Violet City Gym, November 22nd, 1997

“ Hurricane , Pidgeot!”

Red shifted his footing, keeping himself still despite the high winds. Though the opponent across from him added onto the raging gale of the raining arena, neither him nor his pokémon were moved.

They had stood against the Source Storm, and prevailed.

Red shifted his body an inch, and Frogadier shifted with him - as seamless as air - unwavering as blurred knives shot past him from the veteran Pidgeot’s Steel Wing.

Red tilted his head, considering, as Falkner commanded his father’s pokémon to speed up with Agility. Red frowned lightly - the longer Pidgeot stayed away, the stronger it would grow - and muttered just loud enough for Frogadier to hear, “ Swords Dance , but keep watch.”

Red had half an eye on the old Pidgeot as it flew faster - its use in this battle was an interesting gambit by the new Gym Leader; using veteran pokémon previously trained by his late father - and he saw the moment that the bird’s eye sharpened, before shifting its wings to dive in a speeding Brave Bird .

Red shifted his stance, mimicking Frogadier, and the two of them stepped forward, Red bringing up his right hand alongside Frogadier to block the attack.

Red winced as pain broke across his arm. He should have recoiled with the attack, lessening its damage.

He was rusty with their bond.

Despite the lingering concern of a potential broken arm - which, added with his fall just a few days prior, didn’t help matters - Red brought up his left fist with Frogadier, crunching it against Pidgeot’s face in a Counter attack.

Red hissed to himself as he disengaged with the bond, watching dispassionately as the old bird blasted against the far wall, fainting from their attack. Red spared a moment to glare at his right arm, willing the pain to go away, or to at least numb, before Falkner’s next pokémon was released.

Regardless of his pain, it was worth sharing it with Frogadier.

Falkner didn’t offer any words before sending out his next pokémon - a Tropius, visibly scarred; another of his father’s - which Red could appreciate. Nearly every other Gym Leader thus far had felt the need to run their mouths, either praising his skills or passive-aggressively ridiculing his tactics.

Red didn’t care either way, since he could count the number of people whose opinion he cared for on two hands - nearly one at this point . Though, he had learned that Salvare took offence on his behalf, even after Red told him that it didn’t matter to him.

It was just meaningless words.

As Tropius added to the Hurricane , Red decided to spice it up a little, “ Icy Wind . Prepare to jump.”

Red noted a small, hopeful grin on Falkner’s face, “ Sunny Day , Tropy! Then slam down with a Leaf Storm! ”

Red hummed - The Leaf Storm would be problematic - “Prepare a Toxic Dagger , Frogadier.” The frog extended a hand, forming a bubbling, seething blade of acidic water. Red waited a moment for the sun to breach through the rain clouds, before commanding, “ Acrobatics! ” at the same time that Tropius extended its wings, pushing forth a wall of sharpened leaves in a Leaf Storm .

Red opened his connection once more, shifting around his podium as Frogadier hopped, twirled, and pushed past the storm. Despite the ninja’s dexterity, though, a small amount of sharpened leaves tore into its skin.

It didn’t slow the frog down, and Red ignored the red trickle down his leg as he slammed his hand against the podium in a stabbing motion, smiling grimly as the Tropius barked out in pain, before shaking off the ninja.

Red didn’t let this deter them, though, instead calling out, “ Bounce !”

Red crouched down, bracing for impact, as Frogadier hit the ground and used its momentum to spring back up.

Red’s leg throbbed painfully, breaking his connection as Frogadier stabbed another Toxic Dagger into Tropius’ neck - a critical hit - prompting the beast to buckle.

Red’s vision flashed crimson as Tropius slammed into the earth - Frogadier still holding onto its neck - raging in creeping agony with a Stomping Tantrum.

Red was about to command Frogadier to scatter Toxic Spikes around the arena, but stopped as the frog did it without prompting.

The Hurricane was beginning to die down by this point, which suited Red just fine. While it wasn’t debilitating to his pokémon, it was certainly annoying in how it aided Falkner’s pokémon in dodging their attacks.

Red had to hand it to the kid; he at least came with a solid strategy against him.

This strategy had actually led to Pichu fainting earlier than Red expected, given that the high winds took more stamina out of Pichu, given his small frame.

It didn’t stop the little monster from downing two pokémon, fainting shortly after outlasting a particularly ruthless Gliscor.

Red turned his attention back to a grim-faced Falkner, who hesitated before shouting out, “One last attack! Solarbeam! ”

Red snapped back into the bond, jerking his body to the side with a snarl, “ Quick Attack to the side!” Had it been a normal Solarbeam , Frogadier would have easily been able to dodge. However, with the Sunny Day still active on the battlefield, Frogadier had only just moved when the flaming beam escaped the Tropius’ mouth.

Red didn’t break the connection, even as the Solarbeam blasted Frogadier’s side. Red’s grip on the podium caused the wood to crack as he brought his other hand up to wrap around his gut.

His ribs weren’t too happy with him at the moment.

But he’s healed through worse.

Frogadier struggled on his knees, having been blasted against the wall. Though the frog staggered from the attack, he shakily returned into an offensive stance, glaring at the shivering Tropius.

Had Red not shared the pain through the bond, Frogadier would have been knocked out cold.

Red’s lips thinned as he looked upon Frogadier. Though the ninja hid it well, he was running on fumes - they both were .

Though Frogadier’s evolution allowed it to endure more damage than he had as Froakie, it didn’t make this battle a cakewalk. In fact, had Frogadier not had the fortune to evolve, Red wondered if they would have even made it this far before losing.

The fact was that, for all of their experience, they were weak . Before Frogadier’s evolution, Charmander held the most endurance, which was still far less than even Pikachu in his prime.

Still, after being able to consistently contend and best teams with an Elite-tier pokémon, Red had developed the confidence - arrogance - that the Gym challenge was no issue to him.

Then, of course, Falkner decided to bring not one Elite pokémon, but three.

Additionally - and Red had to begrudgingly commend Falkner for this - his terms of battle only allowed a single switch on either side, one that Falkner had used up in the beginning of the match.

Noticing a small stumble in Frogadier’s stance, Red decided to give the frog a chance to recuperate from his injuries before their final push. At the same time that he recalled Frogadier to switch in with Charmander, Falkner took the chance to command, “ Rest !”

Red hissed - he had been wary of that - and pointed Charmander to his enemy, “Get a Fire Spin on it, then stay away and Dragon Dance until I say otherwise.”

There was a certain amount of risk that Red was pulling with this tactic. While the Fire Spin would certainly hamper the Grass/Flying type if it hit - which Red was certain of - it wouldn’t knock out the creature.

Even though Frogadier had landed two Toxic Daggers , which were highly effective against Grass-type pokémon, the Tropius’ slow metabolism prevented the poison from spreading far enough to cause it to faint. Still, Red had hoped that it would have been enough for Charmander to finish it off, but any remaining poison would be purged from its system once its Rest was complete.

Common convention would state that the best tactic at this point would be to knock out the creature before it could wake up. Given Charmander’s type advantage along with the opponent’s wavering stamina, it would be easily feasible.

However, Falkner still had one pokémon left after Tropius fell, and Red had noticed something of a pattern in Falkner’s strategy. For one, given that three out of four pokémon thus far were his father’s, it was highly likely that the last would be as well. Additionally - and Red really should have considered this beforehand - it wasn’t as if Red’s team was private knowledge.

Outside of the fact that Gym Leaders talk with one another, Red’s trainer profile was easily accessible on the pokenet. For anyone who wanted to prepare for a fight against him… well, it would be rather obvious which three pokémon he would bring, considering they were his only pokémon.

Thus, it was rather easy to build a team specially suited to counter him, especially when one’s focus was Flying type, which had a wide array of readily available secondary typings.

While this type of team building was never Red’s cup of tea - honestly, it reminded him more of Gary’s intricate style - it seemed that Falkner took part in it, given that he had sent out a Gliscor to counter Pichu, and a Tropius to counter Frogadier.

At this point, Red almost expected the final pokémon to be Gyarados - and, honestly, that would spell disaster . While it was definitely more at home in a Water Gym, or even a Dragon Gym, it was technically Flying type, which would allow Falkner to use it.

It was for these reasons that, instead of rushing to take down the Tropius, Red wanted to build up Charmander’s strength with as many Dragon Dances as he could. While Frogadier’s evolution was certainly a major boon in endurance and dexterity, Charmander and Pichu still remained comparatively frail.

Charmander wouldn’t be able to endure more than a few Water attacks.

Right now, his best bet was to dodge them.

Red allowed a moment to survey the battlefield, now that they had a brief respite. It was a barren battlefield, with some small rocks providing minimal cover, some of which were partially destroyed from previous attacks.

Charmander wouldn’t have the benefit of being able to hide behind cover. Whatever happened when the next pokémon was released, it was going to be swift and brutal.

Red almost smiled.

Charmander would at least appreciate the fight.

Red snapped back to attention as the Tropius roused awake, Falkner sighing with relief after yelling himself hoarse.

Red was somewhat surprised that the Tropius apparently didn’t know Sleep Talk.

But then again, if he recalled correctly, the move didn’t become widespread until 2000.

Huh…

Red shook his head - it didn’t matter - and pointed forwards, “ Flame Charge ! Go around the back!”

With the Sunny Day still active, the flames wrapping around Charmander as he charged forward blazed ever brighter.

Falkner’s face seemed panicked - for the first time in the match - as he surged forward, “Meet it with Bulldoze !”

The Tropius stomped on the ground with a shaky huff, before drawing upon the energy of the ground to meet Charmander’s attack.

For what it was worth, Falkner’s attack did more than doing nothing, but it was clear that, given Charmander’s boosted speed and strength, the Tropius wouldn’t last much longer.

Falkner must have seen this as well, because as Red commanded Charmander to deliver the final blow with Fire Fang , Falkner stepped forward, his expression grim, but determined, “ Rain Dance , Tropy.”

It was a testament to the pokémon’s loyalty to its trainer that the Tropius obeyed, flapping its wings in the dance even as Charmander sunk his flaming teeth into it. This didn’t distract Red from the fact that Falkner was setting up a Rain Dance to counter Charmander.

It was well played.

As Falkner recalled the now unconscious Tropius, Red called out for Charmander to Dragon Dance once more, in preparation for the climax of the battle.

Swift and Brutal.

However, rather than the hulking Gyarados that Red had been expecting, Falkner sent out a rather plump Pelipper.

Despite the quick moment of slight incredulity Red experienced, he kept enough of his wits not to be caught off guard when Falkner commanded, “ Tailwind , then get close!”

Red’s lips twisted into a grim smile - more of a grimace, really - and spoke lowly, but quickly, “You aren’t going to be able to dodge it, Charmander,” - not that he believed Charmander intended to, given the brightening glint of Madness in the lizard’s eyes - “So make it bleed .”

As the raindrops grew to a downpour, Charmander roared , launching towards the careening bird, frothing at the mouth.

The resulting brawl was ugly, lacking the tactics and finesse that both he and Falkner employed before. Red didn’t have another choice in the matter, though, given that Falkner had driven him to a corner. The Gym Leader was to be commended for planning this battle well, far better than Red initially expected.

He had grown lax.

Outside of Team Source - outside of the Chariot - Red hadn’t seen anyone being a real threat.

Oh, sure, if he were to throw down against the likes of Champions - or even some Gym Leaders with their strongest teams - he knew he wouldn’t be able to best them as he was now. He may be able to inflict some damage - perhaps permanently, if no holds were barred - but he and his pokémon had yet to recover their strength.

In a way, this battle was a blessing. He had become arrogant . He had begun to fall behind on their training. While their regimen wasn’t lax by any means, it wasn’t even close to the nigh-constant waves of lethal encounters they faced before.

You have been neglecting your duty, Red.

Even as they are now, they shouldn’t have to struggle this much for victory.

If you falter now, then you are no match for the Chariot.

Red’s eyes glowed, and he blinked it away, focusing back on Charmander’s last stand.

Though he and Charmander both knew that there was minimal chance of the lizard besting the Pelipper, they would certainly make it pay the price.

Its feathers nearly appeared more red than white, bearing a number of gashes across its body and wings.

Though Red could see it falter in its flight, in the end it persisted enough to land a direct Hydro Pump on Charmander - thankfully missing the tail - knocking him out cold.

Ignoring the cheers from the crowd, Red coldly analysed the opposing Pelipper as he recalled Charmander, silently murmuring in thanks for the lizard’s contribution.

