Returning to Goldenrod City once again, Silver trolled the neon-lit streets for any sign of his rival. "And to think," he said lowly, "I used to be good at this." Actively avoiding some drunk old men who'd likely just gambled away their children on Voltorb Flip, Silver bumped shoulders with a suspicious man in a chintzy blue tracksuit instead.
"Ow! Watch where yer going!" the man yelped, holding his arm. "Damn, you nearly broke my arm. Actually. I think you DID break my arm." He held out his greedy hand at Silver. "Pay me for the hospital fees, right here and now– 50,000 pokedollars– or else."
"Or else what?" Silver asked; "You'll let me break your face?"
Though the man's dark sunglasses and allergy mask hid his features, his greasy smile seeped through like an oil stain. "Listen kid, I know you think you're real tough stuff, but I'm a REAL bad guy," he said. "A villain beyond your wildest imaginings. So be good and pay up, or else something bad might happen to you, or maybe even a loved one."
Taking the man's hand, Silver dislocated the man's elbow in one fell snap– dropping him to the ground and relishing his blood-curdling screams. "50,000 per limb, right?" Silver asked in confirmation, placing his heel on the man's right knee cap; "What's that make it now? 100,000? How lucky. I'm always willing to shell out for good therapy. Why, I can go higher. Go for broke, as they say."
"I WAS WRONG PLEASE HAVE MERCY–"
"Hmph." Silver wiped his boot off on the man before pulling away. "Keep screaming like that and the cops will come for us. Now's a good time to run away and snap it back in place. Don't worry, the bone's still intact. For NOW."
The man– gasping senselessly as he rolled around in pain– took a real good look at Silver before scooting backwards in realization. "I know you!" he ejected. "You're that insane redheaded kid who kicked our antenna to bits!"
Leaning down, Silver yanked the man up by the neck of his track suit. "Antenna?" Silver asked.
"I mean tree!"
"Tree antenna?" Silver glared knowingly. "Team Rocket."
"Oh no…"
"I think I remember you now, too." Silver smirked, tightening his grip. "You're that phony Black Belt's partner– that guy who ran the cover shop over their HQ. Tell me. Where is Team Rocket now?"
Gulping, the man shook his head and trembled. "I can't say. I can't say."
"Oh but you CAN say." Silver vice-gripped the man's neck. "As long as you have a FRICKEN WINDPIPE. Huh? Talk!" He squeezed only lightly and his victim began crying so hard, Silver felt a little guilty.
"THE MAGNET TRAIN STATION," the man wailed; "Past the attendant, up the stairs, on the other side of the train platform. There's a floor grate. There's stairs underneath it. And a tunnel. Which goes to the old basement. PLEASE STOP."
Silver eased his grip. "You mean, the same old basement which used to be connected to Johto's Game Corner? It wasn't filled in after the bust?"
"Ye-yeah. Wait. You knew about it?"
"That basement," Silver said, letting go, "was just another dirty place to call home."
"Wha. Huh?" The man fell to his knees, wheezing. "Just… who are you?"
"That doesn't matter. What matters is that I crush Team Rocket. You gangsters are disgraceful, clinging together like filth. When I have the moment, I'll smash you all apart. That moment is now." He huffed and turned away. "Get in my way again and I'll destroy you." Leaving the man with these words, Silver set course to terrorize the train station– his thoughts of revenge fueled by urgency and paranoia– and his original intent marred by a desire to hide everything from Lyra.
Lyra, she has as much cause to fight them as I do, Silver thought, his eyes drifting to the black sky past the city lights; Even if she doesn't know it yet. Even if she doesn't know what Team Rocket did to her. But… She doesn't need to know. I'll make sure of it– that she'll never know.
Silver ran. And as uncool as he felt, he charged into the station and forced his way past the gate attendant, bullying him with physical threats until the man backed down.
Team Rocket! Silver thought; I'll tear them apart– their history and mine– before Lyra can find out about it. Then me and her, we can stay like this forever. Rivals. Because I'll make sure of it… Not even bad blood can get in the way.
