𝕬𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓
ACT II - DUST OF DREAMS
Chapter 22 - No Way Out
The pain awoke him.
Samuel came to his senses submerged in darkness, feeling a constant stream of freezing cold water running around him. His head hurt enough to ignore the pain that the Disable put on his knees, and his wrists and shoulders hurt even more from the manacles that Proton had put on him. He tried to focus, but the sheer freezing sensation prevented him. It was odd since his shirt felt completely dry. It made no sense—
Samuel Oak blearily opened his eyes and found himself staring at Proton.
"Bravo," the delusional Team Rocket member barked. "Few pokémon have been able to get out of a Confusion attack like that. You really are something special, aren't you old man?" He paused, his smile widening as he chuckled. "But you haven't broken through it yet, have you? You only recognize it for what it is. Such a pity!"
As much as he hated it, Samuel knew Proton was right. The freezing sensation was a sinister trick played on his mind, probably by Sabrina herself. Even if he knew it wasn't real, his body still felt it—
Oak screamed as the freezing doubled in intensity. His muscles were cramping painfully as his spine felt like it froze over completely. Biting his lip, he looked towards the rest of the hall from the corner of his eye. Distinguished guests, delegates, members of the Elite and the League. Hell, Champion Lance himself was among the crowd.
As was Red.
And they were all helplessly watching him suffer.
Coeus, he tried again. Coeus. Come to me.
But he got no answer. What was happening? Surely his alakazam would consider his life a far greater priority than anything else? Unless…
Unless he did.
Then… why wasn't he here already?
He glanced back at Red, whose eyes felt oddly glassy as if he wasn't even looking. His eyes then fell on Steven. No answer. No expression on their faces. Nothing.
Suddenly, Samuel felt the pressure lessen from his jaws. He could speak again— Proton wanted him to speak again.
"You got Mewtwo. What else do you want?"
Something ugly brewed in the depths of Proton's gaze. "That I did. But now, I want something else. I want to crush you before I kill you. I'm hoping you will give me a hint on how to proceed with that."
"I would recommend otherwise," Sabrina— her killer persona —tonelessly said. "Samuel Oak is a member of the Early Warning System. He is intimately tied to the clans and holds a position on the Watchtower. He has considerable information about Ilex Forest and its unique signatures."
"Is that right?" Proton looked like the cat that caught the canary as if he'd just been given a gift he hadn't known he wanted. "Is that so, Sabrina? Do tell me more."
Meanwhile, Samuel looked at Sabrina with growing alarm. That was all strictly confidential information. The only people who knew about the Early Warning System were those involved in it. And Sabrina, as well as the other two girls, were definitely not members of such an insulated group.
Agatha would sooner smother them in their sleep.
Then it has to be a betrayal.
But who? It couldn't have been Blaine. For all his precociousness, Blaine was a man of science. He was never one to worry about esoteric concepts and things the clans busied their minds with.
Just how far did this web of deceit and infiltration go? Samuel refused to believe Team Rocket was behind all of this. No, he had enough experience with criminal organizations to know how brotherhoods existed within brotherhoods, with secrets being kept from almost everyone except the uppermost echelons of the group.
Where was Team Rocket in this hierarchy of shadows? Did— did they even matter in the grand scheme of things? This brazen scheme would attract the ire of every government in the world. Was this why they were so casual about risking the future of their organization in such a suicidal manner?
I need to fish for more information.
At least until something happened. Coeus. Delia. Steven. Even Red. Or Mia… That odd fairy was far too deeply connected with her trainer-sibling not to realize that something had gone horribly wrong.
"Samuel Oak…" Proton murmured. "I'll be frank. You have faced a great many dangerous entities in your fruitful life. My father happens to be one of them. For the most part, those people have been idiots, underestimating you each time until it was too late to prevent their own demise. I won't make that mistake."
And despite everything, Oak allowed himself a grin. "You're afraid of me."
"I'd be a fool not to be," he admitted. "You've destroyed two organizations with your own power. You overthrew my father's stronghold and took Kanto and Johto for yourself. You are the only one who holds a precious offspring of the World Eater but isn't a Wataru. My father was stupid enough to make an enemy out of you. But I think your talents could serve me better."
