Well, lets start with introductions. I'm the Agent of Chaos, suppose you can call me Agent for short, if any of you feel like reviewing. I currently am the less than proud author of one Fire Emblem Fic (on Hiatus until this story is complete) and a rather dull comedy based oneshot. I've been working on this chapter for a while now, I wrote it about a month or two ago, after getting permission from Cornova to write a story in his universe that had been bugging me for the last few weeks. I'm going to try to keep Author's Notes to a minimum, so lets drop a disclaimer here for the rest of the book.

I _ _, do not own the Pokémon universe or the Pokewars universe, these are owned by Gamefreak and Cornova respectively. The only rights I hold are to the specific events/characters that are exclusive to this story, and the plot of this story in itself.

Most people's stories extend before the beginning of the ultimate hardship. Often times they will recall and retell the prelude to our damnation. In most people's minds, it began on the day that the end became plausible; when our companions lost control, when they surged with unforeseen power, and when they injured themselves in a desperate bid to control the massive energy they now had at their disposal. To many this is the day they lost their first friend, either to their own rampage, or a simple parting into the night, without farewell. A friend I had met after the fact had extensive knowledge of ancient lore; long before anything that history books knew of. He said that this was not a new change, that it was actually the Pokemon moving back to their powerful and primordial existence. So we had a name for it.

This was the priming.

Unlike most people, I do not recall that which preceded this apocalypse. That day so long ago, separated by time and lives and living, is beyond my grasp. I cannot call the day that I do not recall- that I cannot identify- the day my world ended.

I am not the person that I was before that day, nor is anyone else. At some point in the timeline some bored deity decided to throw peace to the wind to see what would happen. What happened was when this time line shifted, the people we were wound up being swept out of their shoes and shoved into a distant, peaceful past while we got crammed into these shoes walking along the flaming fields of hell.

A bit dramatic, but I digress.

The day when the world truly ended for me-when the person who wears this skin, breathes with these lungs and walks in these boots was born- has another name entirely, also courtesy of my well-informed friend.

The Shattering.

This was the day in which millennium of societies' advancements and adjustments were thrown down the big, divine toilet. I was in Goldenrod city when it happened, the attacks anyways. My well-informed companion said the fact that I can say those words today without lying is a miracle in itself. Johto was hit hard, and according to him Goldenrod first and hardest of all. I had wondered exactly why Goldenrod, and when he caught onto my train of thought I almost wished I never questioned it at all.

He came up with a good theory, whats worse is that he came up with the only possible theory. It was frightening that he could so easily put himself in our butcher's shoes, and how analytically he could break down every second of thousands of deaths as though he had planned it himself- that wasn't what scared me most though. What scared me was how clear and sensible, how intelligent the plan was. If this was just a bunch of Pokemon getting blood thirsty and going out to kill humans, or even every Pokemon getting blood thirsty and going out to kill humans, our chances would be better. Our enemies have the strength of beasts, the numbers of legions, the direction of a tactician, and most terrifyingly of all, the minds of soldiers.

Again, I digress from my own story.

AUGUST 17TH

My first thoughts in this world went along the lines of "cold" and "damp" as I slowly shifted my weight on the wet and unforgiving concrete beneath, the leather jacket I wore gripping my body and chaffing my skin in response. My senses were going haywire, but I could make sense of certain sensations; the sticky substance matting my hair to the back of my head was all too noticeable, every inch of my skin was pinched into goosebumps, I could feel each and every hair on my body raised on its own will, and I felt a grip too strong and foreboding for comfort.

I have heard that the instant after someone is born, they are purple, with the reluctance to breathe born into their tiny bodies until the instant they take that first, wonderful gasp of fresh air. In the moment I was able to make sense I was able to endure my every sense assaulting me, I made the necessary concession and took that short, wonderful lungful of air.

I choked. The air was pungent, smelling of faint ozone and blood and of meat far too long cooked. 'Blood, that's what is sticking to the back of my head, but who's?' I wondered to myself in a measured sense of concern.

