Gladion after teleporting to the tiny islet where Team aqua base was made his way towards them.
Gladion's was not worried about him and his team being overwhelmed.
'If this goes wrong, I can always unleash Colossus and wipe them out, completely. I would just have to make sure in that case I leave no one alive. No survivors means no trail back to me, but it kills the chance to pit Rocket against Aqua.'
'I'd get another shot to fracture their alliance later, but this is the cleanest path.' The risk was worth it, and Gladion walked as if he owned the islet, his confidence a shield against the danger.
'To think, I would be talking about killing people . This world really changed people. Who would have thought that a world from a kids show would be so ruthless?' Gladion thought with a sigh
To sell his disguise as Petrel, Gladion launched into Team Rocket's iconic anthem, his voice a mocking croon that echoed across the rocky terrain.
"Prepare for trouble, make it double! I'm Petrel, here to burst your bubble!" he sang,
Nyx joined in, her voice silky and dramatic, [To crown DarkQueen with moonlit glory, I'll rewrite this island's boring story!] She flicked her tail, striking a diva pose, only to stumble on a root, her hiss a poor cover for the fumble.
"Graceful," Gladion muttered, smirking. Guy, unable to resist, belted out,
[To ignite the flames of BURNING YOUTH, I'll punch this base with fiery truth!] His four arms flexed, voice booming, earning a sharp glare from Gladion. "Guy, no 'youth' nonsense!" Guy sulked, crossing all four arms. [My soul's in chains, boss.]
The song spiraled into chaos when Sabrina and Gwen Pokemon also started singing—Jynx warbling off-key, Gengar cackling mid-verse and adding, [Eat their souls, heh!]
Sableye chiming in, [Yo, steal their gems, make bank!] and Banette's eerie giggle punctuating the mess like a haunted soundtrack.
Hypno, swinging its pendulum, muttered telepathically, "Amateurs."
Gladion stifled a laugh, his psychic aura warm with amusement. [Thank Arceus Aqua can't understand Pokéspeak. We sound like a drunk karaoke crew butchering a classic.]
Team Aqua's guards, stationed outside the bunker hidden under dense trees and bushes, froze, their hands hovering over Poké Balls, faces a mix of worry and confusion.
[A Rocket executive? Here, with Pokémon out?] A burly man, clearly the captain, emerged from the bunker, his Poliwrath at his side, its muscular frame glistening with seawater.
Gladion's read the captain's thoughts which were laced with suspicion.
'Petrel's not supposed to be here. We meet on Moro Island, per our terms. Why's he got so many Pokémon out? This stinks.' The captain's eyes narrowed, and he whispered to a subordinate, "Oi, contact HQ. Tell 'em team Rocket Executive Petrel's here, ask for backup." For more chapters visit novel~fire~net
The man saluted, slipping inside the bunker, and Gladion noted him mentally. 'That's my survivor. Run, little messenger.'
The captain approached, his Poliwrath tense, its fists clenched. His voice was gruff, skipping pleasantries. "What are you doing here, Executive Petrel? This ain't our deal spot."
Gladion, as Petrel, leaned into the role, his smirk wide and taunting. "Oh, no greetings? That's cold, captain. I'm here to send Team Aqua packing back to your oceans. Team Rocket's done with you—Team Magma's got a better deal."
Internally, Gladion's grin was predatory. 'Perfect. Magma's their arch-rivals in Hoenn, obsessed with land over sea.'
The lie was a masterstroke; Aqua would assume Rocket was betraying them for Magma's smuggling routes or territorial control.
'They won't trust Magma's denials—too much bad blood.' Even if Aqua investigated, the seed of doubt would fester, fueling their hatred for Rocket. 'They'll be at each other's throats.'
The captain's face hardened, his hand twitching toward a Poké Ball, but Gladion didn't give him a chance to act. "Attack!" he barked.
Guy roared, all four of his fists glowing with crackling electricity, the air humming with raw power. He charged the Poliwrath, unleashing a quadruple Thunder Punch, each fist slamming into the Water-type's chest with a deafening crack.
Lightning surged, arcing across the Poliwrath's body, its eyes dimming instantly as it crumpled, dead before it hit the ground.
The captain staggered back, his face pale with shock. "Poliwrath!" he gasped, fumbling for another Poké Ball. Gladion's smirk was cold, his psychic senses savoring the chaos.
The islet erupted into a massacre. Nyx darted forward, her Shadow Ball blasting a Crawdaunt into a tree, its shell splintering with a sickening crunch. Hypno's Psychic seized a Golduck, lifting it off the ground and slamming it into a bunker wall, its skull cracking like a dropped coconut.
Jynx unleashed a Blizzard, freezing a Tentacruel's tentacles solid; Gengar's Shadow Sneak sliced through, shattering the ice and fainting the Pokémon.
Sableye's Power Gem pulverized a Kingler's claw, the shards flying as it collapsed, while Banette's Will-O-Wisp engulfed a Sharpedo, its thrashing screams doused by agony.
Gladion's team moved ruthlessly
Aqua's Water-types, bred for naval combat, faltered on the island's terrain. A Starmie fired a Hydro Pump, grazing Jynx's arm, but Banette's Hex surged through its core, dimming it. A Gyarados reared, its Hyper Beam charging, only for Nyx's Dark Pulse to slam its jaw, toppling it into the surf.
Gladion's psychic senses caught the subordinate from earlier, slipping through the trees toward the dock in panic.
'There's my messenger.' Gladion ignored him as he subtly weavrd psychic suggestions into the man's mind—amplifying the sting of betrayal, the rage at Team Rocket's "treachery."
'He'll report Rocket's backstab, not question how differently Petrel acted.' The manipulation was small undetectable even to Psychic Pokémon.
The captain, rallying with a second Poliwrath, put up a fight. Its Dynamic Punch grazed Guy's shoulder, but the Machamp shrugged it off, grinning wickedly. "That all you got?" Guy taunted, his Ice Punch freezing the Poliwrath's arm, followed by a
Fire Punch that melted the ice and knocked it out. The captain drew a knife, lunging with a desperate snarl, but Hypno's Hypnosis caught him mid-step, his body slumping, snoring like a Snorlax. Gladion scanned the carnage—eight Aqua members down, their Pokémon dead or fainted, the base a smoldering ruin of shattered concrete and scorched trees.
'Disappointing,' he thought, his smirk fading. 'I expected soldiers, not this rabble.' His psychic senses probed the fallen, their auras weak, untrained.
'These must be third-rate grunts, not Aqua's elite. Only the captain's got any spine.'
His grandfather Maren's tales of Aqua's war-honed marines—disciplined, lethal—clashed with this pathetic display.
'Their real forces must be at sea or their main HQ. This is just a forward post. They must be thinking that Rocket would betray them and must have only placed expendables here. Well It works for me.'
Gladion signaled his team to stand down, the islet silent save for the lapping waves and the crackle of dying fires.
"Good work," he muttered.
---Author Notes------
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