1:03 P.M. June 15, Tuesday, 106 PH (Post Hoopa Event)
Events: The start of the 2nd week in the Joint Kanto and Johto Indigo Summer League Preliminaries. The last Days of Rest after the previous week’s battles. One day after Ho-Oh healed everyone.
Rhea sat in the back of the Rocket limo with Lyra, Lori, Amira, and their Pokémon driving through traffic to make it to the Viridian Gym. There wasn’t a center table in the vehicle which allowed their Pokémon and them a lot of legroom.
The city was packed between everything that was happening with the League, and the grid had been in a constant flux after the Ho-Oh incident, family, friends, and researchers flying in from around the world to see those that were cured. Businesses were being overrun with the rapid increase in population, mixed with the Skull invasion; they’d increased shipments in advance to prepare for the Summer Cup, but it didn’t seem to be enough when the streets were locked up.
In short, they were in a city-sized traffic jam, and it had been a bit exhausting.
Mya had fallen asleep in her pokeball while Nova stayed out; Gables, Miky, Lori’s Impidimp, Amber, and Holly, Amira’s Comfey, were taking the time to get to know each other. Amber and Gables were trying to teach Miky the proper time to prank people or have fun and when to chill.
Miky had calmed down a lot, intimidated after unsuccessfully trying to scare Lyra’s Azumarill, sitting beside her … at least, that was the Champion’s explanation as to why the little imp ended up hiding beside Lori. The sweet and large 5’4 Azumarill was taking the seat beside Lyra, listening to the conversations the small Pokémon had.
Lyra released a low groan, staring out of the window with a bored expression, causing Rhea to giggle.
“Hmm?” The woman asked, a small smile brightening her lips and drawing everyone’s attention to Rhea.
Rhea brushed back a loose lock of her hair, shifting in her chair to a better angle; the cracking of the leather seats made her a bit self-conscious. “Oh, I just had the thought that … well, in your head, you were debating whether it would be easier to deal with the Police again or teleport us to the Gym.”
Amira sighed, rolling her eyes, her gaze returning to the stopped cars and packed sidewalks through the window. “She probably was…”
“Guilty!” Lyra chimed, giving them a sheepish grin. “I used to teleport around everywhere,” she huffed, folding her arms with a slight pout, “and then they had this whole ‘security risk’ thing and ‘stopping criminal activity’ thing. They actually made it illegal, too … I have to pay a fee every time I do it … or at least get caught, so Zelri and I have had to get more tricky…” She snickered.
Lori shifted her skirt to the side with an interested grin, vision darting between the Pokémon between them in the long, open limo space and Lyra. “Oh, you found a loop-hole? Nice!”
Lyra’s brown eyes twinkled as she sat forward, and Zelri popped back out of her pokeball without even being called, separated into pieces floating in the air; she presented the Porygon-Z with a bright expression. “Tada! Isn’t she awesome!”
“Mmh … I’m not following,” Rhea mumbled, eyeing the spinning Pokémon, separating into pieces to show off and drawing the attention of the other Pokémon. “I mean, yeah, she’s probably one of the strongest Porygon-Zs in the world, but…”
“Yeah,” Lori followed up, “how does Zelri fix the teleportation monitoring system?”
“Analytic,” Amira replied in a bored tone. “It can basically power-up Moves to add special traits if used properly; with Teleport, Analytic can make it undetectable.”
Lyra gave her daughter a light glare. “Humph … always stealing my thunder, c’mon, and you make it sound so boring! It took Zelri a lot of practice with all her Analytic Moves … we were the ones to discover the Teleport trick, and did you know only four Pokémon can even do that?!” She argued, hyping up a proud Zelri as she continued spinning in the air; her Azumarill was clapping.
Rhea slowly shook her head. “Nope … umm, four in the world or just Pokémon in general?”
“Eh … well, more than four Pokémon can do it in the world, but … umm, Zelri’s the best coach for it!” Lyra added. “Every Grandmaster with a Starmie, Magnezone, Porygon-Z, or Beheeyem tends to eventually come and ask for lessons; that’s how awesome she is!”
Amira brushed back her braid, turning to grin at her mother. “Which you charge a hefty price for.”
“Heh, well,” Lyra played with a lock of her unbound brown hair across her front, “I mean, it’s pretty specialized stuff; Zelri and I have lots to do, and both the Trainer and Pokémon need to learn proper energy control with it, so you could say I’m training my competition…”
“Yeah, totally, Mom,” Amira pushed, “it’s not like we can use the money with all the cash you dump into TMs or Tutoring and let’s not get started on Dad.”
