Professor Oak’s Lab, Pallet Town, July 21st, 2004

Ash blinked away the crust from his eyes as he waited, seated next to Gary, who was sleeping against the wall in an uncomfortable position.

Ash hadn’t gotten much sleep over the past few days. He had finally resumed his journey in a new region - Alola - after nearly two months of doing nothing at home. He had stayed awake on the flight out of excitement, only to find out mere hours after landing that he needed to come home. Of course, he wasn’t able to sleep on the flight back either, and upon returning, he found himself too agitated to even try.

Ash looked around in silence, his eyes grim as he surveyed the damage still visible across the lab. Some new evil team had just come out of the woodwork, and the first thing they did was raid Professor Oak’s lab.

Ash had seen a lot in his journey, both good… and bad. It wasn’t so long ago, after all, that he and his friends had nearly been wiped out, along with all of Kalos in Lysandre’s mad schemes.

He still had nightmares of that whole debacle, which was probably a large part of why he hadn’t slept.

But in all his years - all his, admittedly, wild experience - Ash hadn’t seen an attack so brazen. Oh, sure, other evil teams had caused some major damage - Kalos was still under martial law - but he had yet to see a wide-spread attack that was so coordinated, and so harmful.

After all, Professor Oak’s lab was only one of nearly three dozen sites that were ravaged, across various regions, and while Oak, Gary, and all who were here emerged largely unscathed… others weren’t so lucky.

Apparently, even nearly two decades after retiring as Champion, Professor Oak retained enough strength to fight off the attackers. Honestly, before today, Ash hadn’t ever thought much of Professor Oak once being Champion. Sure, Gary used to boast about it all the time, but the old man had always seemed much more laid back about it, so Ash was as well.

Now, though, Ash could see how Oak was once considered the strongest trainer in Indigo. He saw the man now, marching through the ruins of the lab, setting up emergency servers as his old Dragonite and Alakazam moved rubble out of the way.

Ash had offered to help, seeing as how Gary and everyone else present for the attacks were exhausted, but Professor Oak had denied the offer.

Apparently, though the Professor was vague in his words, this was going to be something far larger than they had all initially thought, and they would have to save their strength.

For his own part, Ash thought it was a little hypocritical. Professor Oak looked like he was running on fumes, and it wasn’t as if Ash was a stranger to operating under fatigue and duress.

Professor Oak knew it too, given that Ash had reported most of his legendary encounters to him.

Ash blinked crust out of his eyes again - Arceus, he needed sleep - glaring slightly as Pikachu’s snoring form on his lap.

This wasn’t the longest he’d had to stay awake - that dubious honour went to Kalos - but it was getting close. Ash’s leg began to bounce in nerves, causing Pikachu to grumble in his sleep.

Eventually, just when Ash spied the edges of the sun cresting the horizon, Oak paused in his movement, “It seems Delia has brought some friends,” He turned to Alakazam as Gary began to blink his eyes awake, “Alakazam, lower the psychic barrier to let them in, and keep watch for Lance’s group. He shouldn’t be far behind.”

Gary was rubbing his eyes the same way Ash was - he had fought alongside his grandfather at the attack, so Ash could understand the lethargy - “Lance’s group? I thought the Champion was coming by himself.”

“He was ,” Professor Oak replied, resuming his work on the lab’s computer, which was working once more due to Oak’s efforts, despite the cracks along its frame, “However, he and Mr. Stone decided to pick up certain trainers on their way back here,” Oak paused before looking to Ash, “I do believe that they are some of those you’ve travelled with, Ash.”

“Really?” Ash asked, only to pause as the lab’s door was opened, revealing his mom, along with some familiar faces.

“Brock! Misty!” Ash ran forward to envelop his oldest friends into a group hug, unintentionally causing Pikachu to topple onto the ground.

Brock chuckled, sounding wary but still happy to see him, “It’s good to see you, Ash!” He stepped back to greet Professor Oak with a handshake, “And it’s always an honour to see you, Professor.”

“The honour’s all mine,” Professor Oak replied warmly, though his eyes were still tired, “And, please, just call me Samuel. It isn’t long until you become a professor yourself.”

As Brock and Professor Oak began to converse in whispers, Misty nudged Ash with her elbow, “As much as I’d like to sit down and catch up, are we gonna have to wait long for Lance to arrive?”

“It shouldn’t be too much longer,” Ash replied, sitting back down as Pikachu batted Misty’s leg for attention, “I… didn’t expect to see you two here.”

“Well, it’s not like I was expecting it either,” Misty grumbled, raising Pikachu into her arms, “I was just minding my own business! I’ve only been Gym Leader for three months now when suddenly I start getting emergency comms about various explosions and raids and whatnot!” Misty nearly threw her hands up in agitation, but remembered Pikachu at the last moment, “And, of course, when Lance called to see who was available to come here, everyone else was apparently too busy to come!”

“Brock came here,” Ash pointed out, though he wasn’t necessarily arguing the point. Misty was going to rant one way or the other.

“He’s Brock ,” Misty deadpanned, flicking her hand flippantly, “He’s the exception. Surge is doing his own thing, Sabrina’s abroad, Erika and Blaine are too good for us apparently , and Giovanni and Janine haven’t responded one way or the other-”

“And that would be Lance,” Professor Oak spoke up, inadvertently interrupting Misty. Before her hackles could rise, however, the thrum of a helicopter neared the lab, only pausing once it encountered the psychic barrier.

Ash squinted his eyes, watching with the others as the side-door of the helicopter was opened revealing the Champion of Indigo, with a few other faces crowded behind him.

Nodding to himself, Professor Oak turned to Alakazam, “Lower the barrier.” As the helicopter descended by the lab, he turned to those already with him, “I’m sure you all understand the severity of this meeting. What is said here cannot be spoken of outside this building, am I understood?”

Ash nodded with the others, turning his eyes through the window to see Lance touching the ground first, with Steven and Lorelei immediately following.

After them, a scowling silver-haired woman stomped out of the helicopter, only to be followed by… Paul , which Ash wasn’t expecting. Ash’s eyebrows only raised further as Iris and Cilan hopped out of the helicopter, followed by… Alain.

Any surprise - and unease - Ash may have felt in his appearance was quickly smothered as Bonnie hopped out, with Clemont stumbling behind. Given their appearance, it wasn’t so much a surprise to see Serena trail behind them, with Greninja stepping beside her, but it didn’t stop the drop in his gut at the sight of her.

He still hadn’t fully processed what happened at the airport.

Ash shook himself from his daze, mildly glaring at Misty as she smirked smugly at him. She always seemed to intuitively see these things, even when he didn’t tell her. Though, before she could tease him for it, the door to the lab was opened, and Lance’s group filed in.

Lance and Steven didn’t waste any time before ducking off into a corner with Professor Oak, conversing in harsh whispers and heavy scowls. This left the rest of Lance’s crowd to stand a touch awkwardly before looking to find someone to talk to that they were familiar with.

Given that most of them recognised him immediately, many went straight for him.

Bonnie was the fastest, running as fast as her little legs could take her, “Ash! I didn’t know you’d be here!” She quickly spun to her brother, her face shifting to a pout, “I would’ve been way more excited if I knew Ash would be here!”

“I- I thought you knew that already!” Clemont objected, raising his hands in defence, “I mean- We knew we were going to Kanto , and I thought it was heavily implied by Mr. Blackthorne that we’d see Ash here!”

Bonnie, though, apparently didn’t appreciate the Champion’s subtlety in that matter, and decided to take it out on her brother by aggressively pouting at him, the Dedenne in her purse doing the same.

Serena took the opportunity to neatly sidestep the two siblings, smiling softly at Ash. She opened her mouth to speak, before stuttering midway through, causing her words to come out garbled, “Ashhh-hello… hi- Hi, Ash…”

Ash stared for a few moments, feeling many things that he had yet to process - and, quite frankly, didn’t even know how to begin processing - before blinking, replying a touch too loudly, “Ah- Hi, Serena,” - Arceus above, Ash, you are hopeless - “Uhhh,” - He can feel Misty’s silent snickers behind him, damn her - “...How are you doing?”

“Well…” Serena responded, face heating up and appearing just as awkward and lost as Ash felt - which honestly didn’t help matters - “I suppose I’m doing fine enough, given the circumstances…”

“Circumstances, right ,” Ash nodded sagely, despite feeling any and all wisdom leaking out of his ears. His eyes widened, “Wait, were you attacked?”

“No!” Serena yelped, before widening her own eyes as she realised it was a touch too loud, and now everyone in the room - except Professor Oak, Lance, and Steven - were watching them, “I’m fine, Ash. I…” She leaned in to whisper to his ear, “Can we talk? Outside, that is?”

Oh, well, that got rid of the tension in his gut.

Only to replace it with an unfamiliar dread.

“Okay…” Ash responded lowly, stepping towards the back door. He scooted over to Gary before he went through the door, “Could you please let me know when we’re needed back inside?”

Gary raised a tired eyebrow, “Sure,” He leaned back with a small, knowing smirk, “Hope your girlfriend’s not too hard on you. In my experience, a talk is never a good thing.”

“She’s not-” Ash started, on reflex, before stopping. Was she? He settled on a tired glare, “Shut up, Gary.”

Gary snorted, waving him off as he stepped onto the ranch. Serena was already several steps ahead, waiting for him by the remains of an old oak tree.

Of course, the tree itself was nothing more than charred bark and ashes, burned in much the same way most of the ranch was. Ash had to hold off a sudden wave of fury at the thought of all the pokemon who had died or fled during the attack.

Many of Ash’s smaller, least experienced pokemon had yet to be found.

Ash shook his head, shoving the anger away. It wasn’t worth it. He turned to see Serena watching him in mild worry, which caused his frown to deepen, “What’s wrong, Serena?”

Serena seemed to fight back a grimace, “I-” She reconsidered her words, “Are you alright, Ash?”

Ash felt his brow crease in confusion, and automatically replied, “I’m fine.” He watched as Serena’s own frown deepened - disbelieving - and felt compelled to ask, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Serena blinked, “Your home was attacked, Ash,” Her gaze hardened, “That isn’t something that can just be swept away.”

Ash blinked, “That’s not what I’m doing, though,” He extended a hand back towards the lab, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but-” Serena sighed, sounding more frustrated than she usually was, “It hasn’t even been three months since Lumiose, and…”

“And what?” Ash asked as Serena trailed off, “Something new and terrible has happened?” Ash snorted, crossing his arms, “I’ve learned to deal with it.”

“I’m worried,” Serena cut in, eyes narrowed to hide small glimmers of tears, “I’m worried for you, Ash. You seem exhausted , and it’s not your fault-”

“Why are you worried about me? ” Ash asked, rubbing his eyes once more, “I can deal with this Serena. You’re the one whose home was nearly wiped out.”

“Yes, and you were at the centre of it,” Serena snapped back, before smoothing her face, “Just because you can deal with it doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Actually, it kinda does ,” Ash growled in a flash of anger, before closing his eyes and breathing slowly, “...I’m sorry for snapping, Serena, but I have had to deal with lots of things over the past few years. This just seems to be one of the worse ones…”

Serena watched him in concern, “That doesn’t mean you should have to deal with it alone…”

“I have Pikachu,” Ash replied offhandedly, before turning back to look at her with a raised eyebrow, “Or do you mean something… else? ”

“Ash,” Serena began to fiddle with her skirt, a blush rising to her cheeks as she sidled closer to him, “At… At the airport, I-”

“HEY ASH!” Gary screamed across the ranch, startling both Ash and Serena apart, “GET YOUR ASS IN HERE! WE’RE STARTING!”

Ash turned back and hollered, “We’re coming!” before turning back to Serena, “We’ll… we’ll talk later, okay?”

Serena nodded, her blush slowly receding, “Okay…”

They ran back towards the lab, opening the door to the makeshift meeting room just in time for Lance to project a global map on the central computer screen.

The Champion gave a single cold glance at them before nodding to himself, “With everyone here, we can begin,” He nodded towards Steven and Lorelei as he began to mark several locations throughout the map, “Yesterday, July 20th, from the hours 0500 to 1600, 34 attacks were carried out across the Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, and Kalos regions.”