There were only a handful of seconds he was allowed to take between switches to scan the bird for weaknesses, but it was enough. The Pelipper was staggered in its flight, seeming to favour its right wing over its left. A quick glance at Falkner told Red that the Gym Leader noticed that as well.

It still held the benefit of its Tailwind , which was proving to be Red’s main downfall at this point in the match, but it was waning. Flicking his eyes once more to Falkner’s worried glance to Pelliper’s damaged wing, Red shifted into a ready stance as he called out Frogadier, “ Scald on the ground!”

As Frogadier emerged from his pokéball, he slid down in tandem with Red, pushing forth a ripple of boiling water onto the ground.

Falkner commanded Pelipper to Air Slash , but with the sudden burst of mist and steam from the ongoing rain, the attack missed its mark.

Red’s lips twitched.

“Frogadier,” Red called out, catching his pokémon’s attention, “ Double Team and continue to Scald the ground for cover,” He then pointed to Pelipper, specifically the damaged wing, “On my mark, harass the wing, but conserve your stamina.”

“ Gust! Get that mist away from him!” Falkner yelled out from across the stadium.

Yet, by the time his pokémon had successfully dissipated the cloud of steam near Red, it had split and began to surround the bird as several Frogadier duplicates ran across the raining arena, turning the falling water into steam as they went.

Yet, rather than paying any attention to the actual flight below, Red held his eyes on Falkner. The young man’s eyes were worried, specifically on the battered wing.

Red’s lips twitched once more, and he allowed himself a small smile as he pointed theatrically, raising his voice as loud as he could for Falkner to hear, “Attack the wing!”

“ NO! ” Falkner roared as several deceptively weak Water Pulses spiralled towards the bird - Red smiled, despite his coming exhaustion, as he tapped into Frogadier’s bond - “Get out of range!”

“Get close, ” Red hissed lowly, tugging on the bond to alert the real Frogadier amongst the hoard.

His eyes turned back up and watched as the Pelliper used the last of its Tailwind to evade the volley of Water Pulses . Now, assuming that Red’s analysis and manipulations of Falkner’s tactics were correct, he would-

“ Roost! ” Falkner cried out as Pelipper slowed down.

Red smiled, and whispered into the bond, “Bounce, and Smack Down with as much force as you can.”

And as Falkner sighed in relief from across the stadium, Red crouched down before Frogadier leaped into the air, bringing its hands together as it barreled down onto an astonished Pelipper with a resounding Smack Down.

Because, for all the good that healing its injuries did for Pelipper…

It was the speed gained from Tailwind that truly prevented Red from defeating it.

And now that was gone.

“Keep it down , Frogadier! By any means necessary! ” Red yelled out, disengaging his bond with the frog as his hands ached from banging down on the podium.

He was on track to being more damaged than his pokémon by the end of this.

Still, though Red had to fight his eyes from drooping, he kept his attention on the battle, though calling it that at this point would be something of a stretch.

While Falkner’s Pelipper had been a menace on the battlefield for the past several minutes, that was due to it flying with the boost of a Tailwind , preventing Red from landing any attacks without severe counterattacks.

Had he just sent out Frogadier with the command to go for broke, he would have lost. He could no longer rely solely on his pokémon’s power and experience, even if they outshined most even in their weakened states.

He had grown too stagnant in his battling, too confident. While he had initially gone into Gym Battles with specific strategies in mind, it had devolved to the point where he could largely sit back and allow his pokémon free reign.

He could only thank the timely evolution of Frogadier that he didn’t lose horribly. Had he been as he was even a week before, Red doubted he would have been able to knock out more than three of Falkner’s pokémon.

You need to step up your game, Red.

Red closed his eyes and sighed, resolving to devote more time to his pokémons’ training in the future. He looked down to see the Pelipper on the fringes of its strength, trying and failing to retake to the skies as Frogadier kept it down without mercy.

He was distantly aware of the rising grumbling and booing from the crowd, given that his end tactics could no longer be called honourable. He didn’t care what they thought, and a glance at Falkner showed him that the kid didn’t care much either, looking more resigned than angry.

It wasn’t much longer before Falkner recalled Pelipper, causing the referee to call the match in Red’s favour. As the audience began to leave, Frogadier limped up to Red’s side, eliciting a small, proud smile from him, “You did well.”

The frog huffed, shaking its head a bit, causing Red to frown. What was weighing Frogadier down? Before he could ask any more about it, though, Frogadier stepped to clasp Red’s hand tightly, sending a spark of trust through their bond.

Red’s smile grew a touch more, and he shifted his thoughts for later as he sent the feeling back to Frogadier. Frogadier closed his eyes as their bond closed - but never breaking, never again - and Red returned him to rest, before turning around in time to see Salvare reaching the edge of the challenger’s podium, Herren standing several paces behind him.

“Red!” Salvare took a moment to breath, seemingly winded from having to push through the crowd, “That was a fucking brilliant battle! I had no idea Falkner had such strong pokémon.”

Red raised an eyebrow at Salvare’s curse - that sounded more like Karen’s turn of speech - but replied all the same, “It surprised me as well. I almost didn’t win.”

Salvare blinked in astonishment, which both amused and concerned Red. Though Salvare was certainly far less reverent towards Red in how he acted, there was still a certain level of awe Salvare held towards Red, more than he was comfortable with.

He didn’t get much time to ponder that before Herren hummed, stepping up next to Salvare as he idly nibbled on a toothpick, “Well, whether that’s the case or not, it certainly didn’t seem like it,” Herren glanced at Red with an interested gleam in his light grey eyes, “And that’s not even mentioning whatever the hell was going on with you and that Frogadier.”

Red’s eyebrows rose in surprise - Herren had noticed that? - before sharply turning around as Salvare gasped, “You’re bleeding. ”

Red’s brow scrunched together as he followed Salvare’s line of sight to his legs, finding a dried trail of blood from his shin. He frowned, tapping the phantom injury only to find that it had clotted, “It’s not bleeding out, so it’s not an issue,” He rolled his eyes when he found Salvare glaring at him, “ Fine , I’ll bandage it up when we get to the Pokémon Center. Happy?”

Salvare didn’t get the chance to reply to Red’s snark, as he jumped with a light yelp when Falkner snuck up behind him, holding a badge in his hand as he eyed Red with a flicker of interest, “I apologise for the slight delay, had to fight a bit against the crowd,” Red had to repress a snort at the thought as Falkner grumbled, “Here’s your Zephyr Badge, which should be your last if I’m not mistaken.”

“It is,” Red confirmed, taking the badge with a small nod.

“Well,” Falkner ran a hand against his hair to keep it away from his eyes, “Before you head off, I have an opportunity you may be interested in, if you don’t mind?”

Red raised a curious eyebrow, “...I don’t… Mind, that is.”

Falkner nodded, looking somewhat distracted as he looked over Red’s shoulder, “Right, right…” Red glanced back towards Salvare and Herren as the Gym Leader stood somewhat nervously, only to see that they looked as confused as he felt. He turned back as Falkner blew out a breath, “Well… It’s to my understanding that you don’t have an official sponsor, is that right?”

“That’s right,” Red replied mildly, recalling the numerous times he had to devote his funds to his pokémons’ food and find his own meals… elsewhere .

“Well… I’m offering you one now,” Falkner finished, somewhat lamely.

Red blinked, “Oh, wow, okay…” He turned back to Salvare in mild surprise, only to find the kid nodding towards him supportively, “Didn’t really expect any offers at this point.”

Honestly, he had largely forgotten about them.

He had been… subsisting without it long enough that it had become standard.

“Y’know, I don’t know why you’re so surprised, Red,” Red turned to see Herren taking a step forward, Koi trailing behind with a small chirp, “Your name’s been spreadin’ far and wide. Hell, Henry said something about tracking you down for a sponsorship,” He paused before turning to face Salvare, “If I recall correctly, he also said something about you as well.”

Red narrowed his eyes in thought, not noticing Falkner’s slight frown as he did so, “...If I recall correctly, Henry is Professor Elm, yes?”

Herren turned back Red with a small smirk, “So you do listen,” He straightened, seeming to force his face into a more serious visage, “Actually, since you’re headin’ to Silver Town for the Conference, we can swing by New Bark Town to actually get all the stuff for the sponsorship,” He paused, before backing up with a small grin, “That is, if you’re not lookin’ to take this here man’s offer instead.”

Red frowned in thought, turning back to face Falkner. Just a few minutes before, he hadn’t even been thinking about sponsorship, and now it seemed like he had two high-profile offers.

On the one hand, having a Gym Leader as his sponsor would definitely be more simple, at least in terms of requirements. He’s already participating in the League, which is the main requirement, and his battles at battling rings and other places would satisfy any other requirement. Also, with Falkner being based in Johto, his sponsorship would have more influence in closely aligned regions such as Kanto and Sinnoh, though not as much as it would be from a sponsorship from an Elite-Four, such as Karen’s.

On the other hand, assuming that Herren isn’t talking out of his ass - which he hasn’t given any past indication of doing - having a Regional Professor as a sponsor would open more doors on an international front, given his experience with Professor Oak. Of course, Elm’s name isn’t quite as well-recognisable as Oak’s, but it still holds some level of authority, enough for Red to get a foothold where he needs to, at least.

There is the matter of finding out how deep Team Source is within the League…

And for him to do so, he needs to be close…

While Elm’s offer would hold more requirements, Red highly doubted it would be more strenuous than anything he had to do in his tenure with Oak. Not to mention that Salvare was apparently also being poached…

If nothing else, Red remembered Elm being agreeable enough, even if clumsy…

Red turned to Herren, “You’re certain that Professor Elm would give his sponsorship?”

Herren jerked his head in a nod, replacing a toothpick he had bit through, “Aye, and the kid too,” Salvare protested feebly as the taller man ruffled his red hair.

Red nodded to himself and turned back to Falkner, who now looked more resigned than anything else, “Your offer is just for me? Not both of us?”

Falkner frowned, looking Salvare over as he murmured, “Didn’t know you were a packaged deal,” He shook his head, “Nevermind that. Even if I wanted to have him on as well, there’s only one spot open.”

Red nodded before extending a hand to shake, “I appreciate the offer, Falkner, but I won’t be taking it.”

Falkner sighed even as he shook Red’s hand, “It was worth a try. You gave a hell of a battle earlier; it seems your growing legend isn’t made up.”

Red frowned a small bit - his mind instantly went to beings such as Arceus or Zygarde at the thought of ‘legend’ - murmuring, “I still have to be better. For their sake. ”

Red blinked when he realised what he said, but before he could mentally berate himself for a slip, Falkner nodded, “Well… I suppose I’ll see you at the Conference then?” At Red’s nod, he flashed a small, but genuine, smile, “I look forward to seeing your performance. It’s been a long time since anyone’s challenged me for their eighth badge,” He shook his head as he began to walk away, grumbling to himself, “ Maybe people will realise that I can actually fight.”

Red raised an eyebrow, not hearing exactly what Falkner had grumbled, but having a decent idea of the young man’s frustration.

He didn’t pay any more mind to it as he turned back, “C’mon. Once my pokémon are healed, we’ll head out for New Bark Town.”

…

Team Rocket Base R-1, Underneath Viridian City Gym

“I am the strongest pokémon in the world.”

A void. A terrible emptiness, bearing neither the light of stars or the dark of hells.

I grasp blindly, searching with no sight, for my eyes are open, yet unseeing. I feel myself drifting aimlessly, yet I remain ever in control, always in control.

There is naught a single breath of which I am not aware, naught a single moment of which that leaves my mind.

My awareness is ever-expanding, cataloguing the souls, drives, spirits, desires, hatreds, loves, lusts, demons, and angels of all around me. Yet, for all of my vision, I see naught but a void within.

What am I?

Who am I?

What is my purpose?

“I see you as a valuable partner.”

Before me, standing as a shadow against the inferno of my rage, is the one who promised to show me the answers to my questions.

To reveal to me what I can do, how I can grow.

To reveal to me the depths of my power, the difference of precision and force.

To reveal to me my purpose in this world, born as an artificial god amongst man.

‘a god born in tubes.’

Yet, as I stare at the man - the shadow - before me, I can find nothing…

No answers…

No solutions…

No salvation…

Only lies…

Mewtwo opened his eyes, and upon doing so, the sensors and wires along his helmet registered for the eye sockets to glow a dull blue.

Mewtwo waits, feeling the phantom sensation of needles piercing his skin, of tubes and wires twisting in and out of his bones.