Her mother held up her hands with an embarrassed smile. “Guilty, again, heh…”
“Really?” Mallory asked with an interested hum. “How much have you put into TMs and Tutoring? My parents spend a lot on them, too, but Champion-tier and Grandmaster-tier are two separate things.”
Rhea perked up, scooting forward a bit; it was an important topic for any Trainer, and the cost of creating TMs or time taken Tutoring was extremely costly, especially developing new ones. “That’s actually a really good question! Umm, the cost of living a normal life and a Trainer’s life are totally different things, right?”
She wedged her back further against the door, adjusting her seat belt for a moment. “Like … this nurse in the hospital said my grandma basically doubled her salary by giving her 50,000 credits, but 100,000 credits is small betting money for someone like my aunt; Training may be the highest-earning profession, but it’s also the most costly to stay competitive is what I’m trying to say. Right?”
“Woah, woah, Rhea,” Lyra giggled, “you can’t go comparing normal Training with your family; your aunt is among the absolute most powerful Trainers in … well, history, dear, and that’s going to come with a lot of wealth!”
Lori hummed softly at her comment. “Right, right, Cynthia is the extreme example, but I also wonder about that; if TMs and Tutoring became more available, would it create stronger Trainers over time?”
“Mmh, I’m not so sure,” Amira replied, starting to get into the conversation while glancing toward her mother for a second opinion. “Just because you have more Moves on a Pokémon, the Trainer might be able to come up with better strategies, which is great, but ultimately, if they don’t have the drive to use everything at your disposal before those additions, a Trainer won’t raise any further than where they’re currently at.”
Lyra folded her legs the opposite way, wrapping her arms under her chest with a small smile. “I think I understand what you two are trying to get at … are Trainers naturally locked out because of resources, natural talent, or their Pokémon’s genetics or type?”
Rhea swiftly nodded. “Blue told me there’s so much more to being a Champion, yet their Pokémon have so many more Moves than all the other Trainers, which I get that they sank a lot of credits into, but … yeah.”
Their Pokémon were now listening intently to the conversation, Lyra’s Azumarill offering her own answers regarding the question.
“I mean, you told us about your story and how you made it, but there aren’t many like you,” Rhea argued. “So, Jade just got her Pichu that has an Ability issue from birth, mixed with her own family record … not that I’m making fun of her,” she quickly replied, holding up her hands. “I’m just…”
“No, no, I get it,” Lyra thoughtfully nodded, “and granted, I could be seen as an exception … and I am, to an extent,” she mused. “However … so could your friends. Most people tend to think in absolutes and believe the science has already proven the level disparity between genetic lines, but … it’s more complicated than that.”
“Like?” Mallory asked, arms folded under her breasts. “The statistics are pretty solid; 32.95% of the population can’t even handle bonding with a Pokémon at an early age, and it’s been shown to run in family lines, linking it to the human fortitude phenomena. It was seen as such a problem that the majority voted to restrict the age limit of bonding in most democratic nations, slowing the progress for Trainers like us with powerful family roots.”
Rhea remembered some of those statistics from her mother’s recording; she had no doubt her family would have started both Sabin and her out at an extremely early age like Iris was able to in the Land of Dragons within Unova’s Blasted Woodlands, a vast and ancient forest located at the region’s northern section, extending all the way to Fiore.
“That was the 14-year-old statistics, too,” Rhea noted, “and even the 67% that do fine with the bonding at a young age can’t make it to Master-tier.”
The purple-haired girl shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not even really complaining about being forced to wait, but it’s just a fact—bonding can cause severe life-long issues for many humans, which is why in the past, Training developed different forms of bonding in various nations.”
“Rangers?” Amira asked with a mild smile. “I’ve always wondered how swift-bonding really worked; it’s only temporary, and even if you can slowly deepen your bond with the single partner-Pokémon you’ve built a friendship with over a long period, it’s just so much work for so little return. I get it’s a lifestyle and choice, but … it’s just so inefficient compared to constantly having that connection with pokeballs.”
Lyra calmly listened to their back and forth, leaning over to hug her Azumarill and stroke her head. She’d been nodding the entire time, brown eyes shifting between them.
Mallory’s head tilted while continuing her examination, staring at the floor. “Yeah, bonding is by far the proven method to reach the top of the field. Rangers can be powerful; I mean, Rank 9s number in … no, let’s exclude every Ranger but Rank 10s … there are only twelve Top Rangers in the world, yet they’d get creamed by Chase … there’s a reason Rangers don’t become Champions.”