Climbing to the top of the platform's stairs, Silver took a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his eyes. Stunned by the wind blowing down the train track's tunnel, and distracted by the thought of the man who died here long ago, he walked into someone– a squishy vinyl body which sent familiar chills down his spine. "Pftto!" he spat, stepping back. "Shit!" He trembled. "It's the giant woman! As prophesied by that bastard–"
"–Silence!" Clair slapped Silver and proceeded to scold him; "Giant woman this! Bastard that! Shits all around! Learn some damn manners and greet people properly, you little freak."
"Manners? Freak?" Silver flinched. "You're the one who dresses like a fugly blue bus SEAT."
"You have NO right to speak." She slapped him again, right across the cheek. "You red and purple eyesore! You color-wheel snafu!"
"H-hey, red and purple are PROUD and noble– urk–" Silver gurgled as Clair one-handedly grasped his head and squeezed it– much like a vegetable being selected for freshness.
"Enough nonsense," she said, nearly lifting him off his feet. "You are to aid me in attacking Team Rocket again. This is to compensate for your failure last time."
"Wha-what now," Silver blurted, smacking her hand away. "I don't remember any failure whatsoever on my part."
Clair chuckled haughtily. "Well that's understandable, considering I knocked your brain loose with that blast back then. Perhaps another one would set your memories straight?"
"There's no time to fight," Silver said nervously, smoothing back his mused hair. "I'm going after Team Rocket. You can come along if you'd like, but don't expect me to watch your back or anything."
Clair crossed her arms. "Likewise," she said. "Let's go."
Annoyed by the condescending way she was treating him, Silver stomped ahead– all the way to the far side of the platform– and easily lifted up the floor grate, tossing it aside like it was a slab of cardboard. "So there ARE stairs," he said to himself, taking a moment to reflect upon this. So Team Rocket had their basement reconnected to the train station, he thought, marching on down. They must've done that because they helped fund most of it. I wonder if Lyra's father knew… or if it happened later…
"You act like you know where you're going," Clair said, catching up to him.
"Hmph. Well maybe I do."
"Why are you even going after Team Rocket? I don't think I caught the reason last time. Does it have something to do with your own rival?"
"Hmph!" Silver picked up his pace. "Maybe it does!"
"Care to elaborate?"
"Care to mind your own business?"
"You little snot," Clair whacked the back of his head. "I ought to kick you down this long flight of stairs!"
"Ow! Stop hitting me!"
"Oh, that hurt? Wait until I DO kick you down this long flight of stairs."
"Listen," Silver snapped, stopping abruptly. "I don't need th–" Due to stopping mid-step, Clair bumped into him, and the both of them went tumbling down the long flight of stairs together– screaming and yelling the entire way.
When they landed at the bottom– with a loud plunk– Silver found himself smothered by the entirety of Clair's chest.
"Mffhhrg–" Silver struggled and muffled out, perturbed by how this was the SECOND TIME this thing has happened; "–hrnghh! Get OFF." He finally managed to pull his face free and complain.
Clair went red as she pushed herself halfway up. "I WILL, when you untangle yourself from me!" she declared angrily. Right when she raised her fist to brain him yet again, alarms began blaring wildly and red lights flashed from the eyes of the nearby persian statue.
"Hm, sentries," Silver said, calmly lifting Clair off of himself and then rudely tossing her aside.
Rolling, Clair jumped to her feet and ignored the slight. "I hear them coming," she said. "You take care of the ones coming! I'll get the ones at the end." She ran ahead, her black cape flying behind her.
"I told you I WOULDN'T watch your back," Silver stood up and yelled at her, enraged all the more when she continued going without even bothering to answer him. "HEY, I'm talking to YOU, you cosplaying superhero HEAD CASE."
She growled at him from the far end of the hall. "I'm NOT cosplaying, this is called bodycon fashion!" she screamed. "You UNCULTIVATED BUTTWRENCH."
Silver lurched at this impressive insult. "OH YEAH?" he shouted back. "WELL YOU'RE STUPID."
"DITTO."
Team Rocket troops swarmed in and Silver charged ahead, tripping and socking them before the majority could send out their pokemon. When a few Koffing and Zubat managed to slip through and attack, though, he sent out Sneasel and had him shred up the enemy with sharp-clawed Fury Swipes and blasts of Icy Wind.
