A few months in the future, far away and very high up.

The room was stately on the verge of pompous. It was dominated by a T-shaped table carved from solid stone extracted from the center of the Mt. Silver tunnel. Surrounding the table were twenty-one chairs, the frames of which were built from a rare and costly alloy. It was a custom order straight from the Pewter foundries. Metal was not a comfortable seat of course, and the frames were cushioned with silk and wool from a Mareep’s first coat. Each chair represented hundreds of hours of artisan work.

No expense had been spared.

Every item in the room from the floor tiles to the lightbulbs above were symbols and showcases. The wealth of a continent on display at competition. If that wasn’t enough, the room itself was a statement. Situated at the top of the building, below only the sky parlor battleground and the structures supporting it.

This was the highest point that humanity had claimed in the world. From here, the continent was ruled.

Floor to ceiling glass let the room’s inhabitants look down on their domain in comfort. It depended on the person whether they did so literally or figuratively.

It was, Koga mused, a good thing that the media was not allowed in. Not as one might immediately think, to shield from complaints about the opulence on display, or the symbolism that a reporter might find. Those were almost expected given the room's purpose. He was glad that these meetings were not observed because of what might happen to Johto and Kanto if the people knew how childish their greatest could be.

At the tip of the T, the head of the Silver League – Champion Lance – glowered and sulked as his latest attempt to call the meeting to order failed. Fire sparked in the man’s yellow eyes as his more ‘subtle’ attempts to call attention to himself were ignored. His chair may have been higher than any other in the room, but twenty voices were hard to drown out with dignity.

None of his three near-peers made any move to aid him, which was as honest a reflection of the state of the continent as one could find.

Bruno, the hulking brute to the Champion’s right, was ignoring all the hubbub. It was usual behavior, as was the Fighting Elite’s closed eyes. If it wasn’t for the flexing of muscle as the man lifted imposing weights, you might think he was using the time to sleep. Often considered the fool savant of the league and Bruno did little to oppose the notion.

Koga was not so foolish as to believe the public persona. When Bruno spoke – often to bluntly interrupt subjects that had gone on too long or to hammer through proposals he wanted – people listened. They didn’t pay attention because he was eloquent. Bruno convinced people with stubbornness not charisma. The room of powerful people listened because he rarely spoke, refused to budge when he did, and because they believed he could be bent to their purpose if they supported him in turn. Equal exchange was understood by nearly all creatures on the earth.

All this made Bruno the wildcard in the room. Koga treated him with respect for that, as well as the due he gave everyone in the room. The real fools were those who treated anyone with power like that held by those in this room with disdain.

Of course there were exceptions to every rule.

On Lance’s left was that exception. Elite Agatha made no attempt to hide her amusement at the Champion’s failure. If anything, she flaunted it, whispering and cackling away with her shadow. Agatha treated everyone in the room powerful, shrewd or dangerous as they may be in the same way – with rudeness. Few called attention to her behavior. They likely told themselves that there was no winning a conversation with an old woman, Agatha being the oldest in the room, though only by a few years.

Koga believed their reasoning was more unconscious, and related to her reputation rather than her age. Agatha was perhaps the deadliest person in the room even considering Champion Lance. She was also the most disposed to killing you while you slept, a fact that one half of the table would find hard to forget. They still told stories about her to misbehaving children in some provinces. Agatha knew this and found the idea hilarious.

One did not reach these heights without a touch of madness.

Of course, some were not swayed by the reputation. Gym Leader Pryce, the second oldest in the room, glared daggers at the oldest Elite from across the table. He alternated between that and shooting glances at the third Elite, Lorelei. Pryce was trying to request her to support Lance and quiet the room. It was a reasonable request, and as two people with the same hometown, a small favor.

If Lorelei didn’t loathe the Champion that is.

Instead of helping Lance out she stared ahead and twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers. Lorelei was known to be incredibly fond of her hair, going so far as to create a company to design and manufacture products to care for it. It was an eccentricity, but a normal one shared by many in the world. The effect of this eccentricity was less normal. It so happened that the Elite and Champion shared a similar shade of hair color. Another small matter, but something that had become a growing source of tension between the two. Far from the most important dispute between them, but another burden nonetheless.