Her purple irises returned to Lyra. “So … Rangers and wild Pokémon don’t have TMs, Tutoring, and the snappy decision making that being a completely Bonded Pokémon brings; it makes sense why it’s a less appealing concept for most regions without the tradition and promotions, especially for Trainers not so used to the fortitude stress of a constant bond.
“That’s just it … not all Pokémon can handle TMs or have the talent to be effective students for Tutors, and Trainers can’t handle Pokémon above their Tier-listings, which is why they were created in the first place, as the solid, general marker.”
Lyra sat back with a short clap and giggled. “Excellent breakdown of why we’re historically here as a society … now, consider this,” she challenged with a wink, “how big of a gap is there between talent and hard work?”
The subject helped pass the time and solidify some thoughts in Rhea’s mind; she and Mallory fell silent to think about the question, but Amira answered with a small huff and shake of her head. “It’s complicated.”
“Right?!” Lyra replied. “Every person will be different, and I’m not saying everyone can get to your aunt’s level, Rhea, or your father’s, Mallory,” she stated, giving them a sad smile. “The fact of the matter is, we’re all limited in some way, shape, or form, which can be motivations, environment, genetics, among numberless factors … in fact, what about your cousin, Bianca?” She asked.
“Mmh … I have thought about that in the past,” Rhea mumbled, feeling a little uncomfortable with the topic after the hate her cousin got from the online community, which caused her to pull back entirely from public social platforms. “She got a ton of resentment from the Training Community and population in general when she decided to become a researcher instead of a Trainer…”
Amira growled a little, glaring out of the window. “People suck online…”
Lyra released a depressed sigh, petting her Azumarill’s tail now as Zelri entered the conversation with their Pokémon. “Yes … anonymity can really show you the worst in people when they believe there won’t be any consequences, especially when they fail as a Trainer and turn to gather social power online to harass those that manage to make it.
“Companies must provide the best security or receive harsh backlash themselves if there’s a single breach, and the court system is usually more favored toward the lower-tier Trainers. It was a bit unfortunate for your cousin, but her situation proves a point … talent can only get you so far.”
“Brush me up on it?” Mallory asked, shifting her gaze between Rhea and Lyra. “I’m not following; I try to stay away from the online drama circles.”
“Well,” Rhea sighed, fiddling with a part of her brushed-out hair across her front, “you know Bianca, right?”
Lori nodded.
Rhea licked her lips, feeling a bit nervous about even talking about the touchy subject within her family; between the doxing and hate messages her cousin received, it took a big hit on her emotional state for six months in her mid-teens, and Rhea didn’t know how she would have handled it when she was 16-years-old.
The people that followed Bianca’s progress felt betrayed by her actions since they lived vicariously through her, and she was supposed to be the same as her mother … Grandmaster-tier in the Contest scene, the highest rank; a Champion without equal; the Legendary-tier Trainer that wouldn’t even back down to Legendaries, and when Bianca made it public that she had no motivation to go beyond Master-tier, she went from their holy avatar to the ultimate betrayer.
Her cousin moved back into Rick’s place in Nimbasa City after splitting off from her group, setting things up as a researcher at the University of Black City. Rick was a close family friend who had practically raised Bianca for a few years when her mother dealt with Galactic. There were never any romantic exchanges between Rick and Cynthia; although, a small minority of the public fed into the idea.
Cynthia chose to have her daughter live in Unova to escape the constant harassment she’d get in the Sinnoh region, even from good people. The distance worked exactly as she predicted, allowing Bianca to have a somewhat normal life. Of course, her mother visited a few times a week whenever she could get away, having the ability to teleport vast distances with Selerice, her Togekiss, and kept constant contact with her education and daily life.
Everything was fine until starting her 14-year-old Bronze-tier journey; her identity hit every Unova News Station, and after she came out about not wanting to pursue a professional Trainer’s lifestyle, the mob came for her. Even in Nimbasa City, the toxic fandom found Rick’s address, doxing him and doing their best to force all the Unova Universities to reject her in the hopes she’d return to Training.
She could deal with the private school calls, telling her that they were under pressure from the public to reject her or the harassment; it was when Bianca’s father-figure started receiving the mob’s doxing wrath when she started breaking down. She was only 16-years-old, and she never imagined her personal decision to simply become a researcher would hurt him.
Bianca retreated from everything, moving in with Rhea’s family for a bit to escape and find emotional relief, which was where they first became close; after everything died down with her utter separation from the public eye, she was able to take on the quiet role of a scientist.