“These attacks all started between the hours of 0500 to 0600, and employed similar tactics with their pokemon and positioning,” Lance minimised the now-marked map and began to draw a visual representation of the attackers’ forces, “Within each attacking team, there were at least 3 individuals commanding multiple heavy pokemon simultaneously. They employed deliberately loud and destructive moves to draw attention to them as a smaller group of at least five scouts raided the targets, stealing anything from chemical agents to electronics.”

He turned to Oak for a moment before turning back, “Amongst the sites attacked, only five successfully defended against the attackers. Unfortunately, we were only able to secure a single attacker alive, however, we were able to extract the basics of the organisation that planned this attack.”

Ash watched as those seated perked up as Lance scrawled several words onto the board, largest amongst them being ‘ TEAM SOURCE’ . He raised an eyebrow at the name, along with a few others, though none in the room seemed to recognise it.

“Team Source,” Lance continued, glancing around the room to meet everyone’s eyes, “Is the name of the organisation that planned and led this attack,” He nodded towards Lorelei, who was tucked in the corner of the room, typing into a personal computer, “We were unable to get any identities on their leaders, but we did get their titles, along with who led these attacks. Lorelei is currently combing through the League database to find any potential info on them.”

Misty raised her hand, but didn’t wait for Lance to point to her before asking, “What are their titles?”

Lance paused, looking at Professor Oak for permission, which he received with a nod, “There are supposedly five leaders of this organisation, with each of them having a title based on a tarot card,” He began to list them on the board underneath the name of the evil team, “There is the Emperor, the supposed leader of the team. There’s the Empress, who seems to gather the team’s intel. There’s the Tower, who apparently handles the membership of the organisation. There’s the Magician, who handles research. And there is the Chariot, who we know to have led yesterday’s attacks.”

Ash crossed his arms as he and everyone else present mulled over Lance’s words. This… seemed larger than any of them had initially thought, which didn’t exactly bode well. Ash couldn’t help but wonder what this new team’s goal was; every evil team had them. Whether it was as simple as Team Rocket’s desire for money and power to Team Flare’s vision of a ‘perfect world’, he had learned that these types of people always wanted something.

But what did Team Source want?

“Question,” Paul broke in, waiting until Lance nodded to continue, “I know that communications have been mixed, but how many confirmed deaths do we have on our hands?”

Ash’s eyes flickered downwards, along with a few others’. He wasn’t naive enough to think that everyone had emerged unscathed from the attacks, but it still wasn’t a pleasant thought.

There were still hundreds of people unaccounted for throughout Lumiose, not to mention those already confirmed deceased.

Lance didn’t immediately answer the question, instead leaning back to whisper quietly with the silver-haired woman - Ash distantly noted how dark her eyes were . After a few moments, Lance stepped back, allowing the silver-haired woman to step forward, only barely holding back a glower as she responded in monotone, “Only select targets in Johto and Hoenn have been confirmed, with 17 confirmed fatalities,” Her eyes seemed to darken further as she regarded them in an almost neutral distaste, “Amongst them were notable trainers and professors, such as Professor Daniel Birch, Professor Henry Elm, Roxanne Pierre, and Agatha Kikuko.”

“WHAT?” Gary’s voice carried the loudest over the sudden rise of outraged voices. Ash remained silent as Professor Oak tried to get Gary back into his seat, without much avail, “Agatha was killed? ”

The woman’s eyes seemed to darken further, but she was blocked from snapping back as Steven Stone stepped forward, his face remaining solemn, “Yes, Mr. Oak, and for Ms. Kikuko to have fallen, this organisation must be very dangerous.”

Ash nodded to himself, silently agreeing with the man. While he hadn’t ever met the woman, he knew enough about her to know that she was considered one of the most skilled trainers throughout both Kanto and Johto. For her to have been killed…

Ash snapped back to the meeting as Professor Oak stepped forward, eyes seeming sad, yet determined, “Ms. Mela mentioned that only a few locations have confirmed numbers. What is the projected number of deaths?”

Steven only looked more grim, “...We’re looking to at least one hundred casualties.”

Ash’s frown deepened, though it was more in thought than in sorrow. Sure, it the deaths of a hundred people was never something to be celebrated, but…

Well, there was almost a part of Ash that felt relieved , and he knew he really shouldn’t feel that way - I mean, good lord Ash, these are people’s lives you’re thinking about - but a hundred deaths was certainly better than a thousand , and that was something to be celebrated, right? At least it wasn’t as bad as it was three months ago, where last Ash checked - which he did so every day, multiple times - there were over five thousand confirmed deaths. Compared to that, one hundred deaths was a mercy.

Ash didn’t notice Serena’s concerned gaze upon him.

“Right now,” Ash looked up - oh, Lance was speaking again - “Our main priority is banding together to fight off this threat. I’ve tried sending out a notice to the Indigo and Silver Leagues, but haven’t received as many responses as I would’ve liked,” - Misty snorted bitterly - “Cynthia should be enroute to Sinnoh to do the same, along with Alder in Unova.”

“I will be going back to Hoenn to do the same,” Steven continued, before extending a hand towards the silver-haired woman, “The rest of you will be split up between Karen and Lance to go throughout Johto and Kanto respectively. Before we split up, does anyone have any questions?”

Iris - who Ash had honestly forgotten was present - raised her hand, “Uh, yeah. If we’re all splitting up by region, why aren’t Cilan and I in Unova?”

“We don’t have the luxury of time,” Lance answered, looking at his watch, “Taking a detour to Unova would have wasted hours, and Indigo was hit the hardest, so we needed the most people to help.”

Iris lowered her hand with a meek nod, which Ash would have normally found uncharacteristic, though with the solemn air in the building, it wasn’t exactly out of place.

As Lance and the silver-haired woman - Karen - began to assign people to different teams, Ash allowed himself one last look at the room with all of his friends and acquaintances picked up during his travels.

He didn’t know it then - and how could he, with what happened during the following months - but it would be the last that he would see many of them in the land of the living.

And then, Ash opened his eyes-

…

Route 28, December 5th, 1997

-And found a pair of cold, grey eyes staring back.

“Hmm,” Herren rubbed his chin, barren of any stubble - lucky - “A considerable improvement to yesterday. I can only sense what’s on the surface level.”

Red bit back the growl that threatened to erupt from his throat, and once more shoved back the memory to the recesses of his mind, “And what do you sense?”

“Guilt,” Herren muttered without any preamble, idly petting Koi, who lay on his lap, “Though that’s a staple for you. I can also sense a certain level of dread, though it’s masked well.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Red asked with a raised eyebrow, hiding his still-receding emotions behind a veneer of gravel, “Mask my emotions to mask my aura?”

“The point is control ,” Herren stressed, “It’s one thing to simply smother one’s aura. It’s another to choose what to show and what to hide.”

“Is that what you do?” Red asked, not bothering to hide his residual anger - old memories always dragged it up - “Do you choose how to act around me?”

“Yes,” Herren answered simply, briefly surprising Red, “But it doesn’t come easy, Red. It takes time and practice.”

“I’m aware of that,” Red grumbled, crossing his arms in distaste, “But I don’t exactly have the luxury of time.”

Oh, how right Lance was…

“And why is that?” Herren asked, raising an eyebrow in almost a bored interest.

Red once more bites back a growl, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would,” Herren responded with a small nod, “And if I wanted to, I could ask Salvare what he knows. But I’m not; I’m asking you. ”

Red sighed, breaking eye-contact with Herren to glance over at Salvare, who is meditating with an Absol on his lap - the same Absol from the Ruins, Red learned . The Absol opened a single eye lazily to regard Red in something that resembled kinship - or contempt - before falling once more back asleep.

Red turned back to Herren, the latent glow in his eyes dimming as the last vestiges of the memory dwindled away, “Any answer I could give wouldn’t satisfy you.”

“And how would you know?” Herren responded, leaning forward with a challenging smirk, “You’re avoiding the question, Red.”

“I suppose I am,” Red muttered drily, before raising his voice to ask, “You said I’m improving, though?”

Herren eyes him for a few moments, then leans back with a shrug, moving his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, “Well, your aura is still loud as balls, but it’s little baby balls instead of big, burly man balls-”

“Just-” Red cut in, massaging his forehead, “Don’t use that analogy.”

Herren seemed to find his annoyance amusing, but acquiesced all the same, “Fine… Well, anyone with a lick of aura can still sense you rather easily.”

Red grumbled to himself, “And that’s a good thing?”

“Well, at least it’s no longer quite as strong,” Herren responded, his tone remaining cheerful despite Red’s grumbling, “Before, I could sense you for miles . Now…” Herren shrugged, “I dunno, maybe a few kilometres?”

Red allows himself to silently convey his dissatisfaction with nothing more than a look , prompting Herren to huff, “Look, Red, you may think that’s bad, but at least you know it’s a problem. At your age, I didn’t even know what the fuck aura was. ”

“And Salvare?” Red asked, bringing the conversation away from himself and to his protege, “How is he doing?”

Herren hummed, turning his eyes to watch as Salvare idly petted the Absol as he meditated on his chosen memory, “He’s doing better than you, but that’s largely due to his aura being naturally quiet,” Herren narrows his eyes as he focuses on Salvare’s form - from which Red can see a faint, hazy purple glow - “I can sense traces of fear… and love. Anything further than that is too garbled to parse,” Herren waits a few moments before leaning up, “He’s beginning to leave the memory.”

Red watched in silence as Salvare began to stir, blinking his - purple - eyes open as he reoriented himself to his surroundings, “How long was I out for?”

“Almost two hours,” Herren answered, still keeping his narrowed eyes on Salvare’s form, “You seem troubled.”

Salvare wrinkled his nose, mildly surprising Red as he responded bitterly, “Well, you told us to meditate on our most painful memories. What did you expect?”

Herren shrugged, “Fair enough,” He leaned back, resuming his petting of Koi, “Do you feel any different?”

Salvare’s face was about as dubious as Red felt - which was something of a small relief - “I mean… I’m feeling a little more awake?”

Herren nodded silently, not giving his thoughts one way or the other, “And what about Red? Do you sense anything different with him?”

Both Red and Salvare frowned, thought the latter dutifully turned to him, rubbing his chin in thought, “I dunno… Maybe he’s a bit less… bright? ”

Herren nodded once more, though he looked far more satisfied, “Well that’s something, at least,” He motions for them to stand, before doing so himself, “Next time you both do this, try to see if Red seems more or less bright than he does now.”

Salvare’s brow scrunched in apparent confusion, “Okay?”

Herren nodded, turning to Red, “And you,” He pointed his finger at him, “Continue meditating like I’ve taught you. Hopefully, this time next year, you can be practically invisible in aura.”

Red rolled his eyes, snapping a sarcastic salute, “Aye aye, captain.”

Herren snorted, “Piss off,” He began to step away, “No seriously, piss off to do whatever training y’all are doing for the Silver Conference. I have some calls to make.”

Red raised an eyebrow, but wasn’t able to respond before Salvare walked up beside him, “Hey Red, can we try out some more improvised moves today?”

Red pursed his lips, watching Herren flip walk away before turning back to Salvare, “Alright, let’s see what you can do.”

…

Athlete’s Village, Silver Town, December 6th, 1997

During his time as Ash, Red had travelled to many places, and had participated in numerous Conferences around the world. While each Conference was slightly different in what they honoured and how they were conducted, they all had one thing in common: glory.

Everyone and their mother had pokemon, and nearly every kid tried their luck as a pokemon trainer. Whilst many eventually retired, or simply remained in Battling Rings, some were able to rise to such a level that they were able to battle, and win against a Gym Leader.

With that victory, and the badge earned from it, they began a journey that had the opportunity to propel them from one of a million to one of the greats.

The Gym Circuit was designed to challenge these trainers in their strength, strategy, and grit, ultimately refining them to the point where they could battle to a level that had previously been relegated to warlords of centuries past.

And while some Gyms were easier or harder than others, they all ultimately pushed towards this point, pushed these trainers towards the Elite, marked them as the strong.

And at the end of their road, these trainers would meet together in a tournament, a celebration of their achievements, where they could wage a friendly war to see who amongst them would rise to be the very best.

