My name is Clay.

There are a few things that a fella should know about me.

First, I'm a self made man. My family drifted around after the mine in Iron island dried up, and we eventually found ourselves far from home. As a young man I traveled north, eventually reaching a dingy little port near a mountain. I built myself, and that dingy little port, up after that. Now that dingy port is called Driftveil City, and me the Underground Boss, the King of the Mines.

Second, I'm a Whig. If you don't know what that is, that's fine, just don't bother me. If you do, if your not a Whig don't give me pamphlets.

Third, I like recycling. Why shouldn't I: it saves money, makes money, and minimized the amount of protesters who bother me.

It also is a fine example of community service.

There once was a mathematician named Malthus Shudo, who once calculated the math on trainers.

For every thousand boys and girls who left home, eight hundred failed to reach their goal. Clay was aware the math was meant with just trainers in mind, but he had heard some similar talk about coordinators.

Those two hundred or so people made up the league and contest circuits, seeing as it was rather rare they had to seek out more ribbons or badges to get back in after it all. They made good money doing that even without a fancy trophy or three, and many trainers and coordinators did so until they decided to retire.

It was the eight hundred others that were of interest to Clay outside his gym: The ones who Shudo had described as 'future incompetents'.

A tad harsh in Clay's opinion. They could be remade into perfectly functional members of society, even if just janitors.

After all, many didn't fail because of a lack of talent.

"So kid, heard you're pretty clever."

The poor kid was lying on a bed, bandages covering his eyes. Pity really, he liked to look a fella in the eye when he negotiated, plus he had worn his fancy hat today.

The kid sadly didn't a chance to be inspired by his marvelous hat, and breathed out a sad response.

"What's it matter, how smart I am? My eyes are ruined."

"Hardly kid, they'll just only working at 33% efficiency. Lucky that Youngblood's Disease is cureable."

"That's not what I have," the kid muttered.

"Well, regardless of your Lou Gehrig's Disease (not that either, that's a muscular disease), I must say I'm pretty impressed kid. I read your test scores, 94% percentile in math, 96% in science. Only 85% in Unovan, but we already got enough Orators in the world. You even got four badges, including two that are actually worth a damn. Brycen and the bird chick are hardly pushovers, even if they dress funnily."

The kid almost looked ready to laugh at that comment, or at the idea of him saying others dressed funny. Clay didn't really know which.

"'Course, even if I get the surgeries, Its not like I'm going to be fit for traveling on my own. My eyes will never be 100% ever again..."

"Don't you get all mopey on yourself!" Stomping his foot, Clay gestured to the side of the kid's bed, where six Pokeballs lay. "Don't ya think they won't mind if you can't walk straight, they'll your partners damn it!"

"Liepard and the others... they deserve more than me. I said we'd get to the league, that we'd prove them wrong, that the 'damn nerd' can actually make it."

Clay growled, the angst of the kid now getting to him. He could give a man slack for crying if a rock impaled his leg, but he had limits. The same could be said for eye traumas.

"Look here kid: I won't sugarcoat things and say things will be lollipops and rainbows for ya. It'll take you a while to get used to your eyes when you get out of here after your eyes get poked at. However, it ain't the end of the world. The League won't go anywhere next year, or three years from now. Plus, you've got everything you need to make it there right here: you just need a way to keep yourself afloat in the meantime."

"When you're discharged, come to the Clay Arena. I have something in mind for you there while you get back on your feet. Pays good, though I hope you like scaring off Pidove and working payroll numbers." turning around, Clay felt his lip twitch up as he felt the kid shift in his bed.

"But I don't have the money for surgery..."

Chuckling, Clay stopped for a moment.

"I'm investing a bit in you kid, just remember that when you're out of here. I don't expect you to work for me forever, but I'd like to see some returns someday. We'll talk later"

With his words, Clay saw himself out of the St. Nunnally Blindness Ward of Yakon Memorial.

