Wyndon City, Galar.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Zzt!"

She woke up six hours later to the sound of a blaring alarm. Begrudgingly, the woman pulled herself up and out of bed. Her long hair spilled around her body, and was tangled up between her limbs. She struggled for a moment to escape it's hold.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Zzt!" Her rotom phone buzzed over and over until she practically smashed the new device over the corner of the bedside table. "I'm awake, rotom. Please stop."

The phone smiled back at her and suddenly took off, levitating into the air. "Roger that, Zzzt! Good morning, Ms. Shirona! Is there anything I can assist you with this afternoon?"

With a quiet sigh, the Sinnoh champion slowly peeled herself from her diagonal position on the queen bed and sat herself up against the grey-finished wooden backboard. She reached up to stretch her arms in between another set of yawns, before finally responding to the rotom assistant. "What time is it?"

Judging by how bright it was in her room, it was likely sometime midday, which wasn't exactly that surprising considering how late she got back last night.

"It is currently two-forty three PM, bzzt! Shall I give you report on the weather?" The eager phone answered back. She didn't respond, merely turning her still hazy vision toward the window to her right. It was large, almost wall to wall and rectangular in shape. It gave rather impressive view of the cityscape of Galar's biggest city.

"No, Rotom. Instead, give me quick summary of the top three global news stories."

The electric device seemed to be stumped for a moment before reading off from some random article.

"You got it! Here's a compressive report of the current trending topics globally, according to: ." Rotom took another moment to seemly process what it was about to spit out, before the low quality voice began to resonate out from the small speakers built in top of the device. "Tensions continue to rise in Alola's Melemele island. Reports indicate that the mass anarchy has only spread further, and is beginning to reach the other islands of the region. In Galar, things are not much better, the general public is being left sign a thousand questions yet the government refuses to issue a statement on the situation..."

The Pokémon trailed off and Cynthia felt all the feelings from the day before suddenly rush back into her sleep deprived brain. It was a reminder about all the work she has yet to do, and that she had no idea what was to come over the next few days.

Her responsibilities, both as a champion and as a person we're going to begin piling up. It was about the worst timing for something like this to happen for her, considering how the Sinnoh league was supposed to begin its preliminary rounds within the next two weeks. Mentally, she's already exhausted, and it hasn't even been two days since the news officially broke.

She rubbed her head and finally dragged herself out of the bed. Struggling around the room and hastily unpacked luggage lying randomly all over the floor, she managed to somehow make it to bathroom. She flicked on the light, and the room lit up, while she heard a fan kick on in the background. She found a mirror and small countertop surface, with a sink that protruded out and over the granite tabletop. It was an obviously modern design that tried to hard to look pretty, at the cost of practicality.

She scoffed at it but switched on the water anyway. She sifted her hands through the room temperature liquid before using her hands to brush back the rest of her messy hair that stuck out and covered her face. She reached down to her wrist and rolled an elastic hair and off her wrist and used it to tie up the hair into a loose pony tail, somewhat dealing with the mess and tangles.

"Damn it," she muttered, while catching her own gaze in the mirror. "I'm too hung up on my emotions right now, this isn't like me." She gripped the sides of the overtly unconventional sink and stared deeply into her own eyes. "Think. Rational Cynthia, rational... And now I'm talking to myself. Like a moron."

Cynthia was a strong woman. She always has been. But there was something about this whole situation that irked her deep down, just beneath the surface, like an itch she couldn't scratch. She didn't have much of a personal connection with the boy, but they were coworkers for a while, and he was quite charming and playful. He and Iris always brought light to their boring adult meetings, and Cynthia had subconsciously grown attached to the small amount of comfort that it had sustained her.

It's been so many years since she was young and playful, just happy to be living life. She swore, almost fifteen years ago, back when she was that old, that she would never lose that fun part of her personality.

Unfortunately, the real world is a bitter and cruel place, riddled with malice and ill intent. People are all snakes, corporations are frauds and she learned that very quickly. They'll exploit, manipulate and do anything for the thing they cherish most, control.

"Maybe instead of money now, they're after something different."

"What would they be after then, if not money?"

"..Control."

Lance had made a extremely valid point the night before, and she knew her brain had just latched onto it. The echoing "Control," played inside her head on loop, her gut instinct screaming at her that this was the answer. It was an inside job, and that league attempted to— or just killed Ash.

