This is 2/2. If you want to start from the beginning I suggest you find 
the first part and read that first. Otherwise, enjoy.

--------------------------------------------
(continued from part 1)

  I remember little of my past life, actually, but what I do remember
clearly is the event that brought about my rebirth: I was challenged
by a particularly sadistic Pokemon trainer and his Rhyhorn. The
problem was, I had no Pokemon of my own. However, being sadistic,
this trainer needed something to beat up, so he unleashed the
hundreds-of-pounds Rhyhorn on me. Of course, there was very little I
could do to prevent being trampled to death. Leaving my body quite
broken, the trainer and his monster left, laughing, satisfied that
'his' work was done.
  That creature... I can still hear it stomping on me....
  Eventually, a sympathetic soul found me... I have no idea where,
though, or how he found me. I remember having no money afford the
hospital (not to mention getting mended), and my rescuer had no money,
either. And then, it happened that my rescuer took me to a place that
would take away my old life forever.
  I knew this place well, you see. Being a resident of Cinnabar
Island, one couldn't help BUT know what that place was. Some people
liked to call it the Pokemon Mansion, but those who knew what it
really was knew better-- it was a lab, run by scientists obsessed with
Pokemon. It was the last place I wanted to go, but also the only place
I could get help. After I found out where I was destined to go, I
really wish I'd died.
  It didn't help that my rescuer was a scientist, too.
  Though the scientists found me an unusual 'patient,' they
nevertheless found a use for me-- other than healing me back to
health, that is. One particular scientist wished to perform experiments
on my body-- replacing body parts with metal ones. How could I refuse?
I was the one lying broken on the table, and I had no voice in the
matter, because I lost that, too.
  It was incredibly painful, that stomping....
  Most of the time, the scientists kept me knocked-out, but I knew
they were doing their work on me-- though I could barely feel my
arms and legs before, I knew when they were removed. I DEFINITELY knew
when they replaced my crushed eye; it took quite a while to look at
the world with normal, then red, vision. For quite a while I had to
get used to reading off the numbers and statistics that came up in
the mechanical eye... that is, whenever I had the chance to remain
conscious.
  My back seemed to get heavier, even though they hardly allowed me to
stand from my position lying on the operating table. Though my arm
movement was restricted to the table, I could move it enough to note
that there was some type of shielded hose running from my arm to my
back-- the purpose which I would not discover until later.
  The constant feeling I felt was numbness. Though I could still hear
the echoes of my rebirth in my mind, my body felt quite dead. You
should understand the feeling of your limbs 'going to sleep;' that is
the feeling I had all over, yes. And, though my body was numb, I
still felt the pain of the unnatural implants on me. I'm sure the
mechanical eye alone made for some serious rashness, and it would have
irritated me immensely had they allowed me to experience it in full.
The drugs never seemed to wear off.
  I have no idea how many experiments they did on me-- I was knocked
out most of the time-- before one of the 'experiments' escaped. I was
there, the night it happened, when one of the specimens broke out of
its bonds. At the time, I was restrained to an operating table,
awaiting yet another experiment, but the monster's wrath brought me
out of unconsciousness quickly. You see, it's hard to ignore a
psychic field so large....
  That was the first time I was made aware of my psionics, actually.
  The monster was screaming mentally, probably disturbing everybody in
the building. The idea that it was angry was no surprise, but it was
also making every other Pokemon in the building angry as well. I was
getting quite angry, myself.
  The only word I remember clearly was... 'REVENGE!'
  Feeling the surge of anger wash over me, I couldn't help myself.
The monster was CALLING me!
  The scientists made me well... perhaps too well. Despite all the
tranquilizers and drugs in my system, I easily broke out of my
restraints, bursting off the table with a life I had never known
before. Gears cranked in my limbs, an unusual feeling, but my
newfound psychic force helped compensate for that, making it seem
almost natural....
  Now that I mentioned it, I vaguely remember one of the scientists
owning a Kadabra, who willingly performed psychic surgery on me. I
barely remember that Kadabra, probably because he wiped me after the
operation. If I could meet that creature, I would thank it brutally.
  I also found that I was a little taller than before, probably due
