Chapter 13: Galactic Ambitions
The sun hung low on the horizon as Dawn's footsteps pattered softly against the cobblestone streets of Jubilife, the City of Joy.
She was arriving from Oreburgh City, the Coal Badge now proudly in her possession. The Gates of Oreburgh, which had poised a formidable challenge to her first attempt, now seemed almost trivial; what once took her an enter week and a little of her sanity was now conquered in just three days.
Clearly, Jubilife wasn't very much different from when the girl last visited. As Dawn walked along the hectic street, she weaved through a sea of people bustling about their day.
While navigating through the lively streets she kept Eterna City in her mind, positioned just northeast of her current location. With her sights set on her next destination she had no intention of lingering in Jubilife for very long.
That was until she felt an aching in her stomach. Dawn realized she hadn't eaten anything since she left Oreburgh, and the thought of food suddenly became impossible to ignore.
Dawn rubbed her belly, feeling the pang of hunger. Hmm, maybe before I leave, I could get something to eat for me and the team, she thought to herself.
As she continued her stride, the enticing aroma of delicious pasta wafted from a nearby restaurant. Dawn paused, her curiosity piqued. She turned and walked back, eying the quaint restaurant with a sign that read "Evolution Eats" in bold, playful letters. The warm glow of the interior and the lively chatter drifting out of the open door beckoned her inside.
Inside, the clinking of utensils and the hum of conversations filling the air. The restaurant was decorated with bright, inviting colors, and each table had a centerpiece with a small plant in a Poké Ball shaped vase. The walls were adorned with artwork depicting various evolution stones and their corresponding Pokémon forms.
A friendly-looking worker approached her, wearing a white apron and a warm smile. "Welcome to Evolution Eats! My name's Spencer. How many in your party today?" he asked.
"Just me," Dawn replied, smiling back. "Could I get a table for one, please?"
Spencer led her through the maze of tables where families, friends, and trainers chatted animatedly. The warm lighting casted a cozy glow over the space and the faint scent of various dishes wafted through the air, making Dawn's stomach growl louder. She was seated in a cozy booth near the window, offering a view of the busy streets of Jubilife outside.
He handed her a menu and said, "Here you go. Can I get you started with a drink?"
Dawn glanced over at the menu, her eyes lighting up at the sight of various Pokémon-themed dishes. She decided on a specialty called "Berry Blossom Pasta," imagining a delightful combination of fresh berries and savory pasta. "I'll have a raspberry lemonade to start, please," she said, handing back the menu to Spencer.
Spencer noted down her order in his notebook, nodding enthusiastically. "Excellent choice! Our Berry Blossom Pasta is one of our best sellers. And for today, we're running a promotion where you can get a free side with your meal. Would you like to add one?"
Dawn considered for a moment then decided to indulge. "Sure, I'll have a side of garlic bread, with um, parmesan cheese if you have it, please."
Spencer noted it down and smiled. "Great! I'll get that started for you right away. Your drink will be out shortly."
Spencer was about to take the menu from Dawn when she glanced back at it, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Actually, I'd like to add two servings of the Silph Co. Secret Sauce, please."
With a nod Spencer scribbled the addition into his notebook. "Excellent choice. That sauce is a favorite among our regulars. It adds a unique flavor that really enhances the pasta."
Dawn's gaze wandered over the menu, feeling more adventurous. "And could I also get some Lumiose Truffle shavings and a sprinkle of Rare Candy Crumbles on top?"
The server's pen danced across the page as he noted her requests. "Certainly! Anything else for you today?"
Her eyes lingered on the menu, contemplating her next indulgence. "Yes, I'd also like a topping of Moomoo Cheese, please. I've always wanted to try that."
Spencer completed the entry and observed Dawn still deep in thought. "Oh, and could you add some Silver Leaf flakes and a drizzle of Combee Honey Glaze as well?"
The slight widening of Spencer's eyes was the only sign of surprise at the extravagant additions. "Absolutely, those will give your dish a rich and sweet finish. Anything more?"
Feeling particularly indulgent, Dawn added, "I'll also have a side of Sunflora Seed Pesto."
Spencer continued writing, "Got it. Anything else you'd like to add?"
Dawn took a final, thorough look at the menu. "Yes, I'd also like a garnish of Coconut Shreds, please. It sounds yummy."
With a flourish, Spencer finished noting all the details. "Perfect! I'll make sure everything is prepared to your specifications. Your drink will be out shortly, and I'll get started on your meal right away."
