Chapter Two

"Bah?"

The Dragonite was staring at his trainer in confusion as he searched the lab, opening drawers, pushing aside papers and dishes in his search. The place wasn't dirty, merely unorganized, though usually the professor had no struggle in locating the items he needed. After a moment he found what he was looking for, holding up a pair of scissors– and his Dragonite looked even more confused.

"We don't need to draw any unneeded attention to the boy," Samuel explained, turning his attention towards the couch at the back of his lab.

Sitting upon the cushions was the unconscious teen they had found in the woods. He looked much better than when they had first found him– his cuts having been treated and the dirt having been cleaned from off of him. His injured wrist had been bound in a temporary brace, as to not make the injury worse if he were to suddenly awake. But still his skin was very pale and covered in bruises, and of course he was still unconscious. But right now the main concern for the professor was the 'R' on his shirt.

"Roo..." Barney rumbled uncertainly, the dragon standing over the teen as the professor approached.

"He's young," The professor explained, pulling the material of the shirt away from the boy's skin, and began to use the scissors to cut away the 'R'. "And the last thing he'll need is everyone against him once he wakes up. Daisy will be back soon, and Forrest could come barging in at anytime. They don't need to know that he's associated... with that group."

A look of bitterness crossed the man's face as he looked down at the 'R' now clutched in his hands, and he let out a long sigh. He slipped the symbol of Team Rocket into his pocket, setting the scissors aside. The boy's clothes were already ripped and torn, so he'd need new ones anyways, so no one should think too much about the missing piece. Besides, their focus needed to be on helping him, nothing else.

"I'll send Aquila to Viridian City to pick up some supplies," He muttered to no one in particular– Barney's focus solely on the boy. "If he wakes up and we're able to get some water in him I should be able to treat him here..."

Doctors were far and few on the outskirts of Kanto– only the larger cities having clinics. Pokemon Centers were equipped to treat minor wounds for trainers and locals, but tiny Pallet Town lacked even that. The town had come to rely on him for both their Pokemon and their own injuries, and as such he had picked up a few tricks over the years. Perhaps a more thriving region would look down on an unofficial doctor practicing medicine, but he had done it for so many years that he didn't even blink at the idea.

"Bah," Barney said, the Dragonite nudging the boy's legs. He carefully tapped his ankle with the back of his claws, looking towards the professor– who had once again began to search his lab.

"If it's serious we'll rush him straight to Pewter's clinic," He replied, thinking that was the dragon type's concern. "But I believe he simply pushed himself to exhaustion, probably got lost..."

Did his presence mean that there were more Rockets in the area around Pallet Town? That wasn't a comforting thought, such a small town would be an easy target, especially with no local law enforcement. Not that his team couldn't handle a few grunts and their Pokemon, but he'd rather that nothing happened in the first place. Perhaps he should send Nero and Alex out to patrol, just in case. Of course neither of them had wings, but Barney and Aquila would just be targets for such a group considering their rarity.

"Bah!"

"...Does the boy have any Pokeballs on him?" The professor suddenly asked, turning around. He remembered the Rattatas that had been near the boy– they hadn't chased off his Pokemon, had they? Or if he did have a Pokemon on him it just might need treatment like him. He strolled over to the couch once more, hesitating at the idea of just going through a stranger's pockets, but it wouldn't be fair to leave a Pokemon injured if he did have one with him. Or if he had a weapon he didn't want to leave it with the Rocket.

The teen didn't have a Pokebelt on him, nor a Pokeball on any kind with him in his pockets. The only item Oak found on him in his search was a keycard, complete with a picture and a name– but he knew that the identification wasn't the boy's, considering it showed a picture of an older man with the words Carl Tambert, Team Rocket Head Scientist written across it. Samuel's grasp on the keycard tightened as he read these words, gaze shifting to stare at the picture intently– but he didn't recognize the man.

"Lose your job, Fuji?" Samuel muttered.

Closing his eyes, he looked away, letting out a long sigh. The keycard wasn't the boy's– so had the boy found it? Stolen it? But why would a Rocket grunt steal from his own organization? Perhaps that's why he was left out in the woods? By if that was the case then why didn't they take the keycard back?

"Bah!" Barney snapped– pulling Samuel out of his thoughts. He looked up, and saw that the Dragonite was tapping something that was around the boy's ankle. Frowning, the professor approached the two of them, looking down at a black band strapped across the boy's ankle.

