-Stranger-

A teenager with crimson hair walked down the almost-deserted side streets of Goldenrod City. He kept his head down, his arms crossed. His bangs shaded his distinctive eyes, though everybody knew who he was even without seeing them.

Silver Acerbi. The son of Giovanni, the man who so effortlessly took over the Kanjoh continent two years ago. Now, Team Rocket was not the name of a hunted criminal organization, but of powerful tyrants who roamed without fear and did whatever they pleased.
The fear and hate people felt for them remained.

Silver didn't do much. He roamed Goldenrod City, where Team Rocket had set up their new headquarters, and attended the occasional executive meeting. He was supposed to take over, after all. Being at the top like he was, nobody ever told him to go investigate rumored "safehouses" or give demonstrations at the training facilities.
So he did nothing. He didn't need to.

He hated it.

Before the takeover, at least he could do something. Train. Travel. The only thing left now was the multitudes of mindless grunts and fearful masses.

Silver palmed one of his Pokéballs and released his Weavile, who immediately climbed onto his shoulder, keeping a keen lookout for enemies - or loose valuables.
Silver didn't really get the detachment that grunts were required to have. It was obvious enough to him that ignoring or mistreating a Pokémon didn't help its performance. It generally weakened it, in fact. Silver wouldn't have said he was friends with his Pokémon, but he did at least give them the respect they deserved.
He hadn't always been like that. Two years ago he was just as ignorant. But when he had seen the fights between Team Rocket and some of its biggest threats, he had seen the difference with his own silver eyes. Ever since then, he had quietly respected his partners, all too aware that if he went the slightest bit too far with his praise, the consequences would hurt. It was probably a bad idea to have Weavile out, really.

His Pokégear beeped, alerting him of a new message. Another meeting. Another gathering of Rocket's greatest minds to discuss how to keep their lofty positions and suppress the populace.

Silver briefly closed his eyes before returning Weavile and starting towards headquarters.

"We've had a decrease in recruits lately. We need more grunts for our posts in the other regions."
Silver lounged in a large black leather chair, eyeing the Murkrow outside the window boredly. It was the same old, same old - we need more grunts, we need more supplies, there's some rebellion here - and he didn't feel the need to bother himself with it.
"You." Silver ignored it. "Kid, you're supposed to be the boss' heir." That got Silver's attention well enough. "Don't you have any ideas?" asked the annoyed Admin. Silver looked up. He did, in fact, have an idea, but he knew the Admins wouldn't like it. He shrugged.
"You've got somethin', don't you!? Spit it out!"
Silver sighed, then said, "You could offer more food rations to the grunts. They'd come running for that."
"You think those fuckers deserve that!? You useless brat!"
"You asked." Silver rolled his eyes. Do they think I have to tell them what they want to hear?
"...I guess we'll just have to threaten them."
"And then draft 'em if they refuse!" an excited red-haired woman yelled.
"Why don't you just draft them in the first place if you're that desperate for soldiers?" pointed out Silver. The first grunt, the one that had spoken to him, the one with stubble and mean, dark eyes, glared at him, but another Admin, this one with purple hair, nodded and said, "The kid has a point."
"Yes, he does," purred a voice that everyone immediately looked at. Executive Ariana. "I'm honestly ashamed that the best minds of Team Rocket couldn't come up with that. I mean, a mere child had to tell you what to do?" Silver decided not to comment on the fact that she hadn't said anything herself, or that he was certainly not a child. Ariana looked to Giovanni. "With your permission, of course, Giovanni, the other Executives and I will set up a series of drafts. I think it would be best if we simply went to the homes of those to be drafted; all the more leverage to have, no?" A sickly-sweet smile spread itself on her face.
Silver knew he would agree before he even said so. In addition to the fact that it was, in fact, a good idea, he knew that even though Archer was technically second-in-command, Ariana had more power over his father.
"Very well. Make sure to confirm the particulars with me beforehand."
Nothing following that particularly interested Silver, and he resumed staring out the window for the rest of the meeting.

As he left the meeting room, Silver was stopped by Ariana's hand on his shoulder. He turned, shaking it off in the process. He saw brief smile play across her lips before she spoke.
"That really was a good idea, dear. Keep up like that, and I'm sure you'll be just the type of leader we need." With that, she walked past him, brushing her hand against him once again. Silver sighed. With behavior like that, it was a wonder more people didn't question their relationship. Taking that with the standout red hair, it was fairly obvious to Silver that she was his mother - not that she had raised him. That would have kept her from her duties. No, Grace had done that, before she died.
"Just standing here?"
His father's deep voice cut through his thoughts. Silver looked up - even with his height, his father was still taller.
"Is there something wrong with thinking?"
"Not for you, though I would prefer you not clog the hall."
"I was just leaving." Silver turned and walked the path to his room before his father could start on him about training or being more attentive during those meetings - "they're your future, after all". Did he even want that future? It felt suffocating to him.

The next day, Silver was walking along, much like the day before, when he heard a panicked voice in the next street.