"First you torture me, and now you're offering me a job," Oak drawled. "Clearly, Ghetsis was remiss in teaching you the finer points in diplomacy."
He could help but chuckle. He was bound, in pain, and about to lose his life as well as his life's work. And here he was, talking smack about the bad guy to his face.
The kid's been rubbing off on me more than I care to admit.
His eyes flickered towards said kid once more. His eyes were still glassy as if he wasn't even there. Was he conversing with Mia?
Interesting.
"And what is it you need me for?"
Proton smiled. The bastard. "Ah. I take it that this is the part of the conversation where I reveal my evil plans to you in all their carefully planned glory?"
"What have you got to lose?"
"And now you expect me to tell you any vulnerabilities they might have as well. I'm wounded by the lack of professional respect this gesture implies."
"Chicken."
Proton pursed his lips. He cast a casual glance at the crowd, then at the group that was getting the Birth Pod ready for transport. "It is enough for you to know that one of two things will happen. Either you willingly submit to the Initiation, or," he glanced in Red's direction, "we will kill the boy. Then we will kill you."
A chill went down Samuel's spine. Proton said it in such a matter-of-fact manner, without any melodrama to it. He may as well have been talking about the weather.
"I respect you, Samuel Oak. You are too dangerous to be left to your own devices, I'm afraid. Especially given the circumstances. But I'd rather have you by my side."
"As a puppet."
"You would have your brilliant mind and your passion for all things pokémon. All the Initiation would do is shift your loyalties to me. Ideally, you would share our vision for the world and none of this would be necessary. But we don't always get what we want, now do we?"
He snorted. "Do you really think there's a world where you could have convinced me to join you?"
"I do. Because I know you. I know more about you than you do yourself."
"Such as?" he shot back.
"Such as why you chose this kind of life for yourself. You gave away your power and authority, and you settled down in a corner of the world where nobody could see you. Even then, your greatness escaped your hold and branched out into the world. You can lie about how you were tired of it all and wanted a peaceful life of research, but I know better." Proton leaned forward, hands on his hips. "You do it because that is what you will allow yourself. Because you're afraid."
Proton's sheer confidence unsettled Samuel. "Afraid of what?"
"Of what you could be if you ever went astray of your well-intentioned path. Of the power at your fingertips. You're one of the few men who could bend the world to your will. The things you could have. The people. Some part of you has considered using your abilities to take what you wish, and you're afraid of that joy. So you isolate yourself, physically and politically, preferring to ignore your own power. Ghetsis was blind not to see it, but I am not my father."
Oak wanted to deny his words. To forcefully throw them back at his face with a dash of disrespect.
But he couldn't. He was right— or, at least, not wholly wrong.
"Everyone has thoughts like that."
Proton shook his head. "Most do not. They cannot fathom what it means to hold power— true power —in their hands. Team Rocket has held it, and now it wants to spread its wings and fly. To Ascend. Yet you, who could have done the same, instead chose to chain yourself to an incompetent League, marching under the orders of a worm not fit to shine your shoes."
Someone made an unhappy grunt. Probably Lance.
"And I know your protégé is now traveling a similar path. There is no other reason for you to demonstrate the interest you have shown in him otherwise." Proton's voice was almost compassionate as he dissected Samuel's very life. "You are trapped. You are lying to yourself. You pretend to be like everyone else because you are too terrified to admit that you're not."
"I won't join you," Oak spat. "I will break, perhaps, but not bend. Not to the likes of you."
Proton stared, then grinned. "So be it. Sabrina—"
The altered psychic-user stood ready to follow his command.
"—perform the Initiation on Red Ketchum."
Samuel's eyes bulged out. No, that couldn't be happening. How did Sabrina know about—
He froze.
It can't be.
Proton knew about the codes. Sabrina had been left to take care of Saffron City after Lance placed her as its Gym Leader. Saffron was one of the most important commercial centers in Kanto and the host for Silph Co. Headquarters. If Team Rocket was using Sabrina to perform the Initiation on people over the years, prolific and otherwise…
An icy chill ran down his spine.
Just how much of their government was compromised? Was there even a League left in the first place, or was it just a puppet whose strings were pulled from the shadows?
"Your problem is with me," Samuel growled. "Leave the boy alone!"
