First of all, I have to thank you so very much for eliminating the Legendaries in the first place, Master.
"You're very welcome, now get on with it," Silver said, waving him on. Mewtwo sighed, taking a long and thoughtful drink of tea.
You do know Team Galactic Leader Cyrus, or at least know of him?
"Sure; him and Pops used to always fight over stealing Pokémon—I know the bastard."
And you know what he tried to do fifteen years back?
"Yeah, the moron tried to create a new world using Dialga and Palkia and was beaten by some bratty Trainer from Twinleaf Town. He was lucky to have escaped with his life."
What if he didn't?
"What do you mean, What if he didn't? He's not a zombie…is he?" Mewtwo didn't respond; Silver groaned. "Just when I thought I knew everything."
He's not a zombie in the media's sense, like those stupid movies you always watched, Mewtwo said, causing him to groan again. But he is a living corpse. The new dimension was dark, like a black hole; it sucked in his life energy like everything else, and for a few moments Cyrus was dead to the world.
"And then…?"
Cyrus was inside there for two years before the portal reopened somewhere in Sinnoh. I don't know what happened, but as a Psychic-type I can tell something is very wrong with him.
"Okay, but how do you know any of this?"
Mewtwo smiled devilishly. Perhaps I have set up residence in a Galactic Grunt's mind?
"You sly Delphox, Mewtwo." He paused. "Oi, since when could you do that?"
I don't know—within the last three years? If only you had been there to see me mature, Master.
"Stop calling me that already, you baby. What's done is done; you've made yourself a good living in any case, so don't be so damn petty. Anyhow, why exactly is Cyrus a problem for me?"
He's not so much a problem for you as for Team Rocket as a whole.
"Oh, great, then I don't care."
Silver, I know you're not the biggest Rocket advocate, but this also puts your father in danger—my creator. Don't tell me you've lost that little bit of heart you had, Mewtwo snorted.
"Alright, alright, maybe I didn't. What exactly is Cyrus planning to do?"
He thinks that by using the advanced DNA research and technology we have, coupled with the abilities of a human psychic as both a medium and catalyst, he can recreate and summon Dialga and Palkia to make a more permanent and less pernicious new world directly on top of this one, one that he can rule.
"Quite the ambitious zombie, isn't he?" Silver said, finishing his tea and pouring himself another cup. "You don't happen to have any side dishes, do you?" Mewtwo appeared bored as he summoned a plate of peanut butter cookies. "Wow."
You still enjoy these, don't you?
"Of course!" He took a bite and grimaced. "These are stale."
So is your sense of humor, it replied curtly. We're on an important topic.
"So? Food is also very important. Continue, continue."
Team Galactic has also amassed a good amount of power within these last five years, Mewtwo continued. They allied with small-time Trainers that made it big in their regions, people like Lucas, May, Calem, and Hilda, making them a more formidable force than before. I'm sad to say that I'm not even a match for them at this point; my attempt at opposition fell flat, even with my—cough—unmatched prowess.
"Modest much? And yeah, that's a pretty bad injury you got."
I'm working on healing it, don't worry.
"Who said I was worried?" he said calmly. Mewtwo scoffed and rolled its eyes. "Okay, maybe a little, but… Okay, I see the problem with Cyrus, but if you can't handle him what do you expect me to do?"
I don't know, it admitted, but though I hate to say it, you are more resourceful than I; you can think of a solution can't you, Silver?
"I'd be flattered had that not been so bitter," Silver smirked, finishing his third cup of tea and checking the pot. "You didn't magic a full pot huh?"
I didn't expect a long conversation—or such gluttony, Mewtwo said dryly.
"That's not the way to butter someone up for a favor, Mewtwo."
I've said already that it shouldn't have to be considered a favor for you to help out your father, your own flesh and blood, you cruel bastard.
"Gee, thanks for the heads up!" Silver threw his hands in the air. "We're both bastards; it's no secret, and therefore it doesn't affect me in the slightest to hear as much, especially from you. Anything else, or was that it?"
I don't know; any questions?
"Um, yeah, tons."
Narrow them down?
"Well, you mentioned Cyrus having our DNA technology? How'd he get that?"
Cyrus has dozens of spies, Silver, and some of them are even under your nose. I assume you remember a middle-aged, balding man by the name of Jermaine?
"No, not really."
Alright, let me see if I can remind you—this is quoted verbatim from a thought I procured from him: "Just for this, I'll knock a thousand off of your debt."
"Him? He was a spy? He still here?"
No; he's speaking with Cyrus at the moment. Silver took out his Xtransceiver and sent a quick mass message to the Grunt guards.
"Well he's not coming back in. One more thing, Mewtwo—how do I beat him alone?"