The reason she latched onto this theory was because she knew that it has a very strong basis. She realized many moons ago, how much people in control feel the need to stay that way, oftentimes going to extreme lengths in order to maintain that feeling.
Subsequently however, she got cold. Growing bitter and hollow on the inside, masked with a strong aura of maturity and strength.

Cynthia had gotten to comfortable around Ash, and his unruly personality, not one to be contained like they so obviously wanted him to be. A puppet on a stings, she was. They all were. Nobody was able to dictate their lives to live how they want, but Ash? He always seemed to just cut those strings, as if he never needed supports in the first place.

She always coughed it up to youthful ignorance, living in that bliss of youth that inevitably fades, but it never even wavered for him.

They tried to break him, but he never broke, bending and shooting right back up into a position higher than before. A master at what he does, being unpredictable.

The only thing about ash that was predictable was his love for Pokémon, and that Pikachu that always rests on his shoulder. They're Ash constants, in a life so hectic it stresses everyone but the man in the middle. He had always been an anomaly, and that's what made him amazing.

It's what made him admirable, even for someone much his senior.

"Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Incoming call from: Lance," the device called out to her.

"Speaking of the devil..." She muttered before looking over to her phone. She stared at the name displayed on the screen for a moment before answering the mobile call. "Hello?"

"Cynthia, it's Lance." Low quality audio of Lance speaking in a hush tone came over her speakers. He refused to upgrade his phone, so he was stuck with an old flip phone. With a gentle breath, she picked up the hovering phone and mounted it near the towel holder across from toilet. The speakers were loud enough for her to hear, even if Lance continued to speak in his hushed tone.

"What is it, Lance?"

There was silence over the end for minute before she her his vice break through

'We need to talk. Are you free to meet in 30 minutes at the cafe down the street from your hotel. The Kalosian themed one." She continued her bathroom routine, getting out of her day old clothes and placing them neatly on the counter.

"With the little froakie on the banner?" she responded while hastily putting on the pair of jeans that she had left out last night on the shelf next to the sink, not really considering showring despite definitely needing one. Her brain was much too scrambled to even be considered it at the current moment, which maybe said a lot about her mental state, but she made a mental note to try and hit the showers before she goes to sleep tonight, in the name of good hygiene.

"Yes. That's the one. Are you up for that?"

Cynthia thought about it for a moment before carefully responding. Truthfully, she had no interest in meeting with lance for any reason, let alone right now. But, he too also has a lot on his plate, perhaps even more than she does, considering he's the champion of two regions, one of which being the birthplace of Ash himself.

Lance wasn't one to skip out on his responsibilities, she knew that much. He was stuck up, and a stickler for getting things done on time and being punctual while doing so. A true by-the-book professional.

"Who else will be there?"

"Just us. Like we always do."

She wanted to make a quippy comment back in response, but something stopped her. She and Lance had never once gotten together alone for any reason before. He wasn't the type of man to pursue such close personal relationships unless they would strictly benefit him.

"...right. I'll see you in a bit."

He hung up the phone instantly after that. She stared at the "call ended" screen, with a mind racing faster than before. "What the..?" It was perplexing, but made her curious beyond all else.


Cynthia arrived at the cafe shortly after, while still a bit of a mess, she managed to tidy herself up just enough to not to appear that way. The restaurant itself was not particularly busy, no more than eight people total were inside.

There were a couple of college students behind the front counter and large glass display showing off a mix of some traditional Galarian and Kalos themed pastries. While they looked rather appetizing, she knew she didn't have much time to enjoy the sights.

She performed another scan of the building, and spotted Lance at the end of a row of boths, farthest from the windows. He was dressed similar to her, with the typical movie getup of a baseball cap and sunglasses. It may seem like a waste of time, but people are often too lost in their own lives to notice something that they aren't looking for. It's easy to keep your head down and get away with a simple disguise. Even if they're someone known world-wide, such as herself.

She took evenly paced steps down towards his booth, passing by only one table with people. A small group of three teens with their heads buried in their phones. Eventually, she found her way toward his booth and took a seat directly across from him, just as he adjusted his posture and sat up to match her height.

"Good afternoon, Cynthia. I'm sorry to call you here on such short notice."

"It's no problem, really." She responded, doing little to hide the annoyance in her tone.

"Ah, that's good to hear." He spoke in a happy tone, which itself was unsettling, but it was his face that offset her the most. He was deadpanned, lacking any serious emotion, contralty to how he sounded, like a peppy rich teen exuding fake kindness. "You see, I wanted to talk to you about something private, and doing it over the phone would be improper. So I had no choice, you see." He made an extremely obvious and dramatic dowards gesture, with two fingers pointing toward the surface of the table.

