He was suspended in the darkness, feeling the bitter resentment that gnawed at him for the last four days. These idiots have spent at least six months with him in testing and training; why don't they understand how he feels? They should know by now that he doesn't like anyone touching him. Admittedly it was an accident that he had elbowed his handler in the face a bit harder than intended, but he had to get his point across. It was their fault that they blew it so far out of proportion and forced him to defend the counterattack. And now what? Locked in his holding tank indefinitely. What a dumb way to spend his time at Cinnabar… training for hours at a time without any sort of recreation, and now not being allowed to leave this damned tank.

Sometimes, he wondered if they ever bothered to consider him as an equal... or better yet, a superior. Mewtwo was sure that his intelligence would far outstrip each and every one of theirs, yet they only dish out commands like candy on Halloween. 'Use this' and 'attack that,' they say, day in and day out. Don't they ever want to know how he feels? Or don't they consider the thoughts of the strongest Pokémon in existence important?

Mewtwo opened his eyes.

Through the wavy distortion that was the liquid in his tank, he had a good view of the lab's occupants, and they of him. Sunshine poured through the far windows, flooding the lab with long shafts of light. These dedicated researchers were staying slightly longer than others in the Mansion; perhaps that was why they were assigned to Projects One Fifty and One Fifty-One. And speaking of One Fifty-One, Mewtwo could see Mew on the wall to his right. Mew's head was bowed, eyes closed, most likely sleeping. The only thing Mewtwo could concede to these scientists was their accomplishment in cloning. But that was it; he was just an experiment to them.

One of them was looking up from his notes right into Mewtwo's eyes. Mewtwo replied with the dirtiest look he could muster. The man shot a frightened look before turning back to his notes with great haste. Mewtwo smirked, but soon stopped.

Boring, this is, he thought dully.

He watched as the sun continued to set and the room slowly empty of people. They packed away their notes, briefcases, or whatever they had out and trickled through the lab's main door to the outside hallway. Mewtwo was spared many glances by this crowd of scientists, most of whom had expressions of mild concern or worry. In the process of boredly looking around the room, something caught his eye towards the windows.

For a fraction of a second, Mewtwo thought he could see the outline of a person looking into the room from the outside. Against the low sun, the silhouette stood out quite distinctly. But just as quickly as the silhouette appeared, it had gone.

Mewtwo was extremely confused; why were they looking in from the outside? Couldn't they just use the front door? But then Mewtwo thought about it for a bit, and soon reached the conclusion that he could've imagined it. He saw everything through his tank's liquid, which did tend to distort his far sight.

Speaking of the tank, Mewtwo thought savagely as he closed his eyes again, looks like we'll be adding another couple solid hours to this blasted streak.

He hated how they didn't trust him. He hated how they only cared about making him the perfect tool to be polished and honed, but not to be used or trusted. He especially hated how confined he was. This... freaking… Pokémon Mansion... It's been hell on earth for far long.

What he'd give to leave…

BOOM!

An enormous explosion rocked the entire room. Mewtwo's glass tank completely shattered from the shockwave of the explosion. Before his eyes could do more than fly open in surprise, he collided painfully with the already sopping wet floor. Gasping from the sudden liquid-to-air transition, he laid on the ground as the sounds of screaming hit his ringing eardrums. The floor vibrated and shook from the heavy footfalls of humans and others that he couldn't identify. He tried to look up, but the dust was so thick it was nearly impenetrable when looking directly into the sun. The opposite wall had been blown clean open and several silhouettes were rapidly moving here and there, quickly subduing the screams and shouts. Eventually, one of the largest figures approached Mewtwo. The latter couldn't move out of shock.

"He's over here, boss," the bulky Pokémon said harshly.

"Good," a human voice from the other side of the room responded. "Make sure he doesn't escape."

Mewtwo squinted, trying to get a better look at whoever was standing over him. He was reasonably tall and quite wide; the shadow he cast blocked out the sun from Mewtwo's vision. From behind this brute, a flame was jumping and spitting on his tail as both slowly waved back and forth, back and forth. Enormous wings spread out on either side of his shoulders, and they too moved idly. A small breeze blew every time they flapped, continuing to churn the dust that was in the room.

