Pokémon Distraught X/Shattered Y

Prologue

It is night and the city is quiet.

Explosions and earthquakes have been going off non-stop. People have been killed, displaced, evacuated. Most of the southern side of Lumiose, once a busy hub of trade and comradeship, is a mess of broken bodies and crumbled stone.

Almost everyone that is still alive has fled to Anistar City, Shalour City, Courmarine City. They have not been affected by the destruction.

One man is still in the city.

_

Professor Augustine Sycamore walks under a dimly lit bridge, scraggly garlands of fairy lights providing a miniscule amount of light in the darkness. There was supposed to have been a parade for the new Champion, but the destruction started before the scheduled date.

He is searching for other survivors, his Garchomp following behind for his protection. The six Poké Balls containing the starter Pokémon he gives to young trainers are in his backpack, protected from the world.

"Gryyyyyyyy." Garchomp scans the area, snapping her head around to examine every angle. The Mega Stone around her neck flashes, and Sycamore feels his hand reaching for the Key Stone he has clipped to his collar.

"Do you see anything?" Sycamore asks his Pokémon. The land shark shakes her head and growls again. She must be hungry.

They rest for a moment, Sycamore and Garchomp splitting a loaf of French bread. He gives her a sip of water from his Thermos, and drinks a bit himself. When they feel a bit better, they stand up and think about where to go.

"I think we should go that way," Sycamore says, gesturing southeast so Garchomp can understand.

"Grooo," Garchomp agrees. She sniffs the air and squeaks, pushing Sycamore in the direction he is gesturing.

Sycamore does not scold the Pokémon- she knows this part of the city better than he does. His old assistant Alain found the sick Gible here, the Gible that they took in and raised until she became strong. Until she learned to care about others.

Alain is dead. So many people are dead.

So it is only natural that Sycamore stops in his tracks when he hears something moving in the alleyway.

At first he thinks that it is a Pokémon- the movements are slight and weak.

"Hello?" He calls.

There is no verbal response, but the movements seem to be getting closer. Something knocks over a trash can, and Garchomp springs into her battle pose, claws out. Sycamore unties his flashlight from around  his belt and shines it into the alleyway.

An young woman is standing beside the knocked over trash can, shielding her eyes from his flashlight. The top half of her face is covered by a silver visor, with a thin teal line glowing across the center. Red lines of blood drip out of her hand, which appears to have been crushed by a large object, and more blood is coming out of her lip. Her red shirt has been torn to shreds, and is covered in cement dust and wood splinters. She is missing shoes, and the scratches along her feet and legs give the impression that she has walked quite a long way.

Sycamore extends a steadying hand to the girl, which she reluctantly takes. He moves her out to the street and leans her against the wall.

"You're hurt," he tells her.

"I know," she says. Her voice sounds like she doesn't use it much.

"You need urgent medical attention."

"Not me," she says. "The others."

"There are others?" Sycamore prys.

"Yes. In the east." She removes her hands from her face once he has turned his flashlight off. "I walked from the Flare Café to here."

The Flare Café.

Sycamore studies the red, white and black uniform she is wearing, her blue tie serving as a bandage for a particularly large wound on her thigh. Her sleeves and shredded and the body is covered in dust, but the chipped belt buckle bears an unmistakable red symbol.

She is, or was, a member of Team Flare, but Sycamore has no time for conflicting moral decisions. Team Flare were not good people, but in a natural disaster, everyone is a good person, and everyone who can survive needs to survive.

"Let's get over there as quickly as possible," Sycamore says to Garchomp.

"Hurry," the Flare scientist says. She dashes off as quickly as she can with those wounded feet, and Sycamore runs after her. She does not stop when he catches up to her, and they chase her across the city until she finally stops, in front of a collapsed building.

"Here," she says. She collapses onto the ground, but does not faint. Sycamore kneels down and offers her a drink of water, which she accepts gratefully, also using a small amount of the water to clean the bloody scratches on her legs. While she is doing that, Sycamore motions for his Pokémon to check for the supposed survivors.

"Graaaaa." Garchomp dives into the rubble and moves several large pieces to the side, revealing the broken bodies of three other women. All are unconscious, but with varying states of injury.

The one with short purple hair has blood running down her face from a gash above her advanced glasses, her fingers on her right hand are bent in all sorts of wrong directions, and her leg looks fractured. It is hard to tell from here.

The one with green hair has had her visor smashed completely, and one of her legs is definitely broken. She has scratches down her body as well.

The final woman, who looks to be the oldest, seems to have been injured the worst. Dried blood coats her orange-brown hair, and her neck is broken for sure. There is so much blood on her uniform that it looks like she took a swim in the Lumiose Canal.

Garchomp pokes the orange-haired woman, who doesn't appear to be breathing. She gurgles, and coughs up blood into one of her gloves.

"You..." She says, her voice so raspy Sycamore has to strain to hear it. "You've come to...kill me, huh..." She tries to manage a laugh, but howls in pain, blood dribbling out the sides of her mouth.

"Don't provoke her!" Sycamore shouts. The woman has lost enough blood already- she is already in dangerous need of a transfusion. To the woman he says, "Don't speak. Don't move. Help is on the way."

Sycamore reaches for his phone and calls the emergency hotline. He waits, minutes seeming like hours, staring at the women with a burning fear behind his eyes, not wanting them to die on him. The blue-haired woman has closed her eyes (he presumes, as he cannot see the top half of her face) and is holding her head in her hands. Sycamore wants to run to Kiloude City, where the hospital drones are kept, but all he can do is wait.

Hopefully another tremor doesn't happen.

But all he can do is wait.