A loud roar shook throughout entire network of the underground tunnels as the final dust clouds cleared. Lucied and Rufus stood back to back, some distance from each other. A low rumble sounded in the background before a large wound opened upon the wolf’s right shoulder with a loud gurgle. A fountain of blood gushed forth from the injury, the canine’s red eyes growing hazy. His vision swam as he saw the comfortable ground below him, welcoming his exhaustion with open arms…

No! the Mightyena screamed at himself mentally as he slammed his better paw hard onto the ground. Despite protest, he then also did the same with his injured one, the force causing more blood to bubble forth and drip upon the earth in irregular blobs. I… I won’t fall… not now…!

Behind him, Rufus began to stumble. The armor swayed unsteadily before with a thunderous crack, the other arm squealed as it merely hung on by a thread. Still, Seventy-three continued to sway for a while more, squeals and creaks coming from the metallic body. Broken shards of metal clinked to the floor before the guardian finally fell onto the ground with another earsplitting snap, and the dust surrounding it finally cleared, revealing that the entire armor had been sheared into two. Seventy-three looked at the broken fragments of itself as he remembered the moment they collided… the newfound force of the Mightyena’s Uniset bursting with renowned energy as it sheared through the lance… and then to the armor. Rufus’ eyes dimmed as the helmet then fell from the torso.

“You asked me… if there was really such an herb fabled to cure Zeon’s corruption,” the armor began to the surprise of Lucied. The Mightyena turned, and was shocked to see the pulverized state of Rufus, but the armor continued on despite it.

“In reality… no such herb exists. Zeon’s corruption has never been a natural creation by the Mother, as what you all are inclined to believe. It is the result of others who tried to play god… wanted to destroy the ones they hate…”

“Then why…” started the wolf, cutting Rufus from its speech. “Then why did you want to fight me, despite knowing this…?”

“Because we’re monsters, and we’re tired of our existence,” replied Rufus’ brother, finally speaking for the first time after so long. Seeming to note the Mightyena’s gaze, the torso elaborated. “Look at this: both of us, we’re simply guarding a place that’s already dead for so long – it’s been too long… and we can’t go to the world. We just want to die the way we know best – in battle. And so we’re finally defeated…” it trailed off then, raising the mangled, broken arm to the blood seal.

Lucied’s eyes widened. “Stop! What do ya wanna do?!”

If the torso could have a face, Rufus’ would have shown one of great amusement. “You do forget too easily, Mightyena,” the other guardian almost chuckled sadly. “The blood seal is what binds us to this world. Once it is destroyed…” It placed the strong thumb upon the cold iron then, soft cracks beginning to be heard. “We’ll vanish.”

“No! Stop!” the wolf yelled out. “Why do you want to die?!”

“Because we have no future,” the torso replied simply. “Well, I’ll be seeing you later… brother.”

“Yes… later,” muttered the helmet.

“Stop!” the hound screamed as he rushed to the torso, but he was too late. With a loud snap, the thumb broke the metal in which the blood seal was inscribed upon… and with a loud whoosh of the wind, the now empty torso clanked loudly as it fell upon the marble-tiled floor.

“No…” gasped out the shocked canine. Rufus himself was not affected whatsoever, but instead called to the wolf. “Take your friends and pick me up. In return, I’ll show you the true nature of this place.”

The Mightyena looked at the battered helmet for a long moment, tears running freely from his eyes. However, the wolf soon hardened his resolve and wiped away the water from his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” Saying that, he turned around to get Jacques and Fentagon, only to see the both of them standing before him and looking very conscious. Lucied blinked a few times, before…

“EH?! You’re AWAKE?!”

“Obviously,” drawled the ever-sarcastic voice of the Meowth spirit as the Umbreon shaman sweatdropped at his partner’s response. “Yeah… we just got up sometime ago… I think, after that huge disturbance…”

Lucied sighed before a small smile came to him. “Well, I guess that saves me the trouble from carrying you…” he joked weakly, and then turned back to pick up the helmet which he placed on the top of his head. “Lead the way then, Rufus.”

“Very well,” murmured the guardian. “Go through this hall and turn right at the first junction…”

Where… where am I…?

I feel a gentle breeze… no, it’s a rough breeze.