After a delightful meal, Dawn sat back in her booth, feeling satisfied. The Berry Blossom Pasta had been everything she hoped for, and the extra toppings had added an extra layer of quality. The food tasted even better since it was her first meal in three days, making each bite particularly gratifying. She even had a chance to enjoy a caramel swirl sundae as a sweet finish to her meal.
Taking a last bite of the sundae, she savored the creamy blend of caramel and vanilla. Leaning back, she sighed contentedly and murmured, "That was the best ice cream I've ever had."
At that moment, Spencer walked up to her with a warm smile. "Is there anything else I can get for you?" he asked, clearing some of the empty dishes from the table.
Dawn shook her head, still basking in the afterglow of the delicious meal. "No, I think I'm all set, thank you. Oh, and compliments to the chef. Everything was wonderful."
Spencer nodded appreciatively and handed her the check. "Whenever you're ready, here's your bill."
Dawn unfolded the check and scanned the total, her eyes widening in disbelief. The amount was 35,000 Poké Dollars.
"Wait, what?!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in shock. The entire restaurant fell silent as everyone turned to look at her, startled by her outburst. She could feel the curious stares of the other diners and the murmured conversations that followed her exclamation.
Spencer, who had been clearing nearby tables, noticed her reaction and approached. "Is everything alright?"
Dawn's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and concern. "There must be some kind of mistake. I only ordered the pasta and the sundae. That should've come to around 7,000 Poké Dollars."
Spencer offered a reassuring smile and took a seat across from her. "Let's review the charges together to make sure everything is correct."
He began to go through the bill, pointing out the various items. "The Berry Blossom Pasta itself is reasonably priced, but the premium toppings like the Silph Co. Secret Sauce and Lumiose Truffle shavings are quite costly. Each item is priced based on its rarity and quality. The caramel swirl sundae, with the added rare Oran Berry drizzle, also adds to the total."
Dawn glanced at the check again, her heart sinking. The amount was far higher than she could've anticipated. "I didn't expect it to be this much. I should have been more careful with my choices."
She pulled out her wallet, her fingers trembling slightly. "N-no need to worry, I've got money, I've got a lot of money." As she opened the wallet, she thought back to the numerous trainer battles she had won in the past week, each victory adding to her earnings.
The girl began to sort through the money she had, carefully laying out the bills on the table. She meticulously arranged them, hoping the total would be enough. However, as she finished, Spencer reached over and began to count the money.
After a moment, he looked up at her with a concerned expression. "You're short. 23,000 short."
Dawn winced, a wave of realization hitting her. She had forgotten how much money she had spent on inns and other expenses during her travels.
She clasped her hands together, her voice trembling with anxiety. "I'm sorry, but that's all the money I've got in the world right now. I promise it was an accident. Please don't call the police."
After a moment, Spencer looked up at her with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, we're not going to do that."
Dawn's eyes widened with relief and hope. "Wait, really? So, I'm going to be let off the hook?"
Spencer's smile widened. "Actually, I have something else in mind. There is a way you can pay us back."
Two days later, Evolution Eats buzzed with its usual activity. Amid the vibrant atmosphere, a young woman walked through the bustling restaurant.
She was dressed in a crisp white blouse tucked into dark slacks, and a black apron was tied securely around her waist. Her name tag, pinned neatly to her blouse, read "Dawn" in neat letters. Her hair was pulled back into a tidy ponytail, and she wore sensible black shoes that clicked softly against the polished floor.
As Dawn approached a table near the window where a family was seated—the mom, dad, and their young son—she balanced a tray of plates, her nervousness evident in her slightly shaky hands.
She set down the plates, but her movements were slightly clumsy, causing one of the dishes to wobble before settling with a soft clink. "Here we go," she said, attempting to sound upbeat. "Pasta for you, sir; and here's the…" She glanced at the ticket and awkwardly placed the dish in front of the mom.
The mom, a woman in her late thirties with a meticulous demeanor, inspected her plate with visible discontent. "Excuse me," she said sharply, "This isn't what I ordered. I specifically asked for the tomato basil sauce, but this looks completely different."
The dad, sitting with his shoulders slightly hunched and his gaze lowered, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and spoke in a tentative tone, "Uh, it might've just been a mistake or something." His hands fidgeted with the napkin in his lap, and he avoided making eye contact.
The mom turned to him with a sharp look and said, "I didn't ask for your input, honey."
The dad quickly recoiled, his face flushing as he stammered, "Y-yes dear," and fell silent, his posture slumping further as he stared down at his plate.