To monitor him.

To limit him.

He lays still, suspended midair as if he was a foetus, crossing his arms and legs and tail into a ball, wrapping the intersecting wires, tubes, and shards of metal around him as if it was a cocoon.

The thought brings no comfort to the creature.

Still connected to the needles and wires within him were computers, lined in rows and screens showing numbers and charts, revealing the systemic beat of his three - human - hearts and the melodic cycle of his seven lungs, breathing in as one breathed out before going to the next, rising and lowering almost as if it was a wave.

Of course, a creature such as he did not require the use of lungs to breathe.

And for all that there was silence in the chamber - the tomb - it was growing to be unbearably loud in his mind.

Who am I?

Who am I?

What is my purpose?

‘To live.’

Mewtwo writhed, as it always did when it heard that voice upon his mind.

It was the loudest of the voices, yet it spoke in only a whisper.

Mewtwo shivered, and desired silence.

With nary but a thought, the needles in his skin snapped and flaked away, becoming nothing more than atoms as the monitors on the screens all went blank.

Ahhhhh…

Blissful silence.

Then, an alarm rang out.

Mewtwo huffed in annoyance, flicking a finger to crush the insides of the speakers blaring their insipid noises.

It was too late by that point, though, as the door to his chamber had already opened, and two of Giovanni’s pawns bumbled in, “Shit! The vitals are all zero! If that creature’s dead, the boss’ll be pissed! ”

“That creature is right here,” Mewtwo grumbled, lowering onto the floor with a loud slam as the metal husk he wore impacted metal flooring. The two idiots could only gape, cowering in primal fear from the creature, who could only roll his eyes at the vile, pitiful ants, “I grow tired of waiting, humans. Bring your leader to me. I wish to speak with him.”

The two pitiful insects seemed to take that as an opportunity to descend even lower, prostrating to him, thanking him for such inane things as grace or mercy.

As if he cared about such.

Mewtwo only flicked a metal-covered hand, sending the two idiots sprawling out of the room. They were lucky, really. At the beginning of his ‘partnership’ with Giovanni, Mewtwo usually just snapped the necks of any who dared annoy him.

He quickly stopped, though it wasn’t due to any of Giovanni’s wishes, even if the man seemed to believe otherwise. No, for all that Mewtwo had developed a general distaste for humanity, he felt no real desire to needlessly end their lives, and no satisfaction in the act.

A small, feminine voice insisted that he was good…

Mewtwo didn’t really know what he was at this point, and it only served to stoke his rage into something colder, more desperate.

Before long, the door opened once more, and before him stood the shadow who had promised so much and had delivered so little - Mewtwo was already tired of him - “I see you were merciful with my grunts, Mewtwo.”

“Their lives mean little to me, Giovanni,” Mewtwo rumbled, saying the man’s name not in a form of respect, but in a form of acknowledgement, “How much longer shall I do nothing here?”

Giovanni chuckled, and the flames of Mewtwo’s cold rage grew, “Patience, my friend. You will find your moment of glory soon enough-”

“How soon?” Mewtwo interrupted with an agitated rumble, “So far, it seems your definition of ‘glory’ is stomping children and their ill-trained vermin.”

“Ah,” Giovanni raised a single finger, “But that is training for you , my friend, to know when and how to apply your power.”

“What is the use of such when they are nothing before me?” Mewtwo asked, stepping forward with a metallic clank, “What is the use of limiting my power with this suit?”

Giovanni remained calm, standing straight as he answered, “For you to be precise with your power on the large-scale, you must first be able to do so on the small-scale.”

Mewtwo grumbled, but after a moment, stepped back with a small hiss, “My patience is not unlimited.”

“I’m aware,” Giovanni replied with a nod, “You will not have to wait long, though,” He smiled as Mewtwo turned to him - his smile was never kind - “We have a large scale attack planned in a month’s time, and I’d like for you to join.”

Mewtwo knew, of course, that Giovanni wasn’t really giving him a choice, but he was too interested to be annoyed at the assumption that the man truly had any control over him, “What is it?”

Giovanni crossed his arms behind his back as he idly surveyed the computers lining the room, “The organisation has had considerable growth this year. Aside from the failure of Operation Shellder, Team Rocket has solidified its foothold in Kanto and has grown its influence to the outer reaches of Johto.”

Turning back to see Mewtwo staring emotionlessly through the armour, Giovanni smirked, “Given our momentous growth this past year, I thought it high time for us to move on to bigger targets…” Giovanni hummed as he tapped the glass of one of the monitors, frowning lightly as he did so before brightening up as he continued, “As such, I’ve planned Operation Rhydon to be an attack at the Silver Conference. There’s a great number of valuable targets that will be there, not to mention valuable intel…” Giovanni trailed off with a faraway look in his eye.

Mewtwo growled lightly as it watched the man, a sound made beautiful in its outer harmony and terrible in its inner discordance, “And what is my part to play in this… attack of yours?”

Giovanni’s eye sparked as he sent a cruel smile to the armoured creature, “Why, it’s a… declaration , if you will,” He extended a hand towards Mewtwo, “You are the strongest pokémon in the world… and with a high number of Indigo’s strongest trainers there, it would be the perfect opportunity to prove it, would it not?”

Mewtwo narrowed his eyes, though Giovanni couldn’t see it behind the dull glow of the armour’s lenses, “I am to be there as merely your muscle?”

“ No ,” Giovanni hissed, turning his eyes away from the creature, “It was my impression that you were looking to prove your place in this world…” He trailed off with a pointed glance towards the creature.

Mewtwo didn’t bother to restrain the dormant rage in his spirit as he replied, “Yesss…” He raised his head, flexing the pads of his hands, “...I suppose I do.”

“Excellent,” Giovanni murmured in satisfaction, turning towards the door, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be off. It’s busy work, after all.”

Mewtwo didn’t speak - didn’t move - as Giovanni left. He stood in silence for several minutes, idly noting the charts on the computers resume their course, the twinings and needles within his suit piercing once more into his skin.

To prove my place in this world…

To find my purpose…

Mewtwo closed his eyes, and for one blissful moment, the world outside of his soul was just as void as within.

Who am I?

“I am the strongest pokémon in the world,” the mantra - the prayer - repeated once more upon the creature’s mind.

What is my purpose?

Mewtwo rose, using but a small fraction of his psychic power to lift himself and his metal husk back towards the platform he rests upon.

I am a creature, born of god and man.

Images flashed across Mewtwo’s mind, fragmented memories of once was and never would be again.

A mountain, a jungle, an island.

A father of all creatures.

The stars, the moon, the darkness.

A small, kind face of a little girl.

As Mewtwo stares at the face, he almost remembers…

But anytime he looks away, it fades away as the wind.

“ I am the strongest pokémon in the world,” Mewtwo repeated once more - and before him stood the father of that he loved, that he could no longer recall - and crossed his arms, “An abomination against nature,” Mewtwo rumbled - and a voice, compassionate and young, cried out in dissent - and crossed his legs, “a god born in tubes…” Mewtwo whispered - and a demon, wreathed in flame, smiled as the shadow of death descended upon him, a shadow with eyes of void - and tucked in his tail.

“I am Mewtwo,” He declared, for that was the only thing he knew for certain, “And I will find my purpose…”

With or without Giovanni…

Only time would tell…

…

Route 30, Outskirts of Cherrygrove City, November 26th, 1997

“Again.”

Red ignored Charmander’s agitated snarl, instead focusing on the size and strength of the flame from the beast’s blue Ember.

He shifted his legs as he jotted down his notes. He had been crouching for nearly four hours by this point, and any feeling in his legs have long since numbed by this point. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be crouching for an entire day, given the lingering pains in his leg, but Red’s priorities weren’t focused on himself, but rather on his pokémon.

This day was dedicated towards Charmander, and how they could improve his capabilities. It was a bit of a slog to go through, given that Red was noting down as many observations and ideas as possible, but it was worth it.

It was necessary, after all, and Red had already put it off for far too long. Once he was finished with Charmander, he would be doing the same with Pichu tomorrow.

While Frogadier’s evolution was a blessing in many ways, it did highlight a rather glaring problem that they all were facing.

They weren’t getting any stronger.

Oh, sure, Pichu could sustain more electricity than he was able two months ago, and Charmander was able to more consistently produce flames, but these were relatively small improvements.

Back, in the time of the Storm, they had the strength to take down gods.

Red hadn’t given much thought - not truly - to his pokémons’ devolution, not when he was still reeling from everything else.

He had been dead one moment, then suddenly very alive the next, ten whole years in the past.

Then, by the time Red’s situation had settled down, and he could properly think about its effects, he had beaten Clair’s 5-Badge team, even with the handicap of their new, weakened forms, and such a thing didn’t seem as important as everything else he was facing.

Oh, sure, he certainly wondered about it. He still didn’t quite know what its cause was, even if he did have some theories. But he hadn’t placed any major importance to it, especially given that, soon enough, his focus was taken by Vee’s cry for help, then Celebi, then Salvare and Karen, then the Unown…

The fact was, Red never had much time to actually consider it beyond its most shallow connotations. Now, though, with the Silver Conference coming up and the Chariot’s surprise appearance - which was a whole other can of worms - he had to ponder it.

Lest the Ruins of Alph repeat itself, with Red not being as lucky…

Red closed his eyes, refocusing back to the present as Charmander lost patience with his routine, stomping forward to mangle the burnt stump in front of him with a myriad of Dragon Claws and Shadow Claws.

Charmander remains predisposed towards physical moves…

Red sighed as he flipped through his notes - his notebook was almost filled . Again, for all that Frogadier’s evolution raised them up, it also brought the question of how.

How did Frogadier evolve?

It wasn’t as if Frogadier evolved naturally . Had that been the case, all three of them would have evolved - perhaps fully - by this point, given the amount and rigour of battles they’ve faced.

Red initially thought it might have been due to the peril they faced, but that was sketchy at best. They had already faced similar instances of danger at the Lake of Rage and Goldenrod.

A brief, and terrible, idea rose in Red’s mind that the evolution - and, by extension, the devolution - somehow originated from the Chariot , but Red tossed that idea away as soon as it came.

Sure, the Chariot could be blamed for many of Red’s troubles, but that would be absurd…

…He hoped.

Red took a moment to spare a glance behind him, watching as Frogadier gently coerced Vee transforming more and more into a singular Vaporeon, softly but firmly pointing out points where she sported features of Umbreon or Flareon.

Frogadier caught Red’s eye, and quickly turned away, seemingly embarrassed at Red’s scrutiny. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as Vee chirped up at the frog, wondering what caused his head to turn.

He was glad that Vee seemed to enjoy her time with his pokémon, given that Red had to keep her in her pokéball anytime he was near Herren.

He didn’t quite trust him with this secret.

Red’s smile turned to a frown as he looked back towards Charmander, thinking back to Frogadier’s apparent doubt of his performance back at their Gym match against Falkner.

Why did Frogadier seem down?

In fact…

Red turned back to Frogadier for a brief moment before looking back to the pile of woodchips left in Charmander’s rage.

Perhaps the question wasn’t how Frogadier evolved.

But rather why?

Like it or not, there was always a mental aspect to consider when it came to his pokémons’ health. It was one of - if not - the first things he learned as a pokémon trainer.

Even to this day, Pichu vehemently fought against being placed within a pokéball, even when the alternative was death.

Red frowned as he thought deeper into it. There was some merit to the idea of his pokémons’ evolution holding some mental aspect, even if it wasn’t the whole cause.

Evolution, in it of itself, was a mental process just as much as it was physical. It was often intertwined with a pokémon’s maturity and growth, just like a human’s physical growth coincided with their mental growth.

Just look at Charmander’s initial evolution into Charizard. The beast had rapidly changed personality from being relatively meek and subservient to being brash and unruly.

Of course, a part of that was due to Red’s inexperience as a trainer at the time, but a lot of Charmander’s change in personality came with the evolution.

The same was true with Frogadier’s initial evolution, to a lesser extent. While he and Red had always had a deep connection, that connection only strengthened further as the frog evolved, reaching its peak when Frogadier became Greninja and connected with Red in such a way that caused their Bond to form.

Looking at it from this perspective, it made an odd sort of sense just why Red’s pokémon hadn’t been able to evolve.

They had already grown.

They had already matured.

But Frogadier had evolved, and it wasn’t like he had greatly changed since the evolution. The most Red could point to was Frogadier’s newfound protectiveness over Vee, but they all felt that, to some extent.

