Pokemon Dark Tidings.

Lance stood rigidly, his tall frame tense as he spoke in low tones with Agatha and Rollo, the Pokemon Ranger in charge of the area. The dim light of the afternoon was fading, casting shadows over the trees around the hidden Rocket base. The vault door that had been blown open, now lay in ruins. League personnel moving in and out, removing bodies.

Lance's eyes drifted toward Ezra, who sat some distance away, his posture stiff and weary as Karen continued to badger him, with clear worry behind the severe words. Several League trainers hovered around them, not entirely sure whether to treat Ezra as a hero or a threat.

To be honest, Lance wasn't so sure about the distinction either.

"This is a whole mess," Lance grumbled, running a hand through his thick hair, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

Agatha scoffed, leaning on her cane with a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. The old woman's sharp features seemed to glow with a perverse amusement as she surveyed the scene before them. "Seems to me all our problems are solved. There was a Team Rocket base here," She gestured lazily toward the blown-apart door, "And now there isn't."

Lance shot her a tired look. He'd never grow used to Agatha's flippant attitude, but today, it grated on his nerves more than usual. "You know what I mean, Agatha. We can't get actionable intel from corpses," He said, rubbing his temples as if to stave off an oncoming headache. "And that's not even mentioning the issue of how this happened."

Rollo, shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't a man of many words, but even he felt the tension in the air. His uniform was worn and stained with blood and dirt, having been one of the first men to assist in clearing out the bunker, his hard-lined face grim from what they had uncovered inside the base. "Sir, it is by all rights legal to defend yourself from terrorists, even up to lethal means," He reminded the Champion, his voice steady but with a flicker of something guarded behind his eyes.

Lance shot Rollo a quick glance, his brows furrowed. "You're not even the slightest bit curious how a young lad, who didn't have his Pokemon, managed to kill an entire base of terrorists?" He sighed, the sound heavy and frustrated. His hands dropped to his sides, fingers flexing in a gesture of restrained exasperation. "Not to mention the issue of killing so many people while still managing to remain composed enough to only capture their Pokemon. Scenes like these belong in a war, not in times of peace."

Agatha let out a short, mocking laugh. "You people would all know about scenes of massacres, wouldn't you?" She bit out, her voice dripping with venom. Her eyes, once distant, locked onto Lance with an intensity that made even the Champion falter for a moment.

But only for a moment. He was the Champion now, and he wouldn't allow anyone to treat him like anything but.

Lance's gaze snapped to hers, his stance straightening as his temper flared. "I don't want to hear that from the Mistress of Madness," He spat back, his voice taut with restrained anger.

War had almost ruined both regions, but there were few names which had been as feared in Johto as the Mistress of Madness. Even now, as nominal allies, Lance still had his Dragonite out.

Agatha cackled, her lips curling into a devious expression. She loved pushing his buttons, and today he was far too easy to provoke, she thought. That didn't mean she'd let anything he said go however…"Oh, you want to talk about madness, sir?" She hissed, her cane stabbing into the ground with every venomous word, the sarcastic inflection on 'sir' twisting the title into something contemptuous.

Rollo shifted uneasily between them, his eyes darting back and forth as if he was caught in the crossfire. He was not accustomed to standing in the middle of such volatile exchanges between League elites. His gaze shifted toward the base, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his rugged features. He cleared his throat, but any words he might have said were swallowed by the animosity that crackled between the Champion and the Elite Four member.

Agatha's finger stabbed through the air, pointing toward the base's smoldering ruins. "Madness is turning that against us," She sneered, her cold eyes flashing. The shadowy remnants of the fallen Rockets and the atrocities they had committed lingered in the air, thick and oppressive, as well as the power necessary to end them all.

Lance frowned, his face softening ever so slightly, though his stance remained firm. "I am aware you have an interest in the young lad, but that doesn't make any of this less of an issue. If anything, Agatha, it worries me more."

Agatha barely could be bothered to show up for any fights, including actual Elite Four challenges, nor did she show up for many of the events, so anyone she showed an interest in… Was a potential problem.

If Agatha was excited, Lance knew to be worried. The last thing the world needed was another Agatha.

Rollo, standing beside them, grimaced, his weathered face contorted in a mix of concern and caution. "Sir," He interjected again, his voice low and firm, "By law, he's allowed to defend himself." His tone carried the weight of the law behind it, though the words felt hollow given the bloodbath they had walked into.

With the Ranger found dead inside the base and taking in account his and his team's state… Rollo wasn't about to let anything sneaky by him - in regards to the young man who'd extracted revenge for the Rangers.

Lance shot him a pointed look. "I know, Chief Ranger." His voice softened slightly, but the tension in his posture remained. "But are you not curious, even in the slightest, about how he did it? How a young man, who should be just like any other trainer, managed to tear through a base filled with Rocket grunts? There's more here than just legalities. This is unnatural."

Agatha tossed her head, her silver hair catching the fading light in a way that made her seem even more witchlike, more formidable. "Is the League in the business of requiring trainers to reveal all their secrets now? Do the clans agree to that? Does the Blackthorn clan agree to that? Am I allowed to inquire about their secrets?" Her voice was scathing, her challenge clear.

Lance's face grew stony. "That's not what I'm saying, Agatha." His words were slow and measured, his control slipping, but not yet lost. Damnable woman!

"Good," Agatha replied, her smile sharp and unpleasant, like a knife's edge. "So we're agreed, then. The lad cannot be forced to give up his secrets." She turned her head slightly, eyeing Ezra in the distance. The boy was still sitting there, blood-soaked and pale, the scene around him surreal.

What had Lance been expecting to do? Drag him in chains to Indigo Plateau? Force him into a corner and demand answers? If anyone was going to pry open Ezra Kassian's secrets, it would be her. Not Lance. Not the League. And she would never let them lock him up like a lab experiment.

He'd only grow if he was free. How would he ever be a challenge one day, if he was locked up? Now if only she could also get him to accept her tutelage…

Lance looked at her with something like resignation, but it was tinged with a deep sense of duty. "We still need to question him," He stated, crossing his arms over his chest. The words were final, though weariness edged into his voice.

Being Champion was nothing like he'd imagined. Half the League practically hated his guts on sight, simply as a byproduct of his nationality and clan. It still somehow all worked, but it didn't make it pleasant.

Agatha cocked her head, her gaze shifting lazily to the side. Lance reluctantly followed her line of sight, and his eyes fell on the young girl they had recovered from the base. She sat huddled against the side of a tree, wrapped in a League jacket and blankets, trembling. Her eyes were wide, her face pale with shock, but she was alive.

The League had written her off as dead weeks ago. A mistake, one that would have consequences in Goldenrod City going forward…

"You take that young man in," Agatha drawled, her voice smooth but laden with warning, "and you'll have a rebellion on your hands, Champion." She spat the word 'Champion' with disgust. "That's Gym Leader Whitney's sister as you're well aware. And if even half of what I imagine happened to her is true, Whitney will rip you apart herself if you push too hard on the one who saved her. And she won't be alone. Pryce, Morty, and the rest of them will back her. Don't think you can press this."

