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Chapter Text

After what felt like hours, the outskirts of Nimbasa City finally came into view, its iconic Ferris wheel towering above the surrounding landscape. The chatter of passengers—both trainers and Pokémon—filled the air, a mix of excitement and anticipation. As the bus drew closer, Max's anxiety began to build, his tense expression catching Eclipsa's attention.

"Max, are you okay?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Without responding, Max reached up and pulled the cord, signaling the bus to stop. The doors hissed open, and he stepped off. The others followed, casting curious glances at him as they disembarked. The bus rumbled back to life and continued on its route, leaving them standing by the roadside. Max stared up at the welcome sign, his unease palpable. Eclipsa approached him cautiously. "I know you're scared of what could happen," she said gently, "but you don't have to be, as long as we're here.”

Max turned to face Eclipsa, then glanced at the rest of the group, his uncertainty clear in his eyes. He hesitated, unsure of what to say or do. "Char…" he murmured, his voice filled with regret. Bowing his head in embarrassment as he apologized to them.

"How about we split up? You three can stay here while Eclipsa and I head into the city for supplies," Francisco suggested to the group.

Both Snivy and Goodra nodded in agreement, but Max still appeared uneasy. Sensing his distress, Eclipsa suddenly gave the Charizard a hug, catching him off guard. "Charizard!" Max exclaimed, startled by the unexpected gesture.

"Come on, big guy," Eclipsa teased playfully. "You can't tell me this doesn't make you feel at least 1% better.” After a moment of hesitation, Max slowly wrapped his arms around Eclipsa, gently returning the hug.

They then let go, and Eclipsa and Francisco began making their way toward town. "We'll be back soon. You three take care of each other, okay?" Francisco called out as they walked away.

Max watched them go, his gaze drifting down to the city ahead. A knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. He worried for their safety, but even more so, he worried about himself—about what he could do, about the danger he posed just by existing. His thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last. What if he lost control? What if his power hurt them? The weight of his own potential destruction pressed heavily on him, making him feel like a literal ticking time bomb in their midst. Snivy glanced up at Charizard, noticing the anxiety etched across his face. Without a word, she darted off, her decision sudden but purposeful. "Snivy," she called softly to Goodra before disappearing into the distance.

Goodra quickly turned to follow her, calling out, "Goodra? Goodra?!" But Snivy was already gone. He hesitated for a moment, then turned his attention back to Max. With careful steps, he approached the troubled Charizard and settled down beside him, Max immediately scooted away for Goodra's safety.

But Goodra, undeterred, moved to sit directly in front of him. The gentle dragon began taking slow, deep breaths, his eyes steady on Max. After a moment, Max found himself mirroring Goodra's actions, his own breathing gradually slowing as his anxiety began to ease. "Goodra?" Goodra asked softly, seeking reassurance. Max met his gaze and nodded, signaling that he was starting to feel calmer.

In Viridian City, a PIA truck rumbled down the road, flanked by six cop cars and two black SUVs—one leading the convoy and the other bringing up the rear. Inside the truck, Mienshao was securely chained, its movements restricted. Two trainers sat opposite the restrained Pokémon, accompanied by their own partners: a vigilant Boltund and a watchful Dreepy. Outside, a group of hooded figures began to gather on the street, as if anticipating the convoy's arrival. The Mienshao, catching a glimpse of them through the small window, let out a low, eerie laugh, his eyes gleaming with recognition. The trainers and their Pokémon immediately turned to him, tension thick in the air. One of them, voice edged with unease, asked, "What's so funny?”

Suddenly, two combat-bred Tauros charged at the truck, slamming into its side with Raging Bull. The force nearly flipped the vehicle, the SUVs and cop cars screeching to a halt. The impact left a massive dent in the truck, and a shard of metal was sent flying, embedding itself into one of the trainers' backs. The Boltund was thrown violently across the interior, crashing into the opposite wall. Immediately, the hooded figures moved in, surrounding the entire convoy as bystanders and their Pokémon quickly scattered, leaving the area. The PIA agents stepped out of their vehicles, their Pokémon at the ready, eyes locked on the enemy. In response, the figures drew their Pokéballs, summoning their own Pokémon for battle. The two groups of Pokémon charged at each other, clashing violently in the middle of the street. Dreepy glanced up, spotting his trainer struggling to get up while the other lay on the ground, writhing in pain. Suddenly, the truck's doors were ripped open by a powerful Magnezone. Reacting quickly, Dreepy unleashed Infestation, but Magnezone braced itself, using Endure to withstand the attack. A Chesnaught suddenly appeared, grabbing both Dreepy and Boltund in its powerful arms and hurling them out of the vehicle. Without hesitation, it followed up with a brutal Hammer Arm, striking down their trainers with lethal force. Mienshao watched the carnage, cheering with a sick, twisted amusement.

Chesnaught then smashed open the cage and snapped the chains, freeing Mienshao. Stepping out of the wreckage, Mienshao moved away, casting a cold glance at the injured Boltund and Dreepy lying on the ground. "Kill them," he ordered, his voice devoid of emotion. Chesnaught and Magnezone turned toward the helpless Pokémon, ready to carry out the command.

As Mienshao walked away from the carnage, one of the hooded figures silently fell into step beside him. "What took you so long?" he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation.

"Just be glad we got you out," she replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She pulled out a Pokéball, and Mienshao immediately growled, his eyes narrowing in defiance.

"I'm not going in there!" he snarled, his voice filled with resistance.

She met his gaze, unfazed. "So you'd rather end up back in PIA custody?" she countered, her tone sharp and challenging.

"Fine, but if that's the case, I'm doing it myself." With a growl of frustration, he snatched the Pokéball from her and pointed the tiny circle at his chest. Pressing it into his fur, he allowed himself to be captured. The woman swiftly caught the ball in her hands before it could hit the ground. Without another word, she slipped into the shadows of a narrow alley, disappearing from sight.

Meanwhile, Eclipsa and Francisco made their way to the center of town, arriving at Gear Station. They noticed that the Big Stadium and Small Court were shut down, and a crowd of angry people and Pokémon had gathered around the Battle Institute. They stopped as a man climbed onto a platform with his Loudred, holding a microphone while Loudred gripped the cord tightly in its hand. "Everyone, please calm down!" the man urged through Loudred's amplified voice.

Suddenly, an Arcanine let out a furious roar, startling both him and Loudred. Eclipsa hesitated before approaching a nearby woman who looked disheartened, her Dragonair coiled disappointedly beside her. "What’s going on?" Eclipsa asked, her voice cautious.

The woman turned to face her, sadness etched in her features. "The Pokémon League is shutting down all facilities and operations." she explained.

"Why?" Eclipsa pressed, her concern growing.

A man with a Nidoking stepped in, his tone grim. "Something to do with the situation in Ryme City. I mean, Unova makes sense because of how close we are, but it’s not just happening here. Every branch of the Pokémon League is on lockdown, even their HQ in Kanto.”

Nidoking’s eyes narrowed as he recognized Eclipsa, pointing at her with a growl. "Nidoking, Nidoking," he rumbled, drawing his trainer’s attention.

The man turned sharply to Eclipsa, his expression shifting from curiosity to realization. "Wait, you’re the one who exposed Team Rocket!" he exclaimed.

At his words, the crowd began to murmur, turning to face Eclipsa. Their initial shock quickly gave way to a mix of emotions—curiosity, admiration, and a barrage of questions hovering on their lips.

"Hey, it wasn't just me—I had help," Eclipsa quickly said, raising her hands defensively. The crowd continued to murmur, their eyes fixed on her and Francisco, when a woman in a striking yellow fur coat pushed her way through the gathering, her Emolga striding confidently beside her. Francisco stepped forward, trying to intervene, but before either of them could react, they were surrounded, the crowd only parting to let the woman and her Emolga through.

"You two are the ones who leaked all those documents?" she asked, her tone sharp but curious. Eclipsa and Francisco exchanged a glance before nodding. "Come. Follow me," the woman ordered, turning without waiting for a response. With little choice, they trailed after her as she led them toward the gym, the weight of the crowd’s eyes following them the whole way. “Rolan, get in here!” the woman shouted as she guided Eclipsa and Francisco into the building. Her Emolga quickly switched on the lights in the lobby, though they flickered a bit before stabilizing.

Moments later, Rolan entered with his Loudred, locking the doors behind them with a firm click. "What is it, Elesa?" he asked, glancing between her and the two newcomers.

“They’re the ones who exposed Team Rocket,” Elesa explained to Rolan, her tone both matter-of-fact and admiration. She then turned back to Eclipsa and Francisco. “So, what brings you to Nimbasa City?”

“We’re trying to get to Neon Town,” Eclipsa replied.

Elesa raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. “Neon Town? Why there?”

Eclipsa hesitated for a moment but decided to answer truthfully. “We’re looking for a group of family members. We have a Charizard who’s searching for them.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of you to help,” Elesa said, her tone softening for a moment.

Sensing the need for more clarity, Francisco quickly added, "It's more than that. He's... troubled. Really anxious.”

"About reuniting with his family?" Rolan asked.

"No," Francisco said, shaking his head. "He's worried about losing control—and hurting a lot of people.”

Elesa's expression turned more serious. "I’d like to meet this Charizard, but I assume you need supplies first."

"Yes, we do," Eclipsa agreed.

Elesa and her Emolga helped them get some things, and then followed Eclipsa and Francisco back as they explained more about their situation.

Meanwhile, Goodra and Max sat under a tree, watching as travelers passed by. Goodra waved cheerfully to one group before turning to Max, who was nervously trimming his claws with his own, a tense expression etched on his face. Goodra then turned his head to see Snivy approaching with a small bundle of berries, offering them to her friends. Goodra took a handful and eagerly devoured them, while Max simply held his berries, his mind racing with memories of the events in Ryme City. He recalled the sudden transformation—the unbearable heat flooding his body, the searing pain as he burned from within. It was the worst pain he had ever experienced, a memory that clung to his mind like glue. His breathing quickened, and Snivy, noticing his distress, placed a gentle hand on him before wrapping her small arms around his leg in a comforting hug. The gesture snapped him back to reality. Goodra’s expression softened as he looked at Max, his sympathy clear.

When their trainers finally returned, Elesa approached Max cautiously, mindful not to add to the Charizard's distress. "So, you must be Max," she said gently.

Max nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Eclipsa and Francisco exchanged worried glances, becoming increasingly aware of how different Max’s behavior had been since his transformation.

"So, what's the plan?" Eclipsa asked Elesa.

"There's a Zoroark in Lostlorn Forest who can help you on your journey," Elesa replied before releasing her Zebstrika from a Pokéball. "My Zebstrika will lead the way since I'll be busy dealing with the frustrated trainers for however long this lockdown lasts."

"Thanks," Eclipsa said.

"No problem; it's the least I can do," Elesa replied. She then noticed Charizard’s tail flame flickering between shades of yellow, blue, and red, her curiosity piqued as she leaned in for a closer look. Max instinctively pulled his tail away from her in fear, but Elesa raised her hands calmly. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.” Max hesitated before reluctantly letting go, allowing Elesa to look closer. She noticed his tail twitching each time it shifted to red and blue. “Does your tail hurt by chance?” she asked. Max shook his head, but as she lightly touched his tail, he recoiled instantly, pain shooting up his spine. “Sorry,” Elesa said quickly, pulling back. She then took out a Hyper Potion and handed it to Eclipsa. “Apply this to his tail periodically. It looks like he’s really sensitive there.”

“I will,” Eclipsa replied with a nod.

Elesa gave a small wave. “I’d better get back and close up the place. Take care!”

“Bye,” Eclipsa replied.

“Thanks again,” Francisco added, waving as Elesa walked away.

“Goodra?” Goodra asked, reaching out.

“Here—” Francisco started to hand him a paper map, then paused as he noticed the slime dripping from Goodra’s hands. “Maybe someone else should hold it.”

Eclipsa chuckled, and Max seemed to ease up slightly. “How about you, Max?” Eclipsa asked.

“Chari?” Max pointed to himself, surprised.

“Yeah," Eclipsa replied with a gentle smile. "I know you don’t want to go through a crowded area, but if you lead, we can go around Nimbasa instead of heading straight through it.” Francisco handed him the map, and after a moment’s thought, Max stood up, accepting the responsibility. He began guiding the group along a small dirt path through the woods, taking the long way around. Zebstrika trotted beside him, glancing at the map to help keep them on track.

At a PIA facility, Velvet’s eyes fluttered open, her vision blurry and unfocused. She could feel bandages wrapped tightly across her chest and back, each shallow breath making her ribs ache. The room swayed around her as she tried to sit up, only to feel the cold bite of restraints holding her limbs and tail in place. A surge of panic washed over her, her heart pounding as her breaths came faster, sharper. “CHAR!” she cried out, her voice breaking. The sterile scent, the medical equipment gleaming under bright lights, the tight restraints—all of it dragged her back to the lab, to the experiments, to the agony she had fought so hard to forget.

Hearing her cries, several professors hurried into the room, including Professor Oak. He exchanged a grave look with the others, recognizing the telltale signs of a traumatic episode. “Hold her steady,” he ordered, his voice firm but gentle as he moved swiftly to unlock her bindings. As soon as her wrists were freed, Velvet’s claws sparked with a fierce energy, and in a single desperate motion, she slashed through the remaining restraints, the Dragon Claw tearing through fabric and flesh alike. The doctors stepped back, hands raised in cautious surrender as she bolted across the room, curling into a corner. Shaking and breathless, Velvet pressed herself against the wall, her eyes darting wildly as she tried to bring her breathing under control, clawed fingers digging into the floor. She closed her eyes, focusing, struggling to ground herself and push the memories back into the shadows.

“Everyone out!” Oak commanded firmly, his gaze never leaving Velvet. As the others filed out, he took a careful step toward her, hands held up in a gesture of peace. But to Velvet, his face blurred and shifted, transforming into the cold, calculating gaze of a Team Rocket scientist. The memory of relentless pain and merciless experiments flooded her mind, overwhelming her senses until that was all she could see. A shuddering sob escaped her, and she broke down, tears streaming down her face as she pressed herself tighter into the corner. Oak knelt slowly, his voice gentle but steady as he tried to pull her back to the present. “Velvet… You’re safe now, I'm with the PIA.” he said softly, hoping his words would reach through the haze of her memories and bring her back.

Velvet’s gaze slowly shifted back to Oak, her blurred vision clearing as she recognized his face once more. Her frantic breaths began to slow, each one steadier than the last, as she took in her surroundings and let reality settle back in. Her eyes drifted down to her wrists, her legs, even her tail, noticing the fresh cuts where her own claws had bitten into her skin during her desperate struggle. A weary sigh escaped her as the sting of her injuries registered, grounding her further in the present.

Grace and Eva stepped into the room, but Oak’s gaze immediately narrowed as it landed on Grace, a trace of anger in his eyes. “Follow me,” he said curtly, motioning her to the hallway. Eva lingered behind, casting a wary eye on Velvet as she remained in the room.

Once they were in the hallway, Oak turned to Grace, his voice low but tense. “Why didn’t you tell me she was from Team Rocket?”

Grace then snapped back “Why did you have her restrained like that?”

“Because, in case she's dangerous. But if I had known that she was from Team Rocket, I would've taken a different approach.” Oak explained with a hint of frustration.

Grace hesitated, then lowered her head slightly. “I should have told you about the tattoo. I’m sorry.”

Oak’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Tattoo? I didn’t see it—those bandages must be covering it.” He rubbed his forehead, processing this new information. “She just had an episode.”

“An episode?”

Oak nodded, his expression troubled. “Yes. The medical setup, the restraints—it must have triggered some memory of... something cruel Rocket did to her. I’ve seen it before.” He paused, as if weighing his next words. “What’s her serial number?”

Grace thought for a moment, then answered, “MX-470.”

In the quiet room, Velvet’s gaze drifted toward the window, her breath hitching as she noticed something unusual in the reflection. Slowly, she rose to her feet, one hand clutching the bandages across her chest, her eyes locked on the glass. Eva followed her line of sight, a look of confusion and worry flickering across her face as she tried to understand what Velvet was seeing. But where Eva saw only their own reflections and the observation room beyond, Velvet saw something far different—a Dialga and a Groudon, looming side by side, their intense gazes fixed directly on her through the glass.

“Eevee?” Eva called softly, her voice uncertain, as she glanced back at the window, hoping to catch whatever had caught Velvet’s attention. But to her eyes, there was nothing extraordinary—just their reflections and the quiet, sterile room.

As the gang made their way along the dirt path, Max suddenly halted, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Char?” he whispered, staring ahead in shock.

“Why did you stop?” Francisco asked, glancing back at him.

Max pointed down the road, his voice trembling. “Charizard!” He was trying to convey what he saw—Dialga and Groudon standing before him, magnificent and imposing. But when he turned back, they were gone, leaving only an empty stretch of dirt in front of him.

“There's nothing there, Max. Come on,” Eclipsa urged gently, concern lacing her tone.

Max frowned, his heart racing. He felt a chill run down his spine as he realized he might be the only one who had seen the legendary Pokémons. Confusion clouded his expression, mixing with a sense of isolation as he continued to stare ahead, questioning his own mind.

As night descended on Nimbasa City, the halls of Big Stadium were eerily quiet. Elesa walked alongside her Emolga, making final preparations for the impending lockdown. Suddenly, a loud clapping echoed through the empty seats, drawing her attention. A figure clad in red and gray emerged from the shadows, descending the steps to the arena floor.

“Hello, Elesa,” he said, his voice smooth yet unsettling.

“Who are you?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes.

“A potential friend,” he replied, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Assuming you’re willing to cooperate with us.”

“Did Team Rocket send you?” Elesa's tone was sharp, suspicion lacing her words.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “But don’t worry, we’re not Team Rocket. We’re the Pokémon Pinchers.”

“And what do you do?” Elesa asked, crossing her arms defiantly.

The man chuckled, his expression gleaming with intrigue. “We catch Pokémon. Sorry if that sounds a bit vague, specifically, we’re the ones you contact when there’s a very specific Pokémon you want to have. And right now, there’s a certain Charizard we’re interested in.”

Elesa’s expression hardened. “Get out of my city.”

The man reached the arena floor, a Pokéball rolling between his fingers as his smile grew sharper. “How about a battle? If I win, you tell me where he’s going.”

Elesa’s eyes narrowed with determination, her lips curling into a slight smirk. “And if I win,” she shot back, her voice cold as steel, “you leave that Charizard—and his friends—alone.” She stepped onto the arena floor, Emolga hovering beside her, crackling with electric energy, ready for the battle to come.

Chapter Text

Professor Oak entered the small, lush habitat, his gaze immediately drawn to Velvet, who sat motionless in the far corner, her eyes fixed on an empty space across the room. Grace and Eva watched from behind the glass as Oak slowly approached the Charizard, his expression a careful mix of caution and empathy.

Oak cleared his throat softly, hoping not to startle her. “I’d like to formally apologize for restraining you earlier. We only did that as a precaution… in case you were dangerous.”

Velvet’s gaze flicked to him briefly before returning to the empty corner. “Charizard,” she murmured, her tone distant.

Oak hesitated, then pressed on, choosing his words with care. “There’s something… unique about your DNA,” he said. “Your blood isn’t entirely Charizard. There are traces of two other Pokémon within it.”

Velvet’s eyes narrowed as if she understood more than he anticipated. “Charizard, Charizard?” she asked, her tone questioning.

Oak’s brows furrowed, a look of surprise crossing his face. “How did you know?”

Velvet didn’t respond verbally. Instead, she lifted a claw, pointing intently toward the empty corner she had been staring at all along. “Charizard,” she murmured with quiet worry and fear.

Grace, observing from the observation room, quickly pressed a button and spoke into the mic. “What did she say?”

Oak’s voice was barely a whisper, his own curiosity mixed with a hint of unease. “She said… she’s seeing Dialga and Groudon. Right there, in that corner.” He nodded to the seemingly empty space Velvet was transfixed by, a chill running down his spine as he considered what that might mean.

Oak cautiously approached the corner, each step slow and deliberate. Velvet's eyes widened in fear, her body tensing as she watched him. “Char!” she cried, her voice sharp with alarm.

Oak paused, turning back to her. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “Just… tell me exactly what they’re doing.”

Velvet’s gaze remained fixed on the corner, where, in her eyes, Dialga moved aside just enough for Oak to pass. From her perspective, Oak stood mere inches from the two imposing figures, oblivious to the presence she saw so clearly. Her breaths came fast, shallow, as she struggled to find the words.

Oak waited, watching her, his expression soft but wary. “What are they doing, Velvet?” he asked, his voice low and calm, as if he sensed the delicate line between soothing her and provoking another outburst.

In a shaky voice, Velvet finally replied, “Char… Charizard…” Her tone was laced with fear, as if even describing their actions was dangerous. She watched as Groudon’s crimson eyes seemed to bore into her, unblinking, while Dialga stood beside him, still as stone yet radiating a silent, powerful tension.

Oak took a slow breath, realizing that whatever she saw was vivid, perhaps as real to her as he was in this room. His mind raced with questions he couldn’t yet answer, but he knew one thing: whatever this was, it troubled her, deeply.

————————————————————

At Big Stadium, the air grew thick with tension as the man released his Typhlosion in a flash of white light, its fierce gaze meeting Emolga’s determined eyes. The fiery Pokémon let out a low growl, flames flickering around its neck like a smoldering warning. Elesa’s Emolga hovered above, small but undeterred, her sparks crackling in anticipation.

The two Pokémon sized each other up, neither backing down. Elesa stood tall, her confidence unshaken as she called out, “Emolga, let’s start strong—use Volt Switch!”

With a nod, Emolga launched herself forward in a blur of speed, striking Typhlosion with a burst of electricity before darting back, repositioning with Volt Switch. Typhlosion staggered slightly, its eyes narrowing as it recovered, the flames on its neck flaring up more fiercely.

The man sneered. “Typhlosion, Flame Wheel!”

With a fierce roar, Typhlosion surrounded itself in a spiraling vortex of fire, charging at Emolga. The stadium filled with the intense heat of its flames, but Elesa’s Emolga expertly dodged, soaring higher and darting around the burning wheel. Typhlosion skidded to a stop, growling in frustration as it missed.

“Emolga, hit it with Acrobatics!” Elesa commanded.

Emolga took advantage of Typhlosion’s halted momentum, swooping down and flipping with incredible agility to deliver a powerful strike, knocking Typhlosion back. The fiery Pokémon stumbled, shaking its head to clear the dizziness.

“Typhlosion, Thunder Punch!” the man called out, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Typhlosion’s fist crackled with electricity as it lunged, trying to catch Emolga mid-flight. Emolga barely evaded the powerful punch, feeling the electricity graze past her as it spiraled out of reach.

Elesa’s eyes narrowed in focus. “Emolga, use Electro Ball!”

Emolga soared high, forming a glowing ball of electricity between her paws. she hurled the orb straight at Typhlosion, the energy crackling in the air as it shot forward. The Electro Ball struck Typhlosion with full force, sending it sprawling backward. The flames around its neck flickered, then dimmed as Typhlosion let out a final groan and slumped to the ground, defeated.

Elesa gave a victorious nod, her Emolga landing beside her. “I believe that means you’ll be leaving the Charizard alone.”

The man recalled his Typhlosion, the red light of the Pokéball flashing briefly before he immediately released his next choice. Blaziken landed on the field with a fierce cry, flames licking at its wrists. "I call for a rematch," he declared, his eyes challenging.

"Alright, two for two," Elesa replied, her voice calm yet edged with determination. Emolga nodded, hovering to the center with unwavering confidence. The two trainers locked eyes, tension simmering between them.

Before Elesa could issue a command, the man slipped a purple vial from his pocket and handed it to Blaziken. The Blaziken drank it swiftly, tossing the empty vial aside as a strange, intense glow overtook its eyes, turning them an eerie purple. Emolga cocked her head, noticing the unsettling change in Blaziken’s gaze, her own expression shifting from confidence to cautious curiosity.

“Emolga, be ready!” she called, her voice steady, though a hint of concern flickered in her eyes.

Blaziken’s gaze locked onto Emolga, the purple glow in its eyes intensifying as it sized up its opponent. Emolga hesitated, sensing the strange aura, but steadied herself, ready for Elesa’s call.

“Emolga, Thunderbolt!” Elesa commanded, her voice firm.

Emolga darted forward, sparks crackling from her cheeks before unleashing a powerful jolt of electricity straight at Blaziken. But Blaziken barely flinched. With a swift, almost predatory movement, it lunged at Emolga, fists blazing.

“Blaziken, Blaze Kick!” the man shouted.

In a blur, Blaziken struck Emolga with a searing kick, the force of the attack knocking her out in one blow. She dropped to the ground, fainted, her small body still sparking with residual electricity.

Elesa clenched her fists, feeling the intensity of the battle weighing on her, but she quickly regained her composure. “You fought well, Emolga,” she said softly, recalling her Pokémon. Then, she drew out a second Pokéball, releasing another Emolga onto the field.

“Ready?” she asked, and the other Emolga, determined, flew forward.

Blaziken’s eyes glowed an even deeper shade of purple, and the man smirked. “Blaziken, Overheat!” he commanded.

Before Elesa’s Emolga could even react, a surge of fiery energy exploded from Blaziken, engulfing the entire battlefield in an intense wave of heat. When the flames cleared, Elesa’s second Emolga lay unconscious on the field, taken down with a single strike.

Elesa’s eyes narrowed as she recalled her fallen Pokémon. She reached for another Pokéball, her fingers brushing against the cool surface, but as she opened it, the realization hit her—she had forgotten she sent Zebstrika to guide the group.

“Best two out of three,” the man teased, a smirk spreading across his face as he noticed her empty Pokéball. “Where’s your Zebstrika? Come on, we’re tied, I know you have one. Unless you sent him to lead the Charizard.”

“I’ll never tell you where they went,” Elesa replied, her voice steady but laced with urgency.

“That won’t be necessary,” the man countered smoothly. “The fact that you still have Zebstrika’s Pokéball means he’ll be coming back to lead us.”

“Why would my Zebstrika show you where they went?” she shot back defiantly.

The man’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with menace. “Because if your Zebstrika doesn’t cooperate, then his trainer might suffer a fatal accident.”

Elesa’s eyes widened in horror as the weight of his threat sunk in. She turned on her heels, adrenaline surging through her veins, ready to run, but Blaziken, enhanced by the R-Gas coursing through its body, was much faster. It lunged forward, gripping her arms tightly, preventing her escape and dragging her along with them.

“No! You can't do… mmph!” Elesa's protests were cut short as the man shoved a piece of cloth into her mouth, silencing her voice.

"Take Elesa and her Pokémon to the van," he ordered his Blaziken, who tightened its grip on her arms. "I'll wait here for Zebstrika to return." He paused, glancing back at her with a smug smile. "Oh, and by the way… I never told you my name, did I? It’s Red Eyes."

He watched her closely, his words laced with a chilling finality, knowing that the fear in her eyes meant he had her right where he wanted. Then, with a cold nod, he sent Blaziken dragging her toward the exit, her muffled cries fading as they disappeared into the shadows.

————————————————————

As the trees swayed gently with the evening breeze, the gang reached the outskirts of Lostlorn Forest. Zebstrika trotted beside them, giving a confident nod.

“Zebstrika!”

“So, just straight through? No turns or anything?” Eclipsa asked, studying the narrow, winding path that stretched into the shadows of the forest.

"Zebstrika," he confirmed with a sharp nod.

With a shared glance, the group moved forward into the forest, following the path Zebstrika had pointed out. As they disappeared into the dense woods, Zebstrika bolted back toward Nimbasa City, his hooves pounding the ground, fast as lightning.

As they moved deeper into Lostlorn Forest, Max’s gaze drifted to his right, his eyes widening as he saw Dialga standing silently among the trees, its presence both imposing and surreal. He quickly turned to the left, his heart skipping a beat as he spotted Groudon in the distance, its intense gaze seeming to bore into his very soul.

Goodra, noticing the tension radiating from Max, gently patted his shoulder. “Goodra?” he asked, his tone soft with concern.

Max jumped at the touch, immediately raising his hands as if to brush off the worry. “Charizard,” he replied, forcing a casual tone as he tried to reassure Goodra, though his anxious glances back at the towering legendaries betrayed his words.

Ahead, Eclipsa glanced over her shoulder at Max, concern etched on her face. “Did you notice anything strange about Max?” she asked Francisco, her voice low to avoid alarming him.

“Well, you did tell him he's a bomb. I think that’d shake up anyone, in my opinion,” Francisco replied.

“No, I mean it’s more than that. He’s clearly seeing something out of the corner of his eye, like there’s something there.” Eclipsa gestured subtly, her gaze shifting back to Max, who appeared increasingly unsettled as he looked back and forth between the trees.

Francisco and Eclipsa exchanged wary glances as the group emerged from the dense forest into a small, secluded clearing. Before them lay a scattering of dark, weathered cabins and rusted trailers—an isolated community hidden away from the world. The structures looked like they’d seen better days, their paint peeling and wood splintered.

Eclipsa took a cautious step forward, her gaze landing on a woman chopping wood nearby. The woman wielded an axe with precision, while a Sandslash beside her slashed through logs with sharp claws, each movement in sync with hers. Taking a breath, Eclipsa approached the woman, hoping for some answers—or perhaps just a sign that they were in the right place.

"Hey there," Eclipsa called out, catching the woman mid-swing. "Do you know where we might find a Zoroark around here?"

The woman paused, eyeing Eclipsa with a smirk. "A Zoroark, huh? You city folk sure you want to meet it?" she asked in a thick southern drawl, chuckling softly.

Francisco stepped forward, calling out, "Elesa sent us here—please."

The woman took one last swing, splitting the log cleanly before walking over to them. She extended her hand, palm up. "That’s fine and all, but if you want my help, there’s a little price."

Francisco nodded, digging into his backpack to pull out 12 Pokédollars and placing them in her hand. She looked to Eclipsa expectantly, and after a brief hesitation, Eclipsa added another 10. The woman gave them a nod, satisfied.

The woman pointed to a trailer perched alone on a hill, away from the other trailers and cabins. "There's an old man who lives up there. He's the one you want."

"Thanks," Eclipsa replied as they made their way out of the small community and up toward the trailer. A faint fog began to roll in, thickening around them as they climbed. Max squinted through the mist, catching a glimpse of Dialga and Groudon fading back into the fog. Their eyes, however, seemed to linger—glowing faintly as if watching him even as they vanished from view. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding.

When they finally reached the trailer, Snivy got up to the door, extending a vine to knock. They waited, but there was no response. The silence only deepened the eerie stillness around them.

Goodra forced a nervous laugh. “Goodra, Goodra!” he chuckled, feigning confidence as he tried to edge away. But just as he turned to bolt, Francisco quickly reached out, grabbing onto Goodra’s tail. His hand slipped a couple of times from the excess slime coating Goodra’s skin—evidence of how nervous the Pokémon truly was.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Francisco said firmly, tightening his grip as he steadied his partner. “We’re in this together, Goodra.”

Goodra let out a reluctant sigh, realizing he wasn’t getting out of it that easily.

Snivy knocked again, and after a long pause, the door opened just a crack. An old man peeked through, his skin pale and wrinkled, a wild, dirty beard framing his face. He wore a heavy, worn-out sweater that looked like it had seen years of use.

“Why are you here?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“Elesa sent us,” Eclipsa replied, meeting his wary gaze.

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What for?”

“We’re looking for a way to get to Neon Town,” she explained.

The man frowned, the corners of his mouth tightening. “Why would anyone wanna go there?”

“We’re looking for someone,” Eclipsa said, her tone firm but respectful.

He stared at them for a moment, considering her words. Finally, he closed the door, the sound of unhooking chains echoing through the silence before he opened it wider, gesturing Francisco and Eclipsa inside, having the others wait.

“So, I’m guessing you need a way to get to the Kanto region?” the old man asked, his gaze steady.

“Yes, but... what about the Zoroark?” Eclipsa replied, curious.

“Zoroark isn’t important,” he said dismissively, glancing out the door at the sinking sun. “It’ll be dark in a few hours. You folks look like you could use some rest. There’s a cabin nearby you can stay in for the night.”

Francisco hesitated. “That’s nice of you, but we’re kind of in a hurry.”

Eclipsa gave him a slight nudge, then turned back to the old man. “A place to sleep would actually be perfect. Thank you.”

The old man returned with a tray of steaming tea cups, offering one to each of them and then moving outside to where their Pokémon waited. He handed cups to Goodra and Snivy, who accepted them with curious looks. Finally, he approached the Charizard, extending a cup carefully. As Max took it, the man subtly pointed to a small note tucked under the cup’s rim. Max adjusted the cup to read the note, his eyes scanning the handwritten words: “Meet me down by the lake.”

“Come on, this way,” the old man gestured through the doorway, leading Eclipsa and Francisco. They followed him along a narrow, winding path toward the cabin. As they walked, he subtly pointed through the hazy fog toward a lake nestled between trees. “There’s a lake down there if anyone feels like going for a swim,” he said, giving a nod in Max’s direction.

“That won’t be necessary,” Francisco replied curtly.

But Max caught the man’s nod, returning a subtle one of his own, understanding the hidden message behind the suggestion.

————————————————————

Zebstrika trotted up to his home, expecting to find Elesa waiting. But the house was eerily dark. Uneasy, he dashed around to his stable, searching—but there was no sign of her. Feeling a chill of worry, Zebstrika used Charge, sparking the lights to life. As they flickered on, he froze, startled to see a man in red and gray—Red Eyes—sitting casually on a stack of hay.

“Relax, Zebstrika,” Red Eyes drawled, his voice calm but cold.

“Zebstrika?” Zebstrika’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Not sure what you said,” Red Eyes smirked, “but let’s get right to it.” He turned on a nearby screen, revealing Elesa tied to a chair, gagged and struggling, her eyes wide with fear.

“Zeeb!” Zebstrika neighed, his heart racing.

Red Eyes leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “Now that I have your attention—where’s the Charizard?”

Zebstrika stood rooted in place, his body tense with dread. Red Eyes, growing impatient, flicked on his radio. "Give her a good punch," he commanded coldly.

“Zebstri!” Zebstrika’s voice rose in desperation as, on the screen, a figure in blue delivered a brutal punch to Elesa’s face. The sound was muted, but the impact seemed to echo in his mind, filling him with helpless anger.

Red Eyes leaned forward, his expression calculating. “Here’s the deal—you lead us to Charizard, and we let her go.” He held Zebstrika’s gaze, the ultimatum hanging heavy in the air.

Zebstrika looked back at the screen, his gaze filled with sorrow as he took in the sight of Elesa’s reddened face after the blow. He then turned slowly toward Red Eyes, his body language shifting in reluctant compliance. With a small, defeated shake of his head, Zebstrika signaled his agreement, willing to do whatever it took to save her.

————————————————————

As the woman stacked logs into the crackling fireplace, her Sandslash lay curled up on the couch, snoozing peacefully. The radio crackled to life, announcing a new alert: a Charizard with a distinctive Team Rocket logo on its wing was wanted, presumed dangerous. She paused, the description bringing Max to mind, and glanced out the window. In the dim evening light, she caught a glimpse of Max strolling down the path toward the lake, the light briefly illuminating the emblem on his wing. Frowning, she moved to the old telephone mounted on the wall, lifting it to report her sighting.

Max arrived at the lake, his gaze settling on his reflection in the still, dark water. Behind him, towering shadows of Dialga and Groudon loomed, their forms blending into his reflection, casting an almost otherworldly presence over him. He tensed, claws glowing faintly as he prepared himself, feeling the weight of their gaze as if they were physically there, watching him.

Suddenly, a quiet footstep behind him broke the silence. Max spun around, claws ready to strike, ready to defend himself from what he assumed were the two legendary figures. But instead, he found himself face-to-face with a Zoroark, who had halted in surprise, a cautious look in her eyes. Zoroark raised a hand, showing she meant no harm, and took a slow step back, observing the tense Charizard in silence.

"Somebody’s tense," she remarked with a sly grin.

Max grunted. "What do you want?"

"I want to know why you smell like Groudon," Zoroark replied, her voice curious yet cautious. "You still have the scent of a Charizard, but... not completely. There’s something else mixed in. Something ancient."

Max shifted uncomfortably, glancing back at the water where the hazy reflections of Dialga and Groudon still lingered, barely visible in the dim light. "You think I know?" he muttered.

Zoroark's gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing as she studied Max with an intensity that made the Charizard uneasy. "Maybe you don’t know," she muttered, "but there’s another scent mixed in, too."

Max sighed, her patience thinning. "Let me guess, Dialga."

Zoroark blinked, taken aback. "You’re kidding?" she gasped, her surprise genuine. "You… you actually know Dialga?"

Max huffed, glancing at his own reflection in "They’ve been… following me. Watching me like I'm some sort of pet.”

"Where?" Zoroark asked, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the surroundings.

Max frowned. "You can't see them—no one can. Not even my friends. I’m the only one seeing them… currently in the water, in my reflection."

Zoroark tilted her head, peering over Max's shoulder to examine the lake’s surface. All she saw was her own reflection beside the Charizard’s—no legendaries in sight. "And you’re saying they’re right there?" she asked, pointing at the water.

Max let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. They’re there."

Zoroark’s gaze softened, her usual sharpness replaced with a rare understanding. "So… they're in your head, and you've got their scent. But how does something like this even happen?"

Max hesitated, his tail flame flickering, a visible sign of the turmoil within. Slowly, he met Zoroark’s gaze. “It was Rocket. They turned me into a bomb… a weapon of mass destruction. My Groudon side fuels the blast, and when I blow up—taking out who knows how many—my Dialga side brings me back, healing me. Over and over.” His voice wavered as he spoke, his anger and sorrow barely contained.

Zoroark studied him quietly. “They stole your life, didn’t they? Turned you into something you never chose to be.”

Max looked down, his shoulders tense. “They did. Took it from me when I was just a Charmander.” Max let out a dry chuckle, his gaze fixed on the water’s surface, where Dialga and Groudon seemed frozen, never once breaking eye contact. “Guess I must be the first Charizard who can’t take the heat.”

Zoroark smirked. “To be fair, your heat just involves fire. Groudon’s heat? That’s magma.”

Max managed a faint smile, though the weight in his eyes lingered. “Yeah, maybe. Still feels like dying.”

The faint crunch of a leaf cut through the quiet, and both Max and Zoroark looked up to see Eclipsa approaching, her expression tinged with concern.

“Can she understand you?” Zoroark asked, eyeing Max.

Max gave a slight shake of his head. “Even if she was listening the whole time, she wouldn’t have a clue what I said.” He turned and walked toward Eclipsa, meeting her by the lake.

“What are you doing out here? Dinner’s almost ready,” Eclipsa said, her eyes studying him. Without a word, Max brushed past her and headed back toward the cabin.

Eclipsa watched him go, then turned to Zoroark, who was still standing near the water. “Is he going to be okay?”

Zoroark’s gaze followed Max’s retreating form, and her voice dropped to a somber tone. Her expression darkened. “Honestly? No. I’ve never met a Pokémon more afraid than him.”

Eclipsa blinked in surprise. “You... can talk?”

“There are a few of us who can,” Zoroark replied calmly. She hesitated for a moment, then continued, “I know you’re aiming for Neon Town, but I suggest you take a detour to Cerulean City first. It’s in Kanto, close enough that it won’t delay you much.”

“What’s there that could help?” Eclipsa asked, wary but intrigued.

Zoroark’s voice softened to a near whisper. “Mewtwo. He’s the only one who might be able to help your Charizard with the power he’s carrying,”

“Do you know where we might find Mewtwo?” Eclipsa asked, her voice barely hiding a hint of hope.

Zoroark paused, glancing back at her. “He’ll know you’re looking for him,” she said simply, a mysterious confidence in her tone.

Before she could ask more, Zoroark turned and disappeared into the shadows of the trees. Eclipsa lingered for a moment, watching where she had been, before finally heading back toward the cabin, her mind swirling with new questions.

Chapter Text

In the habitat, Eva approached Velvet, her E-Necklace softly glowing. The Charizard looked exhausted, her gaze fixated on the same empty corner, clearly troubled. “Eevee,” Eva greeted with a gentle nudge.

“Chari…zard,” Velvet replied, rubbing her eyes, visibly worn out from staying up all night. As the gem on Eva’s necklace glowed pink, she gracefully evolved into Espeon, Velvet allowing her to come closer. The light from Eva’s forehead gem glowed as she connected with Velvet’s mind, their thoughts intertwining.

Through the connection, Eva opened her eyes, her gaze shifting to the same corner—and there, clear as day, stood Dialga and Groudon, finally being able to see them.

"Espeon!” Eva shouted, her voice echoing with shock.

"I don’t believe it… it actually worked!" Grace whispered, awestruck as she observed.

In Velvet's eyes, Dialga suddenly vanished, causing her to tense up, panic rising in her chest. But in Eva’s eyes, Dialga remained—now turning to face her directly. As his intense gaze fixed on her, Eva instinctively stepped back, fear seizing her. Then, without warning, Dialga released a beam of energy, aimed straight at Eva's E-Necklace. Eva tried to dodge, putting every ounce of strength into moving, but her body betrayed her, frozen in time.

Grace watched helplessly as Eva’s body began to spasm, locked in place but clearly struggling. Alarmed, she rushed into the room, Grace tried to shake her out of it. Suddenly, the gem in Eva’s E-Necklace shattered, exploding into shards that scattered everywhere. The burst of energy sent all three of them flying, with Eva thrown violently against the concrete wall.

Oak and Jacob rushed in, alarmed by the explosion. “What happened? Is everyone alright?” Oak asked, scanning the room.

Eva had reverted back to an Eevee, the E-Necklace sparking with residual energy. Without hesitation, Jacob quickly knelt beside her, carefully removing the damaged necklace and tossing it aside.

Grace, catching her breath as she stood, explained, “Eva was testing her psychic ability to see them. It looked like it was working…until.”

“Eevee… eevee…” Eva’s voice trembled, clearly shaken.

Grace glanced at her, nodding in understanding. “She says Dialga forced her out.”

“So, they’re not just hallucinations,” Jacob muttered, looking at Grace and Eva. “They’re actually there, somehow.”

Suddenly, his radio crackled to life, a voice announcing, “Blue Unit, five minutes to Lostlorn Forest, over.” Both Grace and Eva turned to Jacob, Eva’s ears perking up as the message repeated.

Grace looked at him with concern. “What was that about?”

Jacob took a hesitant step forward, clearly reluctant to share what he knew. “It’s about the Charizard… Max. When we uncovered information on Project Tsar, we saw that Max ranked higher than Velvet and the other Charizards. He’s essentially a ticking time bomb.”

Oak’s face twisted with fury, his voice a harsh growl as he interrupted, “I explicitly told you not to tell anyone about that. Those Charizards have already been through enough!”

Jacob’s own anger flared as he shot back, “And as long as that Charizard breathes, millions could die. He’s a risk we can’t ignore!”

Oak’s eyes flashed, his tone ice-cold. “Max didn’t choose this life, Jacob. He’s as much a victim as any of them.”

Jacob clenched his fists. “And neither did that Mienshao, but he managed to get away. Max could trigger devastation on a scale we’re not prepared to handle.”

“At least he’s trying to avoid that scenario,” Oak said sharply, turning to Grace. “Tell him what happened when Eclipsa released him from the Pokéball.”

Grace nodded, her expression somber. “He… he tried to drown himself in the hospital fountain,” she explained. “And that was just from transforming the night before we left Ryme City.”

Jacob looked taken aback. “Wait—why would he do that?”

Grace’s voice tightened as she replied, “Because he was burning, in agony. Can you even imagine that? A Charizard—a fire type Pokémon—trying to snuff out his own flame because the heat was that unbearable.”

Oak’s gaze bore into Jacob, his anger barely restrained. “That’s what this so-called project has done to him. Every day, he lives in a nightmare, and instead of help, you talk about him like he’s nothing but a danger.”

“And he still is,” Jacob muttered. He got up and spoke into his radio. “I’m on my way, wait for me.” As he turned to leave, Grace grabbed his wrist tightly.

“I can’t let you lead a unit to kill Max,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute.

Jacob pulled his hand free, his expression cold. “If you were really serious, Grace, you would’ve made sure I couldn’t walk out of here.” He looked back at her one last time. “And radioed them to stand down yourself.”

With that, he shut the door behind him, the sound echoing through the room like a final, haunting note. Velvet let out a low, mournful cry, her head hanging as she glanced helplessly at Grace, as if begging for a solution neither of them knew how to find.

————————————————————

Max awoke in the middle of what remained of Ryme City, the once-bustling streets now eerily silent under a thick blanket of ash. Everything felt frozen in time, the aftermath of some cataclysmic explosion. He stepped carefully over charred debris, eyes widening as he saw shadows of people and Pokémon etched into walls—ghostly reminders of lives abruptly ended.

“Charizard!” Max's voice cracked as he called out, hoping for any response, any sign of life. His heart pounded, but there was only silence. He moved deeper into the city, his footsteps echoing through the desolation, until he reached the edge of a massive crater. The surrounding area was shattered, like the heart of the city had been ripped out.

Lifting his gaze, he saw the jagged remains of Clifford Industries looming on the horizon. Atop its skeletal frame stood Dialga, silent and still against the grim sky. Max’s breath hitched, but then he noticed another figure: Groudon, towering atop the remnants of Team Rocket Laboratories, where a huge section of the building had crumbled away.

The sight of them both filled him with dread and awe, and for the first time, he truly grasped the magnitude of the power inside him—power that could turn an entire city to ashes.

Max's gaze drifted downward to the heart of the crater, where he spotted a crimson figure writhing in agony. Concern surged through him, and he dashed over, only to halt as he saw the charred, broken body of another Charizard. Its skin was seared away in places, leaving raw, smoking flesh exposed, and a deep wound marred its wing—marked unmistakably with the tattoo MX-469.

Max staggered back, his breath caught in his throat, as the suffering Charizard lifted its head. He found himself staring into his own face, a horrifying reflection twisted in pain and despair. Tears ran down the creature's molten-red eyes, burning trails into its already-scorched cheeks as they fell like molten lava. The sight hit him with the force of a punch, a silent reminder of the agony lurking beneath his own skin.

The charred figure reached a trembling claw toward Max, its voice a desperate rasp. "Chari..." it pleaded, raw pain evident in every syllable. Max’s heart raced as he stumbled backward, climbing frantically out of the crater. As he tried to escape, a sharp, searing sensation jolted up his arm—one of his own claws was glowing intensely, burning as if alive with some unknown power.

Suddenly, Max’s vision blurred, and he jolted awake with a scream, his heart hammering in his chest. He scrambled up and burst out of the cabin, barely making it outside before he doubled over, retching onto the cold ground. Inside, the others shot up, startled and worried, glancing at each other as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Max winced, clutching his claw as he noticed thin tendrils of smoke rising from it. The searing heat pulsed through his arm, and blisters had begun to form around the claw, the skin red and raw. He stifled a gasp, biting back the pain as he examined the burn.

“Goodra?” Goodra’s voice was soft and concerned as he approached, his gentle gaze studying his injury with worry. He moved closer, instinctively reaching out to make sure he was alright.

“Chi… Charizard,” Max mumbled, trying to hide his hand, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

"Max, what happened?" Eclipsa asked, her eyes widening as she caught sight of his injured claw. She approached slowly, careful not to startle him, and gently took his claw to get a closer look. Her face tightened with concern as she realized it was a burn—scorch marks running across the blistered skin.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, trying to reassure him. "We’ll figure this out. You’re not alone in this."

Max's eyes shifted away, unable to mask the pain and confusion. “Char?” he murmured, his voice heavy with uncertainty.