They would become stars, icons of their regions. They would either go and retire in honour… or they would go even further beyond, pursuing glory in other regions, or in their own regions with the Elite Four, and the Champion.

This was how the current Champions of Indigo, Hoenn, and Sinnoh rose to fame, by first winning their respective conferences before rising up the ranks as an Elite, before finally proving themselves as the strongest trainers in their regions, being crowned as Champions.

And with their rise, so too did the interest and popularity of the Conferences rise, as more and more people of all walks of life came to watch, waiting for the chance to find themselves lucky enough to be present for when another trainer of the Champions’ calibre rose amongst the ranks.

And so, even for a Conference as relatively minor as the Silver Conference, there was always a chance that the next Lance, the next Cynthia, the next Samuel Oak would rise.

All of this was to say…

There were far too many people here for Red’s liking.

“You’re glowering again,” Red snapped back to reality at Salvare’s voice, “Are you mad at something?”

“I’m not mad ,” Red murmured, turning back to the digital registration he was nearly done with, “I’m just… not very used to this many people.”

Salvare hummed, looking around, “It is tightly packed,” He turned back to Red with a small frown, “Are you worried about some sort of attack?”

“No,” Red responded, signing his name at the end of the registration contract, “Too many League members.”

Not to mention Team Flare’s attack being the first of its kind.

Salvare nodded to himself, though his face remained visibly dubious. His eyes flickered over to something behind Red, “A few people are staring at us.”

It’s only through long-ingrained discipline that Red doesn’t immediately turn around to look, “Who?”

Was it Team Source?

“Just… random people, I guess,” Salvare shrugged, looking more embarrassed than worried, “Oh, they’re taking pictures of us…”

Red’s eye twitched, “Brilliant,” He sent in his registration, “Are you done?”

“Yeah,” Salvare turned away from the people looking at them, his face beginning to go red in rising discomfort, “Can we go now?”

Before Red could respond - yes, he would have said yes - a familiar, but no less jarring voice hollered out, “HEY! RED, SALVARE!”

Red turned around alongside Salvare to find Karen shoving through the crowd to reach them. He couldn’t help but find a dark amusement in their faces as they were pushed aside by the woman, which was probably cause for worry, but Red didn’t pay it any mind.

Besides, Salvare actually seemed pleasantly surprised to see her, “Karen! I didn’t expect to see you so soon!”

“Well I thought I’d see y’all sooner!” Karen snapped back as she reached them, though it was in good humour, “I was about to go out and haul y’alls asses here myself.”

“We’re here now,” Red pointed out dryly, noting with distaste how some people seemed to be finding this meeting a prime source for photography, “Let’s move our reunion elsewhere.”

Karen snorted, though she didn’t fight as Red swiftly led them away, “I know it’s only been three weeks, Red, but you can stand to be a little more excited.”

“Sure, just not in view of the cameras ,” Red grumbled, before turning a raised brow to her, “Do you know what that’s about, by the way?”

Karen shrugged, “You’re getting famous, Red, or at least enough for people with phones to take pictures,” She grinned, nudging Salvare in his side, “Salvare also has a bit of a reputation going, especially after Goldenrod.”

“Really?” Salvare asked, appearing more shocked at his own growing notoriety than Red’s.

“Yes, really?” Red asked as well, though his tone was more suspicious than Salvare’s. He had only been here for a little over three months, after all. Surely he hadn’t garnered that grand a reputation that quickly.

Right?

Karen sighed, massaging her brow, “You know, I almost forgot how oblivious you can be about certain things, Red,” She threw him a slight smirk, “You’re strong, Red. People noticed. ”

Red blinked, “I’ve only just signed up for the Conference, though? I doubt I’m that noteworthy.”

Karen stared at him in deadpan, and Salvare only looked slightly baffled, “You do know there’s an entire Battlenet page about you, right?”

Red stopped, failing to fight off an embarrassed blush at his - rather admittedly large - oversight, “I didn’t know Battlenet was already a thing.”

By the time he recognised the error in his words, Karen narrowed her eyes, “ Already a thing? ” She shook her head, “Whatever, I’ll interrogate you later. Here,” She led them to the PC corner, “I’ll show you.”

Red crossed his arms, sharing a small glance with Pichu on his shoulder before turning back to face the computer screen, now flashing a pale blue as Karen navigated through Battlenet.

Salvare crouched, cupping his chin in interest as Karen selected the page for the 1997 Silver Conference, displaying the entered contestants.

Salvare let out a low whistle as Karen began to scroll through the contestant list, which was rather long. She paused at her own name, marked as the 48th contestant, “That’s me,” She began to scroll further down, finally stopping at Red and Salvare’s names, marked as the 189th and 190th contestants respectively, “And that’s y’all.”

“That was… fast,” Red noted, sharing a glance with Salvare, “We only submitted our contracts a few minutes ago.”

“It’s the last day to register, so the League’s being as efficient as possible,” Karen shrugged, “At least be glad that there were slots available.”

Karen’s attention was brought back to the screen as it automatically refreshed, displaying a new name as the 191st contestant, “See, now there’s only nine spots left. Had you been here even an hour later, you might’ve been too late.”

Red nodded to himself, only for his eyes to freeze as he read the new contestant’s name.

Paul Shinji.

That… was surprising . Red snapped back to awareness before either Karen or Salvare could notice, but the name still rang in his head.

Paul.

The last Red had seen of Paul had been the day he had killed Judgement.

While he couldn’t say he was ever friends with Paul, they had earned enough of one another’s trust to survive for those first few terrible months of the Storm, alongside Cynthia and the others.

How old would Paul be now? Twelve? Thirteen?

Red shook his head as Karen selected Red’s Battlenet page, “Honestly, it’s actually kinda funny reading what people have written about you, Red,” She highlighted a specific comment, snorting to himself, “After travelling with you, and seeing you train, some of these people’s theories are pretty stupid. I mean, this guy says, ‘ I’d bet all my money that Satoshi is roiding up his pokemon. There’s no other way a Pichu could take down a Steelix on its own’ .”

In his own humble opinion, Red did not find it so funny, “I wouldn’t inject my pokemon with steroids, ” Karen snorted at the vitriol in his voice, prompting him to turn his wrath on her, “I wouldn’t! ”

“I know, Red,” Karen consoled with an easy grin, “And don’t worry, you’ve got defenders of your own saying the same.”

Seeing Red’s lingering confusion, Salvare butted in, “It’s the way of the pokenet, Red. People talk shit without knowing what they’re talking about.”

Upon turning to Salvare with a raised eyebrow, the kid began to crack up, leaning against Karen as the two of them tried to keep it together in the midst of his ignorance.

Absolutely brilliant, Red.

Despite being born after them, you are somehow simultaneously ancient compared to them.

“I’m not an old man,” Red grumbled to himself, causing Karen to bark a single laugh.

“Please, Red, you’re a year older than me. How do you not know this?” She asked with mirth.

In truth: Ash never cared for technology. In response, Red deadpanned, “Technology sucks.”

Karen only resumed laughing, “Fuck, you are an old man!” And Red allowed himself a small smile as the other two cracked themselves up, even if it was at his expense. This was nice. This was… nice.

Red had almost forgotten how nice human friends could be.

Red’s smile unfortunately died a quick death when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He turned around, only to see Herren standing there with a bemused smirk, holding a popsicle to the side that Koi was nibbling on, “Something funny going on?”

“Herren!” Karen exclaimed, shooting out of her seat - knocking Salvare on his ass - “I didn’t know you were here!”

“Well here I am,” Herren replied with an soft smile - far softer than any look he gave Red or Salvare - “How are you doing, little shadow?”

“Me? Oh, I’m wonderful ,” Karen replied with an exaggerated sweep of her hair, “I’m going to win this conference, and I am going to enjoy it.”

“I’m sure you will,” Herren nodded back with an amused smile - Koi chirped in affirmation by his side - “Agatha hasn’t been too hard on you, has she?”

Red noted how her brow twitched, though her voice remained the same as she responded, “She’s not that hard on me, Herren.”

“Sure, sure,” Herren nodded easily - though his tone revealed just how little stock he took in her words - and turned back towards Red and Salvare, “I hope I’m not interrupting something?”

“You’re not,” Karen assured with a wave of her hand, “I was just showing Red his Battlenet page.”

Herren hummed, “Really-” He stopped with a small glower as he pulled out an old pokedex, which was vibrating, “I’m getting a call. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Red watched Herren step back a ways - his face becoming more and more stony as he listened to whoever was speaking to him - before turning back to Karen as she drawled, “Well, once he’s done with that, we can head over to the training salle for the afternoon.”

“Alright,” Red shrugged before eyeing her with a glint of challenge in his eyes, “You up for a rematch?”

“Hmm,” Karen hummed with a smirk, “I think I’ll pass. I expect we’ll end up fighting each other in the tournament…” Her eyes narrowed as she looked past Red’s shoulder, “...Is that Lance?”

Red blinked, and Salvare turned around with comically wide eyes, “Oh shit, it is! ” He scooted behind Red, watching the encroaching Champion warily.

For his own part, Red turned around far more sedately, only to raise a slightly incredulous eyebrow as he recognised Lance’s form amongst the crowd, though it took a few moments.

The Champion seemed to be dressed in what Red could only assume was some sort of disguise, wearing a heavy sports coat and a ballcap. Despite the evident distaste that Lance seemed to have for his outfit - which really did not fit the Champion - he looked decades younger than Red could ever recall, bearing none of the stress lines that marred the man’s face only seven years later.

Lance made eye contact with Red, causing the Champion to widen his eyes before turning back to wave someone over. Red stood alongside his friends as the Champion was joined by a blue-haired woman - Clair, her name is Clair - before walking over to him.

Even if his memories of Lance were more or less positive, Red still silently unclipped one of his pokeballs.

Just in case.

“Greetings, Mr. Satoshi,” Lance extended a hand, “I’m Lance Blackthorne, Champion of Indigo.”

Red met Lance’s hand with his own, “Red Satoshi. It’s good to meet you,” - the truth of that was yet to be seen - Red decided to get to the point, though he tried to be polite about it, “Any particular reason why you went out of your way to meet me?”

Lance paused, still grasping Red’s hand, “To be blunt, Satoshi, I have some questions, and you have answers.”

Red saw Karen blink in confusion in his peripheral vision. He kept his grip on Lance’s hands, replying with, perhaps, a touch more bite than was needed, “And how do you reckon that?”

Dial it back, Red.

“Does Goldenrod ring any bells?” Lance questioned, staring suspiciously into Red’s eyes.

Clair proceeded to groan into her hands.

Red kept the smile on his face - which was only partially successful - “Yes. I got my 6th Badge there.”

Lance’s eyebrow twitched, and he began to frown at Red’s smartassery. Before he could respond, Karen piped up in agitation, “What do you want, Lance?”

Lance pursed his lips, “Hello to you too, Karen.” He grunted as Clair slapped him on the back, turning back to Red, whom he still gripped hands with, “I just wanted to see about having a… meeting with him.”

Red raised a curious eyebrow - an interrogation, then - “I see,” He did not remove his hand, “I suppose, if I decline, I’ll be placed on some sort of League watchlist?”

Lance did not respond one way or the other, silently giving Red his answer. Clair pinched her nose - which was burning red - and grit out, “ Lance. ”

“What?” He asked roughly, turning back to her, “ He’s the one who said it. I’m not going to lie to him.”

How honourable.

Red took the moment to consider his options. On the one hand, this would give him a potential opportunity to ingratiate himself to the League through one of the Champions, far sooner than he had initially thought possible. Even better, given Team Source’s ties to the League, Lance may be one of the only leaders Red knew for certain was not affiliated with the organisation.

On the other hand… assuming that Lance was talking about Goldenrod in a sense beyond his Gym Battle there, well, Red wasn’t exactly innocent.

Red had slaughtered dozens of people in that underground lab, and while he felt no remorse for those taking their lives, it wouldn’t do him any favours if brought to a court of law. Add to that his subsequent psychic manipulation and theft at the Pokemon Center, and Red may just find himself facing the Champion’s wrath rather than his good graces.

Lance was always a stickler for law and order.

That line of thought would also inevitably lead to why Red did those things, which would lead to Vee. This, more than anything else, stayed Red’s hand. Vee was still an infant in many ways, and he had been successful thus far in keeping the spotlight away from her.

