightly relaxing. “This isn’t on Earth?” she asked. The man shook his head. “And you can really-“ she cut herself off as the man suddenly turned into a Charizard, then a Togepi, a Growlithe, and a Sudowoodo, before returning to his original appearance.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What does that tell you?” he asked her.

Lorelei shook her head. “That I’m dreaming?” she said in a confused tone.

The man laughed. “It’s all right, Lorelei, you’re not dreaming. You’re in a coma. It’s the best time, though, for me to contact you.” Lorelei frowned, and opened her mouth to say something, but the man cut her off. “I know who you are, but you don’t know who I am. I’ll get to that in a second, but first, you just need to listen.”

Lorelei nodded feebly. This was too much. She was having an information overload. Things were coming at her too hard and too fast. This was either a very vivid dream, or it was a nightmarish reality. Suddenly, nothing made sense.

“There have been people traveling from another time period back to yours to try and change history to benefit them. I’ve stopped many of them, but I haven’t been able to stop them all. Unfortunately, the timeline is beyond repair, and I don’t think you’ll ever be the Dark Elite of the Kanto Elite Four like you were supposed to be.”

Lorelei’s head shot up. “Huh?” she demanded. “I hate dark types. Almost as much as fire types. They’re just so stupid.”

The man smiled. “Then why did you choose a Sneasel?”

Lorelei rolled her eyes. “It was the only Ice type Companion that was still available back when I wanted to start out in Alto, and I was too impatient to wait three weeks until the next companion would be available. If there had been any other ice type, I would have chosen it.” The man raised an eyebrow, but Lorelei charged on. “This is getting really weird.” She got up and began stalking around the small room. “First you tell me that some people are messing up time travel, next you tell me that I’m supposed to be in the Elite Four, Master of a type that I hate. What’s next? Are you the Tintian Gerahid?” she demanded.

The man smiled, and shrugged. “Actually,” he said, “I am.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Right. You’re the guy that in just a few short years turned the tide of an Engaran War. Who, when he was only fourteen or whatever had commanded his first victory? Who is the second-most respected human in Tintian History?” she laughed harshly. “Sorry, but I don’t believe you. Gerahid died when he was twenty-three. And that was two hundred years ago.”

The Gerahid impostor smiled. “Did he really?” he said quietly. “What’s that expression that the Tintians are always throwing about? Oh, yes. ‘Titans never die’?”

Lorelei twisted her lip. “Look, if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. Just get me back to where I was, and I’ll be quite happy. I’ve got to go help Bugsy. Since I’m still alive, that still means that I can help him out.”

The man stood up and shook his head. “Lorelei, you’ve been in the coma for a week. Bugsy’s in a Blizzard prison in their secret, ultra-secure base deep in the Nuschantian Mountain Range. I’m not at liberty to tell you exactly where it was, but even if I did, you’d be faced with literally millions of Pokémon and thousands of Blizzards to defeat before you got to him. It’s hopeless.”

Lorelei narrowed her eyes, “I love a good challenge, but I wasn’t planning on going right away. I’ve got myself a Legendary Bird to find. After I get my Sneasel healed, I’ll be finding Bugsy, and Allnian help anyone who gets in my way.” She suddenly realized what she had just said, and grinned., “As long as I get to Allnian first.”

The Gerahid impersonator sighed, “All right,” he said quietly, “But just be sure that you find Allnian and get your Sneasel healed. If you don’t, then even the Titans won’t be enough to save the world.” The man raised his hands and a silver glow surrounded them. “Don’t let anything stop you.”




Bugsy sat in his cell in the corner. It was where he had consigned himself to after the first several days, and nobody paid much attention to him. He was the last to get food, but that was all right. He needed the time to think.

He had noticed that the Blizzards had used a rare type of Pokeball, called a Wipe Ball, so called because the Pokemon inside the ball would imprint itself ONLY to the person that caught it, and not listen to anyone else.

That was the bad news.

The good news was that Bugsy had checked up on the Blizzards before he had come, and learned that they used an Ice type that was very stupid, yet very powerful. If his theory was correct, its stupidity could prove to be the decisive factor in their escape. If everything went according to plan.

From what he’d heard about Blizzards, the Mountain Goats were a standard issue, so no matter when they launched their jail break attempt, they SHOULD be able to get a Pokemon to use.

But not yet…

More people were being brought in every day. For what, Bugsy wasn’t sure, but all he knew was that he had to get out.

But he had to be patient.

He needed more people for the operation to have any chance of success.


It was a quiet day at the Prito Ski Resort. The pet Moyferar were frolicking out in the snow in front of the house, the defensive Mightyena lay on the front porch, where they would remain for the rest of the day, barring any emergency on the slopes or Blizzard attack. It was the tourist off-season, so there weren’t many people around except, of course, for the hired hands the Pritos had commissioned to help with some maintenance. Of course, there were still a few tourists around, but the ski lifts weren’t operating.