These two weren't the only uninvited guests. Mewtwo could hear at least four more voices in the mix, none of which sounded like they belonged to a human other than the one that had already spoken. They were speaking to each other, none of which was making sense to Mewtwo's ears.

"Perimeter breach was successful and undetected at 1930 hours. Intelligence collection in progress. Target is secure."

"Copy. Four civilian casualties; one killed, three others injured. Remaining three offering no resistance."

"Excellent," said the human. "Now then..."

Another shadowy figure approached where Mewtwo was lying. He was tall, lean, and appeared to be well-dressed. He got closer and closer… so close that Mewtwo could just make out the wildest, scariest smile he had ever witnessed.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mewtwo."

The addressed stood up shakily, trying to master his nerves that were going haywire. Once he reached his full height, several clinks of metal-on-metal were heard from around the room. Now that the dust had cleared somewhat, Mewtwo could see the full scene for the first time.

The opposite wall was completely gone, reduced to a pile of cinders and powder. Any glass, including Mewtwo's holding tank, was shattered to bits. Dust settled on all the surfaces, clinging to Mewtwo's wet skin and griming it up. Behind some of the tables, the remaining scientists were cowering in fear or trying to tend to the wounded. Only one was not moving; blood was seeping from under his head and trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

The intruders comprised of some of the most bizarrely dressed Pokémon accompanying the human. Each one was wearing a black Kevlar vest with a patch—a red capital letter 'R'—on the left breast. On the back of the vest near the neck were different nation's flags from around the world; Mewtwo picked out the United States, the United Kingdom, Russia, and China. Charizard, the one that first approached Mewtwo, was staring hard into his eyes. Rhydon was squinting from the bright light that poured through the missing wall. A short radio antennae protruded from over his shoulder. Standing over the scientists, Golduck was wearing a sleek pair of black shooting glasses, blocking his eyes from view. Raichu and Sandslash were not far away from each other; Sandslash's teeth were bared with a toothpick protruding from them and Raichu was, for whatever reason, smoking a cigar. Nearly all of them carried an assault rifle, pointed directly at Mewtwo's heart. Charizard held his rifle across his chest in a resting position because he was too close to draw his weapon.

The man that approached put his hands on his hips and, in doing so, revealed a holster attached to his suspenders. The handgun inside was so large that Mewtwo wondered how it didn't fall out of this holster; perhaps it was a custom fit to the gun.

"Weapons down!" barked the man. At once, the Pokémon lowered their rifles and held them like Charizard did—across their chests in a resting position.

The man appeared exceptionally suave; his facial features looked like they had been chiseled by a master craftsman and his sleek, dark brown hair did well to match. His blue sports jacket and pants were spotless while everyone else was coated in a fine layer of dirt. His grin faded, to be replaced by a neutral expression.

"I'm surprised, Mewtwo," he said in an effortlessly strong voice. "I expected you to do something more than just stand there like you don't have a clue by now."

Mewtwo was dumbfounded by everything that had just happened and the shocks hadn't quite dissipated yet.

"I—you—who are you guys!?" Mewtwo stuttered.

The smile returned as the man said, "My name's Giovanni. These are the world's most experienced and well-trained Pokémon for combat. Not battling," he clarified when Mewtwo contracted his eyebrows in suspicion, "combat. The type of combat that any frontline soldier could tell you about. This team is faster, smarter, and stealthier than the Delta Team of the United States Army, the British SAS, Japan's First Airborne Brigade or even the former Soviet Spetsnaz. This team deals with operations of excessive danger, extreme importance, or stealth. Though at this rate, it's turning into a waste of their time. We were prepared for a fight."

"A fight for what, exactly?" Mewtwo spat.

"Not for what, Mewtwo," said the man named Giovanni slowly, "but for whom…"

At this moment, Mewtwo's blood was reaching boiling point. He didn't care who these people were or what they wanted, but he was sure that any action would lead to him being filled with holes like Swiss cheese.