He would rather like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

However… as Red thought about it, he couldn’t help but recall Elm’s words.

‘I doubt you’ll be able to hide her much longer from the public eye.’

Red would have to deal with Vee’s existence being revealed to the world eventually - it would be impossible to hide her forever - so perhaps it was best for Red to rip off the bandage now, rather than waiting for Lance to learn through the grapevine.

Ultimately, Lance was going to learn of Vee either way, but the manner in which he learns was up to Red.

And it only took a single thought about the possibility of Team Source somehow getting to Lance first that spurred Red to speak.

“Alright,” Red breathed, finally letting go of Lance’s hand, “I’ll talk.”

To his side, he could see Karen’s face briefly flash in surprise, before settling in quiet distaste - whether at him or at Lance, Red couldn’t say. Salvare seemed oddly grim whereas Lance’s eyes shined in satisfaction.

“Excellent. If you could follow us, Satoshi,” He turned to leave, only to stop when Salvare suddenly blocked his path, looking both skittish yet grimly determined.

Red raised an eyebrow from behind Lance, but despite meeting his eyes for a second, Salvare still held his ground, speaking slowly and solidly to Lance, “I want Red back here within an hour.”

Red couldn’t help but blink - where had this come from? - which was a reaction mirrored by Karen. Meanwhile, instead of looking as bewildered as Red felt, Lance only looked tired, though as he opened his mouth to speak, he was beaten to the punch by Clair, who snapped at Salvare, “Listen, kid, we just want to talk to him! We’re not going to kidnap him!”

“Then we want him back within two hours,” Karen jumped in - further adding to Red’s surprise - raising an imperious eyebrow at the other woman, “That should be enough time, yes?”

“ Fine ,” Lance snapped with a wave of the hand, cutting off the other woman before she could snap back, “He’ll be back within two hours,” He turned to Red, looking much more ticked than before, “Let’s go.”

Red nodded wordlessly, walking forward to match Lance and Clair’s strides. He turned back to give his friends an appreciative nod. Despite him not entirely understanding why they felt the need to protect(?) him, he could appreciate the sentiment.

Stolen story; please report.

He didn’t think it was deserved, but he rather felt it wasn’t the time to make his thoughts on the matter known.

Lance took the lead in navigating the crowds, somewhat-anxiously pulling on his hat in the more populated areas. Red was still put-off by the get-up. It really didn’t fit the man’s style, especially paired with Clair, who sported the same apparel that she normally wore at the Blackthorne Gym. Red imagined there was a reason for the get-up, but he didn’t really understand why.

After a few minutes of walking, Red realised that he could just ask .

After all, the worst that he could get was silence.

“Forgive me if I’m being rude, but,” Lance turned his head a fraction as the three of them entered a small diner - interesting place for an interrogation - “Why the outfit?”

Clair snorted, before covering her mouth with widened eyes, whereas Lance only looked exhausted, uttering the word, “Fans,” as if that answered his question.

Red blinked, opening his mouth to ask for clarification before fully processing what he meant. Red slowly closed his mouth, finding the answer both rather simple and understandable.

Red could only imagine the rabid crowds that would form had Lance showed up in his iconic draconic clothing.

He almost wondered why Clair didn’t do the same, except that there weren’t any crowds that formed over her. Maybe she didn’t have the notoriety for it?

Then again… Ash never heard much about Clair outside of Blackthorne City and Iris’ various ramblings over dragons and such.

Red closed off his wandering thoughts as the three sat at a table at the corner of the diner, with him on one side and the other two on the opposite. Red almost wondered why Lance would want to be here if he was avoiding fans, but a single glance at the establishment showed that it was almost empty, which Red supposed was due to the time.

Few people would come in to have lunch around 2 P.M., after all.

Pichu - who had been deadset on glaring at Lance - perked up and hopped on the table, aiming towards the ketchup bottle. With several years’ experience, Red snatched the bottle away from the little monster, handing it to the waiter who had frozen by their table, watching the now-seething rodent with wide eyes.

Red shook the bottle to get the waiter’s attention, “Here. Please wait until we’re gone until putting that back, thanks.” He didn’t wait for a response before turning back to his interrogators, who were staring at him in wariness and bemusement respectively.

In the corner of his vision, the waiter shook his head to reorient himself, “Right, what would you all like to order?”

“I’ll have a medium tea, unsweetened,” Lance drawled before turning to Clair, exchanging a nod with her before turning back to the waiter, “And she’ll have the Silver Burger.”

The waiter nodded, writing down the orders before turning to Red, “And what about you, sir?”

Red tapped his finger against the table - this was not shaping up to be how he expected - “I’ll have water, please,” He glanced at Pichu’s pouting form for a moment before adding, “And a tablespoon of ketchup.”

The waiter blinked, glancing a moment at the bottle in his hands before sighing, “Okay… I’ll be back in a few moments with your drinks and - er - the ketchup.”

Red nodded to himself, turning back to exchange a stare with Lance. The man seemed to be silently evaluating him, as if Red was some sort of puzzle for the man to solve. Clair, meanwhile, was visibly embarrassed by the whole thing, if her lingering blush was anything to go off of.

For his own part, Red was content with keeping the silence, though he knew it wouldn’t last. Even Pichu caught on to the silent tension between them, as he curled up by Red’s side to glare once more at Lance.

Finally, once the waiter returned with the drinks - and a spoon of ketchup that Red gave to Pichu - Lance spoke in a neutral tone, “I don’t know what to make of you, Satoshi.”

Red raised an eyebrow - that wasn’t what he expected Lance to start off with - and remarked, “I don’t know what to make of this interrogation either, so we’re on the same boat.”

“This isn’t an…” Clair’s voice was hesitant - she was nervously touching her bracelets - “Interrogation, per say… ”

“Hmm, it kinda is, though,” Red pointed out, keeping his voice level, “You’re asking me questions with the unspoken threat of taking action against me if I don’t answer.”

“I believe we’ve started off on the wrong foot,” Lance sighed, taking his cap off to reveal naturally spiky hair, “We’re not going to treat you like a criminal, Satoshi. We’d just appreciate a greater understanding of who you are, and what you want.”

Red leaned back, crossing his arms - Lance’s words were just a nicer-sounding way of saying the same thing, in his mind - “So you were lying about the watchlist?”

Lance took a sip of his tea, his eyes remaining shrewd, “You’re already on a watchlist, actually,” At Clair’s sudden glare, Lance elaborated, “Not a criminal one, but you are a person of interest to the League.”

Red raised an eyebrow to hide his surprise - and wariness - at the news, “Really?”

“Yes,” Lance answered, rubbing his chin before adding, “Your actions these past three months have caused some stirs within the League, starting with your aid to the Ecruteak Gym.”

The Team Rocket attack.

Red narrowed his eyes, “What actions?”

“You tell me,” Lance replied seriously, reading the wariness in Red’s eyes, “I have no tangible evidence of any wrongdoing, so you have nothing to fear from sharing.”

Of course, there was the unspoken ‘unless you have something to hide.’

Which Red did. A lot, actually. While Red still trusted Lance’s character as a good man, he didn’t necessarily trust the League.

He could recall the Emperor’s words.

“You are aware that we control the League.”

And last time…

The League had withered away from the inside.

Still… Red’s goal remained the same: gain Lance’s trust before he turns against him.

Easier said than done, certainly… but it could be done.

Somehow.

“You mentioned Goldenrod,” Red stated, prompting Lance to nod, “...What do you want to know?”

Lance seemed to mull over his words, exchanging a look with Clair that had her lean back with a sigh. He gave a few agitated taps on the table before bluntly asking, “Did you override the aura of the Nurse Joy of Goldenrod to make her forget something?”

Red froze for a moment - how did he know? - before letting out his breath.

However, his reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by them, as Lance leaned forward with a shadow crossing over his eyes, growling out, “ Explain. ”

Shit. Immediately into the deep end, then. Red racked his brain for an explanation that was both true and reasonable and he once more cursed his recklessness at that time because he just wasn’t thinking clearly.

Red’s newest pokeball rattled, and his awareness snapped back into place, “I had to protect someone - a pokemon,” His words were rushed, yet oddly smooth - a fleeting presence in the back of his mind stoked the calm flame of rationality - “She - the pokemon, that is - was in critical condition, and needed a specialised healing unit,” Now he openly winced, because what he did was rather stupid, “I had to take the unit from the Pokemon Center, so I…” He waved his hand in a self-defeating motion, “ Made her forget. ”

Not strictly true, but the result is the same.

Of course, such an explanation didn’t satisfy the Champion, as he gritted out between his teeth, “And why did you feel the need to do that? ”

“Because otherwise the League would have learned about it,” Red replied candidly, shocking Lance with his frankness, “And had that happened, there’s a high likelihood that she would be right back to where I rescued her from.”

Red chanced a glance towards Clair, only to see her steepling her fingers over her mouth with searching eyes - he didn’t know what to make of that - before turning back to stare at Lance. The Champion was visibly keeping himself from yelling, obviously incensed over Red’s slight to the League.

Red could recall Lance’s devastation upon seeing the League eat itself alive.

There was, in all honesty, a non-zero chance that Lance would decide that whatever justifications Red could give at this point wouldn’t be worth hearing. Red knew that, yet he still found what he did to be the best option presented to him.

It was a cold, heartless thought, but Red knew that, if Lance were to become aggressive, Red could easily subdue - maim, kill… semantics - the man, and Clair if it came to it. It was for two main reasons: their location and Pichu.

The diner was a cramped place, without any easy space for Lance to move if it became a fight (Clair sat on the open end of the seat). Most trainers - Champions included - were not conditioned to fight in such close-quarters.

Oh, most of them could , if push came to shove. Had some random group of grunts tried to attack the Champion here, Lance would probably wipe them all out with relative ease. However, at the moment, Lance was not primed for battle, not in the same way Red was in every waking moment.

His hand still rested on the pokeballs on his belt, hidden beneath the table.

Add to this the tendency for trainers to stay in-place during battle, and one well-aimed Thunderbolt from Pichu could hospitalise the man, if not outright kill him.

The Chariot had taken advantage of this fatal trend, after all.

Red had adapted where others had died.

Perhaps it was wrong for Red to be thinking of such things, especially in regards to someone who he still respected. But he couldn’t help the instinct, always in the back of his mind, to eliminate a threat before it had the chance to become one.

The only thing that separated Red from the Chariot in this regard was that Red kept himself from acting on such impulses.

Of course, neither Lance or Clair knew what Red was thinking behind his blank face. Only Pichu could tell that Red was on a hair-trigger, as his cheeks were popping silently in miniscule sparks, which told Red that all he had to do was point, and Pichu would act.

It was a terrible, beautiful thing what a decade’s worth of loyalty looked like.

Ultimately, Lance once more proved himself worthy of Red’s respect, as he composed himself enough to ask, “Why do you believe the League would allow that?”

Red hummed, considering the Champion’s wording, “I wouldn’t quite say the League would allow it,” Red paused for a moment, debating whether he wanted to take the plunge. After a few moments, Red sighed to himself, muttering, “I’m more worried of certain… parties within the League taking the opportunity to steal back the pokemon.”

Lance breathed in heavily, beginning to massage his forehead as he grit out, “You’re telling me that there’s some sort of… mole within the League.”

It wasn’t a question - Red could tell by the man’s tone - but more of an aggravated confirmation of something he already suspected.

And wasn’t that interesting?

Red kept his tongue, though, as Lance seemed to be coming to terms with Red’s words, and speaking now would only further aggravate the man. Clair, though, didn’t face the same potential consequences as Red, so she added to Lance in a thoughtful tone, “You have ranted about this type of thing, Lance. Gods know I’ve heard of it, ” She muttered in an exacerbated tone, before remembering she had an audience in Red, causing her to clam up with a small blush.

Red ignored the reaction, instead taking note of Clair’s words. He wasn’t aware that Lance had apparently harboured suspicions at this point, especially given that it was still about seven years before the incursions began last time around. Red wondered if, perhaps, this was some sort of change in the timeline.

Of course, there was other possibility that there were simply things behind the scenes that Ash wasn’t ever privy to.

