The CELESTIC Team (PLOT)

Paris sincerely begins to doubt that the cloud of poisonous spores will bother the massive bird in the slightest. It was smaller than Cofa but somehow infinitely more terrifying.
For all its coffin-like appearance the ghost had managed to act normal enough to fool them. There was no doubting this black bird meant to see them all dead and only curiosity was providing a stay of execution.
Paris swallowed, still wreathing himself in the cloud of poison dust. At most his death might poison the thing but something about the cruel lilt of that beak and more importantly the blood red burn of its beady eyes discouraged that idea.
"Really? How odd-- he should have killed you by now,"
They were going to die.
They were all going to die here and no-one would care. Their lives depended on the goodwill of a pokemon that had no reason to have any.
Paris's breath comes out in a shuddering sigh.
His tongue suddenly seemed dry as if it had been coated in ashes. So this is what waiting to die felt like.
"Well, I suppose he's waiting for something. It would be rude to encroach on his hunt, so I'll just wait to see what he has in store for you..."
Despite his words the bird shows no sign of backing off and letting them free. Instead it seems eager.
Did it somehow know Cofagrigus? Paris wonders. It talks like the horrible ghost was a close friend or companion. Were all undead like this under the guise of mindless bloodlust? Did they meet up after a massacre and score each other on their kills?
Dear me, forgive my rudeness; what were your names? It's been so long since I've conversed with... living... that I completely forgot proper protocol. Embarrassing, really. Venonat, why don't you share your and your unfortunate friend's names first, since you seem so disinterested in the conversation?
Paris's claws tightly shut. No, the bird was smarter than he hoped. If he was going to die then so be it but he would not let it harm Juliet.
"After all, you'll likely just get yourself killed in there."
The damn bird is probably right. Whatever the living coffin's plan had been there was no way that house was safe now.
"Perhaps your...friend feels it would be rude to interrupt while you are talking to us?" Paris interjects.
Silently he prays he can distract the bird long enough for the others to escape. He was resigned to his fate. It wouldn't even take an infected Honchkrow to kill them, even if it hadn't been a bird with glowing red eyes and such an air of death it clung to each feather that was standing before them.
Please focus on me. Paris thinks and braces himself for the pain. It's the tiniest sliver of a hope but if he can rope the curious undead into conversation Mercutio might just be able to escape with Juliet before it is finished toying with him.
"My name is Paris by the way. Prince Paris, though the addition is a human fancy and of no real significance." He rears up and offers a polite bow, frantically gesturing behind his back for Mercutio to escape.
"May I inquire as to your name?"

The venonat still looking around pulling Juliet still in his small arms trying not to drag her around the liter on the ground. Getting to the Staircase and looking up, blocked and caved in on it's self. He froze for a second. Not from the simple fact it was indeed a trap, because the voice now redirecting at him. "Dear me, forgive my rudeness; what were your names? It's been so long since I've conversed with... living... that I completely forgot proper protocol. Embarrassing, really. Venonat, why don't you share your and your unfortunate friend's names first, since you seem so disinterested in the conversation?

Looking over now to the hole in the wall where the bird had pressed the paras into as well, his mandibles click then about to give a answer. Stopping again, turning about fourteen degrees back to hist left. A hole in the wall, where the human dug out or maybe the undead got in. A saving grace to get out, looking back to the bird then. About to try saying something again before Paris once again saved him. "Perhaps your...friend feels it would be rude to interrupt while you are talking to us?". Mercutio letting out a breath he held, pulling juliet now back over to the hole in the wall. "My name is Paris by the way. Prince Paris, though the addition is a human fancy and of no real significance." The last words the Venonat heard before, "Thank you sweet Prince, may we see each other on the other side".


Nothing between the two group but a large building, it was never going to be enough. No he needed more space between them and what ever it was, that black bird. Now wishing it was him standing there protecting Juliet from the threat not Paris. Looking down at the sweet angel still out of it losing Romeo, he was still torn up about losing his one closet Friend to that thing. The thing he allowed to get that close to them, the thing that betrayed him. His antenna picking up something, "what now?". Pulling off to the side and carefully putting Juliet down and hiding where he puts her from simple view. " May Arceus protect you fallen angel, Juliet my Love" giving a little distance between them.

