04-20-2015, 10:23 AM
Chapter 5: Evolution
It was like another bolt of lightning had struck the Tiny Turtle, but for one reason or another, the energy now coursing within him felt increasingly comfortable. It was as if he had been bathed in some sort of raw power, and Squirtle loved every single second in which the bizarre sensation remained unending. The audience that had been listening to the Pokémon’s dissertation seemed enraptured by the events unfolding before them, and that became evident by the wave of silence that quickly befell the individuals crowded into the alley.
“The power…” Squirtle murmured, lifting up his right hand so that he could look at his convulsing digits. A few feet away, Pikachu poked his head out from behind the spotlight and quickly his expression became synonymous with that of the entire crowd. Near the back of the swarm of pocket monsters, Kadabra watched on with jubilation and awe. After all, the Psi Pokémon had felt the raw, unbridled energy once before in his meager existence. He knew the exact degree of delight in which his Chieftain was basking.
Throwing his hands toward the full moon above, Squirtle’s eyes widened as his pupils dilated. The amphibious revolutionary parted his trembling maw as a beam of light forced its way up from the confines of his body and exploded into the nigh sky—scintillating excessively. Before the amalgamation of Pokémon could shield their eyes, the immense light seeped out from the body of their leader and blanketed his form in its luminosity.
A lone, empowered howl eclipsed the melodic sound that the light made, but just as it had escaped, the howl descended the octaves until it became a petrifying snarl. As the central beam of photons faded away, it left behind a light-enveloped Squirtle who seemed to have almost doubled in size. As his followers watched on with fanatical anticipation, the white form of the Tiny Turtle began to mutate and transform into something new and increasingly awesome.
The light dispersed in an explosion of oversized photons, and Squirtle was left behind in the dazzling array to pant and sweat excessively. Unfortunately for the Water Pokémon, he was not quite done with the task at hand, and with a simple convulsion, the final moments of the strange occurrence began to unfold. Like a cascading wave, the turtle’s skin tone darkened to a deep, indigo-blue—starting at the tip of his head and terminating at his toes.
Two dark dots accented his cheekbones and a pair of extra-large canines slid out from his upper jaw and down over his lower lip. The small, almost raccoon-like tail that Squirtle sported suddenly swelled in proportion to coincide with the transmogrification that the reptile was undergoing. A moment later, the caudal appendage became consumed in a coat of white fur as it reached its final, outrageous size and subsequently fell to the earth.
Just as the tail was finished morphing, two ears jutted painlessly from the sides of the turtle’s cranium—covered in fur identical to that of the Pokémon’s new tail. As a final means to complement the transformation—the new creature’s fingers were each granted a gruesome, hooked nail. With one final, post-orgasmic sigh, the being that was once Squirtle relaxed his shoulders and flexed his new digits.
“Comrades,” he started, with a voice much deeper and chilling then his previous incarnation. “As if this is not proof enough, my words shall not go unfulfilled. Now follow me to the location with which I have founded a base of operations. Once we arrive there, you will have all the food you could ever want or need, and I will detail our first order of business in the crusade against mankind!” Another rampant applause ripped through the alleyway as the evolved Pokémon Chieftain turned around and began his march toward his headquarters.
“Welcome to the realm of Stage One, Squirtle,” Kadabra spoke after teleporting in next to his metamorphosed leader.
“Wartortle,” the reptile spoke with a malevolent grin. “The time is ours, Kadabra, and soon we shall move to free our enslaved brethren. Once they are free, we will move to bigger and grander aspirations.”
“Your will is mine to fulfill, Chieftain,” Kadabra said with a bow.
***
Wartortle smiled as he marched down the line of crates—his hands crossed behind the small of his back. The subjects he had gathered had amassed within the rickety old tower that had become the revolutionaries’ base of operations for the coming operation. The feast had begun several hours ago, and it was still underway as the Pokémon attempted to gorge their starved stomachs.
Plucking up a leg of chicken, the reptile’s evolved canines sliced cleanly through the rather soft meat. With a satisfied smirk, the turtle swallowed the mouthful of poultry and cast the bone into a nearby crate singled out for composting food ruled inconsumable. Wartortle completed his inspection of the provisions and then promptly meandered over to a nearby box that had been overturned to serve as a crude table. Seated on the ground around the makeshift piece of furniture were Kadabra, Pikachu, Jigglypuff, and Oddish.
“How are things, comrades?” Wartortle asked with a warm smile as he rested a hand on the broad shoulder of his psychic ally. All of the Pokémon seated waved a hand affectionately at their leader…save Oddish who lacked the proper appendages. The minute little guy simply waved a few of the broad leaves sprouting up from what was both his cranium and body. Wartortle returned the favor and took a position on the floor right next to the living shoot.