Red’s thoughts paused as Lance looked up with a sigh, bearing a greater resemblance to the Lance of Red’s future-past in how exhausted he looked, “Is it Team Rocket?”

What?

Red blinked, wondering for a moment what Lance meant before connecting the dots, “No…”

Lance now raised an eyebrow, a wary interest now spreading across his face, along with the ever-present suspicion, “Cipher?”

Red didn’t even hear of Cipher until a week ago, with Herren and Elm.

“No,” Red stated once more, leaning back as the soft presence in his mind sharpened in tandem with his own spirit. For a moment, he considered stopping here, keeping what (little) he knew to himself.

Yet… he couldn’t help but recall the talk he had with Salvare and Karen back in Azalea Town, and how much he shared with them, and how much he kept secret.

He told them of his enemy, yes, but he didn’t give them a name . He gave them enough to satisfy them - at least for now - but too little to do anything about it.

It was for their protection, and Red wasn’t sorry that he kept it from them. Karen would’ve probably insisted upon informing the other Aura Guardians had she known - painting a target on her back in the process - and Salvare had a half-chance of trying to fight them in his stead, which would only get him killed.

Red had enough of his friends dying for him.

Yet, with Lance, it was different. Lance was less of a potential friend and more of a potential ally . Unlike either of Red’s friends, he had already seen how Lance would react to the existence and actions of Team Source, and could plan accordingly.

And for all that Lance broke alongside the League…

He remained strong enough to lead them, even after the betrayal.

It had killed him in the end, but that was the case for all of them.

Except for Red, of course…

And unlike everyone else in the League, there was no doubt in Red’s mind that Lance was no part of Team Source. The Emperor’s words may be as true or false as Red could believe, but he knew they didn’t apply to Lance.

Lance held Red’s respect, which was already something rare.

Even rarer, Lance held Red’s trust to do the right thing.

The only question was whether Lance would decide the right thing to do was to take the fight to Team Source.

And right now, doing so would only paint a larger target on them all.

But… with the twining presence within Red’s mind and soul, he had an idea of how to show Lance the need for caution.

Red only hoped that his minimal experience in manipulation would come in handy.

Red breathed out slowly, “The organisation I’m referring to wouldn’t be one that you would recognise,” He tapped slowly on the table, feeling the invisible authority in this conversation shift to him, “And that only makes it more dangerous.”

Now, both of two dragon trainers looked interested - and increasingly wary, in Lance’s case - and Red knew that, from this point on, every word of his would be critical, “...What is the name of this organisation?”

Hook.

Red looked into Lance’s eyes, allowing his own aura to flare ever so slightly for his eyes to glow - thank you, Herren, for the lessons in control - “The name of this organisation is Team Source, and their aim is to harness the source of evolutionary energy.”

It felt almost… relieving to say that, as if a great weight that Red had been carrying for the past three months has suddenly been lifted.

Within his spirit, the presence within it shifts at the name, recognising it, before sliding into something bearing more light.

‘Let there be light.’

And Red silently conveyed his purpose to the small voice in his mind, and received a tug of assent in return.

Clair was blinking rapidly, seemingly processing Red’s words, whereas Lance leaned forward, suspicious still lining his eyes - though there was now an undercurrent of dread - “How come I’ve never heard of this organisation, since it apparently has ties to the League?”

Line.

Red considered his words, though he made sure to convey the gravity of the situation on his face, “Because Team Source is excellent in covering their tracks,” - which made it very difficult for Red to actually find any information on them - “And they are self-sufficient in supplies and members, making it practically impossible to track them through those means.”

Red knew this intimately, given that both he and Lance had tried, and failed, to do so in both timelines.

Lance digested Red’s words with a suspicious glare, looking somewhere between believing this was a hoax, and believing that maybe, just maybe , Red was telling the truth, “...How do I know you’re not just making this all up? Giving me a convoluted excuse for what you did in Goldenrod?”

And Sinker.

“Because the pokemon I saved was the result of one of their experiments,” Red stated, clicking open a pokeball on his belt to reveal Vee, who immediately cradled onto his lap, bearing a mixture of features from Sylveon and Flareon.

Lance reared back with widened eyes, and Clair hissed, which wasn’t exactly the reaction Red was looking for. Yet, for some unknowable reason, Vee seemed to find amusement in it, if the waves of childish smugness radiating from Vee were any indication.

‘Let there be light.’

Clair continued to hiss in an eerie mimickry of a Meowth, and Lance’s hand began to twitch violently on the table as he eyed the small creature in ill-disguised revulsion.

Red couldn’t help but be offended, even if Vee seemed to bask in their distaste.

Red locked eyes with Vee’s for a moment, asking a silent question in his mind. The response he received only added to his bemusement.

‘Prey.’

Finally, after thirty straight seconds of staring - and radiating smugness from Vee - Lance clenched his fist, stating in deadpan, “ I see.”

Red raised an eyebrow, though was cut off from speaking by Clair scoffing derisively, “Oh, brilliant , Lance. Absolutely wonderful that you have a pair of working eyes and see the Naisha in front of us.”

Red narrowed his eyes at the foreign word - which sounded strangely like a slur - and an alien part of his mind roughly translated it to ‘fairy ’, which once more brought Red’s thoughts to the Ruins of Alph, and the influx of knowledge he received from the Unown.

He still didn’t know what to make of the entire second language he was suddenly fluent in.

Red’s attention was brought back to Lance, who spoke urgently to Clair, “But that’s not all it is,” he pointed Clair’s attention to the tufts of fluffy orange fur indicative of Flareon, “It’s a fusion .”

“ She’s not a fusion,” Red corrected, recalling with disgust the file he read on Project: Changeling, “She’s a partial evolution, and can switch between different forms,” He hesitated before looking down at Vee, who was now peering up at him with wide, strangely giddy eyes, “...Do you want to show off?”

Vee chirped in affirmation, sending a warm trickle of affection down their lingering spiritual bond as she closed her eyes, reaching out with Pichu’s aid to shift her fur from soft pink to the spiky yellow of Jolteon.

Red smiled proudly, scritching Vee behind the ear, causing her to coo. While Vee had yet to establish complete control over her form - usually existing in some gestalt state between two or three evolutions - she was much more comfortable in her body, no longer feeling major pains as her limbs shifted and resized to fit different frames.

It wasn’t painless - Red ached at the thought that it might never be - but the worst aspect - the most diabolical part of it - was all but gone.

And that was the psychological toll.

Red had learned, both from the files he read and from his bond with Vee, that her state of mind had a major impact on her level of control over her transformations, and how quick they were.

Team Source had pushed her to evolve as quickly and efficiently as possible, which in turn heightened how painful it was for her, given that her body had less time to safely transition between forms.

Now, despite Red continuing - or starting, in some ways - her exercises in control, Vee could do so at her own pace.

Because after all that she had suffered, Red vowed to never force her to suffer more just to please him.

‘But I would.’

Red jolted, staring down at Vee as she stared back serenely, now in a gestalt form of Umbreon and Espeon.

Red sighed as she blinked glassy red eyes. For one as young as her, Vee had the worrying tendency to act far more mature than a child should.

And, like Red and the rest of his team, she had the worrying tendency to be self-sacrificial in nature.

Perhaps that was what made her fit so well with them…

Red blinked back to the present as Lance began to mutter furiously - meanwhile, Clair looked simultaneously awed and discomfited by Red - “And you have a psychic link with it. Of course you do. Somehow, you’ve found an Eevee that can switch between six different evolutions, one of them being Naisha , which I didn’t even know existed ,” Lance leaned back with a large sigh, covering his face with his hands, “Oh, Arachay… ”

“Lance!” Clair slapped Lance’s shoulder, her face beginning to burn up even further - granted, Red translated Lance’s plea as ‘Fuck me’, so he could almost understand - before turning to Red, “How can you… stand it?”

Red raised an eyebrow, finding the question surprisingly rude - though he felt the resurgence of Vee’s smug amusement, so he wondered which of them was being the rude one - and asked, “What, exactly, is so wrong with her?”

Clair widened her eyes, seemingly registering his rising annoyance and regretting(?) it, but was cut off by Lance before she could speak, “Your… rescue is a Naisha - a Faerie.” Lance waved his hand as if that explained everything.

It… well, actually… Red thought back on it, and… yeah , Dragons were weak to Fairies.

Cripplingly so, now that Red recalled.

There hadn’t ever been much information about it, given how recent a discovery Fairy pokemon were by the onset of the Storm. Ash hadn’t ever thought much on it aside from finding the whole thing cool - like all pokemon were - before ignoring it during his own pursuits in Kalos.

By the time Ash came to care about such things in a more practical sense, it didn’t matter as much, because the Chariot only had the one Togekiss, and neither of them fought with Dragon pokemon.

So, in all honesty, Red forgot Fairies’ immunity to Dragons. It hadn’t been important during the Storm, and it hadn’t come up thus far in the past three months Red had spent in the past.

Though… now that he thought of it, the Dragonite at the Goldenrod base did fall to Vee’s outburst as Sylveon.

Red shook his head, petting Vee lightly on her head as he looked at Lance, “I didn’t know you would have such a strong reaction,” He bowed his head - best to appear polite, if nothing else - “You have my apologies.”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” Clair asked, her eyes wide and genuine, “I thought you of all people would’ve known, what with you being a dragon trainer and all.”

Red blinked, “Dragon trainer?” He gave a thoughtful frown as he faced her, “Do you mean Charmander?”

“We’ll get back to that,” Lance waved Clair down, preventing her from responding - she pouted in response - “You claim to have saved this… former experiment from this Team Source?”

“Yes,” Red sighed, feeling Vee’s emotions spike at the name - he tried to project calm; it seemed to be working as well as he could hope - “I located the underground lab in Goldenrod where they were holding her. She was very nearly dead when I got her out.”

Clair turned concerned eyes to Vee, seemingly much more at ease now that she rested in her gestalt Umbreon-Espeon form, whereas Lance ploughed on with a scowl, “And the base itself?”

Red considered his words, “Destroyed.” He purposely avoided any mention of the scores of corpses he left before the base was demolished, “There was an earthquake that day.”

“I heard,” Lance responded grimly, tapping a finger on the table, “...Did you have anything to do with that?”

“It was pure happenstance,” Red replied, sticking with the truth, from a certain point of view, “My goal was to rescue Vee, nothing more.”

Again, another technical truth.

He didn’t intend on raising literal hell down there.

It just… happened.

“Hmm,” Lance leaned back with crossed arms, silently analysing Red with narrowed eyes. Clair seemed torn between glancing at Vee curiously and staring at Red with something approaching awe.

It made him somewhat uncomfortable, in all honesty.

“If I were to go to this base,” Lance began suddenly, “Would I find any evidence to support your claim of Team Source’s existence?”

Red considered for a moment, before responding with a sure, “No. By now, I imagine they would have salvaged anything that would seem out of place in the wreckage.”

Lance groaned, kneading his brow, “You frustrate me, Red. You really, really do.”

That wasn’t something that Red expected to come out of Lance’s mouth, but he had resigned himself to any surprises at this point, so he only responded in a dry tone, “How so?”

Lance threw a mild glare at him before sighing, “You have made a major claim about the League, and thus far you have been unable to give me definitive evidence to this claim.”

Red nodded slowly, his face slowly turning grim as his hand froze on Vee’s head - Pichu’s ear twitched in acknowledgement - his eyes sparking in malevolent crimson, “... So you don’t believe me? ”

“That’s the problem,” Lance muttered, crossing his arms, “I do , at least with the existence of this Team Source. I’m just sceptical as to whether your claim about the League is justified. Not to mention what you did to Nurse Joy…”

Red hummed, eyes still glowing, but remaining measured. He moved his hand to Vee’s cheek, petting it as he thought back to the Emperor’s words, and the potential effect they could have if shared with the Champion..

“You are aware that we control the League.”

…No, Red wouldn’t reveal that information to Lance.

Not… yet.

Because… well, in all honesty, Red had achieved what he wanted. Lance was now made aware of Team Source’s existence - seven years early - but wasn’t pushed to the point of making a major enemy of them.

Because for all that Team Source was dangerous, they didn’t become a major threat until Ash was seventeen.

