Hands of Fate-Chapter 23
It is truly astounding what one can accomplish in just one month.
Countless Pokémon were freed. Countless more people were exiled, if not executed. Every Pokémon Center in Unova was permanently closed and eventually torn down, along with everything and anything else even vaguely related to Pokémon, including the town where the creator of the Pokédex resided. To this day, the fires that destroyed that small southern town still burn.
Similar to the white-hot flames that burned down the once thriving forest of doubt within the heart of Unova's new King, replacing it with a dead, barren wasteland that consumed his entire being.
N calmly sat on his thrown, his chin resting on his right palm and his head turned to the side. His body was clad in a royal red cape, his golden crown shining upon his head of long green hair. Behind him stood the black dragon of ideals, his gaze resting on his hero's audience. "How are the knights in the raids on Castelia faring?" N