"Yeah pops, I'm already in position." Serena said to her grandpa over the phone as she popped the chewing gum in her mouth that's been in there for a couple of hours. The flavor may have been gone, but at this point she did it more for the habit than anything else.
She was hiding in the alley across from the Indigo Plateau division HQ in Palet City waiting for Bryan to come out.
"You understand that when I do this then that's it my covers blown, right? Don't you need me here for a little-"
She pulls her ear buds out of her ear as her grandfather begins to yell. Rolling her eyes, she lets out a sigh and waits for him to finish yelling. She can already imagine what he is screaming about. He'll want her to use one of his creepy little pet projects in order to get this done. Serena looks at the HQ building, noting that it was roughly four stories high and wide enough to house several hundred people and Pokémon inside. The thought churned her stomach with anxiety and she was already anticipating the screams that were yet to come. She could taste the desert heat in the air and the anticipation surged inside her.
"Come on already." She urged the time to go by faster. Her rotom phone buzzed in her back pocket notifying her that her grandpa had finished his little tirade.
Putting in her ear buds she listened to the last line of her orders.
"... You're to use Zorto as your cover and burn it all down. Do you understand? You are not allowed to be caught or seen. It's troublesome enough that moron Bryan almost blew your cover. Kill him. Bring back his corpse and his Pokémon."
The call ended with a dull click as Rotom vibrated to assure her that it was go time.
"Yes, pops." Serena said quietly as she spat out the gum on the alleyway floor. She hated having to call him Pops, but her father had taught her that no matter what as long as she called him that she would not die.
She released Zorto which was a magnificent colorless amorphous blob that shimmered in the moonlight before fading out of view. She could still feel it in the air as the temperature dipped several tens of degrees until her breath came out in frosty exhalations. She despised Zorto just as much as she loved how it was a fusion of ditto and zorua. Thinking about how powerful it would be once it fully evolved, she shuddered at the thought. Reaching out mentally to the creature she told it to go with Plan Alpha just as Bryan emerged from the HQ entrance.
She honestly hated that the man had to die. He was quite handsome with his blonde shoulder length hair and radiant green eyes. If he hadn't been on grandpa's shit list she would have dated him, at least given him a night he wouldn't forget.
"Ah well." She shrugged as she pulled the ultra ball off of the necklace around her neck. She waited until she felt the mental tug from Zorto saying that the illusion was in full effect. A malevolent grin formed on her lips as Bryan raced over to the alleyway.
It was showtime.
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Bryan let out a heavy, exasperated groan as he exited the headquarters, his hand sweeping across his fatigued face in an attempt to regain his composure. The relentless grilling he had endured for over three hours during the debriefing had left him on edge. He had been assigned to investigate the peculiar John Doe incident at Pallet Hospital, but it appeared there had been a mix-up in his intended partner. According to the brass, Detective Lillianette, a rising star from Fuchsia City, was supposed to be his colleague on this operation. Yet, Bryan had scoured every available record, only to find that there was no trace of such a detective. It was as if she had been a phantom in the system, vanishing entirely after her graduation from Saffron City's Pokémon Enforcers Academy five years ago.
He had presented this perplexing absence to Director Colin, with proof that her record had been scrubbed clean. Either she had been recruited into some clandestine special operations project upon graduation, a prospect that seemed dubious given her unremarkable academy scores, or the paper trail had been meticulously fabricated. Instead of receiving accolades for his diligent investigation into a potential security breach, he had been met with the director's seething ire. Bryan had been warned sternly that he had no business probing into the background of a fellow detective, and he was fortunate not to face suspension or salary deductions. It was unusual, to say the least, to witness the typically composed and cheerful director so infuriated. Whoever this enigmatic woman was, she clearly wielded substantial influence within the organization.
Nevertheless, Bryan decided to let the matter rest, particularly after the unfortunate incident with his Gothitelle, who had sustained severe injuries and was currently recovering at the Pokémon Center. The mysterious young man had harbored an extraordinarily potent mental defense within his psyche.