"You can take any of these scientists and clear off; I don't much care for any of them," Mewtwo said, feeling the satisfaction of these words wash over him. It felt good to speak what was on his mind, even if it was to these complete strangers. A whimper or two came from the group overwatched by Golduck, but nobody paid any attention.

"Oh ho ho," Giovanni chuckled, "we don't want these scientists, but we wouldn't mind having a look at the intelligence they have to offer. No no, Mewtwo, there's something far more important that we want."

The grin returned in full measure, distorting his handsome features and making him appear slightly demented.

"We want you."

Mewtwo stood stock-still, staring right into Giovanni's cold eyes while the others watched on. He felt rooted to the spot while his heart pounded painfully. After a minute, he finally found the courage to speak.

"For what?" Mewtwo blurted out, his voice wavering slightly out of nerves.

"For this team," said Giovanni patiently, the grin still playing on his face. "We want to put you in the place you deserve; above all else. You'll be a part of the most elite combatants on the planet. You can play a major role in reforming society to make it a much better place. Nobody will be telling you how to live your life. It's everything you've ever wanted. Join Team Rocket, and I'll personally guarantee your happiness by fulfilling your deepest desires and wildest fantasies; you name it, I'll get it. Join us, and you'll be at the top of the pyramid. I'm sure you'd like all of that over the life you've been leading, right?"

A positive typhoon of excitement was quickly displacing Mewtwo's fear and nervousness. Anything… anything to get away from this godforsaken laboratory.

"Yes. Without a doubt, yes. Count me in," said Mewtwo, the excitement obvious in his voice.

Giovanni nodded slowly with immense triumph on his face. He quickly turned to Rhydon and snapped his fingers in the latter's direction.

"Ey! Radio vpered v shtab-kvartiru dlya uspekha missii. Tell headquarters we have him."

Rhydon acknowledged the command and reached for the microphone hidden in his Kevlar vest. After a crackle, Rhydon conversed in rapid Russian with the communications operator. A minute later, Rhydon addressed Giovanni in a hoarse voice muddled by a Russian accent.

"Helix One is twenty-five kliks north-west. They will arrive on the roof of the Pokémon Mansion for evac in ten minutes. How copy?"

"Clear as day," replied Giovanni.

"My kopiruyem," said Rhydon into his vest, "Oscar Mike to LZ."

"Brilliant," said Giovanni, clapping his hands together. "Now, Raichu, have you collected the intelligence?"

"I've got it here, sir," said Raichu through his cigar, holding up a manila folder filled with loose papers.

"Good. Get them to our research department for alteration as soon as possible," said Giovanni. He turned and addressed Sandslash, "Have you succeeded with our secondary objective?"

Sandslash shook his head and spoke in a clearly British accent, "I haven't been able to locate Number One-Five-One. The holding tank's been shattered to smithereens but there's no sign of the secondary objective. I suspect it's escaped through all the confusion, sir."

A small frown passed over Giovanni's lips.

"Shame," he said. "I was hoping we could get our hands on that Pokémon. But I guess that's why it's just a side task. Oh well."

"Sir," said Charizard, his head turned to the side to address Giovanni, "we have eight minutes until evac. What else can we do until we board Helix One at the LZ?"

A brief pause followed. Giovanni turned slowly and deliberately away from Charizard.

"I'm going to teach Mewtwo a very important lesson about this team's rules," said Giovanni, looking Mewtwo straight into his eyes.

An enormous thrill of foreboding met these words. Teach him a lesson? What did that mean? Was Giovanni going to do something to him?

"What—what do you mean, sir?" asked Mewtwo, trying to keep his voice level.

"Your first lesson with this team is that I do not permit anyone to know that we exist," said Giovanni.

He clicked his finger in Golduck's direction and pointed to Mewtwo. Golduck reached behind his hip and produced a handgun. He lobbed it in Mewtwo's direction with one hand and a smaller object with the other. Mewtwo caught both, eyes roving over these two objects.