Dawn's face flushed with embarrassment as she tried to address the issue. "I'm so, so, sorry about that. Let me check and—" She fumbled with the tray, almost dropping it, and then attempted to correct the mistake by picking up the wrong dish with a flustered expression.
The mom continued to scrutinize her meal, her frustration mounting. "And there's a hair in this pasta," she said, lifting the strand with a look of distaste. "This is completely unacceptable."
Dawn's eyes widened in panic as she glanced around, unsure how to handle the escalating situation. "I… I'm really sorry. I'll— I'll get this sorted out right away."
The girl hurried back to the kitchen, balancing the tray with the dissatisfied customer's meal.
The kitchen was abuzz with activity: chefs worked over stoves, counters were cluttered with ingredients, and the rich aroma of cooking filled the air. A Chansey helped with food prep, its soft pink hands deftly handling trays.
Approaching the chef who was stirring a pot of sauce, Dawn nervously glanced at her notebook. "Um, guys, I accidentally wrote 'tomato basil sauce' on the order, but the customer actually wanted 'herb-infused tomato sauce.'"
The chef looked up; his frustration palpable. "Seriously? This is the third mistake you've made today."
From across the kitchen, a sous-chef, chopping vegetables with a sharp rhythm, added, "This is getting out of hand. How many times do we have to fix your screw-ups?"
Dawn winced at the criticism, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm really sorry. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
Taking a deep breath, the chef nodded. "Alright, we'll get it sorted. Just, please double-check next time."
As the staff worked on the replacement dish, Dawn stood by, hoping the corrected meal would resolve the situation with the customer.
Dawn walked back through the bustling restaurant, her heart racing as she made her way past the tables. The chatter of diners and the clinking of utensils filled the air. She glanced around nervously, hoping to address the issue with the unhappy customer.
As she approached the table where the woman, her husband, and their son were seated, she noticed the woman talking animatedly to the manager.
The manager, a calm and professional presence, listened attentively as the woman gestured emphatically. Dawn caught snippets of the conversation—"This is completely unacceptable," the woman was saying, "I've never experienced such poor service."
When the woman's gaze shifted and she spotted Dawn approaching, her expression hardened. "That's her," the woman said, pointing directly at Dawn. "She's the one who messed up my order. And look at her—clearly not fit for this job. How could anyone trust her to get anything right?"
Dawn's initial impulse was to react, but she forced a tight-lipped smile, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to keep her anger in check. Her face was a careful mask of politeness, though her clenched jaw and furrowed brows betrayed her irritation.
"I'm really sorry about the mistake," she said through gritted teeth. "We're remaking your meal with the correct sauce, and it should be out shortly."
The woman snorted dismissively. "I hope so. And you better hope I don't have to speak to your manager again because of more incompetence."
The husband, looking visibly uncomfortable and stuttering, added, "Uh, she's clearly new, can't you cut her some slack?"
The woman shot him a sharp look. "You're not helping," she snapped.
"S-sorry, ma'am," he quickly replied, his voice barely audible as he shrank back in his seat.
At that moment, the manager stepped in, his demeanor calm but firm. "I apologize for the inconvenience," he said to the woman. "To make up for this, we'll take care of your meal today."
The woman's expression softened slightly, though she remained haughty. "Well, I suppose that's a start."
The manager turned and walked away; his expression clearly frustrated. Dawn, feeling a surge of guilt build up within her, hurried to catch up with him.
"I'm really sorry about the mistake," Dawn said, her voice earnest as she approached the manager. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
He turned to face her, his tone serious. "This is your third mistake today, Dawn. Third."
Dawn's expression tightened with a mix of frustration and resolve. "I know, and it'll be my last mistake. I promise."
"It better be. I'll have one of the other waiters handle that table. For now, just, take care of table 7 outside. They've been waiting for service, and we need to make sure they're satisfied."
"Got it. I'll take care of them right away," Dawn nodded quickly, trying to mask her anxiety with a determined smile.
As Dawn prepared to head outside, the manager called after her. "Make sure you get it right this time. Any more mess-ups, and it'll be added to that 23,000 you owe us."
Dawn's shoulders stiffened, she pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath to calm herself, and nodded without meeting his gaze, and turned on her heel to head toward the outside tables.
Entering the patio, the area was filled with neatly arranged tables, each adorned with crisp white linens and elegant centerpieces. Large umbrellas provided shade and potted plants added a touch of greenery.
As Dawn walked past a few different seated customers, her eyes lit up as she noticed the person sitting at table 7. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Lucas. As soon as he spotted her, he threw his head back and erupted in laughter.