"Hey Andrew, you got any of that Alolan food from Friday left in stock? I rather liked that those Macadamias. Seein' as this place is empty, might as well make the trip here worth it"

The bald dark skinned bartender, who was absently rubbing a glass clean with his back to the gym leader, shook his head without even turning around.

"Clay, those are nuts. You're thinking of Malasada, and no I don't have any left. That was a one time thing here at the Dicey Cafe."

"Garrr! I hate one time deals!" Clay growled as Andrew the bartender chuckled to himself.

"Sorry Clay, but that's just how the cookie crumbles. Not enough people here import Alolan foodstuff for it to be a regular thing: it's all Poffins and Pokepuffs."

"...Can you at least give me the recipe. I ain't no gourmet but I can work a knife and stove."

The bartender put his glass down before reaching for a notepad and a pen to oblige, as the doors to the nice looking but empty bar were thrown open, as a new face entered the place.

The new visitor was male with pink hair: a duller pink more akin to an Audino than a Deerling, with thick eyebrows of the same color, and eyes of a dark pink, with a red headband covering his forehead. He was wearing a green tang top that exposed muscular arms, the left having a traditional heart tatooed on it and the right having a crown impaled with a sword in the same spot. His jeans were held in place by a belt with several Pokeballs on it.

The man took a seat next to Clay, looking at Andrew with a serious look.

"Can I help you?"

"Milk," the man simply stated.

"Milk?" Clay repeated the request.

"Yes, that's what I said: Milk."

"Isn't that a code for something at that dive bar near the port: Bootleg I think it was called." Clay was meaning to look into that at some point.

"No, just Milk," the pink-haired man repeated as Andrew went for the fridge.

"You know it's imported right? Until that recalled herbicide is fully washed out of the system we can't use native milk and have to import it. You could, for the same price, get two shots of..." Andrew noted to the man who may not be aware of the recent milk hikes.

The man's level stare spoke words, and thus a cold glass of milk was in front of the muscled man, who promptly drained it in one gulp.

"You're new around these parts, what brings ya?" Clay asked the newcomer after a moment as the man reached into his pockets and pulled out a wallet.

He was silent for a moment, so Clay continued.

"If you're here for a gym battle, and I reckon you must be given your Pokéballs and the fact you look like you could steal from a Gurdurr's grip, then you've found the gym leader right here, and I can take ya on after ya pay. That is, if ya think you can beat Clay, the King of the Mines."

He froze as he began to pull out a bill, his gaze slowly turning towards Clay like a Liepard who had just heard a struggling Pidove.

"You call yourself King?"

Clay was silent for a moment, unsure what was going through this guy's mind right now.

"Ya I call myself that," Clay eventually replied, "I earned the title."

The man slammed the money next to the glass, before standing and glaring at Clay.

"I'm Pan, the man who seeks out the King. I have no interest in badges: I want what you know. You will answer me."

"Oh, is that right!?" Standing up himself, Clay was now pointing his pick-axe at the muscular pinkette. "You want something from me then? Well fine then, I'll deal with you. Right here, right now!"

As both reached for their Pokéballs, battle was imminent...

"Not in my bar you won't, take it in my back lot!"

...Battle was nearly imminent, and would begin as soon as the two were outside

...

It was a rare person who would dare waggle her finger at him.

There were only two in fact in the entire world: His mother, and the local nurse joy.

As his mother was dead, that left only the local Nurse Joy to be the one waggling her finger at him.

Well, him and Pan the grouchy pink-haired man anyway. Being a fellow pinkette did not protect him from the anger of Joy.

"I don't know what you two were arguing about to get into that fight of yours, but I don't want it happening again. I don't want to have to heal dispute fight casualties during the sport off season. I can only handle so much guy nonsense a year, and this isn't just their off-season, but my off-season!"

"Football wasn't involved," Pan grumbled as Nurse Joy leveled a look at him.

"Football, hockey, checkers, I couldn't care less what you were fighting about: just don't do it again." With that she turned around and went back into the healing chambers.

