Claws pressed into his throat, Arun strained his neck back as he felt the points pierce just a millimetre of his flesh. The Weaville holding him captive sneered as he struggled to pull his neck away, but made no further move. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Pran, glaring at their captors but staying rooted to his spot, understanding exactly the type of situation they were in.

“So.” Cyrus said, stepping forward. “Care to tell me what you’re doing here?”

Arun opened his mouth to speak, but was forced back by the Weaville, a low growl emanating from its throat. The claws pushed a few millimetres deeper, causing blood to well up around the points.

“Shit.” He thought, “Pran’s gonna do the talking.”

“We were just after some Pokémon.” His brother said cautiously, his eyes darting between Cyrus and Arun.

“Well. That much is obvious.”

The Galactic Boss’s voice, Arun noticed, was extremely soft. A barely audible whisper, yet he couldn’t help but feel as if the whole world grew quiet as the man spoke, like every word had to be heard and understood.

“Who sent you?” Cyrus asked, as he began to pace slowly, “Who do you work for? How did you know about the Pokémon?”

“Nobody sent us.” Pran replied, all the playfulness usually accompanying his voice long gone. “We’re just a couple of unlucky travellers who heard a few rumours and decided it was worth a shot.”

“Rumours, hm? Ok, let’s try something simple, what are your names?”

“Felis, the one your Weaville is holding hostage is my brother, Sirius.”

Cyrus shook his head slowly, “Now I know you’re lying. Saturn.”

The man accompanying him stepped out from the shadows. Shorter than his boss at maybe 5 '10, Saturn wore a similar jacket to Cyrus, his blue hair pointed up into horns that despite the initial ridiculousness of the sight, somehow managed to fit the man.

“The names Dorothy had said she managed to overhear were Pranav and Arun. They arrived 6 days ago at exactly 7:38 AM, accompanied by a young trainer named Scott.”

“Dorothy? Who the fuck is Dorothy?” Arun thought, his mind reeling. He recalled the week’s events, who he talked to, where he went. Then it clicked. “The City entrance…the tired looking woman.”

“If you were just regular thieves we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Cyrus said nonchalantly. “But we’ve seen what you’re capable of, you don’t hesitate to use brute force, you’re experienced. So I’ll ask again. Who sent you?”

“Nobody.” Pran repeated, a hint of worry entering his voice, “I swear we were acting out on our own.”

Cyrus nodded once to Weaville, and with a grin the creature ripped its claws across Arun’s chest, causing a blinding flash of pain that made him scream. Furious, Arun tried to push forward again, only to be violently thrown back against the crate by Weaville. Gasping for breath, Arun found himself once again struggling to regain his composure.

“Arun!” His brother shouted, trying to dash towards him. A shape flew across the shadows, expertly landing atop Pranav’s back, causing him to crash against the concrete. A Toxicroak rose, its stingers poised at his brother’s neck.

“Listen,” Pran said, in between coughs as he shook himself from the impact. “We made a mistake, yea? I lied earlier because I was scared, it’s habitual. But I swear to you I’m not lying about who sent us, I wouldn't risk him like that.”

Cyrus frowned, thinking for a moment, before nodding his head towards Weaville. The Pokémon pressed his claws into the open wound, and Arun let out a strangled grunt. “Strong motherfucker.” He thought, gripping the Pokémon's arm. Despite holding it back with all his strength, he could just barely stop the one claw from piercing him deeper.

“Fuck I’m not lying!” His brother shouted. “I’m telling you this was my plan! It was the fastest way to get Pokémon without spending the money!”

“So you really were just after some Pokemon then?” Cyrus asked, amused.

“Yes! That’s it!”

“Then where did you learn your skills? That was a full 6 day stakeout. I’ve seen what you can do. Blending in with the crowd, disappearing in large groups, disguising yourself, ambushing my followers. You’re trained, how?”

“We got mixed up with bad people before, that’s it. We either learned or we died.”

Cyrus paced back and forth, as if to confirm something. His eyes flicked to something above them, before resuming his questioning.

“And how did you know about the stolen Pokemon?”

“Rumours, I’m telling you we just overheard whispers, and decided to act on them.”

A heavy silence hung in the air, before Cyrus began again in a low, menacing tone. “The next time you lie.” Cyrus said, the icy glare of his eyes reflecting in the moonlight. “Your brother won’t be alive to hear your screams. Though, perhaps we can get your friend Scott to join us after.”

“No.” Pran's face paled. “Please, Scott is innocent, we barely know him.”

“Then answer.”

“We overheard it from some Grunts, alright? I don’t know their names but they were cocky about it, bragging about how they stole a Pokémon.”

It was a half truth, Arun knew. Somewhere in the game a Grunt probably bragged about stolen Pokémon, at least, that’s what Pran thought. The half-truth worked though, Cyrus’s face turning into a slight frown before he continued his line of questioning.