"Well, look who it is! Dawn, the mighty Pokémon trainer, now a waitress! What happened, did Chimchar fire you?" Lucas exclaimed between chuckles. "So, do you battle with a frying pan now? Or maybe your Pokémon are your sous-chefs?"
She walked over to him, feeling the heat rise in her face. "Oh, shut your big mouth, Lucas. This is just temporary, okay? I'm working off a debt I owe. I'm still first and foremost a trainer."
Lucas's smirk widened as he leaned forward. "Oh, sure, Dawn. A trainer and a waitress—quite the combo. If you're really that good at multitasking, maybe you can handle both my table and the Pokémon League at the same time.
Dawn rolled her eyes and looked away, muttering, "Yeah, yeah, keep laughing."
Just then, she felt a flash and turned to see Lucas holding a disposable camera, the lens still pointing in her direction. "Hey!" Dawn exclaimed, surprised.
Lucas grinned, barely containing his amusement. "Sorry, sorry! I just had to capture this. I'll make sure to include it in my 'Trainer Turned Waitress' photo album. It's not every day you see a Pokémon Trainer serving up fries!"
"Listen here, you jerk!" Dawn began, but her words faltered as she heard a familiar voice behind her.
Turning around, Dawn's eyes widened in surprise as she saw Professor Rowan approaching.
The professor's expression was a mix of shock and amusement. "Dawn, what a... surprise. That's quite an interesting outfit."
Dawn's face brightened as she spotted the man who had essentially launched her journey. "Professor, it's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, rushing over to him. "Oh, right, the outfit? Well, I dined here a few days ago and I accidentally ordered more than I could afford. Now, I'm just working off what I owe."
"I understand. What a pickle you're in, how much do you owe, exactly?" he asked.
"It's, um... 23,000," Dawn admitted, her voice trailing off as both Professor Rowan and Lucas's eyes widened in surprise.
"23,000..." Professor Rowan repeated, clearly taken aback. His gaze shifted to Dawn with a mix of concern and disbelief.
Dawn simply nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly as she looked down, feeling the weight of the situation.
"I'm really sorry to hear that, Dawn," Professor Rowan said, his tone softening as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Lucas, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and clearly growing impatient, leaned forward with a hint of annoyance. "Can we just order our food now? I'm starving over here."
Dawn let out a resigned sigh. "Whatever, fine. Can I get you both started with a drink?"
Professor Rowan settled into his seat beside Lucas, glancing over the menu thoughtfully. "I'll have a lemonade, please," he said.
"And I'll go with a raspberry lemonade," Lucas chimed in, already sounding more at ease with the prospect of his drink.
Dawn nodded and made a note, "Okay, I'll be right back."
The girl took a deep breath and turned away from Professor Rowan and Lucas, heading towards the drink preparation area.
The drink station was situated at the back of the restaurant. The space was neatly organized with a well-stocked counter lined with colorful syrups, a gleaming soda fountain machine, and a large ice maker that hummed softly.
Grabbing two clean glasses from a nearby stack, the words of the customers began to echo in her thoughts. Look at her—clearly not fit for this job. How could anyone trust her to get anything right?
The harsh tone reverberated in her mind, amplifying her frustration. As she filled one glass with raspberry lemonade, she recalled another comment: Seriously? This is the third mistake you've made today. The memory of the reprimand only heightened her sense of agitation.
The lemonade dispenser seemed to mock her with its steady stream of liquid, and she thought of the threat, Any more mess-ups, and it'll be added to that 23,000 you owe us.
As she prepared the lemonade for Professor Rowan, Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts: Well, look who it is! Dawn, the mighty Pokémon trainer, now a waitress! The sneering remark from earlier resurfaced, and her frustration boiled over.
Flashing a cold, vindictive smile, Dawn grabbed another glass, filled it with lemonade, and glanced around the empty station to make sure she was alone.
With a quick, rebellious act, she spat into the glass, letting her frustration mix with the drink. She stirred it with a spoon, her movements reflecting her suppressed anger.
Dawn took a deep breath, forcing her frustration to the back of her mind as she placed both drinks on a tray.
She carefully added straws, and with a final glance to ensure everything was in place, she carried the tray back towards Professor Rowan and Lucas.
As she approached their table, she adopted a genuine, if somewhat strained, smile. Her heart pounded, but she maintained a friendly demeanor.
"Here are your drinks," she said, setting the tray down on the table. She handed Lucas the glass with the tainted lemonade, trying to ignore the tension in her shoulders. "Enjoy," she added cheerfully.