Pan turned to him, looking like someone who had just waited for an hour in line for corn, only to find out it was the celery line.

"Well, that was a waste of time."

Clay glared back at the man.

"You started it, so I didn' waste your time: you wasted mine!"

Pan rolled his eyes.

"No, you aren't the one I was looking for. You aren't the king."

"What, did ya think I was a 'king' king?" Clay looked at the man with exasperation, "What, did you think I'm the long lost king of Alola? Do I look like I spoil Meowth for a livin'?"

Pan didn't respond.

"...You ain't that bright, are ya?" Clay snarked. Pan glared at him before cracking his knuckles. Clay reached into his jacket for his trusty pick-axe...

"No fighting!"

An hour later Clay was skulking down the streets, kicking a can.

"Damnation! Pinkettes yellin' at me, attackin' me, thinkin' me some crazy king person, confiscatin' my pick-axe..." he mumbled to himself, a sudden desire to punch something pink growing inside him.

Someone better be trying to challenge his gym with an Audino right about now.

Stabbing his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, he rapidly dialed it and growled the moment the other line connected.

"Oi Felix! Tell me someone's at the gym with somethin' pink!"

"Pink? Sorry sir, but we don't have anyone like that here at the moment. While you were out a kid named Dino did try and fight us with a Swadloon and Vullaby. I beat him."

"...Pity, I was hopin' something I could let my anger out on would be waiting for me." With that Clay hung up on Felix and felt the need to hit something.

"...Maybe it's time I try out that fitness voucher... places like that always have punching bags." Clay dug around his pockets for that thing, willing to see if that would help improve his mode.

The approach of wheels and the blaring of police sirens behind him made him stop.

"Oh come on!" Clay complained as a police cycle and side car stopped besided him, the Officer looking at him urgently.

"Oh good, I've found you. I need you to come with me."

"Am I under arrest?" Clay deadpanned, wondering if that was going to be his day.

"No. I'm responding to a call from a group of trade agents at the docks. Apparently a Pokemon Transport Ship bound for Orre ran into some bad numbers. When they tried to talk to the crew about it a fight broke up, and they've requested backup. We could use your help trying to get things under control."

"Troublemakers huh..." Well that was nice: he could finally hit something if they weren't the talkin' type.

"Well give me a minute to fit in that tiny side-car of yours and I'll be happy ta help."

...

An uncomfortable squeeze and a race through town found Clay at the scene of the scuffle.

A large black and white ship: a Libra class transport he believed, was currently the center of a all out firefight.

Rather literally, given that on the ship a mob of armored wierdos (Blue, Purple, and White, with scarves?) were blasting flamethrowers down at them with foreign Pokémon: stubby camel things, bubbly sluggy things, and black doggy things.

Numel, Slugma, and Houndour... he thought that was what they were called. Could be wrong though.

Several police officers were pinned down behind crates: occasionally firing Shadow Balls and Thunderbolts at them with their Herdiers, but the blasts weren't having much effect.

Clay turned to the Jenny he had rode in on with a frown.

"Hey, don' you have somethin' else? Don' 'cha use Swanna or soemthin'?"

"Normally yes, but our Swanna are currently in rotation at the breeding facilities or are the emergence Fire Swanna."

Clay felt a 'ain't this a fire emergency' coming on, but he held it back for now.

"Alright listen here... I'll be handlin' things from here on in!" Throwing out his Seismitoad and Excadrill, Clay pointed right at the oddly dressed weirdos.

"Alright Seismitoad and Excadrill: time for a Fastball Special!"

"A what?" Jenny frowned as Seismitoad grinned wildly and Excadrill looked resigned to its fate.

Walking along the oceanside path, Pan took a deep breath in frustration.

Another lead, another bust. The Bloodline King was still as elusive as ever, and this was his second time looking through Unova. Johto and Sinnoh hadn't gotten him anything but a fondness for good milk and a dislike for lakes.

