Chapter 7

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"Lysandre?"

The orange-haired man was forced onto his knees by chains so tight they cut deeply into his skin. His dark clothes were worn out, unlike how shiny and clean they usually were. His ambitious blue eyes were dark with rage and fear. He'd been beaten, his skin swollen with bruises of red and violet. His usually tamed hair was thrown all over the place, contrasting the neat image he always portrayed of himself.

"I thought Lysandre was gone, too..."

The man's eyes absorbed his surroundings. More of his sanity slipped away with every second he saw the black void he was trapped in, and the corpses around him.

"W-What...? N-No...no, it can't be...no, let me go! LET ME GO THIS INSTANT!", he demanded, trying to break free from the chains.

They watched his struggle with contorted faces, only a tiny fraction of themselves left to have sympathy. The more he violently pulled on the metal, the more it burned deeper into his flesh.

"YOU! ALL OF YOU DID THIS! I WAS SO CLOSE TO SUCCEEDING AND YO-"

Grunts concealed by darkness cut him off. The voice didn't belong to him, but it was familiar to him. The shadows retreated to reveal the other chained prisoner.

"Xerosic?"

The Professor and the others watched as the last two members of Team Flare reunited, not caring for their presence, as if they knew their fate would invalidate this moment. Tears shed by Xerosic brought little to no surprise, although the other man crying was quite the sight to see.

"Sir, your condition! By the looks of it, you're lucky to be alive!", Xerosic commented on the blood staining Lysandre's clothes.

"Oh, well, I never said I was alive..."

The other in the room emitted the same sense of confusion as the scientist. 

Without warning, the body of a middle-aged man was dropped from above, sprawled bonelessly across the floor. All in the room repeatedly looked back at the body and the man in chains.

"I was simply re-enacting his last moments"

The chains leaving scars on his arms shattered. His hair was now dark, as were his eyes, and instead of his black and orange suit, he was clothed quite exactly like a certain trainer, only the bloodstains and bruises remained. The others in the room echoed his name, questioning whether they were still hallucinating.

"Ash..."

Sawyer and Clemont couldn't help themselves getting emotional. Serena was relieved to finally see herself proved right. The rest stared on in shock. 

"I knew it! I told you, all of you! I've been talking to him!", the honey-blonde claimed with maniacal laughter.

Clemont thought back.

"So if you'd like to visit Ash everyday before that...you're more than welcome to"

"Ash isn't gone. He's here. I've been talking to him and visiting him"

'TALK TO ME HERE'

So the honey-blonde wasn't hallucinating after all.

The boy resembled his own appearance in the coffin, except one of his hands was trapped in a certain black cuff, and the other held a sculpted piece of gold. 

"That's what Lysandre used to hold him captive...", Xerosic murmured with shaking lips as he watched the boy make his way to a young lemon-haired girl and kneel down.

"You missed some details in your picture", Ash explained, handing her the trophy.

His pale, bony fingers wrapped themselves around the neck of Lysandre's body, lifting it off of the ground. His head hung at the hands of the young boy, the sight itself torturing Xerosic. The man was unable to find his voice, so much that he started to choke violently. Blood seeped from his mouth as his final moments of suffocation ended, and his body was thrown into the reflective surface of the dark void, the chains still clinging onto him.

Ash, with the same empty eyes he was seen with behind glass, turned to face the last few victims of his revenge, stretching out his hand to reach them.

Their senses drowned in a blur of agonized cries, the void shattering as their suffering got louder.

And finally, after what felt like forever, they got back their sense of reality.

"Please stop screaming!"



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