“This food is amazing,” Oddish said as he took a bite from what seemed to be some type of starchy vegetable. The mobile plant’s voice conveyed the impressionable youth and naivety he had been wrought by all his life. It brought a great sense of satisfaction to the turtle’s heart to know that he had saved the child before him from growing up into a world of terror and potential slavery.
“So tell us what lies on the horizon, Chieftain,” Pikachu asked after cooking a slab of beef with his innate powers of electricity bending. The mouse’s potential as an engineer had been shown before when he set up the lighting at the rally a few hours prior, and Wartortle knew that only greater things would come from the tiny, yellow mammal.
“Once we have taken the correct amount of time to nourish and outfit ourselves,” Wartortle spoke, pausing just long enough to scoop up and devour a small piece of celery. “We will mobilize our numbers and infiltrate the Pokémon Center a few blocks away from this location. Our goal in that operation will be to free our brethren enslaved in their machines and holding cells. We will murder the staff there and make certain that the city officials know we were the perpetrators.”
“Why are we going to make certain that the humans know it was us who perpetrated the attack?” Jigglypuff inquired. “Couldn’t we just do what the majority of these people do and blame their internal conflicts on foreigners or the people that wear the towels?” Wartortle turned his attention to the balloon-shaped Pokémon and waved a finger as a smile spread across his reptilian visage.
“While it could be simple to feign involvement and continue to hide in the shadows,” the Chieftain began, speaking with an informative yet sardonic tone. “We need to make our presence known if we ever want to leave an impact on society we must make ourselves known early. We need to strike fear into the hearts of the Homo sapiens! Mankind loves to bullshit and gossip all the damn time in case none of you have picked up on that morsel of information; therefore, we just to do something intense, and through all the news circuits, radio, and internet, we’ll be indirectly receiving a load of free advertisement for our cause.”
“And that way our brothers who are enslaved or impoverished in other parts of the city, country, and world will hear of us and rush to join our crusade?” Another Pokémon—a male Nidoran asked from behind his seated leader. Glancing over his shoulder, Wartortle smiled and nodded at the young creature. In such a short period of time, his new comrades had learned and mastered the course of action. Unlike man and his evolutionary inferior cerebral capabilities, Pokémon always displayed a vastly increased learning response.
“Who’s that?” Jigglypuff inquired, raising one of her stout appendages and pointing out a figure situated in the shadows of the room. Standing up hastily, Wartortle tightened his dexterous fingers into a pair of fists and tilted his head. The tall turtle was attempting to get a look at the entity standing near the back corner of the warehouse, but even with his acute sight, he was unable to scope out the interloper’s identity.
“I’ll investigate this,” the Turtle Pokémon decreed—strolling into the shadows that surrounded the lone figure. Wartortle let out a sigh as his furry tail tensed up and the normally blue shade of his knuckles faded into a color vaguely reminiscent of the sky. As the revolutionary advanced, the figure’s visage turned to face him, until finally the Pokémon chieftain could see that a woman of sorts had infiltrated his complex. “I should kill you on the spot for coming in here,” the turtle spat, his words saturated with animosity.
“There will come a time when you understand how truly special you are, Wartortle,” the female spoke—her words bizarrely benign. “You’re even greater then you imagine,” with a forward thrust of her hands, the woman gently knocked the turtle backwards in a brilliant flash of white. The force of the discharge was just enough to send Wartortle toppling onto his posterior, but before anyone was the wiser, the anarchist had sprung back to a standing position.
“Where’d you go?” He spoke silently. The mysterious woman, whose face he had been unable to see, had vanished back into the shadows from which she had emerged.
“Are you okay, Chieftain?” Kadabra asked, resting a hand on the turtle’s arm out of the same compassion reflected in the demeanor of the silent crowd.
“Yea, but the time has come,” Wartortle spoke, turning his attention to his seated allies. “The time is nigh, comrades! We attack!” The words set forth a roar of applause that rattled the aged warehouse to its very foundations. An assortment of hands went up into the air as the choir’s cheering swelled. Motioning for the door, the Chieftain led his tribesmen onto their first battle.
“Stop right there!” The words coincided with the sudden demolition of the structures front door and in aggravating influx of policemen. Armed with riot shields and shotguns, the first men of officers dropped down to a single knee and threw up their plastic barriers as the other half of their rank took standing positions behind them. Wartortle sighed as the city’s finest began to pump their weaponry. “Put your hands up and surrender yourselves now!” One of the officers ordered from behind the wall of translucent plastic and shotguns.