"Thank you, Dawn," Professor Rowan said warmly. "Listen, I know you're working, but I haven't had a chance to catch up with you in a while. Why don't you take a seat for a minute?"
Dawn hesitated, then turned her gaze to Lucas. A sly smirk crossed her face as she said, "Sure," and pulled up a chair to sit beside them. "Go on, take a sip of your drinks. I prepared them with extra care today."
Lucas picked up his cup, lifting it with a slight grin. Dawn's smirk widened as she watched, anticipation growing. Just as he was about to take a sip, he paused and gently set the cup back on the table.
"Dawn," he said, causing a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. "I asked for the raspberry lemonade. The professor wanted the regular lemonade, remember?"
Her smile faltered as she realized her mistake. "Wait, what?" she said, a wave of panic washing over her. "I-I must have mixed them up."
"No worries," Professor Rowan said, as he and Lucas swapped drinks. Dawn's guilt surged as she watched them exchange cups, her stomach twisting with anxiety.
Just as Professor Rowan began to lift the straw to his lips, Dawn blurted out, "Wait!" Her voice cut through the ambient chatter of the restaurant, drawing the attention of nearby patrons.
"W-what's the matter, Dawn?" Professor Rowan asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Uh, it's just, I think, and I'm sorry if I did this but... I think I see a hair in there!" Dawn stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment as she pointed towards the lemonade.
Professor Rowan leaned in to inspect the drink closely, followed by Lucas. "Hmm," Professor Rowan said, squinting at the glass. "I don't see anything. Do you, Lucas?"
Lucas took a closer look, peering into the lemonade with a critical eye. "Nope, looks normal to me," he confirmed, shaking his head.
Dawn's face turned crimson as she realized her blunder, her earlier frustration now replaced with mortification.
Professor Rowan, seemingly unfazed, raised the glass and took a sip through the straw. As he swallowed, a look of mild satisfaction crossed his face.
Feeling utterly defeated, Dawn let out a groan of frustration. Her shoulders slumped, and she dropped her head onto the table with an almost pained exhale, as if trying to scream silently into the surface. The sound of her groan drew curious glances from nearby tables.
"D-Dawn, are you alright?" Professor Rowan asked, his voice tinged with concern. "Please, talk to me. What's got you feeling so down?"
Dawn slowly lifted her head. Streams of tears trickled down her face, smudging her mascara and leaving streaks of black beneath her eyes. Both Lucas and Professor Rowan watched in surprise as her distress became evident.
Her voice trembled as she cried into her sleeve, "Professor, I'm, I'm so, so sorry..." Tears continued to fall, her shoulders shaking with each sob.
Exchanging wide-eyed glances, Professor Rowan and Lucas looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back to her.
"Okay, um, why are you sorry?" Professor Rowan asked gently, his brow furrowed in concern.
Dawn sniffled, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at Professor Rowan through tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry..." she began, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."
Professor Rowan's expression softened, and he reached out a hand reassuringly. "Dawn, it's okay. You don't have to apologize for being upset. Everyone has tough days."
Lucas, still seated, looked on with a mix of surprise and awkwardness, unsure of how to react.
Dawn looked down at the table, her eyes darting nervously as they traced the patterns on the tablecloth. Her gaze shifted from one spot to another, and her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her apron, as she fought to compose herself.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I'll have someone else help you with your meals." She turned away; her shoulders slumped.
As Dawn walked away, Professor Rowan stood up from his seat, a concerned expression on his face. "That 23,000 you owe, maybe I can talk to your manager. I can pay it off for you."
Hearing this, Dawn ceased her sniffling, her head snapping up in surprise. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open slightly as she stared at Professor Rowan in shock. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, shaking her head.
"N-no, I couldn't ask you to do that, Professor," she said, her voice strained but determined. "It was my mistake, and I should be the one to face the consequences."
"Please, I insist," Professor Rowan reassured her, his tone firm yet gentle, he reached into his breast pocket. "I just need my checkbook."
Professor Rowan searched his pockets for a moment, then his face fell as he realized the checking book wasn't there. "Oh, I must've left it in my car," he mumbled. "Just, wait right here, Dawn. I'll be right back."
Dawn looked at the professor in stunned silence as he hurried out of the restaurant. Her mind raced with a tumult of emotions—relief, embarrassment, and confusion—all competing for her attention.
Dawn's eyes, still glistening from her tears, met Lucas's, who wore a mix of curiosity and discomfort. Neither of them knew what to say next.