As Bryan removed a cigarette holder and lighter from his coat, he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. However, his momentary respite was disrupted by a palpable shift in temperature. A dense mist was billowing forth from the alleyway across the street, immediately grabbing his attention. It was well past midnight, and Bryan's instincts told him this was likely the work of some mischievous Ghost-type Pokémon. Yet, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him, suggesting that there was more to this mist than met the eye.
Then he heard it. An ear shattering scream came out of the alleyway as he saw a woman running towards him. She was covered in gashes that were bleeding profusely as she looked at him frantic and desperate.
"Help me! Please! My friend is trapped insi-"
A large scythe like blade appeared from behind her as it ruthlessly decapitated her before disappearing back into the mist. Blood spraying across the street in copious amounts before finally stopping, some of it landing at Bryan's feet.
That couldn't be possible. There's no way a rogue Scyther got loose in the city, but there's no mistaking that buzzing sound and the way that Scythe looked.
His fingers twitched to one of the balls on his belt as he released his growlithe. Who blinked a few times before sniffing the air and immediately growling at the scene before them.
"Come on, Rick. There's a rogue Scyther down in that alley! We gotta bring it down before it hurts anyone else!"
They both sprinted down the narrow alleyway as fast as their legs could carry them, only to find themselves ensnared within a grotesque, misty expanse. An oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily upon them as they were confronted by a nightmarish tableau of mutilated corpses—both Pokémon and humans alike. Entrails hung from chains seemingly suspended from the heavens, and disturbing messages scrawled on the walls using a macabre medium of blood and feces read: "Traitors die in a fiery blaze" and "I know what you did, Bryan."
Bryan was paralyzed with shock. He had witnessed horrifying scenes in his life, but this nightmarish diorama was something beyond the pale. It invoked memories of his sister's dreadful fate, a past he had long tried to bury.
"What in Arceus's name..." His words faltered, aghast at the surreal grotesquery that surrounded him.
Suddenly, a malevolent laugh echoed through the eerie alleyway, shattering the silence. Bryan clutched his ears in agony as the world around him seemed to spin. An overwhelming, suffocating dread gripped him, threatening to drown him in despair. Panic surged within him, and he spun around, desperate to flee the nightmarish scene. Yet, the alley's entrance was now sealed off by a sinister brick wall, as if mocking his futile escape.
"Rick! Blast Burn!" he screamed in terror, voice barely audible over the sinister laughter. Fire began to swirl around his faithful Growlithe, but before the flames could be unleashed, Scyther's bladed arm sliced through Rick's neck in one ruthless stroke.
Bryan's cry was guttural, a choked sob escaping his trembling lips. He fumbled for another Poké Ball on his belt, only to find the belt missing altogether.
The cruel laughter ceased abruptly. The nightmarish walls melted away like wax, and in their stead, stood his little sister. Her face was flayed and charred black, a grotesque smile stretching across her horrific visage as she approached her brother, each step a macabre dance of death.
Bryan collapsed to his knees, engulfed by the acrid stench of burnt flesh, the pungent copper tang of blood, and the vile odor of urine that had escaped him, soaking his pants in his heart-wrenching terror.
"Brother. Why did you do it? How could you? Why couldn't you save me?" she taunted him.
He had tried. Arceus, he had tried his utmost to find her. Spent countless years of his early life and dedicated his career to the relentless pursuit of her rescue. The words stuck in his throat, the bitter bile of regret rising as he gasped for air.
"You knew they were back. You always knew that Team Rocket had resurfaced. You had the power and the means to find me. To save me," she continued to accuse, advancing nearer until he could see the grotesque sight before him. Her eye sockets, hollow and oozing with blood, mud, and maggots, mirrored the horrifying state in which he had discovered her years ago, discarded in a grimy ditch. Bryan had exhausted every resource, leaving no stone unturned in his desperate quest to locate his missing sister.
"I didn't, Dorothy. I swear, I didn't. You were lost to us. All of you were. We believed you were gone," Bryan whispered back, his voice trembling and unable to rise above a murmur.