“Quinn and Leland, were they the ones to tell you?”

“They resisted a lot when we tried to get questions, overheard it from others.”

“Where are you from?”

“Far away from here, a region unknown to most, Canada.”

“Hmm, so not Unovan.”

“We used Unova as an excuse to blend in better. Sinnoh doesn’t…have a lot of people that look like us.”

“And just how exactly did you get here from…Canada?”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“We don’t know. There one day then bam I was here the next.”

His brother continued to answer with half-truths, creating what he stated were ‘guesses’ based on what little information he remembered about the game. It definitely bought time, but there’d be a question where half truths were impossible, and when that happened…well, maybe there’d be another isekai down the road.

"Somebody is fact-checking us." Arun realized, fighting to keep his mind away from the warm pain that clouded his thoughts. Desperate, he extended his senses, before finding his mark. A signature, radiating soft anguish atop the crate Arun was pressed up against.

He reached out. Desperation. Please, help us.

‘How do you speak?’ A voice said, its anguish giving way to slight curiosity. This wasn’t like his normal communication, it was as if something had wormed its way into his head and began speaking to him. The sudden intrusion of his mind caused a headache to immediately bloom, and he grimaced. He couldn’t exactly communicate a complex answer with his empathy, so he stuck to calling out again.

Desperation. They’re hurting us, please

‘I am not one to help thieves,’ The voice said, the curiosity now shifting to mild disgust, ‘What reason do I have to help one villain over another?’

Denial. We saved them! They are free!

'And what of the many injured you carry on your person?'

Assurance. They need healing, they could not escape without.

'Hm.' The voice hummed, as the disgust faded away, 'Perhaps I should help.'

Curiosity. Why do you help them?

‘They lock me away.’ It said, the fear it felt causing Arun’s skin to pale ‘For weeks at a time, they lock me away. I cannot speak to anyone, I cannot see anyone, I am alone.’

Empathy. I’m sorry

Then, questioning. Do you hate them?

It was like standing next to a raging furnace, he almost screamed out loud as a wave of anger burned into Arun’s mind, white hot fury barely leaving the thought that followed coherent. ‘I will sunder their minds into a thousand pieces! I will fix them, rebuild them, then break them again! I will laugh as they beg for forgiveness, and burn their faces into my mind as they see all they love destroyed!’

When the rage subsided, and Arun could finally think again, he reached out once more.

Questioning. Can you trick them?

‘Trick how?’ It asked, even without the empathy, Arun could feel the eagerness of the voice.

Assurance. Tell them we speak true, even if we lie.

A pause, and the signature disappeared, either out of Arun’s range or it closed itself off. “No, no!” He panicked, reaching out further and further, sending out different pings trying to grab its attention. No use, it was gone…or it refused to continue speaking to him.

“What is our goal?” Cyrus asked.

Pran’s eyes briefly flicked over to Arun, still holding back Weaville's arm. “W-what?”

“What. Is. Our. Goal?”

“This is it,” Arun thought. Either the psychic would lie for them, or it wouldn’t.

“I don’t…I don’t know. You guys do myth right? History and technology, something like that?”

The pause that followed was brief, but every millisecond that went by felt like a lifetime. The sounds of distant waves and the creaking of the dock was all that filled the air as Cyrus stared down at his brother.

“It appears you are just simple thieves after all.” He said, his voice somewhat disappointed “Well, at least this makes it easier. Weaville, get rid of them.”

“Wait, what? Hey!” Pran shouted, as Toxicroak shoved him back down into the concrete.

Arun’s heart pounded in his chest as he desperately clung to Weaville’s arm, using every ounce of his strength to prevent the creature’s sharp claws from piercing his heart. The look in its eyes was chilling, a sickening sense of dread creeping up within him as he realized that this was more than just business - it was relishing in his struggle. With a horrible squelch, the claws sank, though only a couple inches, it was enough for him to let out a strangled cry.

“Shit.” He thought, “Shitshitshithshitshitshit”

“Dialga!” his brother called out, causing Cyrus to pause. “You want names right? You want information on the legendaries? Palkia? Giratina? That’s the stuff you research right?”

The boss of Galactic raised his arm, and with a scowl Weaville pulled back, leaving Arun gasping for breath, he was lucky, any closer and the wound would have been fatal..

“How do you know the names of Sinnoh and their spirits?”

“I know a lot more than just names.” Pranav said, a hint of relief in his voice “I can get you locations, lore, typings and everything else you need. But I’m not telling you shit while we’re being held like this.”

“Well, I can’t exactly let you go now, can I?” Cyrus replied, with an amused look on his face.

“Then work with us yea? Or rather, let us work for you, let us join Galactic.”