Lance knew she wasn't entirely wrong. Clair of course would back him, perhaps one or two of the others as well… Never mind that Pryce had still been in charge when the girl had been taken… He would be the one with egg on his face.

Lance's shoulders sagged slightly, though he remained resolute that they needed some answers. "He still needs to be questioned." His words were firm, but his weariness was more apparent now. "Agatha… I know there are differences between Kanto and Johto, but we don't need this antagonism between us."

Rollo looked as though he would rather disappear into the underbrush, his face a mask of discomfort as he stood between the two most powerful trainers in the region. His loyalty was to the law, but he could feel the shifting tides of politics tugging at his duty.

Agatha chuckled, her laughter dry and humorless. "Then question him right here, right now. Not in League custody, not dragged back to Indigo Plateau for all your bureaucratic nonsense. Here. Now. With me present to ensure you don't overstep your bounds." Her eyes gleamed, cold and dangerous. "And, Champion…" She let the title hang in the air, dripping with disdain. "I'll end my antagonism toward you and yours on one simple condition…"

Lance raised an eyebrow, bracing himself. "And what's that?" He asked warily, though the exhaustion in his voice was growing, like a man who knew what was coming, and could only brace for it.

Agatha's smile widened, cruel and gleeful, her words sharp as she whispered, "Bring back my daughter. Reverse time, and stop the massacre of Viridian."

Lance sighed, the weight of the past pressing down on him like an iron mantle. "I was a boy back then, Agatha. This scorn serves no purpose. I had no hand in that war."

If he had, he wouldn't have done something so foolish, the only thing killing so many non-combatants had done - was to inflame the war for another year, for no purpose other than more death and destruction. Kanto had been on the brink of surrender already, the massacre had only extended the unnecessary war.

If Lance could say it without political fallout, he'd admit that the Blackthorns' part in the massacre was the greatest blemish on the clan's history. Killing women and children in dragonfire served no one. But he couldn't say so, so they were at an impasse.

Agatha's eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a low, deadly murmur. "Oh, you're not a Blackthorn then?" She asked coldly, her gaze boring into him like a sharpened blade.

And trust her to go straight for that jugular, he thought tiredly.

For a moment, there were no words. Only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the distant cries of Pokemon. Lance said nothing more, his shoulders drooping as the weight of her words settled over him like a suffocating blanket. He sighed again, nodding slowly, the fight draining from him as he turned toward Ezra.

Without another word, he began to walk toward the boy, Agatha and Rollo following.

Ezra sat on a moss-covered log, slouched and exhausted. His belt, now once again filled with his Pokeballs, hung loosely at his waist. His body ached in ways he hadn't felt in a long time - not since his previous life, back when every day had been a battle just to survive. He almost smiled at the irony of it. He'd come to this world with extraordinary power, yet here he was, sore and beaten down, bone weary after pushing himself too far, too fast.

With the ache and pain he was in, he had a feeling that if he'd gone too much longer, he might have actually succeeded in killing himself. He needed to be careful going forward, it was too easy to lose himself if he let hate and anger dictate his actions.

If he was going to murderblender a Rocket base in the future, it would be because he came to that decision himself, sound of mind. Not a knee jerk reaction to seeing atrocities.

And he'd definitely not let loose like that! Now he was in a bit of a pickle…

At least Cecile had been smart enough to remove his Rocket gear, and had been let out as just another victim of kidnapping. Now Ezra just had to figure out how to get himself out of trouble. Not for the deaths, he was fairly sure he was legally covered, but how to explain the way they all died…

Karen, however, didn't seem to care about his physical state or mental state at the moment. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, her face flushed with anger and exertion. "How could you be so damn stupid!? Don't ever throw away your Pokemon like that again!" Her voice rang out, sharp enough to draw the attention of the League trainers stationed around them, though they all pretended not to listen.

Ezra chuckled, though it was a tired, strained sound. "Ah, wouldn't you have been captured if I hadn't?" He shot back, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. "Or, I don't know... Broken a few limbs without Pidgeot swooping in?"

Honestly, where was the appreciation? It wasn't often Ezra was a gentleman like that. It might be twenty more years until next time. She should savor it when it happens.

Karen scowled, stomping her foot into the dirt, her silver hair flying around her face as she huffed. "I don't care! Don't EVER throw your own life away for me, I can handle myself, you idiot!" Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her fury unabated.

Ah, that's what it's about…

Ezra smirked, though it was weak, the kind of smile that comes when you're too tired to really engage in the conversation. "It's cute that you care so much," He teased, his voice low and worn out.

But he was never too tired to bully Karen.

Karen's eyes narrowed dangerously, her face going blank for a moment. She stepped forward and jabbed him hard in the shoulder with a finger. The force, though not strong enough to hurt, was enough to knock Ezra off balance. He toppled off the log and landed on the ground with a heavy "Oof."

"Die," Karen said with feeling, glaring down at him as he groaned from the ground.

"~Cute," Ezra fired back from where he lay, though the smirk on his face was still visible even as he closed his eyes, half-hoping the soft moss beneath him would ease the ache in his bones. Could he just sleep now? And avoid the headache the League would be?

Karen huffed, her face growing redder with every second. "I swear to Arceus, Ezra... Call me cute one more time!" She threatened, rolling up the sleeves of her jacket like she was ready to square up with him.

Ezra just chuckled, his laughter quiet and breathy, not even attempting to sit up from where he had landed.

One of the female League trainers nearby, who had been watching the whole scene with barely concealed amusement, shook her head and quipped, "Kids and their flirting nowadays." She exchanged a knowing look with her colleague, the humor evident in her eyes.

Karen's glare shot over to the two trainers, her expression livid. "You losers!" She yelled, jabbing a finger in their direction. "He's still covered in blood! Why are you just standing there? Get some towels or something! Do something productive for once!"

The trainer who had spoken first just snorted, unfazed by Karen's outburst. "Girl, you just pushed him over and now you want to coddle him? He's definitely right; you're too cute."

Ezra started chuckling again, the sound rumbling from his chest even as he remained sprawled on the ground. His laughter only seemed to fuel Karen's frustration, her face growing progressively redder with each passing second.

"I am not cute!" Karen practically shrieked, her voice breaking just slightly as her fists clenched tighter. She was about to storm over and give Ezra another shove when a voice cut through the playful chaos.

"Am I interrupting something?" Lance's voice was calm, polite even, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he approached, Agatha and Rollo in tow. The League Champion smiled at Karen, his usual cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. "We'd like a few words with the young man," He said, tilting his head toward Ezra, who was still lying on the ground. Lance's smile widened slightly. "If it's alright with his cute girlfriend, of course."

Ezra's chuckling intensified at that, his body shaking with tired laughter as he lay there. Karen's face, already flushed, turned an even deeper shade of red as she turned away, muttering under her breath. "Even the Champion is teasing me now..." She was visibly embarrassed, clearly on the verge of either exploding or storming off in a huff.