Furry arms holding me as flashes of green zoom before my eyes.

The stench of death and decay greet me as the sky suddenly dissolved into a chaotic vortex of crimson and black. I could even smell burnt flesh and ash, making my insides coil in disgust. I try to move, but find myself constrained. The one carrying me seemed to have finally notice my awaking. A sight twitching of muscles as the unknown being turned his head to me.

“You are awake,” he simply spoke, no hint of emotion in his voice.

“You know…” started Jacques as he looked at the hallway behind them. “Not a single trap has been set off ever sine we’re here…”

“It’s because no one has ever gotten past here before,” the helmet answered simply. The other three sweatdropped upon hearing that. Lucied, on the other hand, asked something he had been itching to ask all this time.

“You’re not gonna tell me there’s… four of you, is there?” the canine asked, shuddering at the possibility of another Seventy-three.

The helmet in question sighed deeply and if it were ever possible, rolled his eyes. “No, there isn’t,” he replied before announcing, “We’re here.” The other three stopped at those words and looked at the plain door in front of them. It was plain, at least, by the entire wall was encompassed with another of those blood seals, scrawled all over the dusty grey walls with real blood. Fentagon shuddered mentally at the spirits that were forced to give up their lives just for this task. Jacques, on the other hand, shuddered a little at the malicious power radiating from what was behind the door. Lucied remained quiet, but then with some difficulty, used his fore right paw and opened the door, only to have a heavy stench of decaying flesh assaulting his sharp nose. He cringed as he entered the place, eyes watery from the putrid stench. The shaman entered right after him with the spirit in tow, only to have both gasp out in shock. “In the name of… what happened here?”

Lucied finally opened his tearing eyes at that, only to gasp in astonishment and fright at the macabre scene before him. It was a small lab, the place chocked with a inch layer of dust. The pristine white walls were stained with dried, foul blood that had been there since so long ago, along with several skeletons splattered with dried crimson. The Mightyena also noted with great distaste at the maggots that resided in the room as well. Fortunately, there were not many of them left. Huge gas cylinders lined in one side of the room, all of the casings shattered. Broken instruments piled on the tables on the other sides of the room, and numerous photos were tacked upon the walls. Mystified, the wolf trotted up, paws scraping along dried bloodstains as Lucied looked in disbelief at what the photos depicted.

Every photo showed a creation that seemed to born out of a nightmare. There was one picture of a twitching Ariados with Golbat wings sprouting from its midsection, fangs gleaming with colorless venom from its gaping maws. A Seviper’s tail streamed down from where the stinger was supposed to be, and the each of the spindly legs had split into three smaller ones, each ending with a claw laced with poison. Below the gruesome picture, a piece of paper was pinned there, the scrawled words there more than enough to know just what the ghastly sight was. “Experiment 0756 – Type 1000: The Hanged Man.”

Lucied shivered as he shifted his sights to another photo depicting a second nightmarish chimera. A huge, bulky Salamence, the dragon-type had its wings torn off and replaced with six new wings of a Pidgeot, the feathers a dusty blue. The tail was also chopped off and swapped with, strangely, and Articuno’s tail. The dragon’s forelegs had also be substituted with strong, but still so very wrong-looking talons. Finally, the face had been pull back, now so rounded like an Ekans’. Beside the photo was a fastened note, the paper brown with age, but the handwriting upon it still legible. “Experiment 1853 – Type 3000: Judgment,” he muttered to himself before looking at the next picture and gasping out.

It was the five-headed serpent chimera they had faced outside, above. They had hardly changed from time the photo was taken – gaping maws that dripped with venom, the serpent heads and crimson eyes that gleamed at them… looking at the tabbed note, he saw the realization of just why that monster was there. “Experiment 2659 – Type 8000: The Tower,” the label went.

So that thing… was a creation here… no wonder… the wolf realized the words that Seventy-three had spoken earlier. (‘just for this herb, you killed The Tower, The Emperor and The Empress?’) Wait… then that means… realization clicked in the hound’s brain as he swiveled about, not caring the strange looks Jacques and Fentagon were giving to the canine. After some glancing, the Mightyena found what he was looking for. Padding to the two photos that were pinned side by side on one of the softboards hung up there they showed the two chainsaw-wielding chimeras that the group had encountered before they were separated. Below the photos was the label, this time the words typed mechanically in fading ink. “Experiment 3675 – Type 8000: Emperor and Empress.”

