Author's Note:
Prologue is edited! Woot! Will tackle the first chapter this coming week. Sorry it's not quite finished!

That said, hot dang, more reviews! I will have to say that while I'm always up for responding to reviews and giving shout-outs in author's notes, probably this coming week, I'll create a blog or what-have-you to put responses up because I am already applauding your patience for lengthy chapter prefaces. D: I mean, I could just respond via PM, but I kinda like keeping things in a public place, partly so other people can see the answers to your questions and partly because I'm not that thrilled about FFNet's PM system, y'know?

But for now, I'm doing something a little different by placing the review responses at the end of this chapter ... just because they took up a hilarious amount of room, and like I said, the last thing I want to do is bog you down with a massive A/N. D:

So without further ado, chapter first and questions later!

Six

D.E.V.A. CLEARANCE LEVEL 1
CLEARANCE ACCEPTED.
DOCUMENT TYPE: DOSSIER
DESIGNATION: D.E.V.A. PERSONNEL CODEX ENTRY #234250
DESCRIPTION: TEAM ROCKET—ESSENTIAL INFORMATION, LATEST UPDATE
DATE-TIME: 24/09/00, 10:14

TEAM ROCKET: Underground criminal organization focusing primarily on the theft and illegal redistribution of pokémon. Other known activities range from fraud, drug-trafficking, and racketeering to unethical experimentation, unauthorized weapons productions, and large-scale hostage taking. International Police has consequently ranked Team Rocket as the most dangerous criminal organization still in existence. Capture and dissolution of Team Rocket is, to them, top priority.

HISTORY: Formally founded in 1931 as part of the resolution to the Unovan Gang Wars by Salvatore di Razzo. Sometime during World War II, di Razzo expanded his empire to Japan and relocated his base of operations from Castelia City, Unova, to Viridian City, Kanto. Following the unsolved deaths of both di Razzo and his only son Paolo, control over the Team Rocket empire passed to di Razzo's daughter-in-law and former underboss, Adriana di Razzo, née Gambino. She established the groundwork for Team Rocket's current reputation via the pursuit of several "legendary pokémon" (confirmed to be six documented Special Entities—see SE-004, 005, 006, 008, 012, and 013). Her death resulted in the succession of her son, Giovanni di Razzo, who pushed forward with the goal of global domination via capture and control of pokémon.

LEADER: Giovanni di Razzo, Viridian Gym Leader, chief benefactor of Pokémon Laboratories, and one of the majority shareholders of the Silph Company.

STRUCTURE:
- Boss
- Consigliere (position currently held by Matori Yamaguchi)
- Executives, led by an underboss (position currently held by Arthur "Archer" Redstone)
- Elite Officer
- High-Rank Officer
- Field Agent
- Grunt

* The role of scientist within the organization appears to be its own rank, independent from the above structure. Those who are members of the scientist rank can hold equal power to any position from elite officer downwards, depending on the number of years spent in the organization and the individual's role in a specific operation.

RELEVANCE TO D.E.V.A.: Team Rocket is responsible for the creation of SE-004 and the capture and misuse of several other Special Entities. Apprehension and punishment of Team Rocket members for their involvement in organized crime is none of D.E.V.A.'s concern. However, Rocket interference with the containment and indexing of Special Entities must be dealt with accordingly. Permission to use extreme force granted.

See also YELED PROTOCOL for further exceptions.

—

The first thing that Bill noticed when he woke up was that his entire body ached, as if he had slept on a hard floor for the past several hours. And, looking at the metal sprawling across his field of vision, he realized that was a very likely possibility.

He sat up with a groan and pressed a hand to his face. Instantly, he jolted in his seat and pulled his arm back to examine his fingers. He flexed his claws, listening once again to the clacking each movement made.

"Oh," he mumbled. "I was hoping that was a dream."

Unfortunately, I assure you it was not.

Bill flinched and glanced towards the ceiling. "Ah. You."

If it is all the same to you, the parasite replied, I prefer not to be referred to as "you."

Carefully, Bill stood and pressed a hand to his head again. "Well, I don't have anything else to call you. Didn't you say that your species doesn't bother with names?"

No. I said that we did not hold names in high regard.

"So you have a name."

I did not say that either.

