Pokémon Invasion: Explaining Pokémon to Save the World

Chen Mo followed the direction of the voice and saw that, at some point, an elderly man wearing a crown had appeared before the massive mural of Zekrom.

Two Unown floated quietly at the old man’s sides. With eyes full of age and vicissitudes, he gazed toward Chen Mo, his tone gentle.

”One who bears ideals, welcome.

My name is Arthas—

a sinner who betrayed his ideals.”

Once again, the meaning of words spoken in an unknown language was conveyed directly to Chen Mo’s mind.

But with just that sentence, and the conspicuous crown atop the man’s head, Chen Mo immediately understood the other party’s true identity.

This elderly man was, without a doubt, the chosen hero depicted in the murals.

Looking at that weathered face, no matter how friendly the man’s attitude seemed, Chen Mo could not help but remain cautious.

After all, while the first half of this man’s life was saintlike and worthy of reverence, the latter half—demonic in nature—was equally terrifying.

As Chen Mo observed this legendary figure, whose merits and sins alike were etched into history, a question surfaced in his mind.

Shouldn’t he already be dead?

Was his current existence that of a soul?

That wasn’t impossible.

Chen Mo clearly remembered an episode from a Pokémon anime he had watched as a child—at a place called Maiden’s Peak, a young girl’s spirit had once appeared.

Sensing Chen Mo’s vigilance, Arthas showed no sign of displeasure. He slowly descended the steps, accompanied by the Unown, and stopped before one of the murals.

It depicted the moment when Zekrom revealed the location of its slumber to Arthas.

”Long ago,” Arthas said softly, ”I believed I would spend my entire life accompanied by Zekrom. But one day, Zekrom suddenly told me that a ’vessel’ was calling to it. In order to suppress that call, Zekrom had no choice but to enter a deep slumber.”

”At the time, I did not realize that it would be the last time I would ever meet Zekrom as a companion.”

”As for what came after—you already know. I betrayed Zekrom, and I betrayed my own ideals, ultimately drawing down Zekrom’s wrath.”

Arthas let out a bitter smile.

”If I had simply died beneath Zekrom’s anger, that would have been fitting punishment for my sins. But Zekrom did not kill me.”

”When I awoke again, I saw a kingdom reduced to ruins. In my ears echoed the wails of humans and Pokémon alike. Only then did I understand—this was Zekrom’s punishment. It wanted me to truly comprehend what I had done during those years.”

Chen Mo remained silent.

He neither blindly believed Arthas nor questioned him outright. He simply listened.

Thus, two people from different eras—indeed, from different worlds—one speaking, the other listening, formed an oddly harmonious tableau within this space.

”…My feeble attempts at atonement were of little use to a world still engulfed in war,” Arthas continued.

”So I resolved to once again search for Zekrom—to return the power that rightfully belonged to it, and to beg it not to lose hope in humanity.”

”But perhaps Zekrom did not wish to see me… or perhaps it was occupied elsewhere, suppressing the call of that vessel. In the end, even upon my true death, I was never able to meet Zekrom again.”

The bitterness on Arthas’s face deepened.

For him, awakening to the truth in the twilight of his life was both the greatest punishment and the greatest torment of all—losing Zekrom, the companion who had walked beside him for decades.

Over that long life, their bond had long surpassed that of ordinary partners. Calling it familial would not have been an exaggeration.

Noticing Arthas’s emotional turmoil, the two Unown circled around him anxiously, as if trying to comfort him.

”Do not worry, Unown,” Arthas said gently. ”I am fine. This is merely the retribution I deserve.”

Gathering himself, he turned to Chen Mo with a serious expression.

”Bearer of ideals, I have a request I wish to entrust to you.”

As he spoke, Arthas nodded toward the Unown. At once, a strange power rippled through space again.

Moments later—

A black bead, no larger than an ordinary marble, emerged from the rippling void and hovered between Arthas and Chen Mo.

”This is the mistake I committed in my past—the fragment of power I had stolen from Zekrom. If possible, I hope that one day, you will return this power to Zekrom.”

Seeing Chen Mo hesitate, Arthas assumed that Chen Mo was still wary of him and continued calmly:

”You need not worry. My body has long since perished, and this remnant of my soul can only communicate with you through the power of the Unown. I pose no threat to you whatsoever.”

So he really was a spirit…

Chen Mo steadied his scattered thoughts, looked at the old man’s spirit before him, and spoke slowly:

”It’s not that I’m unwilling to agree, Mr. Arthas. It’s just that I don’t know where Zekrom is. I may end up disappointing you.”

Hearing this, the old man’s expression softened.

His gaze drifted to the mural of Zekrom beside him.

”I understand your concern. But you need not fear. Zekrom will appear before one who bears ideals. I believe that one day, destiny will guide you and Zekrom to one another.”

Just as it once guided me and it…

Arthas reached out and gently touched the mural of Zekrom, his eyes filled with emotions too complex to put into words.

Chen Mo lowered his head, silent for a long while.

Then, at last, he looked up.

”Mr. Arthas,” he said, ”I will do my best to convey your wishes to Zekrom.”

As he spoke, Chen Mo finally reached out and lightly touched the black bead floating in the air—then, without hesitation, grasped it in his hand.

At that instant—

The originally gray-black bead burst into a brilliant azure glow. Through the light, arcs of electricity could be clearly seen flickering within.

Arthas watched the scene, a look of relief mixed with loneliness appearing on his face.

”Bearer of ideals… it has chosen you.”

Just as Chen Mo was about to say something more, he noticed the surroundings beginning to blur. Arthas, too, seemed to be fading, his body becoming increasingly transparent, as if erased by an invisible hand.

”Mr. Arthas, you—”

”Do not worry,” Arthas said with a calm smile.

”This space that exists between reality and illusion is sustained by the power of the Unown—and a portion of Zekrom’s power as well. What you are witnessing now is simply a natural phenomenon.”

”Unown… send him back.”

Once more, Chen Mo’s body became unresponsive, unable to speak a single word.

”Bearer of ideals, I hope you will maintain the resolve you possess now.

And… thank you.”

In Chen Mo’s final sight, Arthas—dissolving into faint light—slowly turned around. He gazed toward the massive mural of Zekrom, his eyes filled with affection and sorrow.

”I’m sorry, Zekrom…

I let you down…”

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