Professor Rowan walked over to a sleek, silver sedan parked neatly in the lot, its polished exterior reflecting the sunlight. He opened the driver's door and slid into the plush leather seat.
He reached over to the glove compartment, which was neatly organized but packed with a variety of papers and documents. After sifting through the stack of paperwork, he found his checking book nestled among the files. With a relieved sigh, he pulled it out and quickly closed the compartment.
As Professor Rowan sat in the driver's seat, checkbook in hand, a shadow fell across the car. Before he could react, a figure slipped into the passenger side and pressed a cloth soaked in chloroform over his mouth.
The figure held the cloth in place for a few more moments to ensure the professor was fully incapacitated before removing it.
As Dawn and Lucas waited at their table, the atmosphere was heavy with lingering tension. Lucas, casting a casual glance around, suddenly spotted something out of the ordinary. He squinted towards the restaurant's parking lot and saw Professor Rowan's car—a sleek, understated silver sedan—revving up and speeding away.
Without thinking, Lucas jumped up from his seat. "Hey, Professor, where are you going!?" he called out, his voice laced with confusion.
The car, already picking up speed, quickly skidded around the corner and disappeared from view, leaving only the faint sound of tires screeching against asphalt. Dawn's heart skipped a beat as she watched the car vanish.
"Jesus..." Dawn muttered, turning to Lucas. "I guess something urgent must've come up."
"Man," Lucas grumbled, crossing his arms. "It's not like Professor Rowan to drive off like that." He glanced at his Pokétch on his wrist, frowning. "I need to give him a call."
Lucas dialed Professor Rowan's number, but it went straight to voicemail. He frowned, trying the call again with no better luck. "Something's definitely up," he said, glancing at Dawn with concern.
"Yeah, didn't you say something about Professor Rowan having that lecture in Jubilife a few weeks back? Maybe the school called him and needed to speak with him," Dawn suggested.
Lucas glanced at Dawn, his expression troubled. "I can't shake the feeling that something's off about this. It just doesn't sit right with me."
Dawn was about to respond when she felt a presence behind her. She turned to see the manager standing there, his hands planted firmly on his hips. His expression was tinged with irritation.
"Didn't you already have your break?" he asked sharply.
"I—I'm sorry," Dawn stammered, standing up quickly.
"This can't keep happening," the manager continued, clearly agitated. "We need to have a sidebar. Follow me."
Dawn sighed, casting a quick glance at Lucas. "Uh, good luck, okay?" she said before following the manager away.
Lucas turned around sharply, his gaze following the path where Professor Rowan's car had sped away. He watched the empty street for a moment, the faint trail of dust marking the vehicle's passage.
The shadowy figure maneuvered through the dark, abandoned warehouse, carrying Professor Rowan with precise care.
The professor's hands and legs were bound tightly with rough rope, and a burlap sack concealed his head, rendering him utterly defenseless.
The figure carefully set Professor Rowan down onto the cold, grimy floor of the abandoned warehouse. As the professor's limp form settled against the dusty ground, the figure reached up and removed the burlap sack from Rowan's head.
Rowan's face, now exposed, remained still and unresponsive, his eyes closed tightly in unconsciousness. His glasses were missing and his usually neat hair was tousled and disheveled.
"Wakey, wakey!" the man called out in a taunting tone, kneeling beside Professor Rowan. He slapped the professor gently across the face but Rowan remained unresponsive, his head lolling slightly with the motion.
The figure stood up, irritation flickering across his face as he shook his head and smirked. He began pacing the dusty warehouse floor, his footsteps echoing softly. Light streamed through grimy windows, casting long shadows on his distinctive outfit.
He wore a sleek, dark uniform with a high-collared, purple jacket and a black, circular emblem on his chest, accented with silver details. His blue hair was cut into a precise bowl shape, adding to his menacing appearance.
Approaching the light, he chuckled darkly. "Playing dead on me, are we?" His voice was cold and mocking, revealing his amusement at the professor's unconscious state.
The blue-haired man walked over to Professor Rowan, with a sneer on his face he delivered a sharp kick to the professor's side.
Professor Rowan remained unresponsive, still lying limp and unconscious on the floor. The man frowned, clearly frustrated by the lack of reaction.
The man's attention was suddenly drawn to the creaking of footsteps echoing down the dimly lit staircase. The sound, rhythmic and suspenseful, grew louder as a woman emerged from the shadows.
