The last bell of the century has sounded.

The shadows are hazy, and the last demon hunter is chasing the out-of-control werewolf.

The blood moon is in the sky, and the ancient vampires are preparing to welcome the return of their ancestor.

Shrouded in fog, Little Red Riding Hood in Storybrooke is looking for the descendants of Grimm.

Wizards walked out of Hogwarts, "The damned mudbloods are usurping the glory of purebloods."

Groudon tore through the ground, "The thugs from Azkaban are on a killing spree."

Kyogre stirred the waves, "A new Dark Lord is about to ascend the throne."

Rayquaza pierced the sky, "Great Wizard King, Builder of the White Tower, Swordmaster of Gryffindor, Paris respectfully welcomes you."

Allen touched Arceus beside him. The sixteen tablets of creation radiated eternal light. "I'm just a training master who does this out of interest."