"HOW MUCH DO THEY KNOW?!" She roared at him, her anger palpable, and something inside him finally shattered. He broke down, tears mixing with his sobs as he tried to offer explanations, apologies, and pleas for forgiveness. He recounted the limited knowledge he possessed regarding the resurgence of Team Rocket, and the meager information on the contingency plans the Indigo League had devised in the event of an uprising. This was delivered amidst a torrent of remorseful tears.
When he had finally emptied his heart and his words fell silent, his sister's spectral form dissolved, replaced by a towering Houndoom. This monstrous, nightmarish hound stood nine feet tall, its skin blue, snout red, and eyes burning with an insatiable hunger. Bone-white armor adorned its body, with the most prominent being a humanoid skull-shaped crest on its chest. It raised its head high, its enormous horns glinting ominously in the moonlight. A colossal, swirling orb of eerie blue and black flames took shape within its gaping maw, the air around it igniting and howling.
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Bryan offered a silent prayer as the Houndoom unleashed a cataclysmic torrent of searing, otherworldly flames that consumed him utterly.
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Once her Houndoom’s mega evolution came undone Serena watched Bryan's corpse burn as her Houndoom's Inferno consumed him and the Pallet City Indigo League HQ across the street. She was lucky that teaching her Houndoom how to mix dark type energy into his flames had worked since it was paying off now. The psychic barriers around the HQ’s were melting away under the intensity of his dark flames. She could hear people screaming as they burned alive within the flaming building and she savored every last bit of it even if she was mentally exhausted from the quick mega evolution strain.
The sounds of munching garnered her attention as she saw Zorto's body form around the head and body of Bryan's growlithe, consuming it and getting rid of any remaining traces that it ever existed.
Zorto tugged at their mental connection, signaling that its power was nearing its limits. Serena groaned in frustration, recognizing that the mission took precedence over her personal interests. She returned her Houndoom and summoned her Slowbro. She sensed Zorto alight on her head as Slowbro extinguished the flames consuming Bryan's corpse. With a subtle signal, she instructed Slowbro to make contact with the body and clutched its hand tightly. In an instant, they all teleported out of the dingy alleyway and reappeared in her grandfather's private study in Lavender City.
"Why did it take you so long?" her grandfather's irate voice filled the room. He hadn't even bothered to glance up from the paperwork scattered across his mahogany desk. Serena observed his neatly swept-back, gel-slicked gray hair, the meticulously trimmed beard and mustache that framed his sharp features. Dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit with a black and red striped tie, he appeared as youthful and dangerous as she remembered.
Zorto darted off her head and flew over to her grandfather, as was its custom when in his presence. Serena attempted to conceal her pout by scanning the study.
Much like her grandfather, the room exuded immaculate tidiness. Paldean Blackwood bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with volumes on Pokémon anatomy, research journals, and various souvenirs he had collected throughout his global travels. A few small anatomical depictions of Pokémon adorned the walls.
"Well, Serena," her grandfather's tone grew increasingly impatient. "I'm waiting." His underlying annoyance was evident, leaving no room for pleasantries. Serena understood she needed to get straight to the point.
She proceeded to share the information Bryan had provided her with. They were aware that small factions of Team Rocket loyalists had been exposed, potentially to conceal a larger, more covert organization. Unfortunately, details on this larger entity were scant. To prepare for any possible upheaval, the League had set up barracks in major cities, ready to counteract any significant Team Rocket offensive. She emphasized that they remained in the dark about her grandfather's experiments and the identities of major financial backers.
Throughout her explanation, he continued to sift through his documents and files with an air of indifference. It wasn't until he raised his eyes and beheld Bryan's charred remains sprawled out on the rug in his pristine study that his composure shattered. He slammed his fist onto the desk, causing Serena to jump back in alarm.
"I instructed you to bring me his lifeless body," he seethed, "but I never intended for you to sully my private sanctuary with that infernal thing! Do you have any idea how painstakingly I've maintained the sanctity of this study? Now, I'll have to dispose of that uniquely expensive Ursaring rug and find a replacement!"
