Beneath the towering Silph Co. building in Saffron City lay Team Rocket's headquarters—the nerve center from which all commands to operatives across the world were issued.
Most days, Giovanni could be found holed up in this shadowy stronghold, rarely venturing out like some reclusive strategist. Beyond a handful of high-ranking executives, the majority of Team Rocket's grunts remained oblivious that their true leader was the very man who controlled Silph Co.'s legitimate facade.
It wasn't that Giovanni lacked the ambition of his younger years to lead from the front. His body simply no longer permitted such vigor.
"Enter."
Seated behind a darkened curtain, Giovanni stared at a photograph in his hands. Only when the computer beside him chimed did he finally set the picture aside, swiveling his chair to face the door.
Moments later, Team Rocket's three executives filed in with military precision.
"I'll spare the preamble. Lt. Surge, Koga—your injuries have healed. You and Sabrina will proceed as planned. We have three months at most to complete all deployments."
His voice carried the weight of tectonic plates shifting. "...I've already recalled all undercover operatives to Saffron City. We'll announce Team Rocket's ascendance to the world starting from Kanto's greatest metropolis."
"Understood, boss." The trio bowed in unison—Surge's scarred face splitting into a feral grin while Sabrina and Koga remained impassive.
None questioned the rushed timetable. None voiced doubts. Their obedience appeared absolute. Yet Giovanni, with decades of experience reading souls like open books, knew better.
The triumvirate's unity had fractured.
Surge remained unchanged—a blunt instrument forged by military discipline. But subtle transformations had taken root in Sabrina and Koga, nurtured by that most dangerous of weaknesses: human connection.
I should never have sent Sabrina to investigate Mt. Moon. The regret tasted bitter. That fateful mission had introduced the psychic prodigy to him—that interloper Ryuuske. Where once Sabrina moved like a marionette awaiting commands, now flickers of independent thought animated her actions. Not betrayal per se, but the emergence of self.
As for Koga, the ninja's allegiance had always been feudal in nature—a retainer serving his lord. But recent events had seeded hesitation. Not fear for himself, but for another life entwined with his.
Giovanni couldn't fault this. They shared the same vulnerability—that primal instinct to protect one's progeny.
When the executives departed, Giovanni rotated his chair toward the obsidian viewport, murmuring to the cityscape beyond: "...The Johto branch continues to erode under that shadow. You think I don't recognize this 'Elite Four contingency report' as deliberate bait?"
His knuckles whitened around the damning document. A classic sunken cost fallacy—knowing the trap yet compelled to spring it. The opposition had studied his endgame perfectly, dangling this poisoned chalice before a parched man.
"...Two more years of preparation would have guaranteed success. But our adversary won't grant that luxury. Not with this new variable in play."
Another file slid across the desk—Ryuuske's dossier.
"Give him twenty-four months to mature, and he'd single-handedly dismantle Team Rocket." Giovanni's chuckle held no mirth. The irony was exquisite—their ultimate weapon now aimed at its creators.
His greatest talent had always been judging character. This instinct built Team Rocket from Silph's black-ops subsidiary into an organization that brought the League to its knees. That same instinct now screamed that Ryuuske must be eliminated before reaching his zenith.
"Professor Oak..." The name dripped with uncharacteristic venom. The kindly researcher's harmless facade concealed the architect of Mewtwo's defection. Of all living threats, only two truly concerned Giovanni—this unassuming academic, and the phantom puppeteer dismantling Team Rocket's Johto operations.
As for the so-called Elite Four? Amateurs. Lance remained particularly laughable—a rebellious phase given organizational power.
Where ten years ago Team Rocket represented Giovanni's life's work, now it served merely as a stepping stone. Success would be welcome; failure carried no sting. He'd shoulder all sins to grant his executives their hard-earned freedom.
Such was the measure of the man.
——
"Sabrina. Where are you going?"
With Surge departed to mobilize forces, Koga—who owed Sabrina his life after the Silph Co. incident—attempted conversation.
The psychic met him with glacial silence, teleporting away in a ripple of distorted space.
Yet beneath that frozen exterior, turmoil raged. Ryuuske's words in Lavender Town echoed relentlessly—about her parents, about the hollow puppet she'd become...
Saffron isn't safe anymore. Rocket's plans don't matter. I need to get them out first.
That infuriating boy had been right. She'd been following scripts written by others her entire life.
Damn it!
She shook her head violently, as if to dislodge his smirking visage from her mind. The realization terrified her—she was coming undone.
Koga merely shrugged at her retreating form. Alone in the corridor, his whisper barely stirred the air:
"...Good thing I sent Janine to Johto. I'll fabricate reasons to keep her there. Kanto's about to become a warzone."
——
Meanwhile, miles away, Ryuuske honed his skills amidst crashing waves and howling winds, preparing for the greatest trial since his arrival in this world.
The storm clouds gathered.
To be continued…
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