198 A video to remember
Karlo's music video began to play, it was pitch black for several seconds, suspense building up.
PA!
A light suddenly turned on shining down on a person sitting down on a stool, his orange hair and purple eyes made him stand out that much more. He had an ultra-ball in his hand and a smile on his face.
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Simon, Alex and Fiona followed right after with their own videos. Fiona got a lot of attention because of her beauty, the song was a very slow acoustic piece, dancers came in, and the contrast of light made her look like an angel amidst the monotonous background.
As the video ended people waited expectantly for the fifth one, knowing full well who it was going to be, the dark horse. Was he going to show his face?
Comments were flying in constantly as they yelled, pleading to quickly put it on. Each video had successfully stirred different emotions within the audience, and they were craving more of it now.
The video began with only a pitch-black screen reflecting the excited faces of the viewers.
The desolate blue sky full of haze seemed to be mourning. Lightning streaked across the skies amidst the thick clouds.
Many silhouettes on the surface were running. Hurried and brief drumbeats perfectly reflected the tense atmosphere radiating off the screen, palpable to the audience. In between the brief drumbeats, a female voice began to sing as symphonic music and opera combined in the background. Some modern musical styles like EDM were blended in as well, giving off a wild and primitive vibe, as if ready to strike. In the music video, the scene of a prelude to battle unfolded with the two sides at a standoff.
With the horrific crises of Pokémon everywhere, the building tension was surging and billowing, threatening to overflow.
A figure leapt into the sky, like an eagle soaring through the clouds. At a glance, a Machamp, seemingly turning into a comet gave off the impression of raw and explosive power barely contained beneath the surface ready to blow up at any moment
With one foot, the falling figure trampled on the Blastoise at the front of the opposing group before brutally raining down blows from his boulder-like fists.
Explosive drum beats, combined with the crackling electronic music, sounded like crisp claps of thunder.
It was not the sound produced from the instruments but rather the image and temperament that resonated with the viewers who, in turn, produced that thunder-like sound in their own hearts.
Soil and sweat splattered in all directions. Some splashed onto the giant Pokémon's face in between his eyes. This diverted the attention of the viewers to his eyes.
That pair of eyes radiated immense battle aura. Akin to the violent fury of a ferocious beast shaken awake from its slumber.
A bone-chilling sensation crept down the spines of the viewers witnessing this scene.
The shrill blare of a brass instrument signalled a variation as the string melody increased its vigour. The intense and frantic beats of the timpani portrayed an unyielding spirit.
Frantic alternating of the brass rhythm and woodwind variations set a fierce and intense tone of confrontations and close quarter combat. The immense and visually stunning images, coupled with the perfectly synced accompaniment, continuously battered the hearts and souls of the viewers.
The four-armed asura and the impenetrable shelled bastion collided violently against the dark and gloomy sky.
Despite it being a virtual image, it brought about a realistic and overwhelming sense of suffocation that transcended common sense.
Like the calm after a storm, the intensity of the music receded. Ethereal sounds of a zither interweaving with the soothing flute gave the flustered spirits of listeners a moment to relax. This was a time for peace.
The two split for a moment, huffing and puffing, sweat and blood apparent on their faces and body.
For a moment they reverted back to their cute baby forms, happily fighting without a care in the world.
The image and score induced a feeling of warmth in people's hearts.
With this sort of backdrop, it seemed as if a scene of peace and stability was about to unfold.
But for those watching the projection, they understood through the music that peace without war was never truly peace, that happiness without sadness is merely a distorted reality, an illusion.
This temporary period of peace was not the conclusion but a foretelling of the explosive finale that was to come.
The music switched to a melancholy cello solo.
The two Pokémon fought alongside each other, going through countless trials and tribulations, growing together, relying on each other in order to stand tall for the prosperity of their families against the tyrannical rule oppressing them into the ground.
They shared laughs, joys, sadness and despair, holding onto each other in the depths of winter, and playing in the water to cool off from the blistering sun.
In the projection, two small Pokémon stood silently amidst infinite mountains and plains gazing longingly at the heavens. Under the night sky adorned with stars, the magnificent aurora was like a bright and flickering flame lighting up the dark.
The beating of a drum seemed to increase its intensity in layers, as if to emphasize a steadfast conviction.