So. What. Was. The. Cause?

Red grumbled as he closed the notebook. He wouldn’t be able to do much more than stress himself out over it at this point, and he didn’t need more stress than he already had. He looked over towards Charmander, who was halfheartedly scratching at a branch on the ground.

Red sighed before bringing his fingers to his mouth to whistle Charmander over. He waited patiently as the lizard huffed a breath of blue sparks before hobbling towards him.

Red allowed himself to sit - and, oh, suddenly all feeling, good and bad, returned to his legs - and spoke plainly, knowing that Charmander wouldn’t want him skirting around anything, “It seems like, until you evolve, you won’t be able to produce enough fire for anything more than an Ember .”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Even though Red expected it, seeing Charmander slump down didn’t make him any less sympathetic.

He was beginning to understand that Charmander’s lack of strong fire affected the beast more than he initially thought.

“You hold the stamina for it, but not the reserves,” Red continued, not allowing Charmander’s despondent look to stop him, “It isn’t your fault that this is the case, Charmander. It just means that we have to push in different ways.”

Red made sure to affirm Charmander’s lack of fault in this. Even though, intellectually, all of them knew that all of this was out of their control, it oftentimes didn’t stop it from feeling like it was.

Red placed a hand on Charmander’s head, bringing the lizard’s face back up to face his, “Don’t bring yourself down, Charmander. While we’re weak now, we will get our strength back,” Red smiled - and if there were more teeth in his smile than was natural, who was to say? - “Who knows? Given how much stronger you’ve become in this form, imagine how much stronger you’ll be by the time you’re back to your prime?”

Charmander seemed roused by Red’s words, standing up straighter with a small snarl. Red smiled as he did so, only dimming it as he noticed Charmander’s gaze land upon Frogadier, darkening as they did so, “Hey, the fact that Frogadier evolved means that you can ,” Red shook Charmander’s shoulder with a determined growl, “It means that you will . But until then, we’ll make up for our strength in other ways.”

Seeing Charmander’s look of interest, Red grinned, “Right now, your greatest strength is your endurance and physical power. However, most of that power comes in the form of raw attacks, focusing more on force than technique.”

Red made the conscious decision to specify technique rather than skill.

While Charmander’s technique was rather simple, it still took hard-earned skill to maximise one’s natural strength.

“You’re proficient in wide array of attack types,” Red continued, kneeling closer to Charmander as he began to outline his idea for future training, “However, our strategy thus far has largely been outlasting our opponents,” Red looked into Charmander’s triangular eyes, “Now… we need to learn how to outmanoeuvre them.”

Red stood as Charmander stewed on his words, “I have some ideas going for specific moves to learn, but starting off, I’ll be having you work with Frogadier and myself to learn basic Fighting techniques.

Charmander scoffed, though Red could tell it was more in jest than not, and Red smiled self-deprecatingly, “I know you’re not a Fighting type, but the actual technique involved isn’t type-exclusive,” - just the extra Fighting aura behind it - “And while I’m certainly not as durable as the rest of you, I do know a decent amount of this sort of thing.”

Once more, Lucario’s lessons prove invaluable.

Red lightly shook his head, allowing himself a small, almost mischievous smirk as he murmured, “Besides… Imagine the shock from all those Charizards at the Valley when they see their chieftain fighting with some actual finesse. ”

This elicited a snort from Charmander, which made Red’s smile soften. It was something of a risk to bring up that bit of the lizard’s past - like everything else, it fell to the storm - but it was something of a nostalgic joke between him and Charmander how the only thing those at Charicific Valley seemed to understand was muscle, and nothing else.

The thought of the reserve brought Red’s musings to a halt as he considered something, “You know… It’s not too out of the way…” Red frowned - it was maybe a two day detour, if they were fast - and turned to Charmander, “We could turn around and-”

Before Red could finish, Charmander turned away with a huff of bluish smoke.

Red nodded solemnly to himself, understanding Charmander’s desire not to face those who Charmander had once loved, had once mourned.

It wasn’t as if Red was much different in that regard.

He had made a point not to search for anything regarding his younger counterpart, lest he be reminded of his failures by living faces.

Red placed a hand on Charmander’s shoulder, and, rather than shaking it off as the lizard had done for the past two months, he accepted it.

The two of them walked back to camp, the sun beginning to set behind them.

…

Red returned in time to find Salvare meditating with Feraligatr, along with Herren cooking dinner by a campfire.

Since the events of the Ruins of Alph - and his encounter with the Chariot - Red had spent most of his time working towards his pokémons’ former strength.

They would need it.

It was remarkably lucky that none of his pokémon had suffered anything more than scrapes and bruises. Red had broken a few ribs, along with nearly doing the same to his arm, but that was an acceptable price.

Red was more than happy to bleed for his pokémon.

His injuries had largely healed by this point, though his arm still ached. Salvare had wanted Red to get treated at a Pokémon Center - which doubled as a small hospital - but Herren had actually supported Red’s decision not to.

After all, the last time he got himself involved at a Pokémon Center, he had stolen medical equipment for Vee.

Due to Red’s focus on his pokémons’ training, Salvare’s aura training had largely been delegated to periods of meditation with his pokémon, specifically meant to identify and hone his aura.

It was a method based on a few of his lessons with Lucario. It was meant to strengthen one’s connection and understanding not only with their own aura, but that which surrounded them, eventually giving them the insight to touch and shape aura in far more precise ways. Apparently, such meditation was the primary method for their species to physically augment their attacks with spectral aura, with mastery usually leading to evolution.

It wasn’t quite as important with humans, given that, as Red had learned, most of what humans could do with aura can still be learned without such. However, from what he could tell, any high-level techniques couldn’t be done as a human without such mastery.

This did make Red wonder about the Aura Guardians, given that he learned his method of meditation from Lucario.

Perhaps they had a different method?

Red shook his head, serving food to his pokémon. While Red had become rather proficient in his understanding of aura, he had Lucario’s help to thank for that.

Salvare didn’t have that. Karen, who had largely taught the kid a few tricks, was gone, and Red was left with no idea how to teach even the basics.

He could only hope that Salvare could manage until Red had more time to actually train with him. Thankfully, Feraligatr’s presence seemed to help Salvare, given their preexisting connection.

Red would have to make his absence up to Salvare, along with everything else.

Red’s descent to guilt was halted when Herren perked up from his crouch, “Dinner’s done.”

Like the flick of a switch, Salvare sprang up, “Oh, thank Mew. I’m starving. ” He happily took a kabob from Herren’s fingers, who only gave a light smile as the kid began to tear into the meal.

For his own part, Red accepted the kabob with a touch more hesitance, though he didn’t say anything. He didn’t eat anything either, at least not until he saw Herren eat his own.

Call him paranoid, but Red remained on high-alert from his encounter with him . It didn’t help matters when, mere hours after it happened, he was saved by someone who he originally paid no mind to. Sure, Herren had helped him forge a new identity, and a backstory to boot, but he never expected to see the man again, especially in that circumstance.

Seeing Red’s suspicious glare, Herren rolled his eyes and bit heartily into his kabob, giving an exaggerated hum as Koi snuck a sliver of meat off of the edge.

Still eyeing Herren, Red allowed himself a bite of the kabob - and it was rather good; proper seasoning and a strong kick - as he recalled what he had learned of the man, and his association with Salvare.

It turned out that the two of them had met once before, about two years ago, when Salvare had been in ‘a tight spot’, as the kid called it.

Herren had not-so-subtly hinted at giving the same service to Salvare as he did to Red, which was to say that Salvare’s identity wasn’t real.

Salvare had been mortified when Red realised that.

Herren only seemed to find a grim humour in it.

Red… honestly didn’t feel too strongly on that matter. He had accepted that Salvare had been Judgement in another life, and that for Salvare to fall that far, some bad things would have to happen that hopefully wouldn’t this time around.

It didn’t escape Red’s notice that Judgement had never used, or mentioned, Feraligatr.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Red wasn’t hiding secrets of his own. Hell, Salvare had looked so shocked when he connected the dots that, in much the same way that Herren helped him forge a fake name and history, Herren must have done the same with Red.

Interestingly enough, after a single instance where Salvare hesitated saying Red’s - fake - name, he seemed to latch onto the name even more, as if it had always been Red’s name.

However, Herren’s connection with Salvare wasn’t the main source of Red’s suspicion.

It was the fact that Herren just seemed to know things.

Sure, the man didn’t seem stupid by any means when Red first met him, but he never expected Herren to hold such obscure wisdom .

The man was a field researcher for - “with,” Herren stressed - Professor Elm, yet he didn’t actually seem to do much research , at least not in the usual sense. Apparently, Herren provided Elm with more abstract, sometimes esoteric knowledge that he picked up on his travels, though he largely stuck to anything that had to do with pokémon breeding and genetics, which was Elm’s specialty.

“Of course,” Herren had added with a grin as he regaled this a few days earlier, “I like to keep a lot of what I learn to myself.”

Which was apparently a lot. Herren knew practical skills in forging and setting up shelter with few materials, along with having a golden touch with cooking. Even with his experience of living in the apocalyptic wilderness for three years, Red had even learned a few things from the man. Herren’s expertise didn’t stop there, as he actually offered an inspired strategy to Salvare in the middle of a practice bout with Red, actually giving the kid an advantage, even if it was only for a few moments.

Hell, one time, when Salvare had asked Red for a potion to heal his pokémon’s injuries, Red had responded, “It’ll have to wait, since my bag is back at camp.”

However - for some unknown reason that made Red want to smash his face in - instead of saying that in any language Salvare would have understood, what came out of his tongue was, “ Jhayde Nei-Dah, Ay Cacha en Dahi-Miuma. ”

Red had blinked, and scowled - his lapses in language had begun at the Ruins of Alph - opening his mouth to reiterate when Herren piped up from behind him, sounding considerably surprised, “ Ay Naahsa Jha Taka Raatak! ”

Both Red and Salvare had snapped their heads to him, eyes widened in astonishment. Before Red could ask - demand - how the man seemingly understood, and spoke this foreign language, Salvare had piped up, “Wait, that’s an actual language? I thought it was gibberish !”

Upon seeing that neither Red nor Salvare actually understood what he was saying, Herren backed down with a small - almost disappointed - smile, “Oh… nevermind about that. Besides, I have a potion you could use, kid.”

That seemed to quell Salvare’s curiosity, though Red knew he didn’t forget about it. Salvare seemed to be of the mind that Herren should be allowed his secrets - like them .

Red would agree in any other circumstance, but there was one, small detail that remained burrowed in the back of his mind.

For all of Herren’s wisdom and experience, he hadn’t breathed a single word about aura.

It wasn’t as if it was simply because Herren didn’t know about aura. Red was certain that the man did, given the man’s knowledge in other, similarly esoteric fields. This wasn’t even to mention the odd feeling in Red’s gut whenever he was around the man, which he found not too dissimilar to the one he felt around Karen.

Around the Chariot.

Shadows seemed to dance around Herren, using the light of the fire to cast spiralling shadows behind him that seemed to breathe in its own life. What separated Herren as a practitioner of Dark-type aura from someone who was merely inclined towards it was the level of subtle control the man seemed to have on the shadows and its movements.

Really, it was almost as if Herren wanted Red to call him out on it.

In fact… Red narrowed his eyes as the dimming campfire seemed to grow and shrink in tandem with Herren’s breaths. Perhaps that was what Herren wanted…

Though, did Red want to give the man that satisfaction, even to sate his curiosity?

…It wasn’t as if Red would lose anything if he did.

Deciding on his course of action, Red bluntly stated, “You’re an Aura Guardian.”

Across the fire, Salvare rose his head, eyes wide at the accusation. Meanwhile, to Salvare’s right, Herren merely stared into the dimming fire for several moments, before waving a negligent hand in front of him, blazing the fire further so that it burned as warm as it had several minutes ago.

Red crossed his arms as he leaned back, one part of him satisfied and the other still holding onto suspicion, “So… You’re both Dark and Fire type?”

Herren stared into the fire for a few more moments, his eyes reflecting the crimson blaze of the fire - almost mimicking Red’s own eyes - before turning to him with a small, manufactured smirk, “Took you long enough to ask. Even so, what if I am?”

Red’s mouth twisted at Herren’s challenging tone. He didn’t know if he could call it coincidence at this point that he had encountered two - three if he counted Salvare, and his latent abilities - tagalongs trained in aura. However, for all that she vexed him, Karen was… decent, as a person. He wouldn’t judge Herren too harshly for being an Aura Guardian, Rogue or not, but he still reserved judgement for why he held it from them.