Mercutio started to laugh a little then with no apparent reason, It was funny now that he thought about it. He had stayed hidden this whole time living in a run down place like this for a while, never saw the Paras till now and his two close friends literally came from the sky. Now Romeo was dead, Juliet heartbroken and useless. Paris throwing his life away to some giant freaky bird. Laughing more, he was only in danger coming out to see his friends when he could be sitting back in his home enjoying his berries and watching the harsh moon dancing in the night sky. Looking up now to the sky, the moon wasn't out just yet. But something dark was there, tingling every single fur strand right to the roots.

Mercutio was going to die, but Juliet was safe.

"Perhaps your...friend feels it would be rude to interrupt while you are talking to us?" the small Paras inquires, piquing Honchkrow's attention. The black bird quirked his head slightly in thought as he rustled through his memory for the ghost. He hadn't much contact with dear Cofagrigus... he honestly didn't truly know. But he did remember he was one of the Harbingers that had managed to cling to their mind rather than toss it for more power, like Hydreigon or Tyranitar. Perhaps the little insect was correct. Astounding that even in the face of his own death, such a little insignificant speck could even manage words, much less offer an actual thought to a decent conversation. Honchkrow's glowing crimson eyes returned to the mushroom bug, his expression pleasant. "You might be right," he purred, soaking in every tremble, every shudder from the brave, brave paras. He could stand and watch the little courageous poppet for days.

"My name is Paris by the way. Prince Paris, though the addition is a human fancy and of no real significance." Prince Paris reared up on his back legs -a feat Honchkrow hadn't even thought possible for a creature such as he- and offered a kind bow; a façade to quietly signal the venonat and... lady friend to scurry away. Honchkrow couldn't help a soft, gentle, dangerous chuckle-- perhaps if dear Prince Paris and he were of equal standing, Honchkrow wouldn't have seen the gesture. But alas... As the Venonat moved away from sight, the black bird's crimson gaze kept upon him and his unconscious passenger. How adorable. Even now, with two Harbingers breathing down upon them, they sought a miracle for survival. "May I inquire as to your name?" the Princeling asked, drawing Honchkrow's attention back to him.

"Why, of course you may," Honchkrow replied in a enthusiastic chortle, returning Paris' bow. "I wasn't aware I was among royalty, Your Highness. I, dear Prince, am only known as Honchkrow. Should be rather easy for your busy royal mind to remember, yes?" He chuckled again as he erected from his bow, much louder this time. It was just too hilarious. "Though, if Your Majesty minds, I do have to wonder..." He opened his wings, and, in a single flap, perched himself pretty upon the lowest peak of the house they were adjacent, "...is it really that fantastic of an idea for you and your friends to split up? It might be pompous of me, but I am a sort of expert on the subject-- it's been my experience that particular course of action only gets you and your friends killed quicker. After all, safety in numbers, yes?" He clicked his tongue, shaking his head slightly. "I thought a royal would know better, Majesty."

[[I am unsure whether Venonat is out of sight, but judging from the ending of his post, I am simply going to assume he is. If I need to change anything, please PM me.]]

The scenery swirled below him, a living creature of mist breathing and thickening. Above it, the sky gradually darkened with the falling of twilight on it's way, a few stars already dancing among the sky as they fought to shine for the night. A mere speck against the sky, a lone creature flew across the fading light; he moved faster than should have been possible, more of a shooting star than a bird. As he shot closer to the town, in the distance he saw something else flying away from the ruins. They moved almost as fast as he, enough to peak his interest if he were not already heavily distracted by the pulsing in the many corridors of his mind. As it were, the Xatu visibly flinched, seeming to recoil from a bad stench as his face contorted. The visions behind his eyes were unforgiving, but as enigmatic as ever. An Altaria. Humans. Cages. Sorrow, then rage.