to my new set of legs, giving me a few more centimeters to work with.
  Stretching myself with my unnatural arms, I immediately turned my
attention back to the operating table... and gave it my thanks for
serving as my home. It seemed that I was stronger than I anticipated,
for the table split in half when I pounded it... a pounding....
  I found the door quickly, running one arm straight through it as if
it were paper. With little effort I threw the ruined door aside-- so
much for security-- and stomped my way into the hallway.
  A stomp that echoed the one of my rebirth.
  Only anger fueled me then.... I paid little heed to how many
scientists I trampled, only that I must get revenge! One bold man
stood in my way in the hallway, holding up a lead pipe, hoping it was
enough to take care of me. Well, I threw my arms forth, and jetted a
fan of flames on him.
  I knew there was a use for the hoses connected to my arms, and this
was it.
  Flames danced on the man's lab coat enticingly, but I was too busy
in my rage to acknowledge it. The scientist burned alive before my
eyes in a few quick moments-- the blaze must have been quite intense,
for I could barely feel it myself, but the man seemed to. He was
screaming for help, of course, but I couldn't hear him-- not in my
rage, not in my summons.
  Stepping over the charred man, I pushed my way through, crushing
everything in my path, until one of the doors down the hallway burst
open with the same fury as my own. I felt a sudden chill in the
psychic winds... one so agonizing, so filled with hatred, that made
my own pale in comparison. It turned out to be the very creature that
stirred all of us into action in the first place.
  With catlike motion, the monster, a white humanoid being, stepped
out into the hallway, and peered at me with cold, predatorial eyes.
The new monster had obviously been doing redecorative work for quite
some time, because I didn't remember the psycic signature being so
close before.
  Though I'm sure I had more than enough power to take on the strange
monster, its gaze was more than enough to stop me from trying.
  Eyes narrowing in contempt, the monster took off down the hallway,
away from my position, probably wanting to escape just as much as I
wanted to. But, the chilling gaze served to undo my animalistic
instinct... reason returned, and I knew there was something to do
before I left: I needed to help the other captives.
  I vaguely recognized the area I was in being the lab section of the
mansion... where all the 'experiments' were kept. I fired off flames
at the nearest door, melting the locks. Realizing that action was
counterproductive, I punched my fist through, just as before.
  Held tight in a stasis chamber was a large, shelled Pokemon, of the
likes which I never saw before. Resembling a sort of chambered
nautilus with a row of spikes running around its shell, I later
learned that it was called 'Omastar' in the Pokemon League Index.
Needless to say, I freed the creature, but it was not so happy to see
me, as it was still under the psychic call.
  Taking leave of that chamber, I made my way to the next room-- which
turned out to be the research area for a Silph, Co. engineer. I grabbed
a set of experimental Pokeballs... colored in the universal 'hazard'
of black and yellow stripes. I had no idea why I took them in the
first place, but they have proven quite useful weapons.
  It was then that I sensed the white monster about to unleash its
wrath upon the mansion, and I knew I had to leave quickly. Stepping
out of the Silph lab, the Omastar I freed earlier was there in the
hallway, looking a bit confused, and perhaps was a bit upset. He, too,
felt the psychic energies of the white monster preparing to unleash
its wrath, and wanted desperately to escape.
  Grabbing Omastar with both metal claws, I ran as fast as I could,
desperately looking for the exit before the grand finale came. Losing
patience, and with an angry Pokemon in my arms, I made my own exit...
and leaped from the second story to the ground below.
  I had little time to get away from the building when the flames
burst from all the windows. By this time Omastar had long since
broken free of my grasp, and was heading straight for the sea, as by
instinct. Yet, while that Pokemon preferred the water... the flames
of the mansion seemed fascinating to me... perhaps an echo of my
past existence. The fire was enticing, but I knew I could not stay.
  Either way, I knew that the white monster escaped as well.
  The authorities wrote off the disaster as an accident, probably to
hide the fact that the scientists were constructing illegal weapons.
And, of course, I was one of those weapons.
  In the days afterward I hid myself, knowing very well what I
looked like, and I eventually stole a heavy traveling robe one night,