“Yes, they were all creations in this very place,” Rufus said from the top of the dark-type’s head. Lucied jerked a little in surprise, the sudden movement causing the helmet to fall from his head. The wolf had completely forgotten about the helmet resting in between his ears. The canine turned to see the armored head rolling towards the base of the sterilized (as it used to be) that lay in the middle of the place.

“Sorry,” muttered the wolf as he reached out to pick up the helmet…

…only to be thrown backwards.

“Lucied!” both Jacques and Fentagon shouted in surprise as they started to rush towards him, only to be blown back as well. Fortunately, the spirit and cushioned his shaman from the worst as they smashed against the wall. Lucied himself groaned as he shook his head to clear the dizziness… and as his vision focused, the first thing the raven hound saw was a pair of graceful, jet-black paws. The air around him started to hum with intense energy before the wolf snapped his head up to meet the familiar mocking gaze of recognizable crimson eyes.

“So, we meet again,” Mewtwo said with a well-known smirk.

I gritted my teeth in pain as I was tossed upon the cold dungeon floor. A mouthful of blood flew from my raw throat as the icy stone chilled my warm black skin. I think a bit more of my horns were chipped too. But that was the least of my worries. With hazy vision, the seemingly canine being regarded me with emotionless eyes as he knelt down and laid a tray of food in front of me.

“Eat,” he commanded, “when the Lord returns, you must be presented before him, and he does not appreciate anyone, most of all you, to be so feeble when it happens.”

“You!” was all that could come from the stunned Mightyena’s mouth.

Like a repeat of events past, a smirk formed upon the clone’s face, “Yes, me,” Mewtwo responded. “Seems interesting on how we always meet, doesn’t it?”

Lucied growled lowly, eyes starting to take on an eerie red glow. “You’d better stop beating about the fuckin’ bush and get to the point,” the angered wolf warned. Needless to say, Jacques and Fentagon were taken aback by the sudden change in their companion. Mewtwo, however, seemed hardly fazed by the caution as his red tail swept up the tattered helmet containing Seventy-three’s soul and with an elegant paw, grabbed the item and greeted it like an old friend. “Good to see you Rufus, after all this years. How’s your brother?”

The yellow orbs widened at the fallen clone’s voice. “You… you’re…” but before the helmet could finish, Mewtwo narrowed his scarlet eyes and with that same paw, shattered the helmet into countless metallic pieces. The remaining three only looked in fear as the legendary so viciously and brutally ended the guardian’s life. Another growl escaped from Lucied’s throat. “You bastard,” he snarled.

“I’ve been called worse names than that,” the arrogant clone replied simply before letting yet another of those annoying smirks to cross his face. Turning to the trio, Mewtwo then asked all of a sudden. “Do you know how Zeon’s Corruption was formed?”

Jacques was the one who responded. “It’s a punishment sent by the Mother… to the ones who are unworthy of living… the ones who have committed mortal sins in their past lives…” muttered the Umbreon shaman softly in fear of the vicious feline.

Eyelids closed over flashing garnet eyes as a small ‘Humph’ came from the clone. “Hmm. That’s true - or at least what my beloved has been saying to deceive everyone all this time.”

Again, Lucied was taken aback by this new discovery. ‘What… what?!” the Mightyena exclaimed. “Then what is Zeon’s Corruption?!”

For the first time, a glimmer of pain sparked in the clone’s eyes as he turned to look at the small lab. “Zeon’s Corruption… was originally a toxic designed by humans to kill all manner of Pokemon, including the legends. It was odorless, colored and could be carried by air. It was created to destroy every Pokemon from the inside… and it was near completion when I was brought here.”

Fentagon’s emerald eyes hardened quickly at the last sentence. “You were brought here?” the Meowth spirit questioned without hesitation after all, it was impossible to hide oneself, spirit or not from the sheer power of a legend – even if said legend was fallen. “What do you mean by that, Mewtwo?”