Lance's smile softened, but he didn't comment further. Agatha, on the other hand, had a knowing smirk on her face, her old, sharp eyes gleaming with something that could almost be described as amusement. She tapped her cane on the ground, a quiet chuckle escaping her.

"I would like to ask you a few things, if you're up for it." Lance reiterated, seriously.

Ezra's smile faded slightly as he straightened up, pulling himself back onto the log, the weight of the day's events settling back onto his shoulders. He glanced at Karen, who was still fuming but had taken a step back to let him speak. The League trainers around them shifted, their relaxed postures turning a bit more serious as they subtly positioned themselves closer.

Agatha and Rollo stood behind Lance, watching with interest. Rollo's expression was neutral, though there was a trace of curiosity in his eyes as he sized up Ezra. Agatha, however, was harder to read. She leaned on her cane, her face impassive, but her sharp gaze never left Ezra. There was something in her eyes - an intensity that hadn't been there before.

He'd seen that kind of hungry look on teen girls before… Which made it very disturbing to see it on Agatha's face. At least it couldn't be for the same reason… Right?

Ezra nodded eventually, his voice quieter now. "I figured there'd be questions." He glanced down at his blood-stained clothes, then at the trainers still loosely surrounding him. "Though I don't suppose this is a friendly conversation?"

Lance's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Friendly enough," He said, though there was a weight behind his words. "We just need to know what happened in there… What really happened."

Ezra shrugged. "You saw the base. It wasn't pretty." His eyes darkened as memories of the lab flashed in his mind. "But I did what I had to do. No more, no less."

Rollo stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the tension. "You saved people," He said, his tone steady. "That much is clear. But the how is what we're trying to wrap our heads around. We are grateful for what you've done, I especially thank you for allowing Ranger Joseph's spirit to get rest, and to be allowed to be laid into the earth by his brothers and sisters."

Ezra's red eyes met Rollo's, and for a moment, there was silence between them. The exhaustion Ezra felt was more than just physical. It was a bone-deep weariness that came not only from his power, but from the knowledge of what he had done - what he had let loose.

"That's something I'd rather not get into," Ezra finally said, his voice low. "Not now, anyway."

Lance exchanged a look with Agatha, then turned back to Ezra. "We don't need every detail right now. But there are things we need to know. Not for our sake, but for yours." His voice was calm but firm. "The League will want answers. I'll try to protect you from any consequences, but... You'll have to meet me halfway."

Ezra sat in silence for a moment, his mind racing as Lance's words hung in the air. He couldn't tell them the truth - not about his powers, not about the things he'd done inside that Rocket base. The League didn't need to know just how much he was capable of. But Lance's gaze was unrelenting, and Rollo wasn't any easier to deal with, his steady, neutral expression practically begging for details. And then there was Agatha, sharp and silent, studying him with an intensity that felt almost predatory.

Ezra's breath hitched as he weighed his options, trying to find the right lie, one believable enough to pass but still vague enough to keep him out of too much trouble.

He shifted slightly on the log, glancing down at the blood still caked on his clothes. "You want answers," He murmured, his voice low, calculated. "I get it. But what happened in there... It's not something that should really be spoken about." He acted hesitant, dragging his words to give the impression that he wasn't ready to share. It was better this way. A lie would be more believable if they had to drag it out of him.

If he just spilled his guts, they'd be more likely to pick apart what he said, then if they had to coax him to reluctantly release the information.

Lance wasn't going to let it go that easily. "The League needs to know," He pressed, his voice firm but not harsh. "We need to understand what we're dealing with. This was an entire Rocket base, and you somehow walked out of there with nothing but a few bruises. That's not... Typical."

Ezra scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he stared Lance down. "Am I under arrest, Champion?" His tone was flat, almost challenging, and he watched with satisfaction as Lance paused, the weight of the accusation settling over him.

There was a long, tense silence. Agatha coughed lightly, her eyes glinting with cold amusement, clearly enjoying the standoff. Lance let out a slow breath, his face stony, before he finally spoke.

"No," Lance admitted after a long pause. "You're not under arrest. But this is a matter of national security. As a citizen, you can understand why we're concerned about this situation."

Just a little longer, make them work for it, he thought.

Ezra snorted, lifting an eyebrow in mock surprise. "National security, huh? I'm from Kanto, not Johto," He said blithely, watching with amusement as Agatha let out a sharp, approving laugh. Lance, on the other hand, twitched slightly, visibly holding back his irritation.

"The League encompasses both regions," Lance said, his voice tight with barely contained frustration. "That still makes you a citizen. Won't you assist us in this matter?" His tone softened as he straightened up, trying another tactic. "I'm asking you, as the Champion of the Pokemon League, to be forthright."

Ezra sighed, slumping his shoulders in an exaggerated show of reluctance. "Fine..." He muttered, lowering his gaze as if resigning himself to the pressure. "If it didn't want to be known, it wouldn't have gotten involved." He kept his voice low, serious, crafting the perfect lie.

Lance and Rollo perked up immediately, their attention razor-sharp. Agatha, however, stroked her chin thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing as she watched him, clearly trying to figure out if he was playing them. Ezra maintained his cool, careful not to show any cracks in his story.

"It?" Lance asked, his voice slow, cautious. "Am I to understand a Pokemon helped you?"

Ezra nodded, keeping his expression deliberately neutral. "I broke out and fought off a few Rockets, found the girl," He gestured towards the traumatized girl, who was being looked after by medical staff, wrapped in blankets, "And then reinforcements started pouring in. I was getting overwhelmed... That's when it showed up." He paused, letting his words hang in the air, spinning his tale like a master storyteller.

He was creating a story they'd want to believe. Because a guy doing all that by himself, with no Pokemon? That was out there, but a Pokemon doing it, maybe not so outlandish…

The image of Darkrai formed in his mind, though he wouldn't say the name. He wanted them to imagine it themselves, let their own knowledge fill in the gaps, especially in case none of them even knew of Darkrai, he couldn't show himself as too knowledgeable. "The room went cold," He began slowly, his voice dropping as he described the scene. "Shadows crept along the walls, deeper than anything I've ever seen. And then... Out of those shadows, it came. Like a wraith, it moved through the darkness, silent but powerful. Its form... It hovered in the air, almost like a black skirt all that held up its lower half, glowing emerald eyes looked me over, and it had a pale, almost smoke like in appearance 'hair' on top of its head, a red bulky something around its neck… It's what handled the rest of the Rockets…"

He could see the effect his words were having. Lance's eyes flickered with recognition, and Rollo's expression darkened as he shifted uneasily. Agatha, however, only looked more intrigued, her gaze locking onto him like she could smell bullshit.

Ezra hoped she wouldn't call him out if that's what she believed. He'd chosen a Sinnoh Legendary/Mythic Pokemon, because to the Johto native Lance, the fact other regions legendaries might be roaming Johto would take precedence in his mind over Ezra. Also because Agatha might believe him, because it's a dark type, so it would technically fit what she believed of him.