In his right hand was a Glock 17. The synthetic plastics and metal frame were in pristine condition. Not a smudge or scratch scuffed the black shell of the pistol. In his left was the magazine to match the Glock. Inside were seventeen rounds, each a nine by nineteen millimeter Parabellum, stacked neatly from bottom to top. The copper jacket of the top bullet burned red-hot in the fading sunlight, dazzling Mewtwo's eyes.

"You may be thinking, 'What does it mean to not exist?'" suggested Giovanni. "Well, I'll tell you precisely what it means…"

As if a cue had been given, all five Pokémon in Kevlar vests began inching towards the scientists on the ground still cowering in fear. The clicks of the safeties from the various weapons echoed around the room. Giovanni folded his arms, looking at those that were trembling on the ground. In the eyes of Giovanni, Charizard, Rhydon, Golduck, Sandslash, and Raichu, not the slightest bit of pity was present.

"Not existing means we were never here. Not existing means… no witnesses."

They were now standing over the scientists. The five Pokémon were arranged in a straight line with a gap between Rhydon and Charizard, weapons raised and aimed at the subjects now positively shaking on the ground with their hands in the air. And in a second, the sight of the six scientists and five Pokémon, the pistol and magazine in Mewtwo's hand, and the gap in the formation was explained.

With no thought at all, Mewtwo inserted the magazine into the bottom of the Glock. The magazine floor plate fit flush to the butt of the gun with a metallic clap. He cocked the slide, hearing the satisfactory crunch of metal on metal as a round was loaded into the firing chamber. His legs carried him to the hole in the formation as if he were on casters. He stopped precisely in line with the others and raised the pistol, sights on the head of the person silently sobbing on the ground some ten feet in front of him. His hatred for all of them and what they had done to him ballooned in his chest. The anger and frustration was bursting for him to perform a single twitch of the finger, which would release an unstoppable bullet fuelled by the hate he had harbored for as long as he could remember…

Giovanni gave the nod, and six triggers were pulled simultaneously.

"Here you are, then. Boss said to pick and choose two of whatever you like. When you've decided, write down your name, the make and models of your firearms, and their serial numbers. Raichu will take care of the shooting range for you when you're testing."

"Thanks very much, Sandslash."

Sandslash gave a nod of his head and walked away down the corridor. Mewtwo observed the flag of the United Kingdom on the back of Sandslash's vest before turning to the huge table of weapons.

There were more than forty guns of all varieties and spare ammunition on the three tables before him. There were assault rifles, carbines, submachine guns, pistols, a revolver, several shotguns, three light machine guns, and two sniper rifles, all placed on these tables. Every single one had a label, naming the gun and its manufacturer.

Mewtwo paced amongst these weapons for a minute. Giovanni was only equipping him temporarily; he said that, within a month or two, Mewtwo himself would be wielding something far more powerful than steel and lead. Still, Mewtwo wouldn't want to arm himself with something he disliked.

The Colt M16A2 caught his eye, mostly due to the excessively large hand guard. He picked it up in his hands, noting the solid feel that it carried. The stock nearly fit with his shoulder; it was just a bit too wide for his liking, but he still wished to try it out. Mewtwo picked up a spare magazine and loaded it smoothly, chambering in one bullet of the thirty it offered. He looked to Raichu, down a ways in the shooting range. He was stationed above and to the left in a crow's nest composed of bulletproof glass and gave Mewtwo the thumbs up from inside. Mewtwo raised the M16, flicked the fire mode to 'burst', and aimed down the sight.

Targets began popping up one by one throughout the range. Mewtwo turned slightly to the first one he saw and pulled the trigger. Instantly, three bullets rocketed out in quick succession. The first one hit the target, but the recoil lifted the barrel of his gun far too high, sending the remaining two shots nearly into the ceiling. Quickly, Mewtwo turned the fire mode to 'semi-auto' and returned to knocking down targets. He hit most of them, but his confidence with the M16 was slipping. The recoil was a bit much for his liking and the stock didn't fit well with his shoulder. He replaced it after removing both the magazine and the bullet already chambered and resumed his search for another firearm.