Looking down, she noticed a small notepad sitting directly across from him, with two pens postioned on each side of the table. Confuston swirled in her mind, as she looked up back towards the man. He understood what she was asking.

He removed the cap from the pen and scribbled onto the page. On it were the words. "They're listening. Act normal."

It didn't take her long to catch on after that. Acting quickly, she grabbed the notebook from him, and wrote just under his words with her own. "Who? What? Explain."

After reading what she put, he simply nodded and began talking while writing something completely different. "You see, after our last time getting together, I just had this feeling that we had something... special."

It was honestly impressive, he spoke of some complete and utter nonsense, remaining perfectly articulate, while writing what was actually important onto the page.

"I wanted to propose a potential business endeavor, for the two of us to start. A clothing line of sort. One exploiting our prestige as champions to market a luxury brand to those who may want to be like us."

"League. Phone tapped. Always watching, always listening. No text, no call. Be careful."

First she read the words, then her heart sank. Of course it was the league. They were as shady as shady could be. Especially recently, as they promoted a new majority shareholder to the ceo positioned, but kept it anonymous from everyone but the other investors. She had her doubts about it, but this only confirms that small theory of hers. It seems both her and Lance were onto something during their last champion meeting.

"So, Cynthia. What do you think? ..Of my proposal?"

Oh, right. She almost forgot about the fake conversation they were having. She didn't even realise she let the silence hang. The intensity of the atmosphere was getting to her.

"Sorry, I was just considering it. It seems like a good idea... just some questions arise regarding the ethics of both the marketing and manufacturing of the clothing."

"Ever the good mind, of course we would iron out all those details later, I just wanted to see if you would be interested. I'm sure with both of us on board, we could create something big. The only qualm would be the legality of our titles. I'm not sure how the trade marks apply, that's why I was curious in what you have to say."

As he spoke, she wrote another thing down onto her paper before handing it back over. "How can we communicate about this. Who can we trust?"

"Before you feel inclined to say no, have a look here.." Lance didn't hesitate to reach down beside him and pull out a bag. He plopped something down onto the table. "This is a prototype lineup of what couple be a phone case selection. What do you think?"

What he pulled out of the bag was not a phone case, or anything similar of the sorts. It was about eight palm sized devices that were a sleek black, with square LCD screens. She was confused as to what they were, but he was quick to hand her a pamphlet of information. She quickly scanned the text and pieced together what they were. Electromagnetic Communication devices that use a specific wavelength that somehow creates a secure signal. It was similar to what government officials use to speak to each other. Nearly untraceable communication.

Now that she understood what was happening, she continued with the facade they have been keeping up. "Wow Lance, these are indeed fascinating. I think you're onto something here."

"Thank you, that's what I like to hear."

Take four. Give to only to who you know you can trust. We'll talk on these later. Finish up here soon.

She read what he wrote and then nodded. She then stood up from her seat. "Well Lance, while I'm interested in this idea, you must know you've proposed at such a bad time. How about we come back to this later? Besides, don't we have a conference meeting between us champions and the league in the next couple of hours?"

Lance took four of the devices back and shoved them into his bag. She did the same, putting three into her purse strapped around her chest, and the other into her pocket.

"Im sorry, Cynthia. Perhaps it was an inappropriate time, I'll meet you at the conference then. Gooday." With that, he was gone. Disappearing down the aisle and almost dashing out of the store. The blonde champion shook her head and rubbed her face. So much was going on, and of course she was stuck in the middle of it all once again. She wanted to be angry at how this was happening, and all the stuff that she was being subject to, but it was part of the responsibility that she had took on all of those years ago.

There's also your dead friend.

Her brain seemed to constantly remind her that the boy she had grown fond of was indeed gone, and that this wa all of the by-product of that. An existential form of deniability. One she's aware of, but chooses to continue living in.

Yesterday she told herself it was about justice. Today she's not so sure she can keep calling it so. Either way, she was cominuted to the case.

Ash was a soul too good for this rotten world.

He deserves better than this.

She's not a hero.

But she'll save his legacy.

That's the least she can do. As a woman, as a champion, and as a friend.