"It didn't attack me," Ezra continued, after letting them ruminate on his reveal for a minute, his voice steady. "It went after the Rockets, cutting through them like they weren't even there. Every time one of them tried to fight back, it was like... Like their moves didn't matter. They couldn't touch it."

"We are... Aware of that Pokemon," Lance said slowly, his face tightening with caution. "Though it doesn't usually appear in Johto." His voice trailed off, clearly thinking through the implications.

Rollo nodded thoughtfully. "It would explain some of the… Damage," He murmured. "The grunts had a lot of wounds that we couldn't quite categorize, given the typical battle patterns from a human angle."

Lance hummed in agreement. "I suppose that would explain things..." He muttered, but then his eyes narrowed as a thought crossed his mind. "But why... Did the apparent leader appear to have been tortured?" His tone sharpened, and he gave Ezra a hard, questioning look. Agatha, too, leaned in, her interest palpable.

Ezra hesitated for effect, then looked away, pretending to be sheepish. "Ah... I asked him a few questions, and when he refused to answer..." He trailed off, deliberately leaving the sentence unfinished, letting their imaginations fill in the blanks.

Sure, the big bad legendary decided to do a spot of torture, not him, no siree, innocent boy here, look no further.

Rollo's eyes widened, and he leaned in, suddenly more alert. "And what did he tell you?" He asked urgently. "Any locations of other bases, names of their leadership, future plans?"

The Pokemon Rangers didn't really have a hat in this game normally, but it was personal now.

Ezra licked his lips, feigning reluctance as his gaze flickered between the three of them. "The only thing he kept... Screaming," Ezra's voice lowered, "Was that Giovanni was his boss and that he'd reward me if I let him go."

The clearing fell silent, the weight of that name sinking into the air like a stone dropped into still water. Even the nearby League trainers seemed to tense up, overhearing the bombshell Ezra had just dropped.

Karen, who had been standing nearby, muttered under her breath, "What the fuck?"

Agatha was suddenly in front of Ezra, her bony fingers gripping his chin with surprising strength. Her eyes burned with a fierce intensity as she hissed, "Do not lie to me, Kassian! Giovanni is a patriot! He fought harder than anyone during the last war and lost more than any dozen others you'd care to name. He'd NEVER do this!"

Lance quickly stepped forward, pulling Agatha back with a warning look, though his own expression was clouded with concern. "Are you sure that's the name he said?" He asked Ezra, ignoring Agatha's scornful snort.

Ezra watched Agatha warily, taken aback by her fierce defense of Giovanni. He hadn't expected that reaction. But he quickly turned back to Lance, giving him a firm nod. "Yes. I'm sure," He said tightly, trying to keep his voice steady.

He'd decided it wouldn't hurt to drop Giovanni's name, but by Agatha's reaction, perhaps he'd been hasty…

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose, his face twisting in frustration. "This conversation is now classified at the highest levels," He said, his voice loud enough for the nearby League trainers to hear. "Anyone who so much as breathes a word of this to anyone else will pay to the fullest extent of the law."

The trainers immediately snapped to attention, saluting. "Yes, sir!" They chorused, their faces serious and tense.

Agatha shook her head, her voice firm and unyielding. "It's not Giovanni. It can't be. He's not that kind of man."

Lance sighed, his gaze softening. "I agree it's unlikely. Maybe the local leader was trying to throw someone under the Snorlax, some petty revenge before the end." He looked around, his voice still commanding. "But we can't allow word of this to spread. It's either defamation, in which case it would cause unnecessary harm to a respected Gym Leader... Or it's true, and we can't let him know we're onto him."

Agatha scoffed, crossing her arms, but Lance shot her a pointed look. "Agatha, he can't know about this. I have to investigate." He hesitated for a moment, before powering on, "I know you have…Ties.. But I need your promise on this."

Agatha's lips tightened into a thin line. "You expect me to lie to a trusted comrade?" She spat, her voice dripping with disdain.

Lance raised an eyebrow, his tone unyielding. "Yes, I do. You're still an Elite Four member, sworn to the Pokémon League, aren't you?"

Agatha huffed, but after a tense moment, she gave a stiff nod. "Fine. For now."

Lance turned back to Ezra. "Ignore everything you just heard," He said firmly. "And keep what you saw quiet. This is a League matter now." He paused, giving Ezra a small, kind smile. "But don't worry. Giovanni is not that kind of man. It's likely a lie, but either way, your part in this is done."

Ezra nodded slowly, suppressing his irritation at how easily Lance and the others had dismissed Giovanni as a culprit without any real thought. Ezra had expected some resistance to the idea, but he hadn't counted on Agatha's fierce defense of the man. It was a valuable insight - clearly, Giovanni had a stronger hold on Kanto's elite than Ezra had anticipated. He would need to keep that in mind for the future. Still, it worked to his advantage. They'd completely dropped any other life of questioning, focusing on the bomb he'd dropped.

Lance cleared his throat, bringing the conversation back to the present. "Now," He said, his tone businesslike, "We still have to ensure that the Rocket threat is fully contained. But your involvement is concluded, Kassian. You've done your part, and from here on, it's up to the League."

Ezra inclined his head, as if in agreement, though his thoughts were far from settled. He didn't like the idea of letting the League sweep everything under the rug without further investigation, especially not with Giovanni's name thrown into the mix. But Lance's tone made it clear that, for now, the League considered the matter closed.

"Anywhere we can drop you off when we leave?" Lance asked, his voice softening a bit as he tried to offer some courtesy. "I don't want to leave you out here in the wilderness, not with everything that's just happened."

Ezra hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. He could continue on his journey without League interference if he played this right. But then an idea came to him, a way to leverage the situation to his advantage.

"Goldenrod," Ezra said, his voice firm. He didn't look at the girl he'd saved, but her presence lingered in his mind. Now that he knew she was Whitney's sister, the idea of heading to Goldenrod seemed even more appealing. He had helped save her, and that alone could give him a powerful connection to Whitney, the Gym Leader. Ezra wasn't one to let opportunities slip through his fingers. Having Whitney - or at least her gratitude - in his pocket would be a boon.

Lance gave a nod of approval. "Goldenrod it is, then. We'll arrange transport." He paused, his eyes meeting Ezra's one last time, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. "And remember, everything you've heard and seen here today is classified. Don't discuss this with anyone. Understood?"

"Understood," Ezra replied, giving a nod that was far more obedient than he actually felt. Inside, he was already thinking about his next moves. The League could believe whatever they wanted about Darkrai or Giovanni. He had no intention of correcting them now. In fact, the more they underestimated him, the better.

It was annoying he couldn't have Giovanni stopped this simply, but if it drew attention away from him, then either way it was still a win right at this moment.

As the League trainers began to pack up their gear, preparing to leave the forest, Ezra cast a glance toward Whitney's sister. She was still wrapped in blankets, her face pale but her eyes flickering with awareness. Ezra didn't know what all she'd been through in that Rocket base, but he could guess it had been horrifying. She was a part of his story now, a card he could play if the need arose. And by heading to Goldenrod, he could ensure that his connection to her - and, by extension, to Whitney - stayed strong.