The image slowly faded and replaced with the figures of Machamp and Blastoise standing were they once stood all those years ago, when they vowed to become the strongest versions of themselves, to protect their friends and family.
The flickering aurora gradually dissipated as night turned to day.
Without any hint of reluctance, the two Pokémon turned around to leave, each heading in opposite directions. Their backs full of scars. Nobody but themselves knew that there was not a lot left in them. The next injury might be the last they could take before collapsing. Such was the burden they had to bear all those years.
Machamp was welcomed home by his kind, Machops running around, swinging their fists joyfully without care. The elderly were playing with them happily, lifting them up and swinging them around. He was embraced by his wife and children.
Months went by until the fated day arrived.
Seeing their chief walk towards the gate, the Machamps' who were playing with the kids halted, and gently placed the innocent children on the ground.
Even the elderly did so too, one of them tapping the forehead of the younger generation with his two fingers to prevent them from following.
As he walked away, he exchanged fist bumps with his fellow comrades, the last vestiges of fighting spirit embedded in their chuckles as they followed their leader out of the village. He never once turned around, scared that he could not leave if he did so.
The young children were puzzled observing the leaving figures. This was a safe place. The world outside was fraught with dangers. Why was everyone still leaving?
The departing figures increased, joining the ranks of the leaving. All that was left were those old and weak who were incapable of continuous combat.
A quick-paced string medley played, and paired with a unique sequence of electronic music, it set a tense atmosphere foreboding combat.
The aerial view of the numerous figures against the background of the now snow-covered land formed a long, snaking line. The numbers were so great that it was not possible to see where the line began.
A loud horn sounded along with the vigorous beats of the timpani. The increasing tempo and intensity washed away any downcast feelings. Alongside the dampening from the double bass and the woodwind score, the accompanying singing grew in stature. Just like the scene of the leaving procession, it was a display of extreme determination.
Contained within was an immeasurable strength and will to push forward.
The volume of the chorus gradually increased as the footage the home of the Machamp, crossing over mountains and hills.
The rustling and flapping sounds made listeners imagine a harsh and chilly wind. In the projection, a greyish blue figure was rushing across the land in leaps and bounds. In a flash, coming face to face with his old friend and now foe Machamp, Blastoise raised his steel like arm and swung downwards, as if swinging an axe. Throwing caution to the wind, with an unrestrained fury, the two collided and fought for what would be their final time.
The combination of explosive sounds and music was a constant barrage to the ears.
Freed of any apprehension, the two sides gave into their unbridled and frantic madness and clashed against each other.
A fierce wind swept through the silhouettes of Pokémon in the fight for survival. Viewers could apparently even feel every impact as they flinched, tears welling up in their eyes as they watched on. The wanted to protest, why did they have to fight? Why couldn't they become friends?
The thundering timpani was followed by a frantic clash of acoustics. The arrangement that ensued was complicated. An amalgamation of classical symphonies, church music, electronic music, even a military march amongst many other contrasting musical styles. It was as if a volcano that had been dormant for millions of years had suddenly erupted, triggering a tidal wave that could blanket the entire world.
The principal colour of the footage had gradually changed from a stifling blue to a brilliant yellow glow, the colour of the sun shining through a layer of clouds, the brilliance of an intense blaze. The brightness of the projection had doubled since the beginning of the projection and was getting stronger.
"When are living beings able to shine so brightly?
When one has a burning desire."
The projection faded slowly as the two old acquaintances finally let go of the last wisp of vitality within them as the deeply moving symphony came to an end.
The screen went black, and a line of text appeared before the audiences' eyes.
[The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him]
A deep male voice gently rose from the darkness giving direction to the audience's sense of loss.
"Battles bring us together; it is a way of honouring the sacrifices our ancestors made that allowed us to live the way we do. It allows us to express ourselves, to scream towards the high heavens, releasing the pent-up desires within us as we strive to reach new heights.
Those are the types of battles worth watching. That is art!"
The outline of a man soon came into focus. His head was blurred and distorted, but a clean black suit with a small red rose in his breast pocket was clearly visible before a white hand pierced through the darkness stretching towards the audience invitingly.
"Do you wish to experience this? Come… join me. Welcome… to my Pokémon world!
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AN: What did you think? The league is literally within the next two chapters or so. Get HYPE!