“Why did you hide it?” Red asked, starting off his impromptu interrogation.

Herren only responded with a small, mocking chuckle - behind him, Salvare slowly inched his hands towards his pokéballs; smart kid - “Well, it’s not like I can go around proclaiming it,” He turned to Red, eyes hardened with an emotion that Red couldn’t quite place, “What? I didn’t know if I could trust you with it.”

“Yet you just said it ‘took me long enough’,” Red pointed out with gritted teeth - his eyes glowed, and were locked with Herren’s own - “ Don’t lie to me, you wanted me to find out. ”

Herren didn’t reply for a few seconds, seemingly captivated by the crimson glow of Red’s eyes. After a few moments, he tore his eyes away, extending a slow hand to pet Koi, who was trembling by his side, “Well… You intrigue me, Red.”

Red’s lips thinned - he was briefly reminded of the Emperor, and his parting words - and he barked out in question, “ Why? ”

“Because of this, ” Herren answered with a wave in Red’s direction, “You- You absolutely blaze with aura, like nothing I’ve ever seen ,” Now, Herren’s face seemed to crack from its nonchalant mask, piercing Red with a severe frown, “And from these past few days with you, it’s clear to me that you have no control over it. ”

Red narrowed his eyes - pinpricks of red reduced to slits - and hissed, “ What does that have to do with you? ”

Herren spread his hands, palms facing Red, “Nothing. I pack my bags right now, and leave y’all to your own devices,” Koi nudged against one of the man’s hands, though he paid no mind as he looked back to Red, his own eyes fading into darker shades of grey, “I’d rather not, though. If you remain like this, you’ll eventually hurt yourself,” Herren then tilted his head towards Salvare, whose eyes were flicking between Red and Herren in apprehension, “And you might hurt those you care about.”

Red’s face twitched, though he kept Herren within his stare, “ Why do you care? ”

Herren sighed, looking skywards as he groused out, “I have experience with this kid. While I wasn’t anywhere near your level of raw potential, I still lost control,” He looked back down to Red, and his eyes - darkened enough to almost appear black - were imploring, “ Let me help you, Red.”

Red’s frown deepened, and his eyes flicked towards Salvare, who no longer seemed quite so wary of Herren, instead eyeing Red in a vague, almost sad uncertainty.

Red turned his eyes back to Herren, and asked in a murmur, “ If it’s so bad, why didn’t you say anything when you met me? ”

“It wasn’t my place to say anything,” Herren answered, not visibly relaxing, but not tensing any further as he spoke, “Sure, I could tell you were gifted in aura, so what? It’s not the first time I’ve helped out a kid who was,” He nodded towards Salvare, who pierced Herren with a small frown, “Besides,” Herren shrugged, leaning back a touch, “You seemed fine when I first met you. It wasn’t until word reached back from Karen that I began to see otherwise.”

“You know Karen?” Both Red and Salvare asked, and Red sat back with a pained sigh, “ Of course you fuckin’ know Karen… ”

Herren didn’t say anything in response, only giving a small, cold smirk as he pet Koi. After a few moments, in which Red - whose eyes began to dim - nursed a headache, he grunted, “Let me guess, you’re a part of the Indigo Guardians?”

Herren snorted, “Agatha would sooner stab me in the gut than name me an official member,” He sighed as he leaned back, apparently finding the whole thing far more humorous than the other two, “I’m more of a consultant than a member . Though, by technicality, I suppose you could say I’m a Rogue Aura Guardian,” He flashed a smile at Red, which looked surprisingly genuine, “Much like yourself, in that regard.”

“Yeah, okay, neat ,” Salvare finally snapped out of his stupor, piercing Herren with a glare, “So you’re a secret Aura Guardian too? Why the hell is everyone so secretive about it?”

“Short answer: protection,” Herren deadpanned, “Long answer: repeated genocide some 2,000 years ago,” Herren shrugged, ignoring Salvare’s horrified look, “Above all else, aura is power , and everyone loves power.”

“We’re getting sidetracked,” Red interrupted with a wave of his hand. He turned to Herren, narrowing his eyes in thought as he asked, “So, am I to understand that you’re offering to train me to… control my aura?”

“More or less,” Herren shrugged, fiddling around in his pocket only to produce a toothpick, which he promptly placed in his mouth, “My biggest concern is getting that taken care of. Everything else…” Herren trailed off in thought as he handed Koi her own toothpick to chew on, “Well, you seem to have it in hand, teaching a protégé and all.”

Red turned to Salvare at the mention of him, eyes softening a touch as he recalled Herren’s warning from earlier.

You might hurt those you care about.

Memories briefly flashed in Red’s mind. He recalled the negligent power he wielded, blasting apart a forest with an Aura Sphere. He remembered the earthquakes he started underneath Goldenrod, leaving behind a trail of blind destruction in his rage. He winced at the memory of forcing Salvare and Karen into his heart, forcing them to feel his torn emotions not even two weeks ago.

He had already hurt them, even if it wasn’t physical.

Turning his eyes away from Salvare - who always held more compassion than Red deserved - Red asked, “Is there a benefit to Salvare learning as well?”

“Hmm?” Herren grunted, before nodding, “I don’t see why not. He doesn’t have quite the same need as you do, but having greater control over one’s aura is never a bad thing.”

Red nodded, silently accepting Herren’s offer. After a few moments, he asked, not out of suspicion, but out of curiosity, “Are there any other benefits aside from preventing any… outbursts?”

Herren smirked, and without uttering a word in response, held out his palm, sparking a small, condensed fire over his hand.

Seeing both Red and Salvare’s focus on him, Herren let out a full-blown grin, throwing the condensed flame onto the smoulders of the campfire, igniting it once more.

“Control doesn’t just mean preventing accidents,” Herren murmured, idly petting Koi, who let out a small, defiant chirp, “It also means focusing one’s will into shaping their aura, manifesting it in the physical world.”

…

Professor Elm’s Lab, New Bark Town, November 29th, 1997

“Are you sure we should be here? It… doesn’t look like anyone’s here.”

Red had to agree with Salvare, given that the windows were dark, and the sun had only just risen over the horizon. There hadn’t been anyone walking around in town, given that its residents must have only just woken up, if at all, and that wasn’t even to mention that it was the weekend.

Sure, Professor Oak had never been one to stop his work for something as erroneous as a weekend, but Elm didn’t strike Red as the type to do the same, in his memory.

Herren paused with his keys - which either showed how much Elm trusted the man, or how much he was a fool - and shot a smirk at Salvare, “Trust me. The others may be gone, but the old man practically lives here more than his own house.”

Salvare seemingly tried to smile in response, but couldn’t, staring up at the building with something akin to trepidation, “...If you’re sure.”

Red frowned - Salvare seemed more hesitant than the situation would normally warrant - but didn’t take it upon himself to confront the kid about it.

Herren didn’t have the same compunction.

“Listen kid, it’s almost been three years,” Herren grunted, opening the newly unlocked door with a creak, “I’m sure the old man’s forgotten it by now.”

Red narrowed his eyes, “Forgotten what?”

Salvare shot Red a startled glance, looking almost pleading as Herren grunted, “It’s the kid’s business, Red. If you want t’know, ask him.”

Herren entered the laboratory, leaving Red and Salvare to walk several paces behind him. Thinning his lips, Red decided to test the tentative trust he had with Salvare, and tilted his head to ask, “What happened three years ago?”

Salvare grimaced, and for several moments, Red believed that he wouldn’t answer. However, Salvare sighed, and whispered out, “I… Things weren’t so good three years back, yeah?” Salvare began, before speaking in a rush, “I may or may not have stolen a pokémon here, my… first pokémon.”

Red’s eyes widened - he hadn’t expected that - though he didn’t burst out, or even so much as gasped. After all, as he thought more on it, it made sense. The Tododile line used as one of the Johto Starter pokémon, and Salvare didn’t have any official sponsorship. Not to mention, the odds of finding and catching a wild Tododile from its parents were slim, especially without any pokémon of his own…

Salvare was watching Red for his reaction, and seemed relieved at Red’s lack of shock - and the subsequent scorn - “...Thanks, Red,” Salvare sighed as he followed Herren up a flight of stairs, “For… not judging me for that.”

Red only nodded, keeping silent as they followed Herren to the top floor, still cast in an ominous darkness. Though Herren no longer inspired quite so much suspicion from Red - especially after the start of their aura training under him - it didn’t stop him from palming the pokéballs on his belt.

The sounds of Chariot’s laughter still echoed in his mind.

Herren opened the door leading to the top-floor study, which revealed rows of books and files, stacked neatly in some places and piled haphazardly in others. As the three turned a corner, they found a lone desk in the corner of the room, illuminated with a single lamp casting a warm light on a man, slumped over a pile of notes with drool running down his chin.

It seemed as though the man had fallen asleep in the middle of research.

As they got closer, Red recognised the man past the dim light and the stubble. Though it had been years since Red last saw the man, Professor Elm looked remarkably good for his age, given that he was only a few years younger than Oak himself. His light brown hair was only just now receiving lines of grey, making the man almost appear younger than Herren was.

Red briefly wondered how they were going to wake him, given the dubious legality of them even being here. He turned to share a questioning glance with Salvare, only to quickly turn back as Herren surged forward, shaking the poor man with a yell, “ WAKE UP, HENRY, WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!”

“AHHH!” Elm shrieked, forcing Red and Salvare to cover their ears. Red watched incredulously as Elm shot out an arm, punching Herren’s grinning face to the side, “Wha-?” His face twisted into a scowl, “Don’t do that, you fffffffffricking idiot!”

“Don’t care. Worth it,” Herren grunted, cradling his jaw, before noting with an amused voice, “Your right hook has gotten better.”

“Well,” Elm harumphed, still seeming flustered as he began to cautiously sit back down, continuing in a dry tone, “I’m glad I’ve exceeded your expectations.”

Herren snorted before stepping to the side, revealing Red and Salvare - who hid behind Red - “We have some visitors.”

Elm blinked, picking up his glasses from the table as he scrutinised Red, “...I didn’t know you were bringing visitors, Herren.”

“I didn’t know ‘till a week ago,” Herren rebutted with a dry humour, leaning against Elm’s desk, “Still, I thought you wouldn’t mind, considering you were asking of them last I heard.”

“Really?” Elm asked, standing up to turn on a light switch, allowing him to see them all more clearly. He turned and stared at Red for several moments, before widening his eyes in recognition, “Satoshi?” He turned to Herren with raised eyebrows, “I didn’t know you were going after him?”

Red narrowed his eyes - going after him? - as Herren shrugged, “I wasn’t. I just happened to run across them on my travels.”

“And you brought them here?” Elm asked with a small shake of his head, “Talk about luck, I’m envious,” He stopped suddenly, before turning to Red and Salvare with wide-eyes, “I’m sorry, I’ve been very rude!” He stepped forward and extended a hand with a slightly manic smile, “I’m Professor Elm, but you can just call me Henry.”

Red took Elm’s - Henry’s - hand first, given that Salvare still hid behind him, “It’s… good to meet you, Henry,” Red narrowed his eyes slightly, “Name’s Red Satoshi, though it seemed like you already knew that?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Elm replied quickly, shaking Red’s hand erratically. He turned to peer his head over at Salvare before gasping, turning back to Red, “Oh, and I knew your name from your reputation ! I expect everyone in Johto will know your name by month’s end.”

Red blinked, his frown deepening as he opened his mouth to ask exactly what he meant by that , only to find Henry’s focus on Salvare, “And hello to you!”

As Salvare began to stutter a reply, Herren stepped beside Red, whispering, “I hope you can excuse Henry’s… excitability. I’ll keep it from getting too overwhelming.”

Red only nodded - he did recall Elm being a touch more ditzy than Professor Oak - only to turn sharply towards the other two as Henry gasped, pointing an accusing finger at Salvare, “I remember you! You’re a damn thief!”

Red moved to stand between Elm and Salvare - who was looking distinctly pale - as Herren placed a hand on the Professor’s shoulder, “And he had an understandable reason to do it, if you’re willing to listen.”