For roughly thirty minutes, Mewtwo picked up different weapons, tested them, and replaced them, dissatisfied by their overall comfort and performance. Raichu looked on from the crow's nest, interested in seeing what weapons Mewtwo would choose for himself.

Mewtwo picked up another assault rifle next to an AK-74M. Straight away, Mewtwo noticed its light steel construction and how comfortably the slender frame fit in his hands and shoulder. He checked the label.

"AN-94 assault rifle: Izhmash," he mumbled to himself. "Interesting…"

He collected a curved magazine—shaped more like a banana than anything—and clipped it on (there was no place to "insert" it). He pulled the catch on the ejection port to load the weapon, hearing the metallic crunch he loved so much. The sights were extremely clean and easy to look through as Mewtwo readied for yet another assault on the targets. Like before, they began appearing in response to Mewtwo's readiness.

Mewtwo didn't miss a single one. He expended the whole magazine and smiled as he looked down upon the assault rifle in his hands. He fell in love with it at once.

Mewtwo stood the AN-94 vertically against the wall and moved on to the pistols. A wide variety met his eyes, including the .44 Magnum revolver he had noticed earlier. However, one in particular snagged his attention fairly quickly. Unlike the other handguns that were more angular in style, this one was lacking in sharp edges and corners, like someone had sanded them down. It also seemed slightly larger than the others sitting on the table. He collected it and a matching magazine and read the label:

FN Herstal Five-seven Prototype, Mewtwo read.

The rounds in the magazine were not the typical 9x19mm Parabellum. They seemed like miniaturized 5.56x45mm NATO cartridges. His interest hooked on this strange pistol, he loaded the Five-seven and began target practice.

The most noticeable difference from the other handguns was the recoil. It was significantly less than the Glock he had fired yesterday, which intrigued him greatly. Another thing that pleased him was the magazine size; it packed twenty rounds into a single clip, which was three more than the Glock and eight more than most others that sat on the table before him. Mewtwo grinned as he expended the last round from the Five-seven. Mewtwo found the perfect loadout and he was bursting with enthusiasm.

"You like that, huh?"

Mewtwo jumped and whipped around to face Charizard, who was nearly looking over his shoulder. Charizard laughed at his reaction and said, "My mistake, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Good grief, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Mewtwo breathed, his free hand clutched over his heart.

His eyes fell past Charizard and onto Rhydon, whom he had not noticed. Rhydon was chuckling as well and said in his heavy Russian, "We heard you were testing firearms and we wanted to see if we could help. By the looks of the AN-94 against the wall and the Five-seven in your hands, I can guess that you've found your weapons of choice. Also, we never got a chance to welcome you to Team Rocket. So, welcome to the team."

He gave another hearty laugh and shook Mewtwo's hand. Mewtwo grinned a little warily in response. Noticing this, Charizard said, "Don't worry, bud. We'll fit you right in once you're trained up within the week."

"Party down here, is it?"

Raichu had slipped in unnoticed and was looking interestedly at the others.

"Seems like, don't it?" asked Rhydon with another chuckle. "Let's go upstairs to the lounge and properly introduce ourselves. How about it?"

In a short time, they had collected the remaining Pokémon and moved to the lounge. Settled comfortably around the large, low coffee table with an assortment of drinks, all six squadmates were at ease. Mewtwo was the only one not wearing the standard black Kevlar vest, so he felt the odd man out of the group.

Almost in response to Mewtwo's unspoken words, Charizard said, "Oh, I nearly forgot…"

He reached to the floor beside his oversized chair, produced a heap of black material, and tossed it to Mewtwo across the table. Mewtwo caught it as Charizard said, "For the squad's F.N.G., eh?"

"F.N.G.?" Mewtwo asked as he turned the brand new Kevlar vest in his hands, breathing in the fresh smell of synthetic plastics and vinyl. There on the left side of the front was the red letter 'R.' On the back and near the neck like everyone else's was the flag of a nation; this one had the Japanese flag on it.

