Ok, so this is the first part of my fanfic.  I posted this on fanfiction.com already so if you want to see it there, I won’t stop you.  I’ve added some more content to this chapter as I noticed it was rather too short for my liking.  So, I think this time, you’ll enjoy this chapter at least a little more than you did when I first published it.  Like on fanfiction.com, you are free to talk to me about any discrepancies.  I won’t be that talkative, so you may have to search me in order to find my profile.  And remember… do I have to say this every time?  We don’t own Pokémon and must give credit to its creator and copyright owner which is basically Nintendo.  (Note) None of the human characters from the Pokémon anime ever appear in my story so if you’re looking for something with Ash, Misty, or Dawn, then you’ve come to the wrong fanfic.

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Ch 1

A Hand in Fate

(A few months after the gathering of the legendaries)

            The storm hit the compound out of the blue.  The rage of nature seemed unable to touch the inside of the rather out of place cylindrical building that stood defiantly against the legendaries’ will.  The workers paid no attention to the fury of the gale outside; they had a job to accomplish.  Every single member of the facility was working endlessly to complete a long forgotten assignment.  The head of the establishment sat in a smooth Brazilian Rosewood chair in his private quarters tinkering with chemicals on his slate desktop and let out a hearty laugh, he had finally done it.  The years of research had finally paid off and he had created his key to being a god.  Just then, one of the workers entered the room and noticing his boss’s work asked quietly.

            “What was the laughter for?”

            “It is complete.”  The man in the chair was clearly enjoying the late night despite the weather.

            “What is?”

            “Are you an imbecile? What else?”  The man in the chair got up and turned toward the clueless worker, “The modified serum is ready.”

            The worker quickly caught on to the situation and a big grin formed on his rather thin face, hesitantly, he mumbled, “Does this mean we’re free to go then sir?”  Despite his joy, he knew that his employer was quite ruthless and had an intolerance towards slackers.

            The head scientist frowned; whenever he announced a breakthrough in his work, he was always pestered from his workers for resignations.

            “Yes,” the man replied.  “You can leave… my office.”  And with a swift gesture, he pressed a button on his chair’s back.

            The worker never saw what hit him next, a trapdoor opened beneath him and he fell so quickly and suddenly that he never had the chance to scream.  The chute door closed just as swiftly as it had opened and the man turned back to his object of admiration.  Those kinds of attitudes from his workers would simply set back his regime’s completion.

They would never do this if they had even the slightest bit of a clue as to what I am going to do with all those chemicals.  Fools like him will only hinder my goal.  At least the idiot isn’t going to die; I put cushioning on the bottom for a purpose.  The worst injury he’ll get is a broken neck or concussion if he somehow ends up falling on his head.  The next thing I need is another body to clean up.  Nothing must interfere with this, not now, not ever.  I cannot allow that to happen, not like before.

            Already he had produced enough serum to give to all the forgotten human survivors but his plan was to go far past giving the few humans left protection from the virus.  He glanced over to admire the clear blue liquid he was pouring into a syringe.  “Soon, Project Infinite will achieve its crowning glory; and I will be the leader of a new, superior race of assimulates.”  He looked menacingly at a picture of a family and some Pokémon on his desk.  “The original version did nothing to separate the humans from those things.  This will finally prove human’s superiority over nature.”

            He looked again at the picture, the family in the picture reminded him of too much… he wished that there was an alternative to actually becoming one of those things but he knew that if he didn’t do anything, he would die like the rest of them.  Catching the altered Pokérus was not one of the things he had on his bucket list.  A scuffle of footsteps woke him up out of the trance he was in.  Looking toward the doorway, the scientist pulled the handgun he kept in his desk drawer and placed the firearm in the holster on his right hip.  Walking out toward the hallway, he placed a hand on the gun; someone was not supposed to be here and as far as the scientist was concerned, they were going to die.

            Suddenly; almost impossibly, there was an explosion, followed by several more blasts that shook and obscured the viewing windows of the manufacturing lines.  Turning back toward the windows of his office, the man could only stare at the unbelievable sight.  The madness and anger quickly disappeared as a grimace crossed his haggard face.  No! Not again!” He thought looking towards the machinery outside that had just exploded.  He was utterly concerned about his experimental serum much more than the workers manning the stations in the manufactory that now ran frantically out of the room in a panic.  Turning around, he made his way out of his office.  Although the head of the forgotten project looked to be in his near fifties’, he was still able to sprint down the corridor toward the work bay incredibly quickly.