Their matching hair was a coincidence that had unfortunate consequences for the continent. The media often made references to them as a brother-sister duo when they weren’t making far more lascivious remarks. Dragon and Ice. It practically wrote itself. Lorelei was the main target of these rumors, which she despised but was unable to kill. Lance’s occasional ill thought statements did nothing to alleviate the issue. Statements that became more frequent as they fought more.

Thankfully the media were too busy enjoying themselves to see the danger in tension between half of the continent’s current rulers.

The three Elite may not have been cooperative, but they were quiet and orderly. The same could not be said of the other half of the table, the bar of the 'T'. There Gym leaders bickered, shouted and made enough noise to put a class of toddlers to shame. Insults were thrown, names were called and shaky deals were made.

Business as usual.

Every meeting was the same, and everyone who could put a stop to it didn’t. Koga avoided the squabble as much as he could. Today he returned the occasional remark sent his way about the Route 17 bridge with venomous stoicism when he could. Childish though it was, the everlasting quarrel was better than the alternative. Words spilled in this room were better than blood on a field.

And so the clamor continued until Lance lost his temper and shouted everyone to peace. That too, Koga thought as he eyed Agatha, was an interaction that was to the benefit of some in the room. Here they ruled the continent, and benefit to whom was a currency bartered.

The meeting began with the usual list. Flock and herd migrations. Changes to the Maritime and Mountain Routes. The latter more fraught, though with fewer casualties. Then it was on to reports of territory disputes in restricted zones, and the knock on effects of such. This led, as always, to sparring over plans for new Routes and funding. A new Route was new opportunity, popularity, new benefits. Little changed on previous designs.

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The discussion over the Cerulean business was more engaging. Most had a stake and all understood the need to cooperate on such matters, though reluctantly. In the end there was little that could be done, and resources were reallocated accordingly. The fact that the most recent cautionary tale had been mere decades before helped ease the discussion.

One could not predict nature, and it was a fool that tried to argue with one of them for no reason.

It was when the meeting turned to any other business that tension built. The first item on the agenda was the same as it had been for over a year – the empty seat at the table. Here the squabble turned nasty.

The usual information was batted back and forth. No matter how many times it was brought up, the majority agreed that there were no suitable candidates from the last conference. Two of the Elite four, Bruno and Agatha nodded their assent. Technically, this discussion was meant to have no input from the Elite or Champion. In reality, they’d always held a veto right for membership, enforced by a right of challenge. This privilege was rarely invoked, and always with the agreement of all current Elites, but none of them would allow the incapable to join their ranks. In fact, the three of them had deadlocked the discussion with this ability after Haze passed.

No matter how many political favors were traded, the three Elite refused to accept a peer that did not meet their criteria.

It was a rule that even the Champion could not change, though he had tried. After only two months of deadlock, Lance had tried to push through a candidate with his backing, and one from his own clan to boot. The Elites had laughed in his face. Though the Dragon trainer was officially the strongest in the room, that mattered little when facing off against the next three strongest. Even if the candidate had been of suitable strength, the Elite would have refused. Two members of a single sovereign power in the Elite was a step too far. Especially considering the Blackthornes would never relinquish their gym leader position. Dragons did not like to lose things.

The Champion had overstepped and his peers were not about to let him forget it. Lance knew it and wouldn't make another attempt. He sat back and scowled, waiting for the discussion to run its usual course.

Today though, Koga had a different direction for the discussion. It was time.

He stood, smoothly and waited. It did not take long for the table to notice his unusual actions. None were foolish enough to let their senses decline to such a state. It took a moment, but they all subsided, waiting for him to speak his point. Twenty of the most powerful people on the continent listening without him making a sound.

The comparison to Lance’s earlier fumble did not escape either of their notice.

“I would like to put forth my candidacy for the Elite.”

Koga was one of the few with the qualifications. He didn’t run around challenging trainers , or participating in the conference, but his prowess was known. It had been known during the war, and it’d been a long time since then.

The room hung in surprise for a moment, before grins and chuckles began across the table from him. That was the second reason behind the deadlock. The Johto-Kanto divide.

Haze had been a staunch supporter and campaigner for the Kanto half of the continent. He was also a war hero or villain depending on where you sat. None of the Johto gym leaders were eager to see a replacement, especially given the majority they held between the Elites and Champion. The last year had seen a lean in the Silver League's policy towards Johto. It wasn’t overt, no one was that stupid, but more and more policy had begun to favor the west.