Bill sighed heavily.

In any case, you should not lie to me. That is not the reason why you referred to me the way you did. You respect pokémon. You even care enough about them to refer to them by their correct gender. If an abra preferred to be called by its species name, you would do so out of respect, not because it is convenient for you.

In response, Bill flinched for a second time. Abra. There was a reason why the parasite chose that pokémon. An abra was attached to Bill's childhood, after all. An abra was the first pokémon he had ever captured, and the kadabra it had evolved into was guarding his home in his absence. Bill had no doubt the ixodida could pick up on the memories and emotions he associated with that psychic—possibly even the remnants of the link between them. That left an uncomfortable feeling in Bill's chest; if the creature could pick up on the memories of his pokémon, what else did it already know about him? Despite that lingering question, Bill did his best to avoid reacting to the alien's words, even if he knew it could read his every thought. It was petty, but Bill felt he could do without giving the parasite the satisfaction of a response.

Strange that you would refer to me as a friend yet treat me as a contemptible pest. Are you afraid of me?

It was reading his mind. Right there, as it was speaking to him. There was no doubt about it. Still, Bill did not react to it.

"No. What did you expect?" Bill replied as calmly as he could. "You completely altered my body without my permission. I'm only in a relationship with you because I don't have a choice in the matter."

You would have died if I did not act as I had. The transformation itself is irreversible and difficult; we have established that. But even if we did not consider that, in my independent form, I can neither navigate my environment well nor discern one potential host from another. You must understand this, Bill. I chose you, and I am sorry to hear that this is not pleasant for you to come to terms with. But this is your reality now, and no amount of protest on your part will change it.

Bill crossed his arms and closed his eyes again. He exhaled slowly, letting the words sink in. Each one stung, but he knew the creature had a point. Even if there was a way to change him back, that wasn't an option within his reach right then. He was stuck in that body with that creature in his head, and he just had to deal with that for now.

"All right," he finally said, his voice soft. "What do you want me to call you?"

Your kind calls mine the ixodida.

"Isn't that a bit strange?" Bill asked as he opened his eyes again. "I can't simply call you by your species name. The way you speak sounds too human."

That did not stop you from referring to your psychic pokémon by their species names. Kadabra, for example?

"Stop bringing him up," Bill hissed. "That's a different story anyway."

Very well. Then your kind has also referred to me as Adam.

"Fantastic. Adam. I can call you that."

Strange, is it not? The meaning of it. Adam, an ancient name—the oldest, according to some humans.

"Please. Just stop talking."

Desperate to drown out his partner, Bill glanced around the room, taking in the sight of it for the first time. Yet there wasn't much to see. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling were all undecorated metal surfaces, and the sides of the room arched up to shape the space into a long half-tube. Several yards away, a large door spanned the back wall. On the other end of the room, set in the opposite wall, was a standard-sized door with a heavy, silver handle attached to it. Nothing else existed in this space except the box.

The box being, of course, the one that Bill stood inside. His breath caught slightly as he finally registered what it was. The room wasn't even lit properly; all of the light ebbed from the flat, blue, translucent walls of the box. Bill walked forward, across four feet of the cube's floor, until he reached the barrier closest to the smaller of the two doors. Gingerly, he reached up and touched the surface of his cage, only to hear it crackle beneath his touch. He jumped back in surprise and blinked at it for a few seconds before reaching forward again.

It was smooth and warm … yet also barely tangible. When Bill pressed into it with his entire body, it refused to yield, but it felt less like he was pressing against a solid surface and more like the box was repelling him back into its interior. No matter how hard he pressed or how much force he applied, it would nudge him backwards. With a deep breath, he stood back, planting one hand on the barrier for stability. He curled his other hand into a fist and launched it into the cube, but as soon as the punch connected, it bounced his arm backwards and nearly threw Bill onto the floor. Shaking off the shock, Bill took a few steps backwards and dove into the barrier with as much force as he could muster.

He ricocheted into the upper portion of the opposite wall, which repelled him directly into the floor in the center of the box. With a whimper, he slowly sat up.

Are you quite done?

Bill was about to shoot a response when the door in front of him swung open. Strips of light on the ceiling flared to life, and as Bill winced in temporary blindness, he heard boots thud into the room.