“I know,” Eclipsa said, her tone both comforting and firm. “This shouldn’t be happening to a fire-type like you. But we’re here to help, and we’ll fix this. That’s why we're here.”

She could see the pain mingling with anxiety in Max’s eyes, his usual resilience faltering. Just then, Francisco rushed out, alarmed by the commotion.

“Get the Hyper Potion!” Eclipsa called over her shoulder, urgency sharpening her voice. Francisco nodded without hesitation, sprinting back inside to retrieve the medicine,l before getting to them.

As Francisco finished spraying Max’s wound with the Hyper Potion, Goodra tugged on his shoulder, nodding toward a figure approaching the campsite. Red Eyes strode in with a smug expression, his Typhlosion and Blaziken flanking him like silent sentries. Francisco and Eclipsa exchanged cautious glances, sizing up the intruder, while Max, tense and wary, kept his wing folded tightly, hiding the tattoo.

“Who are you?” Francisco asked, his voice edged with suspicion.

“Name’s Red Eyes. I see your Charizard’s not doing too well.” His gaze lingered on Max, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“That’s none of your concern,” Eclipsa replied coldly, stepping protectively closer to Max.

Without warning, Typhlosion unleashed a Flamethrower. Max instinctively leapt in front of the group, bracing himself and activating Endure to shield them. As the flames subsided, Red Eyes chuckled, catching a glimpse of the serial number on Max’s wing.

“Bingo,” he murmured with a grin, the sight confirming his suspicions. “Get him,” Red Eyes commanded, and Typhlosion and Blaziken lunged forward. Max and Goodra braced for the attack, preparing to defend, when suddenly, thick vines shot out from the ground, twisting around Typhlosion and Blaziken, trapping them in place with a powerful Grass Knot.

Everyone turned, startled, as Servine and Zoroark emerged from around the cabin. Eclipsa’s eyes widened, recognizing the newly evolved Servine. “Snivy? Is that... you?”

Zoroark nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. “She wanted to evolve so she could do more to help out. We’ve been training for a while now.”

Servine gave a determined nod, her gaze fixed on the restrained opponents. Eclipsa smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude and admiration for her loyal friend.

Before anyone could react, the deafening sound of helicopter blades filled the air. A helicopter emblazoned with the PIA logo landed by the lake, and six agents, each flanked by their Pokémon, leapt out and formed a perimeter around the group. Tension rippled through the air as everyone realized they were surrounded.

One of the agents, a man with a stern expression and a Hawlucha at his side, stepped forward and barked, “Show us your wings, Charizard!”

Max hesitated, a flicker of fear and confusion in his eyes, but slowly lifted his wing, revealing the serial number. The agents exchanged nods before, in a swift motion, they all raised their guns, aiming directly at him.

“Char?” Max’s gasp was laced with disbelief.

“Wait—what are you doing?” Francisco stammered, stepping forward in shock.

Goodra let out a distressed cry, “Goo!”

Eclipsa held her hands up, trying to defuse the situation. “There must be some kind of misunderstanding. Max isn’t a threat!”

The lead agent didn’t waver, his voice cold and authoritative. “I need you all to step away from the Charizard. Now.”

Servine hissed, her vines twitching as she defiantly positioned herself between Max and the agents, her gaze fierce. “Servine!” She called out protectively, ready to defend her friends no matter the cost.

Red Eyes’ expression darkened as he took a step forward, his Typhlosion and Blaziken freed from the vines and ready for action. "I'm sorry, but you're interrupting my mission," he said with irritation.

One of the PIA agents, a woman with a Heracross by her side, raised an eyebrow. "And just what mission would that be?"

Red Eyes shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'm here to capture him. Maybe we can work together?"

Another agent, standing with a Poochyena at his feet, shook his head firmly. "We’re not here to capture him."

Red Eyes laughed, glancing back at the group as if expecting them to share in the joke. “Come on, you’re not seriously here to kill him, are you?” But the stern expressions of the agents told him otherwise, and his smile faltered. "Wait, you're actually serious?"

Eclipsa’s face tightened as she stepped protectively in front of Max. “You can’t kill him. He didn’t choose any of this.”

The lead agent’s gaze was unwavering as he addressed her, his tone icy. “I’m not asking again. Move away from the Charizard. Now.”

Francisco turned to the lead agent, masking his urgency with a calm request. "At least let us say goodbye first."

The agent eyed them with suspicion but relented. "Fine, but make it quick."

They gathered close, speaking in low voices. Francisco motioned subtly toward an opening in the treeline. "See that clearing over there?" They all glanced in the direction he pointed. "Max, you make a run for it through there. Servine and Goodra, you’ll hold the agents off. Zoroark, think you can handle Typhlosion and Blaziken?”

Zoroark gave a confident nod. "I'm more than capable. Red Eyes wants Max alive, so I'll see if I can lead those two away and get them to distract the agents."

Eclipsa surveyed the agents’ Pokémon — Heracross, Poochyena, Hawlucha, Druddigon, Applin, and Pangoro. “That’s only five against six.”

Zoroark smirked. “If Max makes a break for it and we handle the other five, that only leaves Hawlucha to go after him.”

Max glanced at each of them, a determined glint in his eyes. “Charizard,” he affirmed, steeling himself for the escape.

Francisco extended a hand to Zoroark. “I’m Francisco, by the way.”

"Zoroark." They shook hands briefly, sharing a moment of mutual respect. With final nods, each prepared for the plan to unfold, tension thick in the air as they positioned themselves for what could be Max’s only chance.

“Servine!” With a swift flick of her tail, Servine unleashed a swirling Petal Blizzard, momentarily blinding the agents and Red Eyes' Pokémon. Taking their cue, Max, Francisco, and Eclipsa bolted toward the treeline. Druddigon lunged to intercept, but Zoroark sprang forward, landing a powerful Sky Uppercut that sent Druddigon staggering back.

The agents quickly fired their guns, but the three had already disappeared into the woods.

"Hawlucha, go after him!" the lead agent commanded.

“Hawlucha!” With a fierce cry, the Pokémon took to the air, racing after Max, his silhouette barely visible between the trees.

Red Eyes frowned, releasing his Voltorb. "Get me that Charizard, and I want him alive." The Voltorb floated up and, with a burst of energy, sped off into the forest, weaving between branches with alarming speed.

Pangoro charged at Servine with a powerful Tackle, pinning her to the ground with its overwhelming strength. Servine struggled beneath the weight but quickly spat a stream of Gastro Acid directly into Pangoro's face. The substance sizzled and smoked, causing Pangoro to roar in pain and stagger backward, clawing at its eyes.

Meanwhile, Goodra darted and weaved through the battlefield, narrowly avoiding consecutive Tera Blasts fired by Applin. One blast struck a tree near Goodra, splitting it clean in two. Taking advantage of the moment, Goodra ducked low behind the fallen trunk and inhaled deeply, releasing a searing Dragon Breath. The beam of energy hit Applin square in the face, sending it spiraling back, its attack momentarily disrupted.

Druddigon roared ferociously, its claws gleaming with the metallic sheen of Metal Claw as it swung relentlessly at Zoroark. The dark fox Pokémon narrowly dodged each powerful swipe, moving with calculated agility. She conjured a series of Illusions, creating multiple copies of herself darting around Druddigon, further disorienting the dragon.

Growling in frustration, Druddigon lunged at one of the illusions, only for its claws to pass through thin air. Taking advantage of the opening, Zoroark leaped forward, her claws glowing with an eerie sharpness as she landed a precise Hone Claws strike across Druddigon's rough scales. The dragon staggered back, snarling as the illusionary copies closed in again, each one taunting it with precision and speed.

"I got you," Druddigon's trainer declared, her hands steady as she swapped out the bullets for tranquilizer darts. With precision, she fired a couple of shots into the flurry of Zoroark and her illusions. The darts struck true, but not before Zoroark managed to retreat a few steps, her movements faltering as the tranquilizer began to take effect.

Druddigon seized the moment, roaring as it charged forward, its tail glowing with raw power. With a sweeping Dragon Tail, the force shattered Zoroark's illusions like glass, sending her hurtling into a nearby tree with a heavy thud.

The dragon advanced on what appeared to be a dazed and sleepy Zoroark, the trainer smirking in triumph. But as Druddigon closed in, the illusion dissolved, revealing the real Zoroark crouched behind it. She gripped the darts she had plucked from herself and, with calculated precision, stabbed them into Druddigon's neck.

The dragon recoiled, its jaws parting for a Bite, but its movements grew sluggish. A guttural growl turned into a weak whimper as its eyes drooped, and it toppled forward. Druddigon collapsed mere inches from Zoroark, succumbing to the tranquilizers. Breathing heavily, Zoroark pushed herself to her feet, her fierce eyes fixed on Red Eyes.

Poochyena lunged at Typhlosion, its form a blur as it unleashed Play Rough, kicking up a thick cloud of dust around them. Growls and the clash of claws echoed from within the haze, leaving both trainers and Pokémon outside the cloud unsure of who had the upper hand.

Meanwhile, Heracross charged at Blaziken with a glowing Megahorn, the sharp energy of the attack aiming straight for its opponent. But Blaziken was faster. It ducked just in time, the horn narrowly missing its head. With a fluid motion, Blaziken grabbed Heracross by the horn, pivoted, and used its immense strength to flip the beetle-like Pokémon over its shoulder.

Heracross slammed onto the ground with a resounding thud as Blaziken followed through with a powerful Body Slam, pinning Heracross momentarily. The battlefield erupted in chaos as the dust settled, revealing the intensity of the skirmish.

Zoroark moved like a shadow among the chaos, weaving her illusions seamlessly to confuse and disarm the agents. She slipped behind each one unnoticed, switching out their bullets for tranquilizer darts. Before they could realize the trickery, Zoroark turned their own weapons against them, firing the darts with precision. One by one, the agents collapsed, succumbing to the tranquilizers as their Pokémon fought on unaware.

Meanwhile, Servine found herself struggling as Pangoro's massive hands gripped her tightly. With a fierce growl, Pangoro spun Servine through the air with a Circle Throw, her small frame spiraling like a rag doll. Just as she was about to crash into the ground, Goodra dashed forward, bracing himself with a glowing Endure. He caught Servine in his arms, shielding her from the impact.

Goodra gave a reassuring look to the dazed Servine, his determination unshaken as the battle raged around them.

Pangoro roared as it charged at Goodra and Servine with relentless force. Goodra quickly and gently laid Servine behind him, shielding her from the oncoming attack. With a swift motion, he summoned a torrent of Muddy Water, splashing the viscous liquid into Pangoro’s face, blinding it momentarily. Taking the opportunity, Goodra carefully moved Servine out of harm's way.

As Pangoro wiped the mud from its eyes, Zoroark emerged from the chaos, striking with a sudden Sucker Punch that forced Pangoro to stagger. However, the tough Pokémon didn't falter. Zoroark, undeterred, drew a tranquilizer gun she'd confiscated earlier and unleashed a full magazine into Pangoro’s side, the darts embedding themselves into its thick fur.

Goodra followed up immediately, firing a powerful Water Gun, pushing Pangoro back with the force of the stream until it collided with a tree. Pangoro struggled against the combined assault, its knees trembling under the weight of the tranquilizers and exhaustion. With a final groan, it slumped against the tree, fainting at last.

Goodra and Zoroark exchanged nods, their teamwork proving victorious.

The dust cloud turned an ominous shade of red as flames erupted from within, sending shockwaves across the battlefield. Poochyena was hurled out of the chaos, landing hard on the ground, smoke rising from its singed fur as Typhlosion's Eruption roared in the distance. Blaziken followed up with Double Kick, landing a brutal strike that left Poochyena unconscious.

Nearby, Servine struggled to her feet, her body trembling from the intense battle. Goodra moved protectively in front of her, both of them resolute and ready to continue the fight despite their exhaustion.

Meanwhile, Zoroark capitalized on the distraction. She darted through the battlefield, her movements swift and precise, taking aim with the tranquilizer gun. With her last shots, she carefully targeted the opposing Heracross, firing off a series of tranquilizer darts. Heracross staggered, its strength faltering as the sedative took effect, and it collapsed onto the ground.

With Heracross subdued, the battlefield fell eerily quiet. All the agents and their Pokémon were now either tranquilized or fainted, leaving only Eclipsa’s group and Red Eyes’ team standing. The tension in the air was palpable as the two sides locked eyes, the final showdown imminent.

"Look at you three, all willing to protect your friend," Red Eyes sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Don’t you realize that Rocket won’t stop until they get that Charizard? You’re just delaying the inevitable!”

Zoroark stepped forward, her illusions shimmering faintly in the fiery glow. She turned her head slightly to Goodra and Servine, her tone firm and resolute. “I’ll hold them off. You two, go. Get out of here while you can.”

Goodra hesitated for a moment, his expressive eyes reflecting concern, but Servine tugged at his arm. “Servine,” she said softly, her voice urging him to move.

Goodra gave a reluctant nod, his tail drooping slightly. “Goo…” he murmured, his gratitude evident in his tone.

“You’re welcome,” Zoroark replied with a sly smile, her focus already shifting back to Red Eyes and his Pokémon.

Servine and Goodra turned and began making their way through the battlefield, weaving through the debris and fallen enemies. Behind them, Zoroark stood tall, ready to face whatever came next, her fiery determination unwavering.

Max sprinted through the dense forest, the sound of his labored breathing blending with the crunch of leaves and snapping branches beneath his claws. Eclipsa and Francisco ran close behind, their steps quick and deliberate as they tried to keep pace. Out of the corners of his eyes, Max caught fleeting glimpses of Dialga and Groudon, their towering forms seemingly manifesting between the trees for only a split second before vanishing. Their haunting presence sent shivers through his spine, clouding his focus.

Above the chaos, a sharp hum broke through—the unmistakable sound of an attack. Voltorb launched a Charge Beam, the crackling energy slicing through the forest with ruthless precision.

“Get down!” Eclipsa shouted, grabbing Francisco and pulling him into a crouch as the beam cut perilously close overhead, scorching the treetops.

Max, distracted by the flickering images of the legendary Pokémon, didn’t react in time. The Charge Beam struck him squarely in the side. A pained roar escaped his throat as the impact sent him tumbling down a steep hill. He hit the ground hard, rolling uncontrollably over roots and rocks until he came to a stop at the bottom, gasping for air as the force of the fall knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Max!” Eclipsa cried out, scrambling to the edge of the hill.

Francisco peered down, his face pale with worry. “We have to get to him before they do!”

Max groaned, struggling to push himself up. His vision blurred, the forest spinning around him as phantom images of Dialga and Groudon lingered in his mind, their oppressive forms a weight on his chest.

Francisco and Eclipsa carefully navigated the steep hill, their movements cautious as loose soil and rocks slipped beneath their feet. “Hang on, Max, we’re coming!” Eclipsa called out, her voice steady despite the growing urgency.

As they neared him, the sharp cry of Hawlucha rang out above them. The Pokémon swooped down at incredible speed, its claws glowing with a menacing light.

“Max, look out!” Francisco shouted, but it was too late.

Hawlucha’s Hone Claws raked across Max’s side just as he struggled to rise. The Charizard let out a roar of pain, collapsing back onto the ground as fresh scratches marred his already battered form.

“Get away from him!” Eclipsa yelled, her hand instinctively reaching for a large stick.

Francisco threw himself in front of Max, his stance protective. “You’re not taking him!”

Hawlucha circled above, preparing for another strike, its piercing red eyes locked on the weakened Charizard.

Voltorb hovered menacingly above the trio, its electrical energy crackling in the air as it prepared to strike.

Eclipsa swung a sturdy stick at it, attempting to drive it back. "Stay away from us!" she shouted, her voice trembling but determined. The Voltorb buzzed, dodging the strikes with ease.

Meanwhile, Francisco knelt beside Max, slipping an arm around his injured friend to help him stand. “We’ve got to move, Max. Come on!”

Suddenly, Voltorb unleashed its stored electricity in a brilliant, crackling Charge, aiming directly for the group. Max’s sharp gaze darted between Voltorb and Hawlucha, who was diving down in tandem for an attack.

In a split-second decision, Max grabbed Eclipsa and Francisco, yanking them out of the bolt’s path. The electricity veered off course, hitting Hawlucha instead. The bird Pokémon cried out in shock as it was thrown back, crashing into the dirt.

Seizing the opening, Max turned toward Voltorb, his eyes blazing. With a guttural roar, he unleashed a fiery Flamethrower, the scorching flames engulfing the floating Pokémon. Voltorb shrieked, its surface blackened with burns as it wobbled mid-air, trying to retreat.

Before it could escape, a jet of water struck it with precision. Goodra emerged from the shadows, using Water Gun to douse the Voltorb. The sudden temperature extremes caused the Pokémon to screech and fizzle, sparks flying erratically as it spiraled to the ground, rendered immobile.

Eclipsa and Francisco looked up at Goodra, their relief palpable. “Good timing!” Francisco panted.

Goodra nodded, his expression determined. “Goo!” he growled, positioning himself defensively in case of another attack.

“We need to move, now!” Eclipsa urged, her voice firm as she pulled Francisco and Max along. The trio dashed away from the secluded clearing, disappearing into the forest.

Back at the battlefield, Typhlosion and Blaziken lay motionless on the ground, their flames extinguished. Zoroark approached Red Eyes with slow, deliberate steps, her crimson gaze locked onto him. Red Eyes scrambled backward, his breath hitching as Zoroark loomed over him.

Before he could escape, Zoroark lunged, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against a tree. “Who sent you?” she growled, her voice low and menacing.

“You’re… choking me,” he gasped, clawing at her grip.

“Talk, human!” she barked, tightening her hold.

“Team Rocket! They sent me to capture that thing!” he sputtered, his face pale with fear.

“Why?” Zoroark demanded, her claws pressing slightly deeper.

“I don’t know! Pokémon Pinchers don’t ask questions, we just follow orders!”

Zoroark’s eyes narrowed. “How much are they paying you?”

“Sixty thousand… just let me go!”

With a snarl, Zoroark released him, letting him crumple to the ground. Red Eyes coughed and gasped, clutching his neck as he tried to catch his breath. Zoroark didn’t give him another glance. She scooped up Typhlosion’s and Blaziken’s Pokéballs, capturing the fainted Pokémon before tossing the balls onto the ground beside him.

“They scammed you,” Zoroark remarked coldly, watching Red Eyes struggle to compose himself.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“That Charizard is worth far more than what they told you,” she said sharply. “Have you ever bothered to look at those leaked documents?”

“I’ve heard of them but didn’t care to look,” he admitted, rubbing his neck.

Zoroark crossed her arms, her gaze piercing. “You already know his serial number. Maybe you should dig deeper into what they really want you to capture. You’re nothing more than a pawn in their game.”

Red Eyes looked at her, unsure whether to feel insulted or alarmed.

Zoroark leaned closer, her voice dangerously low. “Now get out of my forest.”

He hesitated, then grabbed his Pokéballs, his hands trembling slightly. Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the dense trees, leaving the clearing behind.

Zoroark watched until he was out of sight, her crimson eyes narrowing before she turned and vanished into the shadows.

As the gang reached Marvelous Bridge, they began crossing cautiously, the wind from the water below whipping around them. Hidden in the bushes nearby, Zebstrika stood silently, his ears twitching at the crackle of an earpiece.

Blue Eyes' voice came through, cold and commanding. “Don’t lose the Charizard. Follow him at a safe distance.”

“Zebstrika?” the Pokémon questioned hesitantly, his voice betraying unease.

“Elesa will be released once you’ve done your part,” Blue Eyes replied firmly. “Now go.”

The earpiece clicked off. Zebstrika stared at the bridge ahead, his gaze shifting to the gang as they walked together. His hooves shuffled against the dirt, hesitation clear in his movements.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Zebstrika took a deep breath and stepped out of the bushes, keeping to the shadows. His electric mane crackled faintly as he began following the group, maintaining a careful distance as they crossed to the other side of the bridge.

————————————————————

In the PIA meeting room, the atmosphere was tense as Jacob entered, his footsteps echoing slightly against the floor. Goodshow sat at the head of the table, his expression somber, while Ash leaned forward, his Pikachu sitting calmly by his side. Across from them, Everett adjusted his E-Necklace, the device catching the light and momentarily drawing Pikachu’s curious gaze.

“Eevee,” Everett murmured softly, sensing the tension.

Jacob placed a calming hand on his Pokémon’s head as he took a seat. “It’s fine,” he reassured Everett, before turning his attention to the others. “Care to explain why I’m here?”

Goodshow sighed heavily. “We’ve suffered two significant losses. Mienshao escaping custody, and you sending a unit to kill a Charizard.”

Ash cut in, his tone direct. “I need to know why you did what you did.”

Jacob hesitated before replying. “It’s because of Project—”

“Tsar,” Ash interrupted. “Yeah, Grace already told us about it.”

Goodshow leaned forward. “We understand that your intentions weren’t malicious, but this Charizard is being hunted, and he needs protection. We need to bring him in to uncover exactly what Team Rocket did to him.”

Jacob’s expression hardened. “And what about his powers? What happens if he’s a danger to everyone around him?”

“We’ll figure that out when the time comes,” Ash responded firmly. “Right now, I need you and Grace to return to Ryme City and find out what Team Rocket Laboratories is planning next.”

Jacob scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You want me to go back there?”

“Yes,” Ash confirmed with a nod. “Don’t worry about the Charizard. I have someone capable of finding him and hopefully bringing him in.”

“And what if there’s no other option?” Jacob pressed, his tone sharp.

Ash hesitated, his expression clouded with uncertainty. Goodshow stepped in, his voice steady but grave. “If killing is the absolute last resort, then yes. But until that time, the Charizard is off your hands. Do not pursue him.”

Jacob opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, his reckless actions weighing heavily on him. Finally, he pushed his chair back and rose to leave.

As he reached the door, Ash’s voice stopped him. “I’m sorry about your Houndoom.”

Jacob froze for a moment, his hand resting on the door handle. Without turning back, he opened the door and walked out, his silence speaking louder than words.

Chapter Text

The sun struggled to pierce through the dense haze enveloping Black City. Shadows dominated the streets, cast by dark, towering skyscrapers crowded together so tightly that even the narrowest beams of light couldn’t break through. Below, the streets were alive with movement—humans and Pokémon alike creating a chaotic flow of energy. The only vehicles allowed in the city were emergency ones, weaving through the sea of bodies with measured urgency.

The gang emerged from a subway station into the bustling streets. Max’s gaze darted nervously between the crowd and the buildings, his claws twitching slightly as an ambulance wove through the throng, its siren muffled by the oppressive urban noise. Eclipsa led the group across the street to a small, nondescript inn nestled between larger, more imposing buildings.

Inside, the fluorescent lights flickered faintly as Eclipsa slid several crumpled bills across the counter to the man working the reception desk.

“How long will you be staying?” the man asked, his voice disinterested, his attention half on the tiny screen beside him.

“Just for tonight,” Eclipsa replied. The man handed her a keycard, then passed another one to Francisco.

“25th floor, room 2507,” he said without looking up.

“Thanks,” Eclipsa said, nodding before leading the group toward the elevator.

As they walked, Francisco noticed Max lingering behind. The Charizard stood in the doorway, staring across the street at a sleek, black-tinted glass building. The reflections of Dialga and Groudon flickered in the windows, almost taunting him.

“Max, you coming?” Francisco called out, breaking the trance.

Max’s wings twitched slightly. “Char,” he rumbled, nodding before jogging to catch up with the group. The three disappeared into the elevator, leaving behind the noise and shadows of the crowded street below.

In the quiet room, Eclipsa spread out a map of Unova on the table while Francisco unfolded one of Kanto beside it. The two pored over their respective maps, marking potential routes and places of interest. Max, meanwhile, made his way to the fire pit bed in the corner of the room. He settled down with a heavy exhale, finally allowing himself a moment to rest.

However, his moment of peace didn’t last long. Max’s tail flame flickered oddly, the usual warm orange shifting to shades of blue and then to a red. Alarmed, he stared at the change, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t shake the unease that crept into his chest.

Eclipsa noticed his troubled expression and set down her pen. “I think we need a drink,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “Something to calm our nerves.”

“Servine!” Servine chimed in, her excitement clear.

Francisco looked up from the maps and turned to Goodra. “Hey, mind getting some ice?”

“Goo,” Goodra replied cheerfully, picking up the small plastic tub from the dresser and waddling toward the door headed downstairs.

Eclipsa glanced at Max again, her expression softening. “We’ll figure this out,” she said reassuringly. “You’re not alone in this.”

Max nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the flickering flame at the tip of his tail. The colors shifted again, but this time he chose to focus on the warmth, grounding himself in the present.

The elevator door opened with a soft chime, and Goodra stepped into the hallway. The polished floors and warm lighting gave the space a calm atmosphere as he made his way past the indoor pool. The gentle sound of water rippling and muffled voices from nearby rooms filled the air.

Goodra reached the vending and ice machines tucked into a small alcove and began filling the tub, the cool clinking sound echoing in the quiet. As he worked, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention—a flash of movement outside the window.

Goodra turned his head sharply and saw a familiar figure passing quickly through the shadows. His mind raced. Was that... Bewear?

Hesitating for a moment, Goodra glanced back toward the elevator, unsure if he should alert the others. But curiosity and a sense of duty won out. He set down the ice tub and pushed open the back door to the alley.

The cool evening air greeted him as he stepped outside, the sounds of the bustling city muffled by the tall buildings surrounding the inn. Goodra looked down each end of the alley, his eyes scanning for any signs of movement. At first, there was nothing—just the distant hum of traffic and the faint rustling of garbage in a nearby bin.

Then, a soft metallic creak caught his attention. Goodra tilted his head upward and saw it—a Bewear, climbing the fire escape of the adjacent building with surprising speed and agility.

The Bewear reached the 25th floor and opened a window with ease, the broken lock suggesting it had been tampered with before. She stepped into the hallway silently, her movements purposeful as she made her way to room 2507.

Raising her paw to knock, she hesitated, her expression faltering. Doubt and regret clouded her face as her gaze lowered to the floor. Shame and guilt weighed heavily on her, rendering her unable to take the next step.

Before she could retreat, movement caught her attention. Her head turned to see Goodra in the hallway, the ice tub in hand, his chest heaving as if he'd rushed back up the stairs. He froze in place, his wide eyes filled with disbelief, and the tub slipped from his hands, crashing to the ground and spilling ice across the floor.

"Goodra?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Bewear..." she replied softly, caught off guard by his presence.

Without hesitation, Goodra lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. Tears streamed down his face as he held her close. "Goodra," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

Bewear stood stiffly at first, her own emotions threatening to overwhelm her, before finally relaxing into the hug, her paws resting gently on his back. "Bewear," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Goodra hurriedly opened the door, his urgent movements catching everyone’s attention. “Goodra! Goodra!” he called, his tone insistent and full of emotion.

Francisco glanced up from the map on the table, his eyes widening in shock. “Bewear? Is that really you?” he asked, rising to his feet.

Bewear hesitated in the doorway, her expression guarded. She didn’t respond, even as Goodra gently tried to usher her inside. Max, resting near the fire pit, narrowed his eyes, his tail flickering as he studied her carefully, unsure if she was friend or foe.

Francisco crossed the room in a few quick strides and wrapped Bewear in a tight hug, his voice trembling. “I can’t believe it,” he said, overwhelmed by her presence. His mind raced with countless questions, but the words refused to form, the sheer surprise leaving him momentarily speechless.

“Where have you been?” Eclipsa asked, her voice firm but not unkind, as she stepped closer to Bewear.

Bewear didn’t respond with words, instead lifting a paw and gesturing for them to follow. Her actions were calm but deliberate, leaving no room for questions.

Eclipsa exchanged a quick glance with Francisco, who nodded, and they all began trailing behind Bewear. The group descended the stairs in silence, the tension palpable as Goodra stayed close to Bewear's side, his concern evident.

Once outside the inn, Bewear paused for a moment, scanning the dimly lit street before leading them toward a quieter area. Max followed cautiously, his eyes never leaving Bewear, still unsure of her intentions.

————————————————————

Five years ago, night descended on Ryme City, casting shadows over chaos and destruction. The skyline was ablaze with burning buildings, their flames licking the heavens as thick smoke clouded the stars. Sirens blared endlessly, their haunting echoes ricocheting through the city as emergency lights painted the scene in red and blue.

On a quiet hillside overlooking the devastation, a lone Bewear stood, her massive frame trembling. Blood soaked into her pink and black fur—a stark reminder of the life she had mercilessly taken. Her trainer's final moments played on an endless loop in her mind, each memory a dagger of confusion, worry, and guilt.

She clutched the tattered remains of her trainer’s scarf, its once-bright colors now dulled with ash and blood. Bewear’s sharp claws curled around it, her eyes glassy and filled with unspoken anguish. Behind her, the sound of the city in flames was a distant roar, but her grief drowned out all else.

In that moment, she turned her gaze away from the city, her mind racing. There had to be something she could do, some way to atone—but she had no idea where to begin.

Bewear ran down the hill, her massive hind paws pounding against the ground as desperation pushed her forward. In the distance, she spotted a stream of injured people and Pokémon heading into a train station. The area was a flurry of activity—security guards, police, and firefighters worked tirelessly, their voices sharp and urgent as they ushered the wounded onto departing trains. The chaos buzzed around her, but to Bewear, it was all muffled, distant, as if she were moving in slow motion.

She slipped past the fence, her movements deliberate yet heavy with despair. The rhythmic hum of trains roaring in and out of the station filled the air, their gusts causing her blood-streaked fur to ripple. She approached the edge of the rocky surface, her gaze fixed on the tracks. The vibrating rails seemed to call to her, a promise of escape from the weight crushing her spirit.

With trembling resolve, Bewear stepped forward, her paw hovering over the tracks. The cold metal glinted faintly under the station lights as a train thundered into view, approaching fast. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable.

But just as her paw touched the edge, a strong, webbed hand grabbed her arm, yanking her backward with surprising force. The train screamed past, a deafening rush of wind and metal, missing her by inches.

Bewear blinked in shock, looking up to see a Ludicolo standing before her, his chest heaving from the effort. He glanced down at his hand, now smeared with the blood clinging to her fur. His wide eyes softened, and he released her arm gently, stepping back as if to give her space to breathe.

For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence. Ludicolo then extended his hand, palm up, an unspoken invitation. His gesture held no judgment, only quiet understanding.

Bewear hesitated, her body trembling with the weight of her emotions. Finally, she gave a small, reluctant nod and reached for his hand. Together, they stepped away from the edge, neither saying a word as they disappeared into the crowded station, finding solace in each other’s company.

————————————————————

Bewear led the group through the bustling streets to a peculiar, narrow building wedged sharply between two converging roads. Its black exterior formed a triangular shape, and a soft pink light from a billboard atop the structure cast an eerie glow over the surrounding area. The light flickered sporadically, illuminating the cracked pavement and casting long shadows on the nearby walls.

As they entered, the air inside was heavy and tense. The lobby was packed with people and Pokémon, huddled together as if seeking refuge. The atmosphere buzzed with low murmurs, the occasional cough, and the subtle rustle of movement. Some leaned against the peeling walls, while others sat on the floor, their expressions ranging from wary to exhausted.

Eclipsa and Francisco exchanged uneasy glances, instinctively moving closer to one another as the crowded space pressed in around them. Bewear glanced back at them briefly, her eyes steady, before motioning toward a narrow staircase on the far side of the lobby.

Without a word, the group followed her lead, weaving through the clusters of people. The stairs creaked under their weight as they ascended, the sounds of the chaotic lobby gradually fading with each step. Max kept his eyes fixed on Bewear, his tail flickering with uncertainty, while Eclipsa and Francisco remained alert, their movements cautious as they climbed deeper into the strange building.

As they ascended to the 9th floor, the group found themselves in a narrow, dimly lit hallway crowded with people. The air was stifling, filled with quiet murmurs and the occasional creak of worn floorboards. Bewear led the way, her large frame navigating through the narrow space with ease, occasionally nodding to those she passed.

A man leaning against the wall greeted her warmly. “Hey, miss, how are you?”

Bewear paused, offering him a friendly thumbs-up. She rummaged through her bag for a moment before pulling out a shiny red apple and handing it to him. The man smiled in gratitude, nodding as she moved on.

As the group continued, a woman in a vibrant orange outfit, startlingly similar to the shade of Max's scales, brushed past them. She playfully slapped Max on the tail, eliciting a startled yelp. Max quickly scurried to the front of the group, his tail flame flaring slightly in embarrassment. Servine stifled a laugh, while Eclipsa whispered, “You okay?” Max muttered something under his breath and avoided eye contact.

At the end of the hallway, Bewear stopped in front of a worn wooden door. She raised her paw and knocked firmly. A moment later, the sound of a sliding latch echoed, and the peephole cover shifted aside.

“You brought friends?” the woman behind the door asked, her voice cautious but not unkind.

“Bewear,” Bewear replied simply, nodding affirmatively.

“You know them?”

Bewear nodded again, more firmly this time. The woman studied the group for a moment, then opened the door, stepping aside to let them in.

“I’m Silvia,” she introduced herself, extending a hand. One by one, the group shook her hand, exchanging polite greetings as they stepped inside.

The difference was startling. The apartment was clean, bright, and well-furnished, a stark contrast to the grimy, crowded space of the hallway and the rest of Black City. Plush rugs covered the polished floors, and soft lighting illuminated tasteful décor, giving the space an air of comfort and tranquility.

Eclipsa glanced around, clearly impressed. “This is… unexpected,” she murmured, running her hand along a smooth countertop.

“Don’t let the exterior fool you,” Silvia replied with a small smile. “You’d be surprised what a little effort can do.”

Max lingered near the entrance, his gaze flicking between Silvia and the apartment, still unsure if he should let his guard down. Francisco, however, couldn’t hide his curiosity.

“This place feels like a sanctuary in a city like this,” he said.

“That’s the idea,” Silvia replied. “Now, let’s talk. I assume you didn’t come here just to admire the décor.”

“Well, Francisco and Goodra here know Bewear personally,” Eclipsa began, glancing at Francisco and Goodra.

“Really?” Silvia's gaze shifted to Bewear, who lowered her head, covering her face in shame.

Francisco stepped forward, his tone gentle but firm. “Hey, Bewear,” he started, trying to meet her eyes. “I just want you to know that what happened back then wasn’t your fault. It was the R-Gas—it made you lose control.”

“Bewear,” she responded, shaking her head emphatically. Her paw pointed to herself as she gestured, silently insisting that the blame lay with her.

Goodra, watching her closely, moved to sit beside her. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug, his soft voice breaking the tension. “Goodra, Goodra,” he murmured, reassuring her that she wasn’t to blame. His paw gently patted her back, his affection sincere and unyielding.

For a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of her guilt palpable. Silvia, standing nearby, crossed her arms but didn’t interrupt, her expression softening as she observed the exchange. Bewear’s ears twitched slightly at his words, though her face remained hidden in her paws, conflicted emotions playing out in her posture.

“Remember what we talked about, Bewear,” Silvia said gently, her voice steady but full of encouragement. “You’re not alone in this. Ludicolo and a few others in our group have gone through it too.”

“Others?” Eclipsa asked, her curiosity piqued.

Silvia nodded. “On the rooftop, we hold therapy sessions with Pokémon. Most of them have trainers I can communicate with to support their recovery. But for those without a human partner, I run group sessions three times a week.”

“That’s amazing, helping them like that,” Francisco said, admiration clear in his tone.

“It’s the least I can do,” Silvia replied, a modest smile softening her features. “You’re welcome to stop by if you’d like.”

Outside, Zebstrika reached the 9th floor and began methodically placing his ear against each door, searching. His sharp eyes caught a faint flicker of light—the glow from Max’s tail flame spilling faintly under one of the doors. He pressed his ear against the wall adjacent to the room, straining to catch snippets of their conversation.

“Really?” Francisco’s voice carried a mix of surprise and interest.

“Yes,” Silvia replied. “It could help. There are sixteen members in the group, though only four are from Ryme City because of the Incident.”

“When is it?” Eclipsa asked.

“On the rooftop,” Silvia said, her tone brightening. “Typically in the afternoon, when the sun shines at its brightest. It gives them a little warmth, both physically and emotionally.”

Without warning, a tongue flicked up Zebstrika's hind legs, trailing to his groin. The sudden sensation startled him, causing him to bump against the wall with a muffled thud. He quickly looked down, his startled eyes meeting the sly gaze of a Heatmor, its tongue retreating back into its mouth. The Heatmor rubbed its body against Zebstrika’s belly, growling with an unsettling satisfaction.

Zebstrika froze for a moment, ears twitching at the sound of footsteps coming from inside the apartment. Snapping out of his shock, he bolted around the corner, pressing himself against the shadows just as the door opened.

Servine peeked into the hallway, her sharp eyes scanning for any signs of disturbance. Finding nothing amiss, she shrugged and closed the door behind her.

Zebstrika let out a tense breath, his body still on edge from both the Heatmor’s unwanted attention and his narrow escape.

he hurried to the stairs, his hooves clacking against the metal as he ascended. After climbing a dozen flights, he emerged onto the rooftop, greeted by the soft hum of the city below. The half-lit billboard towering above bathed everything in a dim pink glow, casting long shadows across the rooftop.

Pausing to catch his breath, Zebstrika scanned his surroundings. His eyes fixed on the building across the street—it loomed higher by several floors, offering an unobstructed view of this rooftop. A perfect vantage point for anyone planning to spy.

With a snort of frustration, Zebstrika trotted toward the billboard. Reaching its base, he shook his head, dislodging the earpiece. The tiny device tumbled to the ground, and he used his hoof to nudge it beneath a patch of rusty metal plating. Ensuring it was hidden, Zebstrika stepped back, his ears swiveling as he listened for any movement below.

Satisfied with his decision, he turned his gaze toward the city skyline, conflicted thoughts racing through his mind.

“What was it?” Eclipsa asked, turning to Servine, who stood in the doorway with a curious expression.

“Se,” Servine replied with a small shrug.

“Probably just one of the neighbors,” Silvia interjected, walking over. “This building has plenty of noisy ones—either, fighting, playing too rough or arguing. Happens all the time.” She paused, looking toward the window where dark clouds began gathering. “Anyway, you should probably get going. A storm’s rolling in.”

Eclipsa glanced at the others, nodding. “Alright, thanks for letting us stay for a bit.”

“Oh, and one more thing.” Silvia stepped closer, her tone turning serious. “This place isn’t dangerous per se, but it’s unpredictable. It’ll take more than you think to keep up with it. Watch yourselves out there.”

Francisco gave a small bow of gratitude. “Thank you. We’ll be careful. See you tomorrow, Bewear.”

Bewear offered a small, hesitant wave as Francisco, Eclipsa, Max, Goodra, and Servine made their way out. The door closed behind them, leaving Silvia and Bewear in silence as the storm began to rumble in the distance.

————————————————————

Eva and Everett, two small Eevees, lay curled up beside each other on one of the train's seats, their ears twitching as the rumble of the tracks slowed. Jacob sat across from them, his posture stiff and his eyes fixed on the window. Grace, seated beside him, clutched the strap of her bag tightly, her knuckles pale with tension.

The train slowed to a stop at a station nestled at the bottom of a hill. From their vantage point, they could see the chaos unfolding in the distance: Ryme City, its skyline marred by plumes of smoke.

As the doors opened, Jacob and Grace stood, joining a group of trainers and PIA agents who disembarked on one side of the platform. On the opposite side, evacuees boarded, their faces a mix of exhaustion and fear. The platform buzzed with activity, agents coordinating movements while civilians were ushered to safety.

The group quickly made their way across the station to a skyway leading to a nearby hotel. The once-luxurious establishment had been repurposed into a holding and checkpoint facility. Inside, the grand ballroom had been transformed into a hub of relief efforts. Long tables overflowed with supplies—food, water, medical kits—while agents moved with purpose, distributing aid and directing the flow of evacuees.

“Over there,” Grace said, pointing to a corner of the room where a cluster of PIA agents had gathered. The group followed her lead, weaving through the organized chaos.

Standing among the agents was N, his presence calm despite the tension in the air. His piercing gaze met theirs as they approached, and he gave them a subtle nod, silently acknowledging their arrival.

“Didn’t know you four were coming back,” N remarked, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity as his gaze shifted between the group.

“Special orders from Ash,” Jacob replied, his voice steady but firm. “We’re here to infiltrate Rocket’s labs and gather intel.”

Grace stepped forward, her brow furrowed in concern. “Is Leo and his Lapras here?” she asked, scanning the room as if expecting to see them emerge from the crowd.

N shook his head, his expression turning grim. “I’m afraid not. Leo’s team is stationed downtown. With Rocket’s allies scattered everywhere, vehicles are practically useless. They’ve made sure of it.”

Jacob’s jaw tightened. “Then we’re on our own for now,” he muttered, glancing toward Grace, who nodded in silent agreement.

N studied them for a moment, then added, “Team Rocket Laboratories is heavily guarded. You’ll need more than stealth to get in and out safely.”

Grace raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “What do you have in mind?”

N didn’t hesitate. “Simple. We can get you and Jacob to the square, but any closer and we run the risk of being attacked without warning.”

Jacob glanced at Grace before asking, “With no transportation to use, how long is the walk?”

N sighed, clearly aware of the challenge ahead. “We’re in the suburbs, so it’ll be a 4 to 5-hour walk. But with the conflict ongoing, we’re looking at around three days max to get there safely.”

Grace exchanged a look with Jacob. Three days on foot, through conflict zones, and without reliable transportation—it sounded like an almost insurmountable challenge. But they didn’t have many other options.

“Alright,” Grace said after a long pause, her voice steady. “We’ll make it work.”

————————————————————

At the inn, Max stood by the window, watching the rain pour over the dimly lit streets below. His tail flame cast a faint glow against the glass, flickering like a lantern in the storm. The room behind him was quiet, the others lost in sleep.

Servine stirred, her curled form shifting as her eyes fluttered open briefly. Catching sight of Max, she blinked several times, her curiosity overriding her grogginess. She got up slowly, her movements soft to avoid waking the others.

“Servine?” she whispered, her tone low but questioning.

Max turned his head slightly, his wings tucked close, and gave a small shrug of his shoulders as if to say he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t sleep. Servine gestured toward the door with a slight nod. “Servine,” she urged quietly, her voice almost pleading.

She began to walk toward the door, her lithe form weaving through the shadows of the room. Glancing back, her gaze was firm yet gentle, insisting he follow. Max hesitated for a moment, his claws tapping lightly against the floor, but the resolve in her eyes pushed him forward. Without a word, he followed her into the dimly lit hallway, the sound of the rain their only companion.

Servine extended a vine from her body, leaves sprouting along its length, and used it to shield Max’s tail flame from the rain as they stepped out into the drenched street. The air was cool and heavy, the soft patter of raindrops mixing with distant city sounds. They moved quietly, rounding a block.

“Where are we going?” Max finally asked, his voice low but curious.

“You’ll see,” Servine replied, a hint of mischief in her tone.

They turned a corner, stopping in front of a set of stairs leading down to a small, unassuming bar. The neon sign above the entrance flickered faintly, casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement. Max hesitated, his clawed hand resting on the doorframe. The faint hum of voices and clinking glasses drifted up from below, making him pause.

“I’m not sure about this,” Max said, his wings tensing slightly.

Servine glanced back at him, her expression confident and unwavering. Before he could protest further, her vine wrapped around his wrist and gave a gentle tug. “Come on,” she said with a sly smile. Without another word, she led him inside, the warmth and noise of the bar swallowing them whole.

Servine sipped her beer slowly, her gaze fixed on Max as he tapped his claw against the glass, staring through the frothy liquid. The rain outside blurred the shapes of Dialga and Groudon standing silently across the street, their towering forms watching like unrelenting sentinels.

“Are you still seeing them?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

Max's eyes flicked to the window briefly before returning to his untouched mug. With a deep sigh, he nodded. “I can't stop seeing them...”

“Is that why you can't sleep?” Servine pressed gently, setting her mug down.

Max leaned back slightly, his wings drooping as he stared at his reflection in the beer. “No. Before we left Lostlorn Forest, I had a nightmare.”

Servine tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her sharp gaze. “What kind of nightmare?”

“I was in Ryme City,” Max began, his voice wavering. “It was in complete rubble... everything was destroyed. And they were there. Dialga and Groudon—watching, standing amidst the ruins.”

“Did they destroy it?” Servine asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Max hesitated, gripping the edge of the table as he fought to push the memory back down. “No,” he finally said, his tone almost a whisper. “There was... a crater. In the center I saw myself. I was there—burned, bleeding. I could smell it… the scent of burning flesh… my flesh.”

Servine flinched slightly, her vine tightening around her mug. “Max…” she began, unsure how to finish.

“I don’t know what it means,” Max continued, his voice trembling. “But it felt real. Too real. Like it already happened, or it’s going to.”

Servine reached out, placing a comforting vine on his shoulder. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever it means, we’ll figure it out together. You have us, Max.”

Max finally looked up at her, his exhausted eyes meeting hers. “I hope so, Sniv. I really do.”

“Perhaps, Dialga and Groudon are waiting for…” Servine started to suggest.

“For me to explode and kill millions?” Max cut in, his voice trembling with anxiety. His tail flame flickered erratically, casting sharp shadows on the table.

“No,” Servine replied firmly, though her tone softened as she continued. “Their DNA is in your blood, Max. What if… they’re waiting to help you?”

“Or drain my blood to take it back,” Max countered bitterly, his claws tightening around the mug.

“You don’t know that.”

“And neither do you!” Max’s voice rose, but almost immediately, he caught himself, his eyes widening in regret. “I’m sorry…” he muttered, his head lowering.

Servine stayed quiet for a moment, then reached out, brushing his arm with her vine. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “You have a lot to deal with. Anyone would be overwhelmed.”

Max glanced at her, his shoulders still tense but his breathing beginning to steady. “I just… I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, Servine. One wrong step, and it’s over—not just for me, but for everyone.”

“You told me and the others that you escaped Rocket after spending most of your life there, but you never really talk about it,” Servine pressed gently.

Max stared at the bubbles in his mug, his claws lightly tapping the glass. “I was in a cage. What is there to talk about?”

“Well... how did you meet Velvet and the other Charizards?”

Max sighed, the weight of the memory making his tail flame flicker faintly. He took a long sip of his beer before speaking. “They captured us as Charmanders. Kept us isolated in separate cages until we evolved. Except, they didn’t wait for it to happen naturally—they used a device to force us into Charmeleons. That’s when I met the others. There were 11 of us.”

“Wait, 11 Charizards? I only counted 10, including you, when you introduced me to them,” Servine said, frowning.

Max’s eyes darkened as he set the mug down. “Why do you think we escaped? Their experiments killed one of us. We couldn’t wait for another to fall.” He paused, his claws gripping the edge of the table. “I can still hear their screams... their pain... and mine.”

Servine hesitated, not wanting to push but needing to understand. “How did you escape?”

“I really don’t know,” Max replied quietly, his gaze distant. “Everything’s a blur. One minute we were in those cages, and the next... chaos. I don't remember which one of us led the charge, but it felt like something else was guiding us. Maybe desperation.”

The silence between them grew heavy. Finally, Max stood, his wings stretching slightly. “We should go back. Morning will come soon, and we need to be ready.”

Servine nodded, following him toward the door. “Thanks for sharing, Max.”

Max gave a faint, weary smile. “Thanks for listening.”

Chapter Text

In the bustling Farmer's Market of Ryme City, the sun bathed the scene in a warm glow as children and their Pokémon ran around joyfully, playing a scavenger hunt. Among them, an 8-year-old boy held a crumpled map tightly in his hands, walking confidently beside his Charmander.