so I may travel freely in daylight. Slowly, I reintegrated myself
back into society, but obviously, I didn't fit in. In fact, there
was nothing of worth on me except the experimental Pokeballs I took
from the lab. Ten in total... and I didn't feel like making a
career as a Pokemon trainer, not after the mansion.
  Oh, yes. The police eventually DID notice I was wearing stolen
merchandise, but I... convinced them I was more trouble than I was
worth. Don't worry, I didn't do anything to damage them...
permanently. After that they just left me alone.
  Without having something to do with myself, I took to wandering
the island. Being that it was an island, there were very few places
to travel to. The people of the island always parted when I came
by, always afraid to say something in my presence, though I heard
them.... It did little to help that I became known as a wraith, a
legend along with the ghost monster who haunts the seashore at night.
Eventually, they learned that if they wanted me to stay away, they
gave me 'offerings' of food whenever I was in town.
  That was due to the fact that the restaurants were too afraid to
serve me, and, since I got hungry, and was without money, I had to
steal the food. Just giving it to me made things a whole lot easier
for everybody; I was not a pleasant burglar.
  Inevitably, Pokemon trainers challenged me, wishing to make names
for themselves by defeating the cloaked bully. And, of course,
as with the police before them, I made them stay away. Of course,
most of the time it was young upstarts, but any worth their salt knew
to stay away.
  And then, nearly three weeks since the mansion's destruction, I
was walking along the beach shore when I spied a Pokemon trainer
fighting a wild Pokemon-- it turned out to be Omastar that I freed
earlier. Omastar was in obvious agitation, and terribly weak due to
hunger (that was due to the fact that Omastar's shell was so heavy
that he had a hard time catching prey; according to the League Index
that fact was the reason Omastar died out long ago).
  Feeling strangely drawn to the troubled Omastar, I stepped in
like a specter, between the trainer's monster, Ivysaur, and Omastar.
  "Hey!" he said, "what'd you think you're doing?!"
  "This one is not for you," I told him.
  "I found that Pokemon first!" protested the trainer, obviously not
intimidated by my voice. "He's mine!"
  Within the folds of my robes I balled my fingers into fists, but
the trainer could not see them. He could not detect any sort of
anger, and, perhaps, was too stupid to realize I was not normal.
All he wanted was Omastar.
  "Omastar's freedom is not yours to take away!" I yelled, backed
by the full fury of my terrible anger.
  That seemed to wake the trainer, stunning him momentarily, but only
for that long. He replied by yelling, "Ivysaur, Vine Whip!"
  Two vines emerged from the grass Pokemon's planted back, lashing
out at me. Before either vine could touch me, however, I reached out
and snagged them both with my bare steel hands.
  "You seem smart," I lied, "so I'll give you this one chance to
leave. NOW."
  Obviously, appealing to his better nature didn't work, for the
trainer was deluded into believing he could beat me. Perhaps he was
too excited... or drunk with stupidity... with finding a rare
Pokemon alone on the beach. Either that or his parents shouldn't
have mated.
  While I held Ivysaur's vines, the trainer threw out another
Pokeball, releasing Staryu, the starfish Pokemon. Tossing Ivysaur
in the general direction of the sea, I parried Staryu's Tackle
attack. I even allowed Staryu to Minimize itself... just so I could
grab it with one hand.
  Holding Staryu in one metal claw and grabbing the trainer's arm
with the other, I told him, "Believing you could defeat me was your
first mistake; your second was attacking my friend here." Without
ceremony, I tossed him and Staryu out to join Ivysaur.
  When I said Omastar was my friend... I didn't know at the time I
meant it, but Omastar was obviously very pleased and grateful. In
fact, he latched on to me, following me as if I WAS his friend. In
pity, I took Omastar back to town with me, and fed him a share of
the evening's 'offerings,' just to get him back to health again... to
be free.
  But, what I soon realized was that Omastar was my solitary
companion-- not only because he was an outcast amidst other Pokemon,
but because he, too, was a victim of the Pokemon Mansion. Though I
did not fancy becoming a trainer myself, Omastar became... 'my' first
Pokemon partner.
  I say 'my' because I hardly considered him mine. In fact, I still
consider him more a friend than a possession; perhaps you'd like to
meet him?
  Anyway, with my first partner, I eventually earned money from
waging battles with other Pokemon trainers... and though I no longer
required the daily 'offerings,' I accepted them nonetheless, if only