What is this sorrow?! Who is this Altaria?! After another flash of the dual type smiling, Xatu realised she was female. But why, why was she so happy? Something inside of him bucked, rebelling against the vision, as the avian arched his back as if he were to retch. Need... land, he panted silently. Xatu turned sharply, borderline delirious as he approached the small town shrouded in mist. Growing closer to the ground, the cyan psychic glow around his body abruptly vanished. Without warning, the Harbinger stumbled, half falling the last few feet before landing on his claws. Keeping the haunched over demeanor, Xatu slowly looked around him with his eerily human eyes. It was a decayed town. Celestic, if his memory served him correct. Straightening with disgust, the avian frowned. What good did he had ending up back here?

The earlier barrage of images in his mind had passed for the time being and the Harbinger was left in a foul mood. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped forward slowly. Maybe there would at least be something to amuse him in the meantime. Xatu moved silently, his mind clearing enough to allow his predator instinct to push forward. After a few minutes, he heard voices. But the Harbinger recognised one of them. That calm drawl... -Honchkrow. Deep rooted hatred suddenly boiled up. No one had even seen the damn crow for years. What in hell's name was he doing here?

Stiff with the ugly, dark emotions making chaos once more of the Harbinger's mind, Xatu moved forward with stiff movements. His shoulders thrust forward, head held low, unwavering eyes facing forward; something had snapped in the Harbinger. He would find out what was going on. He would get his word in. As he rounded a corner, there were a pair of Pokemon, one passed out cold, the other snapping around to stare at him the moment he came to view. Xatu walked in their direction, keeping the gaunted look, but the Venonat spoke. It did something. Xatu was not paying attention. Moving even closer still to the pair as he looked to move past them, the Venonat did...something. Xatu's mind was too foggy. It did something. It would not leave him in peace.

Without warning, one wing flashed out, smashing into the Venonat's body as the Harbinger walked past them. Without so much as a sparing glance, the nat's body smacked into the hardened wood with a dull thump. Blood pooled beneath his unmoving body, staining his companion, as Xatu rounded the corner and left them. His mind was working against him. Colours faded, lights too bright. Things were not as they should be. But when he passed the corner, he saw just who he had never expected to show their face again. "...Honchkrow.."

Images swam through Juliet's mind. She was in no hurry to wake up.

Wandering through the hallways of the Contest hall, she tried to find that red bug who had caught her eye. He had been torn away from her so quickly, but she knew that she had to speak to him. She couldn't get the thought of him out of her mind, so she had escaped from her trainers in an attempt to find him. She had never been alone like this before. Where was he? Hurriedly, she turned the corner, stumbling into a painfully bright light.

There he was. His back was towards her, but despite the harsh light she could see him clearly. Romeo!" She tried to call out to him, but found she had no voice. Running towards him instead, she put one hand on his shoulder and whipped him around.

His eyes were missing.

The shock woke Juliet. Disoriented, she tried to move her head, but to no avail. How long had she been unconscious? Days? Years? Or worse, minutes? Seconds? Slowly, the image of Romeo full of holes came back to her, making her retch. She could feel herself moving, but her eyes refused to focus. Before long, the movement stopped, and she could feel herself being lowered to the ground. Someone had been carrying her. Someone had rescued her. Tears began to form in her eyes, as she remembered how no one had been able to save Romeo.

"Oh Romeo..." She whispered, her voice dry and soft. "Where are you, Romeo?"

Juliet was unsure whether she truly wanted to know the answer to that question.