“How in the blue hell did you find out about my operation so quickly?” The anarchist amphibian said jovially “I didn’t think I left that much of a trail back on those barges, nor did I imagine you fat bastard would be able to peel yourselves away from your endless agenda of donuts and sitting on your asses long enough to confront my comrades and I.”
“We will not allow you to begin a spree of domestic terrorism, Wartortle,” the same man replied, lining the barrel of his shotgun up with the forehead of the dexterous insurrectionist. “Now you will either lie down, or we will be force to shoot all of you.” The order elicited a fit of giggles from the Pokémon chieftain. After taking a moment to clear his throat, Wartortle grinned at the policemen and pointed to two massive tanks that decorated the posterior wall of the abandoned warehouse.
“Each of those tanks contains close to about a thousand gallons of water a piece, gentlemen,” the turtle said cordially as a smile spread across his indigo visage. “Now in case you uneducated fucks weren’t already aware of it, I am a Wartortle. I would like to show you a neat little trick I know that goes a little bit something like…this!” With that final word, the Pokémon threw forth his clawed digits. A few yards behind him, the tanks ruptured as a torrent of water exploded forth.
Initially traveling upwards, the two massive deluges reached their apex before anyone was the wiser. They immediately split into several smaller projectiles and came hurdling back toward the ground like aqueous comets. Twisting and spiraling as they exploded forth—the concentrations of water glided over Wartortle and slammed into the two lines of policemen before any of them had a chance to discharge a single round. With viper-like accuracy, the miniature waterfalls struck the men—plucking them off the ground and hurdling them to the nearest hard surface.
“Fuckers,” Wartortle murmured as he drew his weapons. Before the Turtle Pokémon had a chance to slay the battered and broken policemen, they were mauled to death by a group of his comrades. The lynch mob ended when a single shot from one of the chieftain’s machineguns executed the last officer. “Let’s go,” Wartortle said abruptly. Nodding their heads, his assortment of thirty or so subjects lined up behind him and followed their leader as he made his way over the mass of mutilated corpses.
The trek was a slow and tedious one, with the Pokémon not wishing to interact with any more idiotic humans then they had to in one night. Nevertheless, after half an hour or so of spelunking through sewers and traversing a network of alleys, the cadre of revolutionaries arrived at the Pokémon Center they sought. From their current position, it was clearly apparent that they had arrived during a nightshift.
“Should we try another night, Chieftain?” Pikachu inquired. Wartortle wore a strangely calm look on his cyan countenance. The lanky turtle squatted down next to the Electric Pokémon and shook his head.
“If we pull off now we will only give the police force of this stupid city more time to prepare and strike us down. We need to raze this facility and liberate our imprisoned brethren. We will need their assistance if we want to be able to obliterate these fucks,” after finishing the debriefing, Wartortle stood back up and pointed to the roof of the two buildings across the lane from their target. “I want flyers and long-range units positioned at both of those locations,” the turtle turned to the small group he had just been speaking about. “Can I trust you to be my eyes and ears outside, Fearow and Pidgeotto?”
“Of course, Chieftain,” the duo of birds uttered in unison. “I take it we are to follow the plans we discussed at dinner?” They added after being joined by the smaller members of the bird division.
“Yes,” Wartortle replied with an affirmative nod. Glancing upward, he pointed one of his clawed digits toward one of the buildings he had mentioned earlier. “You and the Pidgey trio are to take up positions on that structure, Pidgeotto. Fearow, I want you to take the pair of Spearow to the other building. Both of you are to take at least one or two long-rangers with you in case we have a worst case scenario on our hands,” the group of birds acknowledged their orders and flew to the back of the group to recruit the Pokémon they required.
“What should I do, Chieftain?” Kadabra asked, stepping through the thinned crowd and dropping to a knee before his amphibious leader.
“I want you to go with the flyer groups,” Wartortle replied after mulling over the schematics for the attack in his cranium. “You are to message me in the event that either group spots some kind of potential aggressor.
“Your wish is mine to fulfill,” Kadabra said before teleporting to his allocated destination.
“Chieftain?” One of the smaller Pokémon inquired before Wartortle was able to issue the next order. “Who is that?” The comment triggered the Turtle Pokémon to divert his attention to the back of the alley in which he had assembled his forces. Tilting his head slightly, he noted that a giant, bulky figure could be seen leaning into a dumpster.
“I want the Sandshrews and Geodudes to return to the sewers and burrow up into the Pokémon Center and plant the Voltorbs there. After achieving that goal, remain silent and unseen until you receive further orders from me directly,” once Wartortle was confident that the correct party had been assembled, the turtle turned to the figure standing a few dozen feet down the alley. “The rest of you will stay here while I investigate our little interloper.”