"What's going on in here?" a voice demanded.

As he stood, Bill lifted his chin to see the last person he had hoped would be behind that door: the blonde assistant with the purple eyes. A shiver went down his spine as he instantly recalled seeing her face swimming above him in his last moments as a human. She looked different now: more mature and confident. Of course, part of that might have had to do with the fact that she was, at that moment, dressed in a black Team Rocket uniform.

"You!" Bill gasped.

She smiled, but unlike the way she did in Laboratory F, there was no pretense. It was all venom this time around. She narrowed her eyes and flashed as much of her teeth as she could.

"Glad to see you're finally awake," she purred. "I could use some entertainment. It's been a boring flight."

"Flight?" Bill furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean 'flight'?"

"Oh, don't you know?" she replied casually. "You're on an aircraft bound for Chrono Island. We have a laboratory there that you'll feel right at home in."

He was captured by Team Rocket. Bill fought every urge to panic. Instead, he strode forward and placed a hand on the wall of the box again. Flying. They were flying from Cinnabar Island to Chrono Island in the Sevii Archipelago. His mind honed in on that for the sake of his sanity. They were flying to the Sevii Islands. Chrono Island was a ferry ride from Knot Island, and besides that, they would have to pass over Knot to get to Chrono. One way or another, it was a way out. If Bill could just get away from Team Rocket, he could contact his friend Celio on Knot Island and hide until he could figure out a way to change back.

But he needed an escape plan. And before he could set one in motion, he needed to distract this girl.

I could help you, Adam said.

"Nothing to say?" the girl continued. "I can't blame you. Don't worry. You'll be in the care of our scientists in no time."

"What do you want from me?" Bill growled.

"Um, hello?" The girl put her hands on her hips. "What don't we want from you? You represent the final stage of ixodida infection, and you're one of the most skilled inventors we can get our hands on. It's lucky you retained your sanity through the transformation. Now we'll figure out a way to make you useful, one way or another!"

Bill balled his hands into fists and rested them on the barrier. "I thought you were explicitly ordered not to touch me."

"Well, yeah, but you keep on running into us," she replied. "It's really inconvenient, you know. It's like you're begging us to mess with you. Can anyone really blame us, then? I mean, if you think about it like that, it's really your fault you got into this mess."

He glared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," she responded. "Your fault, your mess. We just accidentally picked you up along the way."

"Let me go," he growled. "Let me go this instant!"

Smiling again, she crossed her arms. "You're in no position to make demands. You see this?" She paused to point at the box. "It's an eight-point force field cage designed by our own technological genius, Dr. Zager. It's sleek, stylish, and completely impenetrable. Isn't our technology off the hook? As an inventor, I'm sure you can see how ridiculously cool this is."

Bill growled—actually growled, with his voice rumbling in his throat and his lips curling back to reveal his fangs. The woman didn't seem fazed by it, however, as she stared down the creature in the box with a smirk.

And then, the sound of a telephone ringing filled the room. Bill abruptly stopped growling, and the woman's expression wavered. He took his eyes off her, glancing around the otherwise empty room for the source of the ringing until she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"Ugh. They always call at the absolute worst times," she muttered.

He fixed his gaze on her again. "What?"

She reached under her white cap and pulled from it a black cellphone. Holding it up, she motioned quickly and indifferently at it. Its display was lit, and it vibrated each time it rung in her hand.

"Mind if I take this?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Oh, no, please."

Flipping open the phone, the woman turned away from him and sighed for a second time. "Hello?"

As the officer's conversation continued, Bill glanced around the box again. He needed a plan, and this was as good a time as any to figure things out. The box had no door, no opening that he could force open. Then how did he end up inside it? His eyes followed the seams of the box, tracing back to one of the corners until he finally found the answer.

There, at one of the corners, sat a small metal sphere. Bill traced another seam leading away from the sphere until found another one floating seven feet above it. In fact, as he turned and glanced at each corner of the box, there were eight spheres in total: four sitting on the floor in an eight-foot square around his feet and four floating directly above the first set. Stooping down, he reached out and tapped one of the orbs. It sparked and fizzled, causing Bill to recoil and draw his claw to his mouth with a hiss. Hot. Very hot. But they were independent devices; that much Bill could tell at a glance.