Silence…and then Cyrus began to laugh. It began as a soft chuckle, but grew in intensity, eventually becoming a booming laugh that echoed across the docks.

“You…you want to join us?” He said finally, wiping away tears, “What makes you think I’d even consider ever letting you join?”

“You’ve seen us, haven’t you?” Pran asked, trying, but unsuccessfully moving Toxicroak’s needle away, “We’re resourceful! We’re veterans in going places we don’t belong, taking things that aren’t meant to be taken. Think about it, we broke into your headquarters without Pokémon. We took down about a dozen Grunts in open conflict. Hell, we defeated your two guard boys with baby Pokémon! Imagine what we could do with a properly developed team!”

Cyrus had now fully turned back to the brothers, his features growing more and more thoughtful as Pran spoke. “And exactly why would I need men of your particular…talents?”

“We overheard your grunts. We know what’s going down. I don’t know who Team Chronos is, or what they want, but I know you need men who can do more than just battle. You need spies, infiltrators, people with a wide array of skills, people who are off the grid, like us.”

“And what’s stopping you from turning on me after? From going to the authorities and bringing the whole league down on us?”

This time, it was Pran’s turn to laugh, a harsh bark that barely lasted a second. “You think I don’t know what happens to traitors? Come on man, just look at the stuff you got going on. You’ve probably been doing this operation for years, there must have been a couple rats. And despite that, you’re still standing, still Sinnoh’s corporate face.”

“And what about you? What’s stopping you?”

“There’s nothing left for us in Canada.” Pran said with a bitter smile, “Our home was destroyed a long time ago, nobody left except a couple of strays fighting for scraps. Before we were sent here we were dead men already. I don’t give a shit about the law, about order or goals or any of that bull. I just want a good life, I want to make my fortune with my brother. If you can give us that, then what reason do I have to turn on you?”

The Boss of Galactic’s gaze remained locked onto Pran as he finished his speech, the silence only broken by Arun’s laboured breathing. Finally, the Boss reached into his coat pocket, tossing an object at Arun, who deftly caught it as Weaville moved out of the way.

He looked down, staring at the small yellow pear shaped berry in his hand.

“That’s a Sitrus berry, eat up, we’ll have you examined shortly.” Cyrus said. “Saturn, get some grunts to escort them to the medical bay.”

“Does that mean…?” Pran asked, carefully sitting up as Toxicroak stepped off him.

“Welcome to Team Galactic boys.”

His brother sighed, all the tension in his body deflating as the toad Pokémon leapt back, rejoining Saturn’s side.

“Thank you.” He breathed. “We won’t disappoint.”

Cyrus said nothing, simply turning and heading down the steps the brothers had come from, leaving the two alone, at least, temporarily.

“Fuck.” Pran said, exhaustion choking his voice as flopped down next to Arun. “Fuck, I thought we were gonna die.”

Arun chewed on the Sitrus berry, which, surprisingly, was very tasty, although difficult to enjoy as the feeling of his skin knitting itself back together was incredibly distracting.

“I hate you so, so much.” Arun finally said as the effects finished.

“Dude, I got us Pokemon and a job. You should be fucking praising me.”

Arun smacked him.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m surprised you didn’t question me, Saturn.” Cyrus said, as they walked through the basement halls.

“There are times when I think a decision is incorrect, and others when I think risks are necessary, sir.” His right hand replied, professional as always, “Despite their…use of violence, I believe they’ll be necessary for taking out our competitors.”

He smiled softly, Saturn was a good aide, and a good man, loyal to his core.

“Hmm, they show a particular aptitude for battles as well. They will definitely be a great threat to us in the future if left unchecked.”

“Then I believe we simply get rid of them as soon as their use runs out, sir. One doesn’t keep a weapon after war.”

“And of their story? Alakazam stated that they weren’t lying.”

“It just proves that our vision, your vision must become reality. Destruction on a regional scale…that is…disturbing, to say the least.”

He nodded silently, before stepping through the teleporter, finding Wilbur and Tyler standing at attention, having been recently unbound.

“At your service, sir!” The two saluted.

“At ease, file your report to Jupiter then heal your Pokémon and yourselves. Dismissed.”

They saluted once more, rushing back through the teleporter and vanishing from sight.

“They really defeated them.” Saturn murmured, both concerned and impressed.

“We’ll get the details later. For now I need you to call the other Admins, we must begin planning our move as soon as possible.”

“Right away sir, good night.”

Cyrus watched him go, before finally letting himself yawn. He was exhausted. The outcome of the night…he was glad he didn’t have to kill again, even if it meant more work. The escaped Pokémon would definitely have made some noise, he’d have to act fast, find his contacts, suppress as much as he could, create answers for those still looking. That was fine, the thieves would be useful, a wildcard, he’d squeeze every last drop of usefulness from them in order to help build a new universe.

His new Universe.