“Just one more clue, and we’re totally winning that trophy!” the boy declared with determination.

“Char!” his Pokémon chirped in agreement, his tail flame flickering excitedly.

They approached a booth brimming with colorful candies. The woman behind the counter noticed them and smiled warmly. “Hello there! Where are your parents, young man?”

The boy pointed toward the food court, where his parents sat with their Charizards, enjoying a meal. “They’re over there! So, do you have the next item? I’m doing a scavenger hunt.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” the woman said, rummaging through a small box.

Suddenly, a Jigglypuff appeared from behind the boy and Charmander, its large eyes glinting mischievously as it used Rest. Before they could react, both the boy and Charmander began to sway drowsily. In the same instant, a Team Skull grunt darted in, scooping them up in one swift motion.

A loud explosion erupted nearby, caused by another Team Skull member at a food stall, scattering the crowd in chaos. Smoke and grease filled the air as people scrambled to safety.

“Hey! Stop!” The boy’s parents bolted toward the commotion, their Charizards roaring in alarm. But just as they reached the edge of the booth, a black van screeched into view, the doors sliding open. In a blur, the grunt tossed the boy and Charmander inside.

The van sped off, weaving through the crowded streets. Ten blocks away, the grunts screeched to a halt near a hospital. Without a word, they dumped the boy onto the sidewalk before speeding away, keeping the Charmander captive.

Dazed and frightened, the boy looked around in confusion, tears welling in his eyes as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

Charmander stirred, his small claws twitching as he tried to wake. A muffled melody drifted into his ears, soft but relentless—the familiar lullaby of Jigglypuff. Strapped to his head was a set of headphones, playing the song on an endless loop. Every ounce of his willpower fought against the pull of the music, but his limbs felt heavy, his eyelids drooping no matter how hard he struggled.

His tail flame flickered weakly as his body gave in, collapsing back into slumber.

Time passed—how long, he couldn’t tell—but suddenly, his eyes shot open, panic flooding his senses. Charmander jolted upright, his heart racing as he took in his surroundings. He was in a cage, the metal bars cold and unyielding.

“Char!” He tried to call out, but his voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the sterile walls. His tail lashed nervously against the floor, the faint light of his flame casting dancing shadows. Charmander gripped the bars of his cage, peering around desperately for any sign of escape—or anyone who might explain why he was here.

Without warning, the lights blazed to life, searingly bright like a miniature sun, forcing Charmander to shield his eyes with a claw. The harsh illumination revealed the contours of the room—featureless, save for the faint hum of machines somewhere beyond sight.

A shadow appeared, stepping closer.

A man in a lab coat, his movements erratic with a barely contained excitement, approached the cage. His pale face twitched with anticipation, his glasses reflecting the glaring light. He knelt, peering into the cage with an unsettling grin.

"Ah, you're awake," he murmured, his voice trembling with glee. "A perfect specimen. We'll do great things together, little one."

Charmander growled low, crawling to the far corner of the cage, his flame flaring defensively.

The man chuckled, his head tilting unnaturally. “Oh, don’t be like that. You’ll learn soon enough… resistance is pointless.”

The man reached into a small satchel slung over his shoulder, retrieving a handful of red mushrooms. Their rich, earthy scent wafted through the air, a smell Charmander instinctively recognized. These were the kind of mushrooms fire-types loved—rare and delicious. But one of them stood out.

Among the vibrant red caps was a peculiar mushroom faintly glowing with an unnatural, rhythmic pulse, like a heartbeat in the dim room.

The man slid the mushrooms through the bars of the cage with a practiced hand, then stepped back, watching intently. Charmander hesitated, his flame flickering uncertainly, but hunger gnawed at his stomach. Slowly, he edged forward, sniffing the mushrooms.

One by one, he devoured them, savoring each bite, until he took a single bite of the pulsing mushroom.

Immediately, his entire body seized. Every muscle flexed at once, as if struck by lightning. A surge of unnatural energy shot through his veins, burning hotter than any fire he had ever known. His small claws raked the floor, the cage rattling violently as his body spasmed uncontrollably.

The man’s grin widened. “Yes... fascinating.”

Charmander let out a sharp cry as the glowing energy surged again, his flame momentarily blazing higher. But just as quickly as it had started, the spasms stopped, leaving Charmander panting heavily, his body trembling from exhaustion.

The man crouched, watching every movement with the eyes of a predator. After a long moment, he stood and retrieved the remaining mushrooms, carefully stowing them away.

He turned toward the door, his voice low and unsettling as he left. “Rest well, 469. You’re gonna need it”

The sound of the door locking echoed ominously in the sterile room, leaving Charmander alone, trembling in his cage.

————————————————————

On the rooftop of Silvia's apartment, the group prepared to depart. Silvia busied herself strapping two saddles onto Corviknight's broad back, her movements swift and efficient.

“Thanks for attending the session,” she said without looking up.

“No problem,” Francisco replied with a small smile.

Nearby, Goodra and Bewear hugged each other tightly, their embrace lingering as they said their goodbyes.

“Goodra,” the dragon called out with a warm wave.

“Bew,” Bewear replied softly, waving back as Francisco pulled out a Pokéball. In a flash of light, Goodra was captured.

Eclipsa followed suit, capturing Servine with her Pokéball before retrieving another one. Her gaze shifted to Max. “You ready?”

Max stood a short distance away, leaning against the billboard. His flame-tipped tail flickered nervously, and his eyes were fixed on the rooftop of a neighboring building.

“Charizard,” he responded with a tense nod, though the apprehension in his posture was unmistakable.

Eclipsa walked closer, her tone gentle. “Hey, it'll be alright.”

Max's gaze remained fixed on the distant rooftop, silent. Eclipsa turned to look in the same direction, realization dawning on her.

“I see. You're worried that... they'll appear with you in the Pokéball?”

Max shifted his eyes to meet hers, nodding solemnly.

Eclipsa hesitated, her voice soft but firm. “It’s only temporary. The moment Corviknight lands, the first thing I’ll do is let you out. I promise.”

Max stayed motionless for a beat, his claws lightly tapping the metal behind him. Finally, he stood upright, his posture signaling reluctant agreement.

“Thank you,” Eclipsa said quietly, holding up the Pokéball. She pressed the button, capturing Max in a flash of red light before clipping the two Pokéballs to her belt.

“You and Max seem to have a good bond,” Silvia observed, glancing at Eclipsa as she adjusted the saddles.

“I hope so. I really do,” Eclipsa replied, her hand resting on the Pokéball containing Max. There was a hint of worry in her eyes as her fingers lightly traced the smooth surface.

Silvia gave a reassuring nod. “Corviknight here agreed to take you all the way to Maiden's Peak. The flight will take about six to eight hours, depending on the winds.”

“And from there?” Eclipsa asked, her focus shifting to the massive bird Pokémon.

“Routes 25 and 24 will take you straight to Cerulean City,” Silvia explained. “It’s a bit of a trek, but manageable. Just stay alert—the route can get unpredictable.”

Eclipsa nodded thoughtfully, her hand lingering on the Pokéball. “Thanks for everything, Silvia.”

“Of course,” Silvia said with a smile. “Safe travels.”

Francisco stepped forward, giving Corviknight a pat before climbing onto the saddle. Eclipsa followed, her mind heavy with thoughts of Max and the challenges ahead. Corviknight takes flight, Eclipsa and Francisco holding on to the saddles tightly as they disappear into the cloudy sky.

————————————————————

Mienshao strode into the gym in Mahogany Town, the faint smell of damp wood and sweat lingering in the air. Around him, Team Rocket operatives formed a tight, watchful circle, their movements precise and disciplined. They descended into the lower levels of the facility, the air growing cooler and more sterile with each step.

When they reached the heart of the base, Mienshao entered a cavernous room dominated by a massive tank filled with murky liquid. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, punctuated by the occasional bubble rising to the tank’s surface. The foggy glass concealed whatever lurked within, but the ominous aura was unmistakable.

At the center of the room stood Giovanni, his posture rigid yet calm. He glanced briefly at Mienshao, his sharp eyes assessing him before returning to the tank, his hands clasped behind his back.

“You’re here,” Giovanni said without turning, his voice low and commanding. “Good. You’ll want to see this.”

Mienshao stepped closer, his gaze shifting between Giovanni and the tank. Something powerful—dangerous—was stirring within.

“What is that... thing?” Mienshao asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and unease.

Giovanni smirked, his gaze never leaving the tank. “A fragment of Dialga’s essence. Team Galactic has been busy in their space station, experimenting. They managed to manifest a piece.”

Mienshao’s eyes widened slightly as he took a cautious step back. “Is... is that safe?”

Giovanni chuckled darkly, finally turning to face him. “You’re asking about safety? Coming from someone who transferred their mind into a Mienshao’s body? I’d say your threshold for danger is already questionable.”

“At least I didn’t die,” Mienshao retorted, folding his arms defensively. “That thing could erase everything. We can’t rule a world that gets wiped from existence.”

Giovanni’s gaze snapped to him, cold and piercing, his voice low and dangerous. “Are you questioning my judgment?”

Mienshao hesitated, the weight of Giovanni’s stare pressing down on him. “…No, of course not.”

“Good,” Giovanni said sharply, turning back to the tank. “Because I don’t tolerate insubordination. This fragment isn’t here to destroy—it’s here to ensure our dominion. Learn to see the bigger picture, or you’ll find yourself as expendable as the rest. After all, you are a Pokémon now.”

————————————————————

At the PIA facility, Misty cautiously entered Velvet’s habitat, her Starmie hovering close by, its gem faintly glowing in readiness. Velvet lay curled in the corner, trembling in her sleep, her breath heavy and labored. Misty took a hesitant step closer, her voice soft.

“Velvet?”

Suddenly, Velvet’s tail flame flared brightly, and her eyes snapped open. Instinctively, she unleashed a roaring Flamethrower. Starmie darted forward, erecting a shimmering shield with Protect, deflecting the flames away from Misty.

As the fire subsided, Velvet’s gaze darted between them, her breaths ragged. Slowly, the haze of panic lifted, and she recognized her visitors. She slumped slightly, her body still tense but no longer on the verge of attack.

“I’m sorry,” Misty said gently. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but you were shaking in your sleep. I was worried.”

Velvet exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing a fraction.

Starmie’s glow dimmed as it lowered its guard, while Misty knelt down, her expression filled with concern. “Want to talk about it?”

Velvet looked away, her tail flicking against the floor as she shook her head no. Her gaze drifted to an empty corner of the room. Misty followed her line of sight, her brow furrowing.

“So, it’s true about your visions,” Misty said quietly.

Velvet nodded, her claws tightening slightly.

“Have you… tried talking to them?”

Velvet hesitated, her thoughts clearly racing. Finally, she took a deep breath and stood, cautiously moving toward the corner. Misty and Starmie exchanged uncertain glances but stayed where they were, watching closely.

Velvet stopped a few feet from the space, her shoulders tense. Slowly, she reached out with her voice. “Charizard?”

To Misty and Starmie, the corner remained empty. But in Velvet’s eyes, Groudon loomed, its massive form casting an oppressive heat that made the air waver. The legendary lowered its head, its molten, lava-filled eyes locking onto hers.

Velvet gulped, her voice barely steady. “Charizard?”

Groudon responded with a slow puff of smoke, the heat intensifying for a brief moment. “What’s happening?” Misty whispered, her voice edged with worry.

Velvet’s lips parted as if to reply, but no sound came. She simply stood there, her tail flame flickering erratically as Groudon’s immense presence bore into her mind.

Starmie hovered closer, tapping Velvet gently on the shoulder with one of its arms. Velvet turned sharply, her eyes wide and glowing a molten orange, reminiscent of lava.

“Misty, what’s happening to her?” Oak’s voice rang from the observation room with urgency, before he rushed into the habitat, stopping dead at the sight of Velvet.

Velvet’s breathing came in short, panicked gasps, her claws digging into her face as though trying to soothe the searing pain in her eyes. Her tail flame flared dangerously, casting the room in a fiery glow. With a guttural roar, she stumbled back, barely holding herself upright.

“Starmie, use Water Gun!” Misty commanded instinctively, her voice laced with panic.

Starmie prepared to summon a torrent of water, aiming directly at Velvet, but before it could release the attack, Velvet raised her trembling hands, gesturing for them to stop.

“Charizard…” she rasped, her voice strained and broken but resolute. Her claws trembled as she pressed them to her chest, trying to stabilize herself.

Misty and Oak exchanged a concerned glance as Velvet’s eyes flickered erratically. Despite the agony, Velvet remained rooted in place, her head tilting slightly as though listening to an unseen voice.

“She must be communicating with them,” Oak murmured in astonishment as Misty’s eyes darted nervously around the room.

Velvet let out a low growl, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to form words in her Pokémon tongue. It was a one-sided conversation; Groudon loomed in her vision, speaking a language only it could fully understand. Velvet, desperate to make sense of its cryptic message, could only respond with uncertain guesses and affirmations.

Groudon loomed over Velvet for a moment longer before finally stepping back, releasing its intangible hold on her. Velvet collapsed to her knees with a choked gasp, her body trembling violently. Tears of molten rock streaked down her face, hissing as they hit the ground, leaving dark burn marks on her scales and the floor below.

Oak and Misty rushed to her side, their concern palpable. Misty reached out, placing a comforting hand on Velvet's wing and shoulder, only to recoil instantly as the heat of Velvet’s scales seared her skin.

“She’s burning up!” Misty exclaimed, shaking her hand to cool it down.

Oak knelt in front of Velvet, his face etched with worry. Her unfocused eyes stared blankly at the floor, but her claws moved with frantic urgency. She scratched numbers into the stone, the jagged marks forming a sequence she repeated over and over.

“What is she doing?” Misty asked, her voice filled with both fear and fascination.

Oak leaned closer, studying the numbers Velvet was etching. “It’s a sequence,” he muttered, his mind racing. “It could be coordinates, a code—anything.”

Velvet’s rasping voice interrupted, repeating the numbers in a strained tone, as if trying to solidify their importance. “Char... izard...” Her claws moved mechanically, the sound of scraping stone echoing in the room.

————————————————————

Max opened his eyes, finding himself in a black void. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of a series of numbers flashing in the distance. They moved too quickly for him to count, blurring into a rapid cascade of digits. He turned his head, his pulse quickening as he noticed Velvet and the other Charizards standing behind him. Their bodies were eerily still, their eyes glowing a molten orange as they stared, transfixed, at the numbers.

“Char?” Max called out cautiously, his voice echoing in the emptiness. No response. He approached them, his steps hesitant. He reached out, placing his claw on one of the Charizards’ arms.

In an instant, the void shifted, his vision consumed by a new scene. The Charizard he touched was outside a restaurant, furiously scratching numbers into a brick wall. A group of trainers surrounded him, their voices filled with desperation as they tried to stop him from further damaging the property. The trainers’ hands waved in front of the Charizard’s face, but the Pokémon ignored them, entirely consumed by the numbers.

Max gasped and recoiled, snapping back into the void and stumbling to the ground. He panted, claws digging into the empty surface beneath him. “Charizard…?”

He pushed himself up, shaking his head as he approached another Charizard. Tentatively, he touched her shoulder.

The void melted away once more, this time revealing the sterile, bright interior of a Pokémon Center. The Charizard knelt on the floor, her claws etching numbers into the polished tile with relentless determination. A Bayleef stood beside her, vines wrapping around her arms in an attempt to stop her. The effort was futile; the Charizard continued, oblivious to the world around her.

Max pulled back his claw, his breath catching in his throat as he was thrown back into the void again. He staggered, staring at the glowing-eyed Charizards. “Charizard?”

But there was no answer, only the endless cascade of numbers and the oppressive stillness of the void.

Max turned his head, his gaze drawn to something massive looming in the distance. A tank, enormous and imposing, stood amidst the void. A grotesque, twitching limb was suspended inside, its surface pulsing unnaturally. Thick tubes extended from the limb, siphoning streams of glowing blood into the empty blackness, the liquid disappearing into nothingness.

Max’s stomach churned as he stepped closer. The sight felt unreal, yet the details were disturbingly vivid. His focus shifted, and his breath hitched as he finally noticed them: Groudon and Dialga.

Groudon loomed ominously over the transfixed Charizards, its glowing eyes burning with intensity, casting an eerie light over the scene. Dialga stood beside the tank, its massive form stoic but unsettling. As Max’s eyes roamed over the Temporal Pokémon, something made him freeze.

One of Dialga’s front legs was missing.

Max’s gaze darted back to the grotesque limb in the tank, realization dawning like a thunderclap. That severed limb—twitching, pulsating, and lifeless—was Dialga’s.

His heart raced, and his mind flooded with questions. But the legendaries offered no answers, their imposing forms silent yet filled with unspoken menace.

Before Max could process what he had seen, a sudden pull yanked him back into reality. He landed heavily on the ground, his body trembling. Nearby, the remains of the melted Pokéball sizzled, releasing faint wisps of smoke.

“Max, are you alright?” Eclipsa’s voice was frantic as she knelt beside him.

“Char?” he murmured, his voice hoarse and confused, still trying to ground himself after what he’d experienced.

“Your Pokéball—it was burning up, melting away. Goodra and Servine worked together to force it open and—”

Before she could finish, Max lurched forward, wrapping his arms around her. The sudden hug silenced her, and she froze for a moment before returning the embrace, her hand gently resting on his back.

“It’s okay,” she whispered softly. “You’re here now.”

Max’s tail flame flickered unevenly, a testament to his lingering distress. He tightened his grip on her, as though afraid he might slip back into that dark void at any moment. Eclipsa glanced over at the others, exchanging a concerned look with Goodra and Servine, both standing nearby with worry etched into their expressions.

After a moment, she leaned back slightly, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Come on, we got a Mewtwo to see.”

Max nodded faintly, though the haunted look in his eyes told her he was far from okay.

————————————————————

Ash and Pikachu stood on the rooftop of Silph Co.'s headquarters in Saffron City, the bright sunlight reflecting off the building’s polished windows. Officer Jenny paced impatiently nearby, checking her watch.

“I thought you said he’d be here by noon,” Jenny said, crossing her arms.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ash replied casually.

“Don’t worry? It’s been three hours.”

“Pika!” Pikachu suddenly pointed to the sky, drawing their attention.

A shadow passed over them as a Charizard descended, her powerful wings spread wide, kicking up dust as she landed with a thud. Riding on her back, Kiawe leapt down gracefully, a broad smile on his face as he approached Ash. Without hesitation, the two clasped hands before exchanging a quick hug.

“What’s up, bro?” Kiawe greeted.

“I’m doing well. How are you?” Ash asked, grinning.

“Let’s just say I’ve been keeping busy. Started a little delivery business on the side,” Kiawe said, rubbing his Charizard’s head affectionately. “My old Charizard had to retire, but luckily, I’ve got this girl to take up the mantle.”

The Charizard let out a soft growl, leaning into Kiawe’s touch.

“So, what exactly did you need me for?” Kiawe asked, tilting his head curiously.

“Come inside, I’ll show you,” Ash said, gesturing toward the rooftop access door.

Kiawe nodded, leading his Charizard as they followed Ash inside. Jenny and Pikachu brought up the rear, the faint sounds of the bustling city fading as they entered the building.

They eventually entered a meeting room, its atmosphere tense with anticipation. Kiawe sank into the nearest chair, eyeing a closed file on the table before him. Around the room sat several trainers, some of whom exchanged nods with Ash, clearly recognizing him. Pikachu leapt onto the table and turned on a large TV screen. On it appeared an image of Max, the Charizard with a serial number etched into his wing.

“What is this?” Kiawe asked, his voice low with concern.

“This is Max,” Ash began, glancing at the screen. “He’s a Charizard who needs our help... but he’s also extremely dangerous.”

“Dangerous how?” one trainer asked, their eyes narrowing.

“And what’s with the serial number on his wing?” another added.

“It’s all in the file,” Ash said, gesturing toward the unopened folders in front of them.

The trainers hesitated, then flipped open the files, reading in silence. The more they read, the more their expressions shifted—from confusion to horror.

“That poor thing…” one trainer muttered, shaking their head.

Kiawe, his brow furrowed, finally broke the silence. “Please tell me we’re not…?”

Ash held up a hand, cutting him off. “We’re not going to kill him. That’s not happening under my watch.” He let the words sink in before continuing, “But Max is in a fragile, unstable state. If we don’t act soon, he could explode—literally. Our goal is to capture him, safely, before that happens.”

The room fell quiet again, the gravity of Ash’s words settling over the group. Kiawe clenched his fists, his gaze flicking back to the screen, where Max’s image loomed like a storm waiting to break.

————————————————————

At the lab, Charmander stood in his cage, his stomach growling fiercely as he eyed the pulsating mushrooms in the corner, hunger gnawing at him despite his resolve. Saliva foamed at the edges of his mouth, but he refused to give in.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the same man entered the room. The woman who had been dozing in a chair stirred awake, sitting upright.

“Has he eaten the mushrooms yet?” the man asked, his voice cold and clinical.

“No, Dr. Isha,” she replied. “Ever since the first dosage, he’s refused to eat. I can hear his stomach from all the way over here.”

Dr. Isha turned his sharp gaze toward the Charmander, a calculating smirk forming on his lips. He stepped closer to the cage, placing more of the strange, glowing mushrooms inside. "You’re rebellious, 469. I'll give you that. But this attitude won't last forever."

As if on cue, the door opened again, and a shadowy Ditto slithered into the room, its gelatinous body undulating unnervingly. It slid effortlessly through the bars of the cage, drawing a low growl from the Charmander.

“Unfortunately for you,” Dr. Isha continued, his tone laced with mock sympathy, “if this hunger strike continues, your weakened state will make the next dosage lethal. So, we’ll have to resort to more… direct methods.”

Before Charmander could react, the Ditto lunged at him, its dark, gooey form smothering his mouth and pinning his limbs. He thrashed violently, flames sparking from his tail in desperate defiance, but the Ditto’s hold was relentless.

The woman flinched slightly but kept her composure as she observed. But, Dr. Isha didn’t take his eyes off the struggle.

The Ditto’s tendrils forced a piece of the glowing mushroom into Charmander’s mouth. His muffled cries of protest filled the room as he tried to resist swallowing, but the Ditto tightened its grip, leaving him no choice.

Dr. Isha watched intently, his expression a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. "Good. Let’s see how this batch affects him."

Charmander’s body convulsed as the unnatural energy coursed through him once more. His muscles seized, his flames surged uncontrollably, and his growls turned into pained cries.

The Ditto released him, slithering back out of the cage as Charmander collapsed to the floor, his body trembling, his eyes glowing faintly.

As Isha began to leave the room, he paused at the door, turning to the shadowy Ditto. “I don’t care how full he gets,” he said coldly. “Make sure he eats every last mushroom.”

Charmander, his body still racked with electrified pain, let out a weak growl and tried to crawl away, his claws scraping against the metal floor. The Ditto, unrelenting, gathered all the remaining mushrooms in its gooey tendrils, forcing each one down his throat.

Charmander’s struggles intensified as the energy from the mushrooms surged through his veins, his body spasming uncontrollably. By the seventh mushroom, his stomach was painfully distended, and he felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. Yet there were still six more mushrooms waiting.

“Isn’t treating all the subjects like this just going to make them more rebellious?” the woman asked hesitantly, glancing at Charmander’s trembling form.

Dr. Isha’s smirk returned, a glint of malice in his eyes. “Not if you make them fear you.”

Charmander’s eyes burned a molten orange, trembling with both agony and nausea. As Ditto shoved the final mushroom into his mouth, it clamped down firmly, holding his jaws shut to ensure he couldn’t spit it out. His body convulsed violently, and he tried desperately to retch, but the Ditto tightened its hold, forcing him to swallow the bile that rose in his throat.

By the time the Ditto released him, Charmander collapsed in a heap, gasping for air, his entire body glowing faintly from the excess energy coursing through him. His claws weakly scratched at the floor, his tail flame flickering erratically as the room spun around him.

Dr. Isha watched with a detached curiosity before turning to the woman. “Log his condition. If he survives, increase the dosage tomorrow, and use the Shadow Ditto again if he's rebellious.”

The woman nodded reluctantly, scribbling notes as Dr. Isha left the room, his coat billowing behind him. The Ditto lingered, its unsettling form looming over Charmander as he lay motionless, his glowing eyes filled with fear and exhaustion.

Chapter Text

Charmander stirred awake, his vision blurry and his body heavy as he realized his limbs and tail were strapped down. He turned his head sluggishly to one side, spotting a pair of headphones resting on a table nearby. The Jigglypuff song again, he thought bitterly, realizing they had resorted to the same tactic for what felt like the hundredth time.

On the other side of the room, a faint glow caught his eye—the ominous liquid they’d been pumping into his veins. It had changed over time, evolving from spiked mushrooms to tainted water, and now, the pure, unfiltered substance. His arm twitched with each pulse of the liquid coursing through him, a steady, rhythmic throbbing that sent waves of pain through his body, though he had long since adapted to the stuff.

His tail flame flickered weakly, its usual vibrant blaze dimmed by the relentless strain on his body. How much longer can I survive this? he wondered, the thought weighing heavier than the restraints on his body.

Several scientists entered the room, all clad in hazmat suits, their movements cold. Charmander’s eyes narrowed as one approached him, his patience snapping. He inhaled deeply before releasing a Flamethrower, the scorching blast hitting one of the figures directly. The man stumbled back with a yelp, falling to the ground in a panic as flames briefly licked at his suit.

Charmander chuckled to himself, the sound low and defiant, despite his weakened state. The scientist scrambled to his feet, trembling with frustration. "That's it!" the man barked, reaching for a scalpel from a nearby tray. His hand shook with rage as he loomed over the restrained Pokémon, his intent clear. "This is the last time you pull something like that!" He raised the blade, ready to plunge it into Charmander’s chest.

Before he could act, the woman in another hazmat suit grabbed his arm, her grip firm. "Stop," she said sternly. "We need him alive. I suggest you step outside and cool off."

"Alive?" The man sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "This subject is the worst one. I'll be doing everyone a favor."

Her voice remained calm but unyielding. "Go. Now."

For a moment, the man hesitated, his grip tightening on the scalpel. Charmander laughed again, his grin wide despite the danger, his mocking giggles a direct challenge. The man’s face flushed with anger, but he finally relented, slamming the scalpel back onto the tray with a loud clang. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

The woman sighed and turned her attention back to Charmander, who was still chuckling weakly. "You're lucky you're valuable," she muttered, her tone a mixture of annoyance and pity.

The woman ducked under the table, and a moment later, a series of mechanical clicks echoed through the room. Multiple needles drove into Charmander’s spine, running from his neck to the base of his tail, penetrating deep into the bone. Charmander let out a piercing scream, his body convulsing in agony as the sharp, invasive pain radiated through him. His claws scraped futilely against the restraints as his tail lashed weakly against the table.

Through the haze of torment, he noticed another figure in a hazmat suit rolling in a storage unit. The container’s lid hissed as it opened, revealing eight vials filled with a glowing, molten-red liquid labeled GROUDON BLOOD in bold black text. The sight alone made his heart pound faster, a sense of dread flooding his already panicked mind.

The woman straightened up, holding a sleek device in her hands. She lowered it to Charmander’s chest, positioning it near his heart. Two metal spheres on the device sparked to life, crackling with electricity as they bridged the gap between them. The air grew heavy with static energy.

“Subject 469 is ready for the next phase,” she said coldly, her eyes void of empathy.

“Proceed,” Isha replied from the observation room, his voice laced with clinical indifference.

Charmander thrashed against the restraints, his body instinctively fighting to break free. Panic overwhelmed him as he felt the searing liquid flood into his spine, its unnatural heat spreading like wildfire through his veins. His vision blurred, replaced by vivid flashes of Groudon’s towering figure, molten eyes boring into his soul.

The device over his chest crackled louder, sending jolts of electricity that forced his heart into a frantic rhythm, pounding as though it might burst. His body convulsed, and the glow of evolution began to overtake him. His small frame stretched and grew, claws sharpening and scales darkening as he transformed into Charmeleon. The transition was agonizing, his body struggling to adapt under the overwhelming pressure of Groudon’s blood coursing through him.

Each new injection sent another wave of fiery pain through his body, burning hotter with every pulse. His immune system fought desperately to reject the foreign substance, but immunosuppressants in his bloodstream forced compliance, overriding his natural defenses. Charmeleon’s breath came in ragged gasps, smoke trailing from his nostrils as his body trembled, caught between agony and an unnatural power clawing its way to the surface, causing him to pass out.

Now Charmeleon—stirred groggily, his body sore and heavy. The world felt different; the cage he was confined in was no longer made of cold, unyielding metal, but glass. As his vision cleared, he looked around, eyes narrowing as his reflection stared back at him. His once small, orange form had grown into a much taller, leaner Charmeleon, the scales now darker, glowing faintly with heat.

His gaze flickered to the other cages around him. He wasn’t alone. Other Charmeleons lined the cells, their eyes hollow and bodies trembling with silent suffering. Each one bore the same signs of torment: fatigue, pain, and the aftermath of cruel experiments. The quiet sobs of some echoed in the sterile air.

Suddenly, the sliding door opened and another Charmeleon was dragged inside. The display outside the cage briefly flashed with the numbers “MX-460 to MX-469,” then changed to “MX-460 to MX-470.” The new arrival collapsed on the floor, her back a patchwork of fresh, crude stitches. Charmeleon’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized the same mark on his own back. His skin prickled, and the burn from the earlier procedure flared again, the memory of the needles and the searing blood fresh in his mind.

He turned back to his own reflection in the glass, eyes now dull with a mixture of despair and resignation. There was no escape—at least not now. With a low sigh, he limped to the corner of his cage, his body heavy with the weight of his new form and the agony it carried. He lay down, curling up into a ball, the cold glass pressing against his side as he waited for whatever was coming next.

————————————————————

Over Cerulean City, Kiawe rode his Charizard, scanning the bustling streets and skies below through his binoculars. He carefully observed every Charizard he could find, whether grounded or soaring, his sharp eyes scrutinizing their wings for any signs of a serial number. Despite his determination, frustration began to creep in as each sighting came up empty. He lowered the binoculars with a sigh.

Charizard, her powerful wings straining from the hours of flight, let out a heavy breath before descending onto the flat roof of a PokéMart. She landed with a thud, her body trembling slightly from exhaustion. Panting, she folded her wings and settled down, clearly too tired to continue.

“Rest easy now,” Kiawe said, patting her neck. “We still need to keep looking, but you’ve done great.” He hopped off her back, pacing the rooftop in thought, his boots scraping softly against the concrete. He mulled over his next move, glancing back at his companion as she let out a wide yawn, her eyes half-lidded with fatigue.

Kiawe stopped pacing and peered down over the edge of the building, catching sight of the PokéMart’s entrance below. “I’ll grab something real quick,” he called to her. “Stay here.”

Charizard chuckled softly, her tail flame flickering lazily. She stretched her wings slightly, settling into a more comfortable position. It was clear from her relaxed posture that staying put wasn’t exactly a challenge.

Kiawe leapt down from the rooftop and strode into the PokéMart, his boots clicking lightly on the tiled floor. He moved quickly through the aisles, grabbing some fresh fruit and bottled water. His eyes lingered on a Quick Ball displayed on the counter—it was expensive, but the potential to quickly capture Max could prove invaluable. Deciding it was worth the cost, he added it to his items and approached the cashier.

After paying for his purchases, Kiawe stepped outside, only to find a group of people waiting for him. Their expressions ranged from curious to wary, and their postures were tense. Sensing the potential for trouble, Kiawe calmly opened his Pokéball, releasing his Alolan Marowak. The ghostly Pokémon stood beside him, its flaming bone staff casting an eerie blue glow.

“I thought I recognized that mount on the Charizard up there,” one of the men in the group said, narrowing his eyes.

Kiawe offered a disarming smile. “Perhaps we can do this another time,” he said, his tone polite but firm. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

The man stepped forward, folding his arms. “Do you not remember Meowth’s warning about what happens if you set foot in Kanto?”

Kiawe’s smile didn’t falter as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a shiny, newly issued PIA badge. He held it up for the group to see, the silver insignia catching the sunlight. “Will it help if I show this?” he asked coolly.

The badge caused a stir among the group, with a few of them visibly relaxing their stances. While some remained skeptical, the sight of the badge clearly carried enough weight to make them think twice.

The tension in the air grew heavier as one of the men stepped closer, cracking his knuckles. “Doesn’t matter,” he said with a sneer. “You know what happens now.”

Kiawe tilted his head, his posture seemingly relaxed, though his eyes stayed sharp. “Yes, I do,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of playful confidence. “First, I beat you all. Then, I get back on my Charizard and go on my merry way while you’re stuck explaining to that furball how you lost.”

The group stiffened, and one of them snarled, “Is that a threat?”

Kiawe held up his hands in mock innocence, shrugging. “Hey, I only use self-defense. I never attack first. Isn’t that right, guys?”

His Marowak hummed in agreement, spinning its bone staff effortlessly. “Char,” his Charizard added from the rooftop above, her voice carrying a hint of smug amusement as she peered down at the interaction.

The group exchanged uncertain glances, unsure whether to make a move or back down. Kiawe stood his ground, his calm demeanor radiating an air of quiet authority.

“Hmm, that's what I thought.” Kiawe glanced briefly at the ladder before a sudden movement caught his eye. A Salazzle leaped forward, jaws glowing with toxic energy as it prepared a Poison Fang strike.

Without missing a beat, Kiawe’s Alolan Marowak sprang into action, hurling its bone staff in a well-timed Bonemerang. The spinning weapon struck Salazzle mid-air, knocking her off course and sending her tumbling to the ground.

Kiawe smirked, his calm unshaken. “Now you’ve done it.”

One of the men lunged at him with a wild punch. Kiawe sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing the man’s arm and twisting it behind him before delivering a sharp elbow strike to his back. The man crumpled forward with a groan.

Salazzle hissed angrily as she scrambled to her feet, ready for another assault, but Marowak was already charging. With a fierce cry, the Ghost-and-Fire-type rammed into her with a powerful Headbutt, slamming into her gut and knocking her back again.

Kiawe straightened, dusting off his hands as he eyed the rest of the group. One of the men released a Cinderace, who immediately charged at Kiawe, its powerful legs propelling it forward with blinding speed. Before it could reach him, Kiawe’s Charizard descended from the rooftop, landing with a loud thud and placing herself between Kiawe and the attacker.

The Cinderace skidded to a stop too late, ramming directly into Charizard’s sturdy belly. Stunned, the rabbit Pokémon staggered back, eyes wide in shock. Charizard gave a low, guttural growl before swinging her glowing tail in a fierce Dragon Tail, sending Cinderace hurtling to the side and crashing into a nearby wall.

Kiawe stepped aside calmly as one of the remaining attackers rushed at him, throwing a wild punch. He ducked effortlessly, the fist swiping through the air above him. Another man pulled out a gun, aiming shakily, but Kiawe reacted instantly. Leaning back and twisting his arm, he caused the attacker to misfire, the bullet lodging into his friend's foot.

The man screamed in pain, dropping to the ground as Kiawe seized the gunman’s arm and, with practiced precision, dislocated his shoulder. The attacker cried out, the weapon falling from his grasp. Kiawe kicked the gun away before stepping back, his eyes sharp and his posture steady.

Meanwhile, Skeledirge lunged toward Marowak, its jaws wide in an attempt to Bite, the Alolan Marowak nimbly dodged, as Salazzle, still struggling to recover from the previous attack, gasped for air, clutching her stomach in pain.

The first guy, still reeling from earlier, stumbled to his feet and made a desperate dash for the gun. Before he could reach it, Charizard blocked his path. With a powerful Dragon Tail, she struck him, sending him flying backward. He collided with Cinderace, who had only just regained its footing, and they tumbled to the ground in a heap.

Charizard then turned her attention to Skeledirge, who had been chasing after Marowak. With a swift movement, Charizard reached out, grabbed Skeledirge’s tail, and effortlessly lifted it into the air. She then slammed the large Pokémon down with a devastating Body Slam, leaving Skeledirge winded and immobilized.

Kiawe stood watching the scene unfold, a satisfied grin forming on his face as the attackers lay defeated. He casually crossed his arms, his voice dripping with mockery.

“Good talk, same time next week.” he said, eyes narrowing as the last of their resistance crumpled before him.

————————————————————

Eclipsa and Francisco crouched low, scanning the skyline of Cerulean City from their vantage point atop a hill. Behind them, Max lingered uneasily near the treeline, his massive frame tense.

“You managed fine in Black City,” Francisco pointed out, glancing back at the Charizard.

“Black City’s cramped,” Eclipsa countered. “Fewer people. Cerulean’s sprawling, and there’s a lot more foot traffic. Makes sense he’s uncomfortable.”

Francisco sighed. “So, how are we supposed to find Mewtwo here?”

The trio fell into thought until Servine, perched beside Eclipsa, flicked her tail and spoke up, “Servine!”

Eclipsa turned to Max. “Sorry, big guy, but you’re part of the plan. Can’t just stay out here.”

Max gave a reluctant grunt but nodded in agreement.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Eclipsa said, straightening up. “We split up and look around the city. Ask questions, follow any leads about Mewtwo. We’ll regroup at the gym in a few hours. Sounds good?”

“Sure,” Francisco agreed, and Goodra shook his head, also in agreement.

Eclipsa gave a confident nod before heading down the hill with Servine close behind, while Francisco adjusted his jacket and took another path into the city. Max remained at the outskirts for a moment longer, steeling himself before lumbering forward into the shadows of Cerulean.

Eclipsa and Servine entered a bustling square, splitting up to cover more ground. Her eyes wandered over the cobblestone paths and market stalls, eventually settling on the central fountain. She approached it cautiously, scanning for any subtle hints about Mewtwo.

Her attention shifted when something caught her eye—a flier plastered on the window of a nearby bus station. Eclipsa froze. It was a photo of Max, his distinctive serial number prominently displayed beneath it.

Her heart raced as she rushed over, ripping the flier from the glass. Behind it, she found a stack of identical posters. Panic took hold as she tore through the pile, shredding each one into unrecognizable pieces.

As the last of the fliers fluttered to the ground, Servine approached with a curious tilt of her head.

“We need to get rid of these,” Eclipsa muttered, glancing around nervously for any onlookers.

“Servine,” the Pokémon responded with a resolute nod, agreeing without hesitation.

Eclipsa stuffed the torn papers into her bag, looking around the square for more signs of the fliers.

Max rounded the corner, his movements cautious and deliberate, only to be confronted by Dialga, who loomed imposingly above him. The legendary dragon's gaze bore down on Max, as if silently demanding his attention. Max, however, refused to engage, carefully sidestepping around Dialga's massive legs while avoiding eye contact.

Before he could proceed further, Groudon intervened, summoning a blazing wall of fire that erupted in front of Max, halting him in his tracks. To the bystanders nearby, it seemed as though the Charizard had stumbled backward out of nowhere. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as they watched Max growl at an unseen force, his actions puzzling and unnerving.

His wings spread wide, Max assumed a defensive stance, tail flame blazing brighter as he shouted, "Charizard!" His voice carried a mix of frustration and defiance, directed squarely at the legendaries only he could perceive.

Dialga and Groudon stood unmoved, their ethereal presence unfazed by his defiance.

Realizing the onlookers were staring, some whispering and pointing, Max hesitated. He glanced around, his fiery determination wavering as the realization struck: to everyone else, he was simply threatening empty air.

Max's gaze shifted downward, catching sight of Dialga's footprints shimmering faintly on the ground, an iridescent trail leading toward the east. The sight caused his heart to sink—he knew this was no coincidence. Dialga's silent directive was clear, and the path felt more like a command than an invitation.

He shook his head, attempting to push past the fear creeping into his chest. With a low growl, he turned back to continue his intended route, only to find his way blocked once again by Groudon's wall of flames. The inferno roared, intense and unyielding, forcing Max to retreat a step as the heat pressed against him.

He glanced between the fiery blockade and the glowing footprints. His tail flame flickered nervously as he stood there, torn between resisting and obeying. The legendaries seemed determined to herd him, leaving him no choice but to follow the glowing trail.

Reluctantly, Max let out a deep sigh and started toward the east, his every step heavy with trepidation. He didn’t know where this path would lead, but the ominous pressure of the unseen legendaries left no room for objection.

————————————————————

At the Cerulean City Police Department, Kiawe leaned over the monitor, his eyes scanning the footage as Porygon meticulously analyzed every Charizard captured on camera. The room was dim, save for the glow of the screens displaying the bustling city's activity.

Suddenly, Marowak tapped the monitor with his bone club, pointing at a scene in the square. Kiawe squinted, focusing on a figure pulling down fliers. Eclipsa and her Servine were frantically tearing the papers, discarding them in a nearby trash bin.

"Her," Kiawe said, his voice firm. "Where did she come from?"

Porygon chirped, rewinding the footage rapidly. The timestamps flickered backward as Eclipsa’s movements retraced to the city limits.

"Scan every Charizard from Route 24," Kiawe ordered, his tone growing sharper.

Porygon beeped in acknowledgment, switching the feed to the route outside the city. After a tense moment, the footage paused on a Charizard—Max—collapsing seemingly from thin air, growling and flailing at nothing. Kiawe’s eyes narrowed as the angle shifted, revealing the serial number etched on his wing.

“That’s him,” Kiawe muttered, his fist clenching. "We’ve got our lead.”

————————————————————

Eclipsa, Francisco, and Servine lingered outside the Cerulean Gym, their tension palpable as they waited. Eclipsa paced anxiously on the gym’s stone steps, her boots clicking against the ground. Francisco leaned against the railing, arms crossed, while Servine stayed close to Eclipsa, her vines twitching slightly with unease.

“Where is he?” Eclipsa muttered under her breath, her pacing quickening.

Finally, Goodra emerged from the crowd, his tall figure standing out as he approached. He scanned the group, his eyes darting around for Max.

Francisco straightened up, his expression tightening. “Have you seen him, Goodra?” he asked.

Goodra shook his head slowly, a soft, apologetic noise escaping him.

Eclipsa’s worry deepened. “What if he got captured… or worse?” she said, her voice trembling. Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios, her pacing now frantic.

Servine slithered forward, her vines wrapping gently around Eclipsa’s arms, tugging her to a halt. “Servine!” she said sharply, her tone firm yet comforting.

Eclipsa paused, staring at her Pokémon. It was as if Servine was telling her to calm down—that Max was strong, that he’d be okay. Despite the reassurance, Servine’s worried expression betrayed her own fears.

Eclipsa exhaled deeply, placing a hand on Servine’s vines. “You’re right,” she murmured, though her eyes still flickered toward the horizon, hoping that he'll be alright.

————————————————————

Max trudged to the edge of town, the shimmering footprints of Dialga leading him onward, their faint glow guiding him to a dark cave carved into the rocky outskirts. He paused at the entrance, staring into the ominous void, his body tense, wings twitching nervously. The oppressive feeling of being herded weighed heavily on him, his instincts screaming to turn back.

High above, Kiawe hovered on his Charizard, observing Max closely. As Max hesitated, Kiawe’s Charizard landed softly near the cave’s entrance. Kiawe dismounted and, after a quiet word of thanks, recalled her into her Pokéball. He slipped into the cave's shadow, his movements silent as he trailed Max from a safe distance.

Kiawe studied the Charizard ahead of him, his sharp eyes catching every flinch and uneasy glance the creature made. It was clear that Max wasn’t here by choice. His body language screamed resistance, yet something unseen was driving him forward, step by reluctant step.

“Where are you going?” Kiawe murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible.

Max froze as the shimmering footprints vanished abruptly. He turned his head, searching for a clue when a voice echoed through the cave, low and commanding.

“Why are you here?”

Max's eyes widened, his body tensing. “First, who are you?” he demanded, his voice firm despite the unease gripping him.

Out of the shadows floated a figure, its form sleek and imposing, its feet hovering inches above the ground.

“You…” Max whispered, his voice catching. “You're Mewtwo.”

The psychic Pokémon regarded him coolly. “And you’re a Charizard—or so you appear on the outside. I’ve been expecting you.”

Max's heart pounded as he processed the statement. “Who told you I was coming?”

“Dialga and Groudon,” Mewtwo replied evenly, its piercing eyes glowing faintly in the dim cave. “They informed me that you and your cell mates are… unique.”

Max clenched his fists, his claws digging into the cave floor. “We didn’t have a choice! Those humans—they ruined everything! They messed with us, with me!”

Mewtwo's gaze sharpened as it stepped closer, its eyes trailing to Max's battered wings. The faint tattoo of the serial number etched into his flesh, paired with the unmistakable Team Rocket insignia, made the legendary Pokémon pause.

“Whether it was your choice or theirs doesn’t matter,” Mewtwo said, its voice cold but tinged with a rare undercurrent of understanding. Its eyes lingered on the scars, the branding of a being who had endured far more than he should have.

“What matters now,” Mewtwo continued, “is what you do with what’s left of you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Max growled, his voice heavy with frustration. “You’re not the ticking time bomb.”

Mewtwo’s gaze darkened, its aura pulsing faintly. “And yet my powers caused the deaths of thousands—Pokémon and humans alike—in what was meant to be a celebration of unity.”

Max blinked, the weight of the statement catching him off guard.

Mewtwo continued, its tone unflinching but layered with regret. “Even though you didn’t explode, and my creators failed in their plans, the aftermath has left scars. Ryme City is engulfed in flames, teetering on the brink of destruction. The ripple effect of what we’ve both done… has led to even more deaths.”

Max frowned, lowering his head as the realization of his own role in the destruction settled in. “I never asked for this,” he muttered bitterly.

“Trust me,” Mewtwo replied, its voice softening just slightly. “I know the feeling.”

"I don’t even know why I’m here," Max admitted, his voice low, almost defeated.

"You don’t," Mewtwo said calmly, "but they do."

Mewtwo extended a hand, placing it gently on Max’s head. The cave filled with an eerie purple glow, the walls shimmering as faint images of Dialga and Groudon appeared, their colossal forms watching silently.

Kiawe, who had been keeping a careful distance, stumbled backward in shock. The sheer presence of the legendaries on the walls left him momentarily frozen.

Before Kiawe could react further, Mewtwo turned its gaze toward him. With a casual thought, Kiawe was yanked forward, his feet sliding across the rocky floor until he stood before the psychic Pokémon.

“My, what do we have here?” Mewtwo mused, its piercing eyes narrowing as it studied Kiawe.

"Charizard?" Max growled, his tail flame flickering dangerously brighter, the heat radiating from it intensifying as he eyed Kiawe.

"Wait, wait, I’m not here to hurt you," Kiawe quickly raised his hands, trying to calm the situation.

Max’s eyes narrowed, still tense. "How long have you been listening?"

"About half of everything." Kiawe shrugged, his tone somewhat casual, though his posture remained defensive. "I didn't understand what he said."

Mewtwo’s gaze shifted between the two, a flicker of understanding passing over its expression, though it remained unreadable. "So you're just a spectator in this mess?" Mewtwo asked, its voice colder now, tinged with a note of disappointment.

“No, I’m actually here to bring him into PIA custody. He’s kinda dangerous,” Kiawe admitted, keeping his tone steady as his eyes flicked between Mewtwo and Max.

Mewtwo’s eyes narrowed, a faint smirk curling its lips. “So am I. In fact, far more dangerous,” it said coldly, leaning in close to whisper into Kiawe’s ear. “I suggest you leave.”

With a flick of its hand, Mewtwo released its psychic grip, allowing Kiawe to stumble back. He hesitated, weighing his options, before turning to leave.

Before Kiawe could step out of the cave, Max’s voice echoed behind him. “Char! Charizard?”