Leaving behind the fifteen or so Pokémon that would comprise the bulk of the infiltrating forces, Wartortle crept down the dark alley with his two red eyes zeroed in on the figure shifting through the dumpster. As he drew closer, the amphibious revolutionary became increasingly apparent that the individual was a giant of some sort; however, the being’s actual appearance was veiled beneath not only a blanket of shadow but also a black cloak.
“Stranger,” Wartortle whispered, his fingers prepped to draw one of his weapons and fire the moment he detected any sneaky or aggressive movement from the stranger. Instead of the potentially malignant action he had anticipated, the figure reacted by pulling away from the container he had been siphoning through and staggering backwards in what seemed to be intimidation.
The sharp movement on his behalf caused the stranger’s hood to slide off the top of his rounded cranium—revealing a familiar face. The Turtle Pokémon retreated a few steps as he attempted to get a clear look at the giant’s face. Three crests projected from the gray flesh of the giant’s bald cranium. The flesh that surrounded the titan’s upper and lower jaw bore a color reminiscent of the epidermis of human.
Scars and cuts adorned the Pokémon’s visage and seemed to signify a life of torment and misery. From the sadness and fear apparent in the wanderer’s eyes, Wartortle could tell that he had lived a life of misery and torment. Despite the fear in his eyes, the species that the newcomer heralded from should have been considerably smaller. The Pokémon was twice his normal height and girth, but the terror in his eyes as he tried to back away from Wartortle was a complete and utter anomaly.
“Halt, Machamp,” Wartortle declared, reaching out toward the newcomer in an effort to prevent him from fleeing the scene. The muscular beast finally stop shuffling backwards out of what seemed to be fear more so then an general interest in hearing what the scary, anthropomorphic turtle had to say. “I mean you no harm. I can tell from your outward appearance that we share the same enemy, and because of that, I am willing to enlist you to my cause.
“If you agree to assist my comrades and me during our endeavor, I will guard you from the species that did this to you. I will ensure that you will not have to spend the rest of your days scrounging through dumpsters and living in the filthy shadows of this accursed city. What do you say, my titanic comrade?” Time lingered for a little bit as Wartortle contemplated whether or not the obviously sheepish Pokémon was going to side with him.
When it seemed as if the Superpower Pokémon was going to remain silent and virtually catatonic, the Turtle Pokémon merely nodded his head and walked back to his comrades. Without commenting on the situation that had just unfolded, he nodded to Pikachu and pointed at the Pokémon Center. The battalion of sixteen soldiers made their way across the street in a flash and bundled together in an alley directly adjacent to their target.
“As soon as we get into the building I will parley with the staff inside,” the chieftain stated, leaning out from the alley and glancing at the structure. “Do not attack until I instruct you to do so. Does everyone understand?” Once he was ensured that everyone understood the course of action, Wartortle rounded the corner and opened up the glass door to the Pokémon Center. Once he was inside the facility, he quickly garnered the attention of the pink-haired woman meandered behind the counter.
“Why hello there,” she said, her eyes closed and her face comprised of a beaming smile. “I’m Nurse Joy, and how may I help you today poor Pokémon?”
“I come here to free my brethren who are enslaved in your machines and holding cells, and if you do not comply, I will murder you all,” Wartortle decreed, the fact that he spoke in English with such hatred completely reversing the woman’s attitude. Nurse Joy opened her eyes and stared at the six-foot turtle with a look of confused horror. “Yes, I can see the realization in your eyes, Joy, so what will it be? Will you and these cretins free my brethren or will your lives reach their terminus here and now?”
At that moment, Wartortle sensed something he knew all too well. Pivoting around to face the lobby area, the Turtle Pokémon batted away the red-white sphere that had been chucked at him with relative ease. The Poké Ball landed on the ground and rolled a few feet away. The foolish trainer that had thrown it backed away from the seething turtle and tried to flee toward the door. Before he managed to take two steps his chest was blown apart by a forty-millimeter grenade round.
“Oh my god!” Nurse Joy shrieked, but just as Wartortle was about to turn around and shut her fucking trap, the giant window that comprised the majority of the Pokémon Center’s street-side wall imploded. There was a black mass that soared through the shower of glass particles, and then the turtle realized that the Pokémon he had seen earlier had made a visit. Landing on the same side of the counter as the Pokémon chieftain, the muscle-bound monstrosity walked straight through the steel and wood and snapped poor Miss Joy’s body in half with his ham-sized fists.
“Impressive,” Wartortle decreed at the sight of his comrade throwing the bloodied, broken frame of the nurse through a nearby wall. Lower his arms, Machamp threw off cloak to reveal his lower set of arms. “Now slay them, my comrades!” With that order, his team descended upon the frightened trainers.
