Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Quenched Torch

Chapter 46: Wings of Dishonor

It'd happened so fast and so suddenly. One moment, I was hunched over on the floor looking for any lingering signs of Team Assail's bullshittery. The next, there'd been a rush of wind from outside, followed by a hard, painful strike to my back.

Though the sudden attack had missed my head, everything was foggy as pain shot through my body. As I pushed myself into a seated position against the wall, a warm feeling trickling down my back, I could briefly make out panicked yelling from my teammates as they tried to hold back a large figure, though their efforts were cut short as the Pokemon blew them back with a powerful gust of wind, knocking them out the door before blocking the entrance with the base's tables. The figure before me turned just in time for my vision to clear up, revealing...

'...oh, Arceus.'

"I warned ya, didn't I? One grubby little paw on my friends... you pay," Pike growled, unsheathing his wings as he stood before the blocked doorway. "I'd advise ya pray, but... do you fuckin' things even know what a god is?"

With this thought, the Swellow lunged at me. My dazed mind immediately scrambled to come up with a way out of this. The base was small, and Pike was cramped in here, so I had that advantage. Everything else, though...

I hurriedly scrambled out of the way in time to avoid getting slashed. Pike quickly improvised, planting his talons against the wall and launching at me, landing a blow to my chest and causing the entire section of wall to collapse from the damage it'd sustained earlier. Behind him, Rye pulled himself in through a window to try and help me, though Pike heard this and quickly did away with him by blowing a Whirlwind at said window, knocking the entire wall over and pinning the Treecko with a loud yelp. Pike's face fell as he swore quietly at the unintended result, giving me time to frantically grab for my scalchop. I wasn't sure exactly what counted as hyperventilation, but I was pretty sure what my utter panic was driving me to do by this point counted. Trembling, I swung at Pike while he was distracted, cutting him in the leg. He let out a pained squawk and flew into the air, though before he could retaliate, a brown blur launched itself into the bird. Mavy fought bravely, clinging onto Pike and clawing away as the bird flapped wildly to try and get him off, though it was short-lived as the Zigzagoon was launched through one of the gaping holes in the wall by a Whirlwind. Before I could take advantage of the momentary pause this had brought, a lightning-fast Steel Wing knocked the shell out of my paws and into the rubble.

With that, I was cornered. Pressed against what little wall was still left standing and without a weapon to protect me, I stared up at Pike as he glared over me. Before I could conjure up a Water Gun, he stomped on my chest, pressing his talons down as he held me in place for a final blow. Unable to move and with talons digging into my chest, I felt around for something, anything that'd be able to save me, and the first thing in our base's rubble my paws met happened to be my banjo. Without hesitation, I swung it at Pike, hitting him hard across the face with a dull thud.

That success was short-lived, however, as a now even more enraged Pike knocked my makeshift weapon out of my paws and reared a Steel Wing back, one aimed straight at my neck. All I could do was gasp and clench my eyes shut, knowing this was bound to be a lethal strike.

Was this really it? After everything I'd been through, after everything I'd discovered, after all I'd endured, this was how I was going to die? I, the last human this continent knew of, was just going to have my throat cut open out of some petty grudge?

I let out a mournful, shaky cry, though it only came out as a quiet breath as I waited for the killing blow...

But it never came.

A minute passed by before I mustered up the courage to pry an eye open. Pike stood motionless, his wing still glowing and reared back as a hint of confliction entered his loathing glare. His gaze momentarily drifted to my discarded banjo, then stared into my own eyes. He stayed frozen in that position for a good while until the silver glow of his wing fizzled out, and as I watched, the Swellow hung his head and slowly lowered his wing.