The Ghost and the Lonely Gentleman


I'm back for you.

Oh, don't look so surprised. We had a deal, remember? That day, when I first met you. We swore an oath to each other. Brothers in blood and brothers in life, brothers in murder and brothers in death. You said that to me, word for word. I came to you, knowing that you would be the perfect one. After all, why wouldn't you be? You were young. Naïve. Clueless to this little world outside the even smaller town that you called your home. You knew nothing about me.

And that was how I should have kept it.

Remember how glorious it once was? Moving from trainer to trainer, town to town, obliterating their Pokemon and their lives, watching as they fell to their knees before us and pleaded for salvation. We were the orchestrators of their fate; the conductors of their final resting. And just when they thought they were safe—just when they thought mercy was theirs—we served them justice on silver platters. We started with bug catchers, youngsters, and slowly made our way to Gym Leaders and the Elite Four. And then you were the champion—that was my doing, you know. The look of pain and pleading on your rival's face as he died, forever etched in agonizing rigor mortis—that was a masterpiece. That was well worth the trouble.

You were ignorant. You thought this was how Pokemon battling was supposed to be—ridden with death and destruction, and that loss meant succumbing to your own victims' fates. That was why you were so desperate not to fall. I promised you that you would succeed.

And you did, didn't you? You became Champion. The greatest trainer in all of Kanto. All because of me. Not you, me. You had nothing to do with it.

You were my puppet.

Now everyone has been left behind to rot in their graves and soak in pools of rage and disdain, and you are alone in this great big world that you conquered. They—they who cared about your victories and your strengths—they are all dead now. You have nobody. You are in solitude, starving away, wasting into oblivion and into a void of my darkness.

What if I told you it was all your fault? Would you believe me? Of course you would. It has been sixty years. It has been far too long. After all, you believed me before. You have not lost your faith in me, have you? I am still your starter—still your comrade. I am still your best friend.

Come with me now. You have failed. There is nothing left for you. Do not Struggle. You are old now. You might have had a hand against me in your youth, but you do not anymore. I am forever the strongest Pokemon in existence—you have never had a chance.

Let's walk together again, like in days past. Let's laugh at dark, empty, personal jokes that make sense to only us. Let's stand, hand in hand, and watch them die together, smiling. Let's have them never suspect us.

Come with me now. It's too late. You cannot right your wrongs. And yes, they are all your wrongs. Believe me. You believed me before, so why shouldn't you now? Have I ever lied to you?


We are brothers.

Brothers in blood.

And brothers in death./i