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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 6 years

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War of Attrition: Chapter 18

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. You visit an old, dangerous person, knowing full well that you might not come out of the confrontation alive. Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of: past torture, death, blood, weapons. Allusions to PTSD. Word Count: ~4,704 A/N: Not dead, I promise. Finally out of school, though.

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

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Bucky’s smile was melancholy, too, the destruction of the city a fresh horror in his mind, along with the fear of losing you. Again.

“That’s… that’s good,” he said finally, looking up at you with what could only be adoration.

Your smile turned a little lighter- a little more genuine- and you nodded. “Yeah. I think so, too.”

Bucky was quiet next to you as you walked down the street. He hadn’t talked since you got on the boat to Japan, having long since realized there wasn’t a point in trying to talk you out of your latest endeavor.

Not that you blamed him. Your idea would almost definitely end with you and Bucky being killed or heavily wounded. Still, your conscience didn’t let you sit still after what you’d remembered a few days ago.

A small clearing. Cherry trees blossoming, petals bright even in the gloom of early night. Blood seeping into cherry wood floors. Two smiling faces looking up at you in black and white. Flashing claws of bone. Bucky’s pained groan and steely gaze.

Between the tiny glimpses and uneasy feeling in your gut you’d long suspected you’d done something as the Soldiers, but then you’d woken up in a cold sweat a few weeks ago and told Bucky everything you could before your mind lost the memories again.

The next two weeks had been spent yelling and fighting and eventually you put your foot down, saying you were going to apologize to Logan face to face, regardless of the possible outcomes (most of which, if you were being honest with yourself, entailed ending up in a pool of your own blood).

Bucky twitched as someone turned onto the small street you were walking down, jarring you back into the present. The area was so low-tech that you hadn’t bothered with the nano skin, relying on clothes and sunglasses to keep your enhancements hidden. You had a sinking feeling that trying to hide your true identities would only incense Logan further, and you needed every advantage you could get if you wanted more than a snowball’s chance in hell of getting out.

You reached out for Bucky’s hand nearly without thinking, the action subconscious at this point.

“Why’s he gotta live in the middle of nowhere?” Bucky muttered as soon as the civilian was out of earshot. He was still as annoyed about the whole affair as he had been the entire last two days.

You glanced at Bucky for only a second then quickly returned to scanning the area for threats. “Can you really imagine Logan living in the middle of a busy city?” you asked quietly. Bucky only huffed out an annoyed sigh but all that did was make your lips quirk up in a smirk. “‘Sides, this works out better for us anyway.”

“We stick out like sore thumbs,” Bucky countered, annoyance clear as day in his tone.

You shrugged, gently jostling your intertwined hands. “Maybe. I figure an area as pretty as this gets tourists, even if it is a bit rural.”

Bucky’s steel blue eyes finally turned on you, disbelief barely noticeable in the set of his jaw and the lines around his eyes. “They don’t even have electricity out here, Doll.”

You bit back a smirk. “That’s why it took us so long to find ‘im, though. Maybe he’s got the right idea.”

“You’d go insane within the week,” Bucky said flatly, obviously guessing where you were going with that line of thought.

You fought the urge to pout and gently nudged him with your shoulder instead. “Not if I set up next to a river and made a hydro-electric dam for myself. Or finally finished my portable nuclear reactor.”

Bucky’s gaze turned worried and perhaps a shade frantic. “Please don’t do either of those things. I’m beggin’ ya.”

The Brooklyn accent slipped in whenever you caught him off guard and you couldn’t help but smile whenever it returned with a vengeance like that. “Fine, fine. This is our turn, anyhow. Gotta be on alert now.”

Bucky’s face turned stony again and you missed the light in his eyes that had been there just a moment ago as he stared down the narrow dirt road. He was nervous, but you knew his fear wasn’t for his own well being. It was reserved for you.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze which he returned. In perfect synchronization you both stepped forward and began walking down the road.