The Prito Resort was a smaller resort than most. One of nearly a hundred scattered around the country, the Prito Resort was the newest resort in the country, and one of the fastest growing as well. But it still wasn’t as large as the next largest resort. However, most analysts predicted that within five years, it would be larger than twenty percent of every resort in Nuschantz.

The Ski Lodge stood proudly in front of the icy field that served a dual purpose as the ice skating rink and the runway for the bush planes that ferried tourists and supplies to and from the resort. The next plane wasn’t expected for several hours, though, and so no one was outside.

The Resort was, actually, one of the most luxurious of the smaller resorts. The interior of the resort was covered in wood paneling, expensive paintings and tapestries, and the windows were made of stained glass. Through the hallways a young boy crept, trying to remain inconspicuous.

He peered around the corner, and at the girl lying on the bed. He thought that she was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. She was short, but her black hair with that blond streak running through the back made her look so beautiful. And that golden bracelet that she had on her right wrist. The one with the etching of Drago on it. She had heard that something like it had attacked Johto, but he couldn’t believe it. There were people that watched Drago’s cave constantly, and they would notify all of Nuschantz if it ever left its cave. It had not. That could only mean that, well, something else was going on.

Out in the corridor, he could hear someone stomping up the stairs. Quickly, he ran out of the room, and made sure to shut the door behind himself.


Lorelei heard the sound of a door closing, and opened her eyes. She frowned. The discussion in the cabin seemed almost like a dream. Was it a dream? She couldn’t be sure. She glanced around the lush room. There was a canopy over the bed, and a painting of a snow-covered mountain hung on one of the walls. She checked to make sure that she was dressed, and threw the covers aside. Crossing to the window, she looked outside, and realized that somehow, she’d made it to Nuschantz. But how was that possible?

She suddenly felt dizzy, and raised a hand to her head. She thought she caught a flash of gold out of the corner of her eye, and looked at her wrist. There was a bracelet that hadn’t been there before. It had the outline of—she felt the blood draining from her face. She recognized the shape. It was the same dragon that had attacked
Violet City.

She felt a little stiff. She went through one of her self-defense drills, and realized that she was even stiffer than she had thought. She shook her head and staggered through the door. From one end of a lavishly decorated hall, she could hear singing. She walked down the corridor and pushed open the massive, ornately carved double door.

Inside, across the room, a massive fire roared, and about thirty people were sitting around it, singing and roasting marshmallows. Off to one side was a buffet table, and Lorelei suddenly realized that she was extremely hungry. She darted through the doors without another thought and ran to the buffet and began stuffing things in her mouth, oblivious to everything else.

The next thing she could remember, after gorging herself, were people cheering and patting her on the back. She couldn’t recall afterwards exactly how long she was eating before she came back to herself, but she was pretty sure it was at least five minutes.


Eltan paced the room, waiting nervously for his commander to enter the room. The Verin Retreat had given up the soldiers, albeit involuntarily. Blizzard Intelligence had shoed that they were moving a large strike team into position to try to take his plane, and had left the Retreat with a minimal guard. Blizzard operatives had stormed the Retreat, released the prisoners, and gotten away with minimal injuries.

Eltan leaned heavily on the desk, and smiled, remembering the relief he’d felt when he learned that he no longer had to threaten to kill hostages. Only the girl had been killed, and he was sorry that he had to do it, but he had had no choice. The so-called government of Nuschantz needed a serious overhaul, and the leaders of the various retreats around the country showed that they had no intention of bringing one about.

The Team Blizzard movement had started with a few disgruntled men from various retreats around the country, led by a man called Gertal, who held a conference that attempted to change the way things were run in Nuschantz, but the leaders of the family retreats refused to listen to them.

For fifteen years, Gertal and his men tried unsuccessfully to institute a series of reforms, but was rebuffed each time. With each attempt, however, the number of his followers grew. Then Gertal had realized that it was impossible to instate reforms while the current leadership was in power, and that it was impossible to oust them from their positions.
So he had gone into the mountains for ten years, and built part of the base that he was standing in today. Then he had emerged, and recruited hundreds of men and women to his cause, as well as thousands of Pokemon. That had been three years ago. The leadership of Nuschantz still refused to listen to them, so now, they were forced to take militial action. None of the Blizzards liked it, but they all knew it had to be done, for the sake of the country.

The hijacking of the plane had become necessary when Gertal had been captured on the last of his recruitment tours, and the Verin family, the most powerful retreat in Nuschantz, had refused to release him. Eltan was relieved that there had been no further loss of life.

