"Muhahaha, we've been waiting for you," the man began, tipping his black fedora's brim. "So, you are Lyra..." Maliciously, he watched the girl who had entered his office. Placing a hand on his laptop's keyboard, he closed out the open window of her trainer profile.
"Nhh... no. I'm Super Jump Girl," Lyra argued, trying her best to keep composed behind her black specs. Impossible! How did he see past my brilliant disguise?...!
"I'm not stupid. I know who you are," the man drawled, rolling his eyes upward. "But... Me... You don't know who I am?"
"Hmm..." Lyra muttered, squinting and observing him closely. "A... Gentleman?"
"It is me, Giovanni...!" The man stood up on his chair in outrage, raising his fists as if he was milking the sky. "The majestic Giovanni himself!"
"ALL hail Giovanni, chika chika," the Murkrow in the corner cried, bobbing its feathered head. "Chika-chik. Where's my pen? Faaaaat bird."
"Wahahaha!" The man dissolved into triumphant laughter.
"That... can't be right," Lyra spoke, holding her chin in reflection. "From what I remember... Giovanni was muscular, enough to fill a whole TV screen... As for his voice, it was more of a monstrous growl. And his eyes, they were inhuman and cold..."
"...Huh?"
"But this guy here just looks like a shifty beanpole." Lyra pointed at him.
The man crouched down on his chair, stricken with disbelief.
"I don't sound anything like Giovanni? I don't even look like Giovanni?" he lamented.
"I give you an 'E' for effort." Lyra gave him one thumb up.
"H...how come?" he whimpered, desolated by his failure. "I've worked so hard to mimic him!"
Typhlosion set his solid rump down on the ground and watched the man sob and sulk. This would take awhile.
"Wait..." Lyra whispered, softly bumping Typhlosion with her elbow. "Doesn't he seem familiar? I mean, like someone who screwed with us before..."
"Typhlo-shun..." The pokemon crossed his stubby arms and narrowed his eyes. Scooting in close, he stuck his long snout at the depressed man and sniffed thoroughly.
"Shuuun..." Typhlosion grumbled, instantly recognizing the scent. This man... He DID screw with us once before... "Typhlo, typho..."
"Fails the sniff test, does he?" Lyra nodded, hearing out the rest of Typhlosion's explanation. "I see... so he's actually that wacky grunt who harassed the Kimono Girls at the Dance Hall... What a problem."
"Don't call me wacky," the man spat indignantly, clenching his fists.
"Well I don't know what to call you! You're certainly no ordinary grunt," Lyra confessed, confused and wondering what the man even was. "Who are you, anyways?"
"Muhahaha! ...Me?" he revealed, jumping back atop his seat. "–At times, the hostile company peon, Rocket Grunt! ...At other times, the legendary Team Rocket Boss, Giovanni! And sometimes, the guy who steals Proton's food from the communal refrigerator... But my true identity is... Giovanniiii Flash!"
Throwing off his black trench coat, hat, and wig, he revealed his unique Team Rocket uniform underneath– along with his purple hair and similar goatee.
"–The master of disguise, Executive Petrel!" he proclaimed, brandishing a ukulele like a sword. "I'm gonna change, you know?"
"You certainly look like the kind of guy who steals people's food," Lyra admitted. "Terrible."
"Phlo pho shun." Typhlosion retorted. So that's what you meant by 'shifty beanpole.'
"I am a Team Rocket Executive!" the man declared angrily. "Aren't you amazed by all the various forms which I have previously assumed?...!"
"Look. There's way too many of you guys to keep track of," Lyra replied, frowning as if she had just been asked to do some unreasonable chore. "Also, it doesn't help that there's another Executive with a 'P' name. Are you guys brothers?" And where did that ukulele come from?...
"Wait a minute, you're completely dodging my question!" Petrel yelled dramatically, then placing his hands on his hips and hunching quietly. "And brothers? Proton? ...Did you come into my office just to insult me?"
"Uh..." Lyra adjusted her sunglasses. What did I come in here for again?... So much has happened. I can't remember for the life of me.
"You must be trying to sneak into the radio-transmitter room." Petrel decided all on his own. "Well, that's not going to happen. That room is protected with a special password."
"Hail Giovanni!" the Murkrow in the corner announced.
"Yes," Petrel agreed. "The password is–"
"Faaaat bird," Murkrow squawked.
"NO, the password is not 'Fat Bird'!" Petrel decried, "You narcissistic fat bird!"
"Fat bird, fat bird, FAT BIRD!"
"ANYWAY," Petrel continued, ignoring the annoying bird pokemon, "the password is–"
"Hail Giovanni." The Murkrow finally got its act together. This time, however, the bird spoke in Petrel's voice instead of its usual squeaky squawk.
"Surprised to hear it from me?" Petrel gloated.
"But that wasn't you!" Lyra pointed at him incredulously. Just now... it was something else!
"–Knowing the password won't help you though. The door won't open unless I say the password." Petrel beat his chest with his fist arrogantly, ignoring her. "It only reacts to my voice."