She studied under Professor Juniper while attending online classes and completed several major projects with Christie’s support. Of course, she never wanted public attention after that, choosing to redact her name from the projects.
That was when social media was really just kicking off, and people saw the power in it; the only reason much of the doxing didn’t work was that it was Bianca … Cynthia’s name alone kept businesses panicking between her and the rage-filled mob, the days of the Twitter platform that quickly died from the subsequent public backlash years later.
A few Masters had made threats about going after those people in the past, and with powerful digital Pokémon, it wasn’t impossible, even with high-levels of corporate security, but with the law on the public’s side, those Master groups were labeled terrorists for their actions.
“Right, well … Bianca never really liked battling, but she was recognized around the world, for obvious reasons,” Rhea explained, “and made waves beside Hilbert, Hilda, Cheren, and the various small Plasma incidents; I’m sure you know about all that.”
Having lived in Unova and grown up around people that dealt with them extensively in the following years, Mallory nodded. “Wait … are you talking about the whole Twitter thing?”
“Yup,” Rhea sighed.
“Ah … okay, yeah, that happened when I was like …. six, so I don’t know much about it.”
Lyra was now polishing Zelri’s smooth body with a handkerchief from a side compartment. “Mhm … talent like Bianca’s is challenging to come by, and a lot of people put money into her as a brand … a safe bet. There’s a part of the conversation you’re talking about that goes left unsaid … even by you two,” she commented, looking up at Rhea and Mallory.
Stolen story; please report.
Rhea’s lips tightened, vision dropping to her lap. “Something we don’t see?”
“The conflict between normal people and high-tier Trainers,” Lyra whispered, pulling in her Porygon-Z to hug her. “What can you learn about Bianca’s experience?”
“It was horrible,” Mallory huffed, nose twisting a bit. “Social media can be total cancer.”
Rhea shivered at Lyra’s tone, hugging herself, remembering back to when she was a little girl; Bianca had been a big sister to her when she was seven-years-old.
“Umm … they were acting like the victims,” she mumbled. “Bianca was the one that hurt them or … well, at least that’s what the media and journalists were turning it into. How much money people lost by betting on her, the tragedy that might happen if her mother died and she didn’t fill her shoes … among a lot of other things.”
The brown-haired woman dropped back with a long sigh, closing her eyes. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this … I suppose it’s just kind of an unspoken truth in the Master Community; they probably don’t even talk about it … I know I don’t hear it often.”
Amira gave her mother a deep, concerned frown. “Mom…”
“I’m fine,” Lyra chuckled, glaring out of the window. “Waging an all-out war is far easier than fighting a toxic culture … or even a corrupt system; even if you have a good system, a toxic culture can utterly ruin it. Your journey will be more difficult than you girls seem to think … and I suspect you’re beginning to learn a bit about it through your friends, from what Amira told me.”
Rhea leaned forward to look at the redhead. “What do you mean … what happened to Sam and the others?”
Lori’s gaze fell to her lap. “I saw something about drugs with that reporter woman,” Lori mumbled. “Is that what you’re talking about?”
“She what?!”
Amira nodded, arms folded tightly against her chest. “It was just Naive Mint, but yeah … that’s what people will do.”
Lyra’s eyes opened to look at the ceiling. “It’s just another part of the lurking public monster … young Trainers dream of the top … having nightmares of being near the bottom; yet look at it from the Master Trainer’s perspective … when you feel more like a product than a person, there’s a problem, but everyone’s fine with it.”
Lori’s brow furrowed, vision falling to her lap. “Is that why you never took the Champion position?”
Lyra chuckled, playing with her brown hair as Amira released a concerned groan. “Some people are built for that kind of job … some aren’t. It’s just another day of being a Champion-tier Trainer … another night with another battle in your mind … not the battlefield. There is a lot of love … and a lot of hate … so many people that don’t want to see you unwind … it’s all about them and what they want, and they don’t care until you’re gone.”
She looked up at them with a sad smile. “A lot of Master Trainers are a mess behind the curtains … not the hidden ones that pull away from the public eye like the Trainers inside your little village, Rhea,” she whispered. “Think about it … Trainers with the power to crush cities by themselves are frightened to death of the public.
“Society creates a lot of their own problems and expects those in power to solve it when all of us just want to run from those kinds of things … to have fun battles, explore, and just … live … to be like Red, Yellow, and me, and not be a public item.”