It was written in the stone, every little piece. He walked along long and wide alley, the tip of his finger gently grazing along the stone engravings. They were chill to the touch, and written in a foreign language he was unable to understand. Illustrations were scattered amongst the text, few colours were used, but he was still able so different and make out figures meant to be people, and pokemon.

"I have so many questions."

Arceus followed silently behind him. The large god slowly and quietly lumbering in his wake.

They had been here for an indefinite amount of time. There was no way to tell how long it had been, or even at what pace time was passing. There was no sun in the sky, only clouds and faint blue, with light shining from everywhere, all at once. Even below his feet there was nothing, but it still felt like he was walking on something. A surface of air, maybe. He wasn't really sure. He was not nearly smart enough to rationalize any of this in his brain.

He turned toward one of the scriptures. Depicted within it was a poorly drawn diagram of a man, or a boy, kneeling down with a Pokéball, offering it to a small Pokémon near the ground. More carefully, he attempted read the dialogue marked just above it, and he felt a cold chill run up his spine. Somewhere deep in his mind, it set off all of the wrong types of sensors in his brain.

"This looks familiar," His eyes slowly trailed down along the rest of the wall in it's nearly infinite size, as it disappeared into the foggy distance. "What is this? Why do I feel this.. odd sense of nostalgia when I look at it?"

"This is your timeline, Ash." The god finally responded. "Marked in stone. Immortal for the rest of time. The events of your life depicted from an outside perspective. Me, the observer. My perspective."

"My timeline...?" He closed his eyes and slowly peeled his hand away. "...what is that supposed to mean?"

Suddenly it all made sense. All the markings formed a story. One all too familiar. It was his story. The implications of such a monument were heavy. Instantly, he felt a crushing weight bear down upon him "...Was my life was predetermined?"

Arceus seemed to ponder it's response for a moment,letting the comment fermint in the heavy air. "Predetermined? No. Everyone of my children has an infinite amount of paths that they could end up walking. However, in the case of my chosen few, they have far less."

Ash clenched his fist. "...A puppet on strings. I-" he scratched at his head while his shoulders slumped down. "-I just don't get it. What's the point? Why are you showing me this?"

"Perhaps you do not understand. While your minor existential crisis is... understandable , and mildly entertaining, I like to think of myself as a merciful being, who is fair in his ways. The inner workings of my intentions are far beyond your need of knowing. Simply listen, and follow. Your questions are worthless to me."

With the light slam of a foot, the scene changed. A rumble ripped out through the negative space. It was followed by the stone engravings suddenly disappearing, turning the surfaces of the wall smooth and dark grey, completely untainted.

"I am merely the creator. I simply watch, observe, and predict. Rarely do I intervene." The god had a momentary lapse in it's speech, despite it's uneed to draw any breath.Then the walls suddenly sparked to life, faded imagery dancing along its surface. Hundreds of faces he's never seen, and creatures beyond his farthest possible imagination. So many flashes that once another came, the features of the past were forgotten. Some were alien looking, other beastly, and others slight variations of pokemon he recognized. They flashes so quickly that his brain was barely able to keep up with them. More and more, until they combined into a mesh of white which exploded into the environment around them. A sphere formed around the two of them from the resulting light. He simply watched as reality shifted and the fabric of space conformed to the will of the god in front of him.

"When a person, or pokemon gains life, many paths are immediately laid out for them." The scene shifted to show a beam of light, shooting directly between the two of them." Some more plausible than others." The beam of light began to frey, multiple, smaller beams shooting off into different directions. Some straight up, down left, and around, but all in a different direction than the last. "There are an infinite amount of dimensions and universes created by my first children, across both space and time, and infinite amount of variables within those universes." The light faded from view, while the surface of the bubble around them morphed to show many different people. Some men, other women. They bared little resemblance, other than the key trait of two small zigzags underneath their eyes. All of them having this in the exact same place, and the exact same size. "No mortal such as you could ever hope to grasp such a complicated subject, no matter how much you may try, so it's fruitless of my to go into any further detail. However, I thought it was important that I would show you this before, to help you understand why I would even make you that offer in the first place. Why I would invest so much in you specifically, rather than any other of the variants of you that may exist. Because I assure you, chosen one, you are the only one I've spoken to like this."

He looked at the bubble, and all of the people who he had learned to be different versions of him. So many of them were different in skin tone, or hair colour and style, but they were in fact him. He could sense it, or rather, he just knew. But as quickly as they faded in, they faded out. The bubble becoming a blank canvas of sky, which then receded into the nothingness, along with the strange beam of light that raced between them. It all became nothing once more, leaving the two of them back in the hall of origins and in the middle of the stone engravings.