Keep it talking...The life of his lady was staked on how long he could keep this feathered reaper distracted. Oh cruelest of ironies that he was lucky in this regard. The night-feathered bird still wished to talk.
"I wasn't aware I was among royalty, Your Highness. I, dear Prince, am only known as Honchkrow. Should be rather easy for your busy royal mind to remember, yes?" The bird chuckles as it completes a low bow of considerable grace for a thing long dead.
The title seems to turn to ashes on the birds pointed tongue. Not too long ago Paris had been proud of that title; the testament of generations of careful breeding. Now it was obviously nothing more than a human whimsy. If he really was a prince he would not be here, facing certain death for a pokemon he had just met and the love of his life who had said barely a word to him. Perhaps sensing his thoughts of inadequacy the bird's bubbling laughter grows louder.
"Though, if Your Majesty minds, I do have to wonder..." With a lazy flick of its wings it flaps up to a higher perch on the nearby house. is it really that fantastic of an idea for you and your friends to split up? It might be pompous of me, but I am a sort of expert on the subject-- it's been my experience that particular course of action only gets you and your friends killed quicker. After all, safety in numbers, yes?
With a condescending shake of its head it clicks its tongue disapprovingly.
"I thought a royal would know better, Majesty."
"Broadly you would be correct Honchkrow." The little bug type says carefully. It is a fine line he walks, trying to provided enough conversation to keep the bird's interest without angering it.
"But we are little insects. Clustering together only has advantage if we can defeat the foe does it not? Otherwise it simply allows some greater predator to swallow us up in one gulp. Do you honestly feel one such as yourself would be deterred if we stood united against you, weary and frightened as we are?" He waves a claw at his small insect body.
""It may not be honorable but it is our nature to fight no unnecessary battles."

"Broadly you would be correct Honchkrow," the terrified little bug began. Honchkrow enjoyed watching the little prince attempt to keep his composure beneath his stare; it was something he had come to miss now that his children had effectively wiped out most of the population. The crow quirked his head in surprisingly genuine interest, though, at the paras' steady rebuttal."But we are little insects. Clustering together only has advantage if we can defeat the foe does it not? Otherwise it simply allows some greater predator to swallow us up in one gulp. Do you honestly feel one such as yourself would be deterred if we stood united against you, weary and frightened as we are?" Honchkrow couldn't help but to allow a small chuckle escape him; he had been so used to bravado, hubris and outright stupidity from others attempting to keep their lives from him for so long, it was almost refreshing to see honest-to-Legends cowardice.

"It may not be honorable but it is our nature to fight no unnecessary battles."

Another low, smooth laugh escaped him; what a charming little prawn he'd stumbled across! "While I find it absolutely charming that you have no delusions about your own or your friends' powers to defend, I still find it a bit of conundrum that you seek to protect them, even now." He flexed his wings, keeping his balance as he readjusted his grip on his perch. "How can anyone protect anything when they're a self-proclaimed coward? The whole point of being a coward, dear Prince, is to save your own hide at the cost of everyone else's. So in a way, you are arrogant enough to think that this small lovely stall is enough to save at least one of them. Or... perhaps...?" His gaze narrowed and his beak seemed to curl into a malicious, terrifying grin.

"...by sending them away, my Prince, you've cast them into my colleague's territory. And while I have no particular interest in killing any of you, I can assure you my colleague likely does not share my merciful nature. So..." He opened his wings and dropped gracefully back down in front of Paris, towering over the mushroom-burdened creature, grin still firmly in place. "...either you are conceited enough to think your martyrdom can actually mean anything and that you lied to me earlier with your pretty words, or you truly are what you claim and you sent all your pals away to take the safest spot for yourself." He chuckled, still staring down with his glowing crimson glare.

"So which is it, Prince? Are you a pompous ass... or a true coward?"

Leaving the paras to his decision for a moment, Honchkrow backed away a few strides, allowing himself a turn of the town. However, he stopped cold in his tracks as he finally spotted the entire reason he'd landed in the first place; there, in the mist and fog, stood one of his own. One of his children. Xatu.

He hadn't heard his name spoken, for his own loquaciousness had overpowered the force of Xatu's soft voiced recognition. Honchkrow, oblivious to any subtleties Xatu exuded. strode forward in a grand display, welcoming his psychic compatriot with opened wings. "Xatu! How long it's been, my dear Harbinger," he crooned, candidly relieved to finally lay eyes on one of his rare and elusive Harbingers. "You would not believe how difficult it is to track your siblings."