She stepped into the light, revealing her strikingly similar uniform to the man's, complete with a matching blue bowl cut. Her eyes scanned Professor Rowan lying on the floor before her gaze settled on the man.
Without a word, she delivered a swift punch to the back of his head.
"Yow!" he exclaimed, holding his head in pain. "What the heck was that for? If you're gonna hit anyone, why not take it out on him?"
The woman glared at the man, her frustration evident in her tense posture and the sharp tapping of her foot. "Why isn't he waking up?" she demanded, her voice laced with irritation. Her eyes, narrowed and cold, conveyed her agitation as she waited for an answer.
"What's the big deal? He was knocked out with chloroform; it's not surprising he's taking a while to wake up. It might just take a bit longer for the effects to wear off," the man defended himself, rubbing the back of his head where the woman had hit him.
The woman knelt down beside Professor Rowan, her expression growing more worried. She placed her fingers on his neck, searching for a pulse, but after a few tense moments, her brow furrowed. "I can't feel anything," she said, her voice tight with worry.
"What? Let me try," he said, placing his hand on Rowan's arm. After a few moments, he continued, "It's faint, but I can definitely feel a pulse. You're just not searching right."
The woman waved a finger in front of him, her frustration evident. "If we get caught, we're already facing charges for kidnapping, unlawful restraint, and possibly assault. I don't know about you, but I don't want to add murder to that list."
"Oh, stop worrying," the man said, standing up with a dismissive wave. "Rowan's fine. Nobody's been murdered here, alright?"
"You know what? I'm not even worried about getting arrested," the woman said, standing up and marching closer to the man, her tone icy. "If we accidentally killed Rowan, just imagine what Commander Mars will do to us. You better pray he's alive, or we're both dead."
"He's fine, alright," the man argued, kneeling down to search Rowan's pockets. He searched through Professor Rowan's pockets and the inner compartments of his jacket.
"Anything on him? What about his Poké Balls?" the woman demanded, her voice edged with stress.
"No..." the man sighed, his voice heavy with resignation.
"Oh, oh, that's just fantastic," the woman shrieked. In a fit of frustration, she kicked a nearby empty crate across the warehouse floor. It clattered loudly against a wall. "What the heck are we going to do now, huh?"
"I—I don't know..." the man stammered, his voice trailing off as he anxiously searched through Rowan's pockets again, hoping for something, anything.
The woman's frustration boiled over. Her face flushed with anger, and her eyes narrowed as she paced back and forth. "Oh, you don't know? You wanna know why you don't know?" she snapped, "You don't think! That's why! You don't think! You never figured out how to think, did you?!" Her voice rose, each word sharp with irritation.
"Just shut up for a sec, alright?" the man snapped, holding his hand up to silence her. He reached into Professor Rowan's pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "Look."
"Okay, and that helps us how!?" the woman retorted, her frustration evident.
The man glanced at the phone's screen. "Looks like Rowan has a missed call—9 miscalls, from Lucas."
"So?" the woman replied, clearly unimpressed.
"So..." the man continued, "there was a kid with Rowan when I was spying on him earlier. His full name was Lucas Diamond. Every day I watched Rowan, this kid was always around. He was like his shadow."
"Okay, this Lucas kid? What about him?" the woman shrugged, still indifferent.
"He seems to be close to Rowan. We can probably use him as leverage. He was out at a restaurant with the professor just before I grabbed him."
"Just what are you suggesting?" the woman asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.
"I'm saying, we give this Lucas guy a call," he said, holding up Professor Rowan's cell phone. His thumb hovered over the screen as he prepared to dial the number.
Lucas lay on the hotel bed, staring at the blank wall opposite him, his mind racing with worry and frustration.
He had been like this for hours, unable to shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him ever since Professor Rowan had suddenly disappeared. The unsettling image of Rowan's car speeding off had left him with an uneasy knot in his stomach.
He considered filing a police report, but uncertainty clouded his mind. He wasn't sure if the situation was severe enough to involve the authorities yet, or if there was another explanation for Professor Rowan's sudden disappearance.
With a sigh of frustration, Lucas ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. He knew he had to make a decision soon, but the uncertainty of the situation left him feeling paralyzed.
Suddenly, his Pokétch chimed, breaking through his troubled thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw that the call was from Professor Rowan. Instantly, his anxiety spiked. He quickly sat up, heart racing, and answered the call.
"Professor, you had me so worried!" Lucas's voice was a mix of relief and concern. "Where are you!?"
"Lucas Diamond," an unfamiliar voice answered, sending a shiver down Lucas's spine. His hands trembled as he clutched the Pokétch.