 

 

 

            The blasts were the perfect diversion and exactly the cue the shadow behind the man’s door was waiting for.  Revealing himself to the dim fluorescent lights overhead, the shadow appeared untypical of a saboteur and more like a punk.  He had long messy green hair that he had spiked over his right eye and the hair on the back of his head went down to the middle of his neck.  He had slightly tanned skin and a face untouched by the countless fights and missions he had been in and also wore a long black ankle-length overcoat over his clothes which concealed a peculiar-looking sword that was thicker at its base and tip.  Oddly, the sleeves of his coat were missing and the torn remnants of them on the coat could not have been the result of a fight against any living creature.  He looked down the hall and saw that smoke was already creeping in through the doorway.  The explosives he planted were directed at the equipment and other storage bays for the serum; not at the human workers.  He was given a specific order not to purposefully harm anyone in the raid and the young man hoped his well-placed charges hadn’t hurt anyone that he knew.

Why did he join this crazy experimentation group anyway?

His thoughts were not directed at himself but a member of the compound’s employees that he knew and looked up to before these insane projects began.  The saboteur knew that he could not hesitate to act accordingly in this mission or he would risk being exposed and or death.  Although twenty-one, the young man’s emerald eyes showed a hint of just what exactly he had lived and nearly died through.  He wasn’t planning on this job to be his last.

            Slowly, maintaining a low stance and making sure no one saw him, the saboteur silently entered the head scientist’s private quarters.  Urgently making his way to the desk next to the chair, he spied a hypodermic needle full of the strange and curious substance.  The man quickly mulled over his options, if he could get a sample, he might be able to sell it for incredulous amounts of money.  If he could sell it along as get paid for the mission, he might actually be able to pay off…  He stopped himself for a moment and quickly realized that doing so might jeopardize his mission which was to destroy all of the substance and risk not getting paid or worse. 

After playing out the possible outcomes, the young man finally decided to take the substance, it would be impossible for his employer to figure out he swiped a sample and he was sure he could get away with it when a gunshot rang out and a bullet ricocheted off the top of the desk; nearly hitting his outstretched hand.  Looking up, the saboteur had enough time to see the head scientist walk into the room, blocking off the entrance and holding a gun at the young man’s arm.

            “If you even so much as touch that, I’ll shoot your bloody hand off!”  The head scientist bellowed; his eyes blazing with hate.  The scientist had looked over the extent of the damage and it had become apparent to him that whoever had rigged the explosives had knowledge of all the machinery in the compound as the machines were completely trashed yet made little collateral damage.  He had returned to make sure that no one tried to steal the altered vaccine he had just finished making, his hunch couldn’t have been more right.  The scientist aimed the gun at the man’s head and spoke again, “I said… don’t… touch that!  You don’t want to die now do you?”  The saboteur didn’t reply and after a moment of silence ducked behind the chair then kicked it in the scientist’s direction, grabbing the serum and pocketing it simultaneously.  Although made of heavy wood, the chair hurtled toward the scientist like being launched from a catapult.  The scientist instinctively pulled the trigger, but the rosewood deflected the bullet and rammed the man into the wall behind him, shattering and knocking him out cold.  The saboteur quickly leaped over the chair fragments and the unconscious man and sprinted toward the nearest exit.

            Turning a corner, the young man found himself facing several guards on a patrol routine at the opposite side of the hall.  The guards quickly caught on to the situation and drew their assault rifles.  The saboteur found himself staring down the barrels of an all too familiar weapon as he fell back behind the corner.  They were wielding Tavor V12s, a very rare and advanced rifle even for an enlisted soldier from the previous war to lay eyes on.  Crafted out of titanium alloys, they were light and efficient and could put rounds through concrete; easily capable of taking him out.  The man drew his strange katana, he might not have a gun but he figured that he might need something to kill the guards with.  As soon as he had a firm grip on the blade, he made a seemingly suicidal charge for the other side. 

            The guards opened fire, the intense storm of metal they let loose on the saboteur might have killed him if not for the duster overcoat.  As the bullets made contact with the material, they appeared to slide off the coat as if it were actually repelling the bullets.  Though the coat was guarding his body, it didn’t protect his head or arms as he had lost the sleeves in previous missions.  Trying to tuck his exposed body parts out of the lead storm’s path, he pushed forward and lowered his head quickly as a bullet ricocheted off the lengthened collar of the coat.  A few stray bullets also managed to graze his arms; leaving razor-thin streaks of blood on his skin.  This is too many close calls...  I have to end this now.  Finally reaching the guards, he proceeded to slash one of them across the chest and followed up by impaling another guard through the stomach next to him.  The guards hastily put their rifles to their side holsters as they desperately reached for their combat knives before this punk managed to kill them all.  The man didn’t waste time in letting them get out their melee weapons and literally gutted yet another guard with the blade.  As he was preoccupied in finishing the guard, another one tried to stab him in the back with a knife but like the bullets, it too slid off the mysterious fabric as the saboteur turned and replied to the attacker with a slash to the neck.