The farther you walked, the jumpier you and Bucky became. Even with your backscatter vision and Bucky’s enhanced hearing you were loath to underestimate the short, angry man.

The cabin came into vision without incident, though, and a quick backscatter peek inside told you he wasn’t home.

You stopped at the edge of the clearing, skin prickling uncomfortably as your scattered memories overlaid with the present. The house that Logan had built was eerily similar to the one he’d shared with his wife (Itsu. Japanese. Married Logan in 1946. Skilled swordswoman. Pregnant. Clean kill; slash to the throat and stomach. Weapon: Katana.).

You shook the clinical thoughts from your head and tugged Bucky to a stop. He looked down at you warily. “Not here,” you said, answering his unasked question. He nodded, but didn’t relax at all.

“How long do we wait?” he asked eyes darting around the clearing.

You frowned and tried to ground yourself more firmly in the present by leaning against Bucky, who stilled marginally at the contact. “As long as it takes,” you whispered as the image of a happy, young Japanese woman in 40′s clothing flashed in your mind.

The first sign was Bucky tensing next to you, going so still he could be mistaken for a statue. You flicked your eyes to backscatter without hesitation, eyelids closed as you searched every direction, not that you had to look very hard.

Logan was frozen maybe two hundred feet down the path, nostrils flaring and brows drawing low over his eyes.

What surprised you, though, was the metal attached brutally to his skeleton. You’d heard the rumors and scavenged what information you could on the Weapon X program (only to shut it down if you found any traces of it, not that you’d been successful in either capacity). Still, seeing it in person- well, mostly in person- was something else entirely.

You tensed and stood slowly. Bucky was already on his feet and staring down the road at exactly where Logan was, though you knew vision of him would still be blocked by the trees. Any second now Logan would charge through the trees and rip you and Bucky to shreds with those wicked metal-covered claws.

Logan drew a deep breath and you knew if he was any harrier than he already was you’d be able to see his hair stand on end. As it was, he was even tenser than Bucky.

The two of you had barely been able to run away last time and that was before he’d been infused with adamantium. You’d both had a few upgrades between now and 1946, but you doubted that’d mean much in the end.

When he stepped forward calmly, almost serenely, you couldn’t help the surprise that leapt to your face. The sudden change in expression made Bucky glance down at you and, while he looked confused by your reaction, he didn’t relax at all.

In fact, his confused frown only turned into a glower once Logan walked into view.

He paused as soon as he laid eyes on the two of you, dark brown eyes assessing and less hostile than you’d expected. He was maybe a hundred feet/thirty meters away, so close you could reach him in a second if you used your cybernetics.

He looked you and Bucky up and down and you fought the urge to flinch under his stare. The last time you’d seen him he was trying to kill you, and you couldn’t even blame him. You’d just murdered his wife and unborn child, after all.

The silence stretched on for what felt like a small eternity. You’d had so many things you’d wanted to say the moment you saw him, but everything seemed inadequate now that you were looking at him, the weight of your sins bearing down on you like a physical weight.

Then, “Guess I owe Romanoff ten bucks.”

Your eyes widened in shock and even Bucky shifted next to you. You opened your mouth to ask... something, anything... but Logan was already turning away from you and walking towards the house. The old fashioned doors didn’t even have a lock; he merely slid the bamboo doors open and stepped inside, pausing only long enough to take his shoes off.

You and Bucky stared after him in stunned surprise, not expecting that sort of reaction in a hundred years.

“You comin’ in or what?” came a gruff, half-yelled question from inside the house.

Bucky looked at you, uncertainty narrowing his eyes and making that ever-present tension return twofold.

“I doubt you two came from god-knows-where just to sit out there and gawk at my house like a coupla idiots.” He sounded even more annoyed this time.

Your legs moved of their own accord, not having listen to any conscious command from your mind. The house loomed over you as you walked closer but you didn’t dare stop now, afraid you’d turn and run if you stopped to think for a moment.

Bucky was silent but you knew he was following you; he’d already agreed to do this with you, after all, no matter what came.