Kiawe paused, looking over his shoulder.

“He came here with some friends,” Mewtwo translated, its tone softening slightly. “He asked if you could bring them here.”

Kiawe considered for a moment, then gave a curt nod. Without another word, he left the cave, determination etched on his face.

————————————————————

At the PIA facility, an agent escorted a weary Charizard, with glowing molten eyes, into the containment habitat where Velvet and several others were already gathered. The stone walls and floor were etched with jagged numbers, scratched deep by claws that had seen relentless use. Without hesitation, the new Charizard joined them, scraping its claws against the surface, adding to the growing tally.

Misty entered the room alongside a Beartic, the ice Pokémon exhaling frosty air to cool the space, which was sweltering from the intense heat radiating off the Charizards. The room still felt like a furnace, and Misty wiped beads of sweat from her forehead as she approached. Her gaze landed on Velvet, who hadn’t stopped scratching for days. The once-pristine claws on her hands were worn down to jagged stubs, only one remaining intact.

“That’s nine of them so far,” Misty said grimly. “Max is the only one left.”

“We still don’t know why they’re doing this,” the agent replied, watching the relentless scratching with unease.

“It’s whatever Team Rocket did to them,” Misty said, her voice sharp with frustration.

Velvet’s final claw splintered with a sickening snap. The Charizard hissed softly but didn’t stop, continuing to carve numbers into the stone with the raw, bleeding tip of her limb. Misty turned her face away, unable to watch as blood streaked the floor.

“I think I’ve cracked it!” Professor Oak called from the doorway, a mix of excitement and urgency in his voice.

Misty followed him into an adjacent room, its walls covered with photos and sketches of the mysterious numbers etched by the Charizards. She crossed her arms, her tone sharp with impatience. “Alright, make it quick, Professor.”

“Remember when I suggested these might be coordinates?” Oak began.

“You also said they weren’t coordinates,” Misty pointed out.

“Well, they are... and they aren’t,” Oak clarified. “Not in the traditional sense we’re familiar with. You see, Dialga perceives everything through the lens of time, not just space. The first sequence of numbers aligns with temporal measurements—specifically, time cycles. The first five numbers seem to count up to 43,200 seconds, exactly 12 hours of daylight, before resetting to zero for the next 12 hours—nighttime.”

Misty frowned, trying to piece it together. “So, if the countdown resets when the sun sets, why did Velvet start with 26-whatever instead of something closer to 40? Shouldn’t it be further along by now?”

Oak gestured to the numbers with a knowing smile. “That’s the key. The Charizards aren’t measuring time based on here. They’re synced to time in a completely different location.”

Misty’s eyes widened as the implications sank in. “So whatever they’re counting from… it’s not happening here. It’s happening wherever there is.”

“Exactly,” Oak affirmed, moving along the wall of data. “Then there’s the next set of seven numbers. This counter is unique—we noticed it hits zero at a different interval than the others. What’s fascinating is how it counts both up and down, peaking at approximately 1.2 million before descending again. That’s when it clicked—it’s tracking the moon’s rotation, measured in kilometers.”

Misty leaned closer to the notes, her brow furrowing. “Alright, but what about Groudon’s set of numbers? The ones that don’t seem to change?”

“That part was surprisingly straightforward,” Oak said, gesturing to a highlighted section. “Groudon’s numbers are short and static: 44, 7, 45, 2. Assuming these refer to the planet’s crust, they align perfectly. Cross-referencing these figures with geological data, we determined they point to Mahogany Town. Specifically, the numbers suggest a crust thickness of 45.2 kilometers, with the 44.7 indicating something located roughly half a kilometer beneath the surface.”

He pointed to a map of Mahogany Town, where a red circle marked the area. “Whatever we’re looking for—it’s underground, right there.”

“There’s only one way to find out if you’re right,” Misty said, her voice steady as she grabbed the map and walked toward the habitat. As she entered, she motioned for Beartic to help restrain one of the Charizards. The massive ice-type struggled to keep it still, but a few other ice-types joined in, their bodies steaming from the intense heat radiating off the Charizard’s scales.

Misty held up the map of Mahogany Town, her voice firm as she addressed the Charizard. “Listen, Dialga and Groudon, I know you can hear me through them. You want us to go here and see what’s been done. Then please, if we’re right about this location, let them go.”

The Charizard's frantic movements slowed. Misty’s eyes widened as she watched its molten orange gaze shift. One of its eyes turned a fiery red, while the other shimmered a brilliant blue. It was as if Dialga and Groudon themselves were responding through the Charizard, communicating with her directly.

Before she could react, the Charizard slumped down, its eyes returning to their normal state as it gasped for breath. One by one, the other Charizards followed suit, their bodies trembling, some coughing weakly as they too seemed to regain control of themselves.

Misty quickly turned and rushed to Velvet’s side, her heart heavy with concern. The Charizard trembled in pain, blood dripping from her broken claws. Misty knelt beside her, gently reaching out to soothe the creature. "You’re going to be okay," she murmured softly, though the sight of Velvet’s condition made it hard to believe her own words.

The room was filled with a tense silence as Misty worked quickly, trying to stop the bleeding, her mind racing with the gravity of the situation.

————————————————————

Charmeleon leaned against the glass of the enclosure, his sharp eyes fixed on a fellow Charmeleon fresh from a round of experiments. As the scientist secured the cage and left the room, his attention remained on her.

She gagged violently, her claws digging into her stomach as she doubled over. With a pained growl, she struck her abdomen repeatedly until, with a wet sound, a Pokéball was forced from her throat and fell to the floor. Blood dripped from her mouth as she gasped for air, her trembling form betraying the ordeal she'd endured.

Curious, Charmeleon watched as she lifted her water bowl, revealing an assortment of random parts—fragments of metal, wires, and bits of machinery she had secretly collected. His eyes softened, and a faint smile crossed his face. He gave her a small nod of understanding, silently vowing to keep her secret. A flicker of hope ignited within him—hope for escape.

Chapter Text

Charizard sat restrained, his newly evolved body bound tightly at every limb. The cold steel of the restraints pressed against his scales, rendering him motionless as exhaustion weighed heavy on him. His eyes glazed over in a mixture of pain and resignation. In his mind, Dialga's form loomed, a spectral presence that only deepened his torment.

The sharp hiss of needles retracting from his spine barely registered to him. Rows of empty vials, labeled with Dialga's Blood, glinted under the sterile light. His body ached, screaming for rest, but no reprieve came.

A figure in a hazmat suit approached, wielding a tattooing device. Without ceremony, the person pressed it to his left wing, burning Team Rocket’s logo and MX-469 into his flesh. Charizard grimaced but didn’t have the strength to cry out. The sharp scent of scorched skin filled the room as the ink marked him permanently.

Moments later, the scientist began clipping his wings, a brutal process that sent rivulets of blood cascading onto the floor. Charizard's head lolled to the side, his eyes filled with despair. He was forced to achieve this form—a symbol of power and freedom—yet that freedom was stripped away before he could even stretch his wings. All he could do was endure, trapped in a body that no longer felt like his own.

Charizard’s gaze shifted weakly to another figure in a hazmat suit approaching him. This one carried a pair of headphones, which were carefully placed over his head. Before he could react, the soft, hypnotic singing of a Jigglypuff filled his ears. His heavy eyelids fluttered closed, and the pain that coursed through his body melted away into an enforced sleep.

When he awoke, the world was blurred and disorienting. He struggled to focus as he raised his head, catching sight of his reflection in a nearby glass panel. His breath hitched. Stitches crisscrossed his back and wings, jagged lines where his flesh had been crudely sewn back together.

Trembling, he tried to open one of his wings. Pain exploded through the limb, sharp and relentless, causing him to hesitate. He gritted his teeth, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. The soreness from the tattoo burned like a brand, a constant reminder of his captivity.

He let his wing fold back in, his reflection staring back at him—a fractured, wounded image of what he once was. The fire in his tail flickered dimly, mirroring his dwindling resolve.

Charizard turned his weary gaze to the others in the adjacent enclosures, the haunting reality of their shared suffering reflected in their every movement—or lack thereof.

Three Charizards sat in their enclosures, rolling a stolen Pokéball back and forth under the glass partition. The ball was an escape attempt, a futile tool for freedom. When it failed to function, they repurposed it into a source of idle distraction, their laughter hollow and strained.

Nearby, another Charizard lay sprawled on the floor, his body limp and his breaths shallow. Exhausted from the forced evolution process, his strength had been completely drained, leaving him too weak to even acknowledge his surroundings.

Charizard’s eyes shifted to another enclosure, this one padded with soft see-through cushions, designed to prevent harm. Its lone occupant, a female Charizard, was bound tightly in a specially crafted straightjacket. She sat motionless, her gaze vacant and unseeing. The realization struck Charizard like a blow: they had designed the jacket specifically for her even before forcing her evolution, proof of how thoroughly they anticipated and prepared for her despair.

They wouldn't let her try to take her life again—not out of compassion, but to keep her alive for further experiments. Even though her depression, the very thing that consumed her, was their doing.

Then there were the two sharing a single enclosure, their bond unbroken despite the horrors inflicted upon them. The brother, usually proactive and quick to offer help, sat quietly now, his gaze fixed on his sister. She crouched by the stone wall, carefully etching another intricate tree into its surface with her claws.

Her movements were delicate, each scratch a reflection of her optimism. The tree’s branches stretched outward, detailed and lifelike, despite the lack of tools she had at her disposal. This was her sixth tree—each one unique, a tribute to memories long past, likely from a life that now felt like a distant dream. She knew full well the scientists would repair the wall soon, erasing her art as they always did. Yet she continued, undeterred.

Finally, there was the Charizard in the far corner, his broken form a haunting reminder of the toll the experiments had taken. He sat hunched over, trembling, tears streaming down his face as he muttered to himself in a voice too low for anyone to hear. His enclosure bore the evidence of his torment—deep claw marks gouged into the walls and glass, chaotic and frenzied, mirroring the state of his mind.

He was the most unstable among them, though his instability rarely turned outward. His rage, confusion, and despair were aimed solely at himself. At times, he lashed out at his surroundings, striking the walls with enough force to shake the glass. Other times, he paced in endless circles, his claws scraping the floor as he spoke to voices only he could hear. And then there were the moments when he succumbed to his impulses, openly masturbating unlike everyone else, lost in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of control or escape from the chaos within.

When they had all first evolved into Charmeleons, the others had been wary of him, his unpredictable nature a source of fear. But over time, his erratic behavior became just another part of their shared nightmare. Now, they watched him not with fear, but with a distant sort of pity, unable to help but understanding all too well how the experiments had unraveled him.

He then turned his gaze to the Charizard in the adjacent enclosure, her claws gently tapping on the glass to get his attention. He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“Charizard,” she said softly, her voice low and calm despite the pain that was evident in her posture.

He studied her for a moment, unsure of her intentions, as she turned her back and lay down, shifting her position so the stitched edge of her damaged wing hovered just above the narrow gap beneath the glass divider.

She was something of a mystery to him—quiet, almost aloof, but undeniably resourceful. Her actions always seemed calculated, as if every movement was part of some plan.

Now, she arched her back carefully, her wings inching closer to the divider. The stitches hung precariously near the gap. She grunted softly as she stretched, her pain evident but contained.

He hesitated, then reached a claw under the glass, the tip just brushing the thread of her stitches. Gently, he tried to lift the loose thread, his claws trembling with the effort to be careful. She grunted again, a sharper sound of discomfort, but she didn’t pull away.

He carefully hooked his claw into the loose thread, his movements slow and deliberate. With a gentle tug, he began pulling it out, inch by agonizing inch. She gritted her teeth, her body trembling as the wound in her wing reopened. Blood dripped onto the cold floor, pooling around the thread as it emerged, her breaths growing heavier with each painful tug.

Despite the obvious agony, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she gestured for him to keep going, her resolve unshaken.

He continued, his own claws slick with her blood, until the last stitch slipped free. The wound gaped open now, raw and angry, but no longer bound by the restraints that had kept it closed.

She took deep, shaky breaths, her body trembling from the pain, but her expression softened—relief washing over her as the tension began to ebb. She reached out weakly for the bloodied thread, her claws trembling.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of her intentions, then gently placed the thread in her grasp. She clutched it tightly, her determination clear despite the agony still coursing through her.

She lifted her water bowl, carefully hiding the thread along with the other items she had been collecting. Her movements were deliberate, the pain still fresh in her wing, but she had a plan.

Meanwhile, the last Charmeleon who had recently evolved into a Charizard was brought into the room. The others, previously distracted with their game of rolling a Pokéball under the glass, suddenly stopped. One of them quickly hid the ball with his tail as the glass slid open. The scientists dropped the subject into the enclosure with a cold, mechanical efficiency.

"Subject MX-460 through MX-470 are now secured," one of the men announced, turning to leave. But as his eyes fell on her enclosure, he froze.

"MX-470 is currently bleeding."

“Did the wound reopen?” a woman’s voice crackled through his radio.

“Looks like it. Activate sleep procedure for 470.”

The sound of Jigglypuff’s lullaby filled the enclosure through the small speakers. The melody gently lulled her into sleep, her body going limp as she collapsed onto her water bowl. As she fell unconscious, the hidden items she had been carefully concealing were revealed—threads, broken shards, and the small treasures she had been gathering.

Every Charizard gasped in unison as 469 shouted in frustration, his claws scraping against the glass of his enclosure.

"Great, now we have to check all of your enclosures," the man sighed, looking over the items in his hand—the thread, a clear sign of some sort of escape attempt.

————————————————————

Servine watched from a distance inside the dimly lit cave, her sharp eyes narrowing as she observed the scene. Max sat motionless on a jagged rock, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His skin shimmered faintly, an otherworldly glow tracing the veins beneath it, pulsating like a heartbeat.

Mewtwo stood beside him, its hands hovering just above Max’s shoulders, radiating a soft, steady aura. Its gaze was focused, as it guided the excess energy coursing through the Charizard. Streams of faint purple light flowed from Max’s body, swirling around Mewtwo’s hands before dissipating into the air.

Servine felt a pang of unease, unsure whether the process was healing or something far more dangerous. She remained still, blending with the shadows, hesitant to intervene yet unable to look away.

"I'm impressed with how calm you are," Mewtwo remarked, its voice steady but tinged with concern.

Max let out a soft breath, his lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. "Let's just say my time with Rocket helped with my pain tolerance."

Mewtwo's glowing eyes narrowed, its hands never faltering in their precise movements. "Now is not the time to joke," it said, a hint of irritation slipping through its usual composure.

Max’s smile faded as the glow around him intensified, his muscles tensing. "Not joking," he murmured, his voice quieter now. "Just... coping."

“See if you can continue the pattern I set, and feel Dialga's and Groudon's powers flow through you,” Mewtwo instructed, its tone steady as it slowly removed its hands.

Max’s muscles tensed, his veins pulsing with an even brighter glow beneath his skin. His breath quickened, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead as the energies of time and earth coursed through him.

“Focus, Max,” Mewtwo urged, its piercing gaze locked on him. “Feel their flow—don’t fight it. Guide it like a river, not a storm.”

Max gritted his teeth, his fists clenching as he tried to maintain control. The energy within him threatened to spiral out of balance, but he kept his eyes closed, searching for the rhythm Mewtwo had put into motion. Slowly, the glow began to stabilize, pulsing in harmony with his heartbeat.

Servine watched in awe, her small frame frozen in place as Max's transformation unfolded. His tail split, the flame at the end separating into vibrant hues of red, blue, and yellow, each burning with intense energy. His wings split into six massive appendages, their edges shimmering with iridescent light, and his claws grew larger and sharper, glinting like forged steel. His scales, once rugged and orange, now gleamed like diamonds, refracting light into a dazzling display across the cave walls.

Mewtwo floated around him, studying his form intently. Its normally composed demeanor betrayed a flicker of intrigue. “How do you feel?” it asked, voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

“I don’t know,” Max said, his voice trembling slightly. “I... I feel this tingling sensation, like something’s trying to get out of me.” He flexed his claws experimentally, the power coursing through him almost overwhelming.

Mewtwo's glowing eyes narrowed slightly. “Open your eyes, Max.”

Hesitant, Max finally lifted his gaze to the waterfall in front of him. The rippling water reflected his form back at him, distorted yet unmistakable. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of what he had become.

He was utterly transformed—a being of raw power and elemental beauty. The glow of his veins pulsed faintly under his shimmering scales, and his six wings stretched wide, exuding a majestic yet fearsome presence. For a moment, he was completely speechless, the realization of his new form leaving him in stunned silence.

The radiant glow spilling from the cave's depths drew the others closer, their curiosity overpowering caution. Eclipsa and Francisco entered first, their eyes widening as they beheld Max's transformed figure. They exchanged a glance, a mixture of disbelief and awe mirrored in their expressions.

Goodra followed, his jaw hung open, his usual composure shattered by shock. Beside him, Kiawe raised a hand under Goodra's chin, gently pushing it closed.

“Max?” Eclipsa asked, her voice trembling as she stepped closer.

“Yeah,” Max replied, his tone steady but unfamiliar, leaving both Eclipsa and Francisco to gasp in shock.

“Did he just say ‘yeah’ instead of Charizard?” Kiawe murmured, his disbelief echoing through the cave.

“Servine!” Servine’s jealous shout broke the tension, her sharp tone bouncing off the cave walls. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Max’s gleaming, otherworldly form.

“This is quite cool and terrifying… and annoying… who said that?” Max turned his head, his expression filled with confusion. His eyes flickered to blue for a moment before returning to their usual yellow.

“We didn’t say anything,” Francisco replied, looking equally baffled.

"Somebody said ‘annoying’, and I didn’t say that..." Max’s eyes flickered blue again, then he froze, his voice trailing off. "I did."

Max shook his head, taking several unsteady steps back, his claws twitching as if trying to resist something within. “What’s going on with me?” he muttered to himself, his voice laced with frustration.

Mewtwo observed Max closely, its intrigue growing as his eyes flickered again. “I’m Dialga… Dialga? How?” Max’s voice trembled, his body visibly shaking.

“I’m part of you, and you are part of me…” Dialga's voice through him.

“Ough, my head!” Max groaned, clutching his temples as he sat down.

“Fascinating,” Mewtwo mused, its tone thoughtful. “You are speaking to Dialga.”

“More like he’s talking to himself,” Kiawe commented, shrugging. Mewtwo shot Kiawe with a withering glare.

Before anyone could respond, Max’s eyes turned a molten red. “I’m here too…” came another voice, deeper and more forceful.

Max crouched down, shutting his eyes tightly, his breathing heavy and ragged. “Shut up,” he muttered to the voices, his tone desperate. “Please, just shut up…”

Suddenly, one of Max’s wings flapped with immense force, the motion powerful enough to throw him off balance. He tumbled from the rock, landing hard on the cave floor, his body heaving from the strain.

“Max!” Eclipsa called, rushing toward him, but Mewtwo raised a hand to stop her.

Max’s body trembled violently as his eyes continued shifting between blue, red, and yellow. The struggle between Dialga, Groudon, and Max himself played out visibly, each vying for control.

“What was that for?” Max’s voice growled, clearly Groudon’s influence.

“We’re trying to take back what you stole,” Dialga’s voice countered, resonating through Max.

“I didn’t steal anything!” Max shouted, his voice desperate and defensive.

Suddenly, Max’s claw reached back and grabbed one of his three tails—the one with the yellow flame. He yanked it toward the stream nearby, attempting to douse the flame. His body shuddered in pain from the unnatural motion.

Mewtwo raised its hands, a psychic aura enveloping Max to halt the action. “What are you two doing?” Mewtwo demanded, addressing the legendaries.

“Taking back what’s ours,” Groudon snarled, his tone filled with primal fury.

“He must pay the price for stealing from us,” Dialga added coldly.

Before the situation escalated further, Kiawe stepped in front of Max, planting himself firmly between the Charizard and the stream. His eyes locked onto Max’s, glowing an intense red as Groudon’s presence seemed to focus on the human.

“Don’t you remember me? The guy who helped you!” Kiawe said, holding his ground against Charizard’s fiery gaze.

“Of course I do!” Groudon bellowed through Max, his voice echoing with frustration. “What do you want?”

“I want you and Dialga to stop,” Kiawe demanded. “This creature has been through enough. What exactly did you think he stole?”

One of Max’s eyes turned blue, Dialga forcing his influence to the surface. Both legendaries roared in unison: “Our blood!”

The outburst sent a psychic shockwave that momentarily disrupted Mewtwo’s control. The legendary Pokémon staggered backward, caught off guard by the sheer force of their combined will.

“Hey!” Eclipsa shouted, stepping forward with a commanding tone. “Stop right now, or I’ll force you out of my friend.”

The Charizard’s blazing tails swayed as Servine suddenly grabbed hold of the red and blue flames, her vines tightened as if to anchor Max. Goodra stood nearby, his mouth ready to unleash a Water Gun, steam already rising from his maw.

The Charizard’s red and blue eyes turned to them, his voice now a distorted blend of Groudon and Dialga. “You really think that will scare us?” they sneered.

“We’re not here to scare you,” Eclipsa countered, her voice sharp. “We’re here to protect Max. Either you back down, or we’ll make sure you regret staying in him.”

The Charizard's wings trembled as the struggle continued, Mewtwo regaining his footing and reinforcing his psychic hold. "This is not your fight, mortals," Dialga's voice reverberated coldly through Max. "Do not interfere with what you cannot comprehend.”

Francisco stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of calm and respect, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Please, I know both of your DNAs are inside of him, but he didn't do this to himself. He was forced to take your blood. And I bet, if he could, he would never choose to have his life go down this path."

Kiawe nodded, his eyes unwavering as he addressed Groudon’s fury through the Charizard. "I saved you when they were taking your blood, Groudon. You owe me this."

The Charizard’s eyes flickered, shifting between red, blue, and yellow as Groudon and Dialga fought for dominance. “And what about me?” Dialga's cold, echoing voice hissed through Max. "For I owe nothing."

Eclipsa stepped forward, her voice breaking with desperation. "Please, Dialga. We beg you."

Max’s body trembled as the legendaries’ voices twisted through him, pulling at his very essence. His form flickered, unstable, as the weight of their anger threatened to tear him apart. "This creature is suffering more than what your loss of blood caused you,” Mewtwo said, its voice strained but resolute as it fought to maintain control. “He is not your thief. Those humans from Rocket did this."

The struggle within Max intensified, his veins glowing brighter as the legendaries fought against Mewtwo's psychic influence. Each word they spoke tore at the Charizard's mind, but Mewtwo’s power held steady, keeping him grounded.

“Don’t make him pay for their crimes," Mewtwo continued, its focus absolute. “He’s already paid the price.”

The tension in the cave seemed to hang in the air as Dialga and Groudon paused, their shared grip over Max loosening. Slowly, the fiery glow of the yellow-flamed tail dimmed as they released their hold. Servine, watching carefully, let go of the two other tails, her vines shriveled back from the heat.

The diamond-coated Charizard staggered forward, standing on shaky legs as his shimmering form flickered one last time. His eyes turned an icy blue as Dialga’s voice echoed through him. “I will let him live for now... but know this—both Groudon and I will reclaim what is ours.”

With those ominous words, a blinding flash of light filled the cave. The dazzling glow faded to reveal Max, back to his original form, collapsed onto his knees. He gasped for air, his chest heaving, as though he’d been underwater for far too long.

Eclipsa and Francisco rushed to Max’s side, their concern evident. Francisco instinctively reached out to steady him, but his hand recoiled instantly upon contact with Max’s scorching scales. “Eclipsa be careful!” Francisco exclaimed, shaking his hand to cool it down. “His scales are hot.”

Eclipsa paused, her hand hovering in hesitation as she watched Max tremble. “Max…” she called softly, unsure how to help without hurting herself. Francisco took a cautious step back, concern etched across his face, while Eclipsa remained at his side, her worry unwavering despite the heat radiating from him.

Max looked up, panting heavily, blood dripping from his nostrils. The pained expression etched across his face made it clear how much of a toll this ordeal had taken on him. “Chariz…” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Kiawe stared at him, his expression softening with sympathy.

Mewtwo floated closer, its tone calm yet firm. “Take the time you need to recover, Max. I’ll be back. Just stay put.”

Max gave a weak nod in response, his body trembling as he tried to steady his breathing. Satisfied, Mewtwo turned and exited the cave, leaving the others in a heavy silence as they processed what had just transpired.

Francisco turned to Kiawe, watching as Goodra carefully wrapped a cool cloth around his burned hand. “What did you mean when you said you helped Groudon?” Francisco asked, his tone curious but tinged with suspicion.

Kiawe hesitated, his gaze shifting away briefly. “It’s... a long story.”

Meanwhile, outside the cave, Mewtwo moved silently through the dark woods surrounding the entrance, its senses heightened. A sudden snap of a twig drew its attention. Before the cause of the noise could react, Mewtwo darted forward in a blur, seizing a Zebstrika by the neck and pinning it against a towering tree.

“Why are you here?” Mewtwo demanded, its voice low and dangerous.

The Zebstrika’s eyes widened in terror, its body trembling as it struggled against Mewtwo’s iron grip. All four of its hooves dangled uselessly above the ground, and it remained speechless, overwhelmed by fear.

Kiawe began his explanation, his tone calm but tinged with the weight of memory. Max listened silently, his body limp on the ground, his breathing still labored.

“There was a massive 6.7 magnitude earthquake in Alola over a decade ago. We’d had earthquakes before, but this one was different—stronger, more destructive. Things got worse after Ash left Alola. After the quake, the International Police began investigating. They found a strange connection—a ship that docked in Alola every time, always near the base of one of the volcanoes. Each time it showed up, an earthquake followed. Then the ship would leave.”

Francisco rubbed his bandaged hand thoughtfully. “A ship?”

Kiawe nodded. “Yes. I joined a team of trainers to help investigate. We discovered it was Team Magma. They were searching for Groudon and had found it, deep inside the volcano. Groudon must have been sleeping there for years. Team Magma built a facility into the volcano itself, pumping it full of sleep pheromones to keep Groudon subdued. Their plan was to control the earth through him.”

Eclipsa’s expression turned serious. “Was there anything else?”

Kiawe hesitated, then nodded grimly. “Yes. I remember seeing multiple vials of Groudon’s blood. They loaded them onto the ship just before we managed to shut them down.”

“Then what happened?” Francisco asked.

Kiawe took a breath, his expression darkening slightly as he recalled the events. “We shut down the pheromones and managed to wake Groudon up. The International Police and the Pokémon Inspection Agency launched a joint operation to attack the compound and arrest everyone involved. It was chaos, but we succeeded.”

He paused, his gaze shifting to Max, who was still lying on the ground, his breaths shallow and labored.

“But those vials of blood…” Kiawe continued, his voice quieter now. “They always stuck with me. I kept wondering where they ended up. I never expected to find them here… in him.”

Kiawe nodded solemnly toward Max, his words heavy with unspoken grief and guilt.

————————————————————

Grace and Jacob walked alongside their Eevees, the streets narrowing as the houses grew more cramped. The transition to tightly packed townhouses was gradual, the air heavy with the scent of smoke rising from the city center.

“The bridge should be this way. It’ll be a shortcut to downtown,” Tim Goodman said, gesturing ahead as he led the group.

“Thank you for leading us,” Grace replied politely.

Jacob’s eyes scanned the surroundings. People and Pokémon moved about their day as if nothing was wrong. The streets buzzed with activity, seemingly unfazed by the looming threat. “Why aren’t these people evacuating?” Jacob asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Tim stopped and turned back slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Haven’t you been paying attention to who’s leaving the city?” he asked before continuing forward. “This is their city. They’re chanting for Rocket to leave, not the other way around. The evacuees are the ones who can’t fight—kids, first-gen Pokémon, those who are disabled or too old to battle. Pokémon who never had to fight and wouldn’t even know what move to use if they tried.”

Grace’s expression tightened as the realization dawned on her. “So… those who can’t defend themselves are being sent to safety,” she said, connecting the dots.

Tim gave a grim nod. “The rest? They’re staying. They’re not giving up without a fight.”

A faint crashing sound echoed through the street, drawing everyone's attention. A Team Aqua grunt was hurled out of a nearby window, hitting the ground hard. She scrambled to reach for her gun, but a swift bolt of electricity from Pikachu sent it skidding across the pavement.

Harry Goodman moved in quickly, securing her hands with cuffs before she could react. His movements were practiced, efficient.

Emerging from the building behind her was a Crawdaunt, its claws clicking ominously as it glared down at the woman. The Pokémon’s expression was cold, filled with regret.

“Crawdaunt, you backstabber!” the grunt shouted angrily, struggling against her restraints.

Harry straightened, his sharp eyes meeting hers. “No,” he said firmly. “I believe you backstabbed her first during the Incident.”

The grunt’s face twisted in rage, but she fell silent, her struggles losing their intensity.

As Harry glanced up, his eyes landed on Tim Goodman standing nearby. Pikachu dashed over, affectionately rubbing against Tim’s leg.

Tim crouched down, scratching Pikachu behind the ears with a small smile. “Good to see you too, buddy,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with concern.

“Tim? I thought I told you to stay away,” Harry said sternly, gripping the handcuffed woman tightly.

“I wasn’t going to do that anyway,” Tim replied with a shrug. He gestured to his companions. “Also, this is Jacob and Grace.”

Harry’s expression softened slightly as he extended a hand toward them. “Nice to meet you.”

Grace shook his hand, a faint smile on her face. “Nice to put a face to the legend.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and turned to Tim with mock suspicion. “Did you snitch on me, son?”

Before Tim could reply, Grace interjected, “Actually, Leo and a few others told me about you.”

Harry’s demeanor shifted as he looked back at her with interest. “Do you know where Leo is?” Jacob asked, cutting to the point.

“Yes,” Harry replied, his tone serious. He motioned for them to follow. “Come, I’ll take you.” As he turned to leave, he glanced at the handcuffed grunt. “And that includes you too,” he said, pulling her along firmly. The grunt glared but said nothing, her defiance stifled by the Crawdaunt watching her every move.

————————————————————

Red Eyes smirked as he loomed over Elesa, his shadow casting an ominous figure in the dimly lit submarine cabin. "Comfortable? I hope so," he sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "Because soon, your precious Zebstrika will come and help us find the Charizard."

Elesa's muffled protests were drowned out by the bandana gag tied tightly around her mouth. Her Pokéballs on the table beside her shook violently, her Emolgas inside desperately trying to break free.

Blue Eyes leaned against the wall with a cold grin. "But don’t worry,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. “You’re dead anyway.”

Elesa’s eyes widened in terror, and she thrashed against the ropes binding her to the chair.

Red Eyes chuckled darkly and crouched to meet her gaze. "You see," he continued, his voice low and menacing, "you know too much. Zebstrika will lead us to the Charizard, and once we have what we want..." He stood and gestured toward Purple Eyes, who had been silently sharpening a blade in the corner. "Purple here is going to kill you and your Emolgas," Red Eyes finished, his grin widening. "And after we’re done, Zebstrika can join you three in death."

Elesa's eyes burned with fury and fear as she struggled harder against her restraints. Her Pokéballs shook more violently, sparks occasionally escaping from the cracks, but Red Eyes only laughed, clearly savoring her helplessness.

The cameras emitted a soft beep as they detected movement, and the sound of hooves echoed faintly through the submarine's metal corridors. Zebstrika cautiously stepped onboard, his stripes glowing faintly with static as he turned the corner. Relief and fear flashed in his eyes as he saw his trainer tied and gagged, struggling in her chair.

"Didn't think you'd actually come," Red Eyes said with a smug grin, crossing his arms. "You’re predictable, Zebstrika."

Purple Eyes stood nearby, raising his gun and pressing it firmly against Elesa’s temple. The cold metal made her flinch, her muffled cries growing more desperate.

Zebstrika’s ears pinned back as his muscles tensed, his instinct to strike almost overwhelming. But he froze, his gaze fixed on Elesa’s pleading eyes. She thrashed against the ropes, trying to warn him, but her cries were silenced by the gag.

"Shut up," Blue Eyes growled, stepping forward. He landed a hard punch to Elesa’s stomach, forcing a pained gasp through her gag.

Zebstrika’s eyes burned with fury, his mane sparking with raw electricity, but he hesitated. The sight of the gun against his trainer’s head rooted him in place. His nostrils flared as he tried to calculate a way to act, but he knew any sudden movement could cost Elesa her life.

"Good boy," Red Eyes sneered, stepping closer to Zebstrika. "You know you can’t win this. So why don’t you make it easy on yourself?"

Zebstrika lowered his head slightly, his body trembling with suppressed rage as he held back, unable to make a move. Slowly, Zebstrika turned to Red and Blue, nodding toward the entrance as if signaling for them to follow.

Red smirked, the arrogance dripping from his voice. "Good boy," he said, motioning to Blue. "I knew you would understand."

Zebstrika began to trot forward, his hooves clicking sharply against the metal floor. Red and Blue followed, their confidence blinding them to the subtle tension in Zebstrika's posture.

As the hatch to the corridor shut behind them with a loud clank, Elesa's breathing quickened, her heart pounding in her chest. She struggled against her bonds, her fear mounting as Purple Eyes stepped away from the door and approached the blade mounted on the wall.

Purple grinned cruelly as he ran a finger along the edge of the weapon, the glint of the steel catching Elesa's wide, terrified eyes. "You should have never gotten involved, sweetheart," he muttered, advancing toward her.

Elesa thrashed against the ropes, every muscle straining as her Emolgas' Pokéballs shook on the table nearby. They could sense their trainer's peril, but the locks on their capsules held firm.

Purple loomed closer, the blade raised, and Elesa’s muffled cries grew more frantic. She shut her eyes tightly, bracing for the cold sting of the blade. Seconds stretched into what felt like eternity, but the impact never came. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, her heart racing.

A shimmering purple hue hovered inches away from her face, holding the blade mid-air as if caught by an invisible hand.

Purple Eyes stumbled back in confusion, his grip faltering. "What? How?" he stammered, staring at the psychic barrier.

From the shadows, Mewtwo stepped into the dim light, its piercing eyes locking onto Purple's. "Am I interrupting something?" it said, its voice calm but carrying an edge that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present.

Purple reached for his gun, desperation evident in his movements, but before he could aim, the weapon dismantled itself in his hands. Bullet casings clattered to the floor, followed by springs, screws, and fragments of the barrel. The gun was reduced to a pile of useless parts at his feet.

Purple Eyes froze, his face pale with fear. Mewtwo advanced, its presence towering, psychic energy crackling faintly in the air around him. "Violence is such a crude solution," Mewtwo said, its voice low yet powerful. "Perhaps you'd like to reconsider your methods?"

Elesa watched in awe and relief, her earlier terror melting away as hope surged within her. Her captors had no idea what they were up against.

“You’re…” Purple Eyes stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to piece together words.

The restraints binding Elesa suddenly snapped open, the bandana around her mouth loosening and falling away. She gasped, her hands rubbing her sore wrists as she looked up at the psychic Pokémon standing before her. “Thank you,” she breathed, her voice full of gratitude and awe.

“Your Zebstrika told me everything,” Mewtwo said, its voice calm but cutting. It glanced toward the hatch, and with a burst of psychic energy, it blasted open, the metal door clanging to the floor. “Now, as for you," it said, turning back to Purple Eyes, its gaze like daggers, "using this human to manipulate Zebstrika’s loyalty... despicable.”

“I-I was just following orders!” Purple Eyes stammered, raising his hands in a pitiful attempt to shield himself.

Before Mewtwo could respond, the sound of pounding footsteps echoed. Red and Blue Eyes stormed into the room, their faces hardened in determination but unable to hide the fear that flickered in their eyes when they saw Mewtwo.

Zebstrika trotted down the corridor, his hooves clattering against the floor. He rushed past Red and Blue, galloping straight to Elesa. She fell to her knees, throwing her arms around him as tears welled in her eyes.

“You two go,” Mewtwo said, its voice commanding but protective. “I’ll handle this.” Elesa hesitated for a moment, glancing at Mewtwo, who nodded in reassurance. She grabbed her Pokéballs from the table and bolted toward the exit with Zebstrika at her side.

Mewtwo turned its full attention to the three criminals. “So,” it said, its voice dropping to a dangerous tone, “who’s going first?”

Mewtwo shifted into a fighting stance, its aura flaring with psychic energy that rippled through the room. Red and Blue exchanged a terrified glance but stood their ground, determination masking their growing dread. Purple Eyes, however, edged toward the door, clearly regretting every decision that had brought him to this moment.

————————————————————

Max and the others waited in the cave, the tension heavy in the air as they anticipated Mewtwo's return. When the psychic Pokémon finally stepped inside, its gaze swept across the group before it gestured for them to follow.

“You said you're heading to Neon Town,” Mewtwo began, its tone calm yet commanding. “I will accompany you on your journey to help refine your powers.”

Max nodded weakly, his voice low as he replied, “Chari.”

“Thanks,” Eclipsa said softly, offering Mewtwo a small, grateful smile.

The group gathered their belongings and began descending the hill, the cool breeze of the night brushing against them. As they moved, Mewtwo sidled closer to Kiawe, its glowing eyes narrowing. Its voice was low and chilling as it warned, “Try anything, and I will break you down, atom by atom, until you cease to exist.”

Kiawe froze for a moment, his throat dry as he swallowed hard. “Understood,” he managed to say, nodding fervently.

Satisfied, Mewtwo moved ahead, the air of authority around it. The group continued their journey in silence, the weight of Mewtwo's presence pressing down on them, yet its protection granted a strange sense of security.

————————————————————

In the swirling haze of the psychic plane, Dialga and Groudon loomed over an ethereal projection of Max, their forms shimmering with raw power. Groudon's fury burned like molten lava as it growled at Dialga.

“We should have killed him,” Groudon snarled, its voice reverberating through the void.

Dialga remained calm, its tone measured yet authoritative. “Patience, Groudon. In due time, we will. Our blood will return to us—but remember, my limb is still unaccounted for.”

Groudon's form flared with fiery rage. “I can cause an earthquake,” it rumbled, the ground beneath their projection quaking slightly as it spoke.

“And bury it deeper in the process,” Dialga countered sharply, its eyes glowing with temporal energy. “No, we need him alive—for now. I believe he may prove useful to us temporarily.”

Groudon grumbled but refrained from further argument, the two titanic forces silently watching Max as their plans simmered in the depths of their shared mind.

Chapter Text

The flickering lights in the stark, sterile hallway cast fleeting shadows on the glass walls of the cells. Max watched as the dim glow illuminated the broken forms of his fellow prisoners. Across from him, the muffled sobs of "64" echoed through the silence, a haunting reminder of their shared despair. She sat slumped in her padded cell, the straightjacket constraining her every movement.

“Anything wrong, 64?” Max asked softly, his voice heavy with a resignation born of years in captivity.

“The sun,” she whispered through trembling breaths. “65 made a sun yesterday… and I can’t stop thinking about how we haven’t seen the real one in years.” Her words broke into quiet sobs, her head resting against the cushion wall.

Max turned his gaze to the far corner, where 67 sat hunched over, his unkempt scales glinting faintly. He giggled to himself, scratching erratic shapes into the glass with his claw. “Who needs the sun?” he muttered, his grin wide and unsettling. “That giant ball of gas, ready to explode and burn us all to ash!” His laughter ricocheted off the walls.

“Good morning to you too, 67,” Max muttered, his tone dry but hollow.

“Every morning is a good morning, 69,” 67 replied with a maddening chuckle, dragging his claw slowly across the glass to draw a crude, sad face. His grin never faltered.

Further down the row, the soft shuffling of movement signaled the awakening of the siblings, 65 and 66, 65 approached the glass and asked, “Did anyone sleep well?”

“No,” Velvet snapped as she stood, her movements slow and deliberate. Her voice dripped with disdain as she glared at 67. “No thanks to someone masturbating like it’s his last night alive.”

“Oh, 70,” 67 crooned mockingly, tilting his head at her. “Haven’t you considered that we might already be dead? This—” he gestured around at the grim confines of their prison, “—could be hell.”

“I really hope not,” 64 whispered from her corner, her voice fragile.

Max tried to lighten the suffocating mood. “Perhaps it’s time for our entertainer to perform,” he suggested, nodding toward 62, the Charizard whose optimism had earned him respect among the group.

62 didn’t look up, his voice flat. “Later. After whatever horrors they have for us today.”

Max’s gaze shifted to MX-463, the smallest of their group. His trembling form slowly rose, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion. “Please,” 463 whimpered, “let it be one of the easier days.”

“What do you mean, 63?” Velvet asked, her voice softening.

“We just… we just had a test yesterday,” 463 stammered, his words faltering. “I don’t think I can handle another one. I can’t…”

Velvet approached the glass separating them, her voice gentle but firm. “Whatever it is, 63, we’ll survive it. Yes, it’ll hurt, but we’ll get through it. We always do.”

“I just want it to end,” 64 interrupted, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. “All of it. This isn’t living—it’s just endless suffering.”

“No, 64,” Velvet said, her words carrying a desperate conviction. “I know it feels like there’s no way out, but there has to be hope. Somewhere. We just have to hold on a little longer.”

64’s sobs grew louder, her body shaking. “There is no hope,” she choked out between breaths. “We’re just here to suffer… waiting for death to finally take us.”

The group fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a thick, suffocating fog. The faint hum of the facility’s machinery was the only sound, a cruel reminder of the cold, unfeeling system that kept them trapped.

60 finally stirred from her corner, her voice breaking through the gloom with a faint spark of hope. “I have an idea,” she said, her tone shaky but determined. “We keep referring to each other by our numbers—like we're nothing. I think we need real names.”

The others turned to her, their weary eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and doubt.

“Yeah,” Max—69—said after a moment, nodding slowly. “That’s… not a bad idea.”

“I’ll go first,” 60 announced, standing a little taller. She hesitated, then smiled faintly. “I want to be known as OJ.”

From her cell, 61 let out a surprised laugh. “OJ? Why?”

“Because,” 60 replied, gesturing vaguely to the dull orange hue of her scales, “our scales are orange. And… I don’t remember what orange juice tastes like, but I think I used to like oranges. At least, I think I did.”

61, inspired by OJ, straightened up in her cell, a glint of optimism in her eyes. “I want to be known as Ho-oh,” she declared, her voice carrying a rare spark of pride. “The legendary Pokémon.”

OJ nodded with enthusiasm, her grin widening. “Yeah, girl, that’s the spirit. Ho-oh it is. Alright, 62, your turn. What’s your name?”

The Charizard in question tilted his head thoughtfully, staring at the stone walls of his cell. “Atomic,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet but steady.

“Atomic?” 67 asked, scratching his chin with a claw. “Why Atomic?”

62—now Atomic—shook his head slowly, as though the name had simply appeared in his mind without explanation. “Don’t know,” he admitted. “It just… feels right.”

Ho-oh chuckled softly. “It’s fitting. There’s something explosive about you.”

Atomic smirked faintly, a glimmer of something unfamiliar passing over his face—pride, maybe, or a fleeting sense of belonging.

63 pressed his hand firmly against the glass, his voice trembling but sincere. “I’m Tough,” he said. “Yeah, it’s dumb because I’m smaller, weaker than all of you, but I like to think that I’m stronger than I appear.” His gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to challenge his declaration.

Silence followed, broken only by the soft clinking of metal as 64 shifted in her straightjacket. Her head hung low, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I’m not participating,” she muttered, her voice hollow and distant. “There’s no reason for names.”

Tough took a hesitant step closer to the glass panel separating them, his smaller frame outlined by the sterile light of the cell. He pressed his palm against it, as though the simple gesture could reach her. “Please, 64,” he urged softly. “A name for yourself is worth more than anything. You deserve that much.”

64 didn’t respond at first, her breathing uneven as the room fell quiet again. It felt like an eternity before she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sky,” she said, almost tasting the name on her tongue as if it were foreign. Her voice cracked with emotion. “Named after my mother.”

The room was still. Even 67, usually quick with a snarky comment, remained silent, sensing the weight of her words.

“Sky,” Tough repeated gently, a small, encouraging smile on his face. “It’s perfect.”

65 and 66 shared a silent moment, their eyes meeting as they communicated. After a pause, 65 stepped forward, her expression resolute. “Well, you may call me Alpha.”

66, standing beside her, gave a slight nod, his voice calm yet firm. “And I’m Omega.”

The room seemed to hold its breath for a second as the names hung in the air. OJ, grinning, nodded with approval. "Alpha and Omega."

Ho-oh, her voice soft but sincere, added, "Perfect names for the perfect siblings."

67 suddenly jumped up, his laughter echoing through the sterile, oppressive space. His movements were erratic, almost manic, but his voice carried a strange sort of pride. “Red! I'm Red!” he declared, his claws scratching a jagged mark on the glass as if to cement his chosen name.

The others exchanged glances, a mix of amusement and concern.

68, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. His tone was steady, yet tinged with determination. “And I’ll be Blaze,” he said simply, the name carrying a quiet strength.

69 looked around, his eyes lingering on the numbers etched into each of their enclosures, the cold reminder of their identities as experiments: the first two letters, "MX," standing out like scars. Slowly, he stood, his gaze steady despite the weight of his words.

“I’m Max,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the silence. “After the MX part of our serial numbers. So that I won’t forget where we come from.”

70 stepped forward, her voice soft but steady as she broke the lingering silence. “I’ll be Velvet,” she said, pausing for a moment as if weighing the words. Her eyes dropped to the cold floor before meeting the others. “It was the name of my trainer’s favorite dessert.”

The room fell quiet again, the weight of her choice settling over them. Velvet’s voice carried not just a name, but a memory.

Max gave her a nod, a gesture of understanding. “Velvet it is.”

The door opened with a cold hiss, and the sterile sound of footsteps filled the room. Several scientists walked in, their presence instantly shifting the atmosphere. Sky, still restrained in her straightjacket, tumbled onto the soft cushion floor of her cell as Jigglypuff’s lullaby played through the space. Her glass enclosure slid open, and two scientists stepped in, dragging her limp form out. The other Charizards watched in silence, their concern painted clearly across their faces.

Max’s eyes followed Sky as she was pulled away. His body tensed, his growl low and rumbling, a sound of unbridled hatred. The glow of his scales intensified, the faint outline of veins blazing like molten lava coursing beneath his skin. The scientists halted abruptly as the woman among them noticed the sudden shift.

“Wait,” she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Her gaze fixed on Max, narrowing as she observed the strange reaction unfolding before her. His scales shimmered unnaturally, as if both Groudon’s and Dialga’s DNA within him were stirring, awakening with his fury. “Put her back in,” the woman ordered. “I think MX-469 here is showing promising results.”

Sky’s limp body was unceremoniously dropped back onto her cushion, the glass door sliding shut with a mechanical thud. The scientists turned their attention fully to Max. He stood frozen, looking down at his arms as the fiery glow of his veins faded. The searing heat that had risen in his anger was replaced by a cold wave of fear.

The realization hit him hard—this wasn’t a simple outburst. Whatever they’d done to him was reacting, evolving into something he couldn’t yet understand. His gaze shifted to the others, their faces a mix of worry and dread. For the first time, Max wasn’t sure what scared him more—the scientists or what was happening inside him.

————————————————————

Giovanni stood in silence, his sharp eyes scanning the Ryme City skyline. The once-thriving metropolis was now a patchwork of cranes and scaffolding, a testament to its ongoing recovery from the catastrophic events that had unfolded just months ago.

Simon entered the room quietly, leaving his Lucario stationed outside the door. He paused for a moment before speaking, his tone measured but respectful. “Howard Clifford is dead, sir.”

