Chapter Twelve: The Awakening
Chapter Twelve: The Awakening
Bevan opened his eyes, feeling confused, but extraordinarily well-rested. All he could make out was that he was in a dim room. Too dazed to analyse the situation, he shut his eyes again.
Opening them one more time, he could make out a person. He managed a groan, and then tried to lift his hands. And failed. In a matter of seconds, he realised that they were bound by chains to the chair he was sitting in. This snapped him into full alertness.
"Wha-wha- Charlotte? What happened?" He replayed the events in his mind as he asked. "You – you tried to kill me!"
"No," said Charlotte, shaking her head. "I just shot you with a dart."
"Oh – you drugged me! Much better!" Bevan was enraged. He thought this girl was his friend.
Charlotte knelt down in front of Bevan. "It was Butterfree Sleep Powder. Enough to quickly knock you out and keep you in deep sleep, but not enough to cause any damage."
"Why am I chained up?"
"So we can ensure you don't run away."
"We?" Bevan scowled. "Who's 'we'? Are you working for my father?"
"Quite the opposite, actually. I work as one of Dagger's operatives."
"D-Dagger? The terrorist?" Something clicked. "You were sent to kidnap me! I'm the immediate family of an Oligarch!"
Charlotte looked down with shame. "Bevan, I was sent so that I was in a position to kidnap you if need be. But the plan changed. And, the plan changed a second time when I suffered Penalty F. Granted, I was hysterical, but, they don't leave Penalty F victims alive for long."
Bevan shook his head. "What plan!?"
"To train you as a Cloak, drug you, and take you back here. To be part of
The Knife."
"The Knife?"
"The name of our group."
"Why did you want to do that in the first place?"
"You're a fast learner and you hate abuse of power. And, what we're dealing with here, is a massive abuse.
"There is a person in government pulling all the strings. A chessmaster, and we are the pieces. Lord Augury. He controls all of the Oligarchs, the underground world, and has a group of ruthless assassins working for him."
"And that's why you're killing innocent people?"
Charlotte looked away. "Speaking honestly, I disagree with how Chris – that is to say, Dagger – does things. But he gets results. And, as it turns out, you've just been moved up from Pawn to Rook in this chess game."
"What – why? What does this whacky conspiracy theory have to do with me?"
Charlotte stood up and pulled over the high-quality television leaning against the wall, which Bevan had failed to notice earlier. "This was found encrypted in Manfred von Stauffenberg's computer. He was the leader of the cult I escaped from."
She pushed the red button, and the TV lit up.
On the television screen, Evan Emerit walked into the room with Rex.
"My Lord," said von Stauffenberg contemptibly.
"Manfred," said 'Evan'. But Bevan could tell that it wasn't his father. Not really. His voice was strangled and seemed to be in stereo. His face had a crazed look, his eyes bulging dangerously.
"This is Rex," said Augury. "He is my new second: I thought you may like to meet the man you'll be doing business with many times in the future."
"Too good to deal with me yourself, Augury? I'm not dealing with your agents; I barely enjoy dealing with you."
Rex raised his hand, and the priest was flung against the wall telekinetically. "Watch your tongue," he taunted.
Charlotte switched it off. "It… goes on like for a while. I suppose you think we doctored that?"
Bevan mouthed a few things to himself, and something in his head snapped. "N-no. That voice, that voice that my father was using… I've heard him use it before. I'll never forget. It was the voice that he used on the night my mother was taken away. He – he didn't take her away because she discovered that he was having an affair…"
Charlotte leaned forward. "Your mother had discovered who he was."
"And Rex… he could use psychic powers… that's why you were so scared of him."
Charlotte nodded. "Yes."
"And my father?"
"Even stronger."
"So," started Bevan, "you want me to become a terrorist, with the ultimate goal of killing my father?"
Charlotte smiled. "And bringing down the Oligarchy itself that made this kind of corruption possible."
"How? I have three Pokémon, none of which are properly trained."
"You become an intern. We'll help train you."
"Are you an intern?"
Charlotte smiled. "No. My Growlithe was, well, a decoy. Remember how I said I had a team of six? We'd managed to regain three of them. The other three are… irreparably brainwashed, I'm afraid. However, I'll now be using Togetic, Roselia, and Iserno."