Having a Gym Leader in his pocket would be a valuable advantage as he continued his quest to establish his own power base.

As the League trainers finished their preparations, Ezra stood, feeling the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on him. His body ached, his powers had been pushed to their limit, and yet he couldn't help but feel a grim sense of satisfaction. He had survived the Rocket base. He had manipulated the League into buying his story. And now, he was heading toward an opportunity that could set him up for greater things.

It was pure luck, but he'd take anything he could get.

The next day, Viridian City, Kanto.

Agatha made her way through the upscale restaurant with her usual briskness, her cane tapping sharply against the polished marble floor. The grand chandelier above cast a warm, golden light over the lavish dining hall, glinting off the delicate crystal glasses and fine china laid out on the tables. Waiters dressed in immaculate black suits moved with practiced grace, attending to the well-heeled patrons who whispered in hushed tones, sharing intimate conversations over expensive meals. The aroma of seared meats, fragrant wines, and freshly baked bread filled the air, but Agatha hardly noticed. This wasn't her scene.

The maitron'd, a man trying too hard to look formal in his freshly pressed uniform, approached her, but Agatha waved him off with a sharp, "I know where I'm going, brat," Not bothering to even glance his way. She made her way toward the back of the restaurant, moving with the confidence of someone who had been here more than once but still loathed every visit.

Too many memories…

How the man could stand it, she didn't know. Perhaps he was just stronger than her…

Her scowl deepened as she passed by a snoozing Meowth lounging in the hallway, its sly eyes cracking open as she approached. When the creature leaped forward, one paw darting toward her pocket, she brought her cane down with a sharp whack on its head. The Meowth recoiled, rubbing its head with a pitiful mewl. "Really, your Pokemon are still as cheeky as ever…" She muttered under her breath, irritated. Giovanni always did have a knack for raising ill-mannered creatures.

She pushed open the door to the private dining room without knocking, stepping inside with the same uninvited authority she had in every part of her life. The room was bathed in soft, ambient light, the walls paneled in rich mahogany with paintings of Viridian landscapes hanging on the walls. A long table made from dark oak dominated the room, its surface gleaming under the dim light of a few candles.

Sitting at the head of the table was Giovanni, dressed impeccably in a tailored charcoal suit, every line crisp and perfect. His dark hair, peppered slightly with silver, was slicked back with a meticulous neatness that reflected his personality - a man always in control. He nursed a glass of scotch in his hand, his face calm, composed, the picture of someone who never seemed ruffled. By his side, perched regally, was his Persian. The sleek white-furred feline lay with its paws tucked neatly beneath it, its red gem glinting ominously in the candlelight. Persian's eyes glowed with an unnerving hunger as it tracked Agatha's entrance, its tail flicking back and forth with languid menace.

Agatha took her seat across from Giovanni, her face set in its usual scowl. She didn't need to be invited. The history between them - though marked with disdain - made the formalities useless.

Giovanni was the first to break the silence, his smooth voice filling the room. "It's not like you to call a meeting, Agatha." He sipped his scotch slowly, watching her with those calculating eyes of his, always measuring, always assessing.

Agatha huffed, her hand tightening around the knob of her cane. "Having to see your mug again isn't my idea of enjoyment either." She shifted in her seat, her eyes flicking to the Persian, watching the predator's movements with the caution of someone who knew exactly how dangerous it was. She still remembered the day she saw it rip a Rhyhorn to shreds with a casual flick of its claws.

Giovanni's lips twitched into a faint smile, but it was devoid of warmth. He waited, as he always did, attempting to assert dominance through silence, to make her speak first. But Agatha had known Giovanni long enough to be immune to his games. She stared back, her expression unreadable, and let the silence stretch.

When Giovanni realized Agatha wasn't going to play along, he gave in, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "So, what's this about?" His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, a hint of wariness beneath the polished exterior.

Agatha leaned forward, her fingers drumming impatiently on the head of her cane. "Lance is going to investigate you." She watched his reaction carefully, noting the slight tightening of his jaw. "I'm only telling you because I think it's ridiculous and I know you're not that stupid." She snorted, her voice filled with a bitter amusement. "Well, that and to spite the damn Johtan brat."

"How unlike you," Giovanni drawled sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Agatha shot him a scathing look. "If I last another two years amongst the Elite Four before that brat forces me to retire, I'd be surprised. Fuck him and his holier-than-thou attitude." She spat the words like venom, her hands tightening around her cane as though imagining it was Lance's neck.

Giovanni's expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Verbose for you. He must have really gotten under your skin."

Agatha's lip twitched in irritation. "He keeps acting like the wars never happened. Like there wasn't bloodshed, sacrifices... It's a disgrace to their memories." Her voice lowered, thick with contempt.

At that, Giovanni's expression darkened, his eyes hardening as he swirled his drink in thought. "Indeed... And to think I believed we'd be better off without Pryce." His grip tightened around the glass, betraying the controlled fury simmering beneath the surface. He shook his head slowly, as if dispelling the old memories.

Agatha relaxed slightly, leaning back in her chair. Her Gengar appeared from the shadows, floating up behind her, its long claws clutching a bottle of scotch, 'borrowed' from Giovanni's liquor cabinet. Without being told, it poured her a generous drink, filling the glass with a smooth amber liquid. She took it without a word, nodding in silent gratitude before raising it to her lips.

"You haven't even asked what he's investigating you for," She muttered, shooting him a shrewd look. "Don't tell me you know already?"

Giovanni scratched behind Persian's ears, his face serene once more. "I don't really care, my dear. The war is over. I just run my business and my Gym and stay as far away from Indigo as I can get away with." His tone was dismissive, but Agatha could see the spark of intrigue in his eyes.

"Hmph, at least they won't find anything then," Agatha muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. "If you're still running a smuggling ring, keep it quiet for a few months…"

Giovanni flashed her a dark grin, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Why, Agatha, I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

She harrumphed loudly, her eyes narrowing. "I know you're no Jigglypuff, Gio. I've never cared before because it was harmless. But don't give that Johto brat an excuse to stick his nose in your business."

Giovanni's smile faded, his eyes sharpening. "Don't call me that," He said darkly, his voice holding an edge of warning.

Agatha sighed, her tone softening ever so slightly. "Force of habit from listening to my girl go on about you… My mistake." It was as close to an apology as Giovanni would ever get from her. She took another sip of her drink, the tension between them easing into something more familiar.

For all her suspicion, she was certain of one thing - Giovanni wasn't part of Team Rocket. He might be capable of many things, and sure, he was involved in less-than-legal dealings, but he wouldn't betray Kanto like that. Not after everything they'd fought for. Team Rocket's presence in both Kanto and Johto made it impossible for her to believe Giovanni had any true ties to them.

He'd never stand for an organization that betrayed Kanto values. She could easily believe he'd fund something to tweak Johto's nose, but not Kanto. He was even more of a patriot then she'd been back when.