Drawing himself to his full height, Bill flexed his claws and stared at the ball he tapped.

Eventually, the parasite's voice floated into his mind. So. What is your plan?

Bill shifted his gaze to the ceiling and kept his voice as low as he could make it. "I think it's possible to break this barrier. We'll need to short-circuit the devices holding it together. Even attacking just one will compromise the integrity of the force field long enough for us to escape."

I see. You are hesitating, though. Why?

"The powers you've given me already won't be enough," he replied. "Protect is a defensive move. While I can use it to ensure that the force field won't close on us as I pass through, it doesn't have any use in disrupting the barrier. Scratch will only work if the angle and the amount of power I use are perfectly synced, and even then, these things are running too hot to touch. Are there any other abilities you can give me?"

I am afraid not. Your learning must not progress in that manner. You must discover your full potential by mastering the abilities you already possess. Otherwise, you risk injuring yourself in your attempts to use any power more advanced than what I have already given you.

"While I understand that, this is a bit important," Bill whispered harshly. "How else will we be able to escape?"

There is one other option, but you will not like it.

"Whether or not I'd like it is rather irrelevant right now. Our priority is getting away from Team Rocket. I don't care how."

You will really not like this option.

"They fused me with you and trapped us in a box. Do you really want to see what else they'll do?"

"Hey! Who are you talking to?!" The Rocket huffed in frustration and then said into the phone, "I might have to defuse a situation here. Let me call you back when I have something to report."

Without waiting for a response, the woman snapped her cell phone shut and glared at Bill.

"All right. What do you think you're doing?" she asked. "You're not planning something, are you?"

Once I go through with this option, you cannot stop me from finishing, Adam said. Do you understand that, Bill?

"Yes!" he hissed.

Then do you give me permission to do whatever I must to protect you?

The woman pulled a tulip from her left glove and, with a flick of her wrist, telescoped its stem into a baton. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

You do not have much time. I need your explicit permission.

Bill backed away from the wall as the woman advanced. Eventually, he stood at the center of the box once more. His eyes fell on the tulip, just in time to watch the blossom crackle with sparks of electricity.

"Yes!" Bill answered. "Okay! Just do it!"

Very good.

At once, Bill sensed himself being pulled backwards. He could still see through his eyes, but he felt like they weren't his. In fact, it felt like every muscle in his face relaxed and detached from his mind, and that disconnection quickly spread to the rest of his form.

And then, his body moved without him.

The Rocket stopped. Her arms fell to her sides as she stared into the box.

"What the hell?" she muttered. Then, she swung the baton upwards and crouched behind it. "Don't you dare...!"

Bill's hands moved out to his sides. Inside his head, Bill sat as he watched himself sweep his hands backwards and hold them a short distance apart. His entire body began to glow with a golden light, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see a bright, blue orb of plasma begin to swirl between his palms.

"Don't I dare what?" his body asked.

The woman's stance lowered, and her fist gripped the baton tighter.

Bill watched his vision shift. His chin rose slightly, and the golden light intensified until it filled the box. All around him, the barriers began to flicker as sparks flew from the spheres in each of the cage's corners.

"Tell me," Adam said. "I have a great interest in names. What is yours? What is your purpose?"

For a moment, Bill thought she wouldn't respond. He had no reason to believe she would; after all, why would she in this situation? But then, she began to smirk.

"I'm known by many names," she said. "To my allies, I'm known as Agent 009, the Black Tulip, a member of Team Rocket's elite espionage unit. But you may call me Domino."

Adam looked down at her. "That is not your real name. Such a shame. I was hoping you would be a worthy, honest opponent."

The golden light grew in intensity until it was all Bill could see. In his head, he could feel something wrap around him. Something warm. Something … almost comforting.

Bill. You are going to sleep now. But do not worry. When you awaken, you will be somewhere safe.

Unlike the last few times Bill was about to be knocked unconscious, it wasn't a lengthy fight. It wasn't a matter of Bill resisting his physical urges in order to stay awake. It was more like an injection of novocain directly into his brain. One moment, he was awake, and the next, he fell into a deep, dark sleep.

The last thing he heard was an explosion.