"And Growlithe?"
"Belongs to someone else," shrugged Charlotte. "She – Growlithe – was eager to help."
"And if I refuse to help you?"
Charlotte looked away. "W-well…"
Bevan glared at her. "You'll kill me, won't you?"
"N-not me personally. I couldn't."
"Yeah right, Charlotte. Are you going to pretend that you're still my friend? That you couldn't do it?"
Charlotte met his gaze, her eyes prickling. "You are my friend! At least – I still consider you so. I doubt you think of me as such. But you'll come to realise that we have two choices: Augury or Dagger."
"And you chose the lesser of two evils?"
Charlotte nodded. After a pause, Charlotte started talking again. "Bevan… you need to decide. Will you join us?"
"No."
"Why? Just to spite me?"
"Because I'm not an idiot. I don't go up against odds this great."
"The odds are better than you think. Four people close to the Oligarchs have been killed by us. Remember the attack on Cronine Hotel a couple of weeks ago? That was a fortress, and Dagger still set a bomb off in there.
"And last night - all I had to do was push a button on my watch and a signal was sent to Dagger, and within five minutes, he and five other members of the Knife fought off the entire guard of the Academy and got you out alive. We're that good."
"Not to mention, Bevan," said a voice in the distance, "that odds don't matter to you." A man dressed fully in black stepped forward. "If you join us, I'd say you have a small, but not inconceivable chance of death. If you don't, you will most certainly die."
"Why do you wear clothes over your face, even to your allies?"
"So they cannot reveal who I am under torture," winked Dagger. "But you can call me Chris. It's a common enough name that it poses me no threat for you to know it."
"So, you want me to become an intern in your organisation, in exchange for my life?"
"And shelter, food, but most importantly, Bevan,
freedom. Charlotte evidently didn't impress this point enough on you. This is what you value above all else. As do we. Join us, and that's what you'll be fighting for. We will deconstruct the Oligarchy."
Bevan weighed his options up. Despite the immense sense of betrayal he felt towards Charlotte, and the fear he felt towards Dagger, his only other option was death. Not only this, he would finally have something to fight for. Something that he had believed in. His entire life he had been pushed around by his father, only now to discover that he controlled the entire Torcran government.
It was time to push back.
"I'm in."
"Let's see how good you are." After Bevan had been freed, and eaten, Dagger had escorted him alone to a mid-size battling arena. "We've had another intern in the past week – we usually don't have such frequent intakes. But, you're a special case, Bevan. Show us how good you are. Ready?"
Bevan nodded. There was an eighteen-year-old kid standing in front of him: short, black-haired, and looking like a pirate on account of his eyepatch.
"OK then. 3-3 single challenger standard."
His opponent grabbed a Pokéball with surprising intensity. "Taillow!"
OK, Bevan thought to himself.
A flying and normal type. Venonat's out of the question. Larvitar has a type advantage, but Taillow beats it on mobility. "Gligar, go!"
"Focus Energy!"
"Sand Attack!"
Taillow closed its eyes, preparing to gather its energy and increase its strength. Before its eyelids had even fully shut, Gligar was leaping forward, spitting sand at the bird.
The trainer scowled. "Dodge it!"
Taillow abandoned performing a Focus Energy, and rose skillfully into the air, dodging the burst of sand.
The two trainers yelled in unison, "Quick Attack!"
Both Pokémon headed rapidly towards one another: Gligar leaping up, Taillow swooping down. Bevan was ready for this: his Pokémon was stronger, and more endurant.
The other trainer clearly thought this as well. When they were an inch away from each other, he yelled, "Whirlwind!"
Taillow flapped its wings ferociously, and Gligar was hurled, spinning back against the wall.
"Curl up and Harden!"
Gligar did as it was told, its skin becoming tougher, its vital organs protected. As a result, after crashing against the wall and falling to the ground, it rose, relatively unscathed.
"Gligar," the Pokémon said, challenging its opponent.
Bevan's nameless opponent accepted that challenge. "Brave Bird!"
Taillow's eyes began to bulge with – courage, it seemed. Ruffling her feathers, she flew powerfully and swiftly at Gligar.
"Secret move time! Hyper Beam!"