to keep the neighbors happy. I kept Omastar well fed, as by this time
I figured out why he was so weak when I found him before. And, in
turn, Omastar proved himself a very capable fighter, using Spike
Cannon and Hydro Pump to overwhelm fledgling trainers... and even
veteran trainers as well. I even saved up enough money to buy the
technical machine to teach him Horn Drill, in order to make Omastar
even more powerful.
  Days had not passed when I realized that I should carry around
Omastar in a Pokeball. While Omastar was dubious about the idea, I
convinced him of the better qualities of it, though I hardly had any
idea what it was like being in one. I tried using the ones I'd taken
from the mansion, but for some reason the balls failed to do their
job. Eventually, I bought a Pokeball, the best I could buy, for my
friend, and a few more with my spare change, just in case. Since
then, Omastar hasn't objected... much. He never tells me what it's
like to be in one, and I hardly envy him.
  While Omastar and I got along well together, I could not help but
feel disturbed by the other trainers; where I saw myself and Omastar
as partners, most trainers regarded their Pokemon as merely
monsters-- tools for use in battles, and prove who's the better
trainer. Pokemon were discarded and traded like goods, the value
placed on rarity, appearance, or special attacks... even types!
Instead of proving their own strengths, they choose to prove
how much better their monster is-- a new schtick of sorts. I had no
such ambition; getting along with my life worked well enough, but the
thought nagged at my mind.
  The time came when I needed to leave the island... to go soul-
searching, so to speak. I tried to persuade Omastar to stay behind,
but he was too afraid to be without me, so I reluctantly allowed him
to come along. I left Cinnabar Island, and I wouldn't see it again
until almost two years later, when I concluded a world tour.
  I traveled far and wide, to places reputed to be where the wisemen
of yore pondered-- from Japan to Egypt, to Scotland, to Alaska... and
many places in-between, all the while sustaining myself with the
occasional Pokemon battle with big money stakes. I won many, I lost
a few, and I found new friends; you've met Scorpin, who I met in
Egypt. Along the way, I also met Scyther, Dratini, and Kingler, who
evolved along the way, after our first encounter in Maine.
  When I returned to Cinnabar Island, I was a changed man. I met many
Pokemon trainers all across the world, traveled to the World Pokemon
League Headquarters, and saw, perhaps, too much. Very few trainers
I've met in my travels, Pokemon League included (particularly one of
the local heads, Lance, who was at the World HQ when I visited on
business, and yet he never did shut up about his set of dragon
Pokemon), shared the type of bond I did with my friends, and I knew
that was wrong. I knew that the situation would never change... not
if I didn't do something about it.
  I possessed the means to carry out my agenda-- the Silph Pokeballs.
During my journey, I discovered their true power... the balls were
not designed to hold Pokemon, but PEOPLE! I could only guess why
Silph would construct them: to use them as weapons, as the
scientists were trying to do with me. And, inevitably, I realized
that everything in the mansion WAS designed to be a weapon-- for
what, I have no idea. One thing was for sure, their weapons turned
against them. But, this time, their weapons were going to be turned
on others.
  With ten Trainerballs (as I dubbed them) in my possession, I
began formulating a plan to make myself heard by the Pokemon League,
and all trainers everywhere. The most visible members of the League,
I decided, were the gym leaders. And, being on Cinnabar Island, there
was a gym right there.
  Perhaps it was poetic justice that the gym leader was none other
than Blaine, one of the surviving scientists of the Pokemon Mansion's
destruction.
  He recognized me, of course, as one of the 'experiments' of so
long ago. He remembered my name... 'Cinder.' Up until this point I
had no name; I was either a presence or referred to as a wraith, but
now... now, I had a name, an identity! And, in fact, Blaine was one
of the members of the 'Cinder project...' for that, I repaid him in
full by challenging him to battle. My undying torment of being
reborn in that manner unleashed itself that day.
  His lackey, Arcanine, was no match for the strength of Kingler. When
I captured Blaine, I set Arcanine free.
  And so, I eventually made my way to Fuschia, and did likewise to
Koga. I freed his own Pokemon as well, but one of their number,
Venomoth, wished to join in my crusade, particularly because he knew
I was on my way to challenge all the gym leaders. He, in particular,
wished to challenge Sabrina of Saffron City.
  Then I made my way to Vermilion City. And Saffron City. And now,
here.