"Th... This... What am I going to do?" Lyra panicked, holding her head. After a few moments of silent reflection, she smiled, visibly arriving at a viable conclusion. "I know... I'll rip out your voice box."
"THERE'S MANY REASONS WHY THAT IS WRONG," Petrel screamed in terror.
"Heh..." Lyra held her arms out, widening her stance. Sliding forward and growling, she cornered him– her prey.
"Wah! Zubat," Petrel yelled, throwing out a pokeball and trembling, "p-p-protect me!"
"...Typhlosion!" Lyra called out determinedly, punching forward. She then blinked, realizing that he was getting over-leveled. "...I'm calling you back now."
"Pffsh." He shrugged, allowing her to withdraw him back inside his pokeball.
"With an earnest face... bring about a whole new way of thinking–" Lyra blazoned, slamming down a pokeball and bursting it open. "Go! Dunsparce!"
"Zubat, Wing Attack!" Petrel commanded.
"Time to test the... special forbidden technique!" Lyra deepened, clenching her fists and raising them for the ceiling. "Seductive Sekshii Dunsparce Attract Attack!"
Putting on her 'battle face', Dunsparce tensed her eyes and flapped her tiny wings– ferociously shaking her squatty backside.
"That's not an attack." Petrel pointed at the snake. "It's just wiggling its butt."
"Nonsense," Lyra argued. "It's not just a butt...! It's her asset."
"I can't believe you just said that."
"Seeing is believing," Lyra laughed forcedly, ignoring the fact that her catchphrase didn't make any sense in context. "Look! Your Zubat can't resist Dunsparce's charm."
Pink hearts wafted over the lovestruck Zubat. Screeching, he opened his wide fanged mouth and flew into the wall, flapping and smacking against it blindly.
His confused struggling was a prime example of young love.
"Impossible!" Petrel frowned. "Your Dunsparce is a lying cheater..."
"Never! Dunsparce is a delicate woman," Lyra admonished. "Body Slam–"
Sailing through the air, Dunsparce raised her blue underbelly and collided into Zubat, bringing the bewildered creature toppling to the ground. Screeching painfully, he fainted.
"What's so delicate about that?...!" Petrel called Lyra out on her fraud. Determinedly, he slammed down his next pokeball. "Koffing–"
"Body Slam!" Lyra charged on, waging their battle further.
"You asked: 'About what?' Tch..." Silver said, turning his back on the pile of beat up Rocket grunts. "That's what."
"That kid is... tough," the most conscious grunt spoke, his limbs poking up from the mound of living and breathing defeat.
"Ugggh..." the grunt underneath him groaned. The last grunt wasn't even awake to say anything.
"I've wasted more than enough time here," Silver chuckled sinisterly, glancing down the hall. "But I did enjoy the therapy session... It seems you weaklings are good for something after all."
Leaving them behind, he bolted back up into the wall's hole– crawling into the dark passage.
"Irwin," Silver called out inconspicuously. "...Irwin?" No answer came, and after sticking his ear to the passage's floor, no sounds were heard. He left me! Silver realized, his bitterness returning. Hmph! Some 'friend' he is.
Setting aside his resentment, he crawled forward, trying to think where Ariana and that last Rocket grunt could've gone.
She said she had to go find that goofy idiot, Petrel... But he's notorious for playing around and never being where he's supposed to be, Silver reminisced. I don't get it... What potential did Dad ever see in that fool? To make him an Executive...
In the past, Silver remembered that his father would lavishly praise those whom he thought were exceptional. The Team Rocket Executive Class, even if it was designed for management purposes, eventually became just another reward for grunts to grovel over.
That's right... It got to the point where everyone wanted to become an Executive.
But instead of inspiring strength and success, this only inspired inner corruption and competition. Grunts were foiling each other's missions by handing out information to the public or by vandalizing each other's operations outright...
My father placed his trust in his organization, but in the end, their squabbling allowed them all to be defeated by a mere child.
"Trust," Silver thought aloud, losing himself further in the darkness of the vent.
That girl... and even that dragon trainer. They blindly trust in their pokemon, and in return, they're invincible. Their strength is so honest, that when it crushes you, you realize that your own strength was just an imitation.
From their point of view... trust is believing that something is strong and reliable no matter what. This itself is supposed to be a strength.
But something's missing... Trust alone didn't work for my father... is that where love comes in?
"This is making my head hurt..." Silver complained, crawling through an area where light poured in through several vents. I have plenty of other things to worry about... That's right. I have to think. There's two places where Ariana and Petrel could be–
"He won't pick up his intercom!" a familiar voice huffed. "He's not in any of the offices, and this place is a mess. ...Was it just my imagination, or was the computer lab on fire?"
"It was certainly on fire, madam."
"As I thought! I can't leave these buffoons unattended for even one moment... Tch!"
Crawling underneath the nearest vent, Silver listened closely to Ariana's ranting and her accompanying grunt's toadying.
"Should I page any remaining personnel?" the grunt asked.
"Yes. Do that," Ariana scoffed unhappily. "This is all going astray... Have them search for Executive Petrel. We need to get the Earth Badge Prototype and the makeshift Wave Amp to the Radio Tower... Scientist Gregg should be finished tinkering with it by now..."