            Checking the next corner for more guards, the man spotted another guard as he scrambled for a security alarm.  Reaching for one of the Tavor rifles behind him, the man aimed carefully; if he missed and hit the alarm, he might be facing a whole platoon of guards, ready to shoot him down.  He did not need any more attention.  Finding the spot, the saboteur pulled the trigger, feeling a sense of nostalgia as the powerful recoil launched a .45 caliber round straight at the fleeing guardsman’s heart.  Just before impact, the terrified man stumbled as the round ricocheted off his shoulder blade into the alarm; destroying the switch and also setting off the alarm system.  Blast, why did he have to move?  The man knew that what had just transpired was probably just bad luck, this sort of thing had never happened when he had fought in the war.  Finishing off the bleeding guard with a quick burst from the rifle, the saboteur tossed the gun and sprinted down the hallway looking for a means of escape.

            The man knew that all the time spent working undercover for this insane project might have gone to waste just now if he didn’t survive this.  Why the hell do they have so much security for a facility that makes a vaccine for a species that doesn’t even exist anymore?  Thinking rapidly, he figured that the fire exit would get him out of the facility as the quickest method; he moved quickly toward the fire exit and hastily descended down the stairs.  It was a long descent but once he got to the bottom, he realized he had made yet another mistake; possibly a fatal one.  The fire exit was equipped with its own standard alarm that went off if it was ever opened, by doing so, the saboteur had drawn all attention to the fire exit; no doubt that the workers or any security would find and capture or possibly even kill him.

            Sure enough, the bottom floor was full of workers and a handful of armed guards blocked the entrance.  The head scientist had already gotten down somehow and stood among them with a rather noticeable welt on the right side of his head; even so, he had a relaxed expression on his face again, what could this mere boy do to get past his entire work force and security?  The man knew it was near impossible for even an armed Special Ops. team to simply beat their way out of such a compound with the security he had packed into the confines of his lab; he had planned it like that for just this kind of event.

            “Looks like you lost, kid.  Surrender the formula, and if you do, I’ll grant you a quick and painless death.”

            “Not today, you’re the one who’s lost Mr.” Retorted the young man.  Without so much as an explanation, he pulled a detonator from out of his coat and pressed the button. 

The action surprised the scientist and in response, the guards surrounding him drew their specialized Tavor V12 assault rifles.  Despite their instinct to shoot on sight, the scientist quickly called them off; staring silently at the saboteur as he waited for an explosion.  A few seconds went by and nothing had happened.  The scientist only grinned as he realized that the man had been bluffing.

“Alright kid, playtime is over so just hand over that syringe now and I just might let you live.  Now please give that to me… well?  What are you waiting for?”

The young man glared at the scientist and suddenly he realized why his last charge didn’t explode.  The bomb hadn’t misfired; he forgot that he had simply put it on a half-minute timer.  As the timer on the detonator’s display reached five, the man looked up at the ceiling above the assembled guards and scientist.

“What I’m waiting for… is for the fireworks to begin.”

The saboteur had purposefully left one charge on the floor above as a fail-safe to ensure he could get out without being detected.  This situation, he supposed, also qualified him to use necessary force.  Despite his desperation, the man was hesitant to do such a thing with all the workers in front of him and because he had spotted someone, he wasn’t sure if it was really him, in the crowd.  Just then, the display beeped; notifying him that the timer had just run out.  In that moment, the man reconsidered his hasty decision and wondered if it was really worth killing these men.

Damn!  I really wish it hadn’t come to this. 

  The explosion from the blast overhead was deafening, and it freed a crate with half-finished serum and parts of the floor above from its cement base.  As debris rained down the man looked on and thought briefly to himself.   I really hope he survives this; I don’t want to live with the guilt of killing him.  Most of the men met a rather messy end by the falling debris but some of the guards and the head scientist were repeatedly injected by the remaining crate from above with the partially completed serum.  They screamed in agony and flailed about in the debris as they forcibly assumed Pokémon forms and a couple of them actually died from the amount of the substance they had been injected with.  Ignoring them, the young man walked through the debris, strewn guts, and some of the overdosed guards almost as if nothing had ever happened.  Reaching the entrance, he turned back to look at the place he had been forced to live in for weeks.  Noticing movement, the man put his hand onto his katana in case any of them tried to stop him.