"Not if he holds the same potential you do. You may be powerful and past your prime, but Red is in the perfect position to be molded into one of ours. It will be fitting since he was responsible for the death of my own protégé."
"No. Please." It was fitting, seeing as how he was already on his knees. "Kill me if you must, but spare the boy. Let him go."
Proton stared at him impassively for a moment. "You will not reconsider?"
"No."
"And what stops me from simply killing him and then bending your mind to my will forcibly?"
Samuel glared back with unshakeable resolve. "Even if you take control of me, a part of me will always fight it. And you will have to worry every day for the rest of your life about a dagger finding its way into your back. It may be today, or it may be a decade from now. But when your grasp over me loosens even a smidge, your life will end."
Proton openly laughed. "Samuel Oak, what a worthless man you are. First, you throw away your life's work for a no-name child. Then you sacrifice your own life for him. So be it."
As Sabrina walked over to him, Samuel looked at her with pity. She looked like any other girl planning her activities for the day. To her, he was no longer even a person. He was an item on her checklist. Ending his life was akin to crossing out a task on her to-do list.
"Finish him," Proton snarled.
She roughly grabbed him by the chin. He thrashed around his bonds, hanging onto the desperate hope that they might break and give him a chance to fight. But the Disable was powerful, keeping him restrained like a dog on a leash.
Sabrina watched patiently as he exhausted himself with his fruitless, desperate efforts. Then she took a fistful of his chair and pulled his chin up, twisting his head to the right.
"Be still. It will only hurt for a moment. Now, look into my eyes."
Oak felt his eyelids open against his will as he bit back the scream that was about to erupt from his—
"No."
Sabrina paused.
Oak whipped his head in Red's direction when he spoke up again, his voice cold and devoid of life.
"Not him. Kill me instead."
No, wait, what are you doing Red—
Sabrina met his anxious eyes. A strange light flashed in his eyes, and Samuel began to topple over.
He was out before his cheek hit the ground.
Delia Ketchum stared at the solitary ramshackle that was Diglett Cave. The dilapidated industrial unit was the last place on anyone's mind, but with the information she had at hand, she had immediately rushed towards this location. Opening the car door, she walked out of the cab. She hadn't wanted to knock the driver out and steal his cab, but time was running out. As fun as it would've been to rush across the city on a massive arcanine, it was both attention-grabbing and… a little too macho for her taste.
Squad 7 will drill its way underground from Diglett Cave into the Waiting Area of the Museum. Their job will be to incapacitate the guards. Once the Pod is secure, we will transport it back to Diglett Cave, where the aircrafts are awaiting underground to take us out of the city.
Cassidy had been a half-addled, nauseating bitch. But one look into Kaz's eyes, and she'd waxed lyrical about Team Rocket's plans. The Disable Ward around Museum Central, how Admin Proton would be leading the attack, the Squads attacking the Benteng and the main city premises to serve as a very noisy distraction.
And that was only what she was authorized to know.
As much as Delia wanted otherwise, rushing into Pewter Museum now would only make a mess of things. If Team Rocket had already taken over, she'd be captured at best and horrifically killed at worst. No, she'd have to trust Samuel to keep Red safe. Plus, there were Ace Squads and other League-implemented defenses in place.
If she really wanted to help her son, she would need to create an even bigger distraction. She'd need to use the big guns. Fortunately for her, she was carrying two of them.
But why use two when she could use them all?
"Come out everyone!" Delia ordered, releasing all of Red's team, except for the baby dratini and shellder, in a flood of bright light. Mawile, ever the curious soul, peered around at the rundown site, probably wondering why Delia had brought them here. Delia had a sneaking suspicion that Red's starter didn't like her. The skarmory appeared between the scyther and the vividly purple growlithe, and Mia appeared next, instantly levitating a few inches above the ground. Her disdain for staying on the ground was comparable to an avian—
Delia quietly considered Skarmory.
—perhaps more than an avian, which was saying something.
Then came her Mr. Mime, who took two wobbly steps before looking around quizzically, awaiting further instructions. And then finally, the last pokémon appeared— with all of his fifteen hundred pounds of massive, leonine, quadrupedal and monstrously fleshy form covered with shaggy, beige fur. His four large paws ended with sharp claws and seemed to make the terrain crack by simply standing on it, while his billowing, beige tail was almost hidden within the thick layers of fire-like fur that grew from his hind legs and spine.
