Bestia: an ancient energy that allows Pokémon to use their powers. Lucca Aska is a plucky Brionne raised as a hero in a world devoid of Bestia, where Pokémon must use weapons and armour to survive. Destiny has chosen Lucca and five other outcasts to...
A Typhlosion sprinted through the storm-struck forest, unaffected by the swampy ground. Behind her came the violent crashes of falling trees and the shrill cries of her pursuers. The rain had deepened into a torrential downpour that obscured her path, but the Typhlosion didn't falter. She continued to run, her head low, her mane blazing. Her front paws cradled a Cyndaquil.
Cyndaquil felt suffocated. She could just about twist her body to see ahead, but all that yielded were blurry colours that zoomed past. Her body was freezing, which made her mother's grip feel like daggers that pierced her sides. All she could do was shiver and huff as she was squeezed into her mother's drenched fur, and wait desperately for whatever was happening to end.
A loud crash made her cringe hard. Several trees very close by had collapsed to the ground. She had no idea what was going on, other than that her mother was running and something was chasing them. Every instinct made her think she was going to die. And then her mother skidded to a stop.
Her mother turned around, allowing Cyndaquil to finally see what was chasing them, but she could barely make out more than their silhouettes. There was some kind of giant Ribombee that held a staff in its long, dangly arms. It was surrounded by a host of unfamiliar Pokémon that made wild noises and stomped the ground. They cornered Mother on the edge of a cliff.
"There's nowhere else to run. Just put the child down and leave. We promise we'll let you live," the bug-type said in a posh tone. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, and a gush of wind made the fire types shiver. Cyndaquil whimpered as her Mother's grip grew tighter than before. "Don't make us have to take you as well. Just think about your odds."
Typhlosion didn't reply. She held her Cyndaquil in a stiff stance that looked ready to run again. The instant her attackers shifted toward her, she threw herself off the cliff. That was the last Cyndaquil saw of them before everything became a blur again.
She let out a frightful gasp as her body churned and her view spiralled out of control, while an even heavier wind ruffled her fur. Typhlosion's grip became so tight that she felt like she might throw up from having to breathe damp fur for so long. And just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, there was a hard splash, and then every sound was replaced with muffled noise.
Cyndaquil opened her mouth to scream, but all she got was a painful gulp of water down her throat. All of a sudden, she was deep in a cold, murky river, but still cradled so tight that she couldn't move. She squirmed, gurgled and snorted desperately as a powerful current pulled them against their will. Typhlosion took several bumps and crashes, but each one jolted Cyndaquil enough to open her mouth or sniffle, where a sharp pain coursed through her. Soon enough, her body was limp and her eyesight darkened as she gradually lost focus.
She didn't know how long she was underwater for, but it was long enough that everything felt like a hazy, feverous dream. She didn't even realise that she had been taken out of the water, but was still cradled by that overprotective grasp. Everything was blurry beyond recognition now, and she was so damp that water cascaded off her. Desperate coughs and gasps were all she could manage. It felt like Typhlosion managed two more steps before they collapsed, and she was squashed into the swampy ground below.