It was like another bolt of lightning had struck the Tiny Turtle, but for one reason or another, the energy now coursing within him felt increasingly comfortable. It was as if he had been bathed in some sort of raw power, and Squirtle loved every single second in which the bizarre sensation remained unending. The audience that had been listening to the Pokémon’s dissertation seemed enraptured by the events unfolding before them, and that became evident by the wave of silence that quickly befell the individuals crowded into the alley.
“The power…” Squirtle murmured, lifting up his right hand so that he could look at his convulsing digits. A few feet away, Pikachu poked his head out from behind the spotlight and quickly his expression became synonymous with that of the entire crowd. Near the back of the swarm of pocket monsters, Kadabra watched on with jubilation and awe. After all, the Psi Pokémon had felt the raw, unbridled energy once before in his meager existence. He knew the exact degree of delight in which his Chieftain was basking.
Throwing his hands toward the full moon above, Squirtle’s eyes widened as his pupils dilated. The amphibious revolutionary parted his trembling maw as a beam of light forced its way up from the confines of his body and exploded into the nigh sky—scintillating excessively. Before the amalgamation of Pokémon could shield their eyes, the immense light seeped out from the body of their leader and blanketed his form in its luminosity.
A lone, empowered howl eclipsed the melodic sound that the light made, but just as it had escaped, the howl descended the octaves until it became a petrifying snarl. As the central beam of photons faded away, it left behind a light-enveloped Squirtle who seemed to have almost doubled in size. As his followers watched on with fanatical anticipation, the white form of the Tiny Turtle began to mutate and transform into something new and increasingly awesome.
The light dispersed in an explosion of oversized photons, and Squirtle was left behind in the dazzling array to pant and sweat excessively. Unfortunately for the Water Pokémon, he was not quite done with the task at hand, and with a simple convulsion, the final moments of the strange occurrence began to unfold. Like a cascading wave, the turtle’s skin tone darkened to a deep, indigo-blue—starting at the tip of his head and terminating at his toes.
Two dark dots accented his cheekbones and a pair of extra-large canines slid out from his upper jaw and down over his lower lip. The small, almost raccoon-like tail that Squirtle sported suddenly swelled in proportion to coincide with the transmogrification that the reptile was undergoing. A moment later, the caudal appendage became consumed in a coat of white fur as it reached its final, outrageous size and subsequently fell to the earth.
Just as the tail was finished morphing, two ears jutted painlessly from the sides of the turtle’s cranium—covered in fur identical to that of the Pokémon’s new tail. As a final means to complement the transformation—the new creature’s fingers were each granted a gruesome, hooked nail. With one final, post-orgasmic sigh, the being that was once Squirtle relaxed his shoulders and flexed his new digits.
“Comrades,” he started, with a voice much deeper and chilling then his previous incarnation. “As if this is not proof enough, my words shall not go unfulfilled. Now follow me to the location with which I have founded a base of operations. Once we arrive there, you will have all the food you could ever want or need, and I will detail our first order of business in the crusade against mankind!” Another rampant applause ripped through the alleyway as the evolved Pokémon Chieftain turned around and began his march toward his headquarters.
“Welcome to the realm of Stage One, Squirtle,” Kadabra spoke after teleporting in next to his metamorphosed leader.
“Wartortle,” the reptile spoke with a malevolent grin. “The time is ours, Kadabra, and soon we shall move to free our enslaved brethren. Once they are free, we will move to bigger and grander aspirations.”
“Your will is mine to fulfill, Chieftain,” Kadabra said with a bow.
***
Wartortle smiled as he marched down the line of crates—his hands crossed behind the small of his back. The subjects he had gathered had amassed within the rickety old tower that had become the revolutionaries’ base of operations for the coming operation. The feast had begun several hours ago, and it was still underway as the Pokémon attempted to gorge their starved stomachs.
Plucking up a leg of chicken, the reptile’s evolved canines sliced cleanly through the rather soft meat. With a satisfied smirk, the turtle swallowed the mouthful of poultry and cast the bone into a nearby crate singled out for composting food ruled inconsumable. Wartortle completed his inspection of the provisions and then promptly meandered over to a nearby box that had been overturned to serve as a crude table. Seated on the ground around the makeshift piece of furniture were Kadabra, Pikachu, Jigglypuff, and Oddish.
“How are things, comrades?” Wartortle asked with a warm smile as he rested a hand on the broad shoulder of his psychic ally. All of the Pokémon seated waved a hand affectionately at their leader…save Oddish who lacked the proper appendages. The minute little guy simply waved a few of the broad leaves sprouting up from what was both his cranium and body. Wartortle returned the favor and took a position on the floor right next to the living shoot.