The house was traditional in nearly every sense of the word. The flats you’d been wearing came off instantly (you felt more comfortable without shoes on, anyway) and Bucky’s muddy, scuffed boots followed a half second later. You used backscatter to find Logan and tilted your head in the right direction so Bucky would know where to go.

You’d half expected to find a TV or refrigerator or microwave, but every modern appliance was missing. The sitting room Logan was in had a tatami mat floor with a single low, long table and a few pillows for sitting. The floor and table were nice, obviously hand-crafted with care, but the pillows were old and raggedy.

Logan was already sitting at the far end of the table, looking almost lazy as he leaned against it, though his eyes were sharply assessing as you and Bucky appeared in the doorway.

“So? Who am I talking to? The Barneses or the Winter Soldiers?” he asked, tone carefully neutral, almost disinterested.

You winced and opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. All of those hours spent agonizing over what you’d say, how you’d apologize, and now that you were finally here-

Logan scoffed and reached into a small box on the table. Bucky shuffled, obviously expecting a weapon, but your hand on his arm stilled him instantly.

“Guess that answers that,” he said flatly. Logan pulled out a long cigar and cut it with the tip of a metal-covered claw, which peeked out of the skin between his knuckles and flashed ominously in the low light. The sharp edge disappeared back into his skin, though, and you and Bucky both relaxed ever so slightly. “Sit down, assholes,” he said gruffly as he placed the cigar between his lips and lit it with a match from a book he pulled from his pocket.

You and Bucky exchanged a glance. You could tell from a split-second assessment that he was still unsure about how this would end. But... if Logan was going to attack he would have by now... right?

A second later you stepped forward, tugging a reluctant Bucky with you. You sat at the opposite end of the table from Logan, who was watching the two of you closely.

You settled down on a lumpy pillow and Bucky sat down next to you, forgoing a pillow in lieu of being as close to you as possible. You could tell he didn’t like having his back to a door, but the walls were made of paper and thin wood- it wasn’t like you couldn’t make an escape in any direction if the need arose.

The silence stretched on again, with neither you nor Bucky able to come up with a coherent sentence. Logan puffed quietly at his cigar, seemingly content to let the two of you stew in silence.

“Y’know, if I got cell service out here I woulda called Rogers and Romanoff by now.”

You and Bucky froze again, eyes widening slightly. It was Bucky who managed to talk first. “You’ve been- They contacted you?” he asked, not quite able to keep the fear out of his voice.

Logan let out a long exhale and you fought the urge to wrinkle your nose at the smoke. “They thought you two might come knockin’. Guess they know you better‘n ya think.” That made both you and Bucky clam up, unsure of what to say next. This wasn’t going how either of you thought it would. When it was clear neither of you would speak any time soon, Logan let out an annoyed huff. “I don’t have enough saké for this...” he muttered, running a rough hand down his face. When he looked at you again, his eyes were a bit harder. “And I don’t got all day, either. Speak up or I’m kickin’ you out.”

You frowned and reached for Bucky’s hand, needing the comfort it provided to get you through what you were about to say. He met you halfway and gave you a gentle squeeze that bolstered you enough that you were able to find the courage to speak, though your gaze was fixed on the table.

“How much do you know?” you asked, almost fearing the answer.

Logan puffed on his cigar and took his time responding. “Natasha and Rogers handed me a file. Told me everything they knew, which I’m guessing isn’t even the half of it. Still, there were enough damn nightmares in that folder that, for the first time in seventy years, I didn’t wanna kill ya.” Your and Bucky’s gazes flicked to him then, surprise lining your features. Logan took one look at you and scoffed. “Don’t go gettin’ all doe eyed, ya damn idiots. You’re way too old and badass to be lookin’ like that.”