Sinnoh had too many lakes, and half the time he ended up at one whenever he got lost.

However, it wasn't a complete loss. His most recent lead in the Decolore Islands could still be followed from here, and if that failed that would lead him to Kanto.

Many strange events had been happening there recently: strange Pokemon behavior in Gringy City, a odd storm off the coast of Kanto that appeared and vanished with no explanation, and a surge of trainers who had been born to the modern Bloodliner Age doing remarkably well for rookies.

It couldn't be a coincidence: the Bloodline King was at play there. He would find him, and kill him.

He would save her...

A distant glittering caught in the corner of his eyes, catching his attention to the port, where what looked like an Excadrill was flying through the air, using Drill Run.

Said Drill Run impacted into the side of the ship with a loud screech of metal, before the sound of battle ensued with flames, lightning, and the sounds of rallying policemen.

Shaking his head, Pan kept walking. He didn't want to know, he didn't want to know, he didn't...

Cold. Empty. Hate. Anger. Void.

Pan froze in his tracts, a shiver running down his back like Beartic drool.

He felt something...wrong. Something unnatural, unsettling, unpleasant. An utter wrongness in the world.

And it was coming from the ship that the Excadrill had been launched at.

"Move it!"

"Move what?"

"The thing! Whatever it that you call the thing that people get on ships from the shore from! The cops are gaining on us!"

"I can't, that freaky mole thing is blocking it!"

"Then go blast it!"

"Why don't you do it, you have the Quagsire!"

"Is that even going to work on it?!"

"The answer is yes, actually. A Quasire's just a dumber Seismitoad, so by type you'd actually be in the right ta fight my Excadrill," Clay told the oddly dressed armored twosome arguing below him as his Golurk descended from above and dropped both of them on the ship with a lurch, "but, I doubt ya have the strength ta do so! Or do you even want to try?"

Both of the armored fools ran for it, causing Clay to chuckle as he let out the rest of his Pokemon: Seismitoad, Krookodile, Stunfisk, and his second Krookodile.

"K, let's meet up with Excadrill and catch 'em all!" Clay rallied as they surged forth, striking at anyone in strange armor with non-Unovan Pokemon.

Their little rampage was fifteen minutes long, and the funnest 15 minutes Clay had had in ages. Nothin' beat wanton destruction in healthy doses.

They were eventually met up with Herdier partnered officers, Excadrill, and left a trail of bound and cuffed weirdos in their wake. Soon, only one thing was left.

The Bridge.

"Alright, this is the law speakin'! Open up!" Clay demanded as the door politely responded, revealing the leader of this odd bunch.

Surprisingly, it wasn't some odd guy dressed in armor like the rest of them: but some waif of a pinkette in scientist clothes. Despite looking young enough to be fawning over Elesa, she was looking at them with disdain.

"Oh, oh! You are so those troublemakers who blocked our departure so rudely! Oh, because of you the boss is going to be oh so angry with me! It's going to make everyone miserable, and it's so all your fault! But it's okay now. I just so needed to be serious just a little tiny bit to get us out of this dump of a region! It is so perfect now actually! Not only do I get to lift you mean roadblocks from my way, but I also get to do a serious field test! I'm so amazed because I am so a genius! I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner! Oh? You want to know what on earth I am talking about? You'll find out soon after all! Why? Because… I am so going to defeat you jerks! Right here, right now!"

"Beat us? Ha, your little grunts only had the high ground to help them hold out before! What makes you think you can stop us?" Clay laughed, wondering what on earth she was talking about, and why she had to say so much.

Seriously, the girl was long winded in her ranting.

Grinning, said pinkette held out a Pokeball in her hand: a ball with a number label in the center mechanism.

SD:0014

"I'll show you! Go, Delcatty!"

The ball burst open, revealing a thin, purple Pokemon that looked like someone was too fond of shaving their Liepard. The thing lunged right at one of the officers, looking ...off somehow.

"How cute; a pretty Pokemon for a pretty girl. Catch it Seismitoad!"

