The Evil One

The light from the torches flickered through the dark cave, casting eerie shadows on the walls. As the team ventured deeper into the tomb, they came to a sudden halt at the end of the passage.

What they saw sent a chill down their spines. Desecrated graves. Most were filled with skeletal remains—

Wait. Suddenly, they remembered what the old man had said.

"This… this is…?" one of them stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Empty. A few graves lay open and empty

The young man who had previously clashed with the old man assessed the situation. His mind raced as he recalled the old man's warning, and a foreboding sense of unease washed over him.

Fear was natural. Even for archaeologists who had encountered their fair share of unsettling discoveries, this was different. This was wrong. This was wrong.

"This place is dangerous. We need to leave. Now," on in the back warned, his voice sharp and urgent.

But before anyone could move—

CRACK!

A sharp snap tore through the silence. The unmistakable sound of a whip slicing through the air.

"Hey… did you hear that?"

Everyone froze. Slowly, they turned their heads toward the source of the sound, their breath caught in their throats.

A luxurious white mane materialized, and everyone swallowed a scream at the overwhelming terror it emitted.

'A Pokémon?'

That was the last thought running through their minds—right before they passed out, just like the old man.

Now, let's rewind a little.

Hisuian Zoroark was ready. It exhaled slowly, its chest rising and falling as its piercing eyes locked onto the enemy.

One, two—dozens—plus three towering figures lurking at the back. It licked its lips. The hatred burning in its eyes flickered like ghostly fire—more than just rage.

It was vengeance.

Then, it happened.

Looking at the humans before it, Hisuian Zoroark was dragged back into its past. The memories clawed at its mind, and with each one, the cold fire of its hatred burned fiercer.

Bitter Malice.

A sudden, invisible, dreadful aura erupted from Hisuian Zoroark's body.

The humans felt their breath hitch, their bodies locking in place. An unnatural frost clung to their skin—not physical, but something deeper, something that gnawed at their very souls.

The wind howled, and for a split second, everything froze. A suffocating pressure spread like a tidal wave, crashing into the enemy ranks—too cold, too bone-chilling, too evil.

Eyes rolled back. Knees buckled. Bodies dropped one after another like puppets with their strings cut. The Pokéballs they had been holding slipped from limp fingers, clattering to the ground as their owners collapsed—unconscious before they even realized what had happened.

"ROOOAARRRRR!!!"

Onix, sensing the sudden drop in temperature, felt its body grow numb in an instant. Alarmed, it saw its trainer collapse and let out an earth-shaking roar. Its massive body reared up, fury burning in its glowing red eyes.

Rhyhorn wasted no time. From the start, its eyes were already locked onto the unknown figure. With a snort, it dug its hooves into the dirt and charged, its armored body like a living battering ram.

Meanwhile, Graveler grabbed a jagged boulder, veins of strength pulsing through its arms, before hurling it straight at Zoroark.

It was chaos. With their trainer giving no commands, the Pokémon could only attack by instinct. The previous attack had made them extremely uncomfortable, as if something had drained their strength, leaving them with no choice but to retaliate.

The Hisuian Zoroark let out a ghostly hiss, its crimson mane bristling. A swirling mist of deathly energy cloaked its body, the twisted aura shielding it from the worst of their attacks.

Then, it struck. BANG!

With a flicker of movement, Zoroark vanished.

The thrown boulder smashed into the dirt where it once stood, shattering into pieces. Rhyhorn's charge continued—but it hit nothing but air. Onix twisted its massive body, searching for its enemy.

Then—SLASH!

A shadow streaked past Graveler, which was exposed and alone, and in an instant, deep claw marks were carved into its rocky hide. Graveler let out a guttural growl, stumbling back as spectral flames flickered from the wounds.

Hisuian Zoroark reappeared a few feet away, licking its claws. But there was no time to rest. There were still many humans nearby. There was no point in wasting energy here.

A chilling laugh echoed across the battlefield, its ghostly mane billowing like wisps of smoke in the cold air.

Then, with a final flick of its tail, it turned away—vanishing into the mist, as if it had never been there at all.

Allen shivered. Suddenly, the air felt ice-cold.

BANG!