"What on earth?" Samuel muttered, knowing right away it wasn't a fashion statement of any kind. The band had a plastic shell and scarlet text printed across it. The professor attempted to slide it off from the teen to get a better look, but the band was too small to do so. There was no mechanism to even loosen the band, as if it weren't meant to come off. The shape almost reminded him of a watch, a thicker section on part of the strap, but no face to tell the time.

It was on this section he found that part of the shell had been cracked open, revealing damaged electronic wiring. The damage had clearly been done on purpose, destroying the mechanism inside. With a frown the professor reached for his scissors again, attempting to cut the band from off of him.

The plastic shell cracked, but the scissors hit metal as they tried to cut through the band– a strip of metal was hidden away within the shell. He pulled back slightly, eyes flickering across the boy once more.

"Is this some kind of tracking device?" He muttered, staring at the ankle monitor in confusion.

And the familiar red 'R' on it showed it wasn't from the police.

But why would Team Rocket be tracking their own members– especially some teenage boy? He knew the high ranking members were powerful, would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. But the grunts were nothing but common thieves, pawns to the organization– so why would they use their resources to track a grunt?

Did they see him as a threat? A mere child? And if so would they just... get rid of him? As sickening as the thought was, that's what he would expect from Team Rocket. Could there be some other reason he had been left to the elements? Or was he just over thinking this whole thing?

"Red'," Samuel read, eyes scanning the only word on the band outside of the Team Rocket 'R'. Was it a code? A name? Just a brand?

Again, he looked over the boy, at the visible scars along his upper arms and neck. At first he had given them no thought, but to see such wounds on a child... And the gray apparel, at first he had been thinking a grunt, but he was quite sure they wore black. And he had an ankle monitor, as if this was someone they wanted to keep track of. And then a keycard that wasn't his, possibly stolen...

Perhaps this wasn't a member of Team Rocket at all?

"Maybe I'm just being hopeful..." He muttered, the professor pulling back with a sigh. "But either way, I'm going to help you, kid. Keep an eye on him, Barney, let me know if his condition changes," He looked down at the keycard in his hand one more time, shaking his head. "We're going to need something to get that monitor off of him, and to make sure the tracking device was properly destroyed... I don't need any Rockets showing up at my lab."

The Dragonite let out a rumble of agreement, looking down at the unconscious boy in concern.

Crash!

Professor Oak flinched as he heard the loud thump from upstairs, eyes glancing upwards. He had been going through several of the files he had stashed away in the basement, these filing cabinets covered in dust from having been tucked away for so long. For a moment he thought that Barney was knocking everything over as he normally did, but he had returned the Dragonite to its Pokeball earlier. With a sigh he tucked the files under his arm, and made his way towards the stairs.

He didn't hear anything else, no footsteps or the sounds of anyone moving about. The stairs creaked as he made his way up, the crowded lab meeting his gaze as he crested the final step. Everything was just as he left it, papers and tools scattered about on counters and tables, half finished projects just sitting out.

His gaze immediately shifted towards the couch where he had left the boy– which was empty. The teenager was now on the ground, wide eyes staring right at the professor. He wasn't sure if he had woken up and fallen off the couch, or if falling off was what had awoken him, but all that mattered was that he was now awake. His bright eyes were lit with panic, one hand clutching his injured wrist as he stared at the professor.

"You're awake," Samuel said, relief running through him. The boy flinched slightly as he spoke, but didn't shift overwise from where he had fallen. Professor Oak cleared his throat, trying to remind himself that the kid had no idea of how he had gotten here. "I'm Professor Samuel Oak, me and my granddaughter found you collapsed in the forest this morning."

No reply.

"We brought you here. You're currently in Pallet Town, in my lab."

The boy flinched as he said 'lab', eyes widening. His gaze shot around the room– before locking right back onto the professor as he took a step forward. He inched back, pressing himself against the couch, and Samuel paused.

"We need to get some water in you, I'm not sure when's the last time you've had a proper drink," He turned, heading over towards the sink, searching for a glass of some kind. "Judging by your condition you were about there for a few days."

Silence.