This was Orca, Samuel's Champion-tier Arcanine.
In hindsight, maybe bringing out the others was unnecessary, since Orca was capable of leveling the entire structure on its own. But her son's team was only starting out, and the experience of seeing bigger, more powerful pokémon in action would do them some good.
And given how the young growlithe was staring at Orca in a mix of disbelief, surprise, awe, and a dab of fear, this event would surely make a lasting impression on their minds.
"Alright, this is what we need to do," Delia barked. "Mia. I want you to shatter this entire floor. We need to get to whatever is beneath this."
The oddly-colored gardevoir looked at her and tilted her head as if questioning the orders. Even Orca peered at her curiously, probably wondering why anyone would ask a gardevoir for help.
"We need to shatter this base. For Red," she emphasized.
That did the trick. Mia flew several feet into the air and raised both arms and—
"Mia," Delia called out. The gardevoir paused. "Don't hold back. Wreak havoc!"
A ghost of a smile flickered on the gardevoir's face as she stretched her arms forward, palms downward and facing the concrete structure below.
Then, it happened.
A crushing, oppressive force came down upon the ground like the rage of a vengeful god. The concrete floor didn't shatter— it exploded. The entire structure was crushed like a grape getting obliterated by a sledgehammer. The sheer power behind the move ripped through the terrain, belching out a tidal wave of fire and dust clouds in all directions. And above it all, like an avenging angel delivering judgment, was Mia.
Unmoving. Just levitating.
"This… this power…" Delia whispered, failing to think of words to describe the scene. "Is this the power of a—"
The rest of her question died in her throat as she realized that standing at a hundred-yard distance from a site of impact was not safe.
"…Shit!"
Her hands were already crossed above her head, but Mr. Mime had already raised up walls, enclosing them from above and in three directions.
A wall of pure force slammed against it like an angry hammer of God.
Orca growled. The rest of Red's team, barring Skarmory, looked terrified. Mr. Mime doubled his power.
The shields buckled, but they held.
And after the dust settled, after the force vanished like it was never there at all, after Mia slowly came back down from the sky, Delia gaped at the sight in front of her.
Diglett Cave was gone.
A bead of sweat made its way down her face. "Maybe Orca was the unnecessary one."
Ritchie could hear the battle happening all around him. He could still taste the blood and death in the air. He knew it was going on— but Princess was here, and it needed help. Immediate help. The sudden transformation from nidorino to nidoking had been a nerve-wracking, agonizing process. It was only natural that it had gone into a rampage, especially with Astrid— that bitch —having thrown it onto the street like a freaking ball.
The police quickly responded. And it was bad.
A single nidoking could only take so many tranquilizer darts. During his Team Rocket training, he learned that standard police detainment procedures used a drug known as Carfentanil, an opioid around ten thousand times more potent than morphine. And it was multiple doses of that that brought Princess down to the ground, groaning in agony.
And yet, nobody but him seemed to care. Instead of paying attention to the pokémon in distress, everyone instead focused on fighting this blasted war that he didn't even want to fight in the first place.
Ritchie couldn't help the involuntary shudder that went through him. It was like being forced to watch Zippo freeze to death all over again.
"RITCHIE!"
He snapped out of it and looked towards Astrid, who followed up with a resounding backhand.
"Release your pokémon and fight! Otherwise, you're gonna fucking die!"
"And whose fault is that?!" he snarled back.
"Cut the bullshit," came Trip's voice, the ass-kisser backing Astrid as he always did. He seemed at ease as his serperior engaged several growlithes all by itself. "We have our orders. We need to follow them."
"But Princess—"
"Your precious Princess can get its beauty sleep when the mission's complete."
The mission. It was all about the mission.
While Executives Butch and Pierce engaged the Ace Corps and fought to reach the outer gates of the Museum, it was the Grunt squads' responsibility to take care of the police presence in the Benteng and provide support if it became necessary.
If you screw it up, I'll squeeze the life out of every pokémon on your team with my bare hands, Butch had warned him.
Glancing at Princess one last time, Ritchie raised his pokéball and quickly returned it, replacing it with two more pokéballs that contained Zippo and his newly acquired magmar.
