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Old March 25th, 2017 (10:37 AM). Edited March 25th, 2017 by Nuclear Chicken.
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A Pokémon Tale of Dystopia And Corruption

Preface


Unity is a story that I am currently writing, set in a dystopian future of the Pokémon universe. It will focus on the region of Petalia, and the newest threat to its fragile, post-apocalyptic world.

Some brief context to the story for those unfamiliar with Petalia:
Petalia is the last remaining (or so they thought) region of the Pokémon world. It is riddled with problems such as pollution (so bad that when you are outside you must wear protective clothing and a gas mask) government corruption, and dangerous feral Pokémon.

Want to know more about Petalia? Read about its finer details in its very own Pokémon World thread here. Keep in mind that it is unfinished and I am not currently working on finishing it, though I do intend to.

Whilst there are many layers to Petalia, Unity will focus on the antics of the mysterious shadow corporation known as Orchid Corp. Particularly its leader, Simon Rowanopoulos.

Unity is loosely based on the events of Sanctuare, my WoPC region.

If you have any constructive criticism to offer, please do.

Thanks for reading!


Table Of Contents


Chapter 1: The Letter
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Old March 25th, 2017 (10:38 AM).
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Nuclear Chicken Nuclear Chicken is offline
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CHAPTER 1


A middle-aged, obese man sat quietly in his dark office. The overhead lights were dimmed, and bookshelves lined the walls. His large hands, clasped together, rested gently on the desk in front of him. He sank deeper into his chair and let loose a long, tired sigh.

A Pokémon, who was formerly perched on one of the bookshelves, gracefully descended from its position, landing on the carpeted floor and prancing over to the man. It was pink, hairless, and feline in appearance. Its eyes and head were disproportionately large, and it seemed to lack a mouth.

The Pokémon’s fine whiskers twitched, and its long, wiry tail swayed back and forth. Its massive eyes gazed at the man intently, who paid the creature no mind, until it leaped off the ground into the man’s lap.

“Hello Layla,” the man said, calmly stroking the Pokémon’s hairless head. His voice was deep and heavy. It quietly purred in response.

The room was small and warm. A single, large glass window provided no light, but rather the thick smog of the outside, and the faint shadows of buildings.

There was a sudden tapping on the office’s metallic door. The man didn't respond, continuing to gently stroke his pet. The knock came again, but this time louder. “Come in,” the man sighed, tiredly.

The door made a light whirring sound as it automatically slid open. A woman walked in. She was stiff and poised, her hands clasped behind her. Her dress, which was neatly cropped at her knees, was fitted, expensive-looking, and a dull purple. Her hair, a platinum blonde, was styled into a sharp bob. Her pale face was stiff and pinched, and she held a letter in her hands.

“Masina, darling!” the man exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “How are you?”

“I am well, Simon,” the woman responded, calling Mr. Rowanopoulos by his first name; a privilege earned by years of friendship, though she spoke to him as though he was nothing more than a business partner. “And you?”

“Oh, you know me. I’m hanging in there,” he chuckled, cracking his knuckles (a habit of his). “What is that you have in your hand there?”

“A letter. It was fo-“ Masina began, before being cut off.

“A letter?” Simon interrupted, in disbelief. “A paper letter?”

“Yes, a paper letter,” Masina confirmed, calmly. “It was found by a child on her way to school, in the beak of a dead Swanna. It was promptly confiscated by the Petalian Agency of Defense and has been identified as not native to the region.”

Simon rubbed his temples with his large hands. “So you found an extinct Pokémon… carrying a letter made out of an extinct plant? Is that it?”

“We believe the Pokémon was sent by another civilization, and succumbed to the pollution in the air shortly after reaching the coast,” Masina elaborated. “A necropsy is currently underway.”

Simon winced. “There are no other civilizations, Masie… we confirmed that years ago.” His rotund body became visibly tense, and he shifted in his seat.

“You do want to see the letter, don’t you?” Masina asked.

Simon was silent for a moment, before returning to reality. “Oh, yes. Bring it to me.”

Masina approached the man, and set the letter on his desk. The paper was grainy and a light brown, and it was sealed by some kind of sap. It was covered in soot and smelled of chemicals (trademarks of Petalia’s climate). The man peeled open the flap with his massive and cumbersome hands, and read the letter aloud.

“This letter is addressed to the authorities of the civilization on the surface,” Simon read. The writing was delicate and beautiful. “For years we have been trying to reach you. We reside deep in the ocean, a great distance away from you. Your island is almost invisible to us!

Finally, after years of selective breeding and intensive training, a Swanna with enough stamina to fly to you was born. We named this Swanna ‘Unity’ in the hopes that she may bring our two nations together. If you share our ideals, we implore you to return Unity to us with a response. She knows the way back by heart.

I dearly hope that we can one day meet, face to face.

-Lady Winslade”

“Well, we certainly can’t send back the Swanna, can we?” the man said, placing the letter on his desk.

“How are we to proceed?” Masina asked.

“This is puzzling…” Simon responded, lightly stroking the feline Pokémon on his lap. “How could our drones have missed this… underwater society?”

Masina brushed her hair off her forehead nervously. “There is a certain portion of the ocean that our drones cannot scan. The explanation has always been naturally-occurring magnetic interference. If the civilization is located there, we would not be able to detect it.”

“Why was I unaware of this ‘certain portion of the ocean'?” Simon asked, visibly annoyed.

Masina’s voice was shaky. “It wasn’t relevant,” she answered, timidly.

“From now on everything is relevant, Masina,” Simon ordered, fiddling with his waxy mustache, nervously. “I want you to send a submarine to that location immediately.”

“Understood,” Masina said. She then turned, and slowly walked out of the room. The metal door slid open, and closed behind her.

• • •

Masina's heels clicked against the plastic floors of the Rhinestone Institute, the largest institution for scientific research in Petalia. Many years ago, it was bought out by Orchid Corporation, and now serves as their headquarters.

And on the 45th floor of the Rhinestone Institute, tucked into the depths of its long, winding hallways is the office of Orchid Corp’s CEO: Simon Rowanopoulos.

Muted, fluorescent lights were spaced far apart on the hallway ceilings. Some of them flickered on and off, and others had completely gone out. Old, locked doors lined the metallic walls. The 45th floor was never visited by anyone other than Masina, and thus there was little need to keep it in tiptop shape.

After several minutes of twisting and turning through the seemingly endless hallways, Masina reached an elevator. It was then that a chill came over her. Instinctually she glanced over her shoulder, and thought that she could see the faint silhouette of a man, but then it was gone. She stared, motionless, at the dark, empty hallway before collecting herself and opening the elevator.
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Old March 26th, 2017 (3:02 PM).
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Bardothren Bardothren is offline
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Howdy there Bac, I thought I'd stop by and give your story a review.

I really loved the start you have here. You've done a great job painting the surface-world civilization as a grimy, industrialized waste with just a handful of details, and you've alluded to future conflict between surface and the underwater through the man's reaction to the letter and the fate of the Swanna. I'm thinking you're going to focus on the underwater society next... that or some resistance faction on the surface. Either way, I can't wait to see what you do next.
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