He held back a sigh, deciding he needed to give the kid a few more minutes to get used to his surroundings. He headed back towards the couch, a glass of water now in hand. Still the teen had yet to move, his head jerking up as the professor drew close. This time he didn't pause though, merely holding out the glass to him. A pair of bright red eyes peered up at him, the vibrant color being one he had never seen in a human before. His gaze was intense, full of a raw fear, but still he reached out with his good hand to take the cup. He drained it in just a few gulps, panting as he pulled the empty glass away.

"Why don't you sit down," Samuel said, taking the cup as he nodded towards the couch. He went to fill up the glass once more, and by the time he turned around the boy was up on the couch, head angled towards the ground. He hadn't even heard the boy move, but was glad he was getting a response that wasn't a stare. "Can you tell me your name?"

Red eyes looked up at him as he offered the water once more. The boy made no effort to reply, simply accepting the outstretched glass and draining it again.

"That's fine, you can tell me later," Samuel said as he once again took the empty cup, knowing there was no point in pushing him. "May I at least look at your wrist now that you're awake? You're probably going to need more than that brace if its broken."

The boy had been cradling his left swollen wrist to his chest, clutching it with his good hand. He hesitated at the request, but after a moment he shakily held out his hand. The professor frowned, the expression on the boy's face making it seem as if he didn't want to do so, but yet he hadn't put up any kind of fight.

He was careful as he slipped off the brace, but still the boy flinched as he touched his hand. He turned it over, frowning slightly, but decided that it wasn't sprained. Usually sprained joints tended to swell up much more than this, complete with some nasty bruises. And while there were bruises across his body, his wrist only had a few. But it didn't look broken either... probably a mild fracture. With that he pulled away from the boy, beginning to search the lab for something to bind the joint with before he put the brace back on.

The silence lingered while he worked, no response from the teen except for an occasional flinch as he shifted the wrist. He stared down at the bandage and brace now over his wrist to keep it from being jostled about. Except for the occasional flicker in his direction, the boy's eyes never made contact with him, clearly preferring to keep them locked on the ground. That's why the professor took notice when he saw that the boy was staring at something, and followed his gaze to the broken ankle monitor resting on the table.

"I hope you don't mind, but I cut that off of you while you were sleeping," The professor said slowly, and the teen reached down to touch his now-free ankle. "Took me a while to find something that could snip through the metal, and it seems you did well with destroying the tracking mechanism. Well, I'm assuming you're the one that did that."

The boy studied him, before he gave him the smallest of nods. He was surprised that he was getting an answer, but was careful to keep himself composed.

"...Was Team Rocket the one to put that on you?" Samuel hesitated before asking this question, but he needed to know. He needed to understand the boy's connection with the organization, why he was wearing the logo. He needed to know if he was a danger to this town, or someone that needed shelter.

Bright crimson eyes regarded him, hesitant and wary. After a few moments of the staring Samuel assumed he wasn't going to get another answer– but then the boy nodded. He swiftly looked away after, hand touching his chest, fingering where Team Rocket's logo had once been on his clothes. He seemed mildly surprised to see the 'R' was gone, but soon took notice of the other tears in his clothes as well.

A child, Team Rocket had been tracking a child. Okay, perhaps he wasn't a child, but still he was young. But why would Rocket do that? They definitely wouldn't waste resources on just tracking random members, and this wary boy most definitely didn't seem like one of Team Rocket's thieving members. Samuel reached over, picking up the ankle monitor, looking over it once more. It was small, but definitely wasn't cheap, so they clearly must have had some reason for tracking this boy.

"Could you please give me your name?" Samuel asked again, wondering if the League perhaps had any information on him. Was he someone considered as missing? Or perhaps someone that had been labeled as being part of Rocket?

The boy merely pointed at the device in his hand, and with a frown Samuel read the words on band. There was the 'R' of Team Rocket, alongside a string of numbers and a single word: "'Red'– all of which he had seen earlier. With a frown Samuel glanced back at the boy.

The boy nodded at the device again.

"...Red?" Samuel said aloud.

Another nod.

The professor's frown deepened. "...Red? That's your name?" This was met by another confirming nod, and the professor brushed a thumb over the lettering. "So then... Red. I have more questions for you, but I believe we have more important things to worry about. You need food and rest, and of course time for your body to recover. But I hope you don't mind me asking you one more thing– if Team Rocket was tracking you, then I'm guessing that this wasn't put on you willingly. That means you aren't apart of them, right?"

The only reason they'd be tracking someone is if they thought they were someone who would try to leave.