In the distance, Clair fought her own herd of Team Rocket grunts. With Kingdra now by her side, she punched and slammed heads together, all before raising her arm up in the air and belting out, "Waterrrr–" Stepping backwards, she directed Kingdra– who rode on a water stream all around her– towards their enemies; "–Dragon!"
Voices cried out under the relentless torrent, and when the spray was done mowing down the Rocket Grunts and soaking down the basement floor and walls, Clair and Kingdra emerged poised and victorious.
What the, Silver thought, sweating slightly as he finished decking his last Grunt. There it is again! It's like she's using magic or something… Or could it be… that she's just synchronizing her movements with her pokemon's attacks? If so, why? I don't understand the meaning of such a useless act… With this last stubborn thought, Lance's words from that shameful battle came back and belittled Silver again.
"You can't get stronger as you are now," Lance had said; "You can't until you're able to properly connect with your pokemons' hearts. Nothing can grow strong until it is nurtured and respected– and you seem unable to do either of those things."
Silver huffed and frowned at this nagging memory. Does this mean, that to become stronger, I have to synchronize with my pokemon like that? he wondered. But still. I don't even know where to begin.
Running up ahead, Silver arrived at Clair's heels and the two of them faced a locked door. "I got a password from one of the Grunt's," Clair said, hovering her hand over the keypad and typing it in. With a melodious chime, the door opened and Clair stalked forward. When she noticed that Silver hadn't moved, she stopped and regarded him. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"That thing you do," Silver said, his arms still at his sides. "Where you fight alongside your pokemon as one… what is that? Is that what makes you and Lance strong?"
Clair smirked proudly. "I see you've recognized our superior technique," she said, motioning to Kingdra. "That little attack just now was perfected by me, but it's true that the Dragon Master clan specializes in pokemon synchronization. By connecting with your pokemons' hearts and souls," she paused, her eyes flashing with fierce determination, "you can unleash incredible power."
"No way," Silver said, unable to believe it. "It doesn't make any sense. I can't control the elements like they can… How can I be part of all that?"
"By channeling it from them to you. For instance, if a ghost-type can go through walls, have it take you with it. If a fire-type can manipulate its flames, have it envelope your fists so your strikes will burn. This may sound impossible already, but it's even more of a challenge for the reverse. There are times when your pokemon will need you to channel your very energy, luck, and concentration to them so they can overcome their own enemies."
Silver gulped at this. Shouting battle cries with everything and becoming increasingly intense and focused with every hit… Is this what Lyra does already? he wondered, recounting their past battles, all of which her team seemed invincible in.
"If you don't understand right now, it's fine," Clair said, walking on. "Just stand back and watch. I accept any student who resolutely undertakes my direction in the clan's arts, outsider or not. After all, I am Clair, the world's best Dragon-type master… and Leader of the unbeatable Blackthorn City Gym."
"So you're," Silver said, shocked that he didn't figure out sooner, "the highest-ranked Gym Leader in all of Johto…?"
When Clair pushed her way into the next room, Silver followed, the two of them finally working together.
Back at Mahogany Town's Ice-type Gym, Pryce stared Lyra down and then confidently regarded her Super Sunflora. "Sorry lass," he said, closing his age-creased eyes and laughing into the chilly wind, "but I'm not waiting another 'episode', or whatever it is you kids called it nowadays. Piloswine, it's time to turn this good weather around." He raised his free arm, directing his wooly behemoth to charge. "Overpower this Sunny Day with your Hail!"
"Uah!" Lyra gasped, her mouth hanging open for a split second. I can't let that hail hit, she thought, or else Sunflora will be unable to fully utilize her ultimate attack! "Sunflora," Lyra yelled, quivering and becoming enraged, "Crush the atoms! Unleash the power of the power of the power of the sun! Special attack, Solar Beamuu–"
"–Power of the power of the power?" Pryce repeated, sweating despite the battle field's frigid temperature. "Wow, that's a lot of power…" He quickly eyed Piloswine and noticed that the behemoth was taking too long to charge up and release hail. "Now! Hurry!"
Shaking up the air with absorbed energy, Kneebiter let out a wild yell which shook and overtook every sound wave with its reverberation. "SUNFLO–" she screamed through her forever-smiling mouth, rocking the heavens– or at least the gym rafters– with her overflowing fervor and overwhelming power level, "–RAA!"
