In the beginning, there was solitude.
There was darkness, empty and cold. In the beginning, there was all that was, all that is and all that will be; everything began and ended, ended and began, over, over and over. There is nothing that has not been. There is nothing that will not be.
And then, as with most beginnings, there was light.
It glowed, warm, pregnant with knowledge and being. It glowed, hotter still, as if yearning for birth. And then, as the light shimmered fully, pitting the darkness to the farthest edges of everything, He was born.
The Original One.
Body still aglow with the viscera of light from His egg, He took His first step into the darkness that both cradled Him and despised Him.
It cradled Him, because the darkness knew it could use Him. It could twist His children. It could twist anything he created, and oh, how did it yearn for him to create. How did it yearn and crave to twist his precious children. Yet, it despised Him, because the darkness knew, as He knew, that light is strong. Even the dimmest flicker of light can repel the darkness. No matter the shadows, light could fight against the oncoming of the dark.
The Original One put the thought from His mind, because knew that such a thing was inescapable. Light and darkness will always exist as two halves of a whole. With that knowledge, He surveyed the darkness that shied away from his light. Closing his eyes, he willed into being his first two children.
Dialga, the Roar of Time, his voice daunting and loud and unavoidable for all. Dialga, whom controls the beginning and end of all time... and Palkia, the Spacial Render, whom all matter can trace a parenthood back to. Palkia, whom all that is owes existence to. So then did the Roar of Time and the Spacial Render create time and space for the Original One.
But, they were not without a third brother. He, too, created Giratina, whose purpose was twisted by the darkness. Giratina became the Force of Darkness... Giratina, who sought to destroy, and for this, was punished with eternal life in a realm to contain it...
Then, turning to the word that His first two children had created, He saw that it was without thought. It had time and it had space, but it still lacked so much. So much. The Original One closed his eyes and created again, thus, three children became six. Uxie, of Knowledge, Mespirt, of Emotion, and Azelf, of Willpower were born. And so, these three new lights wished and from their wish thought and emotion and all that will ever be known was born.
The Original One surveyed his children and saw that their work was done. He looked to the world once more and saw that it still lacked land to walk upon and water to drink. So, He closed his eyes and he created once more. They were each many, though they identify as one species. He wanted the world to be vast and plentiful, and it was their job to fill it with the land and the seas. Kyogre, the Leviathans of the Seas, and Groudon, the Behemoths of the Land, were born.
Together, these children created the surfaces of His world. But, they quarreled at times, when a pair of opposites would meet. To prevent these quarrels, The Original One created Rayquaza, Dragons of the Skies, their third brothers, to quell their fighting.
Their jobs done, and six children now numbering nine, He sent his young to find their homes. Those of thought took to three lakes, those of the surfaces found pits in the ocean or deep caves or flew endlessly in the skies, forever waiting to quell their brothers. Time and Space, however, remained in the realm of their Father.
And then he closed his eyes once more, for his work was not done, and he created Regigigas, the King of Giants, those mountains. He bid his newest child travel the world and shape the land that Groudon had created. Form it,
He said, make hills and caves and valleys to shelter my young. Make mountains and canyons to challenge them.
So, make these the King of Giants did, and in doing so, the King of Giants moved the lands and shaped the world as He saw fit. He watched his tenth child toil away at its task, and as the King of Giants closed in on its finish, The Original One closed his eyes once again...
And He created life. Mew, the First Born. He made many of them and he spread them far and wide. Within them He imbued the innocence of life. Within them He created all the races that would be, that are, and that will be. And He sent them off to live and thrive in the world He had created for them.
Then, He looked down to where he saw time and space swell with knowledge, emotion and will... to where he saw the seas break upon the earth and turn to mist in the skies... to where he saw mountains and valleys, streams and forests... to where he saw his children sleeping or thriving... and, though darkness tinged the edges of the world... ...He still smiled.
He then turned to the world and created the others: those powerful beings to govern nature, to govern the elements. They were born from the winds, the fire, of volcanoes, from lightning and ice. They were born of forests and wishes and of sibling-hood. Some were born of space, some were born of the sea... others yet were born of gratitude. Some would guard the skies and the oceans.
He smiled as his children spread far and wide. Then finally, his work done, He closed his eyes and took to an unyielding sleep.—Of the Beginning, the Being of Knowledge. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In time, all things change.