Your mouth twitched up in a sort of aborted smile, but your frown returned with a vengeance. “We’re sorry. I know words can never make up for what we did... what I did-” Bucky made a distressed, angry noise beside you, but your gaze was glued to Logan. “-But we are.” You scooted away from Bucky and got on your knees, then slowly lowered your forehead to the ground, hands set on either side of your head. A second later you felt Bucky shift next to you and you could glimpse him mirroring your position out of the corner of your eye. Lowering his guard like this in front of Logan must have been killing him, but he stayed doggedly in place.

For a second, there was only the sound of Logan smoking his cigar, but you didn’t have long to wait. “Dogeza? Really? Get up, you fucking idiots,” he sounded irritated and conflicted.

You raised your head at the same time Bucky did and immediately gravitated back towards his side. His arm was around your waist a second later and you practically melted into his side.

Logan was glaring at the two of you and you fought the urge to grab Bucky and run. He seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. “I know what happened wasn’t your damn fault. That much was clear.” Another pause, then, “A lot of shit happened after that night. The kid lived, then tried to kill me at least a half dozen times. I got experimented on. Fell in love a few times. Got married to a woman who wanted to kill me. Joined the X-Men and dealt with their bullshit for a few decades...” he trailed off, annoyance obviously growing by the second. He blinked once or twice and seemed to refocus on you and Bucky. “Point is, between what’s happened to me and what Rogers and Natasha told me... I ain’t gonna hold it against you.”

You knew you were staring at Logan, slack-jawed, but you couldn’t help it. Never in a million years did you expect this response and- “But how, Logan? I killed her and she-”

Logan’s face turned thunderous. “If you could go back right now- to that night- would you do it again? Slit her throat with her own katana and leave her to die in a pool of her own blood?”

You flinched as if struck by a physical blow, memories flashing behind your eyes. “No-” your voice failed for a second and you had to swallow thickly. “No, I wouldn’t- I don’t want to-” Your words failed you again and you barely registered Bucky pulling you to his chest.

Logan’s face returned to something a little more neutral. If you weren’t mistaken, his deep brown eyes were a little sad. “Yeah, well, there’s the answer, right? Wasn’t you; wasn’t your choice.”

Bucky was running his hands gently over your arms, an obvious attempt to ground and comfort you. Your eyes, however, were fixed on Logan’s deceptively relaxed form. “But I did it,” you breathed. Now that Logan had all but forgiven you, you found yourself at a loss. Why didn’t he hate you? He should. You should have just stopped talking and taken what he gave you, but you almost needed his hate. You deserved it.

“Yeah, you did.” His voice was carefully neutral, not accusatory, just stating a fact.

“Then why?” Your voice was strained, your mind unable to process what was happening.

Logan sighed, wafting a large plume of smoke into the room. “Nah, we’re not gonna talk each other in circles all night. I’ve said my piece and you’ve said yours.” You stared at him, wanting to say more, but he continued speaking before you could. “How’d you find me? More of your tech mumbo jumbo?”

The sudden change of subject had you reeling and Bucky recovered before you.

“Wade,” he said hoarsely.

Logan looked truly annoyed now. “Wade? As in Wade Wilson?” he growled.

Bucky’s smile was more of a grimace. “The one and only.”

“And how the hell does that bastard know where I am?” He looked peeved at the very prospect.

You shrugged. “Dunno. I asked if he’d seen you around lately and he said he’d- and I quote- ‘ask Tin Man to call in a favor with Wheels’.“

Logan groaned, took the cigar from his mouth with one hand, and ran his other hand down his face in exasperation. “I hate that kid. Doesn’t know when to shut up... S’pose he could be worse, though...” The look on Logan’s face was a little haunted and you wondered, momentarily, what Wade had done to him. When you’d talked to him a few weeks ago Wade had been polite to a fault, if not a bit weird. You’d had trouble keeping up with whatever he was talking about, but the moment you’d asked for help locating Logan he’d said “Whatever it takes to help move the plot along! You haven’t had a new chapter in weeks!” You’d stared at him as though he’d grown a second head, but he got on his cell phone and within ten minutes you had Logan’s location. One long drive and a nauseating boat ride later and you were in Japan.