Without turning, Giovanni’s voice cut through the air, calm but heavy with authority. “Did Team Cipher ensure all evidence of our involvement was destroyed?”

Simon nodded, stepping closer. “Yes, sir. They were thorough. There’s nothing that can be traced back to us.”

Giovanni finally turned, his gaze piercing as he regarded Simon. “Good. We can’t afford any loose ends.”

Simon cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “You also have a transport ready for Gloire City. Apparently, Dr. Isha has something incredible for you to see there.”

Giovanni raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Incredible, you say? Did he elaborate?”

“No, sir,” Simon replied, shaking his head. “He insisted you see it in person. Something about Project Tsar.”

Giovanni’s lips curled into a faint smirk, his interest piqued. “Then I won’t keep him waiting. Prepare everything. I want updates on Operation Heal as soon as I return.”

Simon bowed slightly. “Of course, sir. I’ll see to it.”

————————————————————

Max’s heart raced as he woke in the sterile, boxed room, the stark walls pressing down on him with an oppressive weight. He froze for a moment, his breath catching when he realized his body wasn’t bound. His claws instinctively flexed as he surveyed the room, his gaze settling on the large rectangular window cut into the wall above him. Behind it stood Dr. Isha, watching him with a twisted smile of satisfaction.

Max’s muscles tensed, and he pushed himself upright, his clipped wings twitching in frustration. He focused on the window, his mind burning with defiance. Determined to escape, he launched himself upward, only to crumple back to the floor, his body betrayed by his mutilated wings. The failure stung, but he didn’t stop. With a deep inhale, he unleashed a blazing Flamethrower aimed directly at Isha.

The room filled with the roar of fire, but an electric shimmer erupted before the observation window, shielding the doctor. The flames dissipated harmlessly, leaving Max panting, his chest heaving with exertion and rage. His claws dug into the smooth floor as he let out a broken sob, tears of frustration rolling down his face.

Dr. Isha chuckled from behind the glass, his voice calm yet condescending. “Still a fighter, aren’t you?”

Max’s head snapped up, his glare searing through his tears.

Isha folded his arms, his smug expression unwavering. “You know, somehow I always knew you were the one. Most of the others—” He paused, his tone dripping with disdain. “—are either too weak physically or mentally. They gave up. Some try to escape, but their strength falters. One even tried to end her own life. Pathetic.”

Max’s fists clenched, his body trembling with fury at the doctor’s callous words.

“But you,” Isha continued, leaning closer to the glass, “you’re different. You just keep testing us. At first, I thought you were a lost cause, the one we’d have to terminate. But that fire inside you… that unrelenting spirit… It’s allowed us to achieve something remarkable.”

Max snarled, baring his teeth, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and fury. He didn’t know what Isha meant, but he knew it wasn’t for his benefit.

The door slid open with a low, grinding noise, and a metal arm extended into the room, dragging a caged Alolan Raichu inside. The Raichu’s fur was marred with the label MX-313, its small body twitching erratically as electricity crackled and sparked around it. Max recoiled, crawling to the farthest corner of the room, his body instinctively drawing away from the unsettling sight.

“Don’t be afraid, 469,” Dr. Isha’s voice echoed from above, cold and detached. “313 here is just going to scan your brain, remove anything that might threaten us.”

The cage door clicked open, and at first, the Raichu remained motionless, twitching and spasming. But then, its eyes locked onto Max, and something in its gaze seemed to snap. The creature stepped out of the cage, its movements jerky and unnatural, as though it were being controlled by something other than its own will.

Max’s heart raced in his chest as he pushed himself further into the corner, but Raichu's sparks continued to dance in the air, crackling and buzzing around the room. Max tried to move, to escape, but Raichu's presence overwhelmed him. Its psychic energy slammed into his mind like a tidal wave, filling his thoughts with confusion and pain.

He felt his past slipping away, like sand through his claws, memories crumbling and dissolving. The first faces of his life, his trainer’s warm smile, the rows of apartments where they lived peacefully—each image faded, consumed by the electric storm within him.

Instead, the void left behind was quickly filled with cold, disjointed images. The experiments. The harsh, clinical rooms. The screams of the others as they, too, were subjected to the same cruel fate. Those memories were all that remained. But then, something darker began to slip in.

Groudon’s heat, like a blazing desert, flooded his thoughts, overpowering the fading recollections of his past. Dialga’s cold, unrelenting flow of time seeped in next, distorting everything. Their thoughts, their ancient presence, merged with his own, pushing him further away from who he once was.

It was as if Raichu's psychic energy wasn’t just scanning—it was inviting these alien forces into his very essence, intertwining their will with his. His own mind, once his own, felt foreign now, altered. Raichu stood as the silent conductor, guiding the flood of foreign thoughts as they took root in his consciousness, replacing the life he once knew with the grim reality of his current existence.

The Raichu, its task complete, twitched erratically before retreating into the safety of its cage. Sparks still crackled faintly around its broken form as the metal arm whisked it away. Max, left alone in the aftermath, slumped to the cold floor. His eyes glowed faintly with an unnatural light—a mix of crimson and azure, the essence of Groudon and Dialga intertwining within him. His body lay limp, a shell burdened by the unbearable weight of the psychic intrusion.

In his mind, Max was dragged into a psychic plane, a vast void that seemed endless and suffocating. He felt heavy, his thoughts slow and disjointed, as though chains bound him to the empty space. But far in the distance, tremors rippled through the void. Two titanic forms loomed, silhouettes of immense power: Groudon, its magma veins pulsing, and a three-legged Dialga, dragging its mangled form across the plane. Both titans stirred uneasily, their instincts warning of an anomaly, sensing their ancient powers from a foreign source.

From the shadows emerged a second Dialga, its form whole and unnervingly pristine, save for the blood dripping from the joint of its front leg. Its expression was of gratitude, its gaze fixed solely on Max. The titan approached without hesitation, each step silent yet filled with undeniable purpose. Lowering its head, the second Dialga clamped its jaws around Max’s tail, lifting him gently yet firmly. The Charizard dangled lifelessly, his glowing eyes flickering like a fading ember as exhaustion dragged him into unconsciousness.

The second Dialga turned and began its departure, its immense presence rippling across the psychic plane. Behind it, Groudon and the crippled Dialga remained oblivious, their unease growing.

————————————————————

The Charizards stirred from restless sleep at the sound of the heavy door creaking open. All eyes turned toward the figure entering the room—Max. His form was familiar, but something was off. His movements were slow, deliberate, like a puppet being guided by invisible strings.

“Char?” Velvet’s voice trembled, breaking the silence as she pressed her claw against the glass. The others watched with equal parts relief and unease, their faces painted with confusion.

Max didn’t respond. He stepped through the opening as the glass panel slid up to let him in, then shut with an echoing click behind him. The room felt colder. He stood there, his back to them, staring at the wall, motionless.

Slowly, the group grew quiet. Fear crept into their expressions as realization dawned—this wasn’t the same Max who had left them days ago. One by one, they lowered themselves to the floor, whatever happened to him was beyond their comprehension.

Velvet, however, couldn’t look away. She pressed her forehead against the glass, her claws trembling as her gaze locked onto Max’s glowing eyes. They pulsed with an unnatural light, an ominous mix of colors that seemed alive.

“Char…” Velvet whispered, her voice barely audible. A sinking dread took hold of her as she stared at him, hoping for any flicker of recognition, any sign of the friend she knew. But all she saw was emptiness, a shell of the Charizard she once l knew and loved.

————————————————————

Max soared through a sea of clouds, their soft white expanse broken only by jagged mountain peaks stabbing upward like nature’s spires. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a fleeting sense of peace, his wings carrying him effortlessly through the open skies. But that peace quickly gave way to confusion. How had he gotten here?

He glanced at his wings, both fully healed and beating strong against the wind. Panic rose in his chest as his eyes fell on his left wing. The tattoo—his serial number—was gone.

“What is this…?” he whispered, his heart racing as he scanned his surroundings. The freedom felt unreal, like a dream teetering on the edge of unraveling.

Overwhelmed, Max descended toward the mouth of a nearby cave nestled in the rocky cliffs. He landed roughly, his claws scraping against the stone as he stumbled to a halt. Panting, he leaned against the cool rock wall, trying to make sense of it all.

As he stood there, a sudden commotion broke his train of thought. A group of Charmanders darted past him, their small bodies glowing faintly in the dim light. Their laughter echoed through the cave, carefree and joyful.

Max turned, his eyes widening as he spotted Velvet in the distance, calling after the group with a warm smile on her face. Relief surged through him. “Velvet!” he shouted, his voice raw with emotion. He stepped forward, waving his claws to get her attention. “Velvet, it’s me! I’m here!”

But she didn’t react. She didn’t even glance his way. The Charmanders continued playing, running right through him as if he were nothing more than mist.

Max froze, his mind reeling. “What… what’s happening?” His voice trembled as he staggered back, his legs weak beneath him.

A deep rumble brought him back to his senses. He turned sharply, his eyes locking onto a massive figure sitting calmly nearby—Dialga. The legendary Pokémon's presence was both majestic and intimidating, its form shimmering faintly as if not entirely bound to this plane. Dialga’s gaze was steady, almost serene, as it regarded Max.

“Calm down,” Dialga said, its voice resonating with a timeless authority. The sound was enough to shake Max to his core, and he stumbled back further, his tail lashing nervously.

“You… what is this? What’s going on?!” Max demanded, his voice rising.

“From Psyducks to Charizards, Eevees, Pikachus, even Groudon… all Pokémon seem to worry too much,” Dialga mused, its gaze lingering on Velvet as she lovingly cared for the Charmanders, her actions full of a motherly tenderness.

Max watched Velvet for a moment, then turned his attention to Dialga, his confusion growing. “Why am I here?”

Dialga shifted its gaze down toward him, its eyes filled with ancient wisdom. “Because you fixed my leg.”

Max blinked, clearly bewildered. “Fixed your leg? How?”

“Not how,” Dialga corrected, “When.”

Max furrowed his brow, trying to process the cryptic response. “When?”

Dialga’s tone was steady but heavy. “I’m returning the favor. In your future, you helped me. So, I decided to help you with your past.”

Max’s confusion deepened. “How come you aren’t helping me in my future?”

Dialga paused, the weight of its words lingering. “There are two reasons. One, if you don’t escape, the series of events that will allow you to help me won’t happen.”

“And the other?” Max asked, his voice tinged with a growing sense of urgency.

Suddenly, the world around them shifted. Flowers bloomed at their feet, and the air was thick with the scent of earth. Max found himself standing under a tree, a lump of dirt nestled at its base. A carving in the wood of the tree caught his eye—his own name etched into the bark.

Max’s heart raced. “What happened?” he asked, voice trembling.

Dialga’s expression darkened, a rare sadness crossing its face. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

Max’s eyes water, a desperate plea in his voice. “Tell me I can change this. Please, tell me I can.”

Dialga’s gaze softened, but its response was heavy. “It’s not that simple.”

Max stared down at the mound of dirt, an uneasy silence wrapping around him. Dread seeped into his thoughts like a creeping shadow. “How did you bring me here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ll see,” Dialga replied cryptically, its tone calm yet firm. “Though I’m afraid you won’t remember this moment.”

Max looked up sharply, frustration flickering in his eyes. “Then what’s the point of any of this?”

Dialga’s gaze grew distant, as if peering through the layers of time itself. “I’m sending a message,” it said, its voice taking on a weighty significance. “A message to myself.”

Max frowned, the words not quite landing. “To yourself?”

“Yes,” Dialga said, its tone unwavering. “When the time comes, I and Groudon will try to kill you. But this message will save you.”

Max stepped back, the words rattling in his mind. “You’re saying you’re going to try to kill me?”

Dialga’s eyes met Max’s, its ancient expression filled with regret. “Yes. But Mewtwo and a few others will stall long enough for me to see into your memories and find this conversation.”

————————————————————

In the mortal world, several helicopters bearing the unmistakable Rocket logo descended upon Gloire City. The castle on the hill, its silhouette imposing against the night sky, activated its landing lights near the grand entrance. A purple helicopter touched down at the forefront while three sleek, black ones landed discreetly around the corner.

Dr. Isha stood at the entrance, his Sensu Oricorio by his side, her ghostly aura barely masking their own unease. The bird shifted her wings, and Isha straightened his lab coat, trying to appear composed as Giovanni stepped out of the purple helicopter, flanked by his two Persian, their gazes predatory and sharp.

"Dr. Isha," Giovanni greeted, his voice calm but commanding. "It’s been a while."

Isha cleared his throat, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. “I heard about the incident in Ryme City. Is Howard Clifford managing to... contain the situation?”

Giovanni’s expression darkened, his tone icy. “Clifford is no longer with us.”

The words hung heavy in the air, their weight making Isha hesitate. His gaze shifted momentarily to Giovanni’s entourage—security ninjas disembarking from the black helicopters. Half carried belts lined with Pokéballs, while the others bore weapons more advanced than Isha had ever seen. The cold sheen of the armaments glinted under the castle lights, exuding silent menace.

Swallowing hard, Isha forced a strained smile, his confidence faltering. It was clear that this was not a time to press Giovanni further. Instead, he shifted his stance, trying to mask his apprehension as Giovanni’s piercing gaze lingered.

“How are they?” Giovanni asked, his voice sharp and measured as his eyes flicked toward Isha.

Isha cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back. “We’ve forced their evolution twice, using the samples during each stage. The process appears to have made the fusion more stable and efficient.”

Giovanni gave a curt nod. “Good. And their cooperation?”

Isha hesitated briefly before answering. “The successful subject—MX-469—was exposed to MX-313 as part of the process. Since then, the Charizard has shown a high level of submission to commands.”

Giovanni’s gaze narrowed. “Show me.”

“Of course. This way.” Isha turned, leading Giovanni and his entourage to the lower basement level.

The air grew colder as they descended, the faint hum of machinery filling the silence. When they reached the monitor room, Isha gestured to a wall lined with screens, each one displaying footage of a different Charizard in its containment cell. With a quick glance, he discreetly turned off the monitor showing Red, avoiding unnecessary embarrassment.

He pointed to a screen displaying Max. The Charizard sat motionless, his back to the camera, staring blankly at the wall of his enclosure. His glowing eyes cast faint reflections against the glass.

“He’s been like this for a while,” Isha explained. “Unmoving, unresponsive to most stimuli. We suspect the procedure with MX-313 may have altered his behavior in unforeseen ways, but his obedience remains intact. He even ate some enhanced mushrooms without resistance for the first time since his captivity.”

Giovanni studied the screen intently, his expression neutral. After a moment, he turned to Isha. “Bring him in. I want to see for myself.”

Several scientists entered Max’s containment cell, their movements precise and rehearsed. Max rose from his position without hesitation, his glowing eyes dull and lifeless. He followed their commands without resistance, his body moving like a puppet on invisible strings.

In the adjoining cells, the other Charizards exchanged nervous glances, their concern evident as they watched Max leave without a word. Velvet pressed her claws against the glass, her expression pained as she whispered his name.

Just outside the containment area, the Alolan Raichu in its cage twitched violently, sending erratic sparks into the air. Its frenzied energy seemed to radiate dread, a forewarning of what was to come.

The scientists wheeled Raichu closer to the cells, its cage now positioned ominously in view of the remaining Charizards. The sight of the sparking Pokémon set off a wave of fear among them, each silently dreading that they might be next.

Meanwhile, Giovanni and Isha strode down the sterile corridor toward the large testing room. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet space, Isha’s nerves evident in his stiff posture.

“Are you confident the others will adapt as well as MX-469?” Giovanni asked, his voice cold and deliberate.

Isha glanced sideways, choosing his words carefully. “The process is unpredictable, but the results with MX-469 give us hope. Once we repeat the procedure, their resistance should diminish.”

Giovanni didn’t respond immediately, his sharp eyes fixed ahead. “Good. If they don’t comply, I expect you to find alternatives. Quickly.”

As they entered the expansive testing chamber, the stage was set for the next demonstration. Max stood in the center, awaiting orders, his glowing eyes tracking the movements of his handlers. Giovanni approached slowly, his gaze appraising as he observed the results of his latest project.

————————————————————

Tough was the first to be dragged out, his body limp as the faint remnants of Jigglypuff’s lullaby faded. Though still awake, he lacked the strength to resist, the overuse of the lullaby dulling its effects. He lifted his head weakly as they strapped him down, his eyes widening in terror as the Alolan Raichu approached, its cage opening.

The Raichu twitched violently before pressing its sparking body against Tough’s forehead, its psychic energy flooding his mind. Tough screamed in agony, his cries echoing through the corridor.

Within the psychic plane, Groudon and Dialga pinpointed one of the anomalies, their attention snapping to Tough as the disturbance became clear. Sensing the intrusion, they intervened. Tough’s physical body convulsed violently, his tail flame flaring and flickering as his mouth frothed, the strain overwhelming him.

The other Charizards watched from their enclosures, their faces stricken with fear. Velvet pressed herself against the glass, calling his name, but there was nothing any of them could do.

————————————————————

Meanwhile, in the testing room, Max stood motionless at the center. Blast shields covered the walls, and a laser tracked him, ready for activation. Giovanni and Isha entered the control room above, their eyes fixed on Max.

“Begin the test, make it a level 2 explosion,” Isha commanded.

The laser began to glow, charging before firing a concentrated beam of energy directly at Max. His body tensed as the energy coursed through him, his form beginning to shift and distort. Scales hardened, glowing veins pulsed across his frame, and his wings flickered with fiery energy despite being clipped.

Giovanni raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t a level 2 explosion relatively small?”

Isha smirked. “Level 1 caused significant damage to the test room. That’s why we upgraded to blast shielding—and even then, the entire facility still shook violently.”

Giovanni leaned forward, watching intently as Max’s transformation continued, the room trembling faintly from the growing energy surge radiating from the Charizard.

A small group of Carracosta was released into the testing room, their movements sluggish as they surveyed their unfamiliar surroundings. Confusion and unease were evident on their faces as they turned toward Max, whose glowing body radiated with unstable energy.

“What’s with them?” Giovanni asked, raising an eyebrow.

Isha smirked slightly. “Fire-types are weak against Water and Rock. These Carracosta are both, making them ideal for testing resistance and observing the extent of his destructive power. Their injuries will be... fascinating to study.”

One Carracosta instinctively tried to retreat, banging against the sealed door in panic. A strange hum of pressure filled the air. In an instant, Max’s body erupted in a violent surge of fiery energy. The laser and the Carracosta closest to him were vaporized, leaving nothing but scorch marks. The remaining Carracosta were thrown against the reinforced blast shielding, their shells visibly cracked despite having used Endure or Protect in time.

The facility trembled from the explosion, lights flickering as alarms briefly blared. On the surface, the shockwave rippled through Gloire City, causing streets to rumble and unsettling its inhabitants.

In the observation room, scientists jumped in their seats despite anticipating the result. Giovanni remained calm, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the aftermath. Below, Max collapsed to the ground, his body trembling in pain, the scales along his frame burned and peeling away.

“In the first test, Dialga’s energy healed similar injuries within sixteen hours,” Isha said confidently.

Giovanni stood, extending a hand to Isha, a rare smile crossing his face. “You’ve just made history, doctor.”

Isha hesitated for a moment, his expression faltering. “I have?”

Giovanni nodded to him with a faint smirk. “Yes. Have them prepared for transport. As for your family, I’d suggest relocating them to Ryme City.”

Isha blinked, confusion briefly flickering across his face. “Why Ryme, sir?”

Giovanni’s smile thinned, his tone growing colder as he turned to leave. “To ensure you don’t die from what you’ve created.”

————————————————————

Feeling the tremors shake the building, the remaining Charizards exchanged anxious glances. The Alolan Raichu abruptly stepped back, sparks flaring wildly as it let out a distorted scream, overwhelmed by the energy it encountered. Tough’s body suddenly went limp, his tail flame flickering out.

A shrill alarm rang out as the monitor detected his heart had stopped. The woman sighed, her expression cold as she checked his vitals.

With a nod, the scientists unceremoniously pushed Tough’s lifeless body aside, dragging it to a corner. The woman turned to the others, her voice sharp. “The rest of you better not die on me.”

Jigglypuff’s lullaby began to play in Velvet’s cage. Her breathing quickened in terror as she tried to resist, but soon, she succumbed to the melody and fell unconscious.

The others erupted in despair, some screaming for Velvet to wake up, others pleading with the woman to show mercy. Their cries echoed in the sterile room, unheard by anyone who cared.

————————————————————

In the testing room, Max's raw, exposed flesh began to shimmer as diamond-like scales rapidly formed across his body. His wings and tail multiply, the sound of his claws scraping against the stone floor reverberating through the room. With a guttural roar, Max unleashed an intense Flamethrower toward the observation window.

The blast shield activated, absorbing the energy as the flames pressed violently against it, the heat causing cracks to spider across the reinforced glass. Scientists in the room exchanged panicked glances before scrambling for the exits.

One scientist fumbled with his radio as alarms blared around them, calling Isha in desperation. “Sir, we have a problem.”

Outside, Isha stood watching Giovanni’s helicopters disappear into the horizon. He pressed the radio to his mouth, his expression darkening. “What’s happening?”

“The subject is trying to break free!” the scientist responded, his voice trembling.

“Break free? What do you mean—” Isha began, but his words were cut short.

A deafening crack echoed as the glass and shield finally gave way. Flames engulfed the room, reducing everything to ash within seconds.

“Hello? What’s happening down there? Report!” Isha shouted into his radio, but only static answered him.

Alarms screamed through the facility as Rocket trainers rushed into action, while scientists and staff scrambled toward the exits. The trainers released their Pokémon in haste, turning a corner to find Max, now a towering Diamond Charizard, standing amidst a blazing inferno. The heat radiating from his body melted metal pipes in mere seconds, the air thick with the stench of scorched debris.

“Cloyster, Ice Beam!” one trainer commanded.

“Golduck, Chilling Water!” another shouted.

The attacks hurtled toward Max, but the sheer intensity of his heat evaporated them before they could land. Max continued his slow, menacing advance, flames licking the walls and floor with each step.

“More water types, now!” a trainer yelled in desperation, releasing additional Pokémon. The group unleashed a barrage of ice and water-type moves, yet none could pierce the inferno surrounding Max.

Some trainers, recognizing the hopelessness of the situation, abandoned the fight, retreating down the smoky hallways. Others, refusing to concede, commanded their Pokémon to combine their attacks. Streams of ice and water merged into a powerful beam, momentarily filling the corridor with a cloud of dense steam.

As they peered into the obscured hallway, a sudden, deafening roar erupted from the mist. A wave of fire exploded outward, engulfing the entire hall. Screams were silenced as the flames consumed everything and everyone in their path, leaving nothing but smoldering ruins in Max's wake.

————————————————————

Velvet jerked awake, her heart racing as she struggled against the restraints. Her gaze darted to the woman attempting to calm the distressed Alolan Raichu, the alarms heightening her sense of dread. Panic surged through her as the noise filled the room, her hope slipping away—until the door began to melt.

Through the molten frame stepped Max, his diamond-encrusted scales shimmering in the flickering light. Velvet's eyes widened as the woman barely had time to turn before Max raised his hand. A sudden, intense heat radiated from her chest, her shirt igniting as she let out a gasp, her body collapsing into ash within seconds.

Velvet groaned as the restraints around her arms and legs began to smolder and disintegrate, freeing her. Across the room, the other Charizards watched in stunned silence as their glass cages melted away, liberating them.

The Alolan Raichu, wide-eyed and trembling, seized the opportunity to flee, darting out of the room in a blur of panic.

Max's glowing eyes locked onto Tough's lifeless form, his body still from the procedure that had ensued. Without hesitation, Max stepped forward, his six powerful wings unfurling as he gently lifted Tough onto his back. The Charizards, freed from their cages, followed closely behind, the flames of their once-prison burning through the air.

Max charged forward, unleashing a torrent of flames to carve a path through the rubble, the stone and dirt turning to vapor in seconds. The roar of his Flamethrower echoed through the halls, leaving a trail of destruction as they moved toward the surface.

Meanwhile, Dr. Isha walked through the remnants of the facility, the devastation apparent in every corner. Ashes and debris scattered in his path, the pungent scent of burnt metal and flesh filling the air. He stepped cautiously, eyes scanning the wreckage until he saw them—the shattered glasses, lying among the piles of black dust. He paused, the situation settling heavily in his chest.

————————————————————

Max winced as the sun's rays cut through the dense trees, his eyes adjusting painfully to the natural light after so many years under artificial bulbs. Velvet’s touch on his side brought him back to reality, her voice barely a whisper, comforting him despite the overwhelming discomfort.

Near the water's edge, OJ and Sky had carefully placed Tough’s lifeless body on a small wooden boat, draping it in leaves to shield him. Their eyes were wet with grief, the weight of their loss heavy. One by one, the group gathered, dipping their tail flames into the leaves, a silent tribute to their fallen friend.

As Alpha and Omega gently pushed the boat out onto the water, the flames from their tails illuminated the scene, the fire consuming the boat slowly, tenderly, as it drifted away. The flickering fire reflected on the surface of the water, a mournful glow in the quiet aftermath. It was a moment of loss, but also of remembrance, as each Charizard stood together, honoring Tough in their own way.

Chapter Text

The group trudged through the sprawling desert, their footsteps muffled by the soft sand beneath. The shade of the canyon walls offered some respite from the blazing heat, though the oppressive sun loomed just beyond the cliffs. Max walked slightly apart from the others, his gaze frequently darting upward toward the rocks above. The lingering presence of the legendaries weighed heavily on him, though he said nothing about them.

Francisco stretched his arms with a groan, glancing over at Kiawe, who held a worn map in his hands. "How much longer until we get to Neon?" he asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

Kiawe squinted at the map, then nodded toward a distant hill. "Should be just over that ridge," he replied confidently.

"Finally," Eclipsa muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. "This heat is brutal."

"Ser-il," Servine agreed, her leafy form wrapped snugly in her own vines, which comfortably wrapped around Goodra’s shoulder like a living backpack.

Kiawe’s Charizard walked beside him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she noticed Max’s frequent glances toward the canyon’s upper reaches. Following his line of sight, her gaze shifted to the jagged rocks above, scanning the shadows as if trying to discern what had captured his attention. The rocks remained still and silent, but an unease settled over her nonetheless.

As the group ascend the hill, they paused to take in the sight of Neon Town sprawled out before them. The city's center, dominated by towering resorts and casinos, stood in stark contrast to the surrounding desert landscape. During the day, the city appeared eerily quiet, its vibrant nightlife yet to awaken. The resorts were encircled by a mix of small, bright white buildings and houses with orange-red roofs, seamlessly blending the suburbs into the arid environment.

"Seems eerily quiet from here," Eclipsa remarked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Kiawe nodded, understanding her observation. "That's because Neon Town's sleep schedule is flipped. You'll see once the sun sets.”

As the group began their descent into the canyon, Kiawe leaned close to his Charizard, whispering, "Keep an eye out for Meowth’s gang and Mewtwo, wherever he might be."

Charizard gave a firm nod. "Charizard," she replied before spreading her wings and taking to the skies.

Max watched her ascend, his gaze locked on her silhouette as she flew toward the city. His eyes drifted to his own clipped wings, their jagged scars a painful reminder of what he'd lost. He flexed his wings subtly, his expression tightening.

Goodra noticed the tension and leaned closer. "Goodra?" he asked softly, his concern evident.

"Charizard," Max said, gesturing dismissively to reassure him. But his tone lacked conviction, and the gesture felt hollow.

Eclipsa and Francisco exchanged a glance, both recognizing the silent storm of emotions Max was trying to suppress. Though he insisted he was fine, it was clear to them that the weight he's carrying is heavy.

————————————————————

On the rooftop of one of Neon Town's Breeding Centers, Decidueye perched, its sharp eyes trained on Kiawe's Charizard soaring above. Altaria, sitting nearby, let out a soft call, "Altaria!" It motioned to a group of Durants, signaling them to move. One of the Durants scurried down the side of the building, slipping through a small window.

Deep inside the center, a room was cozy but dim, furnished with rich reds and plush pillows. Meowth was sprawled lazily in a large red bed, surrounded by a Salazzle and a Vaporeon, both asleep and snuggled close to him. The peaceful silence was interrupted by the sharp ringing of a phone on the nightstand. Salazzle lazily reached over, grabbing it and handing it to Meowth with a disinterested flick of her tail.

Meowth groaned as he rubbed his eyes, still bleary from sleep. “It better be good, the sun is still out…” he grumbled, his mood already foul. After listening for a moment, he furrowed his brow. “His Charizard, are you sure?… Follow it, and let me know if you see Kiawe.”

As he hung up, both Salazzle and Vaporeon nuzzled him affectionately, and he sighed, a small smirk forming despite his irritation. "Why do I feel like you two are the only ones who listen to me?" he muttered, his attention now split between the call and the soothing presence of his female companions.

————————————————————

As they walked the bustling streets of Neon Town, Eclipsa held up the photo, showing it to staff at every hotel they passed. Minutes turned into hours, the blue sky fading into shades of orange before finally giving way to the deep black of night. As the sun disappeared, the city came alive, neon lights illuminating the streets and casting vibrant colors across the exhausted group.

When they finally stopped in front of a massive resort, its blazing red neon sign reading Hotspot Casino, Francisco exhaled in relief. “Well, this is the place.”

“Exactly what are we doing here again?” Kiawe asked, his arms crossed as he eyed the garish sign.

Eclipsa turned to him, holding up the photo. “We’re going to see if we can get any records from them. Ask about the group in the photo and, hopefully, figure out if they’re still here. If they are, Max can reunite with them.”

“Reunite?” Kiawe raised an eyebrow.

Eclipsa hesitated, but Max reluctantly nodded in confirmation. “We didn’t want to tell you at first,” she admitted.

Francisco added, “We barely knew you in the beginning, so we didn’t trust you. Granted, that was days ago, and you haven’t done anything suspicious.”

But before he could finish, Kiawe interrupted, his tone dry. “Mewtwo literally threatened my existence. Also... where is Mewtwo anyway?”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, the question lingering uncomfortably in the air.

“Charizard,” Max said firmly, gesturing to the entrance. The group moved forward, stepping inside the casino. The lobby was massive, bathed in hues of red, orange, and white, the fiery theme dominating the decor. Most of the guests were accompanied by fire-type Pokémon, their warm tones blending seamlessly with the setting.

Goodra and Servine exchanged uncertain glances, both feeling out of place in the inferno-inspired atmosphere.

Kiawe raised an eyebrow, scanning the room. “Are you sure this is the place? It’s pretty heavy on the fire-type theme.”

Eclipsa held up the photo to him. The image depicted a smiling family surrounded by Charmanders, Charmeleons, and Charizards. “Considering this family seems to have a thing for Charizards, I’d say this is as good a place as any to start.”

The group approached the reception desk, where a trainer was already in the middle of an argument with the receptionist, his Magmar standing by his side. He waved a ticket angrily. “What do you mean the gyms in this resort are closed?”

The receptionist, looking visibly drained, replied calmly, “Sir, please. We don’t have control over what the PIA or the Battle Agency decides.”

“But they’re in the same building as everything else here!” the trainer retorted, frustration evident in his tone.

“That may be true,” the receptionist said with a shrug, “but technically, we don’t own them. We just host them. I can, however, offer you a refund.”

“Forget it,” the trainer snapped before storming off. His Magmar lingered for a moment, bowing politely to the receptionist, almost as if apologizing for his trainer’s behavior, before following him out.

Eclipsa and Francisco stepped forward, but before either could speak, the receptionist cut them off with a weary sigh. “If this is about the gyms, let me save you some time. All gyms in Neon Town are closed. If you want to complain, at least let me call someone else to deal with it.”

“Wait, hang on,” Eclipsa said quickly, stopping her from leaving. “We’re not here about the gyms.”

“Yeah, we’re just looking for someone,” Francisco added reassuringly.

"Thank you," the receptionist said, her voice trembling slightly as she almost teared up. Her Numel, perched behind the desk, bit off a tissue from a nearby box and handed it to her with a gentle nudge.

“Are you okay?” Kiawe asked hesitantly, concern in his tone.

The receptionist took a deep breath, wiping her eyes before offering a weak smile. “I started my shift two hours ago, and you’re the first people who haven’t come here to yell at me.”

Eclipsa and Francisco exchanged a glance, feeling a pang of sympathy as she dabbed at her face and straightened up, her expression quickly shifting back to a professional demeanor. “Sorry about that. How can I help you?”

Eclipsa handed the photo over, her expression softening. “I know this might be a big ask, especially considering what you’ve dealt with the past two hours.”

The receptionist gave a tired laugh and corrected, “Make it two weeks since the lockdown.”

Eclipsa winced sympathetically but pressed on. “Well, we’re looking for these people, and we’re hoping you might have a record of them checking in at some point.”

The receptionist glanced at the photo, then sighed. “Anything to get me away from this desk.” She stepped out from behind the counter, her Numel loyally waddling beside her. “Come with me, I'll take you to my boss.”

“We’d also like a room,” Francisco reminded, glancing around the lobby.

The receptionist seemed to light up at the request, her weariness momentarily fading as she quickly moved back behind the counter. “Of course! What type of rooms are you looking for?”

“I’ll be in my own, thanks,” Kiawe said firmly, crossing his arms.

Eclipsa added, “And something for the rest of us, preferably close together.”

The receptionist nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Got it. I’ll find something that suits all your needs. Give me just a moment.” She glanced at her Numel, who gave an encouraging snort as if cheering her on.

————————————————————

At Neon Town's Airport, the sleek black plane from Saffron City came to a stop, its engines rumbling softly. Kiawe's Charizard stood nearby, her eyes trained on the plane as it settled. Ash, Pikachu, and the rest of the group disembarked, stretching and adjusting their gear.

“Hi, you and Kiawe located Max?” Ash called out, walking toward Charizard.

The Charizard nodded slowly, acknowledging the question. Ash turned to the others as they joined him.

“Okay, guys, we’re here for two reasons,” Ash said, looking around at the group. “One is to find Max and bring him in.”

“And the other?” Iris asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I believe it’s to see an old friend,” Brock replied, a knowing look crossing his face. “Though you weren’t specific on who this friend is.”

Serena’s curiosity piqued. “Yeah, tell us.”

Ash hesitated for a moment before answering. “It involves a former Team Rocket member.”

Brock and Iris exchanged confused glances, but it was Serena who pieced it together. “Wait, you're not going to that Breeding Center?”

Brock tilted his head, “Doesn’t a Pokémon run that place?”

“A Meowth, actually,” Ash said with a slight grimace.

The realization hit all of them at once. Serena, Iris, and Brock all knew exactly who Ash was referring to, and the unease in the air was palpable.

“You can't go there, he's dangerous,” Brock exclaimed, his concern evident.

“Plus, isn't that place Pokémon-only? No humans allowed. If you get caught in there, they might kill you,” Serena added, crossing her arms in worry.

Ash gave a reassuring smile, though it didn't reach his eyes completely. “Don’t worry, I have Pikachu for that. He’s going to be my eyes and ears in there.”

“Pika!” Pikachu chirped confidently, standing tall on Ash’s shoulder, his expression matching his trainer’s.

“In that case, I'm going with,” Brock said, his resolve clear.

“You two fine with the Charizard?” Ash asked, looking toward Iris and Serena.

Iris chuckled. “You two got the hardest part. How much trouble can one Charizard get into anyway?”

“Alright, see you tomorrow morning,” Ash said, waving as he and Brock headed for one of the two cars nearby, Pikachu jumping into the back.

“Alright, Serena, let’s go catch us a Charizard,” Iris said, climbing into the other car.

Serena turned to Kiawe’s Charizard and said, “Take us to where they’re staying. We’ll follow you.”

With a nod, the Charizard took to the air, and the cars set off in pursuit, following her lead.

————————————————————

As the group settled into their hotel room, Max reclined on a bed of burning rocks, the soft glow of embers reflecting in his eyes. Meanwhile, in the hallway, the hotel manager approached Eclipsa and Francisco.

“I’ve looked at the photo, and I’ve found a match,” the manager began, his tone cautious. “In fact, they stayed here after the incident in Ryme City.”

“Really?” Eclipsa’s eyes lit up with hope.

The manager nodded. “Yeah. Neon Town is famous for having more hotel rooms than anywhere else on the planet, so the PIA made arrangements to send many refugees here after the disaster.”

“Do you know if they’re still here?” Francisco asked, leaning in.

“Or where they went?” Eclipsa added quickly.

“Well, that’s the tricky part,” the manager admitted, his expression darkening. “It’s obvious they wouldn’t have stayed forever, so I checked the check-out records. But… the entire year after the disaster has been wiped from our system. I couldn’t find anything.”

“Perhaps there’s a backup somewhere?” Eclipsa asked, her tone hopeful.

“Same thing,” the manager said, shaking his head. “When I asked around, I found out we’re not the only casino that had a full year vanish from our systems. It’s like someone didn’t want anyone to track anything from that period.”

“Did you at least get a name?” Eclipsa pressed, her frustration growing.

The manager hesitated before nodding. “Just the last name—Lizardon.”

Francisco’s eyes widened. “That’s... fitting, considering.”

Eclipsa clenched her fists. “It’s not much, but it’s something. Thank you.”

“I wish I could do more,” the manager said sincerely. “But if someone deliberately erased those records, then there's probably nothing more I can do.”

“Thank you,” Eclipsa said as the manager nodded and walked away.

Inside the room, Goodra sat on the floor flipping through a small booklet of attractions. His eyes landed on a particular page—a zip line that stretched across the neon strip of the city. He glanced over at Max, lying on his bed of hot rocks, his scarred and clipped wings catching Goodra’s attention.

“Go,” Goodra whispered to Servine, nudging her gently and showing her the page. He nodded toward Max, hoping to spark some interest or distraction for their friend.

As Eclipsa and Francisco returned to the room, Servine approached them with the booklet. “Servine,” she said, holding it up and pointing to the page.

Eclipsa took the booklet and smiled as she saw the zip line. “That could be fun,” she said. “Maybe after some rest, we can give it a try.”

Francisco grinned, looking over her shoulder. “Yeah, why not? It could be a good break for everyone.”

Servine nodded enthusiastically, but Max remained silent, his eyes shut as if blocking out the conversation entirely. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to care about whatever they were planning.

In the other room, Kiawe worked silently, his hands deftly assembling a gun from the various parts in his bag. His expression was tense, his focus unwavering, until a knock at the door broke his concentration. He hesitated for a moment, then approached the door cautiously, peering through the peephole. Recognizing the visitors, he relaxed and opened the door, allowing his Charizard, Iris, and Serena to step inside.

“Where’s Ash?” Kiawe asked, glancing behind them.

“He went to deal with the Meowth,” Iris answered, brushing past him.

Serena’s gaze fell on the partially assembled gun. “Why do you have a gun?” she asked, her voice sharp with concern.

Kiawe shrugged, returning to his work. “I may have done something at Meowth’s Breeding Center that made him hate me—a lot.”

“Last I checked, he hates everyone who goes against him,” Iris said, crossing her arms.

“Well, then I guess I’m top on his list,” Kiawe replied with a confident smirk, snapping another piece into place.

Serena wasn’t convinced. “What about Max—the Charizard we’re trying to get? Where is he?”

“He’s in the other room,” Kiawe said, nodding toward the adjoining wall. “But there’s a Mewtwo with him. I’d suggest you don’t engage until I can figure out what Mewtwo’s plan is.”

“Mewtwo?” Iris asked, her expression shifting to alarm. “Why would Mewtwo be involved?”

Kiawe put the gun down for a moment, his face serious. “Isn’t it obvious? Both of them—Max and Mewtwo—were experiments. Sick, twisted projects by Team Rocket to turn them into weapons of mass destruction.”

Serena and Iris exchanged uneasy glances.

“And now?” Serena asked quietly.

“Now,” Kiawe said, resuming his assembly, “we wait, until we know where Mewtwo is and get it and the Charizard separated. We observe.”

————————————————————

Ash and Brock sat in the car, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound as they watched Pikachu and Toxicroak approach the entrance to the Breeding Center. Ash adjusted the earpiece in his ear, testing it. “Pikachu, can you hear me?”

“Pika!” Pikachu responded with a nod, his voice clear through the receiver.

Brock, keeping an eye on the scene outside, leaned forward. “Wouldn’t Meowth recognize your Pikachu right away?”

“Probably,” Ash admitted, his tone casual. “But they need to talk to him anyway, so it won’t matter much.”

Brock frowned, glancing toward the line of Pokémon waiting to enter the center. A Machamp stood as a bouncer at the door. “Where do you think all their trainers are?” he asked.

Ash shrugged, his gaze fixed on the monitor. “Probably gambling or distracted by something else. Neon Town residents don’t exactly follow the same rules as the rest of the world.”

In the alley beside the Breeding Center, Pikachu climbed onto a dumpster, prying open a small window. He slipped inside silently, landing on the floor with practiced ease. Toxicroak, standing by a side door, waited. Pikachu’s cheeks sparked, sending a controlled discharge into the security system, causing the locks on the side door to click open.

Toxicroak slipped inside, nodding to Pikachu. They both adjusted their collars, activating the small cameras hidden within. Back in the car, Ash and Brock watched as the live feed from the cameras flickered to life on their monitors.

“We’re in,” Ash confirmed, his voice calm but focused as he watched Pikachu and Toxicroak navigate the dimly lit hallways of the center.

Pikachu and Toxicroak padded quietly down the dim hallway, the muffled bass of the music growing louder as they approached the main floor. The double doors swung open, revealing a wild and chaotic scene. The dark open space pulsed with colored laser lights that danced across the room. Pokémon of all kinds were on the dance floor, moving to the heavy beats, while others lounged in shadowy corners, sipping from glowing drinks.

A few Pokémon, wearing small aprons, carried trays of pills, discreetly offering them to others. The atmosphere was electric, but there was an undercurrent of something darker.

Pikachu’s sharp eyes darted upward to the third floor. His gaze locked onto a hallway bathed in deep red light, guarded by a stern-looking Obstagoon and a Sableye. The two Pokémon stood at attention, their post making it clear that whatever was up there was off-limits to the crowd below.

“Pika,” Pikachu said softly, nodding toward the hallway above.

“Tox,” Toxicroak responded with a quiet grunt, signaling his understanding. He followed Pikachu’s lead as they began to weave through the crowd, carefully avoiding drawing attention to themselves as they made their way toward the guarded staircase.

Brock eyed the trays of pills being passed around by the Pokémon servers, his expression tinged with disbelief and curiosity. “Are those... anti-fertility pills? At a Breeding Center? The irony is off the charts.”

Ash shrugged. “Like I said, Neon Town plays by its own rules.”

Before Brock could respond, the quiet hum of the street was shattered by a cacophony of noise. Pokéballs around them popped open in quick succession, releasing several Pokémon. A massive Tyranitar emerged from the group, its heavy footsteps causing the ground to tremble as it approached the car. Without hesitation, the Tyranitar raised one colossal foot and slammed it down with Stomping Tantrum, utterly annihilating the engine. The hood crumpled like paper, leaving Ash and Brock stranded in the wrecked vehicle.

A slow, deliberate clap echoed from the shadows. Turning, Ash spotted Meowth stepping into view, flanked by his Vaporeon and Salazzle. The trio radiated smug confidence.

“Nice to see you again, Ash,” Meowth sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

Ash crossed his arms, unfazed. “Was that really necessary, Meowth?”

Meowth grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You think I care? Spoiler alert—I don’t. Now, what brings you here? Is Pikachu out scouting for a mate tonight?”

Inside the Breeding Center, Toxicroak and Pikachu stood frozen in place, their earpieces crackling with Ash’s and Brock’s voices, when Toxicroak spotted a Lopunny approaching with a tray of pills. Before he could react, the Lopunny swung the tray with startling force, slamming it across Toxicroak’s face. The impact sent him stumbling back, and the Pokémon around them immediately scattered in confusion, unsure of what was happening. A few seconds later, the crowd erupted into cheers, clearly enjoying the unexpected spectacle.

One of the servers, a Gardevoir, quickly dropped her own tray and rushed forward to try and restrain Toxicroak, but Pikachu acted fast. With a sharp flick of his tail, he used Tail Whip on the Gardevoir, sending her stumbling back and giving Toxicroak enough time to recover his footing.

Back in the car, Brock and Ash were watching the monitor, their faces filled with concern as they observed the chaos unfolding on the screen. “This is bad,” Brock muttered, his brow furrowed.

Ash clenched his fists. “We’ve got to get in there.”

Meowth’s smug grin widened as he gestured around them. “Are you guys talking about your Pokémon, who I clearly saw through the cameras here? I’ve got this whole block monitored, fools.”

As he spoke, Pikachu and Toxicroak stood ready to defend themselves, but before they could make a move, they were struck by tranquilizer darts, and the world around them blurred. Pikachu fought to stay awake, his eyes flickering, but the drug was too strong. Both of them collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Brock’s eyes narrowed in anger as he watched the scene unfold. He turned sharply to Meowth. “How did you get your hands on PIA-issued darts?”

Meowth simply shrugged, unfazed. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you clearly want to talk, and sure, I’ll let you, but only on my terms. Deal?”

Ash's expression darkened as he glanced at Brock. “Sorry I dragged you into this, Brock.” He whispered. “We agree, but we just have some questions.”

Meowth nodded, a sinister glint in his eyes. “Good. Tangela, take these two in.”

With a flick of his paw, the vine-covered Tangela emerged from the shadows. Its tendrils shot forward, wrapping around Brock and Ash’s wrists, forcing them to follow Meowth as he turned and walked back into the Breeding Center. The two of them were led toward the building, their minds racing as they tried to figure out how to turn this situation in their favor.

————————————————————

Max lay on the bed of hot rocks, his eyes closed, until Servine gently tickled his nose with a leaf. He grunted in response, reaching up and grabbing the leaf. "Char?"

"Servine!" she called, motioning for him to follow as the group began to prepare.

Eclipsa smiled, though Max remained doubtful. "We have something for you."

Max didn’t respond immediately, but followed along, still unsure of what was happening. They made their way down to the neon strip, the vibrant lights flickering around them. Servine held a large leaf over Max's eyes, blocking his view as they guided him forward.

Max tried to lift the leaf but Francisco quickly stopped him. “Not yet, it’s a surprise.”

"Charizard." Max muttered, still a bit confused, but the curiosity in his tone grew.

The group continued, and soon, the bright lights of the zipline came into view. It stretched across the neon strip, offering a thrilling ride over the glowing city below. Eclipsa couldn’t help but grin as she prepared to reveal the surprise.

They ascended several levels, reaching the platform that overlooked the neon-lit walkway below. Max was gently positioned in front of a large window, giving him a perfect view of the zipline as it stretched across the vibrant strip.

"Alright, now," Francisco said, as Servine let go of the leaf she'd been holding over Max’s eyes.

Max blinked, his gaze falling upon several people and Pokémon soaring down the zipline, their figures lit up by the neon lights of the city. He tilted his head, his curiosity piqued.

"Chh?" he questioned, unsure of what to make of it all.

Francisco smiled and asked, "May I ask you something? Have you ever flown before? In your normal form, that is."

Max glanced down at his clipped wings, then back at the zipline. Eclipsa stepped forward, her voice soft. "We noticed how you reacted when you saw Kiawe’s Charizard take flight, so we wanted to give you the experience, at least for a little while."

As Max slowly pieced everything together, realization dawned on him. His heart swelled with emotion. Without warning, he threw his arms around Eclipsa and Francisco, tears welling up in his eyes. "Charizard," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.

Eclipsa gently patted him on the back. "You're welcome," she said with a warm smile, her heart touched by the moment.