The pulsing in his head suddenly returned without warning, a dangerous pulsing vein deep within the Harbinger's dead brain. Stumbling, his claws left grooves in the dirt as the avian fought to keep himself standing. Hearing a voice, not the familiar one of the oily feathered Honchkrow, but another. Someone else was talking. Something had interrupted him. Another violent spasm wracked through his mind and Xatu let out a hiss through his beak, screwing his eyes shut against the mental onslaught. What is this...?! There is... no warning?! Why... what is wrong with me?!

"It may not be honorable but it is our nature to fight no unnecessary battles."

The voice cut through his mental screaming, ripping apart his thoughts, but even as the Paras spoke the Harbinger was fighting the stream of things he could not explain. Suddenly the same image of the female Altaria ran through him, seared into his eyes. The Harbinger groaned with the effort to keep standing, the psychic's mind taking over his body as the two parts of him waged a war inside. Then he saw a trio of children, Swablu chicks, hopping around. They stared up at him with loving eyes before the scene changed.

"So which is it, Prince? Are you a pompous ass... or a true coward?"

Honchkrow's voice once more cut through his mind as the scene rapidly switched to that of blood, the chicks screaming in agony as they were shot, crushed beneath hunters' boots, and rare cotton feathers ripped off. Their bodies left as nothing but bloody, mangled corpses, Xatu heard a scream build through him, but it was one from the vision. The Altaria was suddenly at his feet as well, the once beautiful dragoness pillaged worse than the children. She lay dead before him as humans suddenly swarmed the Xatu.

The Paras noticed him first in reality, the small bug realising too late he was doomed as the Harbinger's crimson eyes were circles with madness. In a last ditch effort, the small mushroom creature resorted to it's usual defense mechanism, a flurry of spores surrounding it's body in the cool night air. But Xatu's eyes flickered from the growing cloud to the bug, his body reacting before his shattering mind could. Dipping his head, he spotted something rare, several meters from them: matches. Lifting his beak again, he met the terrified eyes of the Paras, whom had never even been able to reply to the Lord of the Dead's inquiry, and with a flick of his wing, a single small stick flew through the air to before the Harbinger. Without breaking eye contact, Xatu's eyes flashed again, a fire spouting from the top of the match as if magic. By then, the Paras knew where it was going, and the weak creature dropped to ll fours, scrambling to flee, but Xatu sent the spark towards it with no pace. The bug's screams were feral and primal as they ripped through the air, but the Harbinger did not flinch. His eyes turned to Honchkrow as the black crow seemed to have finally realised his kin was there.

In the mere seconds it took Honchkrow to bound forward joyfully, the spores of the mushroom's caught and fed the growing inferno with blinding speed. In a matter of seconds, the fire died out, leaving a charred exoskeleton.

"Xatu!"
Flinching at the loud, joyous use of his name, the Harbinger's eyes went blank. Devoid of anger or pain, the thought that came to his mind was foreign: Is that truly my name?

"How long it's been..."
The larger bird's words were slurred, moving as molasses through the psychic's mind. Breaking the eye contact, Xatu ducked his head suddenly, flaring his wings out as he stumbled again. This pressure....?! His eyes screwed shut, causing the Harbinger to clench his beak in an effort not to scream.

"My dear Harbinger."
Every new word Honchkrow said grew into needles, fiery stabbing knives in Xatu's head. His mind trying to warn him, tell him, but the crossfire would not cease enough to stop the agony.

"You would not believe..."
Xatu fell to his knees, covering his ears with his wings. The sound inside of his ears was growing, the ringing a violent roaring deep within the confines of his head.

"How difficult it is to track... "
MAKE IT STOP-

"Your siblings."
SHUT UP-

Flaring his wings open, psychic waves flashed from the Harbinger's wings. Nullified by Honckhrow's natural resistance, the powerful waves instead ripped through the remainder of the town. Buildings groaned and screamed as they suddenly fell, smashing to the ground in splintered ruins. Any Pokemon foolish enough to be nearby would be crushed beneath, nothing but smears of blood.

...
.............then all at once... silence.