Logan groaned and nearly bit his cigar in half. “Shit, I need to move. I just finished the damn tatami, too.” He ran a hand over the mats covering the floor, scowling at them as though it was somehow the floor’s fault.

You grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t know how else to find you.“

Logan waved a hand, dismissing your apology. “It’s done now. Didn’t plan on stayin’ here forever anyway.” He reached the end of his cigar and snubbed the end against his palm, wincing only slightly before placing the small, gently-smoking end on the table.

You shifted nervously, unsure of what to do now that you’d more or less gotten your thoughts and feelings across to Logan. Bucky ended up deciding for you and stood, extending a hand to help you up once he was on his feet. You stared at the paper wall, trying your best to avoid Logan’s assessing gaze and Bucky’s concerned looks. “We’ll... be on our way, then. We don’t want to impose any more than we already have. Goodbye, Logan.” You turned to leave with Bucky following closely behind, but Logan’s gruff voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait.”

This was it. This was when he unsheathed those deadly sharp claws and tried to kill both of you. You tensed and turned around slowly, not wanting to startle Logan into attacking any sooner than necessary.

“I’m sorry.” Logan’s face was twisted into a grimace, as though the words hurt him to say.

Those two words shocked you so thoroughly that your arms dropped limply to your side and you felt your shoulders slump. You knew your mouth was open and your eyes were wide but you couldn’t do anything about that just then.

Logan’s dark eyes met yours and you could tell it was him that was having trouble keeping eye contact now. “I shoulda looked for you. Both of you.” He glanced up at Bucky, who shifted restlessly next to you, likely caught even more off guard by Logan’s declaration than you, as they’d never really gotten along. “By the time Dugan told me what happened, Rogers had already put the plane in the ice. I knew it was suspicious that we hadn’t found either of you, even if it was in the middle of nowhere. I was one’a the only people who probably coulda found ya, and I didn’t. Didn’t even try. I shoulda-” he growled, and reached into the cigar box, prepping his next cigar in a flash. Barely a few seconds later he had the fat cigar in his mouth, scowl lining his brow.

“Thanks for saying that, Logan, but it ain’t nobody’s fault but Hydra’s.” Bucky’s voice was the softest you’d ever heard it when speaking to Logan and the shorter man glared at him, probably feeling as awkward as Bucky had felt at Logan’s words.

“And Logan?” you said with a small frown.

“Mm?” Logan grunted, brown eyes flicking back to your face, brow quirked ever-so-slightly in question.

“If you ever want to talk- or need some backup- you got two people who understand and will be more than willing to help.” You tried to give him what you hoped was a kind smile, though happy expressions were hard to make unless it was Bucky eliciting them.

“Not that we’re exactly the picture of mental health,” Bucky added dryly.

That, at least, drew an amused snort from Logan. “You and me both, pal,” he said gruffly. “So, what? You gonna give me some piece of crap cellphone with your number in it, too?” When you raised an eyebrow Logan rummaged around in one of his jacket’s pockets, eventually managing to extricate an ancient flip phone. He held it in the air and waved it once before shoving it back in his pocket. “Rogers gave it to me in case I managed to get a lead on you two.”

That made you frown and you fought the urge to fry it to pieces; that would almost definitely lead to a fight between you and Logan. However, you had a hunch that you were eager to prove. “But you’re not gonna tell them anything.”

Logan sighed out a puff of smoke. “Nope.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side and regarded Logan with a quizzical expression. “Why not?”

It was only after he took another puff of his cigar and blew it into the air that he responded. “Because you don’t wanna be found.”

You and Bucky stared at him for a moment then exchanged disbelieving glances before returning your gazes to him. “Just like that?” you asked with a small frown. It was too good to be true. All of this was. Neither of you were that lucky. Hell, Logan wasn’t that lucky.

Logan’s gaze turned hard. “Guess there is one more part. If you two go off the rails again it’ll be my duty to stop you.”