Red furrowed his brow together at this question, hesitating. He looked at the broken tracking device, before letting his gaze shift to the floor. He seemed to consider the question for a time, and then finally he looked back up at the professor. He could see the fear in his gaze, and the clear distrust. The fact that the boy was answering his questions was actually surprising him, considering that he had yet to even muster the courage to speak.

Finally, Red gave another nod– he was not apart of them.

The professor was well aware that Red could be lying to him, that he could actually be a member of Team Rocket and could very well be someone that he did not want in his lab– let alone his town. But he found himself believing the kid, and it was more than just giving Red the benefit of the doubt. The fear in his eyes had been clear whenever he mentioned Team Rocket, and the way he pulled back was just not how a hardened thief should act. This was just a child, and the injuries on him simply showed he had a much bigger story to tell than the small nods he had given.

Besides, Samuel knew what it was like to want to get away from Team Rocket.

"You stay here and rest," Professor Oak said softly. "And I'll go get you something to eat."

Red didn't reply, just staring at the floor.

Everything in Red was screaming at him to run.

A man in a lab coat, the fact that he was in a laboratory– none of these should be a comfort. He had come to know that these kind of people meant danger, but he had also come to learn that they were not someone to disobey. Father was the one that assigned him to them, and Father's orders left no room for argument.

Except for this man couldn't be part of Team Rocket.

He wore no 'R' on his lab coat, and this so called 'lab' was nothing like the pristine labs he had spent so much time in. This place was much too small to be apart of any base, and if he had truly been found by Team Rocket... he knew they wouldn't be treating his wounds. Not after what he had done...

He had released Mewtwo.

Mewtwo's betrayal stung, but it did not surprised him in the slightest. He knew of the hybrid's history, that it had blood on its hands from the moment it had control over its powers. Its hatred for humans, for Team Rocket, had been ingrained into it from its youth. Humans had tortured it, had bound and restrained it, had been the very ones to create it. For it to turn against a human, to use him as it had been used... it was nothing but expected.

Its sheer hatred for Team Rocket, for being compared to the group, had been the only reason why it had spared him.

That was what had hurt, the fact that the being he had put so much trust in had refused to put any amount of trust into him. When Mewtwo could see his thoughts, his intentions, when it had known that he had planned on following through on their deal... it still hadn't trusted him.

Red knew that he shouldn't be dwelling on the creature though– he should be focusing on what was happening now. He was free, he had managed to escape the base alive. He had spent a few days struggling through the wilds of Kanto, drinking from rivers and stealing food from Pokemon, but that too was now over. He was in Pallet Town... wherever that was, but for the moment he was safe.

Not that he trusted this strange older man, but he had made no effort to hurt him.

He had offered Red a bag of trail mix to eat, promising to give him a 'real' meal as soon as it was ready, but food was food. He pulled nuts and dried berries from the bag one piece at a time with his good hand, making no rush despite the pain in his stomach. The trail mix was making him thirsty again, but despite seeing the sink across the room he didn't stand. He didn't know where the professor had gone, and didn't want him to return to find him elsewhere than where he had been told to be.

He would stay here for now, he'd do what the man said and answer his questions– and he'd more than willingly take the food and water he was given. But the moment he saw his chance, Red had every intention of getting out of here.

The boy paused as he placed a dried berry in his mouth, a strange feeling washing over him. He raised his head as he sensed the unfamiliar presence, his crimson eyes darkening. He shot a glance around the lab, but had yet to see anyone, but he heard the small tapping of claws. A few papers rustled, and he saw an orange blur of something racing off of the counter and out of sight. Immediately he tensed, and he could feel a foreign curiosity in the air. Again he heard a tapping of claws, before it came to a stop.

He mentally reached out towards the Pokemon, a wave of emotions washing over him as he did so. He could sense its interest, the curiosity easily being the strongest emotion it radiated. Unlike him the Pokemon didn't seem wary at all, just a pulsing happiness surrounding it as it came closer.

A pair of bright blue eyes peer out from the table in the center of the room, the Pokemon looking towards him. Red stared back at the orange creature, who let out a small chirp of greeting in his direction. He didn't offer any response to the Pokemon, but it smiled happily as if he had, revealing a row of sharp teeth. It slunk around the table, slowly drawing closer to him.