Mountains are born and die over time, they reach high and crumble in time. Forests spread and recede, oceans and the very continents themselves change. Time effects a great many thing, but, most of all, time effects life. And, though those of the First Born spread far and wide, life is a race of time. It is a race of survival. The race of the First Born that held all life eventually sought shelter in the hidden realms of the Earth due to the decrease in its numbers.
It had given away to time, but it had also given away to something much different. It had given way to a different race, a race far removed from its lineage as one of His children. It had given way to the race of man.
And oh... how darkness did feed upon man! Man, still gifted with essence of light, but so easy to turn to the darkness... so easy to twist and maim and relish the evil as it grew like a dark disease inside their fluttering hearts. Yes... Darkness did indeed love man... and though some men were easier to twist than others, the darkness found its home in the hearts of man. For where His children, Pokémon, were pure, man was so easily stolen from His hold.
And as those eons passed, as He slept, so sure that light would always triumph over the darkness, man was turned away from the power of the Original One. And, despite that man had stemmed from one of His creations, man forgot about the purity of light... and took the world into their own hands.
And still, as the darkness creeped back into the world... He continued to sleep. Perhaps out of faith, perhaps because He simply did not know... Or perhaps because He was shamed by those human children of His who so easily forgot about the light.—Of the Darkness and Time, the Roar of Time. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ages and ages passed.
Different species grew, thrived, or became extinct all together. Things are no longer what they once were. Those beings that He had created, those Legends... oh, they still govern and live, but they are forgotten for the most part.
It is easy enough to say that one race thrived more than all. Man pushed His children to the farthest reaches, man lost their connection to the children of lore, those Legends... Today, all man can find of his ancient ancestors is a glimpses or a tale, so old it has lost its meaning. Man does not know His power as the Legends know it. For the Legends, races so close to what they were in the beginning, the trait is ingrained on their very souls.
For the common Pokémon, descendants from the First Born, they still understand it to some extent, perhaps as some long buried instinct... But not man, no, he has lost that connection.
How darkness has thrived on that!
War, theft, murder... All products of the shadows. There are those of men that would advocate this behavior. They create mock Legends, a pale attempt at playing god. They aim to alter the seas and the lands of the world for their own designs. They seek to be gods themselves...
Man does a great many things to attempt to tame the world, attempt to shape it. Man does not understand how he is rather cutting the heart out of the world, opening holes for the darkness to seep in.
And perhaps... this is why He awoke. Perhaps in some ethereal fiber of his being, he felt all the wrong even through his most deep slumber. Perhaps this is why he seeks to cast Judgement upon those wrongdoers of men by altering the natural moods of the seasons and weather to punish him.
Perhaps...—Of Man, the Being of Knowledge. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A storm is brewing.
Grey, steely white, as far as the eye can see. Lightning ripples across the angry clouds but never strikes the ground. It's as if it has yet to make up its mind whether now is the time to unleash its fury. These storms spread, further and further, devouring the sky of whole regions. Then they're gone. Meteorologists can not explain their existence, but nothing has become of them, so they think little of it. So... perhaps there is still a chance.
Or perhaps it is still too late for the race of man.
It has been six years since the disaster in Sinnoh concerning time and space. Six long years since Team Rocket terrorized Johto. It has been even longer since Team Rocket was formed in Kanto and since Kyogre and Groudon were quelled once more in Hoenn.
Long, long years. They pass for many without worry, for unbeknownst to them, the darkness is stirring. It churns and rages as the villains of this world plot their schemes. Always their evil exits, though they may have been thwarted once or twice before, always they plan some new crime. Always they terrorize. And as they spread their darkness, so too does the darkness upon the horizon churn.
Many, however, do not notice. They are blind to it. Few, a handful at most, can see it in the wild things. Among the wild Pokémon, still closer to the core of life than humans or trained Pokémon, the effects are more prominent. They are scared. They fear what they can not understand. Or rather, they can understand that something has happened in the great balance of things, but they do no know why.
The planet itself feels the disturbance... it's almost as if it is shuddering in fear from what is to come. The winds carry a silent scream. The trees are still with fear. The ocean moves with anxiety, its deep waters quivering. The deserts thrash their sandstorms in anger. The world grows dark.
A storm is coming. There is a change in the wind. These days grow darker... and...
This One fears there is no turning back.—Of the Future, the Guardian of the Seas.