“This food is amazing,” Oddish said as he took a bite from what seemed to be some type of starchy vegetable. The mobile plant’s voice conveyed the impressionable youth and naivety he had been wrought by all his life. It brought a great sense of satisfaction to the turtle’s heart to know that he had saved the child before him from growing up into a world of terror and potential slavery.
“So tell us what lies on the horizon, Chieftain,” Pikachu asked after cooking a slab of beef with his innate powers of electricity bending. The mouse’s potential as an engineer had been shown before when he set up the lighting at the rally a few hours prior, and Wartortle knew that only greater things would come from the tiny, yellow mammal.
“Once we have taken the correct amount of time to nourish and outfit ourselves,” Wartortle spoke, pausing just long enough to scoop up and devour a small piece of celery. “We will mobilize our numbers and infiltrate the Pokémon Center a few blocks away from this location. Our goal in that operation will be to free our brethren enslaved in their machines and holding cells. We will murder the staff there and make certain that the city officials know we were the perpetrators.”
“Why are we going to make certain that the humans know it was us who perpetrated the attack?” Jigglypuff inquired. “Couldn’t we just do what the majority of these people do and blame their internal conflicts on foreigners or the people that wear the towels?” Wartortle turned his attention to the balloon-shaped Pokémon and waved a finger as a smile spread across his reptilian visage.
“While it could be simple to feign involvement and continue to hide in the shadows,” the Chieftain began, speaking with an informative yet sardonic tone. “We need to make our presence known if we ever want to leave an impact on society we must make ourselves known early. We need to strike fear into the hearts of the Homo sapiens! Mankind loves to bullshit and gossip all the damn time in case none of you have picked up on that morsel of information; therefore, we just to do something intense, and through all the news circuits, radio, and internet, we’ll be indirectly receiving a load of free advertisement for our cause.”
“And that way our brothers who are enslaved or impoverished in other parts of the city, country, and world will hear of us and rush to join our crusade?” Another Pokémon—a male Nidoran asked from behind his seated leader. Glancing over his shoulder, Wartortle smiled and nodded at the young creature. In such a short period of time, his new comrades had learned and mastered the course of action. Unlike man and his evolutionary inferior cerebral capabilities, Pokémon always displayed a vastly increased learning response.
“Who’s that?” Jigglypuff inquired, raising one of her stout appendages and pointing out a figure situated in the shadows of the room. Standing up hastily, Wartortle tightened his dexterous fingers into a pair of fists and tilted his head. The tall turtle was attempting to get a look at the entity standing near the back corner of the warehouse, but even with his acute sight, he was unable to scope out the interloper’s identity.
“I’ll investigate this,” the Turtle Pokémon decreed—strolling into the shadows that surrounded the lone figure. Wartortle let out a sigh as his furry tail tensed up and the normally blue shade of his knuckles faded into a color vaguely reminiscent of the sky. As the revolutionary advanced, the figure’s visage turned to face him, until finally the Pokémon chieftain could see that a woman of sorts had infiltrated his complex. “I should kill you on the spot for coming in here,” the turtle spat, his words saturated with animosity.
“There will come a time when you understand how truly special you are, Wartortle,” the female spoke—her words bizarrely benign. “You’re even greater then you imagine,” with a forward thrust of her hands, the woman gently knocked the turtle backwards in a brilliant flash of white. The force of the discharge was just enough to send Wartortle toppling onto his posterior, but before anyone was the wiser, the anarchist had sprung back to a standing position.
“Where’d you go?” He spoke silently. The mysterious woman, whose face he had been unable to see, had vanished back into the shadows from which she had emerged.
“Are you okay, Chieftain?” Kadabra asked, resting a hand on the turtle’s arm out of the same compassion reflected in the demeanor of the silent crowd.
“Yea, but the time has come,” Wartortle spoke, turning his attention to his seated allies. “The time is nigh, comrades! We attack!” The words set forth a roar of applause that rattled the aged warehouse to its very foundations. An assortment of hands went up into the air as the choir’s cheering swelled. Motioning for the door, the Chieftain led his tribesmen onto their first battle.
“Stop right there!” The words coincided with the sudden demolition of the structures front door and in aggravating influx of policemen. Armed with riot shields and shotguns, the first men of officers dropped down to a single knee and threw up their plastic barriers as the other half of their rank took standing positions behind them. Wartortle sighed as the city’s finest began to pump their weaponry. “Put your hands up and surrender yourselves now!” One of the officers ordered from behind the wall of translucent plastic and shotguns.