Imagine a child's great excitement and fear when their eyes first open and they see the vast world in which they inhabit, their mother and father and light and life. Imagining their predicament, their fear is easy to excuse. I opened my eyes to a sky of retracted but ever-present storm clouds. If only the dim and foreboding sky was the only thing that my new and clean eyes saw. Alas they were not.

I would have screamed, would have jerked my hand away and screamed a shrill scream and ran away, but terror had me freeze on the spot, I could only stare into the cloudy, lifeless eyes of the young girl that held my wrist. As the adrenaline and initial shock (but not the horror) subsided I shifted slightly to take in my surroundings. The girl had dark black hair, and appeared to be several years my junior. Death left burns on her legs and arms, but left the girl's face unmarred by its violence.

This girl would never reach my age.

She was one of the less grotesque forms lying about the street. Charred cadavers lay face down in puddles of both clear and crimson fluid. Others were less burnt but no less violated- as pieces flesh clung to walls of buildings and arms and legs were scattered about the street, and others still were intact save for a gooey mess of gray-pink tissue sprouting from their necks, their need for eyes and ears diminished as quickly as their life was snuffed.

The intense gore and carnage in front of me was contrasted by what lay behind me, what truly struck fear and sorrow into the recesses of my soul. They stood still on both feet, raised but no less departed. Their nerves were fried by the bolt that had stolen so much else, they were long since dead, but their limbs would not catch on until time wore them away to bones. Their final moment was frozen, and they held what had once been what I could only assume were cellphones. They would not say farewell to the ones they loved, for their arms were outstretched to take pictures, their death was spent in awe, not fear. The horrible travesty of their killer would be etched into their poses until they were nothing. With this even the piles of ash that lay on the ground ahead and scattered in the wind seemed comforting.

To the person I once was this would have been a haunting place, but the moment I opened my eyes that person had fled, perhaps never to return, and for the person who now had a bloody head, wore the uncomfortable leather coat- this was his first memory, this was life.

My blood froze as one of the stiffened bodies toppled suddenly, their timeless stance undone by gravity working in tandem with another force, low to the ground and unseen.

I was not alone in this mass grave so recently made.

I caught only fleeting glimpses at first, short red legs skittering behind me, and their owners stood over and around the body they had toppled. They were Corphish, six in all and they had lowered their heads to check on what I assumed to be their master. My heart gave a twinge at their fidelity and concern, but my body pinned my back to the ground, not so quick to trust.

Two Corphish had been drawn into a dispute, both with blood running down their fronts. They drew away from the body and gave me a view that would haunt my nightmares for many nights to come.

Blood dripped down their faces, flesh hanging from their mouth as I fought the urge to retch. Only then did I notice the ringing in my ears had subsided, and that a grotesque tearing and slurping took its place. The Corphish's intent was evident as the body shook as they shook in tandem with their spines, ripping large chunks from their victim.

Even more noise drew my attention to the fighting duo as one raised its claw above its head and brought it down onto its opponent, who quickly raised its guard and blocked the blow with both claws. The remaining four Corphish cheered and jeered at the violence, and I could see the lust for blood gushing forth from their eyes.

The defensive Corphish blocked the first attack, but the offending brawler was relentless, continuously beating his claws against the other's guard. The defending Corphish grunted and held at first, but with each blow its defense wavered more and more. Finally, sensing that victory was close at hand, the offending Corphish rose his claw, and brought it down with a glowing smash. The Corphish jeered and I again fought the urge to retch as blood and brain tissue flew from its head, the shell having given way and cracked under the force of the blow.

Then it struck me- the direness of my predicament. My body went rigid despite my beating and flying heart Pokémon lacked the ability to do true damage, at least not to so grave a degree as I had just witnessed. But then the evidence was right before my eyes. And Pokémon eating people? Corphish could eat and digest almost anything, but I had never considered the possibility that they would eat people!

My heart died down as the Corphish returned to their gory feast, and sped again as one of the Corphish; the very one that had just killed before my eyes, set its sights on me. I clenched and remained still, praying that with every tap of its legs on the concrete it would change direction, and ignore me.