Raichu and Charizard snorted in unison at the question. Raichu said with a grin and a sweep of his hand, "It's a U.S. Army thing. Don't worry about it."

"I take it that both of you served?" Mewtwo asked in a slightly frosty voice.

"Yep," said Raichu. "Charizard started in '88 with the 75th Rangers and I started in '89 with the Delta Force. We were both shipped out to Kuwait for the Gulf War and did a lot of joint tasking. We were comrades for quite some time until our mission on New Year's Day of 1991. I was wounded in combat—got shot in the shoulder by a stray bullet…"

Raichu lifted his vest aside to show an ugly scar on his left shoulder, like someone had scraped away at the flesh with a knife and replaced it rather clumsily. Obviously, the stray bullet had done some serious damage.

"But anyway," Raichu continued, "Charizard saved my life by getting me to safety and helping me until proper medical attention came. Since then, we've been great friends."

"Must be nice to have friends…" Mewtwo muttered. Rhydon turned in his direction with his eyebrows brought together, but he didn't say anything. Mewtwo cleared his throat and asked the room at large, "When did you all stop serving?"

A brief pause followed. Rhydon shifted slightly in his chair and said, "Before I stopped, I captained a Spetsnaz squad from 1982 until the Soviet Union's breakup in 1991. After we reorganized back into the Russian Federation, I was asked if I wanted a similar job in the government's Federalnaya Sluzhba Kontrrazvedki—the Federal Counterintelligence Service. I accepted and was placed at the head of a large amount of servicemen. My years of experience served me well for my time there. I was the most respected in the Service by nearly everyone there. In 1995, a few months before we were due to reorganize into the FSB, I received a phone call and was offered to move my talents to Japan and work for a new employer. I was ready for something different, so I accepted. Right around the same time, Charizard and Raichu were off-duty soldiers and received the invitation. Both of them resigned and took their talents to Japan, three days after I arrived. The three of us were the original members of Diamond squad; I'm Diamond 0-1, Charizard's 0-2, and Raichu's 0-3."

"And the others?" Mewtwo asked as he turned his attention from Rhydon, "What are your stories?"

Sandslash gave him a long look before answering.

"I was a member of the United Kingdom's Special Air Service—the SAS for short—starting in 1990. I was a part of the Gulf War as well, but our team specialized in stealth missions. I hate firearms without suppressors, so that's why I liked our group so much. But anyway, I ascended through the ranks of our squad and soon became the captain. After the Gulf War, the SAS and our squad did odd jobs dealing with counterterrorism. In late 1995, I was invited to exercise my true potential with the squad as call sign Diamond 0-4, and I accepted. I specialize in secrecy, stealth, and hacking electronics. It's what I love."

Mewtwo turned to Golduck at the end of this speech, waiting expectantly. Golduck had an unamused, almost sour look on his face. He stared at Mewtwo for several lengthy seconds. Without his shooting glasses on, his eyes looked like they were staring straight into Mewtwo's soul. Mewtwo felt extremely uncomfortable in response.

"I was born very poor in rural China twenty-five years ago, in the shadows of the Kunlun mountain range by the mouth of the mighty Chang Jiang River. I was very unhappy with my homeland, especially after the political shakeout when Chairman Mao Zedong passed away. I moved to Japan when I was eighteen and served in the First Airborne Brigade when I was twenty-one. I was a top-ranked soldier in our brigade, but was still treated as a cut below the rest because I was of Chinese ancestry. On the Chinese New Year about six months ago, I was invited in person to join Team Rocket, where I would be treated better than I had ever been in my life. Giovanni quoted me on my extraordinary knowledge of the Japanese topography and the value of that knowledge in the Diamond squad. Naturally, I accepted the call sign Diamond 0-5, and I never looked back."

An odd silence followed, one that was tensed by the unexplainable dislike radiating from Golduck. Mewtwo couldn't understand why this was.

"How about you, Mewtwo?" asked Charizard, reaching for a can of beer on the table. "What's your story?"