I never once said you'll be alone in this. Silver worked his jaw irritably. Team Rocket—
"Is my father's team; not mine," he interrupted, creating a period of angry silence.
I apologize for the suggestion then, it interrupted calmly, standing as well. Look, I have somewhere to be.
"Gee, got a hot date waiting?"
Really, I wish you could level up your jokes like you level up your Pokémon, it said dryly. Silver grinned.
"It's been…nice seeing you again, Mewtwo, even under the circumstances. Pops may have made you but it was me that taught you everything you know; I hope it means as much to you as it does to me."
Mewtwo didn't respond to that. You're really getting soft, Silver, it muttered before waving away the table then disappearing itself. That was always creepy; it just vanished without any smoke or noise or anything. Silver sighed and shook his head.
"Sir?" a timid voice said from the entrance. Silver turned and scoffed at the short Grunt standing there.
"What? I'm not in a mood to rob someone's stupid Pokémon or mess with weak Trainers, guy."
"T-That's not it, sir," he said, looking at his feet as he spoke.
"Then it's…?"
"Your father…the Boss…he wants to see you, sir."
"Great," Silver said, looking back at where Mewtwo was moments ago. "I want to see him too."
Giovanni looked a lot better; he was in his office instead of a bed wallowing in his feces or something. He was in his usual suit behind his desk shuffling papers; Silver would've believed that him being sick was just some sort of nightmare if Giovanni hadn't had a group of prescription bottles next to his paperwork. "Silver, we need to talk," he said, getting straight to the nitty-gritty.
"Sure Pops, let's have a little chat." Silver drew up one of the slick leather office chairs and sat opposite to his father. Giovanni shuffled papers in silence for a while more, apparently stalling—or maybe he just forgot Silver was there like usual.
"Jermaine tells me that you visited a hospital in Goldenrod City?"
"Jermaine? Who's that?"
"One of the Grunts working on the computers?" Giovanni sighed, shaking his head. "One part of being a boss is memorizing your workers' names; you should learn them as well, Silver."
"And why the hell should I? I digress; what's the big deal huh? I'm twenty-eight, I can do what I want when I want."
"Fair point well made. It also came to my attention that you visited one of the intruders in that hospital; more than that, you left him there without reporting his location to me or any of the Executives."
"Okay…and?" Giovanni held his gaze until Silver groaned. "Alright, alright, I made a mistake, but—"
"You seem to be making a lot of mistakes as of late, Silver," he said. Silver inhaled; he recognized that tone, the same tone Giovanni used to tell him that his mom died and he (Giovanni) would miss the funeral for something-or-other, that he had "business" and couldn't come to his third-grade Spelling Bee, that he had to interview some potential business associates and missed his inauguration as the Johto League Champion—it was pretty much his I'm-sorry-I-can't-be-a-real-father-but-business-calls tone.
"What exactly are you getting at?" he asked hesitantly, sitting forward. Giovanni sighed and put on his best business face, which was an altogether different red flag.
"You're off of the team, Silver. Off of Team Rocket."
"Oh. Oh, that's not all that bad," Silver said, surprised. Well, he would have to earn his own cash, get his own apartment, but it wasn't a big deal; it wasn't nearly as bad as what he thought Giovanni was about to do, at least.
"That's not all."
"It's not?" Silver could count on one hand all the times he was afraid in his entire life, and this encounter with his father made it as the third time. "Then…what else, Dad?" He gripped his knees anxiously as Giovanni stood up, turning to the glass wall of his office with his hands clasped behind his back. The very classic I'm-about-to-end-your-world businessman pose.
"You're not just out of Team Rocket; you're out of the family as well."
"I'm…what?" You're out of the family. It couldn't be—no, Silver must have been hearing things, there was no way that Giovanni, his father, his biological father, the one who raised him all by himself since he was four would even consider—
"You've been making too many mistakes, causing too many rumors to circulate. Having you here is becoming a liability, and having a relation with you has others thinking that I'm a traitor. The traitor is you, Silver, and that's the one thing that I despise."
Silver stood up so fast the chair overturned. "No… Dad, you can't be serious. I'm your son—your son, Arceusdamnit, you can't just—just—disown me! Dad!"
"You should go," was all Giovanni had to say. Silver clenched and unclenched his fists; he wanted to punch Giovanni—or maybe himself, he wasn't sure—but he was so angry and frustrated and just so…miserable inside. Uh-huh, yeah, the same Silver that ignored his dad for most of his life was miserable that his dad disowned him, because no matter how much of a Stunky his old man was, he loved him, and to walk away would mean giving up the last person that still probably loved him in that world. He gritted his teeth and shook his head, repressing the urge to cry as he turned away from Giovanni as well. Even so, a tear spilled down his face.
"F…Fine."
Little did he know, Giovanni was crying too.