“How in the blue hell did you find out about my operation so quickly?” The anarchist amphibian said jovially “I didn’t think I left that much of a trail back on those barges, nor did I imagine you fat bastard would be able to peel yourselves away from your endless agenda of donuts and sitting on your asses long enough to confront my comrades and I.”
“We will not allow you to begin a spree of domestic terrorism, Wartortle,” the same man replied, lining the barrel of his shotgun up with the forehead of the dexterous insurrectionist. “Now you will either lie down, or we will be force to shoot all of you.” The order elicited a fit of giggles from the Pokémon chieftain. After taking a moment to clear his throat, Wartortle grinned at the policemen and pointed to two massive tanks that decorated the posterior wall of the abandoned warehouse.
“Each of those tanks contains close to about a thousand gallons of water a piece, gentlemen,” the turtle said cordially as a smile spread across his indigo visage. “Now in case you uneducated fucks weren’t already aware of it, I am a Wartortle. I would like to show you a neat little trick I know that goes a little bit something like…this!” With that final word, the Pokémon threw forth his clawed digits. A few yards behind him, the tanks ruptured as a torrent of water exploded forth.
Initially traveling upwards, the two massive deluges reached their apex before anyone was the wiser. They immediately split into several smaller projectiles and came hurdling back toward the ground like aqueous comets. Twisting and spiraling as they exploded forth—the concentrations of water glided over Wartortle and slammed into the two lines of policemen before any of them had a chance to discharge a single round. With viper-like accuracy, the miniature waterfalls struck the men—plucking them off the ground and hurdling them to the nearest hard surface.
“Fuckers,” Wartortle murmured as he drew his weapons. Before the Turtle Pokémon had a chance to slay the battered and broken policemen, they were mauled to death by a group of his comrades. The lynch mob ended when a single shot from one of the chieftain’s machineguns executed the last officer. “Let’s go,” Wartortle said abruptly. Nodding their heads, his assortment of thirty or so subjects lined up behind him and followed their leader as he made his way over the mass of mutilated corpses.
The trek was a slow and tedious one, with the Pokémon not wishing to interact with any more idiotic humans then they had to in one night. Nevertheless, after half an hour or so of spelunking through sewers and traversing a network of alleys, the cadre of revolutionaries arrived at the Pokémon Center they sought. From their current position, it was clearly apparent that they had arrived during a nightshift.
“Should we try another night, Chieftain?” Pikachu inquired. Wartortle wore a strangely calm look on his cyan countenance. The lanky turtle squatted down next to the Electric Pokémon and shook his head.
“If we pull off now we will only give the police force of this stupid city more time to prepare and strike us down. We need to raze this facility and liberate our imprisoned brethren. We will need their assistance if we want to be able to obliterate these fucks,” after finishing the debriefing, Wartortle stood back up and pointed to the roof of the two buildings across the lane from their target. “I want flyers and long-range units positioned at both of those locations,” the turtle turned to the small group he had just been speaking about. “Can I trust you to be my eyes and ears outside, Fearow and Pidgeotto?”
“Of course, Chieftain,” the duo of birds uttered in unison. “I take it we are to follow the plans we discussed at dinner?” They added after being joined by the smaller members of the bird division.
“Yes,” Wartortle replied with an affirmative nod. Glancing upward, he pointed one of his clawed digits toward one of the buildings he had mentioned earlier. “You and the Pidgey trio are to take up positions on that structure, Pidgeotto. Fearow, I want you to take the pair of Spearow to the other building. Both of you are to take at least one or two long-rangers with you in case we have a worst case scenario on our hands,” the group of birds acknowledged their orders and flew to the back of the group to recruit the Pokémon they required.
“What should I do, Chieftain?” Kadabra asked, stepping through the thinned crowd and dropping to a knee before his amphibious leader.
“I want you to go with the flyer groups,” Wartortle replied after mulling over the schematics for the attack in his cranium. “You are to message me in the event that either group spots some kind of potential aggressor.
“Your wish is mine to fulfill,” Kadabra said before teleporting to his allocated destination.
“Chieftain?” One of the smaller Pokémon inquired before Wartortle was able to issue the next order. “Who is that?” The comment triggered the Turtle Pokémon to divert his attention to the back of the alley in which he had assembled his forces. Tilting his head slightly, he noted that a giant, bulky figure could be seen leaning into a dumpster.
“I want the Sandshrews and Geodudes to return to the sewers and burrow up into the Pokémon Center and plant the Voltorbs there. After achieving that goal, remain silent and unseen until you receive further orders from me directly,” once Wartortle was confident that the correct party had been assembled, the turtle turned to the figure standing a few dozen feet down the alley. “The rest of you will stay here while I investigate our little interloper.”