"I bring you here, I show you this, and I explain to you what goes unsaid because... when you were born, your path was blank, Ash. Even in my infinite wisdom, have I never seen something like it. You're truly special, chosen one. The first human in complete control of his own destiny. Do you understand now? Paths converge from one another, spirling off from one central path set by me, but not you. I show you this because, Ash, you are not governed by any otherworldly powers. In Fact, you're an anomaly.

Here you stand, forever written into my walls. A tale as only as old as time itself, an image more incredible than I would've been able to craft myself. The legacy you created will forever live on, and those in the mortal world will be affected by the loss of your presence. To put it simply, your death was unforeseen, and quite unjust for someone like you. That offer I made you, think about it once more. Do you want to continue this story? Or is this where it ends. Just like how it's always been: You decide whether your legacy ends here, or is rewritten henceforth. I give you this opportunity as your creator."

Ash simply stared, dumbfounded. In all honesty, he was having a hard time following. Then again, how could any of this make any sense at all. He was dealing with things that are meant to be beyond the grasp of his knowledge in the first place. His life was a privilege, special even. But even still, he didn't view it that way.

Ash rubbed his arm. "...My mom, my friends and my Pokémon. They're all I can think about right now. How can my legacy be something I'm thinking about?! And What about Pikachu!? How is Pikachu doing?!"

"Ah, you feel it now right? Those deep rooted emotions slowly rising up from within you, those feelings, and memories, that transcend space and time itself. Tell me, chosen one. What do you value? Are you willing to sacrifice who you are?"

"I, maybe... do you think it's selfish of me?"

"Selfishness is often a pure reflection of one's desires. You want to live. That is not selfish, merely what I have programmed all living creates to do. You included. However, due to some sense of morality, they may view the negative consequences of an action to far outweigh the positive aspects. But I need not partake in the worries of the mortal mind.

You lived your life in the name of others, years of servitude to the ties that bind. While you were free from my will, others around you were not. You story was ultimately guided by my influence. Perhaps, my creation, it's time you start living for yourself. I offered you a deal, so now it's time for you decided whether you truly want to follow through with it. I leave it to you, boy. Free from chains, will you let fate carve your way, or will you continue to carve your own?"

Ash looked up toward the god, and then once more down toward the blank stone. "I accept your deal, Arceus."


Ash looked up toward the god, and then once more down toward the blank stone. "I accept your deal, Arceus."

"Very well, a wise choice indeed."

With that, the vessel of the teenager was gone, completely faded from view. Arceus merely stood in it's bodily form, just staring down the endlessly long hallway, and at the millions of small and large engravings as they curved and disappearing over the horizon. He watched as they proceeded to change and shift, and rewrite themselves off in a distant point.

"Mew," It suddenly spoke into the void. "Show yourself."

The lord of creation was met by a giggle and a wave from a pink floating pokemon who seemed to just appear out of nowhere. "Hehe father. As sharp as ever I see. It's like you haven't aged one bit in the last 13 billion years!"

"Time is entirely a creation of my own. Of course I know out to wield it."

Mew covered its mouth with it's paws and spun around a couple more times with another laugh. "Well brother did help you with that."

"You know that is not the case. Time began with the birth of Dialga. Him along with Palkia, are the physical embodiments of space and time. One cannot exist without the other. They are intertwined. They stabilize our reality. Yet again you confuse the past."

"Yeeeahh. Anyway, Sheesh, thank goodness that burden doesn't fall on me. I can't imagine what that must feel like." Mew spun around a few times. "So father, you must me curious as to why I'm stalking you, hehe." Mew swirled around and raised itself higher into the air. It was then when the scenery shifted once more into completely completely different. Stars and cosmic dust surrounded the both of them, swirling all over the space in the effect of zero gravitational influence.

"I am not." The creator was stern, and straight to the point. "Your natural curiosity is a product of the powers I ingrained in you. It is of no surprise that you can't help but try and eavesdrop."

"It's just, I've never seen you bring a human to this plane before, so I just had to see for myself. And I was right, it was quite interesting indeed. I've been alive for almost as long as you, father, and never in that gargantuan amount of time have I seen you lie. Yet you just lied to his face. It's just more things I don't understand. The boy is a hero, one pure of soul. I've never seen anything like it. He's even saved you at one point! I don't think that's worthy of being told a flat-faced lie."

