The eight-man patrol squad surrounded the mysterious figure clad in a long black robe, his face hidden beneath a deep hood.
Just as the mysterious man had anticipated, the Mightyena belonging to the two injured guards earlier were standard-issue Pokémon. The eight patrol members now facing him had also deployed Mightyena.
Because Poochyena are canines, much like Growlithe, they are easy to domesticate and are therefore widely used as standardized Pokémon. Their evolved form, Mightyena, however, is a proud Pokémon. If it does not acknowledge its Trainer, it will refuse to obey commands. This alone indicated that the patrol squad leader possessed some degree of real strength.
But to the mysterious figure, none of this mattered.
The patrol squad did not dare to attack. Instead, they advanced slowly, tightening their formation along with their Pokémon, attempting to compress the space and deny the enemy any escape route. From the two heavily injured guards earlier, they already knew that beneath the robe-like cloak, the mysterious man was hiding a terrifying Psychic-type Pokémon.
And the City Hall plaza outside—nearly reduced to rubble—was more than enough proof of just how powerful this opponent was.
This was an enemy they could not hope to defeat.
Yet even knowing that, duty forbade retreat. Whether captain or subordinate, every member of the patrol silently prayed that this mysterious man would show mercy and not strike them down like insignificant insects.
The League-ruled world was peaceful on the surface, but ruthless criminals were never absent. Every year, there were incidents involving Trainers of considerable strength turning to crime. The destruction caused by such Trainers far exceeded that of ordinary criminals—casualties were not uncommon.
"Shh…"
The mysterious figure suddenly raised a finger, signaling silence.
The patrol members nearly jumped out of their skins. Their advancing steps halted instantly, several even retreating instinctively. Their Pokémon tucked their tails tightly.
Unlike these non-Trainer patrolmen, Pokémon possessed far sharper instincts. Whether Poochyena or Mightyena, they could sense the Psychic presence beneath the cloak—an oceanic vastness that inspired primal fear.
Seeing their reaction, the mysterious figure chuckled softly.
"…Do not make a sound. As witnesses, what you are about to see is the Soul Dew—an artifact spoken of only in Alto Mare's most ancient legends."
With those words, he stepped forward, stopping beneath the towering bronze structure that stood over twenty meters tall.
The patrol members watched with bated breath. As locals, they were all familiar with the legend of the Soul Dew. They exchanged looks of disbelief—could it truly be hidden here? If so, how had it remained undiscovered for so many years?
"This bronze construct is the oldest man-made artifact in this museum," the mysterious figure said slowly. "I do not know how your ancestors forgot their duty, reducing it to a mere decorative symbol, neglecting its true function."
His voice carried a distant echo, as though recounting a forgotten epoch.
"…Long ago, Latios and Latias each crystallized a fragment of their souls. These fragments merged into a single gem—the Soul Dew. It served as the covenant between the twin Pokémon and this city."
"…Everyone believed the Soul Dew to be nothing more than a symbolic token. Yet in truth, it is an energy core. Alto Mare's ancestors constructed this bronze mechanism to extract its power and supply the city."
"Ancient civilizations could achieve miracles in certain areas, but they could not match modern technological systems. As humanity developed independent energy sources, the machine—and the Soul Dew—were gradually forgotten."
"Since the Soul Dew is now useless to you… hand it over to me."
He suddenly raised both hands.
Psychic waves surged outward from his body. The energy seemed to activate a hidden mechanism within the bronze structure. Before the patrol's astonished eyes, the construct unfolded with intricate, clockwork-like precision.
A hollow opened beneath it.
From within slid a stone platform.
Resting atop it was a radiant gemstone shaped like a droplet, glowing from within—beautiful, serene, and vast, like the heart of the ocean itself.
As the Soul Dew emerged, the dark interior of City Hall was flooded with blue light, illuminating every corner as though submerged beneath the sea.
The patrol captain's throat went dry.
He exchanged a glance with his subordinates—then suddenly lunged forward.
"…Put the Soul Dew down! That belongs to Alto Mare!"
It was not greed that drove them.
As citizens of Alto Mare, faced with a legendary treasure of their homeland, instinct overpowered fear.
"I'm sorry," the mysterious figure replied softly. "But this gem is vital to me. I cannot comply."
He spun around sharply, his sleeve snapping outward.
A psychic storm erupted like a category-thirteen hurricane, pulverizing one entire wall of City Hall into dust. Glass shattered, masonry collapsed, and stone tiles ripped free—turned into high-speed projectiles that blasted the patrol members and their Pokémon through the air.
While Psychic attacks cannot directly affect Dark-types, true Psychic masters manipulate the environment itself, converting energy into overwhelming physical devastation.
The patrol stood no chance against the tons of debris hurled by the storm.
In seconds, they were buried beneath rubble, their agonized cries echoing through the ruins.
The mysterious figure grasped the Soul Dew and strode out of City Hall.
Before him lay the shattered plaza.
At the far end, a hundred-strong security force stood in full formation, watching him warily.
The figure laughed softly.
"…This many people are nowhere near enough. If you truly hope for a miracle—to stop me—you would need ten times, a hundred times more."
He raised both hands.
The air solidified.
A terrifying psychic presence erupted from beneath his cloak, forming a pressure vortex. Winds converged, atmospheric pressure plunged, heat soared. Humans and Pokémon alike struggled to breathe—as though the world had become nothing but psychic particles.
"Watch out!"
Someone screamed.
The security force hastily ordered defensive formations—but it was futile.
"Psystrike."
A demonic roar tore through the air.
Psychic force smashed down like siege rams from all directions, flinging the entire security force skyward amid screams. Military vehicles weighing several tons were overturned and hurled into the canal. Trees were uprooted. The statues of Latios and Latias were reduced to dust.
...
Stone pillars collapsed. Lights shattered. Power lines snapped, crackling with electricity.
An entire sector of Alto Mare plunged into darkness.
The canal exploded upward in a ten-meter-high surge. Nearby buildings lost every window; even three-story structures were riddled with cracks.
With a single attack, the city center was nearly annihilated.
Spectators from the bar district screamed and fled. Trainers arriving from the Pokémon Center froze in horror—no one dared step forward.
This level of power… at minimum rivaled a Gym Leader's ace Pokémon.
No—judging from the psychic output, only an Elite Four-level Trainer could oppose this.
And yet—
No one still knew what Pokémon hid beneath that cloak.
Amid screams, groans, and rushing water, the mysterious figure raised the Soul Dew high, his voice echoing across the city:
"…Come forth, Latios and Latias. Fulfill your duty as Alto Mare's guardians!"
The moment his voice fell silent—
Two dragon roars erupted from the garden behind City Hall.
Twin dragon silhouettes soared skyward.
In awe, terror, and desperate hope, the crowd watched as Latios and Latias, eyes blazing with fury, launched themselves straight toward the mysterious invader.
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