Leaving behind the fifteen or so Pokémon that would comprise the bulk of the infiltrating forces, Wartortle crept down the dark alley with his two red eyes zeroed in on the figure shifting through the dumpster. As he drew closer, the amphibious revolutionary became increasingly apparent that the individual was a giant of some sort; however, the being’s actual appearance was veiled beneath not only a blanket of shadow but also a black cloak.
“Stranger,” Wartortle whispered, his fingers prepped to draw one of his weapons and fire the moment he detected any sneaky or aggressive movement from the stranger. Instead of the potentially malignant action he had anticipated, the figure reacted by pulling away from the container he had been siphoning through and staggering backwards in what seemed to be intimidation.
The sharp movement on his behalf caused the stranger’s hood to slide off the top of his rounded cranium—revealing a familiar face. The Turtle Pokémon retreated a few steps as he attempted to get a clear look at the giant’s face. Three crests projected from the gray flesh of the giant’s bald cranium. The flesh that surrounded the titan’s upper and lower jaw bore a color reminiscent of the epidermis of human.
Scars and cuts adorned the Pokémon’s visage and seemed to signify a life of torment and misery. From the sadness and fear apparent in the wanderer’s eyes, Wartortle could tell that he had lived a life of misery and torment. Despite the fear in his eyes, the species that the newcomer heralded from should have been considerably smaller. The Pokémon was twice his normal height and girth, but the terror in his eyes as he tried to back away from Wartortle was a complete and utter anomaly.
“Halt, Machamp,” Wartortle declared, reaching out toward the newcomer in an effort to prevent him from fleeing the scene. The muscular beast finally stop shuffling backwards out of what seemed to be fear more so then an general interest in hearing what the scary, anthropomorphic turtle had to say. “I mean you no harm. I can tell from your outward appearance that we share the same enemy, and because of that, I am willing to enlist you to my cause.
“If you agree to assist my comrades and me during our endeavor, I will guard you from the species that did this to you. I will ensure that you will not have to spend the rest of your days scrounging through dumpsters and living in the filthy shadows of this accursed city. What do you say, my titanic comrade?” Time lingered for a little bit as Wartortle contemplated whether or not the obviously sheepish Pokémon was going to side with him.
When it seemed as if the Superpower Pokémon was going to remain silent and virtually catatonic, the Turtle Pokémon merely nodded his head and walked back to his comrades. Without commenting on the situation that had just unfolded, he nodded to Pikachu and pointed at the Pokémon Center. The battalion of sixteen soldiers made their way across the street in a flash and bundled together in an alley directly adjacent to their target.
“As soon as we get into the building I will parley with the staff inside,” the chieftain stated, leaning out from the alley and glancing at the structure. “Do not attack until I instruct you to do so. Does everyone understand?” Once he was ensured that everyone understood the course of action, Wartortle rounded the corner and opened up the glass door to the Pokémon Center. Once he was inside the facility, he quickly garnered the attention of the pink-haired woman meandered behind the counter.
“Why hello there,” she said, her eyes closed and her face comprised of a beaming smile. “I’m Nurse Joy, and how may I help you today poor Pokémon?”
“I come here to free my brethren who are enslaved in your machines and holding cells, and if you do not comply, I will murder you all,” Wartortle decreed, the fact that he spoke in English with such hatred completely reversing the woman’s attitude. Nurse Joy opened her eyes and stared at the six-foot turtle with a look of confused horror. “Yes, I can see the realization in your eyes, Joy, so what will it be? Will you and these cretins free my brethren or will your lives reach their terminus here and now?”
At that moment, Wartortle sensed something he knew all too well. Pivoting around to face the lobby area, the Turtle Pokémon batted away the red-white sphere that had been chucked at him with relative ease. The Poké Ball landed on the ground and rolled a few feet away. The foolish trainer that had thrown it backed away from the seething turtle and tried to flee toward the door. Before he managed to take two steps his chest was blown apart by a forty-millimeter grenade round.
“Oh my god!” Nurse Joy shrieked, but just as Wartortle was about to turn around and shut her fucking trap, the giant window that comprised the majority of the Pokémon Center’s street-side wall imploded. There was a black mass that soared through the shower of glass particles, and then the turtle realized that the Pokémon he had seen earlier had made a visit. Landing on the same side of the counter as the Pokémon chieftain, the muscle-bound monstrosity walked straight through the steel and wood and snapped poor Miss Joy’s body in half with his ham-sized fists.
“Impressive,” Wartortle decreed at the sight of his comrade throwing the bloodied, broken frame of the nurse through a nearby wall. Lower his arms, Machamp threw off cloak to reveal his lower set of arms. “Now slay them, my comrades!” With that order, his team descended upon the frightened trainers.