"Goodra!" Goodra hesitated for a moment, looking at the zipline and then at the others. He was clearly unsure, but Max, still caught up in the excitement, released his grip on Eclipsa and Francisco. The Ride Operators quickly secured a harness on him, and though Goodra had second thoughts, Servine wasn’t about to let him back out. Without a word, she gave him a playful push before leaping off the platform herself.

"Servine!" she shouted, her voice full of joy as she soared through the air. Goodra's initial panic melted away, replaced by a sense of exhilaration as he felt the rush of wind against him. The unease he’d felt faded as he adjusted to the ride, a smile slowly creeping across his face.

Next, it was Eclipsa and Francisco's turn. They both climbed onto the platform at the same time, exchanging a quick smile before they were harnessed in. Max, his wings twitching with anticipation, watched them as they took their turns.

Finally, it was his turn. The operator guided him to the edge, and Max hesitated for a split second. The wind whipped around him, and he glanced down at his wings. The damage was still there, but his heart raced as he realized what this moment meant. With a final push, he leaped off the platform.

The wind rushed past him as Max spread his wings wide, his body lifted by the force of the air. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt truly free, the air around him singing with the sound of his wings cutting through it. His joy soared, mirroring the exhilaration of the ride.

“Wow!” Eclipsa cheered, watching him with a proud smile. Max’s heart swelled with happiness as he glided down the zipline, the world around him blurring into a vibrant mix of lights and color.

As Kiawe watched the Charizard zipline down with a mix of curiosity and envy, an Unown with glowing purple eyes floated silently toward him. He tensed as he slowly noticed its presence.

“Hello, Mewtwo,” he said, his voice wary.

The Unown’s glowing eyes pulsed ominously as Mewtwo's voice resonated through it. “Who are they?”

“Who’s what?” Kiawe asked, feigning ignorance, though his posture stiffened.

“The two women who visited your hotel room.”

Kiawe glanced at the Unown, unsure if Mewtwo was projecting through it or outright controlling it. “Iris and Serena,” he admitted cautiously.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten that you have no control over the Charizard.”

“And you do?” Kiawe shot back, folding his arms. “You were made in a lab, remember? Meanwhile, he carries the power of Dialga and Groudon in him. Who’s to say he isn’t more powerful than you?”

The Unown's glow flared as Mewtwo's presence intensified. “You humans are all the same—arrogant and shortsighted.”

“Tell that to the Charizard whose humans just gave him a taste of flying,” Kiawe retorted.

“And who exactly clipped those wings in the first place?” Mewtwo’s voice cut like a blade, the air around Kiawe seeming to thrum with latent psychic energy.

Kiawe turned fully toward the Unown, his frustration boiling over. “Listen, Mewtwo, I don’t want a fight. We both know what happens if he starts to lose control.”

“That’s why I’ve been training him. In his dreams.”

Kiawe scoffed. “Dreams? The PIA has a facility where he can train in real life.”

“And how do you plan to get him there?” Mewtwo’s voice was now sharp and mocking. “Try to capture him, and you risk him exploding. Is that worth the gamble?”

“Well, considering Team Rocket and every other lunatic out there wants him, it’s a gamble we might have to take. Or do you prefer the alternative? Him being used against innocent lives?”

The Unown began to vibrate, its purple glow casting harsh shadows as Mewtwo’s rage spilled over. “Do you honestly believe Team Rocket can’t infiltrate your precious PIA and take him back whenever they please? You’re a fool if you think a cage can protect him—or anyone else.”

Kiawe felt the weight of those words, his bravado faltering for a moment. “So we’re stuck, then,” he muttered, his voice quieter.

Serena approached cautiously, her eyes flicking to the glowing Unown. She picked up on the tension immediately and tried to interject. “I wouldn’t say stuck,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “We’re trying to protect him, Mewtwo. To bring him somewhere safe, away from those who would hurt him or use him.”

The Unown floated closer, its glow intensifying, and Mewtwo’s voice filled the air like a thunder. “And you think locking him up will help him? You’d only be trading one prison for another. Leave him be. He needs freedom—not chains disguised as safety.”

The psychic energy around them buzzed with restrained fury, leaving Kiawe and Serena both feeling the weight of Mewtwo’s power and conviction. Iris, who was listening, approached the Unown, her gaze sharp and unwavering. “And what about the incident in Ryme City?” she asked, her voice laced with a mix of accusation and curiosity. “Howard used your power, Mewtwo, and it left a scar on that city. Thousands died. Thousands more were injured.”

The purple glow in the Unown's eyes flared as Mewtwo snapped back. “You think I don’t know that?” His voice echoed with anger, but also a trace of guilt.

Iris held her ground. “I’m just saying, your mind-transfer thing caused Pokémon to attack their trainers, some even fused their minds together permanently. And what did you do afterward? You ran off and hid. Why?”

The energy in the air shifted as the purple glow around the Unown dimmed slightly. Mewtwo’s tone softened, though a tinge of frustration remained. “Alright, I get it. I hid in a cave because of the destruction that my powers caused when they were abused. But don’t mistake that for a lack of compassion. I’m not heartless.”

Iris crossed her arms. “Then why are you so fixated on Max?”

Mewtwo paused before responding, his voice tinged with both concern and urgency. “Because Max is stronger than me. Far more dangerous. and unstable.”

“Why?” Iris pressed.

The Unown swiveled slightly to face her, the faint glow returning. “Because he carries the minds of two Legendaries—Dialga and Groudon. Their power and their influence haunt him constantly. I’m trying to figure out how to train him without them interfering.”

The Unown turned to Kiawe. “You should understand this better than anyone. You saw it happen.”

Kiawe sighed, brushing a hand through his hair as he stepped forward. “Yeah, I saw it. Team Rocket wants to use him. Dialga and Groudon are in his head, pushing him to the edge. And if we try to take him in, we risk everyone around us. Rocket will target us, too.”

The Unown pulsed again, this time more softly, as Mewtwo’s voice steadied. “Now you understand. The only way to solve this is for Max to learn to control the power inside him—before it's too late.”

Serena pulled out her phone, her expression tightening as she dialed Brock and Ash’s number. The ringtone buzzed endlessly, each ring stretching longer than the last. She glanced at the screen, furrowing her brow. “They’re not answering,” she muttered.

Iris, noticing Serena’s unease, quickly pulled out her own phone and attempted to call Ash. She pressed the phone to her ear, waiting, but was met with the same silence. “Nothing,” she said, worry creeping into her voice.

Mewtwo, still speaking through the Unown, broke the silence. “I suggest you go check on your friends.”

Before they could respond, the purple glow in the Unown’s eye vanished, leaving it disoriented. It blinked a few times, its movements unsteady, as though waking from a deep trance. Then, without another sound, the Unown floated away, leaving Serena, Iris, and Kiawe to exchange looks of mounting concern.

“We need to find them. Now,” Serena said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. Iris nodded, already moving.

Perched silently on a telephone line, a Noctowl watched Kiawe and his group intently, its sharp hearing picking up every word of their conversation. As it listened, an uneasy realization crept over the Pokémon, its gaze shifting to the Charizard in the distance. Following Kiawe's line of sight, the Noctowl’s eyes locked onto the tattoo etched on the Charizard's body—the serial number identifying Max. Fear seized the Noctowl as the weight of the discovery sank in, and without hesitation, it spread its wings and took flight, soaring swiftly toward the Breeding Center to relay the information to its master.

————————————————————

In Meowth’s dimly lit bedroom, the air was heavy with tension as Tangela carefully tied Ash to a metal pole positioned in front of the plush, oversized bed. Meowth waved off his female companions, the room falling into a quiet stillness once they departed. With Ash securely bound, Tangela escorted Brock to a separate area where Pikachu and Toxicroak were being held, the door closing with a final, metallic thud behind them. Ash glanced around at the lavish, red-cushioned interior and smirked. "Nice place you’ve got here."

Meowth’s expression darkened. “It was, until you showed up. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

“I know, Meowth," Ash replied calmly. "But I also know you’ve got secrets about Team Rocket—especially whatever they’re doing beneath Mahogany Town.”

“You mean Rocket Headquarters? What makes you think I’d know anything about that?” Meowth asked, narrowing his eyes.

Ash’s grin widened. “Because I’ve heard rumors, Meowth. That you’ve made a career out of gathering intel—using your more beautiful, seductive Pokémon to exploit others. You plant them where their instincts take over, where secrets spill out without anyone even realizing it. You’ve been playing the game long enough to have dirt on everyone.”

Meowth’s eyes flickered with a mix of irritation and amusement. “So, the PIA’s finally noticed.”

Ash raised an eyebrow, his grin not fading. "That, and your large supply of anti-fertility pills. Kind of defeats the whole point of a Breeding Center," he teased.

Meowth scowled. "Anti-fertility pills can still fail. What I’ve got is a lot stronger, a lot more effective. We’ve even flavored them. Pokémon come here to fool around, not procreate."

Ash leaned forward, intrigued. "Who supplies them?"

"We make 'em here," Meowth replied with a sly smirk. "But you can’t have any. They don’t work on humans." His tone shifted, becoming darker. "As for Rocket headquarters, I know something’s off. It’s like a serious case of déjà vu. And it’s not just me—it’s every Pokémon I’ve talked to. Whatever they’re doing down there, it’s dangerous, and it’s strong.”

The sharp tapping of beak against glass echoed in the room, drawing Meowth’s attention. He walked over and opened the window, allowing Noctowl to fly in. “Noctowl,” Meowth greeted, his tone expectant.

“Noctowl, Noctowl,” the bird Pokémon responded urgently.

Meowth’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from smug to alarmed as he turned to Ash. “You didn’t tell me Charizard, the one Rocket’s hunting, is here.” His voice faltered, clearly unsettled by the revelation.

"Leave him be," Ash suggested firmly. "He's too dangerous to bother with."

Meowth chuckled, dismissing the warning. "Nah, I think I'll capture him. Send him to Rocket. They'll pay a hefty reward to get him back."

Ash’s tone grew sharper, laced with urgency. "Meowth, you can't. He's too unstable. Capturing him could cause him to explode."

"Pros outweigh the cons," Meowth replied coldly, waving off Ash's concerns. He turned to Noctowl. "Find the Charizard and get him here alive. I don’t care how you do it."

"Noctowl," the bird Pokémon acknowledged with a nod before leaping back through the window, disappearing into the night sky.

Ash’s voice lowered, trembling with a mix of fear and frustration. "I hope you didn’t just doom this entire city."

————————————————————

As the group waited for the monorail to arrive, Max stood silently, his eyes lingering on the streets below where the legendaries stood. Despite their ominous presence, he quickly averted his eyes, unwilling to let them disrupt the peace the zipline had given him. Eclipsa soon returned, a tote bag slung over her shoulder, filled to the brim with treats. "Guess what, guys? I got snacks!”

“Servine!” Servine chirped excitedly, stepping forward as Eclipsa handed over a piece of candy.

“They were giving them away, so I grabbed as much as I could carry,” she explained, grinning.

Max reached into the bag and pulled out a shiny red piece of candy. He popped it into his mouth, savoring the taste with delight. “Char,” he murmured appreciatively.

Francisco’s voice drew their attention. “Here it comes.”

The monorail approached with a mechanical hiss, its sleek frame gleaming under the lights. As it came to a stop, the doors of the front two cars slid open, inviting passengers inside. However, the back car remained dark and sealed, its lights conspicuously off. They stepped onto the monorail, only for a few figures dressed in black to follow them aboard, their presence heavy and deliberate.

One of the figures, noticing the bag of snacks Max was reaching into, moved closer to Eclipsa. With practiced subtlety, he positioned his gun under his jacket and wrapped the fabric around Eclipsa, pressing the weapon into her side. She gasped, her eyes wide with alarm, but he quickly shushed her. The tension in the air became palpable as the others noticed the exchange. Goodra instinctively stepped forward, but Servine held him back, her sharp eyes catching the faint glint of the hidden gun.

"Try not to panic," the man said in a low voice, his tone calm but laced with menace. "There's a lot of people here."

"What do you want?" Eclipsa asked, her voice steady despite the fear flickering in her eyes.

"We want the Charizard," the man replied without hesitation.

"You can't have him," Francisco said firmly, stepping between the man and Max, his body tense and protective.

The man tilted his head, an air of condescension in his demeanor. "Perhaps I wasn’t clear," he said, his voice dropping even lower. "You see, he’s not just a Charizard. He’s a very expensive science experiment, and Rocket is quite eager to get him back.”

“Charizard,” Max growled, his voice low and threatening, barely managing to keep his anger from boiling over. The monorail hissed to a stop, and the man gestured for them to get off. Reluctantly, they complied, watching as he guided Eclipsa toward the darkened back car. The other figures dressed in black followed close behind, their movements precise and deliberate.

As the monorail began to move again, the window of the back car slid open. A piece of paper fluttered out, caught quickly by Servine’s outstretched vine. She handed it to Francisco, who unfolded it with haste, his brows furrowing as he read the cryptic message aloud:

"Ask Kiawe?"

The group exchanged uneasy glances, the words raising more questions than answers. Max’s tail flame flickered fiercely, the glow reflecting his barely restrained fury.

————————————————————

At the resort, Iris and Serena waited in the lobby while Kiawe spoke quietly to his Charizard. The doors swung open as the group arrived, and Max immediately locked eyes with Kiawe, striding toward him with purpose.

“Hey, big guy, I was wondering—”

Kiawe didn’t get the chance to finish before Max grabbed him by the neck, slamming him to the floor with a force that echoed through the lobby. Gasps filled the room as trainers and fire-types instinctively backed away, their instincts screaming caution.

Kiawe’s Charizard reacted instantly, lunging to pull Max off. But the moment her claws touched his shimmering, burning scales, she recoiled with a hiss of pain, blistering burns spreading across her palms. “Char!” she snarled, glaring at Max, who stood over Kiawe, his eyes glowing a dangerous red.

“Max! What are you doing!?” Francisco rushed forward, panic in his voice as he took in the rage radiating off Max. “We need him alive!”

Servine acted quickly, summoning Grassy Terrain. Tendrils of plants surged up to restrain Max, only to smolder and burn as they touched his overheated scales. With a final effort, the vines managed to pull him back, leaving Kiawe gasping for air. Iris and Serena rushed to his side.

“Arceus above, are you okay?” Serena asked, her hands trembling as she helped Kiawe sit up.

“What... in Moltres’ name is that?” Kiawe rasped, his Charizard stepping between him and Max protectively, her claws flexing despite her injuries.

Francisco, noticing the pulsating glow under Max’s scales, carefully approached him. “Max, look at your arms,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension.

Max glanced down, his breath catching at the sight of the shimmering, fiery energy coursing just beneath his scales. His breathing hitched before he forced himself to slow down, taking deep, calming breaths.

“Goodra, Servine,” Francisco ordered, his tone steady but urgent. “Take Max to the hotel room to cool off.”

“Goodra,” the dragon nodded, guiding Max toward the stairs with Servine close behind. Francisco watched them leave, then turned back to Kiawe. “We’ll need answers—and fast.”

“Really? You want answers after you just tried to kill me? Ouch!” Kiawe shouted, wincing as he touched his neck, the skin red and seared from Max’s grip.

“Yeah, well, Eclipsa was taken,” Francisco shot back, his tone sharp and unyielding. He stepped closer, meeting Kiawe’s glare with one of his own. “We didn’t have time for pleasantries.”

Kiawe’s Charizard growled low, her blistered claws flexing as she stood protectively in front of her trainer. Serena and Iris exchanged uneasy glances, tension thickening the air.

“Taken?” Iris repeated, her voice softening slightly as the weight of Francisco’s words sank in. “By who?”

Francisco’s jaw tightened. “Team Rocket. And your name was on the note they left behind, Kiawe. So, start talking.”

“It wasn’t Team Rocket,” Kiawe clarified, his voice firm. “There’s this Meowth who runs a Breeding Center. He’s got connections to Team Rocket—and pretty much everyone else.”

Francisco’s eyes narrowed. “And you never thought to mention this, knowing full well they’d pull something like this?”

Kiawe let out a frustrated sigh. “Because I’ve been trying to figure out what Max’s trigger is while doing everything I can to avoid it. So, you can imagine my hesitation when I heard you all wanted to go to Neon Town. Bringing them up could’ve easily been the thing that set him off.”

“You didn’t have to come with us,” Francisco countered, his tone sharp.

“Somebody had to keep an eye on that Charizard,” Kiawe shot back, unwavering. “The PIA doesn’t want to deal with the fallout if Max blows up.”

Francisco’s agitation was evident as he looked up at them, his gaze sharp and focused. “How do we get in?” he demanded.

Kiawe’s eyes widened, then he winced, rubbing his still-sore neck. “You want to go in there?”

“They have Eclipsa, so yes,” Francisco replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Iris crossed her arms and added, “They also have Ash and Brock.”

Kiawe pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly. “And I’m assuming that since they took Eclipsa, they know about Max?”

Serena stepped forward, her voice calm but urgent. “We should probably discuss this somewhere more private.”

The group glanced around briefly, then quietly left the lobby and headed upstairs. In the room, Servine and Goodra stood uneasily, their eyes fixed on Max, who leaned against the balcony railing. His shoulders were tense, his gaze distant, and his entire frame radiated an unstable energy that made them hesitant to even breathe too loudly. Despite their concern, they knew running wasn’t an option—there was nowhere safe from him if he lost control.

Mewtwo, sensing the turmoil boiling within Max, materialized silently behind him. Its eyes glowed with intensity as it addressed him. “Are you in there, Charizard?” Mewtwo demanded, its gaze fixed on the pulsating energy surging beneath Max’s shimmering scales.

Max didn’t respond. His hands trembled as he raised them to his face, attempting to hide his anguish. He ducked his head, a low growl escaping as the pain seemed to overwhelm him.

Seeing this, Mewtwo stepped forward and placed a hand on Max’s head. The psychic aura flared to life, enveloping them both in a pulsating, otherworldly light.

The surging energy coursing through Max’s scales began to subside, gradually dissipating. His grip on the metal railing slackened, revealing it to be bent and distorted from the heat. Goodra and Servine both exhaled deeply, their tension easing. Max turned toward them, his body still trembling, as the door opened and the others entered the room.

Francisco wasted no time, striding directly to Max. “How are you feeling?” he asked, concern etched into his face.

Max’s voice caught in his throat as he gasped, “Chari,” before collapsing to the floor, tears streaming steadily down his face.

Mewtwo hovered closer, its voice calm but firm. “That was close. I’ll admit you did a good job containing the energy, but you redirected some of it internally. It’s caused internal bleeding. I suggest you rest for a while and recover.”

Max nodded weakly, his body sagging with exhaustion. Francisco and Goodra stepped in, carefully helping him to his feet and guiding him to the bed of hot rocks in the corner. Max slumped onto it, letting out a shaky breath as the warmth began to soothe his aching form.

In the hallway, Kiawe carefully wrapped bandages around his Charizard’s blistered hands, the fire-type wincing slightly at the touch. Francisco stepped out to join him, his expression serious. Inside the other room, Iris and Serena busied themselves with preparations, their determination evident.

“Mewtwo will stay by Max’s side to heal his injuries,” Francisco announced, glancing between the group. “As for us, we need to go and get them out of there.”

Serena, holding a small jar of black ink in her hands, looked up with a spark of resolve. “I have an idea,” she said, her tone steady but brimming with intent.

————————————————————

At the Breeding Center, Eclipsa was shoved into a dimly lit room adorned with dark red furniture. Tangela meticulously secured her to a metal pole, positioning her next to Brock and Ash, who were similarly restrained. Before Tangela could leave, Eclipsa shouted, her voice echoing in defiance. “You made a grave mistake bringing me here! You’ll never get Max—never!”

Brock glanced at her with curiosity. “You know that Charizard?”

Eclipsa turned toward him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Brock.”

“And I’m Ash,” the other responded.

Eclipsa’s eyes widened. “The Ash? Ash Ketchum?” she gasped. “Why are you here?”

Ash raised an eyebrow. “The real question is, what are you doing with a superweapon?”

“Max isn’t a superweapon,” Eclipsa snapped. “At least... he’s trying not to be.”

A sharp cry interrupted their conversation. “Pika!” Pikachu’s voice rang out as the small Pokémon stirred, tied to the wall with his limbs bound. Beside him, Toxicroak remained motionless, still in slumber.

Outside, Meowth stood waiting impatiently, tapping his foot against the cobblestone alleyway as a truck pulled in, its sides adorned with glowing advertisement screens casting pink hues across the narrow passage. From a nearby window, Durant crawled down, its metallic body glinting faintly in the neon light as it approached him. “Durant,” it chittered.

Meowth smirked, snapping his claws. “They’re here. Places, everyone.”

At the entrance, Francisco and Goodra approached with Kiawe’s Charizard by their side. The tension in the air was palpable as they neared. Machamp, stationed by the door, let out a low growl, its gaze fixed intently on the Charizard, as if recognizing something—or someone. Tyranitar stepped forward, its massive frame looming as it gestured for them to follow.

Leading them into the alleyway, they were met with an imposing sight—a cryo chamber nestled inside the truck, its reinforced glass frosted over, faint blue light illuminating its chilling contents. Meowth’s grin widened as they drew closer. "Welcome," he said, his tone dripping with smugness.

Francisco stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Where’s Eclipsa and the others?”

Meowth smirked, flicking his tail. “So, Kiawe told you about Ash and Brock, huh? Fine, we’ll release them too. But first…” He gestured to the cryo chamber with a smug grin. “…the Charizard. Go on, Max.”

“Charizard?” she whispered to Francisco, her voice trembling with hesitation.

Francisco leaned closer, his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay. We’ll be right behind you.”

She swallowed hard, nodding. Taking a deep breath, she approached the cryo chamber. Decidueye, standing guard, narrowed its sharp eyes as she moved past, glancing suspiciously at her wing. She paused as Decidueye lifted its feathered hand, carefully inspecting the faint serial number and emblem inked onto her scales.

The group held their breath, tension crackling in the air as Decidueye scrutinized the markings. After what felt like an eternity, it stepped aside, giving her a subtle nod. The ink held its shape, undetected. Decidueye ushered her into the cryo chamber, and the others exhaled in quiet relief, the first hurdle passed.

Inside the chamber, she hesitated, her tail flicking nervously, before stepping fully into the frosted confines. The door closed with a soft hiss, leaving the others waiting for her to freeze.

Meowth let out a mocking laugh as Tyranitar slammed the truck's door shut. “Man, that was too easy! You actually thought I’d just let you guys walk outta here?”

Before anyone could react, thick, writhing tentacles shot out, coiling around Goodra and pinning him in place. Francisco lunged to help, but Decidueye moved faster, vanishing into a shadowy blur with Shadow Sneak. It reappeared behind him, sweeping his legs out from under him and slamming him to the ground. Before Francisco could recover, Decidueye pressed him down with sharp precision, its wings flaring menacingly.

“Goo!” Goodra choked, straining as the tendrils tightened mercilessly around his neck. His eyes darted toward Francisco, desperation clear in his gaze.

“Goodra!” Francisco shouted, struggling against Decidueye’s grip. His eyes burned with fury as he turned to Meowth. “Stop this, Meowth! Let him go!”

Meowth merely smirked, his tail flicking lazily. “What, you thought this was a negotiation? Oh, you're way over your head.”

Francisco’s jaw tightened, as he glared at Meowth. “Take me instead,” he demanded, his voice firm. “But let Goodra and Eclipsa go.”

Meowth’s grin widened, his whiskers twitching with cruel delight. “When I told Giovanni I found his Charizard, he gave me specific instructions. Said to bring along all his friends. Makes it easier to keep that overgrown lizard in line.” Meowth tilted his head mockingly. “Though I suppose we could let Goodra stay behind. After all, the slime he secretes will save us a fortune on lubricant.”

Goodra froze, his eyes wide with horror, before his expression twisted into pure disgust. “Goo!” he growled, thrashing harder against the tentacles holding him.

Francisco’s fists clenched. “You’re sick.”

“Maybe,” Meowth replied with a shrug, his smirk unrelenting. “But I’m also smart. See, I’m just waiting for your pal Kiawe to show up. Once he does, I’ll finally get to kill him. Man, this is shaping up to be the best night ever!”

Meowth’s chuckle echoed ominously as Francisco glared at him, seething with anger but powerless for the moment.

The truck’s engine roared as it started down the alley, the advertisements on its sides flickering in the dim light. Serena, seated behind the wheel of their car, watched it closely. She waited for the truck to round the corner before starting her engine, trailing it from a safe distance to avoid suspicion. Her focus was razor-sharp, determination etched on her face.

Meanwhile, inside the club, Alolan Marowak and Fraxure moved cautiously through the crowded interior, weaving past patrons and staff. As they reached the staircase leading to the upper floors, the servers began to take notice of Marowak, their movements subtly shifting to encircle him. Marowak paused, sensing the tension, and turned to Fraxure with a firm nod, silently instructing her to retreat and press on alone.

Fraxure hesitated but obeyed, backing away carefully before darting up the stairs. Above, on the rooftop, Altaria perched as a silent lookout, scanning the city below. Suddenly, a sharp, dark projectile struck her neck, her eyes widening in surprise before she collapsed unconscious.

The sudden attack sent the swarm of Durants patrolling the rooftop into a frenzy, their metallic cries echoing as they scuttled to form a defensive perimeter. Before they could mount a counterattack, a canister arced through the air and landed among them, releasing a thick, noxious gas. The poisoned air caused chaos, scattering the swarm in disarray.

From the shadows, Iris and Kiawe emerged, using the confusion to their advantage. They moved swiftly, making their way to the rooftop entrance while the Durants flailed helplessly in the toxic haze.

The dance floor pulsed with flickering lights and pounding music, a cacophony of sound and motion as Pokémon swayed to the beat. Alolan Marowak moved with precision, his sharp eyes locked on the three closing in—Lopunny and Gardevoir advancing from the front, while a normal Marowak prowled behind him. He scanned the crowd, calculating his next move.

His gaze landed on a Nidoking and Nidoqueen dancing closely, their movements synchronized as they lost themselves in the music. Acting quickly, Marowak slipped between the pair, crouching low to avoid detection. The couple's imposing frames shielded him as he carefully navigated their steps, ensuring not to disrupt their rhythm or draw attention.

Lopunny and Gardevoir paused, scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes, while the normal Marowak tightened her grip on her bone club, her stance tense and ready. She prowled the dance floor, her eyes darting through the sea of Pokémon, determined to find her target.

Alolan Marowak kept his movements subtle, blending seamlessly with the chaotic energy of the club, his instincts sharp as he planned his next move. The music roared on, masking the tension building in the room.

Fraxure hurried up the staircase, sparing a quick glance down at her partner, who remained hidden between the two large Pokémon. Her focus shifted as she reached the red hallway at the top of the stairs. She barely had time to assess her surroundings when Obstagoon stepped forward, claws raised, attempting to block her path.

“Obsta,” Obstagoon suggested.

Instead of retreating, Fraxure lunged forward, clamping her jaws around his hand with a powerful Bite, then used her momentum to drag the larger Pokémon off balance and send him tumbling down the stairs. The commotion drew the attention of Sableye, who darted toward her with a Sucker Punch. Fraxure pivoted, raising her tusks just in time to deflect his attack upward, using his own momentum to topple him down the stairs as well.

Obstagoon quickly recovered, his claws gleaming as he growled in frustration. With a sharp roar, he activated Hone Claws, sharpening his talons into deadly weapons. He charged forward, slashing at Fraxure with a swift, vicious strike, leaving three deep, parallel scars across her side. Fraxure winced but stood her ground, turning to face him with narrowed eyes and bared tusks.

The normal Marowak finally caught sight of the Alolan Marowak, weaving through the crowded dance floor. Her frustration mounted as she realized she couldn’t reach him through the shifting sea of bodies. Growling in annoyance, she pulled back her bone club and hurled it with expert precision—a Bonemerang—aimed to cut off his escape.

The spinning bone struck Nidoking mid-dance, causing him to stumble backward and crash into a table, knocking over several trays of brightly colored pills. Nidoqueen immediately rushed to his side, concern etched on her face as the chaos spread. The crowd around them parted slightly, and for a moment, the two Marowaks locked eyes, their rivalry clear in their tense stances.

Normal Marowak caught her returning bone mid-air, her grip tightening as she charged forward, her gaze never leaving Alolan Marowak. He gave her a wary glance, the flickering lights casting sharp shadows across his face, before darting deeper into the club.

High above the chaos of the dance floor, Iris and Kiawe slipped onto a side platform overlooking the entire club. Here, the human side of Meowth’s team was stationed, armed with sniper rifles loaded with sleeping darts. One of them spotted the intruders and raised his weapon, but Iris and Kiawe were faster, firing their own darts with pinpoint accuracy and knocking the guard out before he could pull the trigger.

The momentary victory was short-lived as other guards rounded the corner, their weapons loaded with live ammunition. Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks echoing through the building and causing the Pokémon below to panic and scatter in a frenzy. The once-crowded dance floor rapidly cleared as Pokémon scrambled for the exits.

Kiawe pressed himself against the platform's low wall, firing back at the advancing guards to keep them pinned down. Meanwhile, Iris grabbed one of the fallen sniper rifles and aimed it downward, scanning the floor for her team. Her eyes locked on Fraxure, who was about to get attacked by Sableye. Just as the sneaky ghost prepared to strike with a Shadow Claw, Iris took a steadying breath and fired.

The dart hit Sableye squarely, sending it crumpling down the stairs before it could land its attack. Fraxure glanced up, spotting Iris on the platform. With a grateful nod, Fraxure refocused on the approaching Obstagoon, ready to continue the fight.

Meanwhile, Marowak chased Alolan down to the basement, the heavy scent of sex in the environment overwhelming him as Pokémon hurried upstairs to escape the gunfire. Arcanine, his fur matted with sweat and semen, growled menacingly, ready to block Marowak’s path. “Marowak!” the normal form called to him.

“Alola!” Marowak shouted in return, charging forward with his bone club raised. The two Pokémon collided, their clubs clashing with sharp cracks. Each strike was met with fierce retaliation as the two Marowaks dueled, bone against bone, the sound of their battle echoing through the basement. Marowak’s eyes narrowed with intensity, her muscles straining with each blow, while the Alolan form held his ground, blocking and countering with swift, calculated movements. Arcanine, standing at the side, observed the fight closely, his growl low and rumbling as he waited for the right moment to strike.

In the hallway, Francisco and Goodra were ushered into the pink-lit room, Tangela leading the way. As Tangela opened the door, Servine suddenly sprang into action, slashing through Francisco and Goodra’s bindings with a swift Leaf Blade. Tangela froze in shock, its vines twitching, but Toxicroak was quicker, launching a Sludge Bomb that coated Tangela in toxic acid. The Grass Pokémon writhed in pain, letting out a garbled cry, just as Pikachu followed up with a precise Charge Beam. Tangela let out one final scream of agony before collapsing unconscious, its vines limp and smoldering.

“Eclipsa, are you okay?” Francisco asked, rushing to her side as they embraced tightly.

“Yes, I’m so glad you're here,” Eclipsa said, her voice trembling with relief.

Meanwhile, Goodra, finally free, stomped over to the unconscious Tangela and began kicking it furiously. “Goodra!” he growled, his expression twisted in disgust as he vented his rage on the defeated Pokémon.

Brock, watching the scene unfold, raised an eyebrow and turned to Francisco. “What’s wrong with him?”

Francisco let out a strained chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Pika,” Pikachu called out softly, padding over to Goodra and gently nudging him. The electric mouse urged the dragon to stop, his expression calm and steady. Goodra hesitated, his anger still simmering, but eventually kicked Tangela one last time before stepping back.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ash said, guiding everyone as they exited the room.

Above, on the platform, the gunfire had ceased. Meowth emerged from the shadows, his trademark smirk on full display, while his female companions lingered at a safe distance, observing the tense standoff.

“Come on out, Kiawe,” Meowth taunted, his voice echoing across the space. “Let’s finish this.”

Kiawe’s voice rang out from behind cover. “You’d shoot. I know you would.”

Meowth chuckled darkly. “Don’t be so reluctant. Besides, you’re outnumbered, and we have the asset.”

Kiawe stepped out slowly, his expression sharp as a blade. “If by ‘asset’ you mean Charizard,” he said, his tone like steel, “then I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong one.”

——————————————————————

The truck sped down the bustling streets, weaving through the evening traffic as it approached the on-ramp leading to Neon Town’s highway loop. Serena gripped the wheel tightly, her car darting between vehicles as she worked to keep up with the truck ahead.

Eyes sharp with focus, she glanced down at Brock’s bag resting in the passenger seat and quickly unzipped it, pulling out a Pokéball. Her Delphox, seated in the back seat, perked up and leaned forward, sensing the urgency. Without hesitation, the Fire-type reached up and pushed open the sunroof window, the cool night air rushing into the car.

“Delphox, this is going to be tricky,” Serena said as she handed the Pokéball over, her voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins. “You know what to do.”

Delphox nodded, gripping the Pokéball tightly as she climbed halfway out of the sunroof, her fiery gaze locked on the speeding truck ahead.

Serena skillfully maneuvered the car, keeping it close behind the truck as her Delphox crawled carefully onto the hood. The highway stretched high above the city, the vibrant skyline and distant noise below creating a stark contrast to the tension in the air. Delphox hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the dizzying drop, her normally confident demeanor betrayed by a flicker of unease.

Inside the truck, the driver sat eerily still, dressed in dark gray with sleek sunglasses shielding his expression. Noticing something in the side mirror, he tilted his head slightly to get a better view. His hand moved deliberately, flipping a hidden switch on the dashboard. The truck's glowing advertisements flickered off, plunging the reflective panels into darkness.

The sudden absence of light revealed Delphox's shadow more prominently against the truck's surface, its agile movements now clearer in the neon glow of the passing cityscape.

He reached into a compartment and retrieved a handgun, passing it to the other man in the truck.

The goon hesitated, taking the weapon with a furrowed brow. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked nervously, though the driver didn't reply.

Delphox steadied heeself on the hood, balancing against the rush of wind and the rumble of the car. With precision, she threw the Pokéball into the air, summoning Steelix in a flash of white light. Without hesitation, Delphox grabbed the truck’s door handle and yanked it open, stepping inside swiftly—only to freeze at the sight of two Zygarde in their 50% forms.

One of the Zygarde immediately lunged forward, forcing Delphox to react quickly. She ducked and stepped further into the truck, narrowly avoiding the strike, and landed heavily on Serena’s car hood, its massive form denting the surface.

Its glowing green eyes locked onto Serena, filled with a cold and calculated intelligence. Without hesitation, it extended its tail tendrils and lashed them at the windshield, shattering the glass with a sharp crack. Serena gasped and instinctively slammed the brakes, causing the car to skid to a halt. Behind her, other vehicles screeched and swerved, narrowly avoiding collisions.

The Zygarde on the hood braced itself as Serena's car jolted, its tendrils gripping tightly for balance. But before it could make another move, a shadow loomed overhead.

With a thunderous roar, Brock’s Steelix descended from above, its massive frame crashing down with earth-shaking force. The Steel-type Pokémon tackled the Zygarde, pinning it against the pavement with its immense weight. Sparks flew as Steelix roared again, its iron body grinding against the asphalt, keeping the writhing Zygarde firmly beneath it.

Inside the truck, Delphox quickly assessed the situation, her sharp eyes locking onto a small control panel on the side of the cryo chamber. She sprinted toward it, but the other Zygarde moved swiftly, using Coil to wrap its serpentine body tightly around her. Delphox let out a strained growl as the pressure constricted her, the air being forced from her lungs.

Gathering her strength, Delphox ignited a powerful Fire Blast, the searing flames exploding outward in a radiant burst of heat and light. The Zygarde recoiled with a guttural hiss, the force of the attack forcing it to release its grip. Delphox stumbled forward, catching herself and refocusing on the chamber.

With haste, she began hammering at the cryo chamber's glass with her wand, fiery sparks dancing with each strike as she tried to shatter it. The chamber's reinforced surface resisted her attacks, but she didn't relent.

Behind her, the Zygarde recovered and lashed out with a tendril, sweeping her legs out from under her. Delphox fell hard onto the metal floor, her wand clattering out of reach. She hissed in frustration as the Zygarde loomed over her, its glowing eyes pulsing ominously, ready to strike again.

From around the corner, the man climbed into view, his gun aimed squarely at Delphox. He steadied his aim, his finger tightening on the trigger. Sensing the danger, Delphox's eyes darted to a small tube connected beneath the cryo chamber's door. With a swift motion, she lunged forward and yanked it loose.

A thick, viscous liquid began pooling around the floor, its pungent scent filling the confined space. The Zygarde recoiled immediately, their instincts screaming danger as the liquid burned against their tendrils, causing them to retreat with pained growls.

The man hesitated, his gun trembling as he glanced at the retreating Zygarde and the spreading liquid. A series of sharp beeps echoed from the cryo chamber as its emergency protocol engaged. Warning lights flashed, and steam hissed from the cracks in its reinforced door.

With a loud click and a metallic groan, the chamber's door swung open. Charizard tumbled out, collapsing onto the floor in a heap. Her body shivered uncontrollably, frost clinging to her scales as if she had been frozen for hours. Delphox pushed herself to her feet, her fiery gaze locking onto the man as she positioned herself protectively in front of Charizard.

——————————————————————

In the dimly lit basement of the Breeding Center, Alolan Marowak lunged forward with a fierce swing of his bone. Normal Marowak deftly blocked the strike with her own, their weapons colliding with a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber. Taking the opening, Normal Marowak surged forward, slamming her head into his chest with a powerful Headbutt, forcing him back a few steps.

Seizing the momentum, she launched into a Bone Rush, delivering rapid, precise strikes that drove Alolan Marowak against the cold stone wall. Her club pressed firmly against his throat, pinning him in place.

Arcanine, his golden fur smell of musk, stalked over with a low growl, raising a massive paw to swipe at the restrained Alolan Marowak. Sensing the imminent danger, he quickly flicked his tail, sneaking it beneath Normal Marowak’s Skull and delivering a sharp Tail Whip. The sudden maneuver startled her, causing her to stumble back just enough for him to shift out of the chokehold.

Arcanine, now poised for an attack, swung his claws downward, narrowly missing Alolan Marowak but striking the Normal one's bone instead. A loud snap rang out as her weapon splintered in half, the jagged edges scattering across the floor. Normal Marowak stared at her broken weapon in shock as Alolan Marowak repositioned himself, gripping his bone tightly, ready for the next clash.

Alolan Marowak reached down, picking up one of the splintered halves of Normal Marowak's club. The broken edge was jagged and sharp, a makeshift weapon now even more dangerous. Across the hall, Normal Marowak readjusted the skull on her head, her hands trembling slightly as Arcanine growled deeply, their eyes locked on the Alolan.

Without hesitation, the three charged at once. Arcanine lunged forward with jaws wide, aiming a powerful Bite at Alolan Marowak. But he was faster—he thrust the splintered club into Arcanine's mouth, the jagged point piercing his lower gums. Arcanine howled in agony, blood dripping from his maw as he recoiled, staggering backward.

Normal Marowak rushed forward, hoping to capitalize on the distraction. Alolan Marowak spun quickly, using his powerful legs to unleash a Double Kick, the first blow knocking her back and the second shattering the skull on her head. Pieces of the treasured relic scattered to the floor as Normal Marowak stumbled, her hands flying to her now-exposed face.

Blood trickled down her chin as she retreated, her confidence shattered along with her mother’s skull. Arcanine, still whimpering in pain, stood up, his body tense but hesitant to make another move.

Alolan Marowak, breathing heavily, lowered his makeshift weapon slightly, his gaze hard and unrelenting as he prepared for whatever would come next.

Arcanine, growling through the pain in his gums, charged forward with a mighty leap, attempting to land a devastating Play Rough attack. Alolan Marowak, calculating quickly, hurled his Bonemerang mid-air, the spinning bone catching Arcanine square in the face.

As the large Pokémon landed awkwardly, his hind legs slipping slightly on the slick floor, Alolan Marowak seized the moment. He grabbed the other splintered half of the broken club and lunged forward, driving the sharp edge into Arcanine’s groin.

Arcanine let out a heart-wrenching whimper, his strength faltering as he collapsed partially onto the ground. His powerful body quivered, and he instinctively placed his front paws between his hind legs, a weak attempt to shield the wounded area.

The fierce aura it had maintained moments before was gone, replaced by trembling pain. Alolan Marowak stood over him, his expression cold but unwavering, holding both fragments of the broken weapon as he took his club and left.

The group hurried down to the main floor, the tension thick in the air. Lopunny and Gardevoir, standing near the center, spotted them attempting to escape. Their eyes narrowed, and they stepped forward, preparing to intercept.

Ash and Pikachu quickly moved to the front of the group, ready for a confrontation. Before Lopunny and Gardevoir could make a move, Iris raised her rifle, taking precise aim. Pfft! Pfft! Two darts flew through the air, striking both Pokémon. They staggered for a moment before their eyes fluttered closed, collapsing into a deep sleep.

"Keep moving!" Iris barked, slinging the rifle over her shoulder as the group pressed on toward the exit.

Brock, trailing slightly behind, caught sight of Nidoking and Nidoqueen slumped against the wall near the corner of the room. Nidoking swayed unsteadily, his large body struggling to maintain balance, while Nidoqueen leaned against him, worry etched on her face.

Without hesitation, Brock slowed his pace, his Toxicroak stepping up beside him. "Wait!" he called to the group.

Toxicroak gave a determined croak, already moving toward the two Poison-types as Brock knelt beside Nidoking, quickly assessing the situation. "Looks like he's been hit," Brock muttered, noticing the glassy look in Nidoking's eyes. "Toxicroak, help keep him steady."

The group hesitated near the door, Ash looking back at Brock with concern. "

On the platform, the tension crackled like a live wire as Meowth and Kiawe squared off. Meowth flexed his claws, his sharp nails gleaming under the dim light, while Kiawe raised his fists, bracing himself for the fight.

Meowth lunged first, using Scratch with blinding speed. His claws tore through the air, leaving shallow marks on Kiawe’s leg as he narrowly sidestepped the attack. Taking advantage of the close range, Kiawe grabbed a handful of Meowth’s fur, yanking him closer and landing a solid punch to the side of his jaw.

Snarling, Meowth retaliated with Bite, his sharp teeth sinking into Kiawe’s forearm. Kiawe gritted his teeth in pain, staggering backward and struggling to pry Meowth’s maw open. With a burst of strength, he shoved Meowth away, but the nimble feline immediately regrouped, leaping toward Kiawe’s face with claws outstretched.

Kiawe caught Meowth mid-air, gripping his arms tightly as the razor-sharp claws edged dangerously close to his throat. The strain was evident in Kiawe’s trembling arms, but he let out a primal scream, twisting his body and slamming Meowth to the ground.

Pinning Meowth beneath him, Kiawe fought to keep control as the Pokémon squirmed fiercely. Meowth snapped his teeth, attempting to Bite onto Kiawe’s fingers, but Kiawe countered by gripping Meowth’s whiskers tightly, ignoring the burning pain in his arm, and with a fierce tug, ripped them clean off. Meowth screeched in agony, blood trickling from his nose as he writhed beneath Kiawe.

The two combatants quickly separated, both breathing heavily. Kiawe's arm was shaking, blood dripping from the gashes on his body. Meowth’s nose twitched in pain, his whiskers gone, but the fury in his eyes only intensified. Neither was willing to give in.

“You ripped off my whiskers!” Meowth snarled, his sharp teeth bared in fury. His tail lashed back and forth, betraying his barely contained rage.

“And you’re surrounded,” Kiawe shot back, his voice firm despite the blood seeping from his injured arm.

As Meowth turned his focus toward Kiawe, Iris seized her chance. Without hesitation, she pulled out her firearm, swiftly pressing the barrel against the back of Meowth’s head. Her voice was cold and commanding. “Everyone stand down, or I’m shooting him.”

Meowth let out a mocking laugh, his tone dismissive. “You think I’m going to be afraid of a dart? Go ahead. I’m due for a nap anyway.”

Unfazed by his taunt, Iris smirked. In a single, decisive motion, she aimed at the overhead light and pulled the trigger. The sharp crack of the gunshot echoed throughout the platform, and the bulb exploded in a shower of sparks and glass. The area dimmed as the light flickered out, leaving an ominous atmosphere.

Before Meowth could fully register what had happened, Iris pressed the firearm harder against his head. The heat of the barrel and the destructive display made her intentions unmistakable.

Meowth froze, his ears twitching as he glanced up at the shattered light. Realization dawned on his face.

“Well, now,” he muttered, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the tension in his voice. “Guess I underestimated you.”

Iris leaned in closer, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Tell your crew to drop their weapons. Now.”

Meowth hesitated, his eyes flicking toward his allies, before letting out a low growl. “Alright, alright. Stand down!” he barked at his team. “Do as she says!”

Slowly, Meowth’s allies began lowering their weapons, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. Iris didn’t move the gun from Meowth’s head, keeping her stance firm. She wasn’t taking any chances.

Seeing their boss held at gunpoint, Obstagoon lowered its arms and stepped back, signaling the others to stand down. Francisco seized the moment, ascending the stairs with Fraxure close behind. The two entered the dimly lit hallway, making their way into Meowth’s lavish bedroom.

The room was ornate, with silk curtains, golden accents, and a large, unkempt bed dominating the space. Francisco scanned the area quickly, his eyes landing on a desk cluttered with papers and trinkets. “Fraxure,” Fraxure called, pointing her claw toward a stack of documents.

“Thanks,” Francisco replied, sifting through the pile until he found the file marked Hotspot Casino. The folder was thick, stuffed with notes, maps, and what appeared to be security schematics. Francisco tucked the file under his arm and turned to leave.

“We’ve got what we need,” he muttered, glancing at Fraxure. Together, they exited the room, rejoining the group below.

——————————————————————

Meanwhile, Delphox shifted into her fighting stance, her sharp gaze locked on the scene. Kiawe’s Charizard, trembling but resolute, slowly rose to her feet. The man, standing beside Zygarde, faltered as Zygarde suddenly crumpled into its 10% forms, the fragmented pieces scattering across the floor.

Charizard blinked in confusion at their sudden retreat, her claws flexing as a low growl rumbled in her throat. Sensing her intimidating presence, the man stopped only briefly to lower his gun in surrender before bolting out of the truck. Charizard let out a sharp snarl, stepping forward with flames flickering faintly in her mouth. Her fearsome display sent him scrambling faster, leaving the scene entirely. Delphox and Charizard exchanged a brief, silent glance before chuckling.

The other 50% Zygarde, seeing the canines retreating, crumpled and followed, leaving the area clear. Steelix turned its focus to the truck while Serena sprinted toward the man, her gun raised. “Stop right there and put your hands up!”

“Okay, okay,” the man said, raising his hands slowly.

Serena quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs and restrained him with practiced efficiency. “Is anyone else in the truck?” she demanded.

“Yes,” the man admitted hesitantly.

Just as he spoke, the truck suddenly roared to life and sped off, tires screeching against the pavement. Charizard and Delphox, caught off guard, thrown out of the vehicle and tumbled hard onto the pavement. The truck swerved and disappeared down an exit ramp, vanishing from sight.

Chapter Text

Max woke up disoriented, finding himself stranded deep underground, his tail flame providing the only light in the pitch-black surroundings. The faint flicker illuminated jagged rocks and uneven terrain, casting eerie shadows around him. He took cautious steps forward, climbing over obstacles and scanning for any possible way out. The oppressive silence was broken by distant, thunderous roars—Dialga's and Groudon's voices reverberating through the cavern, their sounds unnervingly intertwined. Max's instincts kicked in, and he sprinted away from the unsettling noise, but in his haste, he slipped down a ravine, landing hard and bruised.