But now, the Blizzards would plan an offensive against the twelve Nuschantian Retreats. If they planned it well, it would be a relatively bloodless coup. If they planned badly…thousands of humans and Pokemon would die. None of the Blizzards wanted that.
Eltan was brought out of his revery by the sound of a door opening. He snapped to attention in his crisp, dark-blue uniform, and felt a swell of pride as Gertal himself stepped through the doorway. “I am told,” he said in his low, gravelly voice, “That I have you to thank for lowering the Verin Retreat’s defenses and teleporting me here.”

Eltan nodded eagerly, “Yes sir, I did. I hope that you will be proud of me.”
Gertal’s eyes narrowed. “I did not know how you managed to do it before I got back here, Eltan. When I had left you in charge, I hadn’t thought you’d go this far. With your single action, you have brought us down to the level of the Rockets! Now people will view us as criminals. You killed in cold blood, Eltan, to free me from prison, and you would have killed more. You hijacked a plane. That is not what I want people to remember when they look back on history and write about us.”

Eltan felt the sting of the words, and hung his head. “I am sorry, sir. I did what I thought was best.”

He felt Gertal’s hands on his shoulders. “But we cannot change the past. Perhaps, however, in the future, we may be able to atone for what you have done. But it will take time to regain the people’s trust. And until we do, we must stop our plans for political reform. The people have to want us to change things. If we go now, they will see us as carrying out a vendetta. Treat the hostages for any injuries they may have, and send them to the Verin Retreat.” He turned to walk away, then turned back to Eltan, “But I would like to speak with them, before they return.”

Eltan nodded, and swiped at the holographic controls for the screen in front of himself. Now, the Blizzards could be freed up to their other main goal. A goal that Eltan had worked for his entire life.

What would it be like, he wondered, to have the power to live forever? If his plans worked, it would be within his grasp. But he would not give up the strikes that were planned against Nuschantz. He had worked far too hard to give up now. And the Blizzards would win.

Or die trying.


Lorelei stared up at the stars outside the Prito Ski Resort, and hugged herself. Would she ever be able to start her journey? Would she ever be able to have a Pokemon that didn’t get some kind of fatal or nearly fatal injury within twenty-four hours of her getting it for her journey?

She looked down at her feet and shoved the snow around. Maybe it was her. Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a trainer. Maybe, she should just quit now, and forget about Allnian.

From out of the corner of her left eye, she caught a movement, and she turned, slowly. She didn’t care if it was someone that wanted to attack her anymore. She just didn’t care anymore. How could she? She’s failed Bugsy. She’d failed Sneasel. She’d failed her brother. She’d failed her original team, and she'd failed their offspring. But most of all, she’d failed herself. would she ever be able to forgive herself for getting the three children of her Altan team killed? Well, Geodude and Duskull were dead, and Sneasel might as well have been unless she found Allnian, which, without her Pokedex, which the Blizzards had confiscated, or Bugsy, seemed pretty hopeless.

She saw the young boy, Lukas Prito, she recalled, out of the corner of her eye as he approached her shyly. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Lorelei said, turning away from him and looking back up at the stars, trying to keep from crying. The stars were so much brighter here. So much more vivid.

“Do you have any Pokemon?” the boy asked. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a minor surge of annoyance bubbled up, but it never came to the fore.

Lorelei considered the question, and said, “Yes, but it can’t battle. It’s far too injured.” Lorelei said quietly. “And I have to find…” she trailed off.

“Was it a Sneasel?” the boy’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she shook her head. Was she ever this annoying? “Because if it is, we just got a matter to matter transmission from a place called
Cherrygrove City in Johto with a Sneasel. Said that you needed it.”

Lorelei shook her head. “Not unless I can find Allnian,” she said quietly. “She’s the only one that can help me now.”

“I know where Allnian lives!” came the cheery voice of the nine-year old, “I can take you there!”

“I don’t have any Pokemon that are up to it,” Lorelei said, turning to face the boy. For the first time since the plane, a dim flicker of hope stirred within her.

“That doesn’t matter,” the boy said, and produced a Pokeball, “Here,” he said, “Take my Smoochum!” he handed the orb to Lorelei, who took it carefully.

She eyed it, then shook her head, “I can’t,” she said, “Whenever I have Pokemon, bad things always happen to them. I don’t want anything to happen to it.” She held the ball out, “Here,” she said, “You take it back.”

Lukas frowned, “In Nuschantz,” he said quietly, “When you’re given a gift, it’s an insult to refuse.”

Lorelei sighed, “Fine,” she said, “I’ll keep it. But we’re going out after Allnian in two days, you got it?”

Lukas grinned. “Two days,” he cried, and ran back into the lodge.

Lorelei shook her head and looked back up to the stars. What had she gotten herself into this time?