It seemed my prayers went unanswered as it continued onwards, stopping just short of me and rather settled for the girl who had been holding my wrist. My wish was granted, but I was not content.

As the Corphish prepared itself for its personal meal a sense of wrongness exploded in me, feeding my rage. 'How dare they attempt to consume this innocent girl! Were they the ones responsible for this horror!' As it drew closer to its meal I became all to aware of the contents of my other hand.

The scavenger froze, a steel blade jutting from the roof of its mouth, having arrived there courtesy of the small knife I held. In that moment right after I killed it, I realized the severity of my mistake. If it were to die and fall over, it would alert the others, whom would surely attempt to kill me.

I sat still for what felt like an hour, perhaps two. To my relief as I retracted my finger length blade from its body the small scavenger stood secure. I thanked whatever deity it had been that had orchestrated crustacean physiology, its joints having frozen from a harden in the instant I acted. My relief quickly gave way to the need to plan, the necessity of action- I could not play dead forever.

My eyes scanned the streets for a plausible escape, and found none. I looked again, hoping to be wrong only to be disappointed. I tried yet a third time and rejoiced the fruits of my labor. A manhole cover lay in place in an alleyway not twenty feet to my right. If I could make it into the sewers using my knife as a lever to force the cover off, I may have a chance.

Then there was the elephant in the room to address.

I tugged on my arm, feeling the strength of the young girls death grip. I tugged again to make sure she would not come loose. Her pale and dead fingers held strong, refusing to part from my wrist, and a part of me was glad that I would save at least one person's body from defilement.

I began the difficult journey to the alley way and stopped just short of the sewers, checking behind me to make sure it was safe. Satisfied I was indeed alone, I wedged my weapon under the manhole, attempting to force it up. I failed, and again I failed, and again.

I checked behind me to make sure that I was still safe, and sighed in defeat. What good was a manhole if you could not remove it?

I had all but given up, and struck the metal disk in anger. A resounding thrum greeted my ears, and I froze in terror, wondering if the corphish had heard, but then -to my immense joy- the cover budged, a large hand guiding it from it place of rest from beneath, before quickly pulling me into the darkness.

The hidden utopia beneath the streets were exactly what you would expect the sewers to be like, water dripped in slowly from the recent rain via through storm drain. Thankfully we were not in the waterways, rather there was a concrete walkway stretching alongside them. As you would anticipate, there was little light; and we had no choice but to rely on the small beams of light that shone through the storm drains and the small, pitiful flame from the lighter my savior held.

My savior, a man wearing the denim uniform of a city construction worker, appeared to be in his thirties, or perhaps his late twenties. He had dirty blond hair (an uncommon color in Johto, so it would seem) and he allowed it to grow a fair length, his bangs stopping right above his eyebrows. He was about my height and girth, though it was difficult to tell in the dim lighting. A large wrench rested at his feet, and I noticed from how he shifted his weight and allowed his hands to dangle low he seemed ready reach for it at a moments notice.

After he was satisfied that the manhole cover was secured, he quickly turned to and began interrogating me. "What the hell is going on up there?" he asked, his voice frantic and so clueless it led me to question how long he had been in the sewers.

My hairs stood on end from the images that flowed through my head, and I had to forcefully repress the memories before I could hope to utter a meaningful word. "I don't know" I said slowly, restraining my voice "Something killed everyone up there. The Pokemon have gone ballistic and their attacks seem so... real. People were killed electric attacks, and I saw a Corphish use crab hammer to kill another Corphish, they're eating the bodies up there. Beyond that, I am clueless".

The man swore audibly before his gaze rested on the girl I was carrying "How did you two survive?" and he cringed as I winced from his question.

"How did I survive." I corrected, finally using my free hand to pull the young girls eyelids closed. "She is no longer with us". The worker knelt beside where I rested beside her on the ground and placed a hand on her pulse, despite all the evidence against the attempt, and withdrew his fingers hesitantly.

"How many dead?" he muttered the question like a curse.