Granted, that didn’t apply to Red - he imagined he was at the top of Team Source’s shit list after Goldenrod - but for everyone else, their relative anonymity protected them.

So… Red had somehow done it. He had convinced Lance of Team Source’s existence while both preventing Lance from doing something stupid and preventing himself from becoming an enemy of the Champion.

Red could accept that.

“I suppose… we will have to differ in our thoughts on the matter,” Red breathed, almost sagging in relief that the interrogation was nearly over.

Lance scowled at him for several moments before breathing out, “Fine… However, there will not be another instance of manipulating another innocent’s aura, do you understand? ”

Red… Well, Red couldn’t honestly promise that it wouldn’t happen again, and Red thought that, at the least, it was better to be confused than dead.

Given that Red remained silent at Lance’s demand, the Champion was ready to snap, only for Clair to give an annoyed huff, “Oh, lay off, Lance! Nurse Joy wasn’t hurt, and he did it for a good reason!”

Lance turned his glare on her, to which she responded with a glare of her own, “You wouldn’t be saying that if you didn’t have that little Tiara going on.”

Red blinked - Tiara registered as ‘childish love’ within his second language - and watched as Clair blushed further, punching Lance’s arm with enough force to make the Champion wince, “ You take that back! ”

“Listen,” Red raised his voice, stopping the two from fighting further - though neither of them seemed to know that he understood their other tongue, which was potentially useful - “Next time something like this happens, I will refrain from involving any innocents.”

Granted, Red had no plans of something like Vee’s situation happening again.

Lance narrowed his eyes in response, “If you find another experiment like you did in Goldenrod, then you will go to the League-”

“ No, ” Red stated, simply and firmly, “I will not be doing that.”

Lance’s face twitched, though he kept his face in a neutral scowl, “...Fine. You will go to me , then.”

Both Red and Clair blinked at that, surprised at Lance’s compromise. Red leaned back with a thoughtful expression on his face - this… could be surprisingly useful - “That seems… unusual. ”

Lance seemed to hold in an incredulous snort, as if appalled by the entire situation, “You are an unusual individual,” He straightened, face becoming serious as he asked, “Do you accept my offer?”

In exchange for not being hunted down by the League? Yes, Red accepts.

“Yes,” Red replied in slight deadpan. He couldn’t help but add, “I’d be an idiot not to.”

For the first time in the past hour, Lance smiled . It was short-lived and woefully self-deprecating, but it was more than Red had ever seen Lance doing in the either timeline thus far.

Clair still seemed surprised at Lance’s offer, though, and asked with a pointed look, “So… we’re just going to ignore the Rites of Transgression?”

Red furrowed his brows silently as Lance sighed once more - he had no idea what these rites were - keeping silent as Lance replied in a tired tone, “We don’t know for certain that he’s the one, and even then, it isn’t so much aid , but more-so… communication. ”

Red began to tap his finger on the table as Clair crossed her arms in annoyance, “Oh, so now you’re okay with stretching things. I happen to recall a time, not so long ago, where you were all ‘ he’s dangerous, Clair, remain wary, Clair’ .”

“I haven’t changed on that front, Clair,” Lance replied in steady seriousness, “He admitted to what he did, and with everything else we know, he can prove to be very dangerous.”

Red raised an eyebrow at Lance’s words, though he agreed that he was dangerous. It wasn’t him bragging; it was simple fact. Still, Red decided to butt in before Clair could retort, asking with an arched eyebrow, “If it’s not too much to ask, may I know what it is you’re both talking about, since it seems to revolve around me?”

Clair meeped , leaning away from them as she seemingly remembered Red being there. Lance drew in a tired breath before facing Red, asking in a blunt tone, “Does the term Arkeu-Kin mean anything to you?”

On reflex, Red replied, “No.” The word was vaguely familiar, yes, but in a more tangential way than anything concrete.

It did sound somewhat like ‘Arceus’.

It wasn’t until a moment later that the word registered in his mind as one belonging to the alien language stuck in his head. By the time its rough translation went through Red’s mind, Lance asked another question, “What about ‘ The Chosen One ’?”

It was somewhat ironic that, in the moment of the term leaving Lance’s tongue, Red’s mind fully processed what Arkeu-Kin meant, and its implications.

Arkeu-Kin.

Chosen of the Creator.

‘The Chosen One’.

Had Lance refrained from asking the second question, Red may have been able to smother his reaction, to convince himself that it was nothing more than some terrible coincidence.

But he couldn’t, not after the memories the term brought festering into his mind.

The storm of fire, ice, and lightning. The war of space and time. The rampage of the creator. Fields of stars cascading into supernovas as twin suns of crimson bore upon him.

“GO FORTH, MY CHARIOT.”

“So you do recognise the term,” Lance’s voice brought Red back from his spiral, though he wasn’t necessarily happy upon seeing Lance’s eyes narrowed into slits, “What do you know of it?”

Red shakes his head with a small growl, mercilessly pushing away the damned voice in his head, “ We’re done here .” Red begins to stand, cradling Vee in his arms as Pichu hops from the table onto his shoulder, “ I need to get back soon. ”

Lance stood up as well, seemingly intent of pressing further only to be stopped by Clair, who glared him into submission. Lance scowled back, but restrained his voice to something approaching calm, “...Fine, but we will be continuing our discussion later.”

Red almost snorted. Discussion? No, that was still an interrogation; Red was a fool to think otherwise . He halted before leaving the table, turning back to pin the other two with a stare, “Nothing - and I mean nothing - of what we’ve spoken about can be shared with anyone else.”

Lance seemed strangled in his response, allowing Clair to supersede him, “Okay, we promise.”

Red nodded gratefully to her, but still eyed Lance, who silently responded with a disgruntled glare, “Whether you like or trust me doesn’t matter. This cannot be shared.”

Lance began to audibly grind his teeth, breathing out of his nose as a dragon would when annoyed, “You ask for a lot, Satoshi .”

“I know,” Red acknowledged, tilting his head slightly, “But I’ve already given word to reach out to you in the future, haven’t I?”

Lance growled, but eventually relented, “...I’ll keep your secrets, Satoshi, but I won’t give you aid.” Lance slowly lowered himself back onto his seat, visibly deflating while doing so, “...You’re free to go, Satoshi.”

Red nodded silently, his eyes still softly blazing, but slowly calming down. Unfortunately - in Red’s mind - he was stopped by Clair before he could leave, as she rose from her seat with a slightly hesitant, “Wait! I can… help walk you back to your friends.”

Both Red and Lance looked at her oddly - though Lance’s expression was more exacerbated than anything else - prompting her to blush from the former and glare at the latter, “What? It’s allowed! You said yourself we don’t know for certain if he’s Arkeu-Kin .”

There was that word again.

“Fucking Ara ,” Lance swore, rubbing his face in exhaustion, “Fine! Go .”

Red exchanged a glance and a shrug with Pichu, not really seeing the necessity of an escort, but feeling to tired to refute it.

It was worth at this point.

Besides, as Red and Clair began to walk back towards the central part of the Athlete’s Village, he supposed Clair was better company than Lance, given that she was far less confrontational than the Champion.

She seemed far more awkward, though.

She remained silent as they walked back towards where the others were, opening her mouth a few times before closing it with a small blush.

Red couldn’t help but be a little confused about the whole thing. Sure, the blushing fit with the woman’s actions back at the diner, but it didn’t stop her from speaking freely. It wasn’t as if Red was coming off as unforthcoming - at least, he thought he wasn’t - so he didn’t know what was stopping her from speaking, given that she obviously wanted to.

Though, Red wasn’t one to complain about the silence.

For some reason, Red felt small trickles of amusement radiating off of Vee, who lay within his arms, staring at the woman. Honestly, Red almost thought the small devil relished in her discomfort. When he tried to pry for a reason through their bond, all he received from Vee’s end was an oddly sharp warmth along his skin.

It was a vaguely familiar feeling; one he hadn’t felt in over three years.

Red didn’t have much time to ponder the feeling before Clair mustered up enough courage to ask, “How do you have a draconic Charmander?”

A draconic Charmander? Red frowned, turning to her, “...What do you mean by that?”

Clair reddened slightly, though she still responded, “Well… Your Charmander, he has black scales, and a blue flame…” She trailed off, beginning to look somewhat unsure, “Those are signs of a draconic variant.”

Red raised an interested eyebrow, “Really?” He turned his mind back to Charmander’s new form, and the new difficulties they were facing in training that they’d never encountered before - did have to do with Charmander being some sort of draconic variant? - “I didn’t know.”

Clair perked up, her eyes shining with surprise and intrigue, “ Really? That’s… unbelievably lucky, finding the first draconic Charmander in a century!”

Red hummed, filing away the new - and troubling - information he had on Charmander’s apparent transformation, “I wasn’t aware it was so special.”

Clair seemed to deflate, “...That’s not exactly surprising, now that I think about it,” She looked back up at him with hopeful eyes, “Can I see him?”

“Charmander?” Red asked, receiving a nod in response.

“If it’s not too much to ask, I would… really appreciate it,” Clair spoke, her eyes turning solemn, “I didn’t really understand the importance of it during our Gym battle, but since then…” She winced, seemingly recalling something that haunted her, “I’ve come to learn how big this is.”

“Okay…” Red nodded to himself, stopping himself from asking what she meant by that. He turned slightly towards the edge of the road, “There’s a little bit of time for you to meet him, I suppose,” He unclipped Charmander’s pokeball from his belt, “Though I have a few questions to ask you.”

“Alright,” Clair nodded easily, her blush receding in the face of her excitement. Her face quickly lit up in awe as Red released Charmander, who appeared crouched beside him, eyeing the woman distrustfully with triangular slits.

Clair simply gazed at Charmander for several moments before reaching out a hesitant hand, palm facing up. Charmander turned his glare towards her hand, eyeing it for a few seconds before turning his tail to the other side, padding silently towards her.

Red watched on with a thoughtful expression on his face as Charmander stepped forward, sniffing Clair’s hand warily. The small beast huffed, producing violet sparks that snapped away into the air, before directing his gaze to Clair once more, to which she responded in kind.

Red noticed her eyes narrowing into slits of their own.

Finally, after an intense stare with Charmander, Clair rose from her crouch, a mixed expression on her face, “It’s a dragon. A true draconic Charmander…”

Red nodded thoughtfully, recalling Charmander with a whispered word of thanks, before turning back to Clair, who seemed to be battling between feeling giddy and feeling disturbed , “...Is there something wrong?”

Clair looked back to him, lips pursing in thought, “...I… I think your Charmander may be Mad .”

Red raised a bemused eyebrow, “He seemed more distrustful than angry, to me at least.”

Clair shook her head, “No, you misunderstand,” Her eyes turned back to him, looking almost… enthralled , “There’s… an affliction - of sorts - that dragons can fall prey to…” Her eyes flick past Red’s shoulder, lost in thought, “It’s called the Madness .”

Red frowned - that sounded ominous - and began to walk slowly, asking, “I take it that’s a bad thing?”

Clair began to follow, her face twisting in hesitation, “I… I’m not the best person to answer that question…”

“Okay…” Red allowed the subject to drop, seeing her distress, instead asking, “Will Charmander being draconic change his abilities?”

Perhaps, for example, by reducing the reserves of his flame?

“What? Oh ,” Clair nodded, snapping herself out of her funk, “I suppose there would be a few key differences between your Charmander and the usual variant.”

“Like what?” Red asked.

“The quality of their fire, for one,” Clair answered, eyes looking to the side in thought, “Dragon’s fire tends to be more varied in size and effect when compared to regular fire, which only burns. Dragons also usually have the capability of producing other forms of energy in their breath, such as electricity or ice.”

“Like Dragon Breath ,” Red realised aloud, recalling the unique violet sparks that escaped Charmander’s maw when he used the move.

“Yeah, like Dragon Breath ! Though, that mainly uses Dragon-type energy, which is its own unique thing,” Clair noted, becoming far more animated as their discussion revolved more and more around her favourite pokemon.

Red couldn’t help but recall vague memories of Iris waxing poetic about all things dragon.

Still, Red wasn’t necessarily displeased with the turn in conversation. Clair knew a lot about dragons, after all, which could only help in Charmander’s training. This made it something of a surprise when they were cut off in their increasingly animated discussion by a loud cough.