			*  *  *  *  *

  "I look at you, a gym leader of the Pokemon League," Cinder said,
"and, for the first time, I question my road."
  Erika said nothing, her hands running through Tangela's soft
vines, in thought.
  "For the longest time," continued the cloaked man, "I never
believed any of the Pokemon League could be like you. You are quite
different, little girl."
  "Why?" asked the gym leader. "You find yourself in me or something?"
  Cinder chuckled softly. "Perhaps you're more of my ideal trainer."
  "You know," Erika started, "the whole reason I became a gym leader
was because I wanted to make a difference... and it's weird, because
I think I just did it."
  "Not in the way you hoped," added Cinder, his voice carrying and
uncharacteristically lighthearted tone.
  "I've done my share!" the girl said. "All the girls that work here
share my ideas."
  "Perhaps," the cloaked man replied. "And yet, my work has yet to
be done."
  "You're going to go to the Pokemon League, right?"
  Cinder nodded. "You're my obstacle from attaining that at the
moment."
  "No problem," Erika assured him. "You've already earned my badge
a while ago."
  "Other than that, there are three more gyms left to visit."
  "You're not going to try and kidnap them, too, are you?"
  The cloaked man sighed heavily. "No, I suppose not...." admitted
Cinder. "I should be consistent with myself, and if I'm not going to
appear before the League with all the gym leaders on my belt, then
it'll be none at all."
  Erika's eyes widened. "You're letting the others go?"
  Silently, Cinder nodded, allowing four of his Trainerballs to slide
down out of his sleeves. The black and yellow striped Pokeballs
rolled on the grass away from Cinder, toward Erika.
  "They will all be asleep," Cinder explained. "When they wake, they
might not know what happened since their capture. Some might not even
remember being in the Trainerball. It is up to you to take care of
them."
  The young gym leader nodded slowly. She reached into the folds of
her kimono, withdrawing a small, thumbnail-sized circular badge,
and handed it to Cinder's clawed hand wordlessly.
  Cinder's red eye blinked for a moment, and the cloaked man rose to
his feet. He began to turn to leave, but stopped himself.
  "There is one thing I must do, first," he said.
  "What's that?" Erika asked, setting Tangela down on the grass to
stand herself.
  A muffled snap was heard from beneath the folds of Cinder's robes,
and Cinder produced a Pokeball in his hand. Slowly, almost
ceremonially, he extended it out for Erika to take.
  Accepting the Pokeball, Erika stared at Cinder in surprise. "What
is it?"
  Though the darkness of Cinder's cowl hid his features, the gym
leader almost thought he was smiling. "Dratini," he said simply. "He
has traveled long and hard, and travel wearies him."
  "Dratini?" Erika repeated in wonderment. The young dragon Pokemon
was extremely rare, almost considered mythical, if not for the fact
that a number of trainers were training some.
  "He is young," continued Cinder. "And he needs a place to stay. Up
until now, there hasn't been a place safe enough for him to live, and
now I've found it."
  "T...thank you," the girl whispered, opening the Pokeball.
  Materializing from the Pokeball, a small, snake-like monster
emerged, diving straight into the pond that so reminded him of his
birth place. Dratini, the young dragon Pokemon, broke the surface,
crooning happily.
  "He likes this place already," offered the cloaked man.
  "He'll be fine here," agreed Erika.
  Dratini's eyes focused on Cinder for a moment, then he disappeared
beneath the surface.
  "So, where're you going now?" asked Erika. "I'm not sure the
police would leave you alone even after you gave the gym leaders
back."
  Cinder shrugged. "I have no problem with the police," he said.
"I've beaten them before, and I'm still three steps ahead of them,
so I don't see any problem with that." He eyed Erika conspiratorially.
"And I'm hoping you'll keep your discretion when they arrive."
  "Right," answered Erika, unsure how she would say to the cops.
  "Other than that," he continued, "I plan on going to Cerulean,
then Pewter, and down to Viridian... and then, the Pokemon League.
Hopefully, I'll be able to make my case to them, before the League
tournament convenes, preferably. But, if I must, I will compete at
the tournament, and I do hope to see you there when I do."
  Erika offered a smile. "Hey, I haven't missed out on a tournament
yet. It's a good chance to chat with old friends, see the newcomers,
and all that."
  Cinder nodded. "Well, then, I will take my leave of you."
  He barely made two steps before the young gym leader stopped him.
  "Wait," she said.
  "What is it?" he asked, turning around.
  Gathering up her courage, Erika asked, "What do you look like,
under that heavy robe?" Quickly, she added, "Y... you don't have to
show me... I'm just curious. You can't look that bad...."
  Again, Erika thought Cinder was smiling.
  "You really want to see," Cinder said, his metal claws reaching
for his cowl. "Don't be surprised by what you see."
  When the cowl was thrown back, Erika did little to contain her
surprise. "W... wow," she whispered in awe.
  Quickly replacing the cowl, Cinder laughed softly. "Not exactly
what you expected? I'm not surprised; anybody else would have been
scared stiff at the thought of what I was."
  "You're just as human as the rest of us," Erika assured him.
"Just don't lose that at the League, and you'll be fine."
  Nodding wordlessly, Cinder turned to leave.
  Erika stood there for several moments, wondering how Cinder could
dampen his flaming-orange aura so well.