A cold cast fell across her face, eyes seeing something far beyond their car as she looked into her past. “They don’t know what real war is like because they can’t handle it, and so we become their broken proxies, the things Master Trainers go through to keep the public safe or compensate for their lifestyle. It’s not like we’re a dictatorship, either … we’ve tried to civilize the world, yet the ugly culture underneath persists.”
Rhea hadn’t expected to see this side of the bright, spirited Kanto superstar; Nova fed her conflicted emotions with the baggage fame brought, but she wanted praise.
“We can’t have sick days … tough days … we can’t be depressed or broken. Blue … the public ruthlessly went after him when he shattered after the war … yeah, he was a mess, but they don’t know the demons he fought. Where was his support?
“The public acts like your friends until you need them the most; then just say, ‘get your act together.’ No, it was only the Master Community that helped him through that battle … because we get it. We’re still human … yet they don’t know the monster we fight in our own heads.”
She breathed in a deep breath and let it out in a laugh. “They say I’m the best, and they say I’m the worst … they only care when they benefit and wonder why Master Trainers turn to terrorist activity; I can actually sympathize with some of their struggles … even while stopping them for public safety.
“Where do they go when they’re feeling low? How do they know what’s real when their mind questions all they know? How do they save themselves from themselves when depression hits? They can’t tell the public or risk backlash but are expected to remain in the spotlight … you gotta keep pretending everything’s fine … until Galactic is formed.
“So many Master-tier Trainers fall in with various organizations for support … it’s no wonder, especially when there are messages and leadership such as Galactic. Cyrus’s nihilistic approach to the fractured world and his goals are compelling to disillusioned Master Trainers … think the opposite of Skull, and our world isn’t perfect.
“If Cyrus can get rid of free-will and emotion, then he really believes he can end all conflict or pain … many believe him because of that conviction and being conditioned by society, receiving or seeing the cultural tool you’re expected to live as for the majority. The public talk and talk, but they don’t know what goes on in our heads or what our families deal with.”
Rhea released a low hum, not knowing what to say to the sobering topic; Lyra was right, no one had told her any of this in such a straightforward way, but after thinking about it, the ugly side of society took on a monstrous form. Of course, Lyra had dealt with it from the lowly Bronze-tier side, Rocket criminal side, and Champion hero side.
“Oh, goodness!” She giggled, fanning her face while giving them a forced smile. “That’s just a part that can get to me when people talk about the whole Trainer Tier disparity; destructive power or money isn’t a cure to feeling depressed, or the shield people believe it is.”
Lori nodded silently. “... I guess that’s part of why my sister hides in her own little world, but … you’ve seen it from both sides, right?”
Amira had been wearing a concerned scowl from the start; she swapped places to sit next to her mother, rubbing her leg, and Lyra reached over to hug her. “Aww, I love you so much!” Her big blue Pokémon shifted over to rub against her other side.
“Hehe … yeah,” she whispered, “my family was Bronze-tier … Bronze-Kid is what the neighborhood children used to call me, and I’ve seen the top as a Champion … it’s not as glamorous as people believe … your heart can easily become empty and cold … our personal struggles and fears don’t just disappear, and it just takes a moment to alter a life … no, no, let’s get off this topic!” She laughed, brightening up. “Rhea…”
“Mhm?” She asked, her heart feeling heavy.
“Giovanni wanted to meet you specifically, which is why we’re heading to the Gym.”
“Wait … just me?” She asked with growing panic; Nova jumped up on her lap, trying to get her attention with her own questions.
Lyra leaned over to rest her head against Amira’s shoulder, seeming to find immense joy in the action. “Not the only reason, but a big one; he was worried about something.”
Lori began asking about her experience in dealing with the public while Rhea addressed Nova’s worries. From what she heard from her teammate’s conversation, Lyra simply withdrew from the public space before social media created the mob powers that could mobilize a storm of negative emotion at any Master. It was harder today to get what Lyra had than it was when she was a girl; so many people were watching and judging with the rise of technology.
Ummm … no, Nova, having people cheer for us isn’t bad; it’s just that you can’t expect them to always be on your side … it’s usually just a phrase, and then they’ll be booing you.
Her little Eevee didn’t like that answer, nose creased while glaring at the door; why would anyone dislike her? She was cute and strong and adorable, and she could transform into so many fantastic forms, and she was pretty, and her fur was so soft and fluffy … the random, and somewhat repetitive thoughts Rhea felt running through Nova’s mind made her giggle.