At once, a golden blast let up from Kneebiter's body and piled forward, rushing at Piloswine and plowing through him as a beam. Lyra and Pryce grunted, wincing and shielding their eyes from the incredible light flooding out all around. Pushed backwards by the terrible energy force, the two of them crooked their elbows and held still, bending their knees to keep from flying away.
"Erghh!" Pryce gasped, unable to believe what was happening; "Such horrendous power. In all my years of battling, never have I seen such ferocity unleashed from such a small pokemon. If this keep going on, this entire gym will be rifted apart!"
When the light from the attack subsided, Pryce uncovered his eyes and found that Piloswine had fainted and that his prediction was nearly spot on. "There's a hole," he said, turning around, fully conscious of the broken wall behind him. "You left a hole in my gym!" he declared, unnerved by the gaping opening which led outside. As the gym's chilled inner air mixed with the tepid, autumn night's breeze, the wind became ferocious and the two trainers faced each other, their capes and scarves fluttering rapidly in its midst (and with no effort at all).
Kneebiter, still glowing under the artificial sun made by Typhlosion's Sunny Day, gasped and wheezed as her Solar Powered ability sustained its might and took its effects on her health.
"Sorry for the mess, old man," Lyra said, sweating and doubling-over in shared pain with Kneebiter. "If your gym insurance doesn't cover the damages here, you can talk it over with my insurer in Ecruteak. He's the director at the Dance Hall there."
Astonished by Lyra's concern for his property– especially since she'd just willingly blown it up– Pryce let out a great laugh. "Humph…" he emitted, regaining his composure and recalling Piloswine's keeled over form. "You are quite the trainer." At this rate, he thought, selecting his last pokeball, it would be easy to believe that I was about to lose. But. I've been training pokemon since before she was born! Yes, I do not lose easily. The hardships I've overcome during my long life, they prove this!
"Dewgong, it's up to you–" Pryce let out, throwing down and unleashing his last fighter, "–Go all out and counter with your Aurora Beam!"
"Kneebiter–" Lyra boomed, clenching her fists as she watched her weary warrior– who was now in need of encouragement, "–Being content with just trying is something only the ordinary must do! But you're no ordinary Kneebiter– for you– there is no trying– there is only doing. Doing what can't be done– and doing exactly that– and completely like you naturally can!" Sweeping her fists outwards, she braced herself for the final blast. "Like a thousand volts of solar power coursing through our entire bodies– I can instantly feel your courageous purpose, and your SUPREME will to fight!"
Invigorated by this battle summation, Kneebiter glowed radiantly and filled with courage. "Sun," she said, focusing on what had to be done. Up ahead, Dewgong was building up for his counter beam attack and whipping up a vacuum with his temperature shift.
"Go go–" Lyra yelled, throwing herself forward in anticipation, "–Solar, Beamuu!"
"–FLO RA RA–" Kneebiter shrieked, enveloping the gym with one last burst of light, and flooding everything with energy– all the way up and out to the real heavens this time.
The ensuing explosion was heard for miles and miles.
In the lost underground basement, Clair and Silver battled their way forward, bullying Grunt after Grunt and blowing through doors with Silver's knowledge of the place. When the two happened upon a room lined with dusty, heavy old seats (and which was a noticeable dead-end), Silver sat down in one and appeared to engage in deep thought. After a few seconds, however, he switched to another seat.
Clair, puzzles by Silver's behavior, stood nearby him and watched– and after the third seat, asked him: "Little punk, what are you doing?"
After a second of rumination, Silver finally spoke. "In one of these chairs," he snapped, "is a weak cushion." After sitting on the most recent one, he sprung up and began pushing the back of the heavy chair. As soon as he did, it slid out from under his hands and went along on its own track, rewarding him with an 8-bit melody and a secret staircase in the floor, which opened up on the other side of the room.
"Hm, nice one," Clair complimented, impressed by his success. "Wait," she then added, doubly aware of what it also meant. "How did you know about all this?"
Silver went for the stairs without any hesitation. "Magic," he answered.
"Nonsense! Really, how did you know?"
Silver tucked his hands into his jacket pockets as he went down the stairs, (which was clearly just asking for another accident to happen). "How do I know? I kicked it out of a thug," he said.