Shaking off the pain, Max looked up and noticed a wall of cloudy crystals that seemed to glow faintly. As he approached, he realized the surface was reflective enough to show his own image—or so he thought. What stared back at him wasn't his usual form. On the other side of the crystal, a version of himself moved in perfect sync but appeared radically different. This Charizard had three vibrant tails of distinct colors and six massive wings. The creature's body shimmered like a diamond, its scales reflecting the faint light in mesmerizing patterns. Max tilted his head, and the mirrored figure did the same. It wasn’t a Shiny form, nor was it a Mega Evolution of X or Y—it was something entirely unknown.

Max's curiosity and unease deepened as he stretched his wings cautiously, their span casting long shadows against the crystal wall. The other Charizard mirrored his movement, its six crystalline wings unfurling to an incredible size, each one matching the length of its body. The sight was awe-inspiring and terrifying, a reflection of a power Max couldn’t comprehend. He stepped closer, his breath fogging the crystal as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

As the shadows in the cave seemed to close in, Max jolted awake in the hotel room, his chest heaving with rapid breaths. His wide, panicked eyes scanned the room until they landed on Mewtwo, who stepped forward with its hands raised in a calming gesture.

“Relax,” Mewtwo said softly. “You’re safe.”

Max stared at Mewtwo for a few moments, his frantic breathing gradually slowing. He shifted on the rock-hard bed, the glow of the morning sun spilling through the window and casting golden streaks across the floor. “Char?” he murmured, his thoughts still scrambled.

Mewtwo moved toward the balcony, its gaze calm but focused. “Your friends are waiting for you in the lobby,” it informed him before stepping onto the edge. With a final glance back, Mewtwo soared into the sky, leaving Max alone.

For a moment, Max sat in silence, blinking as he tried to process what had just happened. Then, shaking off the lingering haze, he stood up and headed out of the room, making his way down to the lobby.

Francisco and Eclipsa, Servine and Goodra were waiting, the room filled with PIA agents. the murmurs silent as they look up at him. Ash and Pikachu quickly stepped forward.

“Hi.” Ash greeted, Max growled menacingly, though his expression had a hint of confusion and concern. "I promise, I'm not here to hurt you. We found your family—I can help you reach them.”

Max scans the room, noticing how every agent and their Pokémon seemed ready to subdue him. His eyes then went to the large windows, on Dialga and Groudon who were standing outside the entrance, shimmering like ghosts.

"Charizard." Max growled, attempting to sidestep the group, but Pikachu leaped in front of him, sparks crackling from his cheeks.

"Pika!" Pikachu shouted, standing his ground. Max’s fist clenched, his patience thinning. Eclipsa stepped forward instinctively, but Brock placed a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"I can't let you leave, Max. You know that," Ash said, his voice steady. "Please, just come with us. We can help you."

Before Max could answer, Dialga's gaze shifted toward the five agents surrounding his friends. Max followed its line of sight—just for a moment, the agents’ uniforms flickered, transforming from PIA’s to Rocket’s in his eyes. His breath hitched. His instincts screamed.

Then, he saw the sniper. Perched above, the rifle aimed—not at him, but at Ash. Without hesitation, Max lunged, grabbing Ash and dragging him to the ground just as the sniper fired. The shot barely missed.

"Pika!" Pikachu reacted instantly, hurling an Electro Ball at Max. Electricity surged through his body, and he let out a pained roar, muscles seizing under the current. Ash scrambled away, gasping, but before he could reach safety, another dart whizzed past him, grazing his arm.

Brock barely had time to react before one of the disguised Rocket agents struck him across the head with a gun, sending him crumpling to the floor. In seconds, the others moved—each one seizing their targets with brutal efficiency.

Francisco and Eclipsa found themselves forced into handcuffs, while Goodra and Servine writhed under the sting of newly fastened shock collars. The lobby erupted into chaos as PIA agents clashed with Team Rocket operatives, their Pokémon locked in fierce battles.

Max staggered, his body riddled with tranquilizer darts. His vision blurred as his friends were dragged toward the exit, their struggles futile. Francisco and Eclipsa fought against their restraints, while Goodra and Servine writhed under the merciless shocks of their collars.

Pikachu, noticing the sniper above, hesitated in his assault on Max, shifting focus to pinpoint the attacker.

Max’s breath came in ragged gasps, the tranquilizers searing through his veins. His body burned—not with exhaustion, but with something deeper. His blood boiled, incinerating the drugs from the inside out. His scales shimmered, shifting from their usual fiery orange to a striking, transparent blue.

A Rocket grunt yanked open the doors of a large transport van, ready to shove the captives inside—only for the entire vehicle to vanish in a blinding flash of light.

An instant later, the van reappeared—hurling across the street. It crashed into the lobby of a nearby hotel, shattering glass and metal in a violent explosion. One of the Rocket members screamed in agony, clutching his arm—his hand had been cleanly severed in the chaos.

As the dust settled, Max stood in the van’s former spot—transformed.

The Diamond Charizard’s crystalline form glowed under the morning light, his six massive wings unfurling. His yellow eyes burned with fury.

Another Rocket member raised his weapon and fired—but the dart bounced off Max’s shimmering scales, the needle bending on impact.

Max turned to the attacker, gripping the man’s arms in an iron hold. With a powerful Body Slam, he drove him into the ground before following up with a devastating Focus Punch. Dragon Claw struck next—again and again—until the remaining Rocket members, realizing their mistake, fled in terror.

Eclipsa approached cautiously, her breath unsteady as she took in the carnage before her. The Rocket member’s face—if it could even be called that anymore—was a bloody ruin, unrecognizable beneath the mess of shattered bone and torn flesh.

“Max,” she called softly.

Max whipped around, his Dragon Claw striking before he even registered who it was. The force sent Eclipsa staggering back, a sharp cry escaping her lips as pain flared through her arm.

Francisco and Goodra rushed to her side, while Servine quickly summoned her vines, wrapping them around Eclipsa’s wound to slow the bleeding.

Max’s chest heaved as he looked down at his hands—his claws were slick with blood and brain matter. His breathing grew erratic as a muffled sound reached his ears—a cry from across the street.

His gaze lifted. Amid the wreckage, a mangled Meganium lay trapped beneath the twisted remains of the van. Its trainer—a young woman—lay motionless beside it, shards of glass embedded deep in her body.

Max clenched his fists.

What have I done?

With a sharp growl, he struck his own head, trying to force the reality of the situation into something he could understand—something he could fix. Goodra took a tentative step toward him, eyes filled with concern. But before anyone could say a word, Max’s wings flared—and in a single powerful beat, he vanished into the sky, fleeing the scene.

————————————————————

In a quiet hospital room, Meowth and Arcanine lay in recovery, their bodies still battered from battle. The steady beeping of monitors filled the silence—until a sudden, blinding light flooded the room. Arcanine let out a strained growl, muscles tensing as he tried to push himself up.

“Stay down,” Meowth muttered, raising a paw. The feline winced as he got to his feet, limping toward the window. With a flick of his claws, he pulled the blinds open. Outside, a brilliant, ascending bolt of energy tore through the sky—Max. His light burned so fiercely that the sun itself paled in comparison, casting Neon Town into an eerie, unnatural darkness. Meowth swallowed hard, his tail flicking as he watched the fiery streak disappear over the horizon, heading toward the barren desert beyond.

————————————————————

At the PIA facility, a low, unearthly hum filled the air, stirring the group of Charizards awake. The sterile glow of the overhead lights flickered as a figure materialized in the center of the room.

A Mewtwo.

The doctors stationed at the observation deck froze in fear, their monitors beeping erratically. The psychic Pokémon raised a hand, pressing it lightly against the reinforced glass.

"Bring me the one in charge," Mewtwo’s voice echoed, its gaze unwavering. The request wasn’t questioned. Within minutes, Professor Oak entered, his usually composed demeanor shaken.

“You’re—?” Oak started, though he already knew the answer.

"Mewtwo," the Pokémon confirmed, its voice smooth yet commanding. "Tell me, Professor, what exactly were you planning for them?"

Oak hesitated for only a second. “We’re doing everything in our power to help them,” he said, though his throat tightened around the words.

Mewtwo's eyes narrowed. “Have you attempted to remove the Legendary DNA from the Charizards?”

Oak swallowed hard. "It crossed my mind… but that would require removing nearly two-thirds of their blood."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Mewtwo’s gaze remained steady. “Why haven’t you done it?” Though its tone was neutral, there was an unmistakable sense that it already knew the answer.

Professor Oak exhaled sharply. “Because removing that much blood could kill them. And even if we did it gradually, their bodies would just regenerate the foreign blood. It’s been embedded in their bones, reinforced through every stage of evolution.”

Mewtwo processed the information. “So, the only way to eliminate the foreign blood… is to force the body to stop producing it.”

It raised a hand, fingers curling slightly as a subtle psychic glow pulsed around its palm.

A Charizard stepped forward. “Charizard?” Velvet’s voice was low, questioning.

Mewtwo nodded. “Yes, Velvet. I’ll help. But it’s dangerous.”

The room fell silent for a moment before Sky raised her claws. “Char.” She volunteered without hesitation.

Mewtwo’s sharp eyes lingered on her for a moment, sensing the deep-seated despair woven into her emotions. She was ready to take any risk.

Not wanting to waste time, Mewtwo turned toward Oak. “Professor, prepare for surgery.” Then, to Sky, it gestured forward. “Come with me.”

Later, Misty and her Starmie stepped into the observation deck, their eyes immediately drawn to the tense scene below.

In the brightly lit surgery room, Mewtwo stood motionless, its forehead pressed against Sky’s, a soft glow of psychic energy pulsing between them. Professor Oak and his team of doctors worked with unwavering focus, their instruments gleaming under the surgical lights.

Sky lay on her stomach, her back arched in strain, her spine carefully incised down the middle. Tubes snaked away from the open wound, siphoning the unnatural, shimmering essence of Dialga’s and Groudon’s blood into a containment unit. At the same time, her own purified blood was being recycled back into her arms, keeping her stable as the team worked with meticulous precision. Misty exhaled slowly, her grip tightening against the railing.

————————————————————

As the ambulance sped toward the hospital, a paramedic and her Morgrem worked quickly to bandage Eclipsa’s arm. Her eyes felt heavy, the vines and leaves from Servine’s earlier aid now completely soaked in red.

Francisco held her hand tightly, his other gripping the Pokéballs containing Servine and Goodra.

“Hey, stay with us,” the paramedic urged, glancing at Eclipsa with concern.

Eclipsa weakly gestured for Francisco to lean closer, whispering, “Did you write down the address?”

Francisco nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Good. Go there—now. Take Servine with you.”

Francisco stiffened. “We’re not leaving you here.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eclipsa insisted, her voice firm despite her exhaustion. She turned to the paramedic. “Stop the ambulance. Let him off.”

The paramedic hesitated. “Ma’am, we can’t stop—”

“Just for a moment. Please.”

With a sigh, the paramedic relented. She leaned toward the front, giving a signal. Her Morgrem moved swiftly, opening the ambulance door and gesturing for Francisco to jump out.

“But I—” Francisco started to protest, but Eclipsa silenced him with a kiss.

For a single second, time seemed to stretch into eternity.

As she pulled away, her eyes softened. “Go find his family.”

Francisco hesitated, his face torn between duty and what he truly wanted to do. But finally, he stepped out, the two Pokéballs clutched tightly in his hands.

The ambulance’s engine roared as it pulled away, leaving Francisco alone.

Without wasting a second, he pulled out his phone, checking the maps for the fastest route. His heart pounded as he sprinted toward the nearest bus stop.

Meanwhile, Kiawe—his arm in a cast—walked alongside Iris and Serena as they rushed over to Ash. His team lay injured, scattered across the ER. Nearby, a Rocket member with his face completely bashed in was being wheeled away on a stretcher.

Ash’s stomach twisted as his mind snapped back to the Charizard. He quickly took off, weaving through the chaotic emergency room until he spotted Eclipsa being rolled in on a stretcher.

“You—where did your friend go?” Ash demanded, out of breath.

Eclipsa blinked at him, still groggy. “Which one?”

Ash looked around, realizing Francisco was missing. His chest tightened. “The Charizard. Where is Max?”

Kiawe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he noticed three deep claw marks slashed across Eclipsa’s arm. “Did Max do that?” he asked, his voice cautious.

Eclipsa instinctively covered her arm with the towel draped over her. “Yes, but not on purpose. He was just… trying to help, that’s all.”

Ash pressed on, his concern rising. “Did you tell him the address?”

Eclipsa shook her head weakly. “No. He just flew off. But Francisco—” she inhaled sharply, fighting the pain “—he’s on his way to the Lizardons.”

————————————————————

Over Cinnabar Island, Max drifted aimlessly through the sky, his mind clouded with turmoil. The Diamond form pulsing within him felt like it had a will of its own—a chaotic fusion of his own desires and those of the Legendaries.

As he descended onto the island’s golden sands, the ground beneath him instantly turned to molten glass. The incoming tide hissed into thick steam before the waves could even touch his claws. Onlookers scrambled backward, their faces twisted in fear. Water- and Ice-types in the crowd shuffled nervously, sensing the unnatural heat radiating from him.

Max stared at them, but his gaze wasn't truly on them. It was inward—trapped in a spiral of self-doubt and horror.

A nuclear bomb. A weapon. A dangerous threat. An abomination. A freak. Charizard. Groudon. Dialga. He was all of them. And yet, none of them. A friend. But he had almost killed his friend.

The thoughts circled endlessly, a storm raging in his mind. This form—this Diamond Charizard—shouldn’t exist.

He collapsed onto the molten glass, his six wings folding around him like a shield. But the searing heat of his own body made it impossible to feel cold. Lava-like tears dripped down his face, sizzling against the glassy sand below. His cries echoed into the empty sky, a sound of confusion, of agony.

And then—his eyes caught something.

Strange markings etched onto his translucent wings. The branding. The serial number.

Team Rocket. Always Team Rocket.

A constant pressure. A never-ending shadow.

His sobbing twisted into frustration, his claws curling into fists.

Max threw his head back and roared, his voice ripping through the air like a shockwave. The earth trembled, and waves crashed violently against the shore. Onlookers flinched, some stumbling back in terror. Even the Pokémon on the island recoiled, their instincts screaming at them to flee.

The deafening roar carried across Cinnabar Island, reaching the still-operating Cinnabar Gym.

Inside, Blaine froze mid-step. The sound was deep, powerful—almost primal. It rattled the windows, echoed through the walls. Others in the gym paused, exchanging uneasy glances. Some shrugged it off, dismissing it as distant thunder or a Pokémon battle gone wrong.

But Blaine knew better.

His mind raced, the roar too familiar yet disturbingly unnatural. Groudon? No, not quite. There was something eerie, something warped and distorted.

His stomach twisted with unease.

Without another word, Blaine grabbed his coat and stepped outside, his eyes scanning the horizon. Whatever made that sound… it wasn’t normal.

And he needed to find out why.

A group of officers formed a tight perimeter around the beach, their hands hovering over their Pokéballs. The once-crowded shore was now eerily empty, save for Max, the Diamond Charizard.

Blaine surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes taking in the warped landscape. The sand beneath Max had fused into molten glass, shimmering under the heat. Waves hissing into steam.

Without hesitation, Blaine reached for a Pokéball and released Torkoal. The turtle-like Fire-type emerged in a puff of thick smoke, its shell smoldering as always.

“Torkoal, go,” Blaine instructed, his voice steady but watchful.

Torkoal cautiously stepped forward, his usual heat paling in comparison to Max’s overwhelming aura. The air around the Charizard warped, waves of intense heat radiating outward.

“Tork…” Torkoal called out, his voice strained.

From behind the protective veil of his six wings, Max shifted slightly, peering out. His glowing yellow eyes met Torkoal’s.

For a moment, he just stared.

Then, he scooted back—away from the approaching Fire-type.

Torkoal took another step forward, though the sheer intensity of Max’s heat made every movement a struggle. His shell cracked with tiny bursts of steam, sweat forming along his skin. Still, he did not back down.

Max shifted his gaze, looking from the ocean to Torkoal, then to the crowd of people and Pokémon watching from the street and pier above.

A heavy realization settled over him. He was a danger. A burden. A monster.

His six wings unfurled, their crystalline glow flickering against the sun. His three tails straightened, tense with resolve.

Then, without hesitation—he dove into the ocean.

The moment his body hit the water, an explosion of mist engulfed the shoreline, spraying hot water everywhere, forcing everyone too close to take cover. Steam rose in thick waves, swallowing everything in a blinding fog.

Max sank deeper, deeper still. The ocean, once repelled by his heat, fought back—its crushing weight pushing against him. The further he went, the more the water tamed the inferno within him, suffocating the embers that burned too hot for the surface world.

Blaine didn’t hesitate.

“Torkoal, return!” he called, recalling his Pokémon before rushing to the pier, his coat billowing behind him. His mind raced, trying to understand what this thing is and why it's trying to drown itself.

He reached the nearest boat, gripping the railing. “I need this vessel—now!” he barked at the stunned crew, taking out a handful of money.

As Max sank deeper into the abyss, the radiant diamond scales that once encased him began to shed, dissolving into the water like falling embers. His body returned to normal—no longer a fusion of Charizard, Dialga, and Groudon.

But his flame was gone.

He let the water fill his lungs, making no effort to resist. His body convulsed instinctively, struggling against the inevitable, but he didn’t fight it. He simply let go.

Just as darkness closed in around him, a massive figure surged through the water.

Gyarados.

The serpent dived, powerful strokes propelling it toward Max’s fading form. It clamped its fangs around his body—firm, but careful—before rocketing toward the surface.

The moment they broke through, hands rushed forward, gripping Max’s limp body.

“Pull him up!” Blaine barked, leading the effort as they hauled Max onto the deck.

Realizing he needed immediate treatment, Blaine wasted no time. He grabbed a Pokéball and tapped it against Max’s unconscious form, capturing him.

He stared at the ball for a brief second, then turned to the others. “Get us to the Pokémon Center—now!”

————————————————————

At Neon Town’s hospital, a PIA helicopter touched down on the rooftop pad, its blades slicing through the night air. Eclipsa and Kiawe were ushered aboard, followed closely by Ash and Brock. Serena and Iris remained behind to clean up the chaos at the hotel and oversee the arrest of the remaining Team Rocket members. Inside the dimly lit cabin, Kiawe sat across from Eclipsa, his eyes drawn to the despair etched across her face.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

Eclipsa lifted her gaze from her bandaged arm, her expression weary. "Not great."

Kiawe’s eyes flickered to her injured limb. "What happened?"

"Max hit me with Dragon Claw," she muttered. "You?"

Kiawe lifted his own casted arm. "Meowth used Bite. Messed me up bad."

Eclipsa sighed. "Max did it while he was transformed… left deep burn marks. Weirdly enough, that actually slowed the bleeding."

Kiawe extended his good hand. "Cast buddies?"

Eclipsa blinked before chuckling. "Cast buddies?" She shook his hand, but her smile faded as her tone grew serious. "Kiawe, I need your help with something."

He nodded. "Name it."

Eclipsa leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "I need to find Max’s mate, Velvet. She’s probably at the Indigo Plateau."

Kiawe’s brow furrowed. "Why her?"

Eclipsa’s grip on her cast tightened. "Because if anyone can reach him… it’s her.”

Kiawe’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing as if piecing together a puzzle. “I saw a bright light this morning. It shot through my window… was that him?” Eclipsa nodded, her gaze drifting toward the sky, where faint, smoky contrails still lingered. Kiawe hesitated before voicing the thought gnawing at him. “You don’t think he’s going to… blow up, right?”

Eclipsa’s lips parted, but no words came. The truth was, she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure what was happening to Max anymore.

————————————————————

Francisco stepped off the bus, making his way past the airport’s gate. His eyes scanned the rows of hangars, searching for the perfect transport—until he spotted a sleeping Tropius. He turned to an older woman working on a piece of machinery. “Hey, I need a ride to Pallet Town.”

She lifted her welding helmet, raising a brow. “Ocean travel costs extra.”

Without hesitation, Francisco dug into his backpack, pulling out a large stack of cash. He didn’t care if he overpaid—he just needed to get there fast. Both the woman and Tropius’ eyes widened. “Is this enough?”

The woman walked over, examined the pile, then took half. “Pay the rest when you land.”

“Thank you.” Francisco exhaled, relieved.

Tropius let out a deep stretch, shaking off drowsiness before stepping out of the hangar. The woman secured a flight mount on him while Francisco double-checked his backpack. Inside, two Pokéballs—Servine and Goodra. Then, he pulled out the scrap of paper with the address.

“He’s ready,” the woman called. Francisco quickly tightened the straps of his backpack and climbed onto the mount. With a powerful flap of Tropius’ wings, they lifted off, soaring into the sky, Neon Town shrinking beneath them.

————————————————————

As Eclipsa stirred awake, she glanced out the window. A full day had passed, and their helicopter was descending toward the Pokémon Inspection Agency’s Headquarters. Below them, Viridian City stretched out in the morning light. On the landing pad, Charles Goodshow and Officer Jenny stood waiting. As soon as the helicopter touched down, Ash and Pikachu stepped off first. The others followed, but Goodshow’s gaze quickly landed on Eclipsa. He approached with a warm smile. “Hello, young lady.”

Eclipsa hesitated for a moment before awkwardly shaking his hand with her left. “Mr. Goodshow?”

“You’ve really made a name for yourself,” he said. “Leaking Rocket’s files was no small feat.”

“Me, my friends, and Team Plasma tried our best.”

Goodshow’s expression shifted as he glanced at the now empty helicopter. “Where is your Charizard?” Eclipsa's smile faded. She hesitated, lowering her gaze to her bandaged arm. Goodshow followed her eyes, then let out a quiet sigh. “I’m sorry for asking.”

Eclipsa quickly clarified, “He didn’t mean it. I just… I need to see one of the Charizards.”

Officer Jenny furrowed her brows. “They’re here, but why do you need to see them?”

“Because I’m worried about Max,” Eclipsa answered urgently. “And one of them, Velvet—MX-470, I think—I need to get her fast. She’s the only one who can find him.”

Ash stepped forward, his expression firm. “No way. These Charizards are weapons. And with Max in his diamond form, flying off to who knows where—he’s a ticking time bomb.”

Jenny crossed her arms. “We can’t let them leave. There’s so much we still don’t understand about what Team Rocket did to them.”

Eclipsa turned to Goodshow, desperation in her voice. “Please, Mr. Goodshow. Velvet is the only one who can help Max.”

Goodshow sighed, rubbing his forehead before turning to Ash and Pikachu. “So the Charizard is… armed?”

Ash’s expression darkened. “I’m afraid so.”

Goodshow placed a firm hand on Eclipsa’s shoulder. “I'm sorry, but they're too dangerous. We can’t let any of them go.”

Eclipsa flinched as if struck, her breath catching in her throat. “But… he needs her.” Her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. “You don’t understand. Max—he’s scared, he’s alone, and if we don’t do something, we could lose him forever.”

Goodshow’s expression softened, but his stance remained firm. He gestured for Jenny and Ash to follow him. “Come, we need to put out an alert across all cities and towns near Neon.”

Ash hesitated, glancing at Eclipsa. The pain in her eyes made his stomach twist, but he didn’t know what to say. “Eclipsa…” He started, but no words followed.

She turned away, blinking back tears as he followed Goodshow and Jenny inside.

Her hands curled into fists. They don’t get it. They don’t know him like I do.

————————————————————

At the Pokémon Center on Cinnabar Island, the golden rays of sunset filtered through a small window, casting long shadows across the room. Max’s eyes fluttered open, his senses dulled by exhaustion. The steady beeping of a heart monitor filled the silence, grounding him in reality. He was alive.

A sharp pang of disappointment settled in his chest. His claws trembled as he lifted his arm. With a slow, deliberate motion, he used Dragon Claw, dragging it down from his shoulder. Pain flared, but he didn’t stop. The monitor’s beeping spiked, a frantic alarm that shattered the quiet.

The door burst open. Blaine and his Rhydon rushed in, eyes widening at the scene before them. “Charizard, stop!”

Rhydon moved faster, seizing Max’s uninjured arm with a firm but careful grip. Max barely reacted, his expression hollow as tears slid down his face. “Char…” His voice cracked, pleading—not for help, but for death.

“Rhydon.” The Pokémon’s deep voice was steady, unyielding, as he gently but firmly moved Max’s claw away, preventing further harm.

Blaine quickly inspected the wound, his hands steady despite the tension in the air. Blood seeped from the gash, but it wasn’t as deep as it should have been. “It’s not too bad,” he muttered, hastily wrapping a bandage around Max’s shoulder. He exhaled a breath of relief. “Though I doubt that was the result you were hoping for.” Max didn’t answer. His gaze remained downcast, his body limp in resignation.

Blaine studied him for a long moment, letting out a quiet sigh, watching Max’s hunched form, his wings drooping with the weight of unseen burdens. “I don’t want to leave you here, especially now that you’ve confirmed what I feared…” His voice was firm but not unkind. “But I need your trust. I need to know you won’t try to kill yourself again.”

Max didn’t react at first. His gaze remained fixed downward, his breath shaky and uneven. Blaine frowned, then reached out, gently but firmly grasping Max’s claw. The Charizard tensed slightly at the contact, but didn’t pull away. “I don’t know what happened to you,” Blaine continued, his voice quieter now, “but whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone. Just promise me—you won’t do this again.”

Max’s claws trembled in Blaine’s grip, but he didn’t answer. He simply stared at their hands, his breathing uneven. After a long moment, he wrenched his claw free, curling inward as fresh sobs wracked his frame.

Blaine hesitated but didn’t push further. He glanced at Rhydon and gave a small nod. “Stay with him.” Rhydon grunted in acknowledgment, stepping closer to Max’s side. With one last look at the broken Charizard before him, Blaine exhaled. “I’ll see you later.” His voice carried quiet resolve before he turned and stepped out of the room, leaving Max in Rhydon’s silent watch.

————————————————————

As night fell over Viridian City, the PIA headquarters loomed before Eclipsa. Kiawe stood beside an SUV, with Kukui in the driver’s seat. Eclipsa approached cautiously, suspicion in her eyes. “Who's she?” she asked.

“That's Professor Kukui. She's our getaway driver once we get the Charizard,” Kiawe explained.

Kukui rolled the window down. “Don't take too long, okay?”

Eclipsa nodded. “We won't,” she said, then turned to Kiawe. “Come on.”

As they entered the building, Kiawe led the way to where the Charizards were being held. Elsewhere, Ash and Misty sifted through Meowth’s records, uncovering a report from a female Primarina about a male Primarina discussing Dialga's limb, which had manifested from Team Galactic before being transferred to Rocket.

“So that’s where Dialga’s blood came from,” Ash said, pointing at the report. “And Oak said it’s directly under Mahogany Town?”

“Yes, he did,” Misty confirmed.

“That’s great,” Ash muttered sarcastically, a hint of worry in his voice. He glanced at a monitor showing the Charizards eating—except for Sky, who remained in the operating room. Then his eye caught Eclipsa and Kiawe entering the habitat with the Charizards.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Ash stood and walked down the hall, Pikachu trailing beside him.

Inside the habitat, Velvet looked up from the water trough and walked over, lifting Eclipsa into a hug. “Charizard,” she said with a hint of excitement.

“Easy there, girl. I’m wearing a cast,” Eclipsa said, gently pushing back.

“Char?”

“You don’t want to know,” Eclipsa replied before glancing at Kiawe. “Come on, let’s go.”

They began walking down the hall, Velvet reluctantly trailing behind until she stopped at the window to the operating room. Sky lay motionless on her stomach, her wings harnessed down and back sliced open. Eclipsa and Kiawe noticed she wasn’t following and joined her at the window. Blood dripped from Sky’s wounds, half the tubes pumping blood from her and the legendaries, the other half pumping Charizard blood from nearby phlebotomy bags.

“Will she be okay?” Eclipsa asked.

Velvet gave no answer, simply turning away from the window to continue on. They eventually reached the building’s entrance, where Ash and Pikachu were waiting.

“Where are you guys going?” Ash asked.

Kiawe took out a Pokéball, capturing Velvet before handing it to Eclipsa. “You go. Get out of here, find Max, and help him.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Now go.” Eclipsa hesitated, but Kiawe gave her a nudge, pushing her outside.

Ash shook his head. “We already have a weaponized Charizard out there. Why do you want to release another?”

“They’re held prisoner here,” Kiawe said with a smirk.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then why are you down here, Ash?” Kiawe asked, placing a hand on one of his Pokéballs.

Pikachu charged up, ready for battle. “Pikachu’s going to win. You know that, right?” Ash said.

“I know,” Kiawe replied, regret in his voice.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“My team might hate me for pitting them against your Pikachu, but I’m feeling lucky today.” Kiawe summoned his Alolan Marowak and Charizard.

Ash sighed and turned to Pikachu, ready to give the first command.

Meanwhile, Professor Kukui weaved through Viridian City’s side streets, taking narrow alleys and service roads to avoid detection. PIA agents were out in force, their patrol vehicles sweeping the area while Flying-type Pokémon with bright spotlights crisscrossed the night sky. A few times, Kukui had to kill the headlights and wait silently as a Skarmory or Braviary passed overhead, their lights narrowly missing the SUV.

Reaching the airport's perimeter, Kukui drove through a restricted service gate and parked near a utility entrance. She and Eclipsa slipped inside, navigating through dimly lit maintenance tunnels that echoed with distant announcements and the occasional thrum of jet engines.

They emerged near the edge of the runway. Kukui pointed to a passenger plane prepping for takeoff. “That one—should take you to Cinnabar Island.”

“Are you sure that’s where he went?” Eclipsa asked.

Kukui nodded. “Let’s just say he kinda turned part of the beach into glass.” She handed Eclipsa a brace attachment for her cast. “This should help keep it steady during the flight.”

“Thank you.”

“Now go.”

Eclipsa took off across the tarmac, dodging refueling trucks and security vehicles. As the plane began to taxi forward, she sprinted harder, catching up just in time to climb the back wheel and pull herself up into the cargo hatch, slipping inside moments before the plane went to its runway to take off.

————————————————————

Blaine's Rhydon and Max approached the Cinnabar Island Gym, the setting sun casting long shadows across the charred ground. Blaine stood at the top of the stone stairs, arms crossed, watching them with a quiet intensity. His gaze shifted briefly to the shoreline—what was once a bustling beach now lay in ruins, blackened and glassy, cordoned off by caution tape and security fencing.

Footsteps echoed behind him as Daniel arrived, his Ninetales padding silently at his side. Adjusting his glasses, Daniel glanced between Blaine and the distressed Charizard below.

“You called for me?” he asked.

“Yes. I need a favor,” Blaine replied, nodding toward Max. “Can you build a pair of wings for a Charizard?”

Daniel turned his eyes to Max, who stood slouched and silent, his tail flame dim and weak. His clipped wings bore the unmistakable imprint of a serial number. Max didn’t growl or snarl; he just stared at the ground, empty and exhausted.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Daniel said softly.

“Thanks. Be careful, though. He tried to bite one of the nurses earlier. Something about her clothing triggered him.”

Daniel frowned. “What was she wearing?”

“A lab coat—like yours. But it wasn’t aggression... it looked more like a panic attack.”

Daniel nodded slowly, unbuttoning the coat. “Alright. No lab coat. Got it.”

Daniel handed his lab coat to Blaine without a word before approaching Max. He noticed the cast wrapped around the Charizard’s arm and gave a gentle motion for him to follow. Max hesitated, his eyes tired and uncertain, but after a moment, he began walking behind Daniel through the gym’s main corridor.

Blaine returned Rhydon to its Pokéball and watched them for a moment longer, concern etched into his face. He hoped this small act of kindness could be the beginning of healing for the wounded Charizard.

As they passed through the gym, Max’s head turned at the sound of battle—a Flygon locked in a fierce clash with a Dragonite. The moment Max stepped into view, the fight stopped cold. Both Pokémon froze, eyes wide, their trainers quickly recalling them. A few other Pokémon nearby backed away as well, casting wary glances at Max as if his mere presence was a threat. He hadn’t growled, hadn’t flared his flame—yet fear followed him like a shadow. The realization deepened the pit in his chest, isolating him further.

“Don’t mind them,” Daniel said softly, trying to offer reassurance. But the look in Max’s eyes showed how deep his loneliness ran—how heavy the burden of his power and reputation truly was.

They entered Daniel’s lab, a clean, open space filled with tools, mechanical parts, and blueprints. Ninetales quietly padded over to her bed and curled up. Daniel gathered a few tools, gently examining the scars and breaks where Max’s wings had been clipped. When he looked up, he saw tears welling in Max’s eyes, the Charizard trying to hold them back but failing.

Daniel reached for a towel and softly wiped the tears away. “Hey, don’t cry,” he said gently. “You must think you’re some kind of monster… but I don’t.”

Max tilted his head toward the door—toward the others who had backed away in fear.

“They just don’t know you,” Daniel said, understanding. “But tomorrow, I can help you change that.”

Meanwhile, in Blaine’s office, he sat behind his desk, speaking on the phone with a Pokémon Care Service agent. “Hey, I’m calling about a Charizard I found,” Blaine said, voice calm but heavy with concern.

“Okay, what’s wrong with it?” the agent asked.

“His wings are clipped.”

“Clipped?” the agent repeated, confused. “Are you saying someone made him flightless on purpose?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The line went quiet for a beat. “Anything else wrong with him?”

“Yes… there’s a chance that he might be suicidal.”

“A suicidal Charizard with clipped wings?” the man echoed, stunned. After a pause, his tone shifted, more pointed. “Are there any other details? Something on the tail, claws… maybe even a wing?” He dragged out the last word, clearly fishing for something more.

Blaine hesitated, briefly recalling the emblem and serial number etched into Max’s wing. But after a moment, he said simply, “Nope, that’s it.”

A sigh came through the receiver, tinged with disappointment. “Alright. We’ll send over someone who specializes in Pokémon with abuse trauma.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said, hanging up as he leaned back in his chair, his mind still on the Charizard down the hall.

Chapter Text

On Cinnabar Island, a fleet of boats pulled up to a secluded stretch of shoreline, far from the bustle of town. Team Aqua members disembarked quickly, unloading crates and equipment as they began setting up a temporary base of operations. Just offshore, Kyogre briefly surfaced, its massive form casting ripples through the water. A sleek, reflective mask covered its eyes—similar to the gear worn by Team Break.

Shelly, the leader of the squad, stepped into the shallows, waves brushing against her boots as she looked toward the distant town. The morning sun glinted off the scorched, glass-like sand where the beach had once been, casting an eerie shimmer across the coast.

“The Charizard is here,” she called out, her voice sharp with urgency. “Let’s move!”

————————————————————

Meanwhile, Eclipsa felt the plane touchdown, the jolt causing the surrounding luggage to shift and topple. She steadied herself, moving quietly to a corner of the cargo hold. As the door opened, a man and his Bewear began unloading bags, tossing them onto a truck below.

Seizing the moment, Eclipsa nudged over a stack of suitcases, drawing their attention. While they were distracted, she slipped out the opening, landing hard but clean on the tarmac. She sprinted across the ground, weaving between crates and vehicles until she reached a tall security fence.

With no time to waste, she released Velvet from her Pokéball. The Charizard let out a low growl before unleashing a searing Flamethrower, melting through the fence’s metal bars. Together, they clambered through the gap and made their way down a steep slope to the beach below.

As she began making her way toward town, Eclipsa reached the stretch of beach transformed into shimmering glass by Max’s power. The early light reflected off the surface in eerie patterns, distorting her reflection beneath her feet. She paused, glancing up toward the hill where the Cinnabar Island Gym stood.

After a moment, she turned to Velvet. “Ready to see him.” she asked, Velvet nodded, and with a flick of her wrist, Eclipsa recalled the Charizard into the Pokéball, clipping it to her belt before continuing on toward the hill in silence.

————————————————————

Max entered the gym alongside Daniel and Ninetales, the newly-forged armor wings securely fastened to his clipped ones, fitting like a second skin. He stretched them out cautiously, each flap slow and calculated as the mechanical joints flexed in perfect sync with his movements. The subtle hum of the mechanisms echoed through the gym.

Feeling the strength and balance return to his body, Max’s eyes lit up with hope. He crouched, pushed off the ground, and launched himself into the air. The wind rushed past him as he glided, then flapped—hard. His form stabilized. He was flying.

Daniel raised both fists triumphantly. “It’s working, you’re flying!”

Max circled the gym a few more times before landing, his breathing heavy but his posture tall. For the first time in a long while, he could fly anywhere he wanted—he felt free.

Meanwhile, Blaine stood at the top of the gym’s stone steps, arms crossed as he waited. Shelly approached from the path, dressed in a crisp, professional suit that matched the attire of standard Pokémon Care Service agents. Her expression was composed, her gait purposeful. As they met, the two exchanged a firm handshake.

“You must be Blaine,” Shelly said.

“And you are?”

“Shelly. I was assigned to assess the Charizard’s condition.”

Blaine gave a slight nod, turning to lead her inside. “He’s in the gym. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Inside, Max had just finished a rough landing, skidding a bit on the floor before dropping to one knee. Daniel and Ninetales rushed toward him, but Max only chuckled—his chest rising and falling with exertion, but his eyes bright with something long absent: peace. It was his first true flight—one of his own strength, not borrowed from the blood of legends.

“You alright?” Daniel asked, crouching beside him.

Max gave a low, amused growl.

Daniel examined the armor wings carefully, checking joints and connectors. Everything held. “No damage,” he said with a smile. “We’ll work on the landing part.”

With Max now walking beside them, they moved toward the central arena of the gym, where other Pokémon battles were underway. The gym was a large open space, lined with stone pillars and benches above. As they entered, Shelly and Blaine stepped out onto the upper level to observe. The light from the high windows cast long rays down onto the battlefield.

“There,” Blaine said, pointing to the floor. “That’s him.”

Shelly followed his finger and saw Max standing beside Daniel—taller than most, wings reinforced by sleek armor, tail burning steady. Max looked up toward them for just a moment, Daniel gave a casual wave. Blaine responded with a wave as well.

Shelly’s eyes narrowed slightly, making a silent note of everything she observed.

As Blaine descended the stairs toward the gym floor, Shelly lingered just a step behind, her fingers subtly pressing against the earpiece hidden beneath her hair.

“I’ve got eyes on him,” she whispered.

Blaine turned slightly. Shelly quickly lowered her hand and rubbed her neck to mask the motion.

“You coming?” Blaine asked, brow raised.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she replied, walking briskly to catch up.

He gave her a sideways glance. “Neck alright? I know a good massage place in town.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said curtly, her focus clearly divided.

Meanwhile, the gym’s atmosphere shifted dramatically. One by one, the ongoing Pokémon battles came to a stop as the trainers and their Pokémon turned their attention to Max. The tension was palpable.

Max approached a Vigoroth in the center ring, but both it and its trainer stepped back, eyes wide. A Dragalge backed off from the far corner, and a Lucario froze mid-punch, staring. It wasn’t just the unfamiliar armor or the fire in his tail—it was the quiet gravity Max carried, the shadow of fear that trailed him like a second flame.

He looked around, hoping to spar, to prove something—maybe to them, maybe to himself. But no one stepped forward.

Then he spotted another Charizard across the room. For a second, hope sparked in his eyes. But even that one stepped away, averting its gaze as it backed off, fear etched into its movement.

Max’s shoulders sagged. Even his own kind were afraid of him. The weight of isolation, of being seen as a monster, pressed heavy on his chest.

That’s when Daniel’s Ninetales quietly padded onto the arena floor, her many tails swaying with elegance and resolve. She met Max’s eyes, then lowered her body into a fighting stance, flames flickering softly from her paws.

A silent challenge. A quiet offer of trust.

Max blinked, caught off guard—then nodded slowly, stepping forward to meet her. Finally, someone willing to stand with him.

Ninetales opened the battle with a searing Fire Blast, the blazing star-shaped flames rushing toward Max. He braced himself and used Endure, the fire engulfing him but not stopping him. The others watched in tense silence as the flames cleared to reveal Max still standing, smoke curling from his scales.

With a growl, Max launched himself into the air and spun into an Air Slash, the cutting winds slicing toward Ninetales. She smirked, unfazed, and darted forward with a Tail Whip—not for stat-lowering, but a flurry of physical strikes. All nine of her tails cracked across his face, one by one. Max winced, fur brushing into his mouth. He spat it out onto the floor, clearly annoyed.

With a frustrated roar, he dived down and used Wing Attack, the armored wings glowing faintly as they struck Ninetales. The force staggered her, making her skid across the arena floor.

Regaining her footing, Ninetales narrowed her eyes and unleashed a blinding Dazzling Gleam. The burst of radiant light overwhelmed Max mid-air, and he came crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.

Silence again. Then, Ninetales trotted over and gently nudged him. Max let out a dry chuckle, a small puff of smoke escaping his nostrils. He slowly rose, sore but smiling. The two Pokémon turned to each other and bowed, a quiet sign of respect.

As Max and Ninetales prepared to spar again, the energy in the gym shifted. Max was focused, determined—until he saw a familiar figure enter.

Eclipsa.

She ran toward him, her voice light with relief. “Max, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

But Max’s eyes locked onto the cast on her arm. The injury he caused.

His breath caught. The edges of his vision tunneled, her voice muffled and distant now. That cast was all he could see. That one moment, that one mistake, played over and over in his mind like fire—unrelenting and scorching. Max’s chest tightened. His breath came in short, sharp bursts. His claws curled into his palms. His instincts screamed for him to run. He bolted.

Eclipsa stopped mid-step, not following, sensing his distress. Daniel watched it unfold and stepped up beside her, Ninetales by his side. “You know him?”

“Yes,” she said softly, eyes still on the hallway Max disappeared into. “He’s my friend.”

Outside, Max stumbled into the fresh air, but it didn’t help. His breaths were erratic, his muscles trembling beneath the weight of panic. The breeze hit his face like static. Everything felt too loud. Too bright. Too close. He pressed his claws against his head, trying to block it all out.

“Hey,” came a voice—calm, measured.

Shelly.

She approached slowly, her steps calculated and unthreatening. “So… you’re Max?”

Max turned toward her, eyes wide, his whole body shaking. He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe right.

“It’s okay,” she said gently, inching closer. “I’m Shelly. I’m here to help.”

Without waiting for a response, she carefully reached for the armor wings, unclipping them and sliding them off his body with deliberate care. Max didn’t resist. He couldn’t. He just stood there, frozen in the storm inside his own mind.

“You’re okay,” Shelly whispered. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

Max followed, barely aware of his surroundings. As they descended the steps toward the beach, Shelly subtly raised two fingers behind her back and waved them. Hidden in the trees, Team Aqua snipers silently lowered their tranquilizer guns. There would be no need. Not yet.

Inside the gym, Eclipsa strode through the halls, her steps quick, tension rising. Behind her, Daniel and Blaine followed close, their concern mounting.

“What happened?” Daniel asked.

Eclipsa didn’t slow down. “He hit me—on the arm. It was an accident. He was scared, confused... so he ran.” She turned the corner down another hall. “Max?” she called out, her voice echoing down it.

Blaine furrowed his brow. “Where did you find him?”

“In a pharmacy,” she replied. “Bleeding, injured... He’s not from around here. He’s—he’s a Team Rocket experiment.”

Blaine and Daniel exchanged a look as they stepped outside. That’s when they saw it—the armor wings, discarded on the ground.

“An experiment?” Daniel echoed, his voice cautious.

“Yeah,” Eclipsa said, picking up the device. “They forced his evolution, turned him into a weapon. He was tortured, conditioned... whatever he is now, they caused it.”

Daniel crouched beside the armor, pointing at the frame. “He was wearing this. He has to be close.”

Eclipsa turned the wing piece over in her hands before reaching for Velvet’s Pokéball. She released the Charizard in a flash of red light. Velvet landed with a growl, only to blink at the strange contraption Eclipsa was holding.

“Put this on,” Eclipsa said gently, offering her the wings. “I need you to find him.”

Velvet hesitated, inspecting the device curiously before attaching it. She gave a few uncertain flaps. “Charizard?” she murmured, clearly unsure about the sensation.

Eclipsa stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “Velvet, breathe. You can do this.”

Blaine offered a calm smile. “Every Flying-type has to start somewhere.”

With a deep breath, Velvet stepped back, spread her wings—and took off.

Her first few moments in the air were shaky, clumsy, wings tipping slightly as she found her rhythm. But then—smooth, steady—she adjusted. She soared higher, scanning the shore below for any sign of Max.

————————————————————

In Ryme City, Grace and Jacob made their way through the dimly lit streets toward their hidden base—just a block away from the looming Team Rocket Laboratories. The neon sign above Gabite’s flickered weakly as they entered the seemingly abandoned restaurant, its inside eerily silent and dark.

Inside, the only movement came from the elegant figure of Meowscarada, waiting for them near the back. Without a word, she guided them down a hidden stairwell behind the kitchen. The basement lit up with a soft glow, and there stood Leo.

As soon as Grace saw him, she rushed forward—and Leo met her halfway. The two embraced tightly. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” Leo said, voice heavy with relief.

“We too,” Grace whispered, holding on just a moment longer.

Eva and Everett quickly circled around Leo, their tails wagging. He knelt down with a smile and ruffled their fur gently. “Hello, guys,” he said warmly.

But Jacob, always focused, wasted no time. “So, what’s the plan with the tower down the street?”

Leo stood up, nodding toward the far end of the room. “We have Simon’s Lucario with us. He knows every inch of that place—labs, security paths, even some of the hidden chambers the Pokémon we cured didn’t know existed.”

Jacob’s brow lifted slightly. “That’s promising. So what’s the catch?”

Leo hesitated. His eyes shifted toward the corner, where Lucario sat in silence. He was slowly spinning a fidget spinner between his fingers, his gaze distant, haunted. “There’s just one problem,” Leo said quietly. “Ever since he killed Simon, he’s barely said a word.”

Grace and Eva nodded in silent agreement before Grace stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “I was there when it happened. Let me talk to him.”

Leo gave a short nod and stepped aside, guiding her toward the shadowed corner where Lucario sat alone, his figure slouched and dimly illuminated by the soft light of the underground base. His eyes lifted slowly, recognizing Grace—and Eva beside her.

“Hey,” Grace said gently. “Mind if we talk to you?”

Lucario stiffened, the fidget spinner stilling between his fingers. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t look away either.

Grace sat down on the chair in front of him, Eva curling up beside her. “I know you and Simon had been together for a long time. Maybe even since you were just a little Riolu, right?”

Lucario blinked slowly, pain flickering across his face.

“But... he tried to kill you,” Grace said softly. “He tried to steal your body—erasing your consciousness. You didn’t betray him. He betrayed you.”

Lucario looked away, guilt tightening every muscle in his jaw.

“I know you feel responsible. But Simon... he hurt people. A lot of people. He killed without remorse. What you did—it saved lives. You saved us. Don’t you remember? When he was going to shoot us, you stepped between us.”

Lucario’s paw twitched. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. But his shoulders trembled. That moment played over and over in his mind, a loop of horror and instinct colliding. He had killed the one person he trusted the most.

His voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper. “Lucario.”

Leo stepped forward then, resting a hand gently on Lucario’s shoulder. “You’re the only one who knows that place like the back of your hand. The only one who can get us in safely. Please… we need you.”

Lucario didn’t respond right away. He stared at the fidget spinner in his paw, watching it spin once more—faster and faster, like his thoughts. Finally, he stopped it with a sharp motion. He didn’t say yes. But he stood up. Pacing around until he finally nodded, agreeing to help them.