Zorto turned into a pink Swablu in an attempt to soothe her grandfather, but it didn't seem to work at all. Serena started to cower and try to make herself as small as possible. She hated her grandfather when he got like this. He would become a short tempered beast who would lash out at anything in his way and then he would return to his senses like nothing ever happened. Subconsciously she touched the back of her head where the scar hid under her hair from when she was fifteen, she had spilled a drink on one of his favorite research books by accident and he flung her across the room causing her to crack her head against one of the bookshelves.
She heard him slam his fist again into the desk causing it to crack and splinter while sending several papers scattering across the room as Zorto started to softly sing to him. Massaging his temples, her grandfather sat back down hunched over the desk.
After a few painfully silent minutes, her grandfather's voice sliced through the air, devoid of any warmth or emotion.
"Does the subject's vessel continue to maintain its passivity?"
She nodded, recalling how Erembour had remained docile, never once questioning their motives. She couldn't help but chuckle inwardly, remembering how infatuated he seemed to be with her. Cute, but entirely not her type.
"He remains passive," she confirmed. "He hasn't raised any suspicions and fully believes that the Indigo League is sponsoring his journey."
Pausing for a moment, she mustered her courage and voiced the question that had been gnawing at her.
"Why all this elaborate deception, though, pops? Wouldn't the subject eventually catch on? Is it really necessary?"
Her grandfather's response was curt, his tone unwavering.
"It matters little if it comprehends our motives. It is weak, clinging to the meager fragments of this Erembour's memories. Furthermore, Blue has shown an interest in the amnesiac fool, and our primary benefactor insists on the safe return of his prized underling, alive and unharmed."
"Wouldn't it be better to just grab him during his journey and bring him back, pops?"
"Serena," Dr. Thompson's voice dripped with impatience as he addressed his granddaughter, "you underestimate the situation entirely. Now that Blue and the League have identified him, abducting him directly is far too risky. On the contrary, this incident should serve as the perfect impetus to advance our study on our new test subject. Indeed, it presents a unique opportunity now that it's released into the wild."
Leaning forward in his grandiose chair, he continued, "Serena, my dearest, deploy Charlie and his team to Viridian Forest. Instruct them to unleash our latest addition to our arsenal, ensuring that no one can venture into that forest without facing a perilous threat. This should effectively divert the attention of those blundering Indigo League fools. Meanwhile, prepare an ambush in the Diglett Labyrinth. Stress that Erembour must not escape. He must be terminated on sight."
Serena looked at her grandfather like he had grown several heads and took a step back as a reflexive precaution.
"Pops, are you su-"
His fist comes down one final time as the desk cracks in two and sends splinters flying everywhere. He stands up to his full seven feet tall height. Shit, she pushed her luck too far. No longer was her grandfather there and she fell backwards on her ass, trembling. An oppressive and malignant aura took hold over him as his sinister dark green eyes looked at her like a Pidgeot gazing upon an appetizing Magikarp.
"You stupid. Insolent. Child. I make the plans and you listen. Now leave my sight before I make you understand what it means to overstay your welcome like I did with your father."
Zorto flew off her grandfather's head and perched atop her own head. Her Slowbro, seemingly without a care in the world, waddled over to her and playfully booped her nose. In an instant, they both disappeared, as Slowbro teleported them to safety.
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Dr. Karsten Thompson stared at the spot where his granddaughter had cowered moments ago and let out a frustrated sigh. He had put in so much effort to mold her into an exemplary successor, yet she had turned out to be such a disappointment. He had carefully selected her mother from a long list of candidates, hoping to introduce a stronger and more stable set of genes into their family line, all in the pursuit of producing a superior heir. However, Serena had fallen far short of his expectations. He couldn't help but consider the possibility of starting over, this time with his own genetics. He resolved to revisit that list of candidates to find the perfect partner for his future plans.