"–Beep," The grunt had pushed the paging device on his belt. "Calling all Team Rocket Personnel–"
So they managed to scrape something together? Silver thought. So that's why they're going ahead with their plans... What ever they managed to build, I have to destroy that as well!
"Hello? Executive Ariana?" a nerdy voice sprang from the grunt's paging device. "I've built the Wave Amp to acceptable standards, but... I'm afraid the range will only carry out from Goldenrod to its immediate routes."
"Gregg? Only that far?" Ariana leapt in disbelief, carefully considering this sudden news. "I suppose... it's better than nothing..."
"But it's not done yet," the scientist interrupted, "I need the mini maser from the radio-transmittor room."
"Fine! I'll go get it for you," Ariana determined. "Just keep proceeding with the back-up plan."
"Yes. My apologies, Madam... Over and out."
"Let's move." Ariana forged ahead, making her accompanying grunt scramble to keep up.
The radio-transmittor room? Silver thought, crawling silently to keep after them. That must be the old storage room...
"FAT BIIIRD," Murkrow screamed in fear, smacking straight into Lance's boot.
"Fat bird?" Lance asked, gazing down at the flapping, squawking pokemon. Bending low, he scratched the side of its strange, brimmed head to comfort it. "Are you lost?"
"Hail... Giovanni..." Murkrow whispered and clicked.
"That's distasteful." Lance pulled away, frowning in disapproval. "Who taught you that?"
"The Kahuna!" Murkrow screeched and flapped, trying to tell Lance something critical. "Where's... Where's... Where's my pen?" Finished with its important message, Murkrow ran back the other way.
"It's... even more puzzling than Lyra," Lance concluded, furrowing his eyebrows.
"–I dare you to attack me," a heroic voice carried down the hall, "from any side!"
"Of course... Lyra–" Lance realized, hurrying after her.
"...So, it's time to finish you." Ariana smirked, agreeing with Lyra's recklessness. "However strong you may be, if the two of us fight at the same time, you'll have no chance of winning." She shot a glance at her accompanying grunt, who was helping her surround Lyra in front of the radio-transmittor room.
"Don't you agree?" Ariana asked the man, her smile gleeful. He nodded his head silently.
"It doesn't make a bit of difference," Lyra said, throwing her cape back and tilting her sunglasses. "You two. Go ahead and come at me, all at once."
"Hee hee hee!" Ariana threw her head back and laughed, hiding her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, baby. Now get ready to be thrashed."
Leaning forward, she signaled for her grunt to close in on Lyra. Complying, the man pulled a mini rocket launcher from his boot, sliding the gun's lever until it clicked.
"Hold it!" Lance dashed in, his Dragonite flying close behind as he jumped between. Shielding Lyra, he jabbed forward and bashed the weapon from the grunt's hand– sending it spinning across the floor like a top.
"A two-on-one battle?" Lance held his palm outward. "That is so unfair!"
"Lancer Dragoon!" Lyra called out adoringly, taking off her sunglasses to highlight the moment. "You've arrived!"
Clenching her fists beneath her chin, her abnormally large and glistening eyes bore into his soul, gazing at him expectantly.
"R...right!" Lance found himself tensely complying. "Justice rains from the heavens and lances my foes... Spear Cavalier, Lancer Dragoon! Hark! The Dragon Knight!" He threw back his cape, fluttering it outwards and raising his palm to the ceiling.
"Ke...ke... cooool!" Lyra grasped her face and squirmed. Lance is so awesome! Oh man! That was inspiring! ...He changed the script slightly, though.
"What? Another super hero?" Ariana gritted her teeth. "You've got to be kidding me..."
Turning his head, Lance shot a glare at the Rocket grunt, causing the man to flinch and pulled his cap over his eyes.
"Hm. Typical of Team Rocket to be so sneaky." Lance shook his head, fully comprehending to situation that Lyra had gotten herself into. "Allow me to join the battle!"
"Tch. I can't believe you had an accomplice," Ariana groused, referring to Lyra. "...Where is your sense of dignity?"
"WHERE'S YOURS?...!" Both Lance and Lyra accused her on cue.
"Stop ganging up on me!" Ariana blasted. "Grunts don't count!"
"Hey... I'm right here..." he murmured, deeply insulted by her words but too lowly to talk back.
"Grr... As interim boss in place of Giovanni," Ariana boasted, pulling out a pokeball, "I'll show you how wrong it is to meddle with Team Rocket!" Raising her other hand up, she snapped her fingers, initiating the battle.
"Right then... prepare yourselves!" Lyra threw her arms out. "Dunsparce–"
"Dragonite–" Lance rushed forward.
~To Be Continued...~
Great news! PhantomAlchemist made an... arting. It's part of the story's official art now. It's just been decided. Well, check it out!
phantomalchemist. deviantart. com / # / d39ximf
(Copy/paste and remove the spaces, ossu!)
Another short chapter, sorry... but updates should come faster from now on. See you later!