"Okay," he breathed. "Three positions between here and the Museum, right?"
"Yeah," Trip said.
"We're heading to the opening between the northernmost two," Astrid casually explained as her absol tore into a hitmonchan with a well-executed Night Slash. "Executive Pierce's team will help us with one of them. The idea is to bottleneck the League's forces from aiding the Museum."
"But the Champion and the others are—"
"Inside the Museum. They can't fight us if they don't have their teams with them, now can they?"
Ritchie frowned. "I thought the idea was to wait until Proton exited the Museum."
Astrid shook her head. "If we don't stop the advance, then the Champion and other Elites inside may be able to break out. Even if Proton makes an exit, he won't make it too far if the League attacks him from all sides. Especially with this anti-teleport ward all around," she scowled.
"Why can't our people just break through it?" Trip snapped.
Astrid shot him a bittersweet smile. "You want to put your luck against Samuel Oak's Champion-tier Alakazam? Be my guest."
Ritchie took a second to turn all the information over in his head, squirming uncomfortably all the while. "So we're rushing into a meat grinder as early as we can, and then engaging the incoming army as fast as we can… all so that Proton can escape with whatever he needs to before shit hits the fan?"
"And before the Ace Corps from the Plateau arrives and kills us all," Trip added.
Ritchie closed his eyes, before sighing. "Yeah. I figured as mu—"
BOOM!
An overwhelming pressure slammed into Ritchie, throwing him across the floor like a ragdoll. Shaking his head, he did his best to ignore the stars swirling in front of his eyes as he looked around at his teammates.
Astrid and Trip were in a similar state, and so was every other person around— Grunt or police.
"What the hell was that?"
"That," Astrid replied, her lips twisting in acute distaste, "was shit hitting the fan."
A sudden silence overtook the massive hall once Red made his declaration.
"Well well well," Proton's baritone voice rang out among the audience. "This is an interesting turn of events, isn't it? The Disable is keeping everyone, including the famous Lance Wataru himself, completely silent. And yet you, a child of… what, sixteen?"
"Fourteen," Red groused.
Proton arched an eyebrow. "Truly? Your eyes seem to be older. Tell me, Red Ketchum, how is it that you are able to break through the Disable's effects and speak when those with twice your age and experience can't?"
It was a fair question. In fact, Red hadn't even noticed when the Disable had been put back into effect. Then again, he'd been deep within his own mind, trying to converse with Mewtwo, whose—
Whose—
—whose cells were within his body. As part of his own.
The cells of what was probably the most powerful psychic-type to ever exist.
Proton crouched in front of him, close enough that Red was within spitting distance of the man's heterochromatic eyes. "Is this the protégé that the Boogeyman has been training in secret? An accomplished Aura user like himself, or perhaps even another of those Guardians?"
"He does not know what that means."
Red paused, before realizing it was Sabrina's robotic voice that spoke those words aloud. Immediately afterward came the second realization that she had just read his mind.
Just how were you supposed to outwit an enemy who could read every thought like an open book?
"You cannot," Sabrina replied blandly. "I remember you, Red Ketchum. Your thoughts were veiled back when we last met. Yet, they are not any longer." She tilted her head. "I wonder why."
Red couldn't help himself. "And here I thought you didn't read minds."
"Sabrina," Proton growled. "Do not chat with him. Initiate him, before—"
BOOOM!
The overwhelming sound crashed against Red's eardrums like an angry truck. It wasn't more than a full-blown speaker system blaring next to the eardrum, but considering how far away he probably was from the actual explosion, it spoke volumes about its sheer strength.
It reminded him of the explosion Mia had caused back on the mountain—
Red's eyes widened.
But before he could finish the thought, one of the grunts came up from the lower floors, a small radio transmitter in hand. "Sir, we have—"
"What the hell was that explosion?!" Proton exploded, his face contorted with fury. The expression felt alien on someone who'd thus far given the impression of being in absolute control of his emotions. "Where did it happen?"
The man hesitated before answering. "…Diglett Cave."
"HOW?" Proton thundered. "Who was responsible?!"
The grunt swallowed, slowly taking a step back. "I— we have no idea, sir."
The Team Rocket Admin cursed, his voice several octaves higher than before, and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. With the way his eyes were darting around, Red could tell he was thinking fast. Considering avenues. Thinking about possible repercussions.