————————————————————

Shelly walked beside Max down the winding path to the beach. The long walk did some good—his breathing slowed, though his chest still felt tight. The quiet crash of waves and the salty breeze helped... but not enough. Then he froze. A sharp, primal fear surged in his chest. His Groudon instincts screamed. Something ancient. Something is wrong. Shelly noticed the change in his posture—his wings half-lifted, his claws flexed, his pupils sharp with alertness. She smiled faintly, not cruel, but calculating.

“You know,” she said softly, “Groudon and Kyogre are natural enemies. So when I heard you had Groudon’s DNA in you... I couldn’t resist bringing my friend.”

Max barely had time to turn toward the ocean when a blast of Ice Beam streaked from the waves, slamming into his chest. The force launched him backward—through one tree, then another, until he crashed into a jagged stone outcrop with a sickening crack. The impact knocked the air from his lungs.

From the surface rose Kyogre, massive and ancient, its roar echoing across the entire island. Though it saw only a Charizard, its senses told it was Groudon.

Max scrambled to his feet, his mind screaming at him to run. But Kyogre was already charging another attack, Water Spout.

From all directions, the ocean erupted. Jets of water exploded around him, hammering his body from every side. He was flung again into the cliff wall, his claws scraping for a grip before collapsing to the sand, coughing, dazed. He could barely breathe. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. And still, Kyogre was enraged.

The earth-shaking roar cracked through the air like thunder. Eclipsa’s heart dropped. “That was Kyogre,” she whispered.

Daniel and Blaine were already moving. “This way!” Blaine shouted.

They sprinted toward the coast as Velvet circled high above. From the sky, she spotted him—Max, barely moving, sprawled on the ground, struggling to rise. Her eyes narrowed as she dived, wings slicing the air.

She landed hard between Max and the massive form of Kyogre, shielding him with her body, growling low. But Kyogre's eyes flared with primal rage—now it saw two enemies. Two Groudons.

It screamed, then unleashed Hydro Pump. Twin blasts of high-pressure water tore toward them. Velvet yanked Max to his feet just in time, her wings straining as they leapt out of the way. The attack struck where they’d just stood, blasting sand and rock into the air. Max gasped, soaked and coughing, too dazed to think.

On a nearby rock, Shelly sat calmly, arms crossed and a smile on her lips, watching like it was all a show. "This is better than I thought," she murmured.

Velvet crouched beside Max, her body tense, eyes locked on Kyogre. Max’s claws dug into the sand. His panic mixed with something else now—fury.

Before Kyogre could launch another strike, Max's claws began to glow—a deep, molten red.

Velvet stepped forward, but Max suddenly shoved her back, teeth clenched.
“Charizard!” he growled.

Steam hissed from his body. His scales cracked and fell away in chunks, revealing jagged stone beneath, glowing with veins of magma. Max screamed—raw and guttural—as lava bubbled from his mouth, scalding the ground beneath him. Velvet flinched but held her ground, helpless to stop it. He doubled over, smoke pouring from his back. His muscles surged. His wings tore at the air. With a voice not fully his own, Max roared— “GROUDON!”

The cry echoed like an earthquake across the coast. When he finally looked up, his eyes glowed a furious, unnatural red. He wasn't Max anymore. Groudon had taken over. He turned to Kyogre—no hesitation, no fear. Just rage. Whether Max wanted this or not… the battle was happening now. Max roared and charged, launching a Lava Plume across the sand. Kyogre dove beneath the surface, dodging cleanly before countering with a sudden Ice Beam from below. Max flared his wings wide, bracing himself—Endure absorbing the brunt of the strike. The beam forced him back, ice scraping against his molten body, but he held firm as the energy deflected sideways.

With a sharp beat of his wings, Max took to the air, lava still coursing through his veins. He summoned both Solar Beam and Precipice Blades—flames swirling around the brilliant beam of light. The two attacks merged into a devastating strike that slammed into Kyogre, boiling the sea and filling the air with a thick mist.

For a moment, all was silent. Then, a low rumble—and from the mist, Kyogre erupted, breaching like a torpedo. Max barely had time to brace before the full weight of Kyogre's Body Slam came crashing down, slamming him into the beach with earth-shattering force. The sand cratered. The ground trembled. Max—still in his Groudon form—was pinned beneath the legendary whale, crushed under the power of his ancient rival.

Within the psychic plane, Max writhed in agony on an invisible floor, his body blistered and scorched. Every nerve screamed—Kyogre's last Body Slam had shattered something deep inside. He clutched at his sides, gasping.
“Groudon, stop—stop fighting…” he begged.

"Not until he's dead!" Groudon’s voice thundered through the void like an erupting volcano.

“You’re going to get me killed!” Max screamed—just as Groudon forced his body to unleash Eruption. Fire and magma exploded from him in the real world, sending Kyogre hurtling through the air. Burns streaked across the sea titan’s body as it crashed back into the water.

But instead of retreating, Kyogre's body began to glow. Its skin shimmered, fins widening, energy erupting from within—Primal Kyogre emerged. With a bone-shaking roar, the Team Break mask snapped off its face and shattered on the ground.
From her perch, Shelly leapt to her feet, eyes wide. “No—no, we've lost control!”

Back in the psychic plane, the space trembled—Dialga appeared in a flash of blue light, his presence stretching the air like taffy.

“You’re going to kill him, Groudon,” Dialga growled.

“You won’t stop me, Dialga.”

“We still need his body.” Dialga snarled—and lunged. The celestial dragon slammed into Groudon with Take Down, the collision cracking the void like glass. Groudon reeled, flames sputtering.

In the real world, Groudon—with Max’s body—shot into the air, roaring. His molten fist ignited as he descended, smashing into Primal Kyogre with a blinding Fire Punch, the shockwave lighting up the entire coast.

Eclipsa, Blaine, and Daniel reached the shoreline, only to freeze at the sight of Max and Kyogre locked in a brutal battle. Before they could get any closer, Team Aqua operatives emerged from the trees, surrounding them with Pokémon at the ready and guns drawn.

Shelly stood on a nearby rock, slow-clapping with a smug smile.
“Hi, Blaine. Sorry I lied.”

Eclipsa stepped forward, eyes locked on the battle. “You’re going to kill him?!”

Shelly shrugged, not even looking at her. “That wasn’t the plan. Kyogre was just supposed to soften him up—break his will so we could transport him. But…” She gestured toward the fallen Team Break mask. “Well, that ship’s sailed. The mask snapped, Kyogre’s gone primal, and frankly, I'm sure Team Rocket won’t mind. One Groudon in the world is bad enough. We don’t need some hybrid freak version running around too.”

Eclipsa’s eyes burned. “That Charizard is not a freak!”

Shelly made a small hand signal. A grunt stepped forward and cracked Eclipsa across the head with his rifle. She stumbled, gasping in pain. “Keep that attitude,” Shelly said coldly. “The next one will be a bullet.”

Hearing Eclipsa's gasp, something broke through Max’s haze of agony. He forced his burning eyes open just enough to glimpse her — surrounded by Team Aqua, a grunt’s rifle still raised. A few feet away, Velvet lay motionless, tranquilizer darts piercing her wings and sides like cruel needles. The sight twisted something deep inside him.

In the psychic plane, Max lay sprawled on an invisible floor scorched with cracks of molten red. Every breath seared his throat. His scales were sloughing off, curling and falling like ash, revealing raw, lava-veined skin beneath. Tears mixed with sweat, but evaporated before they could fall. Everything hurt—his bones, his flesh, his mind.

He rolled over with a trembling groan, every movement pained. But he had to stop this. He clawed at the floor, dragging himself inch by inch toward Groudon, who towered above in a furious clash with Dialga. Groudon’s fists glowed with primal power, fighting Dialga here in the mind—while also wielding Max’s real body against Primal Kyogre in the waking world. Dialga hurled an Aura Sphere, the light bursting through the void—Groudon retaliated with Fissure, a quake so powerful it cracked the psychic plane itself, fissures racing in every direction. Dialga stumbled, its three legs unable to steady it, slamming down with a growl.

“You’re not going to succeed,” Dialga said, breath strained. “This Charizard will die for nothing.”

“That’s fine,” Groudon spat. “He’s the one feeling the pain, not me. So I can keep going.”

But Groudon suddenly winced. A flicker of heat bit at his ankle. Max, on all fours now, had launched a weak Flamethrower—his mouth glowing with fractured embers. It barely singed Groudon, but it was enough to get his attention.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Groudon growled. Max didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His voice was gone. But his fangs sank into Groudon’s toe, and his claws—trembling, cracked—began ripping into the soft tissue around the base of the claw. Groudon roared, trying to shake him off. But Max held on.

Dialga took the opportunity—slamming into Groudon with Metal Cannon, then following up with a brutal Take Down, pinning him. “Now!” Dialga snarled. Max screamed through clenched teeth as he dug deeper into the wound, claws slick with molten blood. Groudon howled, struggling violently.

In the real world, the Groudon-Charizard hybrid suddenly staggered mid-air, then crashed onto the beach, clutching his foot in pain, growling incoherently. Everyone froze. Even Primal Kyogre. No one understood what just happened—But Max was fighting back.

Max’s eyes flickered—red turning to yellow—and he let out a piercing scream as his body convulsed, the primal energy finally relinquishing its hold. With a ragged gasp, he collapsed to the sand, his twitching form beginning to shrink and shift back into that of a Charizard, but barely recognizable. His scales were blackened, his wings torn, and his breaths shallow—burnt from the inside out.

Scrambling to his feet, Daniel sprinted across the bloodied beach and dropped to his knees beside Max, tearing open his backpack for a med kit. But before he could reach for a potion, a Toxtricity raised its frills and spat a spray of acid, striking Daniel in the chest. He screamed and hit the ground, writhing.

“Dan!” Blaine shouted, but was immediately restrained by a grunt forcing him back.

Max lay still, eyes fluttering. He didn’t resist as a small group of Sylveons emerged, their ribbon-like feelers curling and coiling around his limbs and torso. The glowing ribbons constricted him tightly before lifting him off the ground, suspended like prey.

In the ocean, Kyogre let out one final low call before turning away from the fight and disappearing beneath the surface, its massive form fading into the dark water. Shelly watched it go, fists clenched in frustration.

“Giovanni better pay us extra for this catch,” she muttered, turning sharply back toward her team. “Forget Kyogre. Tie up the rest and get that Charizard on the ship. Now.”

Max weakly turned his head toward the voice he heard—Eclipsa. “Max, get up! Please!” she screamed, struggling against the ropes starting to bind her.

Max’s eyes met hers. But there was nothing left in him. He passed out, his head slumping forward.

The two Shaymins—one in Land Forme, one in Sky Forme—arrived alongside their trainers. With vines and overgrown roots summoned from the ground, they wrapped around Blaine and Eclipsa, tightly binding them. As Shelly walked by, she stopped only when Blaine growled from the ground. “You’re not going to get away with this, Team Aqua.”

Shelly smirked, not even looking back. “Oh, but I will, see you around.” She climbed aboard a boat just as Max’s limp body was secured inside. The Aqua grunts followed, engines roaring as they pulled away from the shore, fading into the horizon. Behind them, Daniel lay unconscious, Velvet unmoving, and Blaine and Eclipsa bound and helpless, left in silence beneath the setting sun.

————————————————————

Beneath Rocket Laboratories, Lucario led the group through a maze of secret passages. The walls were dimly lit, damp with age and secrecy. Above them, the distant echoes of Pokémon battles and gunfire rumbled like thunder—reminders of the chaos unfolding on the streets. They reached a large steel door. Lucario hesitated, paw hovering over the control panel. His body trembled, old memories threatening to resurface. But then he felt a gentle paw on his back—Meowscarada, eyes calm and reassuring. He took a breath and steadied himself.

Grace, Jacob, and Harry checked their weapons, the cold click of metal echoing in the tight corridor. Eva and Everett stood side by side, their E-Necklaces glowing as they evolved into Umbreons, shadows rippling across their fur. The rest of the group turned, stunned by the sudden transformation.

N stepped forward, drawing their attention with a firm voice. “Alright. We go in, gather intel, and make arrests. No killing—unless absolutely necessary. Understood?”

A round of nods and low affirmations followed.

N looked at Lucario. “Let us in.”

Lucario nodded, exhaling one final breath before pressing the buttons. The panel blinked green. With a hiss of steam and grinding metal, the massive door began to open.

————————————————————

In Gloire City, Team Aqua's ship pulled into the harbor under heavy fog. Without delay, Team Rocket operatives swarmed the dock, hauling the reinforced container off the vessel with practiced efficiency. Shelly stepped forward, her arms crossed, face tight with irritation as she approached Isha and Giovanni.

“I lost my Kyogre because of that thing,” she snapped, jerking her head toward the container. “So where’s our pay?”

Giovanni gave a casual nod to his assistants, who stepped up with several metal briefcases, flipping them open to reveal stacks of cash. “Payment, as promised,” Giovanni said smoothly. “Thank you for delivering the asset.”

Shelly took one last glance at the container, then turned away with the other Aqua members, satisfied—for now. Isha leaned in, watching the container being wheeled toward the lab's entrance. “So… what are we doing with it?”

Giovanni’s gaze was cold and unwavering. “We’re going to send the world a message. First, we lure as many PIA agents here as possible…” His voice darkened. “…then we reduce Gloire City to ash. Agents, residents, Pokémon—every last one.”

Inside the container, Max stirred. His eyes fluttered open, only for a wave of paralysis to grip his limbs. Tubes snaked into his body—pumping in a cocktail of drugs that kept him weak, dull, limp.

At first, everything was a blur… then his heart dropped. Through a thin slit in the metal, Max caught sight of Gloire’s Castle rising in the distance—those familiar stone towers against a grey sky. His breathing quickened.

No… not here… not again.

Memories surged—needles, restraints, the searing pain of transformation.

I'm back…

He tried to move, but his muscles barely responded. Panic clawed at his chest. The drugs were drowning his thoughts, pulling him under like dark water. His tail twitched weakly. His claws curled.

I have to get out. I have to…

But the world was slipping again, and all Max could do was stare—terrified and helpless—as the container rolled deeper into the heart of the nightmare that made him.

Chapter Text

Deep beneath Gloire’s Castle, Max thrashed against a shimmering force field, teeth bared, claws sparking faint embers that fizzled uselessly in the damp air. The testing chamber was humid, deliberately so—his tail flame barely a flicker, kept weak by the moisture. He panted, exhausted, water pooling around his feet. Then, something caught his eye. Just beneath his clavicle, where raw stitches carved through a fresh scar, a small red light pulsed. Faint, steady, buried near his heart. His pupils narrowed.

High above, behind reinforced glass, Isha and a team of Rocket engineers examined monitors, lines of code, and waveforms—each connected to one thing: that glowing light.

“How’s the trigger?” Giovanni asked, arms folded as he approached the console.

“The signal’s strong,” Isha replied. “We’ll have full control the moment we activate it.”

Giovanni gave a small nod, then made his way down to the observation level, his ever-calm Persian padding beside him. Below, Max snarled as Giovanni approached the barrier, a translator unit buzzing to life between them. Max pointed at the red light stitched into his chest. “What did you do to me?”

Giovanni’s gaze was cold, his voice even colder. “That’s your detonation trigger. If you step out of line—or if we simply choose to—you’ll explode. We’ll be watching from a safe distance.”

Max’s claws twitched. “You’re bluffing.”

“We’re not,” Giovanni said, stepping closer. “We can activate it with the push of a button. You won’t even have time to scream before you destroy everything around you.”

Max’s jaw clenched, fire rising in his throat, quickly quelled by the heavy humidity. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Giovanni smirked faintly. “But you will. That’s the beauty of it—you’ll kill on our behalf, and you’ll live long enough to see it. If you try to leave? We’ll detonate it near your friends. And as you heal, we’ll drag you right back.”

Max stared down at his reflection in the water below. His eyes were glassy—anger eclipsed by dread. The red light blinked back at him, like a heartbeat that wasn’t his.

“...How do you live like this?” Max asked quietly.

Giovanni paused for a moment, as if considering it, then turned away. “We’ll be sending the Pokémon Inspection Agency a distress signal soon,” he said. “Once they arrive, you’ll eliminate them all. Gloire City too.” He turned his back on Max. “You’ll bring the beginning of Rocket's era, Charizard. And no one will remember you as anything but a weapon.”

Then the doors hissed shut behind him. Max slowly slumped to the floor, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, the light on his chest blinking steady and silent. The room was quiet—save for the dripping water and the quiet sound of a prisoner realizing there was nothing left to fight with.

————————————————————

Velvet stirred, her limbs trembling as she forced herself upright. Empty tranquilizer darts clattered to the ground one by one as she yanked them from her body, grunting with each painful pull. Her wings twitched weakly, and her breaths came in ragged gasps. From where they lay bound, Eclipsa lifted her head. “Velvet… help us out,” she said, voice strained.

The Charizard staggered forward, swaying with each step, but managed to reach them. She clawed at the ropes with what little strength she had, finally tearing them loose. Once free, Eclipsa caught her breath, then turned to help Velvet with the remaining darts embedded in her scales. “Hold still,” she said softly.

A short distance away, Blaine knelt beside Daniel. The man’s body was motionless, his skin pale. Blaine placed a hand on his friend’s chest, waiting—for something, anything. Nothing came. “He’s gone,” Blaine said quietly, eyes glassy. He gently closed Daniel’s eyes. “He was a friend… an engineer.”

He reached for Daniel’s bag just as Eclipsa’s phone buzzed with a sharp, urgent tone.

She pulled it out, eyes scanning the screen. Her heart sank. “Distress signal. Gloire City. Max is there.” Her voice wavered. “They’ve taken him.”

Blaine looked up at her, then down at Daniel once more. He rose slowly, squaring his shoulders, grief hardening into revenge. “They messed with the wrong gym,” he said. “Let’s make them pay… and get your Charizard back.” Eclipsa nodded. The two clasped hands, not just in alliance—but in shared resolve.

————————————————————

At the PIA, Ash was standing in front of a wall, watching, waiting, thinking, the wall covered in evidence and information. When May entered with her Blaziken, knocking for his attention. “Hey Ash, we have an emergency meeting that's about to start.”

“Why, I didn't call for one.” Ash asked with intrigue.

“Well, Corey got a distress message from Gloire City, and the Charizard is currently there.”

Both Ash and Pikachu look at each other, fear on their faces. They make their way to the meeting room, the group settles and Corey begins to read the message. “Hello, I am currently hidden at Gloire City and found the Charizard. As of now, the castle is abandoned but Team Rocket is planning on picking him up soon.” Corey, puts down the message then continues “We need to act fast, this might be our only chance.”

“What about the other Charizard?” One of them asked.

Ash then speaks up, “From what I can understand, Rocket doesn't care about the other Charizards, just Max, he's the target.”

“So we're going to get him?” Sirius asked.

“Yes, we'll form a unit and make our way there, and we do it in a timely manner.” Ash said, the meeting concluded. As everyone dispersed, Ash lingered behind with Corey and May. “You two get ready,” Ash said, nodding to both. “I’ll speak to Officer Jenny, get a team of PIA agents assembled to back you up.”

“Thank you,” May replied, her voice steady but anxious.

Corey glanced at Ash. “And what about you? What will you be doing?”

Ash gave him a dry smirk. “Stay behind and watch you two do all the work.” Then, more sincerely, “I'm kidding, of course I’m coming.” Pikachu leapt up to Ash’s shoulder with a spark of anticipation as the three of them exited the room and disappeared into the hallway.

Unbeknownst to them, a small Spinarak was crawling beside its trainer—its legs stiff, eyes glassy. A moment later, it shook its head rapidly, disoriented. Its trainer noticed and knelt beside it in concern, gently petting its carapace.

Across the building, Mewtwo floated in quiet vigil over the comatose body of Sky. Its gaze never left her, even as he released his psychic tether from the Spinarak. But Max’s situation demanded attention. Closing its eyes, Mewtwo's form shimmered slightly as its consciousness reached outward—up, out of the building, into the clouds above, until it found a Yanmega soaring far above. With a pulse of thought, Mewtwo took hold. Before it, Latias and Latios were cutting through the air in elegant formation. Latias slowed, her sharp gaze catching the strange glint in the Yanmega’s glowing eyes. She nudged her brother. “That’s Mewtwo.”

Latios glanced back, then grinned. “Hello, Mewtwo.”

From the Yanmega’s mouth came a calm, otherworldly voice. “I need a favor.”

Latias narrowed her eyes. “We don’t do favors, Mew.”

But Latios chuckled. “Come on, Mewtwo helped us before. What is it?”

“There’s a Charizard in Gloire City,” Mewtwo said. “He’s trapped. And he’s going to need help.”

“Just a Charizard?” Latias asked skeptically.

There was a pause. “You’ll recognize him,” Mewtwo said. “He has a serial number branded into his wing.”

The air fell quiet between the two dragons. Latios tilted his head. “Interesting. What do you think?”

Latias sighed. “Fine. We’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” Mewtwo said, his voice fading as it released the Yanmega from its control. The large insect veered off, flying freely once again. Without a word, Latias and Latios pivoted midair, their bodies glowing as they picked up speed, cutting through the sky in the direction of Gloire City.

————————————————————

In the dimly lit testing chamber, Max struggled to stay on his feet. The humid air clung to his scales, his flames reduced to faint embers by the damp floor beneath him. A thin layer of water lapped at his claws, barely enough to reflect the faint glow beginning to pulse from within them. His breath hitched—then a searing jolt shot through his chest.

“GRAAH—Charizard!” Max cried out, his voice echoing through the chamber as he collapsed, clutching at the scar near his heart, the source of his pain. The implanted trigger responded mercilessly to his rising power, shocking his heart into submission. He gasped, teeth gritted, as his muscles spasmed.

From above, Isha stood behind reinforced glass, watching impassively. Despite the agony, Max pushed himself back up, body trembling. His claws flickered again, trying to ignite the diamond glow—trying to break free.

Isha narrowed his eyes. “Why does he keep doing this? He knows we won’t let him reach his diamond form.”

One of the doctors on his team glanced at the monitors, noting the irregular spikes in Max’s vitals. “He scored higher than the others for a reason,” the doctor said quietly. “There’s something in him… something that refuses to die.”

“He’s going to, if this keeps up,” Isha muttered. “His heart won’t last under this strain.” He turned sharply to the medical staff. “Monitor his vitals—closely. I want to know the moment his heart flutters wrong. And send someone down there to stop him before he kills himself.”

As Isha exited the observation deck, Max stood once more in the chamber below, drenched, panting, and shaking—but still standing. And still trying. The door hissed open. A woman in a crimson dress stepped through, heels clicking on the floor. She removed her glasses, revealing pitch-black eyes. Max didn’t acknowledge her. His breath came in ragged gasps, scales glinting with sweat, claws flickering faintly as he tried again to summon the power within. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked coolly.

The translator on the wall buzzed to life as Max responded, voice low but strained.
“Trying to turn into my other form.”

“You need to stop. Your heart’s beginning to strain,” she warned.

“Then stop shocking me.” His growl rumbled through the chamber.

She paused for a beat, expression unreadable. “We can’t do that. You’re powerful—but still a risk.”

Max finally turned to face her, fury burning in his eyes. “Then I guess you’re stuck. Because there is no way I’m helping Rocket. Either I transform and escape… or I die here.”

“Or,” she said softly, “you could join us.”

Max bared his teeth. “I’m not killing for Rocket. Not after the torture. Not after everything you did to us.” His voice was venomous.

But she didn’t even flinch. “We’re building something better. A world without Pokémon battles,” she said, voice laced with charm—but it was a blade behind silk.

He scoffed. “And how many cities do I have to destroy before you decide the ‘new world’ is good enough?”

Silence. She didn’t answer. Max turned back toward the center of the chamber, preparing again—until a sudden blast of icy water slammed into his side. He gasped, body seizing from the cold. He turned, growling—but where the woman stood now loomed a Lapras, her black eyes still unmistakably hers. “I told you to stop,” she said. “Either I freeze you until you’re needed, or you sit and wait like a good weapon.”

Shivering, Max stared at her, defiant even through clenched teeth. “You won’t win. None of you will.”

“That’s why we have you.” The Lapras gave a chilling smile before blasting him again, sending him crashing back against the wall.

“You’ll learn to love it. You just need time to adjust.” Then, slowly, she shifted back into the woman, glasses once again concealing her Ditto eyes. Without another word, she turned and left. Max slumped, shivering, staring up at the ceiling. The cold clung to his body. And for the first time in a long while, hope felt far away.

————————————————————

Eclipsa and Blaine rode a boat with Lass Cindy across the dark ocean, the three-day journey from Cinnabar Island offering just enough time to prepare and train. By the time they neared Gloire City under the cover of night, Eclipsa—now dressed in black—stood near the bow, eyes fixed on the looming silhouette of the castle that dominated the skyline. Lass approached, quietly offering her a bowl of ramen. “Eat up. We’re going to be busy tonight.”

“I know,” Eclipsa murmured, taking the bowl without looking away. “I just don’t know how we’re going to get him out of this.”

“Well, Blaine has an idea.”

“No, Lass… I mean what he is.” Eclipsa finally looked at her. “Even if we get him out physically, they’ll keep coming. They’ll never stop. Millions of lives are at stake now—because of what they did to him.”

Lass tried to stay hopeful. “We’ll figure it out.”

But Eclipsa shook her head. “It’s not just Rocket. The Legendaries are in his head too. They’re using him. I want to help him—I have to—but…” Her voice trailed off, the weight of it all crushing her.

Lass placed a hand on her shoulder. “What matters is that we try. No one knows what’s coming, but once he’s safe, we’ll figure it out—together.”

Eclipsa sat down quietly, finally digging into the ramen. “I just hope we can find a place where he’ll actually be safe.”

Meanwhile, on the lower deck, Blaine stepped into a small supply closet. He pulled out a box, opening it to reveal an old sidearm. He checked the magazine, dusted it off, and clipped it to a belt under his shirt. He glanced at his Rhydon beside him. “Ready?”

Rhydon gave a slow, steady nod.

————————————————————

Meanwhile, in the city, a crowd of people and Pokémon had gathered outside the castle gates, shouting at the guards posted at the entrance. Team Rocket’s flag waved above them, flapping in the cold wind. Within the crowd, two figures stood side by side. The woman wore plain clothes and a red leather jacket, her eyes scanning the castle. The man beside her had on a blue raincoat, his expression cautious. “If the Charizard’s anywhere,” she said, “it’s in there—somewhere.”

“So,” he asked, glancing over at her, “how do you suggest we get in?”

She turned to him, thoughtful. “We walk around. There’s got to be something—an opening, a tunnel, maybe even a weak point we can use.”

He nodded. They took each other's hand and began moving away from the crowd, disappearing into the alleys while the sound of shouting echoed behind them.

Corey stood on the balcony of a hotel, eyes fixed on the growing protest below and the looming castle beyond. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to get in there with all this chaos.”

Ash stepped up behind him. “Well, about two years ago, the Charizards escaped through a small opening in the woods nearby.”

May added, “And our intel says they abandoned the castle afterward. Since they’ve only been back a few days, there's a good chance they haven’t repaired the hole yet.”

“That explains the Durants,” Corey muttered, rubbing his chin.

Just then, the hotel room door opened. An agent named Craig entered, an Eevee trotting beside him. The Eevee wore a sleek collar with a glowing gem at its center—an E-Necklace. Ash turned. “Hey, Craig.”

“Hi,” Craig replied.

May's eyes narrowed curiously. “What’s that on your Eevee?”

“That’s an E-Necklace,” Craig explained. “We recovered a few from the Ryme City facility after it collapsed.”

Ash approached and looked at the device with concern. “Be careful with that. I think yours might be one of the prototype models.”

“Eevee,” the Pokémon responded with a firm nod. Pikachu hopped off Ash’s shoulder and padded over, inspecting the gem embedded in the necklace with interest.

————————————————————

As the boat docked, the group worked together to tie it down. Velvet stood near the bow, her eyes locked on the distant castle that loomed above the city. A flood of memories washed over her—pain, fear, and the echo of screams. Her claws trembled. Her body refused to move. They began to disembark, but noticed Velvet hadn’t followed. She remained frozen, eyes wide, her breathing shallow. Eclipsa stepped back onto the boat and gently held out a hand. “Come on,” she said softly.

Velvet looked at the outstretched hand for a long moment, then raised her foot to step onto the wooden dock—but stopped. Her whole body quaked. No matter how much she wanted to help her mate, her trauma shackled her in place. She stepped back, tears welling in her eyes. Eclipsa moved closer, wrapping her arms around the trembling Charizard. “I know it’s a lot,” she whispered. “You don’t have to go.”

Velvet choked on her words, her throat tight with emotion. Her eyes darted between the castle and the friends before her, torn between fear and love, guilt and loyalty. She looked away, shoulders sinking. She felt useless. Then Blaine stepped forward. “Someone should stay behind and guard the ship,” he said pointedly, meeting Velvet’s eyes.

Velvet’s expression shifted as she realized what he was offering: purpose. A role. She nodded with gratitude, bowing slightly. “Char…”

Eclipsa gave her a final squeeze, and Velvet hugged her back tightly before letting go. With a deep breath, Eclipsa turned toward the hill. They climbed the steep incline, the wind tugging at their clothes as they reached the back wall of the castle. Blaine stopped beside a large, rusted ventilation shaft half-hidden behind overgrown vines.

“Here,” he said. “This should take us into the lower levels.”

Lass tied a rope around a nearby tree while Eclipsa fastened her belt securely, a Pokéball meant for Max clipped firmly at her side. Blaine returned Rhydon to its ball and attached it to his belt. With a determined nod, Blaine descended first into the shaft, followed by Eclipsa and then Lass. One by one, they vanished into the shadows of the castle, ready to face whatever lay beneath.

Nearby, the two figures in red and blue stood at the tree line, quietly observing them. The man adjusted the collar of his raincoat, while the woman crossed her arms, eyes narrowing with focus. Without another word, their forms shimmered, glowing faintly before reshaping—their disguises peeling away like mist. In their place stood Latias and Latios, wings tucked close, eyes sharp. With a quiet hum of energy, they phased out of visibility, the air around them warping subtly as they activated their natural camouflage. Invisible and silent, they lifted into the air and followed the others down the shaft, wings fluttering without a sound. They maneuvered carefully, making sure not to disturb the ropes or make even the faintest breeze. Latios glanced at his sister, who nodded in unspoken agreement—they would not interfere unless absolutely necessary.

On the far side of the castle, hidden beneath thick layers of moss and vines, Ash and his team finally came upon the old escape tunnel—a gaping scar in the earth, torn open by Max two years prior. The Durants scrambled to clear the path for them. As the last rock shifted, Ash stepped forward, flashlight in hand. Pikachu, riding on his shoulder, gave a chirp and used Charge, his body glowing to provide extra light. The narrow passage yawned open, a dark artery into the heart of the castle.

Ash turned to May and Corey. “This is it.”

“Why aren’t there any guards?” May asked, uneasy, scanning the hallway.

Corey kept his voice low. “Maybe most of them are upstairs, with the protest.”

Ash frowned. “Let’s keep moving, fast but quiet.”

Meanwhile, high above the city, aboard a discreet black aircraft circling Gloire’s airspace, Giovanni stood in front of a screen displaying thermal imaging and live feeds from security drones. He calmly lifted the phone beside him and spoke into it with cold clarity. “They’re in.” He hung up. A red light flashed on a separate monitor, signaling the beginning of Phase Two.

Down below, at the castle's front entrance, Team Rocket guards began to move. Without a word, they marched inside the castle, the echo of their boots muffled only by the roar of the furious crowd outside. Within minutes, the gates slammed shut. From the rooftops to the deepest floors, the evacuation had begun.

In the testing chamber, the dim lights hummed above as Max lay curled on his side, the shallow layer of warm water rippling gently around him. His claws dragged listlessly through the surface, creating aimless patterns—his last form of resistance in a place where he had none left. His breathing was shallow. Every movement ached. The damp, humid air clung to his scales, weighing him down like chains. Three days in this cell had stolen what little strength remained. But it wasn’t the pain or exhaustion that broke him. It was hopelessness.

He slowly turned his head, looking up through the reinforced glass to the observation room above. Isha stood there, arms crossed, emotionless. For a brief second, their eyes met. No words were exchanged, just a silent, one-sided plea. Then Isha turned and walked away. Max closed his eyes. He’d heard the plan—the PIA was here. They’d come for him. Come to help. But they didn’t know. They didn’t understand. He was the trap. They’d walk into this place, guns raised and hope burning in their hearts, and all it would take was one signal—one flicker from the device in his chest—and he’d be the weapon to wipe them all out. The very people trying to save him.

A soft grunt escaped him, not from pain, but from something deeper. Guilt. Rage. Defeat. “Maybe I should stop fighting…” the thought surfaced like poison. “Maybe this is all I’m good for.” He stared into the water, watching his reflection ripple into nothingness. “Maybe… maybe I am just a bomb.”

He lay still again. No tears came. Just a numb, hollow surrender. And in the silence of the chamber, only the sound of slow, dragging claws echoed in the water—a once-mighty Charizard lost in the very castle that broke him.

Just as the last lab coat vanished from the glass observation deck above, the vent grating creaked open, and Blaine, Eclipsa, and Lass lowered themselves down with rope, boots thudding softly against cold metal as they dropped into the dim corridor behind the observation window. The sight inside the cell made Eclipsa’s heart drop. Max was lying motionless in the shallow water, his body slack and shaking slightly. He didn’t even lift his head when the vent opened—he didn’t want to believe it. If they were really here, it only meant more danger. He didn’t want to kill them. He couldn’t.

“MAX!” Eclipsa shouted, banging her palm against the thick glass. No response. No flicker of hope in his eyes. He didn’t turn. He wanted to believe it was just another hallucination, the kind that had been plaguing him for days now.

Lass tried the security panel beside the containment door. “Locked,” she hissed.

Blaine didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and smashed it against the door handle, metal crunching with a sharp CRACK. The door swung open with a hiss of air pressure. Eclipsa was the first one inside, racing down the steps to the flooded chamber floor.
She ran to him and dropped to her knees. “Hey, Max, it's me. I'm here. You’re okay now.” But Max shook his head, his body trembling—not from the cold, but from something far worse: resignation. “Max?” she said more softly, reaching toward him.

He didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, his hand rose slowly and pointed to his chest—where a faint red glow blinked beneath the scarred skin. “Cha...” he rasped. Eclipsa froze, breath catching in her throat.

“Guys...” Blaine’s voice came from behind, grim and quiet. “He’s armed.”

Eclipsa turned to him, then back to Max, finally seeing the blinking red light clearly under the scar near his heart.

Her hand trembled as she touched his shoulder. “No... no, no, we’re not leaving you here, Max. We’ll figure it out. We’ll get it out of you, okay? We’ll find a way.” She grabbed his clawed hand, tried to pull him up—but Max wouldn’t budge. He was too heavy, too weak, too scared. “Come on!” Eclipsa pleaded, tears brimming in her eyes. “This isn’t funny. Get up. Please. We’re here. You're safe now.”

But Max couldn’t. He shook his head again, and this time a broken sob escaped him. He couldn’t go with them—not without risking their lives. ‘If I leave this room…’ he thought, ‘I’ll kill her. I’ll kill everyone.’ He looked at Eclipsa for the first time, his eyes hollow with agony, and whispered something barely audible through the translator system. “Don’t save me, please. Just leave me here.”

————————————————————

On the aircraft, Giovanni leaned forward, eyes glued to the monitor, a cold whisper escaping his lips. “Come on… leave with them, you stupid Charizard.”

————————————————————

Back at the castle, Latias and Latios hovered invisibly within the halls, their eyes locked on the docking bay and the corridors. The last of the Rocket operatives had vanished, but a large truck remained parked in the bay—clearly meant for transporting something... or someone.
Nearby, Craig’s Eevee, now evolved into Leafeon, padded cautiously into the area, tail flicking with unease. Pikachu followed closely behind, sparks crackling faintly from its cheeks.

“Something’s not right, Latios,” Latias whispered telepathically.

“I know,” Latios replied. “But the question is… what?”

Inside the testing chamber, the doors hissed open again, this time admitting Ash, May, Corey, Craig, and several PIA agents, flashlights sweeping across the flooded floor and cracked tiles.

“PIA! Hands where I can see them!” One agent shouted, gun drawn.

Ash froze at the sight before him—Eclipsa kneeling beside the weakened Charizard. “Where’s Velvet?!” Ash barked, stepping forward.

May strode in behind her, quickly pulling Eclipsa into handcuffs, pushing her to her knees. Despite the manhandling, Eclipsa answered calmly, “She’s on the boat. Waiting for us.”

Ash let out a breath. “Good. We’ll take her… and him.”

But Max took a step back, eyes wide in panic, his mouth opening to speak—to warn them—I'm a trap, he tried to say. But a tranquilizer dart struck his side. His body stiffened, the warning never leaving his lips.

“Wait! You can’t take him!” Lass yelled, stepping forward.

“If you take him, you’re all going to die!” Blaine added, tone urgent, pleading.

Eclipsa’s voice shook with desperation. “I don’t know what Rocket’s planning, but this isn’t just a rescue. They left him here on purpose. There’s a detonator in his chest!”

Ash narrowed his eyes. “And why should I believe you?”

That hit Eclipsa hard. The handcuffs dug into her wrists as she knelt in silence, looking at the trembling, unconscious Max now being hoisted up.

Craig glanced around. “It would explain why we haven’t seen any guards. The place is too clean.”

May stepped forward impatiently. “We don’t have time for this.” She tossed a Pokéball toward Max—Click. Nothing. The ball hit the ground and failed to activate.

Ash then threw two of his own. Malamar and Meganium emerging, vines and tentacles wrapping around Max, lifting his limp form carefully into the air and they all move to the docking bay. Once there, Max’s eyes snapped open, hazy but alert—he could feel it. The trigger was charging. The tranquilizer had barely slowed him down—his body refused to stay dormant. His breath hitched, claws digging into the concrete, scales flickering with searing heat, glowing faintly like magma veins pulsing beneath his skin.

“What’s wrong with him?!” Corey shouted as he and the others backed away, eyes wide.

Max let out a strangled cry, thrashing violently in the grip of Malamar’s tentacles and Meganium’s vines, his body steaming now. They dropped him instinctively. He collapsed to the ground—trembling, growling, fighting—as a low hum filled the air.

From the castle bay doors, a convoy of black vehicles pulled in, headlights sweeping across the chaos. Officer Jenny stepped out first, confusion etched on her face. “What’s happening?!”

Eclipsa backed away, sweat on her forehead. “It’s the trigger—he’s going to explode!”

Ash turned to the doors. “Get him back inside! We can contain it!”

But the heavy doors slammed shut automatically, locking with a metallic clank. Max was locked outside. With them. A wave of heat rolled through the room, a rising furnace in the room and outside. Jenny turned toward one of the agents. “Override those doors—now!”

As one does, they try the panel, the circuit dark. “They’re offline!” he shouted back.

Max writhe again, dragging himself forward—his body trembling in pain. Craig scanned the area, then spotted the abandoned Rocket transport truck. “I have an idea!” he shouted. “Get that truck to him—NOW!”

Ash and Pikachu darted forward. Ash smashed the driver’s side window, unlocking the cab. “Pikachu, Charge!” The electric mouse released a burst of power into the controls. The truck’s engine roared to life. “Let’s move!” Ash shouted. “Meganium, Leafeon—get him in!”

The two Pokémon obeyed instantly, rushing to Max, even as the heat burned their vines. Max, groaning and barely conscious, clawed his way up the ramp under their guidance, flames licking the metal. Craig and Ash swap places and he turns to Jenny. “I’m going to drive him out as far as I can. Evacuate the city. NOW.”

Jenny hesitated, staring at the burning Charizard. Then she grabbed her radio. “City Control, this is Officer Jenny—Gloire is under threat. Begin immediate evacuation!”

Sirens erupted across the city. From the protests outside the gates to the furthest neighborhoods, alarms blared, and citizens panicked. Protesters scattered, trainers grabbed their Pokémon, and officers guided people out of the streets as the city descended into chaos.

Eclipsa, Blaine, and Lass were hastily loaded into the back of a police cruiser, the door slamming shut as sirens wailed across the city. The vehicle sped off, weaving through traffic as officers directed civilians away from the danger. Overhead, Latios and Latias soared, invisible but alert, their eyes scanning for the source of the tremors and heat.

Meanwhile, Craig gritted his teeth, gripping the wheel tightly as the Rocket truck groaned under the weight of its burning passenger. The air inside the cab was thick with heat, his palms slick with sweat. He looked back through the reinforced glass, catching sight of Max, hunched and trembling, glowing with an intensity that turned his silhouette gold. And then the tires blew. The truck veered violently, metal screaming as it tipped sideways and skidded across the pavement. Sparks flew. The world turned upside down. Craig slammed into the steering wheel, stunned. Dazed, he turned his head to the back—just in time to see Max lift his head, eyes blazing molten yellow.
Max roared, and the world erupted. A pulse of light—blinding and pure—ripped through the seams of the truck, followed by a violent explosion that tore the air apart. The fireball surged upward, blooming into a mushroom cloud of golden flame, visible across the entire region. The heatwave followed a second later, rolling out with devastating force.

From her cruiser, Eclipsa saw the flash on the horizon. Her eyes widened—there was no time to run. She shut them tight, expecting to be turned to ash in seconds. while Ash and Pikachu dove behind a concrete pillar. “Pikachu, Protect—now!”

The Electric-type let out a sharp cry, a glowing shield springing up just as the shockwave hit. The pillar cracked behind them as glass from nearby car windows exploded, debris raining down. Above the chaos, Latias and Latios acted in perfect sync. They locked wings, combining their energy to create a barrier of psychic and draconic energy that spread like a dome over the heart of Gloire City. The forcefield shimmered, bending but holding, absorbing the worst of the blast. Still, the city trembled. Streets cracked. Storefronts shattered. Power lines snapped and swayed. Inside the cruiser, Blaine threw himself over Eclipsa and Lass, shielding them as the vehicle bucked and trembled violently. “Hold on!” he shouted.

Giovanni braced himself as the plane rattled violently, the shockwave from the explosion reaching even this high above. Outside the window, a dome of golden fire spread across the land, tendrils of smoke coiling upward like claws tearing at the sky. The edges of Gloire City—the farms, outskirts, and hills—were gone, scorched into oblivion. Giovanni narrowed his eyes at the sight, frowning slightly. The city center had survived thanks to the interference of the Legendaries, but even that was fractured—glass shattered, power lines down, and buildings cracked. He muttered coldly, “It’ll do.”

Below, Latias and Latios plummeted from the sky, their forms slamming into the earth with dull thuds. Their energy was spent, the dome of protection dissolving into light and leaving the city exposed once more.

Inside the cruiser, Blaine groaned, blinking through blood and shards of glass embedded in his back. His coat was torn, his body trembling. Eclipsa stirred beside him, bruised and shaking. She looked over at him, whispering through a dry throat, “Thank you.”

Blaine gave a weak nod, biting back the pain as he shifted to sit up. Smoke hung in the air, distant sirens blaring now in the ruined silence. The three of them watched in stunned silence as a black helicopter loomed over the crater. Its rotors cut through the air like razors, sending dust and debris swirling below. Then a mechanical claw extended, descending carefully into the massive impact crater where a single figure remained—Max. His body was barely recognizable—charred, cracked, and steaming, blood mixing with soot and ash. He didn’t struggle. He couldn’t. His eyes fluttered open, just long enough to see the claw wrap around his midsection. As he was slowly lifted into the air, he saw the burning ruins of the field… the fleeing crowds… the still bodies of Latias and Latios in the distance… Max’s eyes rolled back.He passed out, limp in the metal grip of Rocket’s machine, as the helicopter rose higher and disappeared into the smoke-choked clouds.

———————————————————

Weeks later…

————————————————————

Max stirred in his sleep, his chest rising and falling with shallow, panicked breaths. A sudden, searing pain tore across his wing, jolting him awake with a strangled cry. He tried to thrash—but his limbs were bound. A scientist, calm and indifferent, was burning through his old tattoo. The sting of the laser echoed through his nerves. As the old mark vanished, a new one formed in its place: “Tsar 1”

“Welcome to your new life,” said the woman in the red dress, stepping into the room with that same cold smile.

Max snarled, trying to lunge at her, but the restraints dug deeper, pinning him in place. His voice trembled, hoarse. “What happened?”

“You exploded,” she said. “Not as effectively as we hoped—but you did manage to kill over three hundred humans, and around five hundred Pokémon.”

Max’s breath caught in his throat. The world spun. He felt sick.

She continued with a smile, “You've been unconscious for weeks. Hopefully, next time, you’ll come back to us sooner.”

“Next… time?” Max’s voice cracked.

“Oh, Max.” Her smile deepened. “You didn’t really think we’d use you just once, did you?” She leaned in closer, her voice low. “That’s why we put Dialga inside you.”

Max’s body slumped, a numb cold overtaking his limbs. She turned and walked away as the scientist finished his work, wiped down the tools, and left the room in silence. The restraints clicked and released. Max collapsed to his knees. He stared into the mirror on the far wall. His reflection was broken, like him. The fresh scar above his heart pulsed red. The new brand on his wing—Tsar 1—glared back at him like a label on a product. Eight hundred lives. Gone. Because of him. Tears welled in his eyes and began to fall freely. His claws trembled. His breath hitched. And finally—He roared. Not in fury. Not in defiance. But the raw, wounded cry of an animal caught in a trap—a soul fractured, screaming for a freedom that may never come.

Giovanni watched the monitor silently, Max’s cries echoing from the screen. Without a word, he turned and sat in front of a new camera. The lens focused on him and the screen. He pressed a button and began to speak.

————————————————————

Meanwhile, Eclipsa was led down a quiet hallway, her heart pounding with both fear and anticipation. When the door opened, she was greeted by familiar faces—Francisco, Goodra, and Servine—waiting in a small recovery room. The moment their eyes met, they rushed into a group hug, Goodra’s slime smearing over all of them, but no one cared.

“I missed you guys so much,” Eclipsa said, her voice catching.

“Me too,” Francisco replied, holding on tightly. “We didn’t know if we’d see you again.”

A knock at the door turned their attention. Ash and Pikachu entered, followed by a man Eclipsa didn’t recognize. She eyed him suspiciously. “Who’s he?”

The man stepped forward, offering a faint smile. “I’m Oscar. Oscar Lizardon.”

Francisco added gently, “He told me about how he lost his Charmander as a kid… they found him alive outside a hospital.”

Eclipsa’s expression softened slightly, but before she could respond, Ash spoke. “Giovanni just sent a message directly to Mr. Goodshow. It’s a video. He says that if we don’t meet his demands…” Ash hesitated, his voice darkening, “he’ll use Max again.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened. “So what are we going to do?”

Eclipsa looked around the room. “Where are the other Charizards? Specifically Velvet?”

A calm, telepathic voice echoed through the room. Mewtwo appeared in a flicker of psychic energy. “They’re being prepped… for surgery,” Mewtwo said.

Eclipsa’s eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. “So… it worked?”

Mewtwo nodded. “Yes. It worked.”

————————————————————

In the Habitat… The doors opened and Sky stepped inside, walking slowly. Her skin was pale due to lack of blood, her eyes were tired—but she was walking. The other Charizards surged forward to hug her in relief and celebration. Across the room, Velvet watched quietly. Sky caught her gaze and gave a faint nod of relief. Velvet nodded back. Then she turned, following Professor Oak toward the surgery wing—her steps steady, her mind focused. Once she frees herself from Dialga and Groudon, she's gonna save Max.