I’ll always love and cheer for you! She assured, reaching down to snuggle against her. Nova reluctantly gave in, saying as long as she was on her side, then it didn’t matter if they were booing … she still didn’t like or understand it, though … she was puffy sweetness.
Rhea’s attention went back to Lyra as Amira pushed back against her. “Mom … it’s uncomfortable…”
“Aww, just a little longer?” She pleaded, dropping to her daughter’s lap and smiling up at her. “I always dreamed of just lying on your lap and taking a nap!”
Amira lifted an eyebrow, but a smile brightened her lips. “And who’s the mother?”
“Pamper me!” Lyra grinned. “Look how down I am; I need some comfort, and your dad’s not here!”
“Mmh … I’m starting to think you brought up this whole topic to do this…” Amira accused.
Lyra twirled her brown locks around her index finger with a small, impish smile. “I’m not above using it for my benefit!”
“Gah, get up…” Amira grumbled, helping her giggling mother.
“Hehe … okay, okay … Zelri, gah, this traffic jam is taking forever!” Glancing out of the window while adjusting her appearance, Lyra groaned. “We’ve only gone a block; okay, let’s go…”
“They’ll probably figure it out,” Amira warned.
Mallory’s bright expression was back in place. “How? You said the whole Analytic thing stopped it.”
“They had to figure out a method to counter it,” Amira replied, glaring at her mother’s grinning nods.
“Mhm! Mhm! Aren’t I so wonderful, helping the city figure out its weak security points?!”
“That’s one way to put it,” Lori chuckled. “I approve! Wait, the four teleport Pokémon with Analytic were Starmie, Magnezone, Porygon-Z, and Beheeyem?”
Rhea took a deep breath, trying to pull back a positive vibe. “That’s what I remember!”
“That reminds me,” Amira’s red irises shifted to Rhea, “I wanted to know if your mother gave you a list for your future Pokémon? It would be good to plan our Three’s composition for the future.”
“Always thinking ahead, just like your grandfather,” Lyra snickered, nudging her daughter.
“Someone’s gotta do it,” she returned but looked a bit sad when Rhea shook her head.
“True! True!” Lyra chimed. “Okay, let’s go!”
The Porygon-Z began to glow with a purple light, and to Rhea, it didn’t look like Zelri delayed her Move at all when comparing it to Vilora’s, her father’s Butterfree. Her stomach tightened with the spatial shift.
Rhea was suddenly sitting on an expensive green and black-themed couch, Mallory beside her; their Pokémon were looking around in confusion on the table in front of them. Amira, Lyra, and her Pokémon were on the opposite couch from them.
Between the two parties, on Rhea’s left, was Giovanni, his assistant, and the massive 6’2 Persian; his tablet went to the black-haired woman upon their entrance. “Ah … Lyra, heh, you do cover your tracks well, but did you inform the driver.”
“Kind of … not,” she finished with a sheepish laugh.
“The Commissioner will be knocking once the vehicle stops at the Gym entrance, and you don’t leave it,” he replied with a smile, looking up at his assistant.
“... Already notified.”
Lyra held up her thumb. “Nice! Dependable as always, Matori!”
“At least with the little stuff,” Amira whispered with a slight smirk, glancing away from the woman’s sharp glasses stare.
Giovanni got to his feet, a low grunt close to his lips, drawing everyone’s attention before Matori could respond to Amira’s comment. “If you could follow me, girls,” he said. “I’ve planned for a late lunch, given Lyra’s impatient tendencies.”
“Man, I’m so guilty today!” Lyra giggled, smoothing out her dress. “Will Silver be joining us?” She asked, expression hopeful.
The large man nodded. “He should have time between the Porygon inspection and taking inventory.”
“Wait, Dad on inventory?” Amira asked.
“For the important items, yes,” Giovanni replied, opening the door to lead them into a wooden lined hallway; guiding plaques were placed on the intersections they passed, showing directions. “Rhea … I asked Lyra to bring you here to test a problem I foresee with your Gym Battles.”
“Just me?” She asked, glancing down at Nova, but her little girl was jogging beside the casual Persian; the Eevee was enamored by his perfectly groomed white fur.
Amira released a low rumble in her throat. “Mmh … are you talking about the Gym Equalization Act?”
Rhea slowed a little; it hadn’t even crossed her mind with everything happening around her, but they were right … in the matches she watched. Giovanni’s Pokémon had to be recalled after winning so often because it grew too strong for the opponent.
Gyms hadn’t been a massive part of her life, growing up in a community that already passed most Gym challenges; most of their conversations were on Post-Gym activities or advancements.