Stepping between the officer and the feline Seismitoad tensed like a receiver, ready to catch the ball in its tracks.

The Delcatty tackled Seismitoad, and the impact sent Seismitoad flying.

"Wha!?" Clay shouted as his most powerful special attacker, instead of blocking for a officer, was now poised to crush him instead.

"Return!" Clay used his Pokeball to return Seismitoad before he ended up with a flattened officer.

The girl chuckled loudly (and obnoxiously) before the Delcatty flicked it's head, as if firing something.

Seconds later, something struck the officer he had barely saved, and the Jenny he had rode in with.

Both were knocked to the ground, with burns. They were clutching the struck areas, their faces squinted in pain.

"So tell me Unovans, how do you like the future of battling? Tell me now...before it renders you into dust." The girl grinned wickedly, before the Delcatty lunged at the Krookodiles with unnatural ferocity.

...

Golurk burst through the ship with a single massive punch, his other hand holding Clay, Excadrill, and Stunfisk.

As his massive ground-type landed the passengers disembarked, before Clay clutched his chest and dropped to his knee.

Glaring down at his chest, where a large bruise from an attack he hadn't seen had formed, Clay was pretty sure he had a broken...

"Damnable!"

Or perhaps two broken ribs. Regardless, it hurt. A lot.

That Delcatty...was not normal.

It took out half his team...it took out the entire police force.

It wasn't using any move he could see, and it seemed to always be extremely effective.

Even with the typing not making any sort of sense for that, there was just something more wrong with it beyond that.

Its movements, its eyes...the Delcatty seemed like someone had forgot to put something crucial into it's very being.

Or had taken it out, but regardless the thing was more abnormal than the sugar-free sweeteners people peddled these days.

False sugar quickly gave way to legit sea salt in Clay's mind as he realized something wasn't right.

"What in the..."

The ship was no longer stuck in port, but was entering the open ocean, and land was leaving the sight of land.

Now quite isolated with a Delcatty-shaped abomination with no way to escape, given that Clay was not willing to bet that his Golurk could fly all of them off this ship before that Delcatty stopped trying to get him and decided to kill it's victims.

There was only one appropriate word.

"Crap." Clay declared loudly, as the sound of dispersed air heralded the arrival of something fast.

Ten seconds later Golurk let out a pained cry before collapsing, the Delcatty standing on the fallen part ghost with vacant looking, evil eyes.

"Oh, so sad. So pathetic. So, this is a gym leader huh?" A pair of thorny vines extended from the hull, hoisting up the pink haired woman along with a humanoid rose Pokemon: A Roserade he believed.

The girl stood quite close to the Delcatty, while Roserade notably side stepped away from the thing like it was leaking death. Clay would not be surprised if it was leaking death, evil, hatred, agony, cancer, taxes, and other such unpleasant things.

"You are so not living up to the hype," she noted as she returned the Roserade.

"And you are so annoying, Stunfisk Scald!" Clay taunted and stepped aside, as a stream of steaming water shot forth right at her.

"Delcatty..." the evil girl chimed. Said monster yowled, and once more the silent and unseen energy waves shot out.

One of them blocked Scald, the second flew and hit Stunfisk.

Clay did not need to see Stunfisk to know what a ref would say here.

"Cute...but so not going to work. Delcatty, deal with that last Pokemon of his, that Excelsior thing! Do leave it alive though: perhaps we can so recycle it into something good."

The beast charged forward, bounding across the ship in long bounds. The bounds were all about the same length, give or take a few inches here or there. But regardless, it would land...

As a result of their years of cooperation, Clay and Excadrill realized this at the same, and exactly what needed to be done in response.

Excadrill's claws glowed white with Brick Break's power, even as Delcatty briefly landed on the defeated Stunfisk and continued to charge at Excadrill.

"You want to see if hitting my Delcatty with a fighting attack would stop it? Sorry, but that is so not going to happen!" the girl boasted as Clay shook his head.