"Wh-who is this?" Lucas stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Who we are is none of your concern," a cold female voice suddenly appeared on the line.
Lucas's heart raced as he heard the beep of a text message arriving. Trembling, he glanced at his Pokétch. His eyes widened in horror as he saw an image of Professor Rowan lying unconscious on the floor, bound and helpless.
The boy's face drained of color, and his breath came in short, panicked bursts. He felt a wave of fear and dread wash over him, realizing the gravity of the situation. His hands shook uncontrollably as he struggled to process the sight of the professor's vulnerable state.
"W-what is this?" Lucas stammered, his voice trembling. "Some kind of, ransom? D-do you want money?"
The female cracked a smirk as she glanced at the male, who was holding the phone for her. She took the phone from him and placed it to her ear. "No, we don't want money. Nor do we need it. You're Professor Rowan's pupil, I believe? If you want to see him again, bring all of his Pokémon to us. All of them. Even the weak ones."
"I—I don't know where he is. How would I know where he is?" the voice over the phone stammered. "Just, please, don't do anything to him."
"Well, you'd better get creative. Because If you don't bring his Pokémon to us by 11 o'clock tomorrow, things will go south for your mentor. Every minute you're late is another bone we break."
"If you scumbags lay a finger on him—" the voice over the phone screeched, his voice now trembling with fury.
The woman rolled her eyes and cut him off. "The address is 439 Willow Street, Unit 12B. I know it's a lot to remember, so I've texted it to you. And don't even think about contacting the authorities, because if you do, let's just say Rowan won't be too pleased. Do you understand?"
"Okay..." the boy's voice cracked, choked with emotion. It sounded like he was on the verge of tears, his voice barely above a whisper.
The woman couldn't help but snicker, glancing at the man beside her. "Holy crap, did you hear that? This loser's actually crying."
The man joined in the laughter, and the woman brought the phone back to her ear.
"Just bring us what we want, and nothing happens to the old man. Don't be late," she said, her tone icy and commanding before ending the call.
"You really think he knows where Professor Rowan keeps his Pokémon?" the man asked, his tone tinged with skepticism.
"You tell me, it was your idea," the woman retorted. Her grip on the phone tightened, and with a swift, decisive motion, she snapped it in two, the pieces falling to the floor with a sharp crack. She glared at the man, her patience wearing thin. "We need to make sure he doesn't get any bright ideas. If he's as desperate as he sounds, he'll do whatever it takes to get Rowan back. We need to be ready for anything."
Just then, a low groan escaped from Professor Rowan. Both the man and the woman turned their attention to him, their expressions shifting to surprise as they saw him starting to come to. Rowan's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
"Who are you people...?" Professor Rowan muttered, his voice weak as he tried to make sense of his situation. He fumbled with his bound hands and legs, his fingers brushing against the tight ropes. "Where am I?"
"Oh, so he is alive?" the woman snickered, glancing over at the man with a smirk.
"I think an apology is in order?" the man said, his face stretching into a smug grin.
The woman ignored him and approached the Professor, who squinted his eyes as he noticed the insignia on her uniform. "Your…" he muttered, his voice trailing off in surprise as the recognition dawned on him.
The next day, Lucas burst through the door of Evolution Eats, his face pale and frantic. "Dawn! Dawn!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the restaurant.
He scanned the room desperately, his eyes wide with urgency. The clatter of dishes and murmur of conversation came to a halt as patrons turned to look at the commotion.
Lucas stormed through the bustling restaurant, his frantic pace drawing curious and concerned glances from the diners. Ignoring the startled murmurs, he pushed past tables and chairs with a determined stride.
He reached the kitchen, where the clatter of pots and pans and the sizzle of cooking food created a chaotic backdrop. The kitchen manager looked up from his station, his face twisting in alarm. "You can't be here!" he called out, stepping in Lucas's path.
Without breaking his stride, Lucas shoved Spencer aside, his face a mask of anxiety and determination. He barreled into the kitchen, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
The boy stormed past the kitchen, the cooks, caught off guard, gaped at him with wide eyes, their hands frozen mid-task. The clamor of the kitchen fell to a stunned silence as Lucas barreled through.
He rushed through the kitchen, his eyes fixed on the door leading to the manager's office Lucas pushed open the door to the manager's office with a forceful shove. The manager, seated at his desk and absorbed in his laptop, looked up in startled surprise. His fingers were still hovering over the keyboard as he registered Lucas's frantic presence.
The manager's