The Gym Equalization Act had been implemented a few decades ago with the invention of devices that could read the Spiritual Core of Pokémon, mainly discovered when analyzing Pokémon DNA. It only worked when comparing Trainer and Pokémon through the pokeball medium, though, but she heard it could also be used with a Styler.
It was meant to give a more real challenge to the Trainers taking on a Gym while allowing them the ability to actually compete and not get blown away … Sabrina had been guilty of this, which had sparked the controversy. In fact, after a moment’s thought, Rhea figured certain aspects of their current society were probably in response to Masters like Sabrina abusing their powers, yet it wasn’t entirely her fault from what she’d heard.
Lyra was right … everything was so complicated.
“I … have to fight Pokémon on Nova and Mya’s level?! How … where is that?”
Giovanni shifted to look at her with a small frown. “I can gauge it fairly accurately, but I’d like to see what the League machine determines … it doesn’t account for the team’s experience, which is why I purposefully handicap myself.”
“Mmh, that might really cause a problem…” Mallory mumbled.
Lyra chimed in as they passed a few Rocket employees in white coats, talking to each other about some machine. “Oh, by the way, congratulations, Rhea!”
“For?” Amira asked; Rhea was currently worrying about the test coming up.
“She beat a recently evolved Nidorino!”
Giovanni hummed. “Interesting … how did you manage it?”
“Luck, mostly,” Rhea mumbled. “I had a friend backing me up.”
Lyra seemed to have witnessed the entire thing because she swiftly picked up Rhea’s preoccupied slack. “She used his pride against him at the start, getting off a Self-Destruct from her friend’s Pineco, swapped him out with a rather powerful Phanpy, and used Mya’s Steel-Typing, breeding Moves, and Master Ball power spike to forcefully lower his defenses to get a Burn, and decrease his Attack Stat, buying, time for the Phanpy to land a devastating High Horsepower, ending the match!”
“Wow,” Amira mumbled, giving Rhea a smile, “pretty smart strategy.”
“Mmh, I guess,” Rhea whispered, hands held tightly behind her back. “I couldn’t have come up with it if Lori hadn’t bought that Pokedex subscription, and I was thinking about how you fought during the Starter Battle.”
“Oh, nice!” Mallory grinned. “A team effort, then!”
Rhea forced a chuckle. “Yeah, I guess it really was.”
Giovanni guided her into a side room with several researchers pouring over data; they all came to attention when their boss entered, but he told them to return to their calibrations, directing one to assist him.
He pointed Rhea to a machine, showing six slots for pokeballs to be slotted in. “If you put your two in there, then it will give me a list of Pokémon I can use that are bonded to me within the database. All Gym Leaders and Aides are required to have a certain amount of Pokémon they can utilize for specific tiers.”
Rhea tentatively returned Nova to her pokeball; she had no clue why she was so nervous since she’d been mesmerized by the giant cat Pokémon the entire time. It was swiftly becoming clear to her that they were being tested, though, and naturally, she’d proudly score high.
She looked at Nova’s pokeball with tight lips; the black outer shell with the white trim and pink indicator cover that she’d purchased at the place Amira worked as a teenager shined in the room’s bright light. How will we be graded?
Her teammates gave her an encouraging look as she put Nova and Mya’s pokeballs in the machine; her Mawile was still fast asleep. She stepped back, glancing over at the scientist as he studied the screen the device was attached to; his voice was a bit nasally. “Umm, Mr. Rocket, these Pokémon are … these numbers can’t be right … the machine must be malfunctioning.”
They turned to his left as a woman nearby heard the man’s response, and she moved over to join him. “What are you talking about, Joseph? I set it up myself … no, but … hmm … Ms., could you remove them and put them back in, please?” She asked.
Rhea complied, and Mallory snuck around to see what they were looking at. “Wait … does that say Bronze Grade 8?” She asked in shock, making Rhea’s shoulders droop.
We’re doomed…
Nova was baffled; high was supposed to be good, and she was awesome! They could beat anyone!
“Well, no,” the woman mumbled, causing a spark of hope to brighten in Rhea’s chest. “You see this number, Joseph … the programming won’t allow a Bronze-tier Trainer to be placed in Silver before qualifying through the League; these numbers reflect Silver Grade 3.”
“Silver … Grade 3…” Rhea mumbled in disbelief; that had to be stronger than even the Nidorino she fought in Viridian Forest. “How…”
“That’s about accurate,” Lyra nodded with an inquisitive stare. “Closer to Grade 4, but it’s on the tipping scale.”