"I take it you never dug a mine before?"

The pink-haired one looked at Clay questionably. "And that is relevant, why?"

Delcatty had gotten within striking distance of Excadrill, ready to strike. However just as the final push was made, electricity surged across the cat's form, causing the beast to slow down.

Exacadrill then struck with Brick Break, sending the cat flying. The cat struck the girl, sending both flying off the ship into the waters below with a loud splash.

..

"...And that's that. 'Course, I'm glad that I'm not gonna be prosecuted for murder, but whatever that girl's Delcatty was I ain't want to see another one like it." Several weeks later Clay had just finished telling the story of that day.

He had experience doing so: to the police, to Nurse Joy who promptly waggled her finger at him again, to Andrew the bartender, to the poor sighted kid Tires and his Liepard (after telling him that yes, that Pidove who called me and you should catch it).

His listener nodded, though he looked troubled about the whole thing.

"The Police and the report Nurse Joy gave for the injuries the Pokemon suffered show that you were more than justified in using such force. I'll admit if this was closer to the Reaper Incident, you'd probably be looked at more critically, but for now you will suffer no consequences beyond what you inflict upon yourself."

"I ain't going to start pushing girls who need to gain a few pounds into the ocean for a hobby Alder, ya don't have ta worry 'bout that," Clay quipped as the champion did not laugh back.

"Still, the sort of Pokémon that Delcatty was...I admit it is quite troubling. Are there more like it out there? I can only pray for any others like it, and that no other Pokémon are affected. Though your story of that day has more troubling parts to it than you may think."

"What, I missed somethin' nasty between the Delcatty and the fact in the last few weeks 3 nuns have asked if I need to confess?" Clay snarked as Alder nodded.

"Pan," Alder stated simply as Clay looked at Alder in confusion.

"What about the milk drinking weirdo?"

"I've met the man in my travels several times, the first time being when he was 5 years old. It was 15 years ago, when his sister was kidnapped." Alder recalled as Clay frowned.

"Kidnapped? Like plucked from the bus stop?"

"Try the cradle. The girl, Venus, wasn't even one at the time. The M.O of that case was a lot like that Striation Incident about eighteen years ago."

Clay didn't reply to that, remembering both of those incidents (the one with the girl came to him after a moment, along with a similar incident a few months later with another infant girl whose name he couldn't remember) and the uproar they caused.

"Since that day, I've encountered Pan a few times, mostly after he left home on a journey. His starter was a Deino if I recall, and he was a lot happier the first time we met. However the second time...he had become obsessed with a man he called King."

"Yeah, I saw that. Apparently he didn't mean King of the Mines."

"No, this King he is obsessed with finding is the person he thinks took his sister. I never was able to get a clear answer from him about who he's looking for, but I do have a theory."

"It doesn't involve Elgyem does it?"

Alder actually chuckled a bit at that one.

"No, not at all. No, this theory is completely Elgyem free. No, this one actually has to relate to a rumor that I've been hearing with growing frequency in the last decade and a half. Rumors of a Bloodliner King."

Meanwhile on the Ocean

The pink haired girl, drenched and looking near death, was hooked up to a wide variety of medical monitors and bags. Her stats were bad, but were growing. Beside her lay the Pokeball of SD:0014.

A tall man in blue and gray eyed the woman with an unreadable expression.

"Why did we bother to fish her out? Ein can do her job perfectly fine." He wondered out loud, as a gravely voice explained.

"Sure he can, but Lovrina is far too skilled to throw away so recklessly. Her innovations to the Shadow Pokemon program are quite admirable."

"She still lost," the blue one pointed out as the old man chuckled.

"That she did, after wiping out a entire police force and showing that even a weak shadow Pokemon can take out most of a gym leader's Pokemon. The data she's given us is beyond valuable. To think I had once thought we would need a minimum of thirty shadow Pokemon to wipe out a regions gym leaders fighting at full power...clearly half that number will be sufficient."