"There are some things you simply cannot understand mew. This is one of them. My motives are beyond your need of knowing."

"Yes, yes. That is your favorite line.I'm just taken aback." Mew looked around for a second and laughed. The cosmic dust in the far distance began to form a similar picture. "..The cat's eye nebula. Is you teleporting us to my birthplace supposed to be some sort of clue? If so I will figure it out." A beam of red, yellow and blue energy shot out the back of the excited mew. "This is so interesting!"


Saffron City, Kanto.

The sounds of a purring persian ruminate though the mostly empty room, as meaty hands gently caressed the chin and head of the Pokémon. It rolled around in the lap of a man sat in his chair as he scrolled through some sort of document on the large computer screen opposite of him. Behind the screen was another man, he wore a thick red cape and had long grey hair that fell upon his back. He was bowing, awaiting the other man in the stance of respect and servitude.

After clicking around on an untitled document, the man moved his mouse around one final time before the screen went dark, shrouding him in an ominous shadow.

"The job is done, sir." The second man said, speaking into the silence. The first man didn't respond, instead choosing to continue petting the Pokémon. The persian gave a quiet yawn before putting it's head down to sleep.

"I pulled him aside this morning, and finished the job right there. No witnesses, and it was quick. He suffered, for a short time. But he didn't last long after that. I have evidence."

The man moved his long hair out of his eye, before taking a step forward and displaying a small phone screen in the direction of the other. The man in the shadow did not smile upon seeing the image, merely remaining stoic.

"Well done, Tobias. I always knew you had it in you. I admit however, I expected him to put up more of a fight."

Tobias raised his head slightly at the approval. It was rare for him to ever be achloweed, despite all he's done for the cause. "Thank you, sir. It wasn't easy. But I understand that it had to be done. For the greater good."

"Yes, yes." The man waved his large hand. "Your efforts are valued. Now please make haste in your exit, as field team 6 is in need of your assistance."

"Of course, sir." Tobias nodded again and quickly made his way toward the exit. The large steel doors on the far side of the room opened as he approached, and slide back quickly upon him stepping out, sealing the man in by himself. He sat alone for some time, still petting the pokemon beneath him, quietly letting his thoughts marinitate. For the first time in a while, everything was going as planned. While he has little doubt in the ability of Tobias, Ash ketchum has always been one to throw a wrench in the plans of villains. He's stupidly persistent, and when one isn't careful, their entire operation just seems to implode before him. But he's learned.

Now he's the one in the driver's seat. Of course, there's still a chance that by some miracle, the boy managed to survive the murder, or worse, come back from the dead. But it's not like he's not expecting that. Giovanni has seen the clips, the boy is practically a phoenix, with the amount of times he's come back from the dead. It's happened before, and it could happen again.

However, even if he does come back, this should buy him time. More than enough to set his plan in place.

"Sir," he wasn't able to think much, until a woman's voice buzzed over the intercom, "A man named 'Lysandre' requests an immediate audience with you."

...and the pieces continue to fall into place. The slightest of smiles broke onto the man's face. Reaching over to the metallic keypad sticking out of the left corner of his desk, Giovanni pressed down the "#" key. This opened up the line to the other end. "Send him in."

Thirty seconds had yet to pass before a large man with a fiery orange hair waltzed into the room. His posture was upright, exuding confidence, despite multiple injuries being clearly visible. Most notability, a thick scar across his cheek, and a eye patch over his left eye.

"Lysandre," the man behind the desk gently nursed the cat pokemon off of him and finally slowly stood up, pulling himself away from the shadow burying his features. "You look well, for a dead man."

Lysandre nodded in return. Small and pleasant, formal in eddiqutte. Despite having a rough voice, he spoke in a demeanored tone. "..Thank you, but I could say the same for you. You're looking quite swell for a man with so much on his plate. I hear you've been recently promoted. Chairman of the pokemon league can't be easy to balance with the rest of your work. How do you find the time Giovanni?"

"It's all about managing your resources." A faint red glow began to fade in from a small circular steel plate located just next to his old wooden desk. "Now, onto business."

Giovanni stepped toward the glowing plate in the ground. "As you know. You're the last recruit, and the leaders are patiently awang your presence. They're eager to meet you. As am I." Giovanni motioned for lysandre. He also began to slowly approach the mysterious red glowing technology.

"Welcome to Team Rainbow Rocket, Lysandre."

With that, the two vanished into thin air.