I was hesitant to answer, but he had a right to know the fate of his home, so I tried to answer, keeping my voice slow and steady. "I don't know. A lot. It was worse the closer you were to the radio tower, there were ashes and body pa-"

"ENOUGH!" he yelled in distress, and I could not truly blame him, the images of the carnage was fresh in my mind, and it was best if I were not to let it infect others. The man turned his attention back to the girl, studying the burns on her arms and investigating her hair. After a minute or two, he turned back to me, finally sharing his thoughts, "The burns and the death you told me are consistent with electric shock. It must have been one heck of a shock in order to disintegrate people on the spot." he briefly choked, his chest trembling as a single sob rose in his throat, before he managed to force it back down, "The bolt likely hit a car, causing an explosion leaving that much gore flung around." Satisfied with his autopsy, the man collapsed onto the ground, sitting on the hard concrete.

I meanwhile, was lost in thought. "I woke up right next to this girl, why is it I survived?"

The man looked at me curiously before tapping my leather coat. "That jacket looks like it's made out of specially treated leather. Leather is a good insulator of heat, which would help you not get burned like she did", he gestured to the girl still holding my wrist, "Also some companies make polymers of rubber, leather, and plastic cause it's cheaper and it increase its lifespan", With that resolved the older man slid a thin metal rod under the girls finger and pried them away from my wrist.

I flexed my fingers experimentally, this being the first time my wrist was free since I woke up. The man rose to his feet and offered me a hand to help me up as he introduced himself "My name is Lawrence, I'm a handyman in Goldenrod, for now, I'm something of jack of all trades."

I accepted his hand graciously and rose to my feet "You're going to be really busy if we survive this ordeal." the joke was awful, and in poor taste, but I couldn't help but snicker, "I'm-" I stopped suddenly, when no words came to mind to finish the statement. I rose my hand to my temple, attempting to dispel whatever confusion kept me from answering, but nothing came to mind.

Try as I might I could not answer that seemingly simple question that kept repeating in my head 'Who am I?', the thought ricocheted and bounced around in my skull, but picking up speed as it went unanswered. As my discomfort grew, so did the number of questions 'how did I get here, how old am I, what do I look like, who is this girl?'

"Kid, Kid!" Lawrence shook my shoulder in an attempt to get my attention, bringing me back into awareness, "What happened there, you just grabbed your temple and groaned all of a sudden".

I shook my worries from my head and managed to stutter "I-I don't know."

"You don't know what happened?"

"No, my name."

The man looked at me in concern "You're name?" I nodded "Turn around" and I complied. Lawrence whistled "That looks bad. Looks like you hit your head when you got hit by the lightning." he said "I'd guess amnesia. So what are we going to call you?"

I shook my head "We have more important things to do. What do you know about what happened, and what's our plan?

Lawrence shrugged and looked at his watch, "About... six hours ago there was a big commotion up there. I was stuck down here, so I wandered through the sewers trying to find a manhole, none of them would open. It died down a bit, and I made my way back to the city entrance, but my flashlight died and I got a bit lost. I actually found you on by accident, I was opening manhole to find my bearings."

"Do you have any Pokémon that could use flash? Or something else to light the way?"

He only looked at me oddly for a moment and then put his hand over his forehead "Right, amnesia. Everyone's Pokémon went ballistic yesterday. They lost control and began attacking wildly. I hear it was bad, a lot of people and Pokémon were injured." He brought a Pokéballs from his belt upwards. "I was lucky, none of mine were injured, but they've all been out of it for a while now." He returned the Pokéballs to his belt "You?"

I searched my belt as he did, but found nothing. I checked my pockets as well, before having an epiphany and opening my jacket to find six Pokéballs strapped to the inside of the coat "Looks like I have some Pokémon, but lets leave them be for now" I closed my jacket. "Plan?"

"There's a booth near the city entrance to the sewers. It should have some supplies, batteries, some food, some other tools we could use. After that we should try to use the sewers to get out of the city."

"The sewers head out of the city?" I asked.

"You could say that. They lead to a water treatment plant a mile or two out. Most people don't like the idea of a big facility like that near them, so we built it a ways out from the city."

"But first the city sewer access?"