The Kanto leaders had opposed these changes of course, but they were... divided. Haze’s death had come at a time when old grudges were resurfacing. None of his children had been able to fill his shoes, and that only worsened the issue. Divided, the Kanto gym leaders had been unable to oppose the new legislation, or stand united to push a candidate to replace Haze.

This was why the Johtoans responded with amusement instead of seriousness. While Koga had never been suggested before, they knew well the history of Kanto. It was impossible they thought, for him to be a real option. Too much bad blood.

Koga took the scorn and amusement and enjoyed it. It was sweet, the product of hard labor. Years, decades, of work, of planning for this moment.

The world had changed so much in that time. He cast his gaze around the room, drinking in the reactions. His compatriots and his adversaries had changed in that time. Some becoming older, some disappearing to be replaced by the next generation. He couldn’t stop himself from lingering on a certain face. Some... growing.

It had been decades now, since he’d responded to an odd report stemming from an odder blip on the defenses. What he’d found there had changed his fate and that of so many other people. To this day it was his least popular decisions and one of the best kept secrets on the continent. Many still vilified him for it and on that single day he’d lost more friends and advisors than any other. Those relationships that weren’t lost had been strained, both professional and personal.

Was it worth it?

Koga believed so. History would tell of course, but he believed so. It was likely he would be vilified for his choices in the end whether it be judged worth it or not.

Yet if placed back in the marsh on that day, Koga would have extended that hand anyway. He hoped that if pushed to do the same, that that young child with glowing eyes and disarrayed hair would do the same.

Few of his lessons were kind. Many were not fair. He was not a warm man. That had been leeched from him long ago. Still he was proud.

She had come so far.

There was the general fussing over his candidacy, the questions to his abilities, the accusations of favoritism and bias. Delays, not blockers. The vote came.

Viridian and Pewter were first from the Kanto side. Their votes were swift and in his favor. Both cities were on the border of the regions and neither had short memories. A strong Kanto was all they wanted. Koga had not alerted them to his move, but he had prepared.

The initial Johtoan votes were of no surprise. The cities on the opposite side of the border wanted the opposite, and they too remembered his part in the war.

Then things changed.

Morty, the leader of the Ghost gym representing Ecruteak city voted in favor. He was swiftly followed by Chuck of Cianwood and the Johtoan Fighting gym.

Koga hid his surprise, and searched for a reason why. Before he could puzzle it through, he heard a quiet cackle in the back of his mind.

Agatha was laughing again.

Before complaints and questions could start, Sabrina, the premier psychic on the continent, stood. She was the representative of a storied clan, one which held great sway over Kanto. The Johtoan side relaxed, prepared for the inevitable like a flock of Murkrow.

“The Voyants vote in favor of the candidacy.”

Uproar.

Koga let his smile free.

-.-

“... I welcome Elite Koga.” Lance announced through gritted teeth. The man was never good at controlling his emotions. Or, perhaps he was, given his family and Pokemon. Either way, being blindsided and faced with a new Elite member without any say on the process had strained his temper. “As there is no other representative for Fuchsia, I’m afraid you will need to remain in your position for the remainder of the meeting.”

Pettiness was a miserable flaw, and won the Champion no friends or respect.

Koga had expected this however, so dipped his head graciously without argument. The meeting was all of done as well. Nothing of real import would be decided today. The players were reeling from the upset, and new lines needed to be drawn across the table while they licked their wounds.

The world had been changing and everyone was wondering whether this was a cause or a symptom.

A flash of worry seized his heart. Koga would not be seeing the flowers of his hometown for a long time. After a year at three-quarter's strength, there was plenty for the Elite to do. He would be busy. The workload would not bother him. This was how he made his soul safe, this is how he saved Fuchsia.

He had prepared as best he could, yet his heart was still vulnerable.

Koga’s sins would be her strength. His bonds would be her support. She had patience and principle to spare while his was running short. In many ways, she was unlike her sister, for what else was an apprentice but a child of another kind, yet powerful still. They held such similarities though, that Koga wondered if he was the source.

He worried, but this was all he could do.

Janine would be fine.