Red blinked, only to see that they had returned to Karen and Salvare, and had entirely missed the two of them directly in front of them. Karen crossed her arms with a small smirk, raising an eyebrow, “I see you’re having fun, Red.”

Clair immediately straightened, a blush returning to her face, “...I gotta go,” and fled before anyone could say anything.

Red was visibly bewildered, and Karen snorted, “Goodness, Red, how badly did you scare her for her to run off so quickly?”

“No more than the usual amount,” Red remarked dryly, shifting Vee from one arm to the other - his right arm was getting numb - “Anything happen while I was gone?”

Karen shrugged, sharing a glance with Salvare that had him crossing his arms and her grinning, “I showed Salvare some more of the online discussion about you, and him as well.”

Her grin widened as Salvare glared at her, muttering lowly, “I don’t like so many people knowing me.”

Red moved to sarcastically pat Salvare on the shoulder, “Rejoice, Salvare. At least you don’t have the Champion haring after you.”

“Oh yeah,” Karen’s grin sharpened, her eyes narrowing, “What was that about?”

“Lance had some questions; I answered them,” Red waved his hand with a grunt, “Can we go now? I’m fuckin’ exhausted. ”

“Wow, language,” Karen snorted, walking towards the direction of the setting sun, “Picking up after me, Red? I’m touched.”

Red groaned, prompting Karen to bark a harsh laugh. Salvare returned Red’s previous gesture with a pat of the back of his own.

Salvare merely smiled serenely when Red glared at him.

Red turned back to Karen as she added, in an offhand tone, “Oh, by the way, Herren had some sort of family emergency and had to leave.”

Red narrowed his eyes, just now remembering Herren’s former presence - the man had an eerie ability to slip from one’s thoughts when they weren’t directly next to him - “ Family emergency? ”

“That’s what he said,” Karen waved off Red’s suspicious with a negligent wave of the hand, “I can practically taste your paranoia, Red. Trust me, he’s harmless.”

Red pinched his lips - he operated on the belief that no-one was ‘harmless’ - “How do you know?”

Karen turned back with a mildly annoyed expression, “I’ve known him since I was eight . He’s one of my biggest teachers in aura, just behind Agatha.”

Red hummed in interest, with Salvare piping up in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Karen replied easily, leading them towards the edge of the Athlete’s Village, “Honestly, you two couldn’t have asked for a better aura teacher - no offence, Red . Herren’s a savante; hell, he’s better than the Elders.”

Red blinked - that was quite a strong claim, given how high of a pedestal Karen placed her Elders upon - “He didn’t strike me as such.”

Karen scoffed, “He’s too modest, really,” she paused, before amending, “He’s modest with everyone except my mentor. He likes picking fights with her,” She shuddered, “ God only knows why. ”

Red hummed in thought, carefully filing the new information of the man in the back of his mind, “I suppose I’ll have to see for myself when I see him next.”

“Oh, that’ll be something to see,” Karen snorted, before turning back to Red, “You know, you actually reminded me of him back when you were waxing poetic about aura, ‘limiting oneself to from wider mystery’ and all that.”

Red hummed, but didn’t respond one way or the other.

He was tired.

Vee snuggled further into Red’s arm, fur darkening as the now-singular Umbreon fell asleep. Salvare and Karen both seemed to notice her presence for the first time - Vee was rather small - with the former watching her with a complicated expression on his face, whereas the remarked, “I’m surprised you’re carrying her out in the open.”

“She likes it,” Red replied simply, stifling a yawn. He took the moment to examine his surroundings, frowning as he asked, “Where are we going?”

“I got hotel rooms for y’all,” Karen answered with an easy shrug, prompting a raised eyebrow from Red and wide eyes from Salvare, “What? I can understand bunking at Pokemon Centers while on the go, but we’re gonna be here for a while. Might as well be comfortable while doing so.”

“...Thank you,” Red breathed, surprising all three of them with how genuine his words were.

He didn’t regret it, though.

It was a… surprisingly kind gesture from her, especially given their previously tumultuous relationship.

Karen narrowed her eyes at Red, though her lips twitched upwards, “You know, Red, you’ve been awfully nice, today, too nice …” She raised her head in faux-snobbishness, “You must want something from me, Red.”

Red looked at her with as deadpan an expression as he could muster, “And I seem to have gotten it. A nice bed to sleep on, thank you ,” His words ended off in a challenging tone.

But in all seriousness, he was ready to crash and sleep for twelve hours.

Keeping control over what he revealed and kept secret from Lance had taken a toll on him.

Karen held his gaze for a few moments before breaking it off with a small, fleeting smile. They walked in comfortable silence for the next few minutes, nearing a large building that Red belatedly realised was the hotel Karen was referring to.

It looked surprisingly nice.

“So… Opening Ceremony is in two days,” Karen piped up, eyeing the two of them, “You up for a day of training tomorrow?”

Salvare nodded silently, staring up at the towering hotel in a vague sense of melancholy. Red blinked once he realised Karen’s expectant gaze was upon him, “That works with me, though I might be a bit late.”

“Why’s that?” Karen asked, leading them up the steps towards the hotel.

Red hummed to himself, his eyes drawing towards the lingering form of Mount Silver to the west, “I have somewhere to be first…”

Somewhere to pay respects.

…

Shrine of the Sacred Flame, Outskirts of Silver Town, December 7th, 1997

Red sat calmly, cross-legged on a stone facing the sunrise.

The air was heavy, laden with specks of ice and snow that shimmered in the air, never rising or falling.

The stone itself was cold enough to burn to the touch, yet Red stay still, breathing out measured puffs of chilled air. After all, the cold almost calmed Red, straightened him out in a way that he found rarer and rarer.

Because even in the freezing temperatures of early morning, Red felt a fire kindle within his heart.

Pichu, while bundled up within Red’s shirt, didn’t shy away from the cold either. While he had neither the heat from Charizard nor the resistance of Greninja, Pikachu had become resistant to the cold in his own manner.

They all had.

Of the many ill-effects of the Source Storm, one of the smallest - yet most disheartening - was the disappearance of the sun.

The sun didn’t actually leave , of course, but its warmth was smothered by layers and layers of stormclouds that circled the globe. It was only within the eye of the Storm itself that they had seen the clear sky.

It had been night then, so the sun’s light evaded them still.

It had almost been akin to a punch in the gut when the four of them had seen the sun for the first time in three years. For the first few days after coming back, even daring to angle their heads upwards threatened to blind them.

Let there be light.

They had adapted - they always do - and had helped Vee with the same transition, back when she first saw the sun after months in darkness.

Since his return, with few exceptions, Red had always been awake in time to see the sunrise.

Ash had taken it for granted - like so many things - and had usually slept in until the late hours of the morning, wasting precious hours of the sun’s light.

Red did not, nor would he do so ever again.

It was only one of the many things that separated him from the boy.

The thought of Ash… his past self , drew his eyes away from the sun, and to the withered feather in his hands.

Red wracked his memory. Ash… should be somewhere between his 5th and 6th Gym badges, by this point. If Red recalled correctly, now would be around the time that Ash would release Butterfree.

Ash would be sad - Red remembered it clinically - but he would be glad for Butterfree. Ash would continue his journey, his quest to become a Pokemon Master, like he always did.

Ash would continue new friends and see new places. Ash would continue to make mistakes - as any child does - and would learn from them.

Ash would remain naive of the world around him, of the movements of regions and groups and legends. Ash would remain oblivious of the trials laid before him, both by man and by divine.

Yet… Ash wouldn’t be defined by it. Ash would continue his journey, continue making friends, continue exploring regions, continue towards his self-proclaimed goal of Mastery.

Red… Red couldn’t say the same.

Red stood, clenching the feather within his fist as he began to descend towards the centre of the shrine.

Despite the cold, a tree burned eternally at the centre of the ancient structure, casting golden flames into the air which became nothing more than whispers into the wind.

It was a holy place, touched by the divine blessing of the legends. The people of Silver Town - though few in number - would come to give gifts and praise to their Bird of Rainbow Wings.

Red wasn’t here for Ho-Oh, though - the mere thought of seeing the being shook him - but he was here to speak to another legend - another god - that had spoken to him before.

“ Do you hear me, Arceus? ” Red asked in a mild tone, his eyes flashing crimson, “ I have listened to your call, Arceus. Now I ask that you listen to mine. ”

Red waited, casting glowing eyes over the flaming tree towards the sun, only just cresting the horizon.

He remained silent, watching neutrally as the clouds above shifted slowly, forming a spiked halo above the sun, cast into golden light by the sun’s rays.

The sun flashed crimson, darkening the world at its edges, before once more shining in its golden hue.

That single moment was enough for Red, though, and he knew that the Creator was now listening.

Red smothered the instinctual dread that settled into his gut.

Red straightened, “ You brought me back. After three years of hell, ending in death, you brought me back, ” Red’s jaw locked as his eyes flashed, “ Why? ”

“Why did you bring me back? To prevent the Storm from coming? ” Red clenched his fist, breathing heavily, “ If that’s the case, why not do it yourself? You had the power to pluck me out of time, after all. ”

Shadows began to creep into Red’s vision, yet he was unrelenting, taking a step forward, “ Why did it have to be after my death that I was brought back? Why did you wait while I suffered for three years? ”

Red took another step forward, and the flames upon the tree flared, whether by his own will or that of the Creator, he didn’t know or care as he screamed to the crimson sun, “ Why did you have to take me back at all?! I accepted my death; I was willing - no - I was happy to die! ”

The ground shook at Red’s declaration, and for a single moment, his eyes were void, bearing pinpricks of hateful crimson, “ ...I was happy to die… ” Red stood against the light of the sun - overwhelming - before collapsing into an exhausted kneel, “ I don’t know what to do… ” His eyes dimmed, though the shadows stretched around his body, “I know what I was brought here to do, but I don’t know how to do it. ” Red turned pleading eyes upwards, “I’m lost… I need a sign. ”

His plea was met with fire, as the embers of the Sacred Flame spiralled around the tree, burning the tips of its branches into a cloud of ash, billowing into the sky.

And as the ashes rose, they broke apart, scattering into the wind in whispered words, whispered warnings, whispered admonition, whispered taunting, before breaking away into nothing.

And through the winds, Red heard the whispers of the Creator.

BY THE TURN OF THE CLOCK, YOU SHALL KNOW YOUR DESTINY

And as Red watched the scattered ashes fly away, something within him snapped.

The last remnant of the ashes of his soul scattered into oblivion.

And Red kneeled in silence, eyes no longer bored in shadow, no longer blazed in light. His body remained unmoving, and his arms were limp.

Finally, in the moment that the last of the scattered ashes blew away into dust, Red rose to his feet, and gazed towards the sun in an empty expression, “ ...So be it. ”

Red turned, and with him, the clouds parted, and the sun became ever-so-slightly brighter, yet darker.

As Red began to walk away from the shrine, Pichu wriggled out of his shirt, batting Red’s cheek in concern. Red batted the mouse’s paws away, “Not now, Pikachu.” Red’s eyes remained unfocused as he hiked towards the base of Mount Silver, their crimson hue remaining dull.

It isn’t for several minutes of walking before feeling returns to Red’s arms and chest, and suddenly his breathing sounds far too heavy - far too enraged - for him to continue, so Red stops underneath a pine tree, hiding in the shade for the first time in three months.

Red breathes , keeping his eyes towards the mountain ahead, the mountain of his death and second life.

For a brief moment, he could see the Storm once more.

Red shook his head, closing his eyes as a headache pounded between his ears. He had thought he was free from it . He scowled at nothing, fighting off the headache with gritted teeth so that he could actually think.

The headache lessened, though it still remained. Red accepted it as just another one of the demons he would have to carry with him. There were never enough of those, in his experience.

As Red’s thoughts began to sharpen from their temporary haziness, his eyes began to drift up towards a small clearing of trees half a kilometre away.

Upon seeing it, a vague sensation of grief and guilt settled into Red’s stomach, but he was too numb to feel it at the moment.

He released Charmander and Frogadier, saying nothing to their concerned glances in his direction. He was fine; he was always fine. The four of them trekked up to the clearing with the sun at their back, all knowing where it was that they were heading.