"First the city sewer access." He turned towards the girls body, "What are you gonna do with her?"

And inner turmoil ensued again. Logically, I had no reason to bring her, now that my wrist was freed from her grasp. The smart thing to do would be to leave her there to rot, where she would hinder us no more. At the same time there was that angel on my shoulder telling me to take her and give her a proper (or at least as proper as I could manage) burial. Then the angel on my shoulder said something that I had not thought yet. What if I knew her before this? The thought whizzed around in my head, and after a brief glance back at her, my good conscious had all but won.

Lawrence gave no argument as I picked her up and hoisted her over my shoulder. Before we began walking he asked me one last question, "Sorry for sending you back to that scene, but you said that you saw the radio tower? Where was it in relation to where we are now?" I mentally sifted through all the images of the bodies, and did the best I could to pinpoint the position of the radio tower. He nodded and said "Good, it should be at most half an hour away." And we set out.

We moved in a pregnant silence, neither saw the need nor desire to talk about what transpired, and we could not belittle it by speaking of anything else. I'd like to believe we made good time, and I was amazed by the ability Lawrence displayed as he navigated through the sewers. If not for his impeccable sense of direction, I'd have wondered within the sewers forever. As we rounded another corner I paused, catching an anomaly in the dark. I froze "Lawrence, take a look at this." He stopped and made his way over to me and looked at the target of my interest.

An entire section of the wall on the right route had been reduced to rubble, and large swaths of damaged concrete shot out several feet from the origin of damage. Power lines running across the wall were cut and tangled into a mangled mess. "What do you make of this, right here?" I asked Lawrence, planning to defer to his experience.

He shook his head, "That's what I was sent down here to fix. Usually there's power and lights running down the tunnel, but for some reason a bunch of the power lines stopped working. Now I know why."

I looked down the tunnel and recalled the direction it led to. "This tunnel goes near the ocean, doesn't it? Is it possible that a Pokémon swam up into the sewers, and has been going on a rampage down here?"

"Normally there is a steel grate between the sewers down that way, but with what's been going on recently it's possible." He responded, anxiety growing thicker in the air with every word. He shook his head side to side wildly "Regardless, we need to get to that room soon." And we walked on.

This part of our walk was longer and dripping with anticipation. We were silent not for lack of reason to speak, but the necessity of stealth bound by our morbid fear. Every footfall echoed through the tunnels like an avalanche.

After what seemed like an eternity, we came upon a large steel door along one of the walls, and Lawrence handed me the lighter so he could use the key.

The room was small and depressing. Concrete walls shot up from the floor at the end of the room, several lockers lie along one wall, a desk in one corner, a small fridge in another, and a small closet on the wall. Opposite of the door we entered, a dingy and uninviting elevator was built into the wall. I placed down the girl and pushed a button experimentally, only to find the power in this room was absent.

Lawrence was at the desk, opening a drawer and sifting through the contents before his hands emerged from the mess holding several batteries, which he deftly placed into the flashlight at his waist. Satisfied, Lawrence switched on a small, battery powered lantern so the concrete walls seemed less dark and desolate.

"Search the room and place anything useful on the center of the floor." Lawrence directed, "Leave the fridge, we'll get dinner from there. I'll handle the lockers."

I began searching every corner and container of the room, coming forth with over a dozen batteries of varying sizes, six cans of food had come from the closet, along with several tool belts and a couple pairs of sturdy denim jeans and orange vests, a few heavy duty flashlights, a toolbox, a basic first aid kit, and a canteen of water.

As soon as I set the last thing down I watched Lawrence mess with the combination lock, before deciding that crushing the locks with a small clamp was a better choice. The locks were cheap, and gave way after he tightened the jaws several times and he opened the first locker.

A backpack hung suspended on a hook, with another canteen not unlike the one that I found, a small multi-tool, another small lighter and a pack of cigarettes (that I pretended not to notice him pocket), another toolbox, and a pair of two way radios. The second locker was empty, but the third one contained several canteens, a can of soda, a large backpack, and a small unusual piece of metal.