“If you recall, Lucied, I told you that I was framed from the death of Ho-Oh, and then jailed, only to be set free by Rukario,” the clone said. “Let me continue my story from then. After escaping, I wandered about for a few years before fate caught up to me again. I was captured once again, and then brought before Mew herself.” It was then when a twisted smirk came upon the feline. “Ah, she had such a cold and calculative mind… she promised that I would be sent to a better place, but instead, she struck a deal with the humans here who were developing the toxin. In exchange of sparing her, I would then be their toy to play with.”

All three gasped at this shocking revelation, but Mewtwo continued on. “Thirteen years, I was kept here, experimented… tortured in the worst way possible… thirteen years of hell, thirteen years… I swore to myself, when I would get out of here, Mew… I would court back the debt of thirteen years.”

The final line struck a chord within the Mightyena as he recalled the blood red scrawl all the way back upon the ancient obelisk within the shrine at Dakota… (‘at last, the debt of thirteen years shall be repaid’) “That means that… you wrote that back in Dakota!” Lucied realized, only to frown yet again as another of those annoying, arrogant smirks crossed the feline’s dark features once more.

“Yes, I wrote that, after I escaped from this place. Rukario… he came again, to rescue me, but in the process… he was killed, and I destroyed the entire place in rage. This place was once the laboratory of the humans developing the toxin, if I had not told you that yet. And so, when I had destroyed the place, the toxins were scattered into the atmosphere. However, due to their incompletion and instability, they morphed, resulting in what you all know as ‘Zeon’s Corruption’. Mew did quite a splendid job on covering all of this.” He added the last part as an afterthought, smirk still on his lips.

Jacques stood there, shocked and taken aback by all these sudden disclosures. For so long, the Umbreon thought he deserved this… like a punishment for whatever crimes he had committed. But now… all of this… was the result of humans? It was totally unbelievable… almost impossible… but it was the truth, and nothing more or less.

“Oh, yes… I regret to inform you that I must need your Houndoom friend for a while… then again, I guess my servant has long taken him for me.”

Lucied’s own crimson eyes widened before the Mightyena snapped.

“BASTARD!” screamed the wolf as the tinge of black started to swim into his right eye again, something that, for once, interested the clone. Before Mewtwo could say anything else, however, the canine had disappeared in a flash, appearing behind the clone and released one of his Shadow Ball attacks, although the edges were tainted with a midnight-black tint. But even without looking, the clone raised a lithe paw and caught the sphere with it. Before Lucied could respond to this shock, Mewtwo ruthlessly threw back the spiraling energy sphere with such force that when it hit the wolf dead on, it caused the canine to slam harshly upon the cold metal table. The dark-type groaned as he slid off, weakened as the impact caused the table to split into half before the now fearful eyes of Jacques and Fentagon.

“Hn. Still too weak, Mightyena,” Mewtwo mocked as he turned his back to the three, a shimmering portal suddenly appearing before the clone. He then stepped, foot by foot, into the gateway. “If you want your friend back… come to my fortress. Your guide will come naturally if you have the desire to get the Houndoom back. Enter Necropolis, Citadel of the Dead; there, you can have what you truly want.” With that, the clone disappeared completely into the portal as it gave a shudder and vanished.

Despite everything, I ate what was offered to me, even if I hated it. There was no taste at all; I wanted the taste of raw meat, the sight of blood as it would rain from my prey, the sweetness that would slide down my throat, the sheer – what the hell was I thinking?! I mentally slapped myself for think such macabre thoughts. This place must have been really getting into my head pretty bad. I’ve never lusted for this kind of… bloodlust before.

Just then, the iron door in front of me opened yet again, my jailor striding up to my weakened state.

“The Lord has returned, and he requests your presence.”

The rain slowly subsided, leaving a refreshing breeze in its wake. Javas only looked at the tearful Lucied as the Mightyena continued to gaze at the dreaded mountain ranges. Jacques and Fentagon were recuperating, partly in concern for the Umbreon’s health. Saital was perched on the lower branches of the tree they rested under, a sorrowful gaze cast upon the heavens as the Pidgeotto moaned for the Houndoom she could not save. The ice feline fingered the tatters of his cloak as he spoke again. “Look, Lucied… we all grieve for Ifrit’s loss, and we will get him back. A mercenary never gives up on what he wants,” the alchemist tried to comfort the watery-eyed wolf.

