#underwcorlds

          He felt it, even through his fitful sleep, that surge of overwhelming and evil power, something that was simply not NATURAL in any kind of Pokemon. It was an energy unlike anything Groudon had ever encountered before, a power that threatened to challenge the might of the continents itself.

          A massiv,e red head reared up to face the shadowy apparition of Lugia that existed before him, a sight that he himself thought of nothing but a mere illusion at first, but was brought to the realization that it was real by that surge of destructive power.

          Bright, yellow eyes flared wide as they examined the other tainted Legendary, nostrils flaring as he growled out his next few words-

Silence you fool! Your task now involves scrubbing the stalls for the remainder of the week.

Arceus looked on from a slight distance, the mere sight of the dark creature brought chills to his spine. Tainted, corrupted by the shadows. What made it worse for him in particular was....he’d seen something similar before. He’d seen what it was capable of doing to the mind, to the heart.

The deity had to cast aside the creeping thoughts, terrible memories of the distant past. Composing himself in the face of the horrid energy that nauseated him, Arceus approached with care. Hovering through the sky, and constantly on guard, just in case.

“ɴᴏ..., ɴᴏ-!!”

It couldn’t be-IT CAN’T BE.

Why must the corruption keep coming back? Here she was starring at her dark reflection once more. It was so real..., unlike any hallucination or nightmare she’s had of her dark times at Cipher; she can practically feel it.

“ɢɛᏆ ǟաǟʏ! ʏօʊ ɖɨֆɢʊֆᏆɨռɢ ʋʊʟᏆʊʀɛ!! ʟɛǟʋɛ ʍɛ!!”

@underwcorlds

It had to be done.

The ruined old temple was silent, save for the footsteps of the visitor. Price knew he shouldn’t have gone to this forbidden place, but he had no choice. Makarov needed to pay for killing Soap and prison was too good for him. Yes, there were other heinous crimes the bastard had committed, but the Scot’s death at his hands had overshadowed them. Price didn’t care if the war ended; his lust for revenge had consumed him.

For him, it wasn’t enough for Makarov to die.

The bastard needed to suffer.

Price exhaled and, with his combat knife in hand, winced as he made a small slit on the tip of his finger. The cut didn’t need to be big, but just enough for the blood to trickle out. He walked over to the altar and smeared the sanguine liquid onto the stone. The old man sat down and began to chant the spell to summon the dark deity of the temple. “Hear me, dark god of vengeance.

Someone has done me wrong

And needed to suffer for his sins.

O, Gale of Darkness, come forth

And give me the power to punish

The one who took my friend away.

Onto you, I offer my heart and soul.”

As soon as the last words left his lips, Price stood and waited for a response. He didn’t expect anything, truth be told, but if the rumors of the ruined temple were true…

Her eye’s only squinted slightly at the other dark wyvern, a movement of the shoulders pushing her feathery crest up above her beak.