You felt your blood run cold at the thought. As far as you knew, the number of people who could stop you and Bucky could be counted on your hands at this point. One of them was definitely Logan.

It made sense, though. He was honorable. By letting you go now he was at least partially responsible for anything you did from this point onward. If Hydra got a hold of you again or if both of you regressed... he’d hunt you down.

“That’s fair,” you said after a pregnant pause, mouth in a hard, grim line. Bucky shifted restlessly next to you, upset at the prospect but knowing that, ultimately, it was probably for the best. “I don’t think either of us would want-” you bit your lip, eyes once again falling to the mats.

“If we become the Soldiers again, that’s for the best,” Bucky said quietly. You glanced at him, but he was staring Logan dead in the eyes, jaw set grimly.

Logan nodded once to him before his eyes flicked to you, features softening a bit. “Go on, then. I’d offer you a room fro the night, but I know you’re itching to get outta here.” The words could have been harsh, but they were said with just a bit too much fondness for them to come off that way.

“Thank you, Logan,” you said earnestly. Bucky nodded his agreement, blue-grey eyes tumultuous.

He barked out a laugh. “That’s not my real name, y’know.”

You frowned, not in on the joke that had made him laugh. “I wasn’t aware ‘Logan’ was a false name.”

Logan’s grin turned a little smug. “Name’s James.”

That drew a startled laugh out of you and even a glance at Bucky revealed his lip shad turned up in a begrudging smile. “‘Course it is...” he muttered, not quite managing to sound annoyed.

Your laughs quieted after a moment, leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake. Unspoken comments about how rare laughs came these days and how young you sounded when you did hung stale in the air between you, but you put on a small smile. “See you ‘round, Jimmy,” you said, tossing him a wink you hoped was playful and not flirty before turning and heading for the door.

Bucky snorted and you could hear Logan groan. The guys didn’t speak for a second (you were sure you’d be able to hear them through the paper-thin walls if they had), but after a pause, Logan grumbled a “See you, bub,” which was the closest you’d ever heard Logan get to sounding fond when it came to Bucky.

Another pause, then, “Be safe, old man.”

An annoyed grumble. “I only got thirty five years on ya, ya fucking shithead.”

You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. That was so close to how you remembered their interactions being back in the day that it nearly shocked you back seventy years. The sarcastic response you were half expecting didn’t come, however, and Bucky was beside you a moment later, taking his time to lace up his boots carefully while you waited just outside the door, watching the area for any threats.

“Ready to go?” he asked a moment later as he stepped up beside you. His blue-grey eyes searched your face for any flicker of emotion that would set off warning bells, but for the first time in a long time, your head wasn’t a complete mess. Or, at least, you had one burden among hundreds taken from your shoulders.

“Yeah, Buck. Let’s go home.”

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mgrgfan · 7 years

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Some worldbuilding for my fic - Ancient Soris Empire, part 1.

More than 3000 years ago, in the Soris region, there was a great Soris Empire.

Thanks to lack of Apricorns in Soris and low cooperativeness of local Pokemon, as well as abundance of easily-acessed metals and fossil and fissil fuels, Soris people took a technological way of development. Several centuries later, a Soris Empire springs into existence.

Unlike what you will think, this empire, at it’s peak, was pretty diesel/atompunk heavy and most of the electronics were based on higly-advanced vacuum tube technology, though transistors and arcane science devices started to slip in near the end of the empire. They also had nuclear-powered transport, including icebreakers, submarines and even rigid-hull hydrogen-lifted dirigibles!