"I can't stay long," She said after a moment, breaking the silence as she swirled the drink in her hand.

Giovanni nodded slowly, his gaze drifting toward the window for a moment, as if lost in thought. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "Tell me again," He said, almost hesitantly. "The story where she let herself be defeated by a Magikarp for years in that pond of yours. Just to make it happy."

Agatha snorted into her drink, a flicker of melancholy passing over her face. "That fool girl..." She whispered, her voice soft and filled with an old sorrow, she gave her son-in-law a slow nod.

"Always a fool," Giovanni agreed, downing his drink in a single, bitter gulp.

Three days after arriving in Goldenrod City,

Ezra lay sprawled on the bed in his cramped room at the Goldenrod Pokemon Center, finally feeling somewhat like himself after days of forced recovery. His body had ached like never before, a bone-deep exhaustion that even the usual Pokemon Center treatment couldn't shake. His bed was surrounded by his team, all of them crowding the small space as if they refused to leave his side. Akuma, his Annihilape, sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, its wild, furious aura strangely calm. Morrigan, the Dreepy, floated lazily around the ceiling, occasionally weaving in and out of Cheshire, his mischievous Haunter, while Loki, the ever-sullen Banette, lurked near the shadows, watching over them all. Nyx, Alduin and Rider were all keeping watch around the bed, the three of them worried about his safety.

It had been days since the chaos at the Rocket base, and while Ezra's body was still recovering, his mind was mostly back to its sharp self. Karen, though, had taken full advantage of his weakened state, and her overbearing nature had been a mix of annoying and oddly comforting. She'd insisted on sticking close to him, even watching over him at night, much to her delight and his irritation. And yet, a part of him didn't mind the constant company - although he'd never admit it.

The door to the small room creaked open, and Karen strode in with a look that was the embodiment of smug satisfaction. She was dressed in her usual casual wear - dark leggings, boots, and a sleeveless top. Her dark hair was tied back, though a few strands framed her face. She took one look at Ezra lounging on the bed and crossed her arms, her eyes twinkling with smugness.

She'd really enjoyed spoonfeeding Ezra that first day, when it turned out his hands just wouldn't cooperate, pain making his fingers spasm.

"Feeling good enough to play with your Pokemon, huh?" She asked, sarcasm lacing her tone. "Need me to fluff your pillow while I'm at it to make sure you're nice and comfy and don't fall on your face again?"

Ezra smirked, stretching out his arms in a dramatic fashion. "You know," He began, not even bothering to sit up, "If being annoyed with me usually means you'll practically waiter on me hand and foot, I should probably annoy you more often. Just saying."

Karen rolled her eyes and made a show of inspecting her nails. "Fuck you, Kassian," She retorted, her voice dripping with exasperation. "See me ever help you again."

Ezra's grin widened. She had been hovering over him for days, and he knew she wasn't truly angry. There was something softer under the surface - a bit of worry, maybe. He decided to play along, but for once, his voice dropped the teasing edge. For a minute only.

He was kind, truly.

"Well..." He said, sitting up slightly, "Either way, thank you. I couldn't have recovered this quickly without you." He flashed her a sincere smile, a rare moment of honesty.

Karen blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. But before she could respond, Ezra's Pokemon, as if on cue, all turned to her and bowed in thanks. Every single one of them, in perfect sync, their faces completely serious. Akuma even let out a gruff grunt of respect, it's eyes closed in a faux meditative pose.

Karen's cheeks immediately flushed, her hands flailing wildly as she tried to wave them off. "Stop bowing, you idiots!" She barked, her face now a bright shade of red. "It was nothing! Besides, it gave me time to train and catch up." She crossed her arms and attempted to regain her composure, but the heat in her face remained as she shot Ezra a challenging look.

Ezra chuckled, leaning back against the headboard, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Cute how you think a couple of days would be enough to close the gap."

Karen scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him as if she were sizing him up for a battle. "I'll show you," She shot back, her voice full of determination. "I'll take you down one of these days."

Ezra smirked, placing a hand behind his head in a mock-relaxed pose. "Ah, a takedown maneuver by a cute girl." He made a show of thinking deeply, tapping his chin with a finger. "My mother warned me about this." He whispered, "My innocence is at risk!"

Karen didn't flinch this time. Instead, she gave him a deadpan look, unimpressed. "You don't have a mother," She pointed out, her voice flat.

Ezra sighed dramatically, clearly savoring every moment of the back-and-forth. "True. I agree, that was weak. I'll have to work harder to get you flustered from now on."

Karen's lips twitched, betraying the smile she was trying to suppress. "Stop saying shit like that, now get up. Whitney is finally available, and she's waiting on your dumb ass."

Ezra gave a nod of acknowledgment as his Pokemon began returning themselves to their Pokeballs, each one tapping the center and disappearing with a flash of light. He tossed off the blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed, groaning slightly as his sore muscles protested. The floor felt cool beneath his feet, and he stretched once more.

Suddenly, a strangled sound came from Karen, who had spun around with her back now firmly facing him. "Why are you naked!?" She practically screeched, her voice full of outrage.

Ezra chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying himself. "Why, I thought I had nothing you hadn't seen already," He teased, his voice full of amusement. "Someone did undress me that first night, after all. Did you… Take advantage of me, Karen?" His smirk widened, "The least you could have done was wake me and let me enjoy it~."

Karen made a noise somewhere between a growl and an exasperated groan, her hands flying to her hair as she pulled at it in frustration. "Stop saying stupid shit!" She snapped. "And I sure as hell didn't undress you!"

Ezra began pulling on his clothes, still grinning. "Huh. Nurse Joy is more interesting than I thought then..."

Karen groaned louder, her voice strained with embarrassment. "Just… Stop talking," she muttered, her fists clenched at her sides as she kept her back turned to him. However, something caught Ezra's eye - her gaze kept flickering toward the mirror across the room.

Ezra blinked, his smirk growing impossibly wider. "Turning your back doesn't do much when you're just using the mirror to peek," He pointed out smugly, his voice filled with unbridled amusement.

Karen jumped as if she had been caught red-handed, letting out a string of incomprehensible words before bolting for the door. "You… Shut up!" She yelled over her shoulder, her face practically glowing red as she rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a loud thud.

Ezra chuckled to himself, finishing getting dressed at a leisurely pace. The door rattled slightly from the force of Karen's exit, and he could still hear her muffled grumbling on the other side.

He shook his head, grinning as he straightened his shirt. At this rate, he might have to thank Agatha for saddling him with Karen. She was just too hilarious to mess with.

He wondered idly if calling her a pervert instead of cute would get her even more flustered.

Sounded like a worthwhile experiment. She was just too fun to bully, it really wasn't his fault.

Half hour later, Goldenrod City, Johto.

Ezra and Karen approached the Goldenrod Gym, the towering structure a blend of elegance and charm amidst the busy city. The exterior had a sleek, modern design, a large glass façade reflecting the bustling streets of Goldenrod. Inside, it was clear this wasn't just a place for battles but a hub of community life. The pink-and-white color scheme carried through the interior, warm lighting casting a cozy glow across the plush carpets and soft pastel walls. It was clear from the first glance that the gym's aesthetic matched its famously bubbly leader, Whitney.

An interesting thing to note, for Ezra. Because according to Karen she'd only been a Gym Leader two years, yet the Gym reflected her to such a point. She was definitely a go-getter then.

As they walked through the gym's lobby, they were immediately greeted by a gym trainer who had been standing near the door as if waiting for their arrival. She had short brown hair and wore the gym's uniform - pink with white accents, much like the building itself.

"Ezra Kassian?" Whe asked, her tone polite but clearly filled with gratitude. She smiled gently at him, her hands clasped in front of her. "Come this way." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and began walking through the lobby toward a private area of the gym. "Thank you for what you've done," She added quietly as they walked. "On behalf of all of us at the gym. We owe you so much."

Ezra gave her a nod, following her through a hallway that led deeper into the gym. Karen walked beside him, though she seemed a bit tense as the gym trainer continued to express her thanks. They were led past a large training area where other gym trainers were working with their Pokemon, the soft hum of conversation and the occasional cry of a Pokemon filling the air.

Soon, they arrived at a door with a plaque that read "Whitney." The gym trainer knocked gently on the door. "Leader Whitney, I have your guests with me," She called softly.

The door didn't so much open as it did fly off its hinges. A pink blur shot out at lightning speed, and before Ezra could fully process what was happening, something small and powerful collided with him, knocking him off balance. A hand gripped his hair firmly, yanking his head back, and then lips crashed against his, stealing his breath in the process.

Ezra staggered slightly, wide-eyed as he processed the situation - he was being kissed. Aggressively. And the culprit? Whitney, the Gym Leader of Goldenrod City, infamous for her pink hair, bubbly personality, and fierce Miltank. Her body pressed firmly against his, every inch of her warm and very present as her body molded against his.

"What the hell, get off him!" Karen's sharp voice broke through the haze, her outrage palpable. At the same time, the gym trainer let out a horrified gasp. "Leader Whitney, show some decorum!"

Whitney pulled back, releasing Ezra from her grip, though she kept her hands planted firmly on his shoulders. Ezra blinked, a little dazed, licking his lips as he tried to regain his composure. The taste of watermelon lingered in his mouth. "Hm... Watermelon," He muttered absently, as if that were the most important detail to note.

Whitney stood before him, her bright pink hair slightly disheveled from the rush, her wide eyes sparkling with excitement and gratitude. She wore a pink-and-white workout outfit that was both stylish and functional, perfectly matching the gym's aesthetic. Despite her small curvy frame, she radiated an energy that filled the entire room, her smile wide and unabashedly pleased.

"Thank you so much for everything!" Whitney gushed, her hands still gripping his shoulders like she had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

Without warning, Whitney whirled around and grabbed Karen by the arm, pulling her in close. "You helped too, didn't you?" She asked with an intense look that bordered on manic.

Karen's eyes widened, and she frantically shook her head. "No, no, I -"

Ezra, standing just behind Whitney, couldn't help but smirk, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Oh, don't be modest, Karen," He said, his voice teasing. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Karen turned a furious glare on him, her expression screaming betrayal. "Ezr-mmphf!" Her protest was cut short as Whitney, not one to waste time, grabbed Karen by the back of the head and pulled her into an equally aggressive kiss. Karen's arms flailed helplessly for a moment before her protests turned into muffled mewls of frustration, that soon turned into tiny noises of another kind.

The gym trainer looked absolutely mortified, her face buried in her hands. "This is why we have a reputation," She moaned despondently.

Ezra watched the scene unfold with unbothered amusement, folding his arms across his chest as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Goldenrod had certainly taken an unexpected turn, but he wasn't complaining. In fact, it was quickly becoming one of his favorite cities.

Whitney finally released Karen, who staggered back, looking dazed and utterly confused. The gym leader grabbed both of them by their arms, her energy seemingly endless as she dragged them into her office, slamming the door behind her with her hip, effectively shutting it in the gym trainer's face.

"Right!" Whitney said brightly, her bubbly demeanor back in full force as she led them inside. "That was just me showing my appreciation, but I still need to thank you both properly!"

Karen, still looking slightly dazed, blinked several times, trying to process what had just happened. Meanwhile, Whitney gave them a deep, respectful bow. "I'm Whitney, the Gym Leader for Goldenrod City. Thank you for everything you've done. I can never repay you!"

Ezra opened his mouth, fully prepared to offer a few creative ways she could repay him, but Karen cut him off before he could get a word out.

"Whatever this idiot says," Karen began, her voice firm, "He did all the work. I only called for help. He's the one who deserves all the gratitude." She crossed her arms, clearly determined to deflect any thanks that might be sent her way.

Whitney straightened, her expression softening as she looked at Karen with genuine appreciation. "Then thank you for calling for help," She said sincerely, her eyes warm. "That was just as important."

Karen faltered, clearly unsure how to respond to Whitney's earnest gratitude. She shifted uncomfortably, the stubborn edge in her expression slowly softening.

Sensing the tension, Ezra decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. "How's your sister doing?" He asked quietly. It was the polite thing to do, and he genuinely hoped she was alright. He wasn't that much of an asshole..

He'd still use the situation of course. He wasn't a paragon of virtue either, but he genuinely hoped she'd be able to heal.

Whitney's face darkened, and the shift in her mood was almost jarring. The normally bubbly pinkette clenched her fists tightly, her eyes clouded with pain. "She's… Not okay," She admitted, her voice quieter now. "But… She's managing." She didn't offer any more details, and it was clear the topic was painful for her.

Ezra gave her a sympathetic look, while Karen, in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture, patted Whitney awkwardly on the shoulder, her usual tough exterior momentarily softened.

"I managed to get information on a small Rocket presence in Goldenrod while I was in the base," Ezra said, breaking the silence. His voice was casual, but the offer was deliberate - he had been holding on to this information for the right moment, this moment. "If you'd like it, that is."

There was no doubt that this small cell were the people who had facilitated the kidnapping of Whitney's sister.

Karen, who had been looking at Whitney with sympathy, suddenly snapped to attention. "You didn't tell Lady Agatha that!" She exclaimed, her tone accusatory.

Ezra shot her a look, his red eyes gleaming with complete determination. "Whitney deserves to be the one to take retribution, don't you think?" He replied smoothly, his tone full of calm confidence.

Karen hesitated, biting her lip as Whitney turned her pleading eyes toward her. Ezra knew it wouldn't take much to sway Karen, and after a brief moment of inner turmoil, she finally relented. "I suppose… It doesn't matter who takes them down," She muttered, clearly still conflicted.

Whitney, on the other hand, looked positively fired up. She pumped her fist into the air, her usual cheerfulness replaced with a fiercer, more determined look. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," She said, her voice low and full of resolve. "Where are they?" She asked Ezra, her face set in grim determination.

Ezra told her, watching with amusement as her face hardened with fierce satisfaction. She turned to him, her eyes blazing with gratitude. "I owe you so, so much," She said, her voice filled with genuine emotion.

"If you say so," Ezra replied easily, though inwardly, he was already thinking ahead. Having a Gym Leader like Whitney beholden to him? That could only help him in the future.

As Whitney leaned in for seconds, her intentions more than clear, and Karen let out an exasperated screech behind her, Ezra found himself thinking that this whole hero gig had side benefits he hadn't quite considered before.

Very good side benefits.

Later that evening, Goldenrod City, Johto.

Ezra sat across from Cecile in the quiet, dimly lit room he'd rented for the young programmer. The space wasn't particularly large, just enough to house a desk, a bed, and a small table, but it was functional. Cecile sat at the desk, the only source of light coming from the lamp overhead, illuminating the piles of papers in front of him. His eyes darted over Ezra's detailed plans - pages upon pages of business projections, market analysis, coding specifications, and a roadmap to build a social media empire centered around Pokemon battles, events and activities.

Ezra had ditched Karen by sicking Whitney on her, the two having a girls night. Karen not able to say no without being rude. Normally not a problem for her, but with the situation with Whitney's sister as it was - she hadn't been able to say no.

Having Whitney looking very favorable on him was already paying off, he'd had her use her Gym Leader credentials to look up Shae. Whitney had easily agreed when he'd suggested she might have been affiliated to the Rockets. There hadn't been a bevy of information, but his theory seemed to have been wrong in the end.

Shae had lost family to Team Rocket, which made it highly unlikely she was part of that crowd. He was still suspicious however. Just because she wasn't part of them, didn't mean she wasn't part of something. But nothing in her records indicated what. So it was something he'd have to ask the girl himself the next time she popped up.

Ezra's crimson eyes stayed locked on Cecile's face, watching for every flicker of expression as the teenager worked through the material. He could see the gears turning in the kid's head, but Cecile wasn't exactly a great poker player; the way his brows furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line told Ezra that Cecile was both impressed and overwhelmed.

Finally, Cecile set the papers down, leaning back in the chair with a pensive look, his fingers rubbing at his chin like he wasn't sure where to start.

"Well?" Ezra asked bluntly, his voice cutting through the silence.

Cecile blinked and looked up, slightly startled by Ezra's straightforwardness. "I… I can probably do it. I mean, technically, yeah, I can do it. The platform you're talking about, the algorithms for the media platform, the capabilities for editing and categorizing the footage - it's all possible." He paused, eyes darting away nervously. "But…"

Ezra's patience was not infinite. He crossed his arms, leaning forward slightly. "But what? What's the issue?"

Cecile fidgeted, glancing back at the pages on the desk, then at Ezra, before lowering his voice. "Look, I didn't exactly volunteer for any of this, you know? You… You sort of just… pulled me into it." He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "I wasn't exactly given a choice."

Ezra waved off the complaint like it was nothing more than an annoying fly. "If you were truly against it, you could've told the League to take you in when we left the base. They'd have brought you back to some quiet corner of Johto, where you could've disappeared. But you didn't. You're here. So, cut the crap. What's the real problem?"

Cecile swallowed hard, shifting in his chair like a child caught in a lie. "It's just… This is big. Like, really big." He paused, running a hand through his disheveled blue hair. "Once this takes off, it's going to explode across regions. The algorithm you want me to build, the way you plan to make yourself the centerpiece of all these battles… You'll be a star. Fast. Really fast."

Ezra smirked, his tone dry. "That's the point, Cecile. People are supposed to be drawn to this. Pokemon battles, tournaments, interviews - It's all designed to capture attention, to dominate viewership. The world will be watching every battle I'm in." He leaned back in his chair, his smirk deepening. "It would be a pointless investment if people spent their time watching Eevee videos instead."

Cecile winced at Ezra's casual dismissal of his concern. He fiddled with his hands, glancing down at the desk. "I get that, sir. I really do. And yeah, I can see how this could work, how you could become… Well, the biggest name in the Pokemon world." His voice lowered again, almost a whisper now. "But there's something else. I… I was kidnapped once already. If I build this for you, if this blows up the way you want it to… People will come for me. Again."

Well, he probably wasn't wrong…

Ezra's smirk faded slightly, his gaze hardening. For a moment, he didn't say anything, just studying the teenager in front of him. Then, without warning, Ezra leaned forward, placing a firm hand on Cecile's shoulder. His grip was tight, almost reassuring, but there was an undeniable intensity behind it.

"You saw the aftermath of what I did to that Rocket base," Ezra said, his voice low and full of menace. "You saw the aftermath of what I did to the people who took me. I left no one alive for kidnapping me." His hand squeezed Cecile's shoulder just a bit tighter, making sure the boy understood the weight of his words. "If someone takes you, I'll do the same to them. I'll kill them all."

Strangely, rather than being reassured, Cecile looked even more uncomfortable. His eyes darted to the floor, his lips pressing into a tight line. The teen let out a nervous laugh, clearly unsure if that was supposed to comfort him or terrify him. But after a few moments, he nodded slowly, his expression resigned.

"Yeah… I guess that's one way to look at it," Cecile muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright. I'll get started. The preliminary work, at least. I'll need a few more things to get it all running smoothly, though." His fingers danced nervously over the edge of the desk. "And maybe some Porygon, like we talked about."

Ezra nodded sharply, satisfied with the boy's compliance. "Once we're back in Kanto, I'll get the Porygon you need. You'll also have a few assistants from whatever group my lawyer manages to scrape up from the Kanto universities. You'll have everything you need to make this a reality."

Cecile gave a hesitant nod, finally reaching for the keyboard to begin working. Ezra watched him with a cold, calculating gaze. He knew that once the infrastructure was set up - once this platform started gaining traction - he'd be unstoppable. Pokemon battles had always dominated television ratings, but the internet had barely been tapped for its potential. He could stream every gym battle, every tournament, every exhibition match with the touch of a button. Global audiences would tune in. He would control the narrative, the viewership, and ultimately, the fame.

Ezra stood from his seat, crossing his arms as he watched Cecile begin tapping away at the keyboard, the hum of technology filling the quiet room. He could already see it - the streams, the highlights, the battles with tens of millions watching. People wouldn't just know his name - they'd be unable to avoid it.

With the internet's reach, his rise to stardom would be swift and undeniable. Every match, every victory, would be amplified tenfold, and soon, his name would carry weight far beyond his abilities as a trainer. He would shape the culture of Pokemon battles. He wouldn't be untouchable, of course - there was still personal power to consider, especially in a world where strength was everything - but he'd be as close as one could get.

He would be able to push for Gym Leader status even without support from the likes of Lance with that kind of backing…

Ezra's thoughts swirled with the possibilities, the avenues of influence that would open up once this machine was in place. Fame wasn't just a tool for recognition - it was a shield, a weapon, and a stepping stone to even greater power. Once the world knew who he was, they wouldn't be able to touch him without consequence. And for those that tried… Well, he'd have other means of handling them.

Soon, he thought, soon…