It wasn't a species he recognized, but still Red took in everything he could about it. Small, round orange scales covered his entire form, a long tail swinging behind him as he crept forward on all fours. Sharp white claws curled out from his hands and legs, clicking as he headed across the tiled floor. A bright red flame crackled at the end of his tail, and his bright blue eyes were locked right on Red.

Fire type, a good strong typing, though they struggled greatly against their weaknesses. Longer front claws suggested it favored a closer fighting style, and probably relied on slashing-based attacks. Red shuddered at this thought, but still didn't pull his gaze away from the Pokemon. It was small, but seemed that it would be speedy in a fight. He extended his mental reach, but met no resistance as he grasped the emotions around the Pokemon, slowly pressing his own emotions into its mind. The easiest for him had always been fear, and right away the Pokemon stiffened up in response. Blue eyes widened, the cheerful expression fading as a low whimper filled the room. The Pokemon pressed up against his legs, attempting to seek comfort as the fear took hold.

Red blinked, slightly started that he still had met no resistance, and he withdrew his mental hold. Immediately the Pokemon relaxed, confusion in his gaze as he looked around. The lizard glanced up at him, as if asking him what had just happened, but the boy gave him no response. The fire type didn't seem concerned, jumping up onto the couch next to him, smacking his lips. He was staring at the bag of trail mix, before looking up at Red hopefully.

He reached into the bag, pulling out another dried berry and offering it to the small Pokemon. White claws snapped out, grabbing it from his hand and stuffing it into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he swallowed, tail swinging side to side.

"Char~" The Pokemon called up happily, and he looked towards the bag again.

Red offered him another berry, which he gulped down just as quickly. He then looked towards the bag for the third time, which made Red frown. He closed his eyes, linking his mind to the Pokemon once more, before carefully impressing the feeling of being full into the small creature's head. A scarlet eye cracked open, and he found that the lizard had lost interest in the food– sniffing at the bag– before curling up next to him, a happy rumble running through him. He didn't mind the Pokemon lingering near him though, knowing he could easily turn it against any threat if the need arose.

"Charmander, you're not bothering our guest, are you?"

Both Red and the Charmander stiffened upon hearing Professor Oak's voice, the small lizard raising his head with an apologetic smile. Red kept his gaze locked on the ground, waiting to see what would happen next. Would the man demand more answers from him? He seemed to have an endless supply of questions.

"Just shove him away if he's giving you too much trouble," The professor said as he entered the main room of the lab, glancing over several folders. "He's an attention seeker, but he means no harm."

Red said nothing.

"Ms. Leaf has agreed to bring you over a proper meal, which is a good thing considering my cooking tends to resemble a Grimmer," He let out a light chuckle, which Red found strange. He had been so serious when he had first awoken, but now his words seemed more casual. The sudden shift was only making him more wary.

Charmander climbed into Red's lap, pawing at the bag of trail mix.

"You called for me, sir?"

Dark eyes shifted towards the figure that had just entered the room, the teal haired man swiftly going into a bow as his boss's eyes locked on him. The room was dim as the man regarded him, a Persian pacing impatiently in front of his desk. Silence settled into the room, not even the sound of the Pokemon's footsteps being heard.

"I have just gotten a call from the League," The man said after a moment, his tone cold. "It seems they have caught word of the... 'explosion' that took place at the base, and as the closest gym leader they are sending me to investigate."

"I see, sir," The teal haired man hesitated before replying, not sure of what his boss wanted from him.

"As such, I will need to leave for some time," The man pushed himself to his feet, his Persian pausing from its pacing. "The gym is to remained closed, and while I am away you shall be in charge, Proton."

Proton's eyes widened slightly at this, a smiling crawling up onto his face. He remained bowing, however, but couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice. "I will not fail you, Giovanni, sir."

Giovanni closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. Proton was an efficient worker, but at times just a bit too eager to please. He knew that the admin had been waiting for any chance to prove himself, jumping onto any opportunity that came his way. That was why he was stationed at the gym in the first place, having been the first one to volunteer.

He was a loyal worker, however. Even as a grunt he had been set on the idea of Team Rocket's glory itself, and not just his own gain. Giovanni had been monitoring him for sometime now, seeing if he would be someone worth promoting. He wasn't the only one he had his eye on however, other names having popped up throughout Team Rocket. A man named William had been getting high praise from his executives, and Grey had shown nothing but pure loyalty for years.

But all of this had fallen out of Giovanni's concern ever since the escape of Project M2.