The saboteur stood and watched the debris for signs of movement with a blank expression.  He observed as the surviving guards and the head scientist rose out of the debris.  “An Aggron, a Dusclops, and…” there were some that he could not make out but the last distinguishable one; the head scientist, had been injected with at least seventeen doses of the incomplete formula and yet…

He was still alive, he had not only survived, he had taken the form of the nightmarish Darkrai.  Never in the antidote’s history had it turned a human into a legendary; such a thing would have killed a normal human just from the stress alone.  However, this was not the same antidote he was dealing with and he had extensive knowledge of just what a Darkrai could do under normal circumstances.  The man began to run through possible scenarios in his head and his hopes of surviving this mission were fading fast.  The saboteur knew that the situation had just turned from bad to worse; the assimilated guards alone could have very well killed him on their own but to face down an assimulate legendary?  Out of the question, the only option he had left was to make a break for it and make the gamble that they would be unable to do anything while they were still dazed from the explosion and their new forms. 

The young man quickly spun around and began sprinting in a desperate bid and managed to get past the clearing just as he was skimmed across his back by a dark pulse that came from within the building.  He winced in pain as he felt his back being seared by dark energy and stumbled but continued to run; the Darkrai stepped out of the building and faced him, his amber colored eyes full of rage and pure loathing.  The former scientist raised his now jet black arm in the saboteur’s direction and fired a powerful shadow ball.  Although the coat repelled bullets and bladed weapons, it certainly could not hope to repel a legendary’s fearsome might.  The dark energy penetrated the fabric and raked across the young man’s left shoulder who cried out in agony and swayed as he tried to regain his balance; the serum flying free of his inner coat pocket as he did so.  The needle landed upright and despite the fact he was bleeding profusely from his left torso which had taken the brunt of the attack he leapt for the syringe. He tried to grab it but stumbled and tripped and as he fell, his chest landed on the upward pointed needle and was injected the unknown serum. 

He stood up quickly and ran deeper into the woods, trailing blood from his back and left arm leaving behind the now empty vial of serum.  The Darkrai glared at the fading silhouette saboteur and his now empty syringe of the perfected serum; he paused for a moment, looked at his now dark, ominous form and smiled.  After a brief pause, he nonchalantly began walking after the saboteur with a shadow ball forming in his right hand.  He knew that the man would not get very far from the compound.  Even so, he signaled his former guards to start hunting for the saboteur.  His new face showed a slight hint of a smile as he began his search.

“Fool… by now you must understand the penalty for betraying me,” he glanced at the now fully-formed shadow ball, admiring it as it pulsed in his hand.  “That penalty… is a slow and merciless death.”

 

 

(Note) The term “assimulate” used in this chapter is describing the humans who underwent transformation into the form of a Pokémon.  While I’ve seen the term “Pokemorph” being used to describe a hybrid of a human and Pokémon or a complete change into a Pokémon, the characters in this story are altered so they are nearly identical to a Pokémon save for a few small features.  This term will be used a lot more in the chapters to come to separate the former people from the actual Pokémon.  Also, in the following chapters, we begin to meet the protagonists and a very important double-agent who are all crucial to the scheme of the story.  Furthermore, my pseudonym “Calik Frelark” will become one of the central protagonist’s name.  However as the fanfic continues, his position as a protagonist is put into question due to a mysterious power he has been bestowed upon.  This chapter is merely telling the events that take place which Arceus, Dialga, and Celebi foresaw. 

(Note 2) The Tavor that I put in this part of the story is actually a real weapon.  It is made by the Israeli military and as such I must state that here just for you information.  Also, I will be including a lot of real world weapons and foreign weapons in the next chapters and mixing some fictional information into them as well to make them more futuristic.  I will also add some fictional, but not unfeasible superweapons, many of which are being looked into in the present as viable weapons.

(Note 3) As we all know, bullet-proof armor does exist.  However, the armor worn by the saboteur is as light as an ordinary coat and as thin as one too yet is capable of blocking heavy rounds from an assault rifle and also bladed weapons without any noticeable marks or tears in the fabric.  While such a fabric does not exist, the concept I got this idea from is from bullet-proof tuxedos worn by executives and VIPs.  While they may not be able to block a knife or sword, they can certainly block small arms fire and are light enough to look like an ordinary tux.