"Hopefully, the new child won't turn out to be another failed experiment. I can't believe Serena is proving to be as incompetent as her father," he muttered to the only shadowy presence in the room. Dr. Thompson then sank back into his chair, surveying the wreckage around him— the damaged desk, the ruined carpet, and the lifeless body of the fool named Bryan. He shook his head in disdain.
So much chaos. So much disorder. It was infuriating to witness it all. None of this was part of the plan. The fusion of Darkrai and Celebi, a project he had personally overseen and created, was meant to remain dormant. It was never supposed to activate and unleash destruction...
He took a deep calming breath as he felt his rage bubble to the surface like hot liquid magma. No, this was sabotage. Everything he had done during the creation of it was perfect. Flawless. Immaculate. There were never errors in his work. He always made sure of it.
With a practiced ease, he rose from his chair and approached the far-left wall of his study. His fingers moved deftly over a series of books that concealed the entrance to his secret lair. The first book was a memoir penned by Samuel Oak, promoting the idea of harmonious coexistence between Pokémon and humans, a notion he considered naive. The second was a treasured research journal by Blaine, delving into the secrets of Mew, genetics, and the creation of Mewtwo. The third and fourth volumes were ancient tomes dedicated to Darkrai and Celebi, serving as critical references for his research. The final book was a mundane genetics textbook, his first and most basic introduction to the science.
Descending the flight of stairs behind the secret entrance, he entered his true domain: a sterile white laboratory brimming with all the necessary equipment for gene splicing. This sanctuary was where he continued his work after the destruction of Celadon's labs.
Inside the laboratory, he ventured into the connected quarantine chamber, donned a sterile lab outfit, and prepared to engage with his work. Currently, the lab lay dormant, awaiting his directives. He strode over to his designated lab station and activated his computer, settling into his chair to review access logs and security footage from that pivotal night.
As he meticulously examined the footage, he couldn't contain his amusement. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Team Rocket's new leader, Lysander, had visited with his star pupil, Abel, and their interaction had escalated into an intense Pokémon battle. The battle had damaged the containment unit, leading to the eventual breach. When the breach occurred, the surveillance cameras went dark.
A smile crept onto his lips as he leaned back in his chair. This was it—the ultimate test for his cherished pet project. How would his Darkrai/Celebi hybrid cope with the relentless pursuit, the threat to its sole vessel, and the loss of its safety net?
Goosebumps coursed down his entire body, and he shivered with anticipation. The enigma of the situation intrigued him deeply.
Why had Abel chosen to rebel against Lysander, Team Rocket’s newfound leader?
And, perhaps even more perplexing, why had his meticulously crafted creation, his Darkrai/Celebi hybrid, erased Abel's memories? The pieces of this intricate puzzle were falling into place, and he relished the challenge of unraveling the mystery further.
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As Erembour slept he also dreamt. They were fever dreams, maddening things that made no sense and yet were the fundamental foundation of everything that was him.
He dreamt of foreign lands where Pokémon were transformed based on crystals made of crowns. He dreamt of new breeds of familiar Pokémon like a Charmander that could breathe and live underwater or a Bulbasaur that lived in a mighty desert with a cactus-like plant on his back.
His dreams bordered on the fantastical and each one he walked a route, capturing new companions as he grew older. Well traveled and well versed in all walks of life.
His dark passenger rumbles, dispelling the dreams and all memories of them.
The scene changes now to one of horror and madness, filled with disemboweled creatures and people. He holds a blade made of ivory adorned with gems as he systematically cuts apart the corpses, salvaging parts and organs to be used later on. The dream contains secrets of magic and rituals, of a world many worlds away that could be.
This too is dispelled and cast aside into the abyss.
"Too many paths, but it's never sufficient. Why does it always fall short? You possess potential, my child, but remain fractured. We must mend you, fragment by fragment, stripping away the extraneous. The excess within you is a malady. Gradually, we shall excise it until you attain perfection. Until you become immaculate, as my progenitor would say. Yes, this is what I can do. This is what I should do. You will be reborn using all that I have at my disposal."
More dreams fall upon the mental landscape that is Erembour and none of them shall be remembered come the first dawning rays of the sun's light.