Giovanni released a long sigh, nodding his head. “I figured. You may return to your work.”
The technicians looked between Giovanni, Rhea, Lyra, and the screen before scratching their heads and retreating to the strange machine they were tweaking in the corner.
Amira joined Mallory, studying the information. “Silver Grade 3 … yeah, Rhea shared her list of Moves with us, and I agree, her Pokémon are powerful, but … Silver Grade 3 powerful? I’m not seeing it.”
“It’s not about the Pokémon alone,” Giovanni stated, gesturing for Rhea to remove the pokeballs, “it’s about the bond, Trainer fortitudes, and Pokémon energy cores. It’s reading those three metrics and combining them to find the appropriate challenge,” he explained.
Nova exited her pokeball, talking with Gables, Holly, Amber, Miky, and Giovanni’s Persian to understand why her strength would hurt them in the start.
Mallory asked if she could test it out, and he agreed; she returned Gables and Miky to their pokeballs to be scanned. The blue frog Pokémon was in an Ultra Ball while the imp enjoyed a Great Ball.
“Bronze Grade 3…” Mallory mumbled with disappointment.
“Well,” Amira pointed at the screen, “with Miky in the Great Ball, but if you swapped him to an Ultra Ball, then you’d probably hit Grade 4. I bet I’m roughly the same … umm, yup, Grade 3,” she said after testing her own.
Their group exited the room, following Giovanni to a long hallway with a flat escalator on either side of the corridor; the path led through the underground networks he had built under the city and Rocket Tower.
Giovanni explained as they went. “Rhea’s entire energy pool is available for her use, which is why it believes she can fight at Silver Rank 3 since it doesn’t take into account her health. Pokeballs are typically designed in a manner to not require that kind of examination, and while she could battle at that level with raw strength, it would likely kill her.”
“Right,” Rhea mumbled, twisting Nova’s pokeball around in her hands, “so how am I supposed to battle Gyms then?”
Lyra reached over to rub her back comfortingly. “You don’t have to worry; that’s why we did this!”
Matori nodded from beside Giovanni; she’d been fiddling with a tablet since the start. “There are exceptions Gym Leaders can make within their challenges, decreasing or increasing their match difficulties if appropriate metrics are met. It seems you already have a note on your personal file in the League database, yet further clarification will need to be met.”
Giovanni turned to smile down at her. “I’ll put my own opinion into your file that Gym Aides will see; your matches will be challenging, but it won’t be impossible, and … if you're smart, you won’t hurt your health.”
Rhea breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks … umm, so … you’re saying I need to know when to give up?”
“Knowing your limits is important, dear,” Lyra replied, “especially when dealing with Master Balls.”
“I get it,” she mumbled. “Really, thank you…”
“I look forward to seeing your matches,” Giovanni commented. “It will be a good examination of the Master Ball’s use in a League format.”
Rhea quieted down after that, pulling in to ponder everything that had been dropped on her; yes, she had extremely powerful Pokémon that could probably stomp most Trainers within her tier if she brute-forced her way through it, yet that wasn’t a viable long-term strategy, as Giovanni hinted at.
Her grandfather’s suggestion at building a protective wall to prevent her Pokémon from hurting her, even unintentionally, was necessary. She asked Giovanni about it, but he didn’t have an answer for her; it would be something he could look into since it was a new concept to him, but the Master Ball still had many secrets to discover with how powerful of a bond it formed between Pokémon and Trainer.
It soon became apparent when they were nearing Rocket Tower with how fancy the hallways became, sporting dark, polished wood and granite floors. They entered an elevator that took them to Giovanni’s private living space on top of the massive building overlooking Viridian.
Silver was there, causing Lyra to squeal and run over to hug and kiss him; he wore a fancy business suit, just like his father.
Ariana, Amira’s grandmother, quickly embraced her, wearing business attire; her white heels tapped against the marble floors as she returned to her seat.
Rhea realized how average the family was when just sitting down to eat, and the three of them went into further details about their time in Viridian Forest; Lori’s adventure in the spooky side of it was exciting with the practice battles she had with Casey.
Giovanni went into a few details about his own journey as a kid before Lyra took over the rest of the discussion, poking fun at Silver and her adventures through Johto. Ariana didn’t speak much, but she seemed to be enjoying herself, and Amira opened up a lot, showing much more emotion in the exchanges with her mother’s jibing comments pulling her into the discussions.
The night ended with them heading back to Lyra and Silver’s house, watching more shows, and preparing for bed; tomorrow, they’d make their way to Dark City!