Xatu's eyes snapped open, clarity running through him like ice in his once alive veins. Panting, the Harbinger slowly pushed himself to his feet, dragging his wing tips on the ground. "No." The single, short word was abrupt, but strong. Rising his eyes, there was a fire within them as he stared at the one he once worshiped. "No, Honchkrow. I am not one of your pets. I refuse to listen to you any more- you call yourself our master, but you have abandoned us. You have left us to rot. We are your Harbingers, but you treat us like children. You're not my father, you don't deserve to by my master," he sneered. "I've outgrown you."

"I remember. I can see flashes of before. We weren't always like this before. We never had a choice- no one ever gave us a chance."

"But I don't have to be like you. I don't have to be a dead God watching the world burn-- I have seen beauty, I had it. Once upon a time I was a normal, just Pokemon."

"I have a choice," Xatu hissed, unwavering eyes not leaving the shocked orbs of Honchkrow's own. Without warning, Xatu's entire body suddenly glowed maroon, his eyes balls of light as he pulled upon the oldest and most powerful technique of his species. Slashing his wings through the air, the scrawny avian shot forward, vanishing into a shining cut through space and time. For several seconds he floated aimlessly through the Not Here, before ripping another hole in reality.

Shooting through the second hole, he found himself above Celestic. Glancing down, Xatu could see the still whole group of bugs, even watch Honchkrow making his way to greet them, and as his head snapped up, in the distance, he could see the shape of him from ten minutes ago. Taking a deep breathe, the time traveler retreated, his next destination unknown to even him.

I have renounced Honchkrow. Only time will tell if that brings me true death or not... Glancing back one last time, he shot away, fleeing through time itself.

All that matters is undoing what he has wrought upon the world...

In the fog, Honchkrow had not seen his Harbinger flinch or wince; the thick cloak served its purpose to hide his Harbinger's pain. But as he strode forward to greet his child, the bird stood rigid and in a flash, a massive psychic attack erupted from Xatu. The buildings nearby that desperately clung to rickety foundations and walls were demolished. The small insects that had been so careful were all torn and shredded with the exception of the little Paras, whose burnt corpse had been spared; he had been deposited behind Honchkrow's generous wingspan. Honchkrow himself stood easily against it, as no psychic attack could ever hope to touch him, but he stopped all the same; no Harbinger had ever attempted him harm. Frozen, alarmed, he watched carefully as Xatu regained his composure.

"No." Xatu's eyes snapped open and met Honchkrow's own shocked gaze, an icy fire to them. The Father Harbinger knew that look, however-- that familiar expression that now possessed his child, his worshipper.

Defiance.

"No, Honchkrow. I am not one of your pets. I refuse to listen to you any more- you call yourself our master, but you have abandoned us. You have left us to rot. We are your Harbingers, but you treat us like children. You're not my father, you don't deserve to by my master," Xatu sneered hatefully. Honchkrow, in a rare moment of silence, only stood to listen to his traitorous son's childish tantrum, his wings now folded. "I've outgrown you."

"Watch your tongue, Boy, I might take it..." Honchkrow warned in a low, uncharacteristic growl, but Xatu was not deterred.

"I remember. I can see flashes of before. We weren't always like this before. We never had a choice- no one ever gave us a chance.

"But I don't have to be like you. I don't have to be a dead God watching the world burn-- I have seen beauty, I had it. Once upon a time I was a normal, just Pokemon.

"I have a choice," Xatu ended, the two birds glaring at each other with such fury, such rage, it was enough to cause the fog around them to dissipate. Xatu immediately glowed a deep maroon, but Honchkrow made no move to stop him. This was not an attack. Even if it was, nothing Xatu had in his reservoir of attacks would even hope to harm Honchkrow. No. This was different. With cold, hateful calculation, Honchkrow merely watched in silent wrath as Xatu sliced the very fabric of time and space and disappeared within.

And like that, his Harbinger had left him.

The coward...

The despicable... COWARD...

