"Run!" That was the only word he clearly understood in the chaos that was unfolding in front of him. The male voice that shouted this one commanding word seemed foreign and yet so familiar that he couldn't discern who it was.

It was strange to him, but these thoughts were quickly cut off.

"Tyyraaan"

It was the challenging roar of a Tyranitar, and the ground shuddered a little as the mighty roar sounded through the small forest in which the small camp was set up.

"Mark! Run!" This time, the voice was female, and it seemed desperate, wanting for him to survive whatever was going on. His body reacted almost immediately, following the instruction of the woman that felt nearly alien to him, but also weirdly enough very important, considering the fact that he had no memory of ever meeting the woman or the man. Again, his thoughts were interrupted as the ground shook harshly; as he kept running, he fell two or three times, quickly getting back up and continuing to run, as his mind told him that he didn't have the time to check for injuries.

Maybe nearly seconds after Mark leaves the forest running and the soil under his shoes starts transitioning into hard stone, a big fireball flies over the tree canopy and into the direction he was running. Though unexpected, it was a good help for him to quickly decide which way was the safest along this rocky terrain. The moonlight couldn't illuminate much of this vast mountain range, so every bit of light was welcome.

Then there were screams, horribly painful and excruciating screams, they weren't human, but they made his heart ache. Part of him wanted to run back and help, as no one should ever have to experience so much pain, but the shout of the woman still rang in his head, so he kept running. Running probably isn't the right word anymore; the rugged and rocky terrain made it nigh impossible to run; fast walking or slow jogging would be a more accurate description of how he was progressing. The near-utter darkness, except for an occasional fire attack that flew over his head, made it even harder to traverse the landscape.

Abruptly, the pain-filled screams stopped, silenced, given the mercy of a quicker death. His thoughts sent shivers down his spine, death was always a companion wherever one went, but this time was different. It was the first time he had to witness death.

He kept on going, his feet carrying him over the rough terrain. The adrenaline in his body was starting to dissipate, and with the cold and thin air, it was getting hard to breathe; his fingers already felt numb, and a small sense of dread was slowly creeping over him. The noise of the fight that was happening behind him was starting to die down, but something about it didn't sit right with him, so he continued walking.

"Tyyraanitaaar"

After what felt like an eternity, but maybe rather a few minutes, he heard the victorious roar of the Tyranitar from earlier. The chaos from earlier was deathly silent, along with his current surroundings; everything felt still; it didn't sit right with him. This made him panic, he didn't know the Tyranitar, but the strange sense of familiarity that he had when thinking about the man and woman was missing with the Tyranitar.

The realization hit him like a boulder, they had lost. It was hard for him to accept and it made his situation worse. He could only run, hoping that the Tyranitar wouldn't follow. It made him sick that he couldn't do anything.

Tears started to roll down the sides of his face; he couldn't explain why; he felt sad like a part of him was destroyed. It tore his mind apart, but he kept going. He wanted to survive, he must survive... for them... that would be the least he could do...

His mind was going numb, he wanted to keep going, he wanted to press on, but his body was starting to feel stiff; he couldn't go much further. Mark was tired; part of him wanted to just fall over and sleep, and the other wanted to go on and find help.

"Ow," Mark fell onto the hard rocks, only managing to catch himself in the last second before his head could hit the ground. He had scraped his hand, and as he looked down, the numbness in his hands was quickly erased by the stinging pain of the many cuts that were all over his hands. There also was a small hole in the right side of his pants, but other than making his right knee feel a little colder, it wasn't much of an issue to him. Mark could only keep on going.

The cold and tiredness were getting to him; Mark could feel the sluggishness in his feet, nearly falling here and there as he stepped on loose rocks. The wind that started to set in wasn't of much help to his situation either, cold air was rushing into his face, it kept him awake, but it also made him feel much colder.

Around him, the rocky terrain was getting steep and the wind harsher by the minute, although he kept pressing on, Mark's gut feeling told him that soon he'd reach the end of what he could manage. His knees were weak, and the tiredness was only worse; every step Mark took was a miracle that he hadn't already collapsed.

After what felt like many hours to him, which may have been only a few dozen minutes for the rest of the world, his gut feeling came true. He couldn't keep on going. It was too dark and the moon wasn't there anymore, maybe a cloud had moved in front of it, Mark couldn't really tell. His legs were too heavy; they felt like someone had strapped anvils to them, and all in all, he felt cold, incredibly cold. His sheer will could only get him so far.

Collecting all his strength, Mark managed to take another step. The rock under his foot made a cracking noise, as soon as he started put his weight onto it. He couldn't react fast enough due to being so exhausted, so along with the boulder, gravity dragged him down the now, near vertical cliff.

The icy air that was rushing against his face was the only thing that made his extremely tired self realize that he was falling. Mark felt his instincts telling him to try and roll off on ground contact to minimize the damage, but he thought he'd be lucky if he even managed not to die on impact, with sluggishly his body reacting.

With a loud thoud the big rock rammed into the soft ground below, making a little crater around itself. Mark would have sighed in relief if not for falling so fast and being so incredibly exhausted. Softer ground was better to land on the rocky surface that he had been standing on before.

He didn't fall long, maybe 8 or 9 meters. That didn't make a difference during his landing, he managed to roll off a little, distributing the impact force over his lower body and arms. It was painful, he would have screamed and cried if he had the strength for it, but he was fading in and out of consciousness. His will to live was the only thing keeping him from drifting away. He had multiple broken bones in his right arm alone, as he used it to bear much of the impact and now it was twisted in an inhumane way, which probably wasn't good. His legs, for that matter, looked ok from the outside, but they didn't feel that way. The pain coming from them was still immense, even his chest was painful, even though he hadn't landed on it.

The pain made Mark feel like he didn't want to live anymore. Now, the embrace of unconsciousness felt more like a soothing and welcoming embrace than a sinister monster wanting to swallow him whole. Even though the was coming out of the clouds, Mark's vision was blackening.

Before slipping away into unconsciousness, he saw a small floating Pokemon rushing towards him, it was holding a black and red flower. The small Pokemon seemed worried and a little shy, but it was trying to help and didn't seem to have any bad intentions.

Mark soon after felt warmer, and the was a little lessened. It wasn't much, but every single bit of relief was welcome. He managed to smile as a small thank you at the little Pokemon, as it tried to help him.

The last thing Mark heard before he slipped away into unconsciousness was a shy and quiet

"Flo-Floette?"

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