At this point, both sides had gone fully public with their hostility. Their mutual declarations were no longer diplomatic warnings, they were declarations of war.
Across the New Empire, debates raged in every corner of society: when, and how, would the New Empire launch its military invasion of Unova?
Some argued that it wasn't yet the right time for war.
Their reasoning was straightforward: Unova had almost certainly made strategic preparations the moment tensions escalated. With mythical Pokémon backing both factions, a swift and decisive victory was unlikely. Instead, the risk of a prolonged stalemate could lead to staggering resource losses.
From that view, it was wiser to wait, let Unova suffer under economic blockade, watch its industries collapse, wait until its national strength was thoroughly drained. Then, the New Empire could move in and seize it all at minimal cost.
Others held a far more aggressive stance.
They believed the New Empire should go all-in, launch a surprise blitz and crush Unova outright. If necessary, they were even willing to annihilate the entire region.
And then there were the moderates. They warned that a full-scale war would be a disaster for both sides. Better to maintain the current tension, use infiltration and ideological influence to quietly reshape Unovan society. Let New Empire values seep into their culture like rain into soil—subtle, silent, irreversible.
Beyond those main camps, there were countless other theories and speculations. War had gripped the public imagination like wildfire.
And yet, despite the grim topic, the national mood remained surprisingly lighthearted. Jokes and memes circulated widely, more akin to a holiday countdown than a prelude to bloodshed. It reminded Lucius of his previous life, when citizens of the Third Reich were already planning to drink beer in Paris on Christmas Eve before they'd even crossed the Rhine.
This confidence came from the sheer power gap. No one in the New Empire seriously believed Unova had a real chance. The only question was whether they'd hold out for a day, or a few more.
...
Kanto Region – Vermilion City.
Lt. Surge was grooming his Raichu's fur. He'd just turned away another challenger.
Since the New Empire's founding, nearly every Trainer and Pokémon had experienced a noticeable power boost.
Surge knew why. Everyone, humans and Pokémon alike, had been infected by the virus. And this virus enhanced their overall capabilities.
The Pokémon League had actually issued a warning at a conference not long ago, urging vigilance against the virus. But in less than half a year, most of the world had already fallen.
And now, the virus wasn't a threat, it was the new normal. The League had become the outlier.
But truth be told, Surge didn't think that was such a bad thing.
Even when the League sat at the top, the real power had always rested with the underground families and legacy clans, those ancient bloodlines that had embedded themselves into every layer of society.
They controlled industries, exploited the system, grew fat off the people, and even the League's upper ranks rotated through their ranks. Not even someone as iron-willed as Goodshow could shake off chains forged over a thousand years.
Even Surge's own group, the Syndicate, had existed for decades under the League's heel. But it had always survived in the shadows, feeding off society and quietly expanding its reach.
The League knew. It just couldn't stop them. Kill one, and another would rise.
But things were different now.
As both a Gym Leader and a Syndicate executive, Surge understood clearly: the New Empire had evolved from the Hive.
But unlike the Hive's chaotic beginnings, the Empire had consolidated power completely. It had outlawed all forms of Pokémon smuggling and replaced them with transparent, regulated, and professional breeding operations. Everything was above board now.
More importantly, the public mindset had changed. People no longer viewed smuggling as a necessary evil. It had become morally and socially unacceptable.
Because the Syndicate had been absorbed early by the Hive, it had a head start. Surge and his team had already restructured, from an illicit smuggling ring to a professional Pokémon breeding facility.
He finished brushing Raichu's fur. The Pokémon's dark golden coat crackled with stray sparks, its tail twitching like a live wire. It looked thoroughly relaxed.
Surge walked with Raichu to the pool behind the Gym. He slipped off his jacket, revealing a chiseled physique glistening under the sun.
What a perfect day.
Surge glanced up at the sky.
And saw a rainbow, bright and vast, stretching across the clear blue.
There hasn't even been any rain...
He barely had time to ponder it when an enormous silhouette soared overhead.
A magnificent creature beat its wings across the sky. Its crimson feathers shimmered with a seven-colored aura. Its golden tail trailed behind like a comet.
The Mythical Pokémon—Ho-Oh.
BWOOP—BWOOP—BWOOP!
The city's emergency sirens blared. Vermilion's defense grid had immediately detected the hostile presence.
And yet, despite the sudden alarm, the citizens didn't panic. Guided by pheromone signals, they calmly moved into defensive shelters and zones.
At the heart of Vermilion, a strange, flower-shaped weapon emerged from the ground.
This was one of Devon Corp's newly developed ∞ Energy weapons. Once activated, it packed enough force to injure even a Mythical Pokémon.
The device lit up, golden energy surged upward like a fountain, hurtling toward the sky.
It wasn't just brute force. The energy blast shifted midair, adjusting course like it had a mind of its own, and locked onto Ho-Oh.
Ho-Oh spread its wings wide and unleashed a white-hot flame, laced with divine fury and apocalyptic might.
The two attacks collided.
A deafening explosion rocked the heavens. The shockwave shattered every window in the city. Towers closer to the blast crumbled like sandcastles.
One strike. That's all it took to raze half a skyline.
Neither side had the advantage. Ho-Oh veered away, circled once, then flared its wings again, launching dozens of wind blades, each over thirty meters long.
They tore through the city like guillotines, slicing skyscrapers in half. Within seconds, Vermilion was a ruin, slashed open by deep, chaotic chasms.
The ∞ Energy weapon couldn't stop such a widespread attack. But that didn't mean it couldn't respond.
A second volley fired, not at the wind blades this time, but straight at Ho-Oh.
BOOM.
The golden blast hit its mark, sending Ho-Oh crashing into a high-rise and snapping the building in two.
But thanks to its radiant aura, the damage was minimal. The hit had only slowed it down.
Then the anomaly began.
The shattered tower, its broken beams and crumbling facade, moved.
The steel reinforcements writhing from the cracks twisted like serpents. The concrete oozed like molten mercury, slithering toward Ho-Oh.
It wasn't just that one tower.
All around, the buildings were coming alive. These once-rigid monoliths melted into massive, sludge-gray monsters, hulking, shambling shapes like urban Muk, each lurching forward with grasping limbs.
They moved fast, too fast. In the blink of an eye, nearly half of Ho-Oh's radiant form was buried under writhing grey matter, even the gaps between its feathers filled with creeping sludge.
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