Want to read ahead. You know where
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Unova Region – Icirrus City – Dragonspiral Tower
The ancient tower rose into the sky, its structure scarred by time and weather.
Even from a distance, its presence carried weight.
Sam stood with Cynthia at the base of the Dragonspiral Tower.
She tilted her head up, gazing at the crumbling spire with a touch of nostalgia.
"I came here once with my grandmother," she said softly, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"We investigated the tower's history. Unfortunately, most of it has already collapsed. It doesn't hold much research value anymore."
Sam's eyes lingered on the ruins, unwavering.
To Cynthia, the tower might be nothing more than a relic.
But Sam felt something else, something powerful stirring inside.
The three Powers within him whispered in unison, warning him that the energy inside the tower was no illusion.
"It's said a Legendary Pokémon of Unova might be sleeping here," Sam murmured, his tone casual, though his gaze sharpened.
Cynthia gave a faint smile, crossing her arms.
"That's just a legend. Most scholars dismissed it years ago."
Sam didn't answer.
He only kept staring at the tower as the air around them seemed to thrum.
They moved closer, the crunch of gravel underfoot echoing faintly.
The silence of the forest broke when Sam suddenly froze, his expression darkening.
"There are people ahead," he said quietly.
Cynthia blinked.
"People?"
Sam didn't explain further.
"Darkrai," Sam ordered, his voice calm but sharp, "flush them out."
Darkrai hissed, its claws slicing forward.
Darkness pulsed outward, a wave of energy crashing into the nearby tall grass.
Boom!
A sharp explosion of energy blasted through the field.
Startled cries erupted as people in white uniforms stumbled out, scrambling to their feet.
A few fell to the ground, groaning from the backlash.
"Team Plasma!" Cynthia's eyes widened in recognition.
Her voice carried a note of anger.
The grunts, realizing their ambush had failed, turned pale.
"Run!" one of them shouted.
But Darkrai was already moving.
Like a shadow gliding across the ground, it reached them before they could scatter.
"You think you can escape?" Sam's voice was quiet, almost cold.
"Darkrai, bind them."
A sinister haze spread from Darkrai's body, stretching into clawed black hands.
They shot forward, gripping the Plasma grunts like a predator seizing prey.
No matter how they struggled, they couldn't break free.
Pinned and trembling, the captives could only stare in terror at Darkrai's looming form.
Cynthia stepped closer, her eyes sharp.
"Why is Team Plasma here?" she demanded.
One of the grunts tried to keep his composure, but the shadowy aura pressing down on him made his voice tremble.
"I-It was an order… We were told to guard this place… and keep intruders out…"
"Guard it?" Cynthia narrowed her eyes.
"What are you planning?"
The grunt suddenly straightened, his fear cracking into fanaticism.
"You wouldn't understand! We seek to liberate every Pokémon in the world! We follow our king, the one chosen by Zekrom itself!"
His voice shook with both dread and pride.
"It won't be long… our king will descend with Zekrom by his side!"
The other grunts nodded desperately, clinging to the same belief, though their bodies still trembled under Darkrai's grasp.
Cynthia's frown deepened, and she glanced at Sam.
"Zekrom…" she muttered.
Sam didn't answer right away.
He only watched the tower, the words of the grunts echoing in his mind.
If what they claimed was true, then this place wasn't just a ruin; it was a battlefield.
"Liberate the Unova Region, and then the entire world!" one of the Plasma grunts shouted, voice trembling with fanatic conviction.
His eyes burned as he glared at Cynthia and Sam.
"So what if you're the Champion? Under Zekrom's power, you'll both be crushed to dust!"
Sam arched an eyebrow at the man's bravado.
From the tone alone, it was obvious these grunts worshiped their so-called king without question.
"Liberating the world with just Zekrom?" Sam's lips curved into a faint, amused smile.
"You really don't know how big this world is."
The grunt's face twisted with anger, but Sam didn't stop.
"Zekrom may be powerful, but against Rayquaza's Dragon Ascent or even Kyurem's frozen fury, it wouldn't last long. Your king is dreaming if he thinks one dragon will hand him the world."
The grunt bristled, his fists clenching.
"You know nothing of the king's greatness!" he shouted, struggling against Darkrai's grip.
Sam's expression darkened, his earlier amusement fading into something colder.
"I've heard enough."
His voice dropped to a whisper, sharp as a blade.
"You're worthless to me now."
Darkrai's crimson eye glowed.
A ripple of black haze swirled outward, wrapping around the captured Plasma members.
One by one, their bodies went limp as they sank into a nightmare-filled slumber, collapsing like puppets with cut strings.
The shadows carried them aside and tossed them into the grass like discarded trash.
"Rest well," Sam murmured, his tone almost mocking.
"Though I doubt you'll ever want to sleep again."
Cynthia's gaze lingered on the unconscious grunts.
Her expression tightened, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.
"If what they said is true… Team Plasma has already caught with Zekrom."
She clenched her fists slightly, her voice low and troubled.
"I hope they were lying."
Sam noticed the shadow crossing her face.
Without hesitation, he slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
"Don't worry," he said lightly, his confidence unshaken.
"Even if the sky falls, I'll be here to hold it up. And a single Zekrom isn't enough to shake the Alliance."
His eyes softened as he glanced at the tower.
"Besides… there's still Reshiram."
Hearing that name, Cynthia looked up at him, her golden eyes brightening despite her earlier fear.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
"Then, husband," she teased gently, "you'd better catch Reshiram quickly."
Sam couldn't help but chuckle. He reached out, playfully brushing her nose with his finger.
"No problem."
With that, he tightened his arm around her, guiding her toward the looming Dragonspiral Tower.
The crumbling ruins seemed to watch them as they stepped forward, the weight of history and destiny waiting beyond the threshold.