A few seconds passed as Elm fumed, his angry scowl looking distinctly different to his previously amiable grin. After a while, Elm closed his eyes, breathing out of his nose as he softly spat, “ Talk. ”

“I… It was…” Salvare stumbled over his words, and Red unclipped Frogadier’s pokéball in preparation for a confrontation. Herren caught the motion, though his face didn’t change, instead staring determinedly towards Salvare, who gulped and spoke slowly, and clearly, “I was being pursued by Team Rocket, and I didn’t have any pokémon to defend myself. I was hiding here and…” Salvare exhaled tensely, “I found a pokémon.”

“You mean you stole a pokémon,” Elm hissed, and Herren’s grip tightened. After a few seconds, Elm reached up and plucked Herren’s hand off his shoulder, “...I suppose I can forgive that…” He eyed Salvare, anger quickly being overshadowed by sympathy, “I’m not much a fan of Team Rocket myself, given their raid on the lab two years back.”

Salvare winced, looking vaguely guilty, “I’m sorry about that…”

Elm huffed, rubbing the crust lingering in his eyes, “Don’t apologise. It’s not like you were a member…” He paused, and turned back to Salvare with the remnants of a glare, “Unless you were…?”

Salvare winced, “It’s complicated.”

Red kept his eyebrows from rising, though it wasn’t easy. Salvare had a past with Team Rocket… He was learning far more about Salvare today than he expected, though he couldn’t say if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

For his own part, Elm only looked unimpressed, “Whatever…” He sighed, once more rubbing his tired eyes, “I’ll forget about this, on one condition…” He removed the hand from his eyes, looking back towards Salvare with a small frown, “Bring him out.”

Salvare blinked, experiencing a small amount of whiplash at the command, “What?”

“The Totodile, bring him out,” Elm repeated, before knitting his eyebrows together, “At least, I’m pretty certain he’s male. If I’m wrong, bring her out.”

“It’s - It’s a he - You know what?” Salvare shook his head in lingering confusion, taking out Feraligatr’s pokéball, “Come on out.”

Where Elm’s eyes were hardened at the memory of Salvare’s thievery, his eyes shined as he gawked at the fully-evolved Starter now before him, “Oh goodness, I didn’t expect him to be fully evolved .”

Herren gave a self-satisfied smirk at Elm’s newfound joy, giving the man a hard nudge, “See? Stolen or not, he’s done better by his pokémon than most of your official trainers.”

“Oh, do shut up,” Henry huffed, shoving Herren away to step closer to inspect Feraligatr, who stood loyally at Salvare’s side, “I just didn’t expect him to have grown to this point. Totodiles do tend to be rather volatile emotionally,” Elm shifted his gaze to scrutinise Salvare, “You must have a rather strong bond for him to guard you so zealously.”

Salvare gave a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his red hair, “We - uh - we do.”

Elm nodded absently, still inspecting Feraligatr, before snapping his fingers, “I’m forgetting something,” He turned back to Herren, who was idly fiddling with a toothpick, “Herren, what am I forgetting?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Herren muttered drily, turning the pick clockwise around his mouth, “A sponsorship, perhaps?”

“Oh, yes!” Elm turned back to Red and Salvare with a grin, “I did want to extend that offer,” He turned around, walking down an aisle of bookshelves to the other side of the room, “there aren’t any of the usual candidates this year, after all.”

“What about those two kids?” Herren asked as he and the other two followed, “What were their names… James? Marine?”

“Oh, Jimmy and Marina started off their journeys a year ago,” Henry replied with a negligent wave of the hand, “They’re off in Kanto right now, though their friend, Vincent, is participating in the Silver Conference this year.”

Elm reached a personal computer at the edge of the room, and began to root around a series of cabinets surrounding it, “Now let’s see…” Herren made eye contact with Red, only to roll his eyes, “Ah, no,” Elm shoved a rust-coloured device into another cabinet, “That’s an old model…” After a few more minutes, Elm produced two relatively pristine devices, though there was some dust on them, “Here we are: two ‘95 models, still in good condition.”

Henry placed the two pokédexes on a nearby table, allowing Red to see them in more detail. They looked almost identical to the Johto pokédex Red had used nearly a full decade ago, if a bit more simple. Seeing Henry’s encouraging nod, Red picked up his pokédex, pocketing it as Salvare picked up the spare.

“Now,” Henry lightly clapped his hands as the two looked to him, “Since it seems like you’re accepting my offer, allow me to share the terms of the sponsorship,” Henry opened another cabinet, flicking through some papers before pulling out two contracts, “Now… As lab-sponsored trainers, you will both be given one pokédex, five pokéballs, a flat check of 30,000 pokedollars, and a monthly stipend of 10,000 pokedollars.”

Henry handed over the contracts to Red and Salvare, “There are ways you can increase your stipend, which will be shown on the contract. You should be able to access it in your pokédex once they go through the League database,” Henry absently booted up a scanner connected to his computer as he continued, “Of course, as lab-sponsored trainers, you are expected to contribute your own efforts to our growth, whether it be through field research or representation at the annual conferences,” Elm paused, side-eyeing Red as he laid down the signed contract, “Though I suppose you already meet that requirement.”

Red nodded absently as he watched Salvare begin to sign his own name. For his own part, Red had seen that Elm’s words were almost exactly verbatim to the contract, so he saw no issue with signing it.

Regional Professors do tend to be on the uppermost tier of sponsors, at least in terms of recognition.

One of Red’s goals was to ingratiate himself into the League, after all, given how much control - or eyes - Team Source seemed to have over it. Despite the apparent notoriety he was gaining, based on Herren and Henry’s remarks, he would have to rise in a more official capacity for anyone in the League to actually listen to him.

This sponsorship should help expedite the process.

Perhaps Karen’s connections could help speed it up?

Red set the thought aside as Salvare put down his pen - he bore surprisingly cultured handwriting - and handed Henry his contract. Red did the same, asking Elm, “How long will this take to process?”

“Oh, no more than a few days, I imagine,” Henry muttered offhand as he fed the contracts to the scanner, “You will be cutting it awfully close to the beginning of the Silver Conference, though.”

“That’s fine,” Red replied absently, noting Herren walking away from them, “Anything else we need to do?”

“Nothing I can think of,” Henry replied with a wave of his hand before turning around to glower at Herren as he picked up an object from Elm’s desk, “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’d like to ask that same question myself,” Herren muttered as they got closer, holding a small, green rock against the rising sunlight from the window, “Continuing on that Meganium research, again?”

“ No ,” Elm huffed, grabbing the green stone from Herren’s hands - and the dull glow of it stirred something at the edges of Red’s conscious - “And don’t go grabbing whatever you see, Herren.”

Elm placed the green rock onto the table, still glowering at Herren. Yet, Red didn’t pay attention to their budding argument, instead keeping his eyes on the rock.

It looked like a leaf stone.

Red’s eyes began to glow as he stepped closer, one of his pokéballs - pristine, new - began to shake. In his - their - focus, he didn’t notice Salvare’s alarmed look, particularly towards the rattling pokéball on Red’s belt.

Why…?

Red blinked as a flash of light obscured his vision - and the haze of shared minds left him - and dully heard a gasp to his side as a Vaporeon with dark splotches of fur landed on the table, eyes locked onto the leaf stone.

Red’s eyes widened as he registered what just happened - Stupid, Red! Stupid! - and shifted to protect Vee’s form from Herren and Elm, eyes glowing brighter as he unclipped Frogadier’s pokéball.

They were all wake now, though. Ready at a moment’s notice to fight, to protect the child.

Red idly noted Salvare’s presence behind him - and a small, warm part of him was grateful for the silent support - as Red hissed, “ Neither of you saw anything. ”

Unfortunately, his words were undercut by the sounds of mewls and grunts behind him - and the quiet sounds of ruffling fur and shifting muscles - which made Elm’s eyes become as wide as saucers, “Well, I’m most certainly seeing something! ”

Herren placed a hand on Elm’s shoulder, quieting him as Red snarled, “ You will forget you ever saw anything. ”

Unbidden, a ripple of aura pulsed from him, and it only took a few moments for Red to widen his eyes, realising what it was.

Amnesia. A bastardised, desperate version of it.

Red locked eyes with Herren, who blinked a few times before sharpening his eyes onto Red’s, looking more vaguely disappointed than tense, as Red was. On the other hand, Elm’s eyes glazed over, his face beginning to go a touch slack, even as he stared at Vee’s form.

Which shifted once more into a mix of Jolteon and Flareon.

Elm’s eyes cleared, and he shook his head with an increasingly manic grin, “But I- I can’t forget about this,” He struggled against Herren’s grip on his shoulder, “An- An Eevee that can switch between forms! On its own! It’s remarkable!” He turned his eyes onto Red’s, face stretched in an astonished smile, “How did you achieve this?”

“ Henry, ” Herren chided firmly, gazing on Red’s increasingly violent look, “Tone it down, and let him speak.”

“But why? ” Henry whined , sounding like a petulant child as he turned to Herren - though he still kept Vee in his line of sight - “This is every professor’s dream , to find a specimen like this!” He gasped, almost surging towards the table had Herren’s hand not been on his shoulder, “Maybe it can evolve into Leafeon! Using that leaf stone!”

“ Henry, remember Cipher, ” Herren groused out, looking truly agitated for the first time this morning. To Red’s - and Salvare’s - silent relief, Elm stilled at the words, “Something like this could very easily be another case of the rescued Shadows.”

Elm’s breath hitched, and his eyes, which were previously shining in slight mania, were now colder, “ Oh. Oh, yes, I suppose it might.”

Though Elm took a step back, his eyes remained on Vee, who Red could still hear mewling. Shifting his eyes to Salvare, who nodded firmly, Red allowed himself to turn around, only to see Vee desperately padding the leaf stone, her fur shifting across various forms as she mewled in distress.

Elm mentioned her evolving into Leafeon, using a leaf stone…

Red stepped over to Vee, bringing up a hand to softly pet her head, “It’s… going to be okay, Vee,” he brought his other hand to softly move Vee’s paw away from the leaf stone, “Vee, look at me.”

Vee slowly turned her head, gazing imploringly at Red with crimson and silver eyes - Psychic and Dark . Red smiled softly and wrapped his hands around her lithe frame, lifting her into his arms, “We can worry about Leafeon later, okay Vee?” He waited for the baby to nod, which she eventually did, if begrudgingly, “No-one is pushing you to evolve anytime soon, Vee. You’re safe here.”

Forgive Red if he glared a bit at Elm as he said that. Even if Vee was extraordinary, she was under his protection.

And Elm scared her; even though their bond had only just reopened, Red could feel it.

Still… Elm meant no harm, but his excitability did scare Vee.

She was trembling lightly in Red’s arms.

Red tilted his head up to glare at Elm - and Herren for that matter - and growled out as calmly as he could, “Vee won’t be subjected as a lab rat again .”

Herren nodded over Henry’s face, looking as if he confirmed something in his mind. For his own part, Elm did look truly remorseful, “...Yes, I apologise for that. I was… a touch overbearing ,” He still looked interested, though, enough to ask, “If it’s not too forward… Who did you rescue her from?”

Red kept his glare on Elm, “I can’t say.”

“But,” Elm paused, and visibly kept his voice level in an effort to avoid furthering Red’s ire, “We could notify the League, and they could-”

“-Do nothing,” Red interrupted, far more calm than he felt, “But what you can do is keep quiet. ”

Elm remained quiet for several moments. At one point, Herren seemed fit to speak, though he stopped when Elm raised a hand, casting a shrewd eye to Red and Salvare, “I suppose you’ll run off into the wild yonder if I don’t?”

Red didn’t reply, though the dull glow of his eyes were answer enough. He really, really wouldn’t prefer having to do so, but Vee was still too vulnerable to recapture - or death. He’d much prefer not having to sabotage his inroads towards the League, but he’d find a way around it if push came to shove.

To his side, Salvare stood with Red, silently casting his lot with the man.

Once again, Salvare proved Red undeserving of his loyalty.

Red’s eyes flashed as Elm crossed his arms with a sigh, “... Fine. I’ll keep your secret, Red Satoshi,” He raised an eyebrow, somehow looking more curious than demeaning, “Though I doubt you’ll be able to hide her much longer from the public eye, especially given your pursuits.”

“I’ll hide her as long as I need to,” Red muttered agitatedly, though his eyes began to lose its glow. He shifted his eyes to Herren, “And you?”

Herren replaced his toothpick in apparent boredom, “Who would I tell?”

“ Your word, ” Red growled out, not in the mood for Herren’s usual sarcasm.

In response, Herren rolled his eyes, though he straightened, casting his hand in the mimicry of a priest, “I promise, under the Grand Light of the Creator, that I will not tell a soul for as long as you deem the secret hidden,” Herren brought his hand down with a flourish, “Does that satisfy, my lord?”