He flinched at the sudden noise, instinctively turning around. Then, he looked toward Absol.

"You heard that too, right, Absol? Is this what you meant?"

Beside him, Absol stood grim and motionless. It didn't need to resort to charades to warn him—disaster was coming. It could see it, clear as day.

Earlier, he had been carefully observing the Pokémon Rangers and their cronies, trying to find something. But before he could process anything further, Absol yanked him away from his hiding spot. Its sharp claws pressed against his arm—a clear message: Do not stay here.

He didn't question it. He followed.

Gripping onto Absol's back, he moved swiftly alongside it. Despite its size, Absol's movements were impossibly smooth—fluid and silent, like a phantom in the night. Even as its paws pressed against loose gravel, not a single sound was made.

Soon, they arrived in what looked like a chamber. A dim light illuminated the center, casting eerie shadows along the walls. The atmosphere was thick, unsettling. A chill ran down Allen's spine.

"Easy, easy… This is the Pokémon world. There's no Kayako Saeki here. At worst, maybe a Drifloon," he muttered, trying to reassure himself.

Absol moved ahead, its sharp eyes scanning every inch of the chamber before suddenly stopping. Its body tensed. Allen followed its gaze—and that's when he saw it.

"Hey! There's someone unconscious!" he exclaimed.

The old man lay sprawled on the frozen ground, his body unnervingly still. A thin layer of ice coated his skin.

"An Ice-type Pokémon?" Allen's brow furrowed. 'Froslass? That would be a bit dangerous then,' he thought instantly. 

He knelt down, pressing a finger under the man's nose. A faint warmth. Breath.

"He's still alive," Allen muttered, exhaling in relief.

Absol stepped forward, raising a paw to nudge the man awake, but Allen quickly grabbed its leg. "Wait!"

Celestic Town was always cold, and its people knew how to dress for it. Allen unzipped his jacket, peeled off a layer of clothing, then slipped his jacket back on. Using the spare cloth, he wrapped it around his face, leaving only his eyes visible—like a ninja.

"This way, no one will recognize me later," he murmured.

Moving carefully, he tiptoed toward the old man. With precise fingers, he pried the Pokéball from the man's grip and tucked it safely away. Spotting a bag nearby, he quickly secured that too.

Digging through the bag, he found a length of rope. Without hesitation, he tied the man's hands and feet, ensuring the knots were firm.

"Alright," he muttered, standing up and dusting off his hands. A smirk played on his lips.

"Now, let's wake him up."

Celestic Town was in chaos. The news spread like wildfire—Allen was missing!

Kidnapped by Absol.

Then, as if struck by a shared memory, they all recalled a previous incident. There was only one thing to do.

They hurriedly called for Grandma Wilma—And, of course, they made sure to bring Cynthia along.

Cynthia was the first to arrive, cradling her Pokémon egg in her arms, eyes sparkling with excitement. She was completely unaware of the panic gripping the town.

"Absol's horn is super cool!" she said, her voice full of wonder. "Allen told me it can feel tiny little changes in the ground, the water, and even the air! That's how it knows when something bad is gonna happen!"

She eagerly turned to her friend, Caitlin. "Did you know that, Caitlin? Absol can—"

Before Caitlin could respond, Cynthia had already launched into an excited retelling of everything that had happened when she, Allen, and Grandma Wilma were trapped in the cave.

The fact that Allen had been "kidnapped" by an Absol didn't scare her at all. If anything, she regretted not being able to join Allen and Absol on their adventure.

The adults exchanged knowing glances before turning to the professors for answers.

Professor Oak stroked his chin thoughtfully, his expression serious. "There are indeed records of Absol appearing throughout history. They always seem to show up before natural disasters—earthquakes, floods, storms. Because of this, people have long considered them to be bad omens. However..."

The room went silent, everyone taken aback by the weight of Oak's words. Seeing the famous professor speak so seriously caused their doubts to waver.

"Professor Oak, is it true that Absol only wants to give warnings?" one of them asked.

"I think it's best to ask someone who's experienced it firsthand," Oak replied, turning toward Professor Rowan.

The other party's expression grew serious, as though he were lost in thought, recalling something from his past.