The clone's escape had been the largest blow the organization had faced in years. Not only was the creature a project he had invested millions into, but he had invested just as much in keeping it contained.

Every since Project M2's escape, the leader of Team Rocket had been in anything but a good mood. This wasn't the first time the clone had escaped, and just like the first time it broke free it had claimed dozens of lives– lives that had been quite useful to Team Rocket, but were now gone. It had taken years to recapture, and the most advanced technology to withstrain it. He had been able to hold it bound for many years now, and the fact that it had escaped was as if all that time had been thrown away, all for nothing.

And while one of his most advanced bases had been destroyed, and while he had lost many valuable workers, one thing he had not lost was knowledge. After losing the Pokemon Mansion, Giovanni had learned not to keep data stored in one place. They had been set back so far the first time Mewtwo had escaped, including how the clone had been created in the first place. And with Blaine dead, the man behind it all was gone as well.

But now every piece of data, every experiment and action was stored where he could access it. The entire base may have been destroyed, dozens may have been killed, and the clone may have been free, but the situation wasn't hopeless. Bases could be built, people could be hired, and the clone could be recaptured.

"You are dismissed," Giovanni snapped at Proton, turning his back on his subordinate.

"Of course, sir," Proton said, swiftly backing out of the room.

Giovanni snatched a folder from his desk, flipping it open to look down at a file– the file of Doctor Carl Tambert, his former head scientist. This had been another he had considered promoting, the man having made some of the greatest strides towards controlling Project M2.

But Tambert was now dead.

"Dead as a traitor should be," Giovanni muttered, snapping the folder shut as he headed away from his desk. His Persian was at his side, looking up at his trainer as he reached for his coat. "You should be grateful that the M2 killed you, Tambert," Giovanni said quietly, eyes flashing darkly. "Because if I were able to get my hands on you then you would have nothing but a world of pain."

Tambert. He had never expected the man to betray him– but the records didn't lie. He had access to everything that had gone on in the base until M2 had destroyed it, and the records showed that it had been Tambert that had freed M2. The creature hadn't overwhelmed their technology, hadn't broken free, it had been released under Tambert's authority. He didn't know what Tambert had hoped to accomplish by freeing it, he should have known that it would have killed him.

He should have known that Red wasn't enough to control it.

Giovanni's lips pressed in a thin line. The records also showed that Red had been in the room when M2 had been released, his ankle monitor showing that he had left his room in the middle of the night before heading there. His door had been unlocked by Tambert, who had probably been hoping to use the boy to control M2. Minutes after M2 had been released the monitor had stopped sending in signals, the boy being among the first to die in the attack.

Red's abilities were the one thing that Giovanni could not replace.

The only answer Giovanni didn't have were Tambert's motives– what had he hoped to accomplish by freeing M2? It couldn't have just been out of bitterness or spite, just setting it free to have it destroy everything– or else he wouldn't have brought the boy with him. Had he hoped to make progress in controlling it? Trying to run an experiment with Red that he wouldn't have approved of– so he had snuck him away in the middle of the night?

That didn't explain why he had fully released the creature though.

The only answer was that Tambert was a traitor, and had hoped that Red would be enough to protect him from M2's wrath. The thought made Giovanni want to chuckle– M2 spared no one. It was a merciless being, one he had carefully crafted. It wouldn't be swayed to any side, it would only be driven by its endless rage.

M2 couldn't be tamed, which was why it had to be controlled.

Giovanni let out a sigh as he made his way through the gym, the building just as dark as his office had been. Viridian City was the only settlement he would consider as home, but yet his time here was nothing but a facade. A mask he put on, his role as the gym leader that watched over Viridian City. A quiet, but a progressive place, one he had worked in comfortably for many years. The city had come to know him as their quiet gym leader, and always greeted him warmly. There was few people here he had truly bothered to ever get to know, as his attention was always being needed elsewhere.

"Well, Persian, let us go and investigate this strange 'explosion' the League has found, shall we?" Giovanni asked, and the Persian flicked its tail. He had expected the League to send him, as he was the closest gym leader, and it was also something he had been depending on– as any other member of the league would be nothing but interference for Team Rocket. They had enough on their plate to deal with already, and the last thing they needed was the league interfering.

The sun was blinding as he stepped outside, eyes narrowing as he exited the dim gym. His Persian let out a low purr as his trainer looked out, and Giovanni gently rubbed him behind the ear.