The swirling wind whistled through Mankey's shabby fur as he clung to the bare steel scaffold high above. The streets below hummed with the sounds of machines. He could feel in his lungs how the city festered with the stench of corruption and deceit, politicians taking bribes to look the other way, crime syndicates infiltrating the justice system.
Children sat in schools learning of indecent things. Teachers were bloated, feckless drones pumping out the diatribe of the machine. Education was not for learning, it was for indoctrination into the ways of the system. The broken system.
Overpopulation had destroyed the integrity of the sanctity of marriage, copulation ran amok amongst the underclass who pumped out screaming infant after screaming infant, looking only for those with the perfect traits the state desired, the rest abandoned in the streets to die. He was one of those rejected children, his nature just “wasn't right” as the doctor had said. Well who was in the wrong now?
The rulers sought to infect the 'perfect' children with Pokerus, to control their growth, their minds, their emotions. Who needed creativity when you had a disciplined ruthless killing machine willing to do the government's bidding? The armed forces swelled like an infected wound, preparing for conflict.
There was no future for these doomed souls. This was a city beyond redemption, it could not be repaired.
But it could be cleansed.
Mankey looked down at the device clutched in his left palm, a small black cube with a single red button on one surface. The trigger. When it was pressed, it would set off the chain reaction of explosive devices in the sewers that would tear the city asunder. Buildings would be left as burning twisted piles of metal, the roads would melt from the heat of the flames, the oil refinery would form a particularly spectacular feat, launching shrapnel miles away.
Everything would perish. From the most brutal of officials to the tiniest of infants, there was no hope for any of them. They needed this as much as he did. This was the only way for them to be free. Someone would find the remains of the ruined city, they could start it fresh. By then, he would be far away.
“This is what you deserve. This is what you crave. You did this to me. You made me who I am. I am the harbinger of your destiny. I am the vessel through which your fate will be delivered. You are all nothing but empty husks. Without me, your ascension is impossible.”
He paused. There was a noise behind him. He gripped the scaffold with his tail for added stability and turned 180 degrees to face what he had heard. Perched perilously on the steel was a Drifloon, she was smiling at him.
“Hi!” beamed the Drifloon, “whatcha doin?”
Mankey's eyes rolled. He turned back to face the city.
“Beat it kid. There are bigger things at play here than you're even capable of understanding. Just go home.”
“But I don't have a home...” the Drifloon sadly whispered, “but why are you so grumpy anyway?”
“I'm not 'grumpy'. I am sick of these abhorrent bastardisations and what they have done to me. They cast me out on the streets like they did you to. They made me the monster I am.” Mankey grunted. His nostrils flared and he spat down at the city.
“You use big words. You're funny!” grinned Drifloon, “Do you want to be friends?”
“Friends? Friends are an artificial concept created to stop us acting on our primal instincts. Besides, I don't need friends where I'm going.” Mankey leaned over the edge of the Scaffold, facing vertically downwards, the trigger still clasped tightly in his hand.
“Oh? Are you going somewhere nice? Like a vacation?” Drifloon pondered for a moment.
Mankey laughed, but not a laugh of joy, more of derision. “Yeah kid, a real long vacation. Somewhere I'll never be disturbed again. Free from the incompetent oligarchy that has gnawed away at the values of this city and caused it to rot to the core.”
“I don't know what that means but it sounds fun! Can I come with you?” Drifloon edged closer to Mankey.
Mankey turned to look Drifloon in the eye. “Kid, you obviously don't understand. In my hand there is a trigger. When I press it, it will set off a bomb. That bomb will destroy everything in this city. It will kill everyone. They all deserve it. I am going to kill them all for what they did to me. For what they did to every baby who was thrown out into the alleyway to die.”
Drifloon was shocked. Tears fell from her eyes. Mankey raised a fist to the sky, ready to press the button.
“No!” screamed Drifloon as she reached out and grabbed the primate's arm with her tassels, wrapping them around the arm securely. The grip tightened, Mankey's hand was being forcibly opened by the pressure on the muscles.
“I must do this,” roared the Mankey, flailing at the balloon pokemon with his free arm and tail.
“I can't let you hurt my friends,” cried Drifloon as she took off into the open sky, holding tightly to the Mankey. But only for a moment.
The pair began to descend rapidly, the weight of the Pig Monkey was too much for the young balloon. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make. She closed her eyes and awaited the inevitable impact.
Mankey realised what was going on, she was going to kill herself to stop him. He tried to detonate the trigger but his stubby digits were unable to close on the button. The small red protrusion was teasing him, he was inches away from his salvation but it was just out of reach. He reached for the device with his tail, hoping to just knock the button and put an end to it all.
He knocked it loose. The small black cube came free from his hand and was now falling beside him. He batted at it with his tail, trying to pull it towards him, but instead launched it directly at Drifloon's face.
Startled, Drifloon's eyes shot open to see what had just hit her, she saw the black cube falling away from her face and smiled. Then she realised what she had just accomplished. She had saved the city. She raised her tassels in celebration.
Her empty tassels.