Dragons: Into the Maw of Hell

Eternal Berg, BSTF, Decembre 8th, 2009

Three Little Goldeen,

Washed their faces clean,

Looked in the mirror,

Filled with terror,

The eyes they used for seeing,

Belonged to a Seaking.

“Ah, I haven't heard that in years.”

“It's odd that it entered the cultural consciousness, no?”

“Why so?”

“Well, it's by an anonymous author.”

“So? Plenty of people prefer to forgo fame.”

“Yes, but that's the thing. Further decryption of this text reveals that it happens to be a lot older than most people think.”

“Oh really?”

“It's meant to go very differently.”



“Let me ask you a question.”

Sepia shouted out to the back, his voice echoing up and down the deep pit. He was panting, the long journey down had taken it's toll on him.

“What is it?” Max called back. The voice echoed just as much, and Vermil, climbing down just above them, was sure the building shook.

“Can you see it yet?”

“You mean Palkia?” Max's voice caused Roy to let out a shrill scream. Only Max and Sepia, with their proximity to the creature, could see it properly. Everyone else just saw movement, which Roy personally had thought was just a precarious piece of the ruined building.

“They must have been keeping it in the basement.” Sepia sighed and continued his descent. 

“It's a trap, then.” Max ignored the creature, keeping his eyes on his hands as he climbed down.

“It's a good trap. We had no choice.” Sepia laughed as the creature let out a roar. Vermil lost his grip and fell, hurtling down towards the ground. Towards the creature.

He screamed, and awoke in Terrut City.

“That's the first one, then.” Sepia laughed a little. “Palkia, the legendary dragon of Space. I guess it's been trained to send any intruders away.”

“So it's guarding something?” Max was intrigued. 

“Yep. Well, there's no point resisting it.” Sepia laughed and pushed away from the wall. He began to fall. “Ah, there we are. A spacial distortion. Looks like Fel City, too.”

Sepia disappeared from view, leaving Max to follow suit and leap. Krystal let out a gleeful giggle and flew down, disappearing just the same. Polaris, Hari, Roy, Fujitsu and Fuschia all gave each other concerned looks. Above them, many distortions appeared. Fuschia swore to herself as they began to move closer.


“Sir, one of the security stations has a red flag.” A man in black stood before Stephen Schwarz, sweating heavily. The elevators were disabled in these circumstances. He paused briefly to consider what he was about to say, and then spoke clearly. “Code Tangerine.”

“Ah.” Schwarz smiled and stood, using the opportunity to stand and gaze out of the window. He saw the Code Tangerine threat standing outside. He could not make out his expression, but he took a devilish glee in knowing that it was probably part of his carefully laid plans. “Any messages from Ivy?”


“Isn't she your commanding officer?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” The man produced a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Schwarz, who read it's contents with the same glee he had before.

“Aha... Perfect. Dismissed.” Stephen gave a discrete wave to the man, who promptly left the room. Schwarz picked up a remote on his desk and aimed it at the television. It sprang to life, revealing the face of Harold Rowan. It was the oldest he had seen for a while. Most of the company he kept was young. It was a personal choice. Most of the executives of the Rocket Organisation were youthful. Twenty year olds and thirty year olds. Harold Rowan was a middle aged man through and through. Not the oldest Rocket, but near enough. 

“Now, shall we continue?”

“Of course, Harold. What should the rhyme read as, then?”

“Three Of Our Masters,

Washed themselves with plaster,

Looked in the river,

Filled with terror,

The life they once were leading,

Was stolen by the new King.”

“Fascinating.” Schwarz sat in his chair. It was by far his favourite, and it allowed him to sink deep into it. Comfortable, but functional. “But, does it tell us how to reach Arceus? We have the DNA of half the deities – Perigro, Origin and Agrython. The lost ones, the ones that 'time forgot' were the easiest. It's bizzare.”

“I wasn't aware we had recovered the Amulet.”

“Yes, we did. Samuel Oak did it. Quite good.” Schwarz was pleased with Oak's progress. He had started out as a sociopath, he had become a helpful sociopath.

“And the others?”

“Origin's DNA came from it's body, naturally. It was found mummified in a cave in Towen. You found Perigro, if I recall correctly.”

Rowan stroked his beard a little, out of pride. “Yes. It was sealed up in Shamouti Island. It died, then was reborn shortly afterwards. A terrible fate. Our favourite Hound was clearly a deviant after our own hearts.”

Schwarz smirked a little. “But you let it escape.”

“An accident. It hasn't been seen since.”

“Good. Did you hear from Felina Ivy that it wasn't Mewtwo that the Richtog Vale warning was about?”

Rowan looked surprised. “Really? Then what was it prophesying?”

“A boy. He nearly killed Haria, too.”

“The Psychic, was it? You should really do something about those fools.”

“Why? They're harmless enough. Except for the one standing outside, of course. Oh, and we've found Regigigas. It's in Sinnoh. I'm going to send P to fetch it once he's recovered.”

“That just leaves Deoxys and Arceus. The final deities.”

“I'm just hoping we get a chance to isolate a Deoxys strain before A-Day. It would be rather pointless if we didn't.”

“The hound would be preferable for your greater plans, though.”

“The hound would be preferable for any plans, Rowan. That's the beauty of it. I've had Birch roaming around, looking for the Seats. The map they create is incomplete, though.”

“Oh that is pleasing.” Rowan grinned madly before turning off the screen. Schwarz simply smiled and opened his mail.

The End

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