Doctor Doom looked at the Psyduck with undisguised interest. Doom did not care if this Pokemon was supposed to be his opponent; he was fascinated by what the creature’s cellular structure must look like under a microscope. Its psychic powers not unlocked by mental stress like Doom was accustomed to, but by physical pain. Nay, physical trauma that should have killed the little duck only made it more powerful. It was outliers like this that made Doom drive forward in his conquest of this world. There were secrets to uncover, so very many secrets. When all and said was done, all of those secrets would be nothing more than another well of knowledge for Doom to draw from at his leisure.
Doom, however, was currently dissatisfied with the situation at hand. For the secrets of this particular world were not yet his, nor was the duck in front of him. It belonged to another. A lesser being. Doom would have spared Misty a glance at this thought if Doom felt she was worth the effort. He didn’t. Instead he looked at his own Pokemon and noticed the Kingler seemed a bit shaken by the display of psychic powers. This was why it hadn’t proven worthy of a name yet. It had not distinguished itself from others of its species. It would have been disappointing if Doom had held any irrational hope for this particular Kingler to be a standout. He had not.
“Kingler. Hesitation in battle is unacceptable. So don’t.”
Kingler took the words for the warning they were and quickly lashed out at the Pokemon in front of him, only to be sent hurling back the moment Psyduck noticed his advance. Kingler smashed into the wall behind Doom with a sickening sound. Doom felt no need to turn around; he already knew the result of the encounter. Kingler had failed.
Doom kept his eyes on Psyduck while he waited for some inane comment from Misty, as she liked to do any time one of her Pokemon did anything of minor achievement. When the comment did not come Doom turned his attention to her and, now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, could see that her eyes were glazed over as if she were in a trance. Doom chuckled and turned back to the Psyduck.
“Doom sees the servant surpasses the master. How quaint.”
Psyduck’s head slowly turned towards Doom. Then it spoke in a deep, resounding voice that Doom faintly recognized was in his mind.
Fool. I am beholden to no one. I am an ancient being trapped inside of this weak, pathetic creature. How one such as I ended up in this pathetic vessel I am unaware, all I know is the cravings of battle which draw me to the surface of this cesspool last only a fleeting moment. I should crush you where you stand, mortal. You may refer to me as Duck, and I accept gifts of gold, pearls, and donuts.
Doom tilted his head. That spiel sounded oddly familiar. He wondered how many cosmic beings out there had a fondness for birds. Before Doom could question the entity about, well, anything, the room brightened and Psyduck’s eyes returned to normal.
Doom’s ears were then assaulted by the sound of Misty yelling excitedly on the other platform, having noticed Kingler knocked out.
“Whoohooo! Go Psyduck! I knew you could do it!” She said, unashamed by the fact that only moments prior she would have given anything to recall her Pokemon.
Doom spared a glance to his fallen Pokemon and recalled it back to its Pokeball. Doom had learned long ago that every grand experiment needed its fair share of failures before perfection could be obtained. Doom didn’t think Kingler would appreciate what he thought of even necessary failure, however.
It involved boiling water.