The single most beloved Pokemon species in the later Soris Empire was introduced Alolan Flygon line, thanks to their weather-adaptational ability (like this of Castform) and great cooperativeness towards humans. Nowadays, these dragons has somewhat diverged from the original line and became Soris Flygons, which, while retaining abilities of their Alolan ancestors, have also gained minor Aura abilities (which they use to locate their prey and as a darkvision of sort) and are constantly migrating from one part of Soris region to another (however, they do this only in small herds, so each part will have some Flygons coming in, some staying and some coming out), so they will not get stuck in one form, like the Hoenn Flygons did. The most prominent changes of Soris Flygons are longer antennaes, which are crucial in Aura reception and are forked in two roughly in the middle, the lower part of antennae being shorter than a upper one, slightly different shape of wings and, surprisingly, more omnivorous digestive system, because such is life in Soris - hard and complicated.

These cute, but powerful insect-dragons were the reason why, after the fall of Soris Empire and subsequent loss of technology, humans has managed to survive in this region and, eventually, rebuild.

One of the greatest achievements of the Empire were Imperial Science Facilites, which were researching lots of things - physics, genetics, chemistry and so on. The main jewel in this crown was Imperial Science Facility 9 - the single biggest and most powerful of this line, which also had early arcane science as a main direction of the research, although not the only. More than 90% of this base were located deep underground to prevent outbreaks and protect it against attacks, when the ground had only a Bioscience Division’s surface labs (mostly for studying extraregional Pokemon), Astronomical Dome, material sorting and transport complexes, as well as some recreational sub-facilities.

This facility was constructed to be self-sustainable and able to survive for centuries without maintenance, if properly conserved. Because of this, the main energy source of this facility was complex of closed-circuit geothermal reactors, which could provide up to 1200MW of electricity and were cooled by the oceanic water, which was pumped from pretty far away, to reduce chances of detecting the facility itself. The secondary energy sources were several nuclear fission reactors, capable of providing up to 900MW each, although two of them were mostly used to empower some of the science equipment directly.

One of the main energy hogs in this facility, as well as in Imperial Science Facility 8, was early arcane science equipment, especially irradiation chamber (in which first Mega Stones and some artificial Evo Stones ever were created) and tseryobla (teleportation device. Why it was named so? Even creators, when they were alive, could barely remember it, because all memories of the night when it happened were way too obscured by the alcohol fumes). One of the most important devices, which were crucial to functioning of the rest of arcane science equipment, were highly advanced two-way energy converters, which could not only turn Pokemon life energy into electricity (like Devon Inc. and some of the Nikola’s devices did), but turn electricity into life energy as well! Because of these converters and abundance of electrical energy (thanks to geothermal and nuclear reactors), facility had no need to use Pokemon as a “fuel”, so, no “Powered by a Forsaken Child” for you! After the fall of the Empire, data on how to create and maintain these converters, as well as most of the converters themselves, was lost, and the only surviving units and documentation are in the sealed away ISF9, which is pretty much guaranteed to finally fall apart in this century. Chances of this facility, and, because of it, technology getting re-discovered and restored are... slim, at best.

It was also the facility in which first artificial mechanical pokemon ever was created. Constructed by one of the leading arcane scientists and named “Chugun” (”Cast-iron”), this guy (psychological gender of the Chugun is male) quickly became intergral part of the personel, because he was truly great at task he was created to do - repairing and maintaining things. Having powerful and resilient body, which was also very easy to repair and modify, Chugun was always ready for performing different jobs - from helping planting tunneling explosives to saving people from the gassed or burning room to working in the operating reactor pool to hermetizing steam mains to soldering electronics and so on. In fact, he was beloved so much, that when one of the revisors came to this facility and ordered to dismantle Chugun, because he thought of him as too dangerous, Dr. Pobegov, which was in charge of the Imperial Science Facility 9, threatened to perform a skull trepanation and subsequent lobotomy on the revisor if he does not shut up. When this revisor reported this to the Emperor, he got following answer: “Imperial Science Facility 9 reports directly to me. You were sent to it to find a problems and report them, not to express your opinions left and right. In fact, I think Dr. Pobegov was right about what to do with you.”

