The Days I Lived with Zeraora

Fuck, if you'd told me earlier that Zeraora was the Pokémon of a plague god like you, I wouldn't have even glanced at it!

Wade, whose body had been completely frozen stiff beneath Deoxys's oppressive aura, cursed furiously in his heart while despairing over his bleak future.

One thing was certain: he would never see the sun rise the next day—

If he was unlucky, the cold-faced Deoxys before him would fire a Psycho Boost, and not even ashes would remain of him.

If he was luckier, Xia Chen would hand him over to the Alola League, a region beyond the reach of the forces backing him.

By international convention, any regional Pokémon League had the authority to try criminal groups as heinous as Pokémon poachers without returning them to their region of origin.

And the Dragon Poaching Gang's countless crimes over the years were enough to empty an entire Gatling gun magazine—if such a thing existed in this world.

As for escaping this area, or entertaining an even crazier notion like killing Xia Chen in return, such thoughts had never even crossed Wade's mind.

Deoxys was no Zeraora, one of those creatures that merely "pretended to be a Legendary Pokémon." Before absolute strength, firearms and the fruits of human technology were meaningless.

Even the Ultimate Weapon, a world-ending weapon combining Pokémon power and human wisdom, had been destroyed by the man before him, hadn't it?

So Wade knew his place and wanted to surrender.

The pride of an Elite Four-level Trainer?

What use was such meaningless nonsense in the face of death?

Yet under Deoxys's nearly tangible aura, Wade could barely even make an expression, much less open his mouth to speak.

At that moment, he could only raise the white flag through pleading eyes.

Xia Chen ignored him.