Lawrence bent over and picked it up, revealing it to be a small pistol, first making sure that the safety was on, then removing the magazine and checking the chamber-empty. He placed the pistol in a small loop I assumed a tool was supposed to go, using it as a holster. Next he lifted one of the canteens and sniffed its contents before placing it in a side pouch on the backpack. "Whiskey" he explained "I think we can use it to clean water, but we'd need a filter first." He eyed the first aid kit, and procured a bit of gauze, which he proceeded to shape into something remotely resembling a sock "Now we can purify water easily." He looked at the accumulated pile of items "add anything you have on you that may be useful" and proceeds to do the same.

At the end of the endeavor I had smaller backpack, and he has the larger one. I was outfitted with a small tool-belt- in which was a hammer, my switchblade, the lighter we found, a flashlight, a screwdriver, and a small straight and L shaped pin that I had on my person (I imagine it looked suspicious, but Lawrence only joked about "kids and their funny past times") and a canteen filled with warm water. In my backpack there was a second bottle of water, all our food, and a pair of jeans (just in case). He was given custody of the first aid kit, the gun, a large wrench, a screwdriver not unlike mine, the alcohol (he claimed on the grounds I may get curious, being to young to drink I'd likely give it a try and waste it), his cigarettes (which he swore he would not use unless we reached safety), his lighter, the filter, the can of soda (saving it for a special occasion), his previous tools, and the empty gun.

"I suppose that all that's left is to crack open that fridge and get some shut-eye" Lawrence said, I caught a glimpse of his watch, and realized that we were into the early hours of the night.

Still, caution took priority, "Are we certain that this room is safe?" I asked him.

He nodded reassuringly, "We're underground, and these walls are thick and made of concrete. The door is thick and steel, with reinforced hinges and locks. We'll be safe for the night."

The refrigerator surrendered several sandwiches of various contents, most of which he allowed me to eat. He commandeered several soda cans and put them in his backpack, along with a couple bottles of beer and some cans (why in the fridge, who knows?).

We ate the sandwiches in silence, I could not remember my last meal and it sounded as though my companion had been wondering this urban labyrinth all day. If I or Lawrence had realized that we were eating a dead man's lunch, we found it inconsequential. After this he allowed us to both split a can of soda, in celebration of surviving the first day.

Before we turned off the lantern to hit the hay I asked a question that had been scratching at the corners of my mind "Lawrence, where will we go once we get out of the city? We don't know whether this was just in Goldenrod, or all of Johto, or the whole world. Where will we be safe?"

I could see him cringe at such a terrifying prospect, but he recovered quickly "Don't worry Kid, the rest of Johto can't be THIS bad" he joked, before laying down a map on the ground "The way I see it, once we get out we can head along the coast-"

"No" I interrupted him, "nothing good can come from going along the coast."

Lawrence shrugged "Someplace with that national guard, or somewhere with a league presence I guess. Preferably a place with a gym leader"

"So does Goldenrod doesn't have a gym leader?" I asked, and he looked away sheepishly.

"It does, or rather it did. Her name was Whitney, and she was one of the stronger ones. But I heard that she often leaves the city to see family, so either she wasn't here or she was very unlucky."

"Then what makes you think that these towns will be any different?"

"You said you didn't want to travel along the coast, were there water Pokémon out there?"

I nodded "Corphish, and those are only the ones I saw."

Lawrence nodded slowly "All three of these places are landlocked. No Corphish will be knocking on their doors. And who knows? Maybe this has only happened in Goldenrod and is an isolated incident." I sorely doubted it, but then again, I was different, than he was, His first memories were in a home, my own were among corpses.

"Anyways lets take this one step at a time. Get out of the city, then we can decide where to go next, alright Kid?" he continued. I nodded, and he checked the lock one more time to make sure it was secure, before proceeding to reach for the lamp one more time, and this time it went off without protest, leaving both of us in the darkness.

Thanks to Cornova for letting me write this, constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

9-23-18; made some edits to correct some of the grammar and place emphasis on certain things, so it should be easier for new readers to get into it. Will continue going through chapters for a bit.