Chugun was also the first sentient, on whom tseryobla was tested, and he has volunteered for this! Of course, some tests were performed beforehand on non-sentients (lab Ratattas, heh), but most of the time, after the tests, workers had to wash entire test lab out of bloody pulp, which was sprayed everywhere. Thankfuly, during the test with Chugun, when tseryobla malfunctioned (yet again), there was only teleport-throwing in random places, including even the Reverse World (Giratina was quite surprised, when she saw strangely-looking glowing mechanical Pokemon briefly appearing and, before she even had a chance to finish her question, vanishing again), for five hours (but for Chugun, it was like five years, though he knew what he has volunteered for), after which, however, entire tseryobla crew was hospitalized because of excessive arcane energy exposure. Thankfully, amount of data, gathered in this experiment, was more than worth it, because it finally allowed to find a safe settings for tseryobla and ensure safe teleportations. Moreover - the required data was gathered in less than an a hour, and the rest of the time was dedicated to stabilizing Chugun in the ISF9′s tseryobla and safely extracting him from the teleportational “vortex”, because if they’ve simply pulled the plug, he would’ve got scattered across the teleportation places - all of them. As you can see from it, they’ve really held him in high regard.

When the Empire was at it’s last days, the ISF9 had undergone conservation procedures and Chugun was tasked with maintaining it until someone comes. For more than a 3000 years he was fulfilling his duty, but now, fuel for nuclear reactors was burned off ages ago, replacements are almost ceased to be, so he is forced to cannibalize whatever he can from reserve systems to maintain main ones in (barely) working condition, the main steam turbine complex, which provides power to the base, has lots of leakages, which he barely manages to patch... To put it in short, right now, base can survive no more than a fifty years on remaining reserves. Chugun understands it, but still continues to do everything he can, hoping, that one day, someone will excavate buried entrances to the facility and restore it to it’s full glory.

However, the last part does not apply to the Shift-verse, where the Empire, instead of Ancient Soris War, got time-shifted 3100 years ahead and, therefore, was never destroyed and even prospered in the new time.

(Funny fact - initially, fic Chugun was created after watching humoristic re-dub of Half-Life 2, called Kayf-Life 2, where Alyx’s Dog robot became, well, Chugun, which was originally created for straightening rails, but, thanks to faulty AI, has escaped from the factory and took refuge in the Budulai’s illegal undeground workshop. Also, Kayf-Life’s Chugun was a champion in throwing trash bins at the distant moving targets, but got disqualified after he has thrown one of the bins at the referee. What’s this all about - after I’ve thought of Chugun, my “train” of ideas has gone like this:

“So, mechanical Pokemon, which looks like it was assembled from the junk, but is pretty powerful and reliable and needs to be called Chugun. How to write it in? Hm, what about Russia-like region? Pretty good idea, actually, but it needs some non-obvious name. Riso? No. Rosi? Definitely no! Soris? That’s great! Hey, but nowadays, no one manufactures Pokemon like this, so, it needs to be ancient! Yes, ancient arcane science Soris mechanical Pokemon. That’s good. But just how ancient? Hm, let’s see... The first traces of arcane science originate back to Ancient Kalos War, AZ had some cool arcane tech... So, more than 3000 years old it is! Also, why not plan it in such a way, that AZ gained some of this tech from one of the crashed airships, which were escaping from the Soris during the Legendaries rampage? I’ll roll with it. And Nikola... Nah, he has developed the arcane technology again without any help from AZ or data from Ancient Soris Empire. Back to Chugun: where would he be created and what for? Let’s think again: he would be great at repairs, he would be first and, unfortunately, only of his kind with some small hope for building new in the modern time... His creator would be one of the arcane scientists from the huge science facility. What this facility would be like? Well, Ancient Soris Empire, as I’ve written in my notes about the underground base beforehand, is already planned to be atompunk, so... Ancient Soris Empire atompunk arcane science-heavy Black Mesa-like facility. That’ll be awesome.”

In short, entire region and ancient empire in it were created just because I thought of backstory of one of the planned characters and origin of the ancient underground complex.)

#mgrgfan does worldbuilding #Ancient Soris Empire #Soris region

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