"Get away from me!"
Silver looked around the corner of the wall to see a grunt pinning down a girl with brown hair. Silver narrowed his eyes. It disgusted him when those imbeciles did shit like that.
He released his Alakazam and said, gritting his teeth, "Knock that son of a bitch out, please." Alakazam, not needing to ask who or where his target was due to his telekinesis, sent a powerful blast of psionics into the grunt's mind, instantly knocking him out and causing him to collapse on the girl. As he recalled Alakazam, Silver watched the girl, who quickly recovered, rolling the unconscious grunt off of her and standing up before delivering a powerful kick to his side. Silver thought he heard the crack of breaking ribs, but made no move to stop the girl from doling out her punishment - anyone who would fall that low deserved it. As she did so, he idly observed her. Her hair was in two pigtails, and she wore a pair of ripped jeans and a red-and-white shirt.
Suddenly, the girl turned, and her chestnut eyes, the same color as her hair, fell on Silver before he could move. Time seemed to freeze for a second before Silver bolted, ignoring the shouted "Wait!"

Why did I do that? Silver wondered later as he laid on his bed. That had nothing to do with me. Why didn't you just walk past? Now that girl's seen you, and who knows what that could do, he mentally berated himself. At least the grunt didn't see me. Yet, he found he simply didn't care about the results of his actions, and the lecture was only half-hearted. Silver found himself reflecting on the contradiction between himself and the organization he was born into. When Team Rocket encouraged a lack of morals, he attempted to at least somewhat uphold them. When the Executives preferred heavy-handed methods, he thought of gentler, subtler ones, with less collateral and more efficiency. When indifference was said to be the way to go, he became involved.
It was unknown to him why or how he should be like this; after a certain point he had given up on figuring it out. It was annoying, confusing, and certainly not beneficial, yet it was such a part of him that he could never imagine throwing it away and allowing himself to be absorbed into the rancid hive mind that he inhabited.
Silver sighed and rolled onto his side. I'll just stay in for a few days. That girl's just another headache I don't need.

Lyra Soul couldn't get the boy out of her mind.
She was certain he was the one who had saved her, if for no other reason than it being the only reasonable explanation. That, and his reaction to being seen. She sat in her room, hugging her knees - her mother had forced her to stay in when she heard what had happened.
His hair was red, his clothes were black, and his eyes - those eyes that had widened with panic when she met them - were silver.
Silver.
Everybody knew there was one person who looked like that. Giovanni's son. But there was no way it could be him... But no one else looks like him, her mind argued. But he's freaking Giovanni's son! But... but... but... She argued back and forth with herself, all of her sentences seeming to begin with the same, mocking word.
Even if it was him, then why... why would he help her? The question looped in her brain, torturing her with its seeming unanswerablility.

Silver exited the battling room, having just finished the cathartic process of crushing numerous pathetic grunts in battle. It was only a temporary release, but Silver needed all that he could get.
As he walked through the wide passage, he glanced at the doors leading outside. He scowled, and a very brief mental battle began, which was quickly won by the part of him that just couldn't stand the place he had confined himself to for two days. He sprinted out the doors and let his legs carry him as his mind floated in the comparative freedom, blank and empty of thought for the first time in weeks.

Lyra stepped outside, only to be almost knocked down by a red-and-black blur.
Wait... Lyra followed the offender with her eyes, which widened as she recognized him. She promptly gave chase, frowning a bit when she realized that he was faster than her. Luckily enough, she knew that the street he had just turned down ended in a small yard. She just hoped he didn't do to her whatever he had to the grunt.

Silver almost unconsciously stopped when he hit the dead end. Still not thinking about anything in particular, he hunched over a little, catching his breath. When he wasn't as winded anymore, he looked around. He had no idea where he was - but that was why he had Golbat, right?
He heard footsteps from the entrance, seeming to fall at a jogging pace. He spun around, hand in his jacket pocket, just as the person entered the yard.
Her!?
-
Lyra slowed. The expression on his face told her that yes, it was the same person.

"So you are him."
The statement hit Silver off-guard. She was looking for me?

"Why?" she said. One word, so simple of a question. Silver frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Why'd you save me?"
A question he couldn't answer. He looked to the side, still ready to pull out a Pokéball if the need arose.

"I asked you a question."

"That was obvious enough."

"Then why didn't you answer?"
Silence.

"What, ya too good for me or something?"

Silver scoffed. "Do you even know who you're talking to?"

"Of course... Silver."

"Then why do you even need to ask?" The jerk... Lyra opened her mouth to insult him, but he spoke again before she could.
"I'm Rocket. I'm trash. I'm not too good for anything." Wait... what? Did he just insult his own organization?
Silver pulled out Golbat's ball and released him. This woman is starting to get annoying. "Take me somewhere I can get back to HQ from."
Lyra shook herself out of her shock. "Hey! You still didn't answer my question!"
As Golbat started to lift Silver up, he met her eyes for the first time during the entire conversation.

"That's because I don't know." And with that, Golbat flew him away.
Lyra watched him leave, even more confused than she had been before she chased him down. She had been sure there had been some ulterior motive, that he had some grudge against the grunt - but for him to insult Team Rocket and then say that he didn't know...

"Silver, huh?" You're just as strange as your name.