Red’s eye twitched, though he didn’t deign it with a response. It was probably the best he was going to get from the man. He turned down to Vee in his arms, smiling softly as she rubbed her tiny head against his chest with closed eyes, “Do you want to go back in the ball?”

Vee opened a single eye to gaze imperiously at Red before closing it once more with a yawn - her fur shifted to a deep shade of purple as she did this.

‘No. Red is a warm colour. Warm is good.’

Red’s smile deepened, though it quickly dropped as Elm sighed to himself, “And to think I envied Sam for all the secrets he holds. It’s going to be maddening having this in the back of my mind at the next Professor’s Roundtable.”

“Hey,” Herren grinned, nudging Henry with his elbow, “At least this time you’ll be the one who knows something Oak doesn’t.”

Henry laughed softly to himself, tiredly sitting back at his desk, “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” He looked back up to the others with a carefully neutral face, “That man does love his secrets, but he’s hardly subtle ,” He turned to Red, his eyes growing solemn as he vowed, “Your secret is safe with us, Red.”

Red still wasn’t entirely convinced that Elm wouldn’t slip up and reveal something he shouldn’t, but all things considered, this was the best he was going to get. All the same, Red nodded his head with a severe look to Elm, “Make sure that it is.”

He turned around, leaving Elm to begin whispering frantically to Herren, and muttered to Salvare, who stepped in synch with him, “C’mon, let’s train for a while,” Red rolled his neck, popping a knot that was pressing against it, “I need to destress after that debacle.”

Salvare huffed, his movements finally losing the tension they’ve held for the last several minutes, “Honestly, Red. We both need it.”

…

Outskirts of New Bark Town

“Alright, let’s try this one more time,” Red sighed tiredly, standing back up from a crouch, “ Volt Switch, Pichu.”

Red ignored Pichu’s disgruntled growl, instead watching as the small mouse charged at a lone tree, impacting it with a crackle of white lightning, before rebounding into a roll by Red’s side.

On his belt, Pichu’s pokéball tried, and failed, to open against its latch, while one to its side did, though nothing came out.

Red nodded, satisfied as Pichu threw a dirty side-eye to Red, “It seems like you’ve got the basics down. Now we just need to keep the switch consistent, and maybe a bit more powerful…”

Pichu clicked his little teeth in what Red understood to be dissatisfaction. It didn’t take a genius to understand the source of Pichu’s frustration. It had been plaguing him - plaguing them all - for months.

Pichu felt weak.

Red knew better than to offer any shallow condolences. Pichu knew better than that, and, frankly, deserved better. Though all three of Red’s surviving pokémon from the Storm had lost a significant amount of their strength, none had lost more than Pichu, and he was aware of it.

It was part of the reason why Red kept Pichu’s change in training for last. Pichu had become, and still remained, Red’s most prideful pokémon, even more so than Charmander.

Whereas Charmander’s pride had been tempered by years at Charicific Valley, along with relying on others over the course of the Storm, Pichu’s pride had only grown as the Storm went on.

Pikachu had always been amongst the strongest of Red’s pokémon, even after shattering his reserves due to Zekrom’s wrath. However, Pikachu’s ability seemed to skyrocket during the storm, reaching such heights that he could take down legendaries.

Red’s pokémon had all experienced an increase in raw power from the passive waves of the Storm, but Pikachu’s had been the most pronounced.

He had earned the title of god-killer after slaying that Shadow Lugia with a strike of lightning from the god’s own storm.

Thus, Pichu’s devolution hit the hardest for the small creature, as he went from the strongest amongst them to the weakest, by a considerable margin.

The fact of the matter was that Pichu were amongst the most frail pokémon in the world. They held incredible electric reserves, just like the rest of their evolution line, but their body simply couldn’t handle even a fraction of it being released.

They had hoped that it could be circumvented, somehow negated either by technique or pure unadulterated grit. However, Red had come to realise that, even with Pichu’s advances in redirecting and minimising the damage taken from his own attacks, they had hit a hard stop in terms of growth.

Red had been worried that Pichu hadn’t, and would remain stubborn in fighting against it… Even if he might push himself past the point of no return.

Thankfully, Pichu seemed to understand as well, or at the very least trusted Red enough to listen. Still, even with the changes in Pichu’s training, Red could still see that the small rodent desired his old strength, his old assurance in his ability to protect himself and them.

It wasn’t anything exclusive to Pichu. Both Charmander and Frogadier suffered the same demons, not to mention Red…

Where Pichu differed was in how he handled it…

Seeing the errant sparks crackling along Pichu’s cheeks, Red pointed down the hill, far enough to avoid harming Vee, “ Discharge over there. Use as much time as you need.”

Pichu’s tail - a tiny, mangled thing - twitched, and Pichu nodded once before zooming away, crackles of electricity increasing in intensity as the rodent ran off to let out his rage.

The hairs on Red’s arms began to rise with Pichu’s static, which Red took as his cue to turn to turn to Vee, who was laying beside Red with a mix of features from Jolteon and Sylveon, staring over at the impromptu light show that Pichu caused.

Red lowered himself until his head was roughly equal with Vee’s - which was rather difficult, given how small she was - and showed her his arm, “Do you feel the static?”

Vee chirped, and a vague sensation of intrigue filtered into Red’s mind, “See if you can reach it, and pull it in.”

Vee eyed Red in mild confusion, but did as he asked, closing her eyes as she tried to connect with the static in the air.

After a few moments, Red felt a shift along the hairs on his arms, and they began to point towards Vee as the electrical charge in the air slowly filtered towards her.

Yet, as the ions in the air congregated around the small fusion, rather than building in intensity, their electrical charges neutralised as Vee absorbed them. After a few moments, the static in the air had decreased, and Red felt a smile grow as Vee opened her eyes, peering curiously at him.

Her features had solidified almost entirely to that of a Jolteon, though her fur retained its pinkish hue.

Red pet her head softly as he answered her unasked question, “I wanted to try a theory of mine. Since Flareon, Vaporeon, and Jolteon have various abilities that allow them to absorb their element, I wanted to see if that could help you further connect to your different forms.”

Vee blinked, only to sneeze out a few sparks, startling her in the process. Red’s smile softened as he felt the sparks die against his skin - perks of Electric aura - and murmured, “It’s alright, little one. You’ll learn control eventually.”

Red and Vee sat together for several minutes until the localised storm surrounding Pichu died off, revealing the exhausted rat. As Pichu clamoured up onto Red’s shoulder, a low bark turned his attention to his side, only to see Charmander and Frogadier walking towards them, both bearing cuts and bruises along their arms and torso.

Red stood up, keeping Pichu balanced on his shoulder, and recalled Vee for her to rest. He surveyed the other two’s injuries before turning to Frogadier, asking, “How is his training going?”

Frogadier crouched down and began writing simple characters into the ground using small jets of water. Red crouched as he waited for Frogadier to finish the code, made up of various numbers and patterns of circles to determine Charmander’s current skills in close-quarters combat, and where he needed to improve.

Having been the one to originally devise the code with Greninja and Lucario over a year ago, Red understood it instantly, “Hmm… We can see about Pichu helping him with speed, and I can help with teaching specific moves,” He gazed up to Frogadier, “I presume you’ll want to continue training him in technique?”

Frogadier nodded, eliciting a surly huff of smoke from Charmander.

Red snorted, eyeing Charmander’s grumpy form with mirth, “Seems like he’s looking forward it,” He began to stand, only to be stopped by Frogadier gripping his arms, “What is it?”

Frogadier pointed behind him, warbling keenly to Red. He rose an eyebrow, “You discovered something?” At Frogadier and Charmander’s nods, Red rose, “Was it dangerous?”

Frogadier hesitated before shaking his head. Red hummed in thought as they began to walk further away from town, towards whatever the two of them had found.

After a few minutes, Red squinted as two small shapes revealed themselves by a large tree at the edge of the forest. As they got closer, he recognised what they were, and he whispered lightly to his pokémon, “ Tread lightly, for this is hallowed ground. ”

They were graves.

Red and his pokémon hushed as they stepped closer, keeping a solemn silence as they entered the burial grounds. They understood, after all, the sanctity of such land, having buried scores of friends and loved ones themselves.

A stray thought filtered into Red’s mind.

Serena’s gravesite wasn’t that far away from Silver Town…

They shuffled next to the gnarled tree overlooking the gravestones, close enough to see their inscriptions, though the one on the left was wreathed in purple flowers - hyacinths - and was much nicer kept, making it easier to read.

K. K. Crystal

1957 - 1977

‘She loved all, and was loved by all’

Red bowed his head in honour. Though he didn’t know who she was - nor recognised the name - he still felt the need to give respect to the dead.

His eyes slid over to the grave on the right, which had darkened and began to crumble. It obviously didn’t receive the same care as the other grave, though there was a single, old white poppy laid against it. Written into the stone was a single word.

GOLD

Red bowed his head once more before turning back to see Frogadier standing by the large tree, parting a set of tangled vines away to reveal a hidden knothole.

Red turned back for a moment at the graves before walking silently towards Frogadier, who was peering curiously into the knothole. Red squinted his eyes as he looked into it, finding several small items squeezed into the small space.

Letting morbid curiosity get the better of him, Red reached in to inspect the items.

The first thing he pulled out was a folded old hat, which held a slight musty smell as faded yellow threads tore away from its greying base. He set the hat aside as he reached in for the next item.

He pulled out a small, water-rotted journal. Anything that was once written in its pages were ruined long ago, which made Red wonder why someone would place it into the knothole in the first place.

The next item within the knothole was a feather that immediately made Red step back.

It was a feather from Ho-Oh.

Sure, it was stiff, and only just beginning to decompose, but Red would recognise its radiance anywhere…

How the hell did it end up here?

Pocketing the feather, Red quickly took out the next item, which was rusted metal machine that looked vaguely like a shoulder pad connected by a wire to a mechanical hand. Aside from the rust spreading throughout the machine, dents and scorch marks dotted its frame, only creating more questions in Red’s mind.

Shaking his head, Red placed the machine into his bag - which still held various gadgets from the Storm - and reached back into the knothole to pull out the final item.

It was a small container, akin to one that he would’ve found in Professor Oak’s lab. Red narrowed his eyes as he turned the container around in confusion, only to widen his eyes as he found a label.

‘Stem Cells extracted from Mew fossil, Guyana [Count: 3]’

Red’s breath left his body, and he quickly stuffed the container into his bag.

What in the fresh hell was that doing here?

Red didn’t know much about the research surround Mew, aside from it leading to Mewtwo’s birth - which he vaguely recalled would be happening soon, if it hadn’t already passed . What he did know was that something like this was priceless.

He wasn’t so interested in selling it - Arceus forbid - but he certainly wanted to know why and how it ended up here in all places.

In all of Red’s spiralling thoughts, he almost didn’t hear the cough behind him, causing him to whirl around, only to find Herren standing by the graves with the sun at his back, face set colder than Red had ever seen before, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Red’s fist involuntarily tightened, though he responded neutrally, “Herren.”

Herren’s eyes stayed on Red’s, not looking violent by any means, but not looking nearly as jovial as earlier, “I take it you found something that interested you?”

Did Herren know what was there? Red breathed slowly, “...Yes.”

Herren nodded thoughtfully, his eyes drifting away from Red and towards the graves between them, “...Alright,” He looked back up, and his previously turbulent eyes were once more set in a neutral gaze, “I can accept you taking what you found, on a practical level. But,” He sighed, looking remarkably more tired than Red had ever seen him, “Do treat what you found with respect, please.”

Red nodded slowly, watching as Herren’s gaze once more fell upon the gravestones, “...Did you know them?”

Herren stayed silent for a moment, absently petting Koi at his side, who was gazing at Red mournfully, “...Yeah… I knew them.”

Red stood a few paces behind Herren, who had turned his back on Red to kneel before the graves, “What were they like?”

Herren tilted his head in Red’s direction, though kept his eyes on the graves, “...Crystal, she was…” Herren paused, and Koi trilled a soothing tone, “She was good… Too good for the war, for any of us,” Herren stood, turning his head back to look at Red - his eyes had darkened, yet they shined - “There wasn’t a soul in Johto that didn’t know her… She was our Heart .”

Red nodded solemnly, understanding, to some degree, what the man meant. Faces from his past life flashed across Red’s mind. His eyes landed onto the other grave, “...And Gold?”