“Y-yeah…” the canine murmured. “Ifrit won’t be so pleased to see my cryin’ like this. We’ll save him… we’ll go to this Necropolis… and save him!” His resolve hardened as he spoke those words, a firm knowledge that whatever the cost… he would save his best and truest friend. Saital, hearing this, fluttered down from he branch she was on and added, Yes; we must save Ifrit – the prophecy cannot be complete without him. It is fate that brought all of you together, and so it will be by fate that we save him from the darkness.

Javas grinned. “You know, Madame, that’d most likely the most sentimental words you have spoken so far.”

“U-um…” started the timid voice of Jacques. All three turned to look at the Umbreon shaman as the Eon Pokemon nervously asked, “Is it alright if I join you all…? I feel responsible for the loss of Ifrit-san as well, even if I did not have the chance to know him as long as the three of you did. I might be weak and frail, but I hope that my-” he was abruptly cut short when Fentagon rasped his companion’s skull.

“You’re dragging things too long, Jacques,” snapped the irritable spirit before turning to Lucied. “What he wants to say is that he wants to see the world fully before this venom claims him. Now that he knows his illness isn’t some divine punishment, he wishes to live the rest of his life fully before he passes on. Savvy?”

“Savvy?” echoed the once bionic-armed Sneasel as he quirked an eyebrow. “That’s sounds rather… pirate-ish, if you get my drift.”

“Feh,” snorted the Meowth spirit in amusement. “I’m no Pirate Lord who talks like a drunkard, insists on everyone addressing me as ‘Captain’ and reputed to have cheated death more times than anyone’s willing to count – heck, I’m already dead.”

Everyone sweatdropped at that statement. Javas then coughed awkwardly before then asking the Mightyena (for everyone considered him the leader now already) a question. “Hey, Lucied, mind if we take a detour first? I need to visit my mechanic… Rukario trashed my arm pretty good.”

The Mightyena looked at the Sneasel for a while before nodding. “I guess we can – we can get some rest and plan the route to Necropolis… if your mechanic doesn’t mind, of course.”

At that, the feline seemed to sigh in exasperation. “No, I don’t think so. In fact, I think my mechanic would be very happy to see me… as well as the Pikachu who I consider as my one and only rival.”

Lucied sweatdropped. “Uh-huh…”

Saital took into the air, maroon feathers a stark contrast to the vibrant blue sky as she called out to them. Well, to Javas’ mechanic then, shall we?

The Mightyena grinned. “Yeah! Let’s go, you all!” he exclaimed as he bounded off, knowing that whatever would happen, Ifrit would be rescued… however, in his thoughts, Lucied and the rest had forgotten about one small detail…

“H-hey!” Jacques shouted as he chased after the trio. “Wh-what about me?!”

The shadowy doors swiveled open, and the tendrils slithered away at the arrival of Rukario. The cold legend stepped through the doors, eyes never flinching as he carried an unconscious Houndoom over his shoulder. Unlike before, the shadows seemed to wilt away at the presence of the two hounds. Barely registering the fact, Rukario walked up to the front of the throne and laid the two-horned hound on the floor. “My Lord,” the Wave user greeted respectfully.

Mewtwo’s eyes opened, and looking at the prize upon the red carpet, smirked. “So, you’ve brought him here. I am glad – I will make sure to give you another blood pack for this, maybe two.”

There was an uncomfortable look in Rukario’s eyes for a moment before the canine blocked it out. “I am grateful, my Lord. I shall take my leave now.” Saying that, the fallen legend turned and quickly strode out of the room, the door closing with an ominous slam. Mewtwo stood from his throne and walked down the stairs, drinking in the sight of the prone Houndoom lying before him. He studied the ragged canine as its uneven breaths came out one by one, as the distinctive gleam of the horns revealed the many chipped and cracked areas that he never knew existed, at the scars the fire-type bore after battling Ho-Oh…

His thoughts were then broken as a low moan sifted its way out of the Houndoom’s throat. The clone watched with an amused look as the fire-type finally regained consciousness and looked in a mixture of shock and awe at where he was now, seemingly disregarding the feline in front of him. Mewtwo took a moment to adore those familiar black eyes before speaking to get the hellhound’s attention.