His feathers ruffled, he turned to the only thing nearby, Paris' charred exoskeleton. "How fitting, isn't it dear Prince, that we were just on the subject of cowardice?" Honchkrow growled, the playfulness in his tone effectively gone from his normally coy voice. He took a few steps forward, better examining the damage wrought by Xatu's tantrum. "The selfish little git you just met was one of my finer Harbingers. One of my best. But now, he wants to renounce that title. That gift. His immortality-- why? What for, his memories?" He began pacing, the clouds above churning and fermenting into a poisonous purple. Thunder rumbled and snarled, but Honchkrow paid it no mind; he was occupied on something far more important than the weather.

Xatu's words echoed in his mind, mocking him. Taunting him. He was accused of abandoning them-- he was trying to locate them. They were so scattered... It took so long just to find Xatu. How could he have known there was so much discourse...? How could he have known? Were there other Harbingers on the brink of treason? Honchkrow dismissed the thought, but the fear had already rooted itself deep within his mind. He was losing his control; it seemed he had been for quite some time now. And that wasn't tolerable. This treachery, this rebellion needed to be silenced as soon as possible. Glaring up at the darkened sky, his Shadow Sky, his sharp mind raced for a solution, any solution to the mess he'd stumbled across. The thunder rumbled again, as if suggesting its own opinion, when an idea dawned upon him.

A grin pulled at his face, his demeanor simmering back down to something a little more civilized. He wouldn't throw a tantrum like his son. No, he was far more mature than that. "Dear Prince, did you hear what he said?" he chortled dangerously, his voice still low with the cold wrath his Xatu had incurred. "He'd outgrown me. And yet he preaches of old memories, of beauty and choices. Of life. The festering little hypocrite doesn't even realize all his hopes and dreams are that of children!" He barked a hateful laugh, to which the thunder above echoed solemnly.

He turned, nearly prancing back to Paris' already crumbling corpse. "He has a 'choice', Prince. Did you hear that? HA! What does he honestly think he will accomplish? His body has already perished; he's beyond any saving, even if there were a cure to administer. To what hope is he clinging? That maybe he can regain his old life back? Preposterous! We are dead, all of us. We as a whole are naught but shadows and dust, Paris, and yet here we are. We Harbingers were given something more tangible of an existence-- to never crumble away like our lesser brethren. To reign immortal over this world, to claim it as ours, and he wants to crawl back to the useless rotting meatsack he once was!" Honchkrow's hate burned, but only a wrathful chuckled emerged.

"He forgets so much. I did not force him into this role. His capturer is responsible for that. I did not rip him from his apparently ambrosial life. Humans did that. Humans injected him and poisoned him and wrought all that horror upon him-- NOT I. I freed him. I murdered our captors and FREED him and his siblings. I guided them out, I led them and unleashed them upon the world to take back what we had lost. And yet he blames me for what the humans had committed? Stupid, forgetful boy!"

He opened his wings as he still glared upward at his completed Shadow Sky, which began to weep its dark rain. A power built around his wings which he held steady, even as it built more and more. "He said he had a choice, dear Prince. And he's very correct. He does certainly have a choice, and it seems he's already made it. Well, what sort of leader would I be if I were to simply ignore him? I will respect his choice, and he will respect the consequences of that choice. He chooses to deny me and renounce his title as Harbinger, renounce who and what he is, well... I'll be more than happy to take that title back." With the power brimming around his body, he flapped hard, unleashing it upon the town. Twin twisters erupted from the sky, the funnels already snaking their way downward. Honchkrow easily took wing with their force, sailing up and over the complete annihilation of Celestic Town. His Shadow Storm attack was merciless, obliterating nearly all evidence that a town -much less pokemon- had even been there; only a few scattered beams from the houses and the cave remained.

He soared, pleased, over the destruction. Xatu may have denied him, but he would not be so heartless for Xatu. If Xatu didn't want to hold onto his gift, Honchkrow would relieve him of it, along with everything else that belonged to him. Resolute and confident, Honchkrow soared toward the set sun, his moon illuminating the way. He would find Xatu. And he would destroy him.