Killer Croc, a massive, scaly figure, peered from a dark manhole cover across the street. The sounds of the city above seemed to fade into a muffled background hum down in his shadowy domain. His reptilian eyes fixed on the vibrant storefront of Pokémon Home, the neon sign a stark contrast to his murky world.
Kingpin's offer echoed in his mind, a tantalizing promise of stability. A secure home in the labyrinthine New York sewers, far from Gotham's endless hunts. A steady, ample supply of food, no more scavenging for scraps. All he had to do was bring Orion Oak and a few of his unique creatures to Kingpin. Gotham had become too much, a constant cycle of fights and escapes. This deal was a lifeline, one Croc couldn't possibly refuse. He needed this.
With a deep, guttural growl, Croc heaved himself from the manhole, his heavy frame emerging onto the street. Subtlety was never his strong suit, and frankly, he didn't see the point. He charged forward, a blur of green muscle and raw power, slamming into the glass doors of Pokémon Home.
CRASH!
Shards of glass exploded inward, scattering across the reception area with a deafening shatter. Croc stepped over the ruined entrance, his heavy footsteps thudding on the polished floor. His eyes, cold and reptilian, scanned the deserted lobby. He expected a confrontation, a hero, maybe even the strange little yellow thing that had shocked Electro. But there was nothing. Just an empty counter, sparkling debris, and an unsettling silence.
The broken glass crunched under Croc's heavy boots, echoing ominously in the sudden quiet of Pokémon Home. He scanned the empty reception area again. Where were all the noisy people? Where was the boss? This place seemed too quiet, too deserted. It was almost like a trap, but Croc wasn't known for overthinking things. He just wanted to get this job done.
Just as a low growl started to rumble in his chest, a calm voice filled his head.
Why do you breach this place?
The voice felt like it was coming from inside his own skull, resonating deep in his mind. Croc froze, his head snapping around, reptilian eyes darting from side to side. There was no one there. Not a soul. He growled again, a low, questioning sound this time.
You seek my master. State your purpose.
Croc whipped his head toward the counter, then to the shattered doorway, trying to pinpoint the source. Was it a trick? Some hero's mind games? He hated mind games. His eyes narrowed, searching for any sign of a hidden speaker.
Then, a small, glowing green blob with curious eyes floated into view. It pulsed gently, like a tiny, living heart. This thing was no bigger than his fist, almost insignificant amidst the wreckage.
Kingpin had warned him about these creatures. The boss called them "Pokémon." Electro had faced one, apparently a yellow one that spat lightning. This green one looked… harmless. But the voice in his head, that calm, steady voice, had to be coming from it. This little blob could talk.
"You," Croc rumbled, his voice a gravelly whisper as he stared at the floating entity. "Where's Orion Oak?"
Hostile entity detected. Zygarde Core's telepathic voice, calm yet unyielding, filled Croc's mind. My master is not present. You are an intruder. Leave this sanctuary immediately. Failure to comply will result in a forced removal.
Croc let out a dismissive snort, a cloud of stale air puffing from his nostrils. A tiny glowing blob threatening him? That was a good one. He took another heavy step, the broken glass crunching under his feet.
"You ain't forcing nothing," Croc rumbled, his voice low and dangerous. "Kingpin wants this place. And I'm getting it."
The Zygarde Core pulsed, its green light intensifying. Your aggression is noted. Consequences initiated.
A low hum began to vibrate through the shattered storefront. It was a subtle sound at first, barely audible over the distant city noise, but it grew quickly. The glowing Core spun faster, pulling at something unseen. The air around it began to shimmer, like heat rising from asphalt on a summer day.
WHOOSH!
Small, green, hexagonal fragments, like tiny pieces of stained glass, zipped through the broken doorway. They converged on the Core, swirling into a miniature cyclone of light and energy. The light intensified, blinding Croc for a moment.
SHIIIING!
When his vision cleared, the small Core was gone. In its place stood a sleek, canine-like creature, its body a mosaic of green, black, and white cells. Hexagonal patterns glowed along its form, and its eyes, sharp and vigilant, radiated a clear, unwavering purpose. It was much larger than the Core, about the size of a wolf, and it moved with an almost ethereal speed. This was Zygarde 10% Forme, and it was ready for business.
Zygarde 10% let out a low, resonant growl, a sound that vibrated through the floorboards and into Croc's very bones. It wasn't a warning; it was a statement. The broken glass, the destroyed doors—it was all an affront, and Zygarde would not allow it to stand.
Croc was definitely not expecting that. One moment, he was staring down a tiny green blob. The next, whoosh, it was a lean, green wolf-thing. He blinked. Where did it go?
WHUMP!
A powerful force slammed into his side. He didn't even see it coming, just felt the brutal impact. His massive body, all two tons of it, went airborne. He crashed through the reinforced metal doors that led into the Sanctuary, the heavy doors crumpling like foil around him.
CRASH!
He landed hard on the grassy plains, rolling several times before skidding to a halt. Blades of grass, soft and fragrant, tickled his scales. He groaned, shaking his head. That little green blur had packed a punch.
The Zygarde 10% Forme stood at the now-wrecked threshold, its glowing eyes fixed on him. It had clearly moved their fight into the larger space to keep the storefront from getting more damaged. Well, two could play that game. Croc scrambled to his feet, a fresh surge of anger making his blood boil. Nobody pushed him around, especially not some glorified dog.
"You want a fight, huh?" Croc snarled, baring his sharp teeth. "Fine. Let's fight."
He braced himself, ready for whatever lightning-fast move the Pokémon might try next. Zygarde 10% simply watched, unmoving, its posture a silent, unwavering challenge. This was going to be an interesting day, Croc realized, and probably a painful one.
***
Give power stones to support this book.
Advance chapters in P@T0n Najicablitz.