Clair nodded, almost ready to accept this reasonable-enough (at least to her) excuse, but then she had a flash of insight. "Hold it, if that's true," she said, "what about all the other things, like all the paths, gates, and switches you knew how to go through and operate in the correct order? Not even Team Rocket knew, if I recall correctly, since they had to wait for the floor plans to show up at their cave campout!"
Silver exhaled at her persistence. "Then I also kicked that out of a thug." Silver was aware that his explanation was falling apart, but he was too proud to admit that he might as well be that imaginary kicked thug. When they reached the next basement level, however, Silver realized that he couldn't continue hide the truth about himself, for standing before them at the bottom was his very own step-mother, Rocket Executive Ariana.
The iron-jawed woman, standing forcibly before them, gripped the pokeballs on her belt and seemingly guarded her lead scientist, Greg, who worked hastily on soldering something to an opened-up boom box-like device in the corner.
I remember that thing, Silver thought, watching the scientist work. Isn't it that Wave Amp they scrapped together for their back-up plan? Could it be a pokemon mind-control device?
"How nice of you to join us," Ariana said, her mouth twitching from the severe smile she was forcing to hold. "I heard a brat and a woman were up causing trouble on B1… of course I knew it was you! But yet, who's this?" She pointed to Clair. "I thought you already had a girlfriend, and a younger one at that… Or are you just that much like your father?"
"Cut the crap," Silver said, angered by her words. "You caught the attention of the Pokemon League, so I let in the region's top Gym Leader as my back-up."
Clair didn't like this claim at all. "You've got it the other way around, little punk," she mentioned.
"I told you I wasn't watching your back, so deal with it."
Though initially worried by her step-son's claims, Executive Ariana threw back her head and cackled. "Seems there's a divide of power between our so-called heroes!" she said with high elation. "If you're so self-assured, then answer this… If the great and powerful League wants to stop the dangerous resurgence of Team Rocket, why did they only send in a lowly Gym Leader?"
Chuckling once, Clair crossed her arms. "Because that's all it takes to stop you weaklings," she said, closing her eyes. "Oh yes, I went there."
Silver did the same. "What she said, but with more feeling," he said.
Red-faced and belittled, Ariana began to fume and shake with a terrible temper. "What nerve! Acting so righteous, just because you're destroying everything your father stood for!" she yelped. "How did you become such a cowardly little backstabber?"
"Cowardly?" Silver spat, stepping forward. "I'm not the one CLINGING to the puffed-up illusion of a has-been man. When will you finally get it? He never cared about you or me or Mars– or even my real mother. All he cared about was his crap supremacy! Get it through your STUPID pointy head and stop being a criminal in his place… You're better off without him."
Inhaling sharply, Ariana began to gurgle and nearly break down in tears from his cruel but all-too-true words. Instead, she unhitched the pokeball she had her hand on and sent out Arbok, who plopped out onto the floor and slid forward, raising her giant fanned head and roaring.
"I understand now," Clair said to Silver, having quietly considered everything she just overheard. "I understand why you're after Team Rocket now." She nodded at him. "I'll help you in any way I can."
Silver threw down Haunter's pokeball and gestured at him to attack. "Shadow Ball," he yelled, looking back at Clair. "If you want to help, get the scientist," he told her. "That thing he's working on is dangerous. Destroy it."
Getting on it, Clair ran past the battle, causing Ariana to yell at Gregg and force the frazzled scientist to jump up and attack Clair with his under-leveled Magnemite.
In response, Clair called out Dragonair, readied herself, and began chanting her brutal Dragon Slave spell, which Silver realized was actually crafted from Dragonair's DragonBreath attack.
"W-wait," Silver said, his body tensing up automatically upon her deliberate recital. "I said destroy the machine, not the whole reeking basement!"
"Dragonnn–" Clair bellowed, ignoring his every word, "–Suh-lave!"
Beneath the sounds of Gregg, Silver, and Ariana's screams, particles blasted apart and the basement popped from the inside out.
The ensuing explosion was heard for miles and miles.
~To be continued…~
Yes, now I can finally tackle the Radio Tower in the next chapter *holds face and cries*
This was going to be my reverse birthday gift, but it was finished a week early so why wait. Heck, I'll even edit it later. Screw professionalism! This is what it means to fanfic jglkfjkflj