"Sir—"
"Is the Pod ready for transport?"
"Yes sir."
"Get it into one of our trucks."
"But sir—"
"Just do it!" Proton snapped. He whipped his neck back in Sabrina's direction and pointed towards her. "Get the Initiation done, pronto. And follow it up with every single person here."
It said something about the command that even Sabrina— robotic, unfeeling master psychic-user —hesitated at the command, before looking back at him for confirmation.
"Ariana!" he barked.
"Sir?"
"Kill anyone who resists. I don't want to take any chances," he growled. "And get me an eye on this mess. Whoever destroyed our base there is going to wish he were dead."
Plucking out an ultraball from his belt, he released the creature held within. A large, bat-like pokémon with two pairs of wings on either side and a large mouth in the center emerged. It had two beaded eyes and a pair of clawed feet protruding from the bottom.
Crobat, Red quickly realized. It was the ultimate form of zubat— immensely difficult to evolve, but capable of soundless flight. Their ability to outspeed their opponents was matched by the deadly neurotoxins their bodies produced. If there was a pokémon that epitomized the concept of an assassin, it would be crobat.
"Bring him," Proton ordered. The crobat silently picked up Oak's unmoving body with its claws.
"Where are you taking the old man?" Red demanded. "Let him—"
Sabrina grabbed his chin with her cold, dainty fingers and brought it nose-to-nose with her own. "Samuel Oak will live. For now. And seeing as your psychic threads are no longer cannibalistic towards my own, I can finally commune with them. Please cooperate."
Red tried wrenching his head towards the crobat, but Sabrina's grip was firm.
"And if I refuse?" he responded, angered by the whole situation.
"You are young, Red Ketchum. It is a great tragedy when someone of your potential dies before his time."
Red wanted to turn away. He recognized the perfect surety in her expression as something beyond rampant ego and fanatic conviction. It was madness— pure madness. Whatever else this puppet-Sabrina was, she was calmly and horribly insane.
His mouth felt dry. His body wanted to run, or hide, or escape. But none were viable options. Not if he wanted to save the old man.
"Don't do this, Sabrina," he pleaded with as much conviction as possible. "Remember who you are."
The talk-his-way-out-of-problems maneuver wasn't particularly successful. It hadn't worked against Travers. It hadn't worked against Mewtwo. And by the looks of it—
"I prefer to attempt reason before I destroy a mind. Are you certain you will not cooperate?"
—it wouldn't work with Sabrina either.
There was a sudden whirling sensation, and Red found himself caught in a gale that slowly pulled him towards her. He opened his mouth to defy her, but his jaws no longer moved. He tried to raise his arms, but they felt leadened. His shirt didn't stir though. Neither did his hair. Then the wind was—
It was non-physical. A hideous vacuum that wasn't meant for his body. It was targeting his thoughts.
"That is correct," the psychic user said.
Red gritted his teeth— or, at least tried to. This monster was feeding on her mind, and he was utterly helpless to stop her.
Or… was he?
Growing up with an alakazam that treated him like an annoying younger brother had its share of disadvantages. But occasionally, it had its positives. Like now.
Red pulled on every bit of his helplessness, his frustrations with Team Rocket, his anger at Mewtwo's indifference towards humanity. He vividly remembered the unimaginable pain that his body had been subjected to by that fateful pikachu's electric shock. Adding to that his hatred and revulsion at what these delusional maniacs were doing to the old man, he brought the amalgam to the forefront of his thoughts.
That was something he learned from Kaz: emotions and thoughts went hand-in-hand. For someone like Sabrina who was practically swimming in his thoughts, it was like bringing the water to a boil.
Sabrina reeled back in shock, shaking as she took a few steps back.
"That was…" she panted, "a most uncon— unconventional defense." Her chest heaved as her unemotional gaze thawed, replaced by a glint of something more dangerous. "I did not expect that."
"Sabrina?" the other girl— Aria-something —inquired, her tone concerned. "Is everything alright?"
"Never been better," Sabrina grinned, her smile gaining an edge. "This is going to be fun. It has been ages since I've enjoyed a good hunt."
Editor: Solo Starfish, the best goddamn starfish the world has ever seen.
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