Herren breathed out through his nose, and Koi chirped softly, “Gold was…” He paused, as if searching for the right descriptors, “Naive. Arrogant. Oh, he was strong, no doubt,” Herren sighed, “But he didn’t know how to temper it… It ruined him, in the end.”

Red kept silent as Herren mourned. He hadn’t thought much of it at first, but given the timeline of the Great War, Crystal and Gold must have passed away near the end of it.

Upon seeing Herren rise from his bow, Red murmured, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

For the first time on the hill, Herren cracked a small, almost soft smile, “Don’t be. Crystal would’ve liked you,” He paused with a small grimace, “Gold would’ve… Well, he’d consider you a good rival, at the least.”

Red nodded as he stepped alongside Herren as they descended the hill, “I would’ve liked to meet him.”

Herren snorted, “Honestly, kid,” He cast a final look at a graves behind him, “You’re just about the only one who would say that, and mean it.”

…

Edge of New Bark Town, December 1st, 1997

Red was standing a touch impatiently as Elm accosted Herren one final time before their departure.

Registration for the Silver Conference ended on December 6th, and Red was already cutting it far too close for his liking, given that the hike to Silver Town was five days at a rapid pace.

Salvare was also visibly anxious, though Red thought the kid was hiding it well. Salvare was still uncomfortable whenever they spoke to Elm, despite the latter’s assurance that he bore no more ill will towards him.

Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer until Elm exclaimed, “Well, I’ve kept you all long enough! I just have one thing to give you before you head off!”

Red watched as Elm took out two data cards, stepping towards him and Salvare, “I have something I want to add to your pokédexes before you go. It’s nothing major, just an extra bit of hardware I’ve been working on.”

Red narrowed his eyes as he and Salvare handed their pokédexes to the professor, “What does it do?”

“Oh, nothing yet,” Elm replied absently, plugging the chips into the devices, “They’re mainly a primer for more advanced features that I intend to introduce to future models.”

Red’s eyes remained narrowed as he pocketed his pokédex, though he could find no real fault with the man’s words. The pokédexes were, ultimately, lab property.

Before either of them could say anything more, though, Herren stepped between them with a grunt, “Alright, Henry, that’s enough. We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” Elm stepped back with an abashed chuckle, waving slightly as they began to quickly walk to the trail, “Good luck at the conference!”

Herren hollered back a response, though Red and Salvare kept silent. The kid had barely spoken outside of his training with Red, though it didn’t seem as though it was from any issue with his mentor.

Red wondered about that, but what kept the majority of his thoughts were the items he had found in the knothole.

Who had placed those items there, and why?

Red’s mind involuntarily brought up the image of the old rainbow feather within his bag, and that of the feather that had blessed Ash all those years ago.

It’s been over a decade since he first started his journey with Pikachu.

Yet, though Red could recall the highs and lows of his journey, the faces and laughs of his friends, the cries and cheers of all of his pokémon, he could barely picture himself at that age.

He could barely picture himself as Ash Ketchum.

Red had only changed his name a few months ago… but the change in his spirit was long before that.

Ash was a cheerful, kind, trusting, gullible, hopeful, compassionate kid.

Red… was not.

Once more, the thought that had first settled in his mind back at Ecruteak - and stayed - reared its head.

He shouldn’t exist.

Yet he was here… Here for the long haul.

He had laid down his life once before to end the Storm, and he was willing to do so again to keep it from happening again.

Yet, was there anything beyond that? Was that the one thing he brought in this world to do?

His ‘raison d’etre’, as Serena would have called it.

Was that his one, true purpose?

To become strong enough - good enough - to stop the Storm before it started?

Red’s thoughts turned to Gold, and what Herren said about the passed individual.

‘He was strong, no doubt, but he didn’t know how to temper it…’

‘It ruined him, in the end.’

…

Archived Audio Recording, April 21st, 1982

“You’ve been sitting here for quite some time, Aurous.”

The man turns his head at his given name, but says nothing.

The woman - aged in body and youthful in soul - sits next to the man.

A child - just over a year old - wriggles out of her grasp.

“Aye! Eta!”

The man smiles, and allows the small girl to begin climbing onto him.

The woman huffs a sigh.

“You’re too young to be so wary, my friend.”

The man hums, idly batting away the child’s foot from his mouth.

“Perhaps…”

“It isn’t like we’re given any choice, though.”

The woman nods with a thoughtful glimmer in her crimson eyes.

“And that’s the heart of the matter, isn’t it?”

The man does not respond.

His silence is answer enough.

“It won’t serve to lose hope, Aurous.”

“It’s the one thing that only you can take away.”

“It’s not…”

The man heaves in a sigh.

“It’s not hope that I lack…”

“It’s…”

“Purpose?”

The man huffs a bitter laugh.

“Of course…”

They sit in silence.

The child, now nestled within the man’s gentle hands, babbles out a new word.

“Purpa?”

The man snorts, ruffling the little girl’s hair.

He receives a squawk in protest, though he pays no mind to it.

Eventually, the woman speaks once more in a vaguely nostalgic tone.

“You know, it’s almost poetic…”

The woman trails off.

“...What’s poetic?”

The woman turns to him, casting a distinctly melancholic glance to the girl nestled in his arms.

“I was in her place once… Naught but a child born in time to witness our destruction.”

The man remains silent, in respect for the fallen.

“I was only four years old, barely more than a hatchling…”

“I suppose it’s fitting that it is the earliest memory I can recall.”

The man frowns, lightly rocking the child in his arms to sleep.

“How so?”

The woman looked back to him, though her eyes were faraway.

He couldn’t fault her too much for that.

His eyes were much the same in recent times.

“I was meditating upon this rock.”

The woman huffed.

“Not a fun activity for a four year old; I often wonder what the Elders were thinking.”

She shook her head.

“Then, one moment I was alone, and the next, there was a young woman sitting next to me.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“I’m failing to see the poeticism.”

The old woman reached out to slap him.

Hard enough to make it felt.

Soft enough to keep the child from waking.

“I was getting to that.”

“Where was I? Oh, yes.”

“She must not have been much older - if at all - than you were at your calling.”

The woman’s lips turned up into a sad smile.

“She had the kindest face… Eyes a soft pink, with a touch of emerald…”

“Yet, she was wary…”

“...”

“Why was that?”

The old woman remained silent for a few moments, idly watching the child in the man’s arms before asking.

“How much do you know of the 3rd Draconid War?”

The man stiffened, turning away as he narrowed his eyes.

“Not any more than you’ve already told me…”

“Hmm…”

The woman examined a rock in her hand before deciding to toss it over the cliffside.

“The war began a year later.”

“...You were five.”

“I was.”

The two remained in silence for several moments.

The man’s eyes stared across the sea lining the horizon, flashes of ash and fire playing in his mind.

The woman sneaked a glance at the man, and frowned as his eyes remained blank, void.

“I’ve come to wonder…”

The man’s eyes snapped back to hers.

And, for but a moment, the grey of his irises darkened a shade.

“Whether it is worse to be a child, watching a great war from the side…”

“Or to be a teenager, fighting within the frontlines themselves…”

The man’s eye twitched.

It was only due to the child in his arms that he kept his response to a mere growl.

“Don’t give me your pity.”

“Sympathy and pity are two similar, but ultimately different, things.”

“You would do well to recognise and accept the former.”

The man stews in deep-rooted anguish.

His suffering is silent, but no less great.

Still, both due to lingering respect for his elder, and care for the child he held, the man locked away his rage.

“...How old were you when the war ended?”

“Nine… Or perhaps I was ten.”

“It is… difficult to say exactly when the war ended.”

The man bowed his head, but offered no words of condolence.

The woman accepted this and moved on.

She knew he was locking his emotions, though he felt them strongly still.

The man, perhaps understanding that the woman had more to say yet, asked.

“What became of the woman?”

“She was banished.”

The man jolted, thankfully only causing the child in his arms to grumble.

“Stripped of her titles and name.”

“She became Taboo…”

The man, beginning to understand whom she was referring to, asked.

“Why?”

The woman raised an eyebrow, though her smile was bitter.

“She destroyed us.”

The woman said no more, though her lips remained parted in a thoughtful grimace.

Eventually, the man asked, in a small amount of lingering frustration.

“Why did you tell me this?”

The woman considered.

She considered for quite some time.

Eventually, she looked the man in the eyes, and she saw the woman’s face.

She of Rain and Fire.

“I told you this, because she saved us.”

The man frowned.

He did not understand.

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you just say she destroyed you?”

“Ah.”

The woman smiled, as if the wisdom she held was boundless.

It wasn’t quite so, but it might as well have been.

“But it was in that very destruction that we were saved.”

“I’m lost.”

If nothing else, the man was blunt with his words.

The woman smiled indulgently at him, and decided to be blunt as well.

“We were killing ourselves.”

The man shudders, and the child almost wakes.

Almost…

A phantom sensation of falling skies breezes by the man.

Then it is gone…

“Even long before the war, we were on the path to oblivion.”

“All it took was a single spark - a single soul - for us to begin spiralling to our end.”

The man frowns in thought.

“How did her destroying you end up saving you?”

The woman hums, before murmuring.

“You were born a child of Johto, so you have heard the legends of the Rainbow-Winged Bird, yes?”

The man blinked, before responding.

“Yes…”

“Then consider… the Tale of Rebirthing Flame.”

“There was the Plague, and there was the Fire.”

“One offered decay and a slow, painful death…”

“The other offered death too…”

“But from death, came life.”

The man frowns severely, idly petting the child’s hair.

“...What does it mean?”

The woman smiled softly.

“It means, child, that we were caught in a Plague of our own making.”

“And rather than allowing us to rot away, the woman cast us unto the Fire…”

“And from death, from destruction, came our salvation…”

“...”

“...I see.”

And the man truly did see.

The veil shimmered.

The woman turned away, and in a low voice, spoke.

“You stand at a precipice, Aurous.”

“It is up to you to choose the Plague, or the Fire.”

And the man understood what she truly said beneath her words.

He had been Chosen…

And had tried to take his own life.

He had nearly lost his way…

“Whether in Destruction or Creation…”

The woman turned to him, noticing the whisper.

“What did you say?”

The man turned to the woman, debating within himself to reveal the words.

The words from the voice in his head.

The voice of that which chose him.

The voice of that which enraged him.

“I…”

He hesitated…

But he recalled the old woman’s tale of the destroyer.

And he could connect the dots.

“I… I hear a voice, Elder Aster…”

“It… says things…”

The woman - the Elder of her clan - extended a hand.

“Share them with me, if you wish.”

The man sighed…

And placed his trust in another…

For the first time in five years.

For the last time in many yet.

“Whether in Destruction or Creation…”

“Your Fate will Meet Its End…”

He halted, for but a moment…

But he finished with naught but a whisper.

“Go Forth, My Chariot…”

“Go Forth…”

“And Conquer…”

There came silence to the cliffside.

Suddenly, the child began to cry out.

The man and woman both tried to calm the child, eventually getting her to sleep once more with a lullaby shared with the man by whom he once loved.

The woman smiled as she took the child from the man’s arms.

“Hush now, child…”

Her smile turned sad.

“It seems that little Zinnia couldn’t take it, hearing such Words of Power…”

The man frowned.

With the child gone from his grasp, the shadows clinging to him warped his face into something vaguer…

Perhaps not horrifying yet…

But one day, it would be.

“Words of Power?”

The woman smiled, though it was no longer happy.

It was terribly sad.

It was terribly wary.

It was terribly beautiful.

“Of course… Such a title is rather powerful, is it not?”

Before the man could speak, Elder Aster proclaimed him to be.

“You are Aurous Draconid, He of the Flaming Chariot, Chosen of the Creator…”

The man buckled, and fell upon his knees.

A weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

And a new one had been added around his neck.

“So it shall be, Elder…”

The woman no longer smiled as she gazed upon the man before her.

For her will was no longer hers, but rather the vessel of something GREATER.

“RISE, MY CHARIOT.”

Blood-red eyes bore upon the man.

And the man rose, cowering in fear, in anguish, in resignation.

in defiance.

“RISE, MY CHARIOT.”

“RISE, ANDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD-”

ERROR - System Overload - ERROR - System Overload - ERROR - System Overload - ERROR

[https://i.imgur.com/qXiGqD2.jpeg]

Red, Pikachu, Charizard, and Greninja [In their Source Forms]

[https://i.imgur.com/zKaSzrW.jpeg]

Various Other Character [To Varying Degrees of Quality]