			*  *  *  *  *

  I left the Celadon Gym with mixed feelings. Though my course had
changed, I wondered if it was for the better.
  Once again, the stomping changed my course. Only this time, the
stomp came in a different form.
  Learning to trust... a human being, after years of trusting only
Pokemon, was hard. Part of me regretted leaving Dratini in the hands
of a human, but my more reasonable part knew it was the right choice.
I'm sure the girl will take good care of him; he deserved a home.
  What I told her was the truth... to my surprise. I was not used to
telling my tale; in fact, that was the first time I heard it myself.
Looking back upon it, maybe I made some bad decisions... some of them
certainly don't make sense now. The Trainerballs, for instance... that
idea made sense at the time, but I can't seem to remember why I liked
the idea in the first place. The League probably would've been less-
inclined to listen to me if I had hostages....
  Six Trainerballs... hopefully, I won't ever have to use them.
  But now, since I left four of them behind, Silph, Co. will no doubt
discover they still exist, and might come after me or the girl. They
may even try to reinvent them, and use them as weapons, as I thought
they were for.
  No matter. For the moment, that will keep them busy. If the girl
is smart-- no, she is-- she will... 'damage' the Trainerballs before
the police arrive. That alone would set back Silph, Co. for a few
long weeks... maybe even months, as they try to figure out the
nature of the Trainerballs. When they finally get around to covering
it all up, it will be too late.
  As for me, my course is set. All five of my badges, legitimately
won in combat, are but the start of my collection. Three more to go,
and I can take my case to the local Pokemon League. If I appeared
otherwise they stood a good chance not listening to me, but when I
become one of their number, they MUST listen.
  In my travels I have met many Pokemon... I have met many trainers.
I have seen too much, and too little, of the impact of the League on
the world. I've met many Pokemon as intelligent as their masters,
ones who endure trials and pain for the sake of their masters, to
glorify them. I can't stand by and watch friends such as these fall
under the cruel sway of trainers.
  I need to keep my friends close. I need to find more of those
friends out there, if the girl... Erika, was any indication.
  I need to keep my enemies even closer. There is nothing worse than
having the world against you-- it is a long, hard, dangerous road,
all uphill. Perhaps, one day, I could visit my enemies in person:
Silph, Co., the Pokemon schools, the Pokemon mini-gangs, and Team
Rocket (strangely enough, they are outlaws among their own kind).
They will all pay when my work is finished.
  Somewhere, the stomping continues.
  Once again, the wraith disappeares into the shadows of the twilight.
  I will not be denied.


------------------------------------------------
(notes omitted due to length of composition)

----------------------------------------------------------
If you're [un]lucky, you earn a place in my .sig!

* "[Y]ou're lamer than your signature and screen name indicate."--Chris 
Davies
* "There was a recent case where a fanfic author put together his work with 
only another fanfic serving as his primary resource.  *I* started writing 
fanfiction that way, and consequently I never grew attached to this whole 
idea of remaining true to the original.  I call it "correction."--Reverend 
Prez

--Razorclaw X
Author: "The Wheel of Fire", "The World's Worst Ranma Fanfic!", "The 
Geometry of Shattered Souls", "The Balance of Power".
"I sold my soul to buy a copy of the dubbed 'Ukyo Can Cook'"
"Decepticons Forever!"


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