Gligar turned, a complete look of confusion in his eyes. "<Are you insane?>"
Evidently Taillow felt the same way, for it turned its head, swooped off course and crash-landed into the concrete floor. A few feathers drifted into the air on impact, and a snarl crossed the trainer's face. "Return, Taillow! And that was a cheap shot, rookie."
"It seems cheap shots are all we have in this game," shrugged Bevan. On the sideline, Dagger nodded in agreement.
"Machoke! Karate Chop!"
As soon as the bulky Pokémon materialised from its ball, it lunged at Gligar, its right hand raised above its head.
"Jump and grab!"
Machoke brought down the side of its hand, but it was too slow: Gligar leapt onto Machoke's arm and implanted every claw and tooth in it. Machoke screamed in pain and tried wildly to shake it off.
"Revenge!"
Suddenly, Machoke's anger became focused. Its skin became tinted with crimson, and then it launched its entire weight onto Gligar.
"Sand Attack his eyes!"
Gligar did, but it was useless. He was pinned by the incredible, immovable frame of Machoke. Its eyes were red with the sand, but it was so focused on revenge, it didn't care. Only about one in four of its punches hit, but it was enough. Gligar was out cold.
"Return!"
As Gligar materialised, Machoke's eyes twitched. "Return, Machoke!"
"But… why?"
"You should always forfeit rather than allow your Pokémon to be defeated, if there is no hope," said Dagger. "The rush from the Revenge attack was wearing off – if Machoke were allowed to be out with that much sand buildup in its eyes, he would be in excruciating pain. You got lucky; your desperate lashing out was actually a good strategy. Let's hope you can get that lucky where it counts."
The nameless trainer wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm. "Issely!"
Emerging from the ball was Issely, a Pokémon native to Torcra. It was a golden, lionesque cub with a cute face and smooth, golden fur. Its small ears and determined eyes leered forward. It would have been positively adorable were it not for the small, sizzling flames bursting out of its fur.
"Larvitar, Sandstorm!"
Larvitar materialised, opened its mouth, and released a powerful stream of sand.
"Issely, dodge!"
The quick cub leapt out of the way of the whirling sand.
"Ember!"
"Dodge! Bite!"
Issely opened his mouth and spat molten saliva at Larvitar. Larvitar leapt out of the way and charged at his opponent, teeth glinting.
"Smokescreen!"
"Sandstorm!"
Issely's pores opened, and he released thick, black smoke. However, Larvitar's Sandstorm whipped it away, the brown swallowing the black in a cyclonic whir. Issely tried to escape the same fate as its attack, but it was caught in the winds, and hurled painfully into the wall.
"Get up, Issely! Charge!" The trainer was very nervous, now. Defeat was close.
Issely did as it was told, lowered its head, and ran for Larvitar. When it was a few feet away, Bevan yelled, "Iron Head!"
Larvitar leapt at Issely, and the two Pokémon crashed head on. Larvitar was dazed, and wobbled a bit from the pain, but Issely was by far the most damaged. The poor cub stumbled a bit, and then collapsed.
"Return," said the trainer reluctantly.
Three months of training with the Knife and I lose to some prissy Ozoldran brat, he thought angrily to himself.
Evan Emerit sat at his computer and typed an e-mail, as Lord Augury, to send to all his Oligarchs. It read:
"I know that you think you're special. You've helped me in so many ways, but you are not the only one. I, Lord Augury, have had all Oligarchs under my employ for several years now. You were not chosen by me because you were the most resilient or useful, like I told you.
"Rather, you are all fungible. Once upon a time this secrecy and rivalry between you all was beneficial and useful. Now it is a liability.
"I know you will all be enraged, but I also know that you will all have the good sense to keep quiet. Should you change your mind, as I know you might, you'll be killed on the spot.
"Had you been able to catch this Dagger terrorist, we would be able to continue in blissful ignorance, but no. That ship has sailed, my good Oligarchs, and now this is the only way for us to move forward. You're lucky: my original plan was to kill you and replace you gradually over the years, but with the recent event at the Cloak Academy, I do not have the liberty of such time.
"Make no mistake. You will see Torcra change before your eyes. Within two years, I will be the Autocrat, and you will join me as my officers. Or not; it's your choice."
He signed it with Augury's seal, and hit the "Send" button.