They tread lightly, for it was hallowed ground.

Red could remember the day clearly - clearer than any memory from before the Storm - even after three long years. He had laid to rest the first of the many that would die in his place.

He could see their gravestones even now, though neither those or those they honoured rested here now…

They were all alive now… living lives without him in them.

…It was better that way.

But even if they lived today, Red had grieved them, honoured them. He had longed to be reunited with them upon death, even now after being cheated with life.

So it was only for a moment that Red stood in the empty clearing before turning to his pokemon. It was the product of three years of bearing the Storm’s wrath that they understood, and began to move as one.

Frogadier separated stones from the mountainside, slashing with pressurised jets of water until they were smooth to the touch. Pichu blasted the stones with electricity, making sure they remained durable, and wouldn’t break, even when the day came that Red was laid to rest himself. Charmander slashed letters into the stone with blazing claws, spelling out the names of the fallen.

Red marked five spots along the grass of the clearing, remembering in perfect detail the exact locations that the headstones had been placed in his own world.

And once they placed the gravestones along the clearing, they stood side by side, solemnly gazing upon the graveyard of their making.

It was one of far too many in their old world.

“Here lied Steven Stone, Champion of Hoenn” Red spoke softly, raising a palm to the first grave, “He fought bravely and defended those who were defenceless. He died with honour.”

Frogadier cast a small wave of water onto the gravestone, marking the fallen as honourable in life and death.

It was a tradition of the Greninja that seemed fitting to adopt.

Red moved to the next stone, face carefully set, “Here lied Jessie, of Team Rocket. She lived a troubled life, but chose to do good at the time of calling. She died with honour.”

Frogadier marked her grave with water, and Red moved to the next, voice hitching slightly as he spoke, “Here lied Bonnie Citron, of Lumiose. She was kind and compassionate, and had a bright future. She died too young,” Red blinked away the beginning of tears, “She died with honour.”

Frogadier began to shake - in fury, in agony, they all saw, and understood - but marked the grave all the same. Red moved onto the next, “Here lied Clemont Citron, of Lumiose. He worked with passion, and was on his way to changing the world. He did what he could to protect his sister, even in death,” Red breathed in and out, “He died with honour.”

Frogadier marked the grave, pads clenching as he did so, before moving the last. Red closed his eyes, and breathed out slowly, “Here lied Serena Paschall, of Vaniville,” Red hesitated, “She was a great friend, and a better person than I,” Red straightened, his eyes remaining stubbornly dry, “She was the best of us, and she died with honour.”

Frogadier shuddered as he marked the grave, nearly collapsing to Red’s side as they stood over the graves.

Though the people they honoured lived on, kilometres away from them, Red couldn’t separate their faces from those who had died.

Those who had died for him.

And for the first time that hour - for the first time after the answer to his plea - Red’s crimson eyes flickered.

Whether or not the Creator deemed to speak to him, to share its plans with him…

Red wouldn’t let the Storm come to pass once more.

Whether in Destruction or Creation…

Red didn’t care which.

…

Silver Stadium, Silver Town, December 8th, 1997

“Huh… There are a lot more people here this year.”

Red nodded absently to Karen’s words, not having anything to say one way or the other. The only Silver Conference he had for reference was a year from now. Meanwhile, Salvare, who sat on Red’s other side, turned to Karen raised eyebrow, “You think?”

The two began bickering across from Red, which would have annoyed Red a month ago, but now it largely went in one ear and out the other. Instead of paying any mind to them, Red cast his eyes throughout the stadium - which was rather packed - idly cataloguing the faces of the crowd.

A part of him was scanning for Paul’s face within the crowd; he didn’t see it.

He did quickly find something else of note, though. Almost directly across the stadium was some sort of VIP section, filled with League donors, different members of the World League, Gym Leaders, and members of the Elite Four.

Red first recognised Lance and Clair among them - the latter had been looking in his direction as well, before turning away when they locked eyes - before recognising Pryce, Morty, Jasmine, Whitney, and Falkner.

It was actually a pretty good showing for the Johto Gym Leaders, at least in Red’s opinion. Granted, Ash hadn’t ever paid much attention to League members outside of Champions, so he may have missed their presence last time around.

Further investigation revealed what seemed to be the Four Heavenly Kings, sitting together. Red only recognised three of them, that being Agatha, Lorelei, and Bruno, whereas the last seemed to be some sort of Psychic specialist from Red’s reckoning.

Outside of them, there weren’t many faces that he recognised from Kanto - much to his hidden relief - outside of Blaine and…

Giovanni…

Red narrowed his eyes at the man, silently chiding himself for forgetting about him.

His focus had almost entirely been on Team Source.

He needed to keep in mind that all the other evil Teams were still in operation.

Red blinked, thoughts coming to a halt. Giovanni, Maxie, Archie, Cyrus, Ghetsis, Lysandre…

They were all at large.

Red closed his eyes, reaching for whatever fledgeling control over his emotions that he had, before opening them once more.

One step at a time, Red.

One step at a time.

Suddenly, the lights across the stadium were cut off, and for one, wild moment, Red almost thought that this was the beginning of some sort of attack.

His hand unclipped Frogadier’s pokeball just as a spotlight turned on, pointing to the centre of the stadium.

There lay an unlit beacon, filled with kindling.

Karen silently tugged Red back down onto his seat - he was standing? - with a look of grim sympathy. Red blinked at her, beginning to realise that this wasn’t an attack, when a voice began to speak over the stadium’s speakers.

“ Two thousand years ago, a town was founded at the base of Mount Silver, and was named after the mountain. The town was built between the lands of an ancient kingdom and its colonies, and became a frontier for their growing conflict. War broke out, and the land was ravaged into nothing more than ruin, destroying the lives of both pokemon and man.”

A flicker of flame drew Red’s - and everyone else’s - eyes to the stadium’s entrance, where several people carried a torch bearing a great and terrible flame.

“ When all was thought to be lost, the Bird of Rainbow Wings passed by, and weeped at the destruction. In its grief, it blasted forth a Sacred Flame, and burned life back into the land. From where earth had turned to ash, trees sprouted and restored the land’s beauty. As the land was restored, and its people returned, the Sacred Flame engulfed a single tree at the base of the mountain, burning for eternity as a reminder of the destruction of war, and the beauty of rebirth.”

The people upon the stadium’s platform then lowered the flaming torch onto the beacon, bursting upwards into golden flames that seemed to sing .

The crowd began to buzz, and Red felt the hairs on his arms begin to rise.

The legends’ power lay within that flame.

Red knew better than anyone else the power that lay within.

It was with that knowledge - the vision of such terrible, beautiful power - that Red stay seated as everyone else began to rise in applause.

Red knew better than anyone the terrible blessing - the beautiful curse - of the legends’ might.

The announcer’s voice raised, and the speakers blasted out, “ I declare that the 1997 Silver Conference has begun! ”

…

Logged in as: The_Emperor

Opening Filename: Candidates_12_08_97

Name: Karen Mela

Age: 19

Hometown: [NONE] (Adopted - Agatha Kikuko; Hometown: Lavender Town, Kanto)

Sponsor: Agatha Kikuko [Heavenly King of Indigo][Elder Aura Guardian of Indigo]

Current Pokemon: Umbreon [Male][Starter], Honchkrow [Female][Recently Evolved], Vileplume [Female], Houndour [Female]

Current Location: Silver Town (Conference)

Psych Profile: Emotional; Trained to temper emotion, but struggles; Quick to Anger; Passionate; Ends justify the Means; Few Friends; Strong connection with pokemon

Evaluation: Karen has quickly risen in prominence over the past year, becoming a likely candidate for the victor of the 1997 Silver Conference. She is likely being groomed as Agatha’s successor as Heavenly King of Indigo, which may make any attempt to reach out to her difficult. She shows no particular allegiance to the League, instead reserving it for the Indigo Aura Guardians. Given that she has been raised since her early teens by an Elder Aura Guardian, she will most likely be unable to be converted to our cause. She has shown high levels of ability in battle, along with aura. I do not advise any action against her, unless she directly provokes us.

Misc Notes: Karen has travelled with Red Satoshi from the end of September to the end of November. In that time, she has shown an increase in battle and aura ability. Additionally, Karen is primarily a user of Dark type aura and pokemon, and she likely holds Fire as a secondary aura typing. Though Karen most likely would be unfit for this organisation, she remains a unique source of intel, given that the Chariot has established limited communications with her.

Name: Salvare Razzo [Fake Name]

Age: 17

Hometown: [NONE] (Fake Hometown: Independent Confederation of Orre)

Sponsor: Professor Henry Elm [Johto Regional Professor]

Current Pokemon: Feraligatr [Male][Starter], Magneton, Golbat [Male], Haunter [Male], Cacnea [Male], Absol [Female]

Current Location: Silver Town (Conference)

Psych Profile: Abandonment Issues; Highly attached to pokemon and mentor; Appears kind, but carries high capacity for cruelty; Hates pokemon abuse with a passion; Does not adhere to traditional moral code; Follower mindset; Highly loyal

Evaluation: Salvare shows loyalty to people, rather than ideas. Because of this, the traditional appeal to our goals will not work on Salvare. Salvare has shown to follow others to such an extent that he changes his morals, goals, and mindset to match theirs. Given that Salvare has currently latched onto Red Satoshi, it is unlikely that we could acquire his skillset at this time. If Satoshi is to be terminated, then there is a high likelihood that Salvare would require termination as well. If Satoshi is to be turned, then there is a high likelihood that Salvare would turn as well.

Misc Notes: Salvare and Red Satoshi are a packaged deal. They will either both be enemies, or they will both be allies. Salvare has shown meteoric improvements since his apprenticeship to Satoshi. Any contact with Salvare should be treated with caution, and is unadvised until further notice. If Satoshi is to be terminated, then separate Salvare before doing so. There is a small chance, in that circumstance, that Salvare could be turned, and would provide valued skills to the organisation.

Name: Red Satoshi [Fake Name]

Hometown: [NONE] (Fake Hometown: Melemele Island, Alola Archipelago)

Sponsor: Professor Henry Elm [Johto Regional Professor]

Current Pokemon: Pichu [Male][Lethal], Charmander [Male][Draconic][Lethal], Frogadier [Male][Lethal], Project Changeling [Female][Stolen]

Current Location: Silver Town (Conference)

Psych Profile: Unknown origins; Highly dangerous; Shows no mercy in battle; Detached from others; Likely Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; Incomplete knowledge on individual’s psyche.

Evaluation: Satoshi is explicitly aware of our existence and is currently self-tasked with halting our work. It is unknown as to the extent of his knowledge, but he was both aware of the former base in Goldenrod and the Emperor’s title. Within the footage captured of Satoshi’s attack on the Goldenrod base, he killed 37 members within the span of an hour, showing no visible remorse. Looking both at the Goldenrod footage and the public recordings of Satoshi’s Gym Battles, he has been shown to be particularly adept in battle despite owning particularly weak pokemon. Additionally, Satoshi has displayed aura capabilities exceeding that of Master Aura Guardians. Satoshi has shown high ability in Fire, Psychic, Ground, Dark, Electric, Fairy, and Fighting auras. Satoshi is highly unlikely to turn to our cause, but until we determine exactly what his quarrel with the organisation is, that chance cannot be reduced to zero. Regardless, Satoshi is currently not to be terminated, regardless of his actions of the past and the future. Red Satoshi has been assigned as an Alpha-level threat, and his movements will be marked accordingly. Members will be notified if Satoshi is sighted in their vicinity. If he is near, activate all radar systems to maximum input, and be sure to record any energy readings. This is from the Emperor’s direct command.

Misc Notes: Satoshi has no recorded history before September, 1997. The surname Satoshi originates from the old clans of Kanto, potentially pointing to his origin. Satoshi’s Charmander is highly likely to be either draconic or of draconic descent (based on information provided by the Magician).

All three of these individuals are high-priority. Due to Satoshi’s actions at Goldenrod, any individual he travels with for an extended period of time will be marked as such. Also, I repeat, do not engage with Satoshi. Until more information on him and his motivations are known, he is to be left alone. That includes you, Chariot.

-The_Tower