Gladion pondered about the victory over Roland, the Bug-type ace trainer, —three Pokémon, Tengen, Hisoka, and Arsenal, had dismantled an Ace trainer's team, cementing Gladion's reputation as a force of nature. Many might think of him too overpowered.
'Overpowered? To the casual eye, maybe,' he mused, his smirk faint but sharp. *Three Pokémon to crush an Ace trainer looks dominant, but Roland wasn't a true elite.
Roland's team—Scizor's agility, Forretress's durability—had been formidable, but they lacked the spark of top-tier Aces, the kind who battled Champions and rewrote battle dynamics.
'Elite Aces don't just have strong Pokémon; they have monsters with rare abilities that break the game." Gladion's mind churned, cataloging his own roster. 'Heck only two of my Pokemon have unique abilities of their own.'
His thoughts drifted to his mother, Erza Vortex, Kanto's fiercest Fire-type ace, whose Ninetales wielded Flash Fire. 'A Fire-type move hits it? No damage—just a 50% boost to its own Fire moves.'
'50%! That's obscene. Bait a Fire attack, then obliterate with a juiced-up Inferno. Broken as hell.' His psychic senses conjured battles against Aces with equally wild abilities.
'Those are the fights I'm chasing. Roland was a stepping stone. The real titans—Lance, Cynthia, Steven, Lean—they're out there, and I'm coming for them soon.'
Excitement surged, his aura flaring like a beacon. If someone would have seen his battle crazed smile, they would realise that the young boy was a battle maniac.
But dreams of future battles were cut short by a ping from his tablet—urgent reports from the Mt. Moon mine, his newly claimed treasure trove of Metal Coat alloy.
'Suspicious activity, no response from perimeter guards.' Gladion's smirk darkened, his psychic senses tingling with suspicion.
'Team Rocket. Giovanni's moving faster than I thought.' The mine was his empire's cornerstone, and Rocket's black-market Metal Coat trade was at risk from his low-cost production. 'They want to sabotage me, make me look incompetent so the League reclaims the mine. Not happening.' He grabbed his jacket, teleported to Eldergreen, his Tropius, and soared to Mt. Moon, the night air biting his skin, stars hidden by clouds.
Landing at the cave entrance, Gladion's psychic senses flared, painting a grim scene before his eyes confirmed it. The rocky terrain was a battlefield of carnage: dead Pokémon—Arbok with crushed skulls, Weezing deflated and scorched, Raticate torn apart—littered the ground, their blood pooling in the dirt, some still trickling from fresh wounds.
Team Rocket grunts, their black uniforms torn, lay scattered—some dead, necks snapped or chests caved in, others groaning, clutching broken limbs or gashes.
A few Pokémon, a battered Golbat and a whimpering Raticate, clung to life, their auras fading. The mine's security guards, shaken but unharmed, stood watch, their Machop and Geodude tense, eyes wide with awe and fear. The air reeked of blood, smoke, and fear, the cave's entrance untouched but the perimeter a slaughterhouse.
Atop a massive boulder, the architect of the devastation lounged, its hulking form casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the moonlight.
Gladion's smirk widened, his psychic bond pulsing with pride. "Good job, Rhyperior, Grandpa would have loved to see you still brutalising your enemies" he said, his voice low but warm.
*Flashback: Hours Earlier*
Under Mt. Moon's starless sky, a dozen Team Rocket grunts crept toward the mine, their black uniforms blending with the shadows, their faces twisted with malicious glee.
Their Pokémon—Arbok, Weezing, Golbat, Raticate—slithered and floated, ready to sabotage equipment, kill guards, and frame Gladion's negligence. Vark, the squad leader, grinned, whispering, "Vortex's strutting in his stadium. We'll wreck his mine, make him look like a fool."
His Arbok hissed, fangs dripping venom, while a Weezing belched toxic smog. The grunts fanned out, EMP devices and explosives in hand, confident in their numbers and the distraction of Moonwood's festivities.
A low rumble stopped them cold. Their Pokémon froze, panic seizing them—Arbok coiled back, Weezing deflated, Golbat hid behind its trainer, Raticate's fur bristling.
The grunts turned, confusion morphing into terror as a colossal shadow loomed, its silhouette monstrous against the cliff. "RHYPERIORRRR!" The roar shook the mountain, a primal bellow that sent pebbles cascading. Rhyperior charged. This content belongs to novel•fire.net
Vark screamed, "Attack!" but the grunts' confidence shattered like glass.
Rhyperior's arm glowed, launching a boulder the size of a Golem, smashing an Arbok into the cliff, its spine snapping, knocked out cold. A Weezing fired Sludge Bomb, the poison sizzling, but Rhyperior's spun its drill-arm, deflecting the attack and impaling Weezing, hurling it into a rock, fainted.
Two Golbat swooped with Air Slash, their wings slicing the air, but Rhyperior's "Stone Edge" erupted, jagged rock pillars bursting from the ground, impaling one and grounding the other, its wing torn. The impact shook the earth, the grunts stumbling.
A Raticate lunged with Hyper Fang, but Rhyperior's met it head-on sending it skidding lifelessly.
Vark, desperate, rallied his team. "Group assault!" Three Arbok and two Rhydon charged, but Rhyperior's "Earthquake" tore the ground apart, fissures swallowing an Arbok and trapping a Rhydon, its screams muffled as rubble crushed it. The surviving grunts fired guns, bullets pinging off Rhyperior's hide, and Vark drew a plasma knife, its blade humming.
Rhyperior's "Rock Blast" answered, a barrage of stones firing like sniper shots, each hitting a grunt—knees shattered, chests caved, one skull crushed. Vark lunged, knife aimed, but Rhyperior's tail swiped, breaking his arm, the weapon clattering away. The last grunt fled, sobbing, but a final Rock Blast caught him, dropping him in a heap.
Within minutes, the squad was decimated—Pokémon dead or fainted, grunts broken or bleeding out. The only thought they had before dying or fainting was 'What Pokemon was that?' Or rather 'what monster was that killed them?'
Gladion's psychic senses scanned the surviving grunts, their fear a bitter tang in his mind.
A few whimpered, eyes pleading, but his dark grin spread, cold and unrelenting. 'Team Rocket thought they could sabotage my mine, undermine my claim? They underestimated me.'
His Gym Leader status granted him legal leeway to combat criminal threats, powers he hadn't wielded as a wandering trainer.
'And since I'm a Gym Leader, I can do things I couldn't before.' His eyes glinted
'They are gonna pay for targeting me.'
---Author Notes------
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