The transport carrying Desmond and the few selected trainers that came with him was full of talk about the bouts ahead. Everyone was obviously worried about what they might end up having to do in order to help the world as a whole. The only quiet one was Desmond, who was starring out at the terrifying battleground. He wasn't looking forward to the task ahead either, and wasn't sure on how to handle it. Death? Was that truly the answer? He had read reports on the behavior of the Pokemon controlled by The End Cult, their vicious power reminded Desmond of Shadow Pokemon. He knew he would have to encounter them in order to further come to a conclusion, but for the moment he had a fairly firm belief that he might be able to save the Pokemon on the opposing force, at least. 

But he needed one of them. Alive. To transfer back to Orre, to Michael and Professor Krane. If these were Shadow Pokemon, then they could possibly be purified and returned to normal. It was being overly hopeful, yes. But Desmond was known for being that way, ever since he was a child. Listening to the banter between his comrades, he finally decided to speak up, starting off with a rather disrupting cough. The four trainers sat in attention, having a firm respect for Desmond, as the man stood and looked at them with his tired eyes.

"Alright. The situation we are dealing with here is very severe, and very dangerous for us. I expect for you all to listen to those around you, and to not go off on your own trying to be a hero. I don't want anything happening to you, and neither do your families. If you have any questions, you should ask before we land. I'm sure we'll be moving rather quickly, and we may end up being put into different groups." He waited for a moment, noticing the tallest man on the aircraft, the #5 of Mt. Battle, David Rustler, raise his hand. "Yes, David?"

"So... We haft'a kill? Can't we take 'em in peaceful or somethin'?"

"I wish we could. They already tried bringing them in before, and they continued attempting to harm anyone who came into reach. They aren't willing to stop, and you shouldn't be either, David." Desmond felt bad for the man, David was just a 22 year old farm-boy who enjoyed battling with his combination of Ground, Water, and Grass Types. He had a golden heart, and it hurt Desmond to bring him along. But he insisted, and Desmond knew he would be helpful with his large stature and overall good battling skills.

"Ah get'cha. Don't you worry 'bout me none, Ah'll be fine... Ah think." David muttered, before going quiet.

Desmond nodded slowly, before another hand was raised. This time it was by #3, a peppy young girl by the name of Hibiki, a skilled martial artist, and user of Fighting-Type Pokemon. "So, like, is the world REALLY going to end?! How is that possible?!"

"I... Don't know." Desmond admitted. "I haven't gathered that much information yet. I'm sure we'll be better informed once we are on the ground. Even if the world didn't end, these people have killed innocents, and have taken control and are manipulating Pokemon. They must be stopped."

"Manipulating Pokemon? How?" Asked #4, an Ice-Type trainer by the name of Perdey. He was dressed very well, wearing a purple suit and a top hat that just shouted how he was wealthy, having been a rather important man in Realgam Tower. The richest of the five, most certainly. But he was a good man, if not a show off at times. 

"Apparently some kind of Pokeball is used to corrupt them. There isn't much information on them, but they are dangerous. When this ends, we'll be destroying every last one of these Pokeballs." Desmond replied, offering a small smile from his tired face. He had been up for a awhile, having been doing a lot of studying. He had an idea about how to capture the Pokemon, an old device Professor Krane created called the Snag Machine. It turned normal Pokeballs into Snag Balls when thrown, and could be used to capture the Pokemon of other people. It was used to collect Shadow Pokemon during the second epidemic. Of course, giving the overwhelming strength of these corrupted Pokemon, the device used before was too weak. They began constructing a better model only days before Desmond's leave. It wouldn't be ready for awhile, and even when it was, he wouldn't be able to get it for a few more days, to a week... And it still possibly wouldn't work.

"Do you have a question, Noll?" Desmond asked #2 on Mt. Battle, the trainer right below him in the ranking, and user of Psychic Type Pokemon. The boy shook his head, being the youngest trainer here, but one of the most impressive. Desmond nodded at his silence, before going back to his seat. 

"We'll be landing shortly. Prepare yourselves, as we don't know what's ahead for us. And please, for my sake, and the families back home... Be careful."

[B]"Yes sir!"[/B]