[Yandere Meowscarada x Reader] I'll Make Them All Disappear!

82 | Moth to the Flame

A beam of white light rips through the air, barely missing Zoroark's throat. She side-steps and breaks into a feral sprint, running on all fours as the beam of light explodes into a cloud of sparkling dust behind her. She narrowly dodges another spike risen from the ground and latches onto the crystal throne, climbing its smooth body.

Terapagos is small but calculated, its crystals gathering into a kaleidoscope of attacks that converge into forked bullets of energy. Its attention redirected, it flings a volley of light orbs at Cinnamon, who is staying true to her trainer's advice and keeping from touching the ground for very long. She uses her blue flames to propel herself closer, and backpedals mid-air every so often to flawlessly kick any airborne attacks out of flight. A thicker spike rises from the earth, threatening to impale her stomach, but she is too quick for it; Cinnamon twirls and shatters its girthy, jagged body with a single kick.

A beam of light shoots out toward her, hitting her right when she's let her guard down. She gasps, holding her arms in front of her face to block most of the damage but takes it anyway, and is flung down into the ground.

Meanwhile, Zoroark inches closer to the top of the crystal throne, where Terapagos—supposedly the king of this godforsaken place—is standing. She barely manages to scrape past a sharp jewel jumping out at her, and it goes shredding along the side of her shoulder, slicing a thin line out of her. Zoroark throws herself on top of the crystal, still on all fours, charging the small blue creature with her limbs stamping the ground with raw, visceral fury.

She grabs for the creature's small neck. Barely misses it, and is punched in the gut by an explosive ball of light. Terapagos slowly backs up, its eyes blazing white as barrage after barrage of crystal ammunition rains down upon the white fox. A stake is driven through Zoroark's shoulder. She clenches her jaw, drool leaking from her pained lips as she quickly reaches up and snaps the crystal in half. She arms herself with it, turning the pointed end toward Terapagos, looking more like a swordsman than a Pokémon, and attempts to stab its razor-sharp tip through the creature's throat.

A shield blocks her strike, and she throws down the crystal blade to roll out of the way of another beam of light.

"For something so small, you sure are slippery as all hell," she growls, seamlessly dodging another beam.

"And yet you will persist. When will sinners learn?" Terapagos ducks out of Zoroark's reach when she lunges and hops from the top of the crystal. From this height, the fall will be fatal, but Zoroark knows this thing hasn't taken that into consideration. It is not thinking of death. It must be thinking of sweet, radiant splendor and prestige over peasants like her and the rest. She starts to chase after it when a blinding white light seizes the cavern, jeweled light throwing abstract reflections all along the walls.

A ball of energy encapsulates the small creature, holding it, cradling it. Zoroark impatiently watches from atop the crystal as Terapagos, slowly but surely, begins to change form, safe in its crystal cocoon for but a moment.

"Coward," Zoroark whispers, her eyes glowing with Terapagos' light. "You fucking coward."

The sight is no less than extraordinary. Wide tongues of energy lap at Terapagos' small body, curling into a ball of blinding light. Colors of all kinds flicker in and out of the Tera-charged orb, a rainbow running down the walls, splashing into everyone's eyes. When the creature emerges from its shell, its form is changed entirely—it looks exactly as it had in the Violet Book. A crown hovers above its head. A long, bright mane flows along its body. Its legs have seemingly vanished beneath its elongated shell, and its body rests on a gargantuan scaled ornament made up of a million Tera Jewels.

The most stunning thing about Terapagos' form is that its body is covered in what look like the marks of Pokémon types—one for Ghost, another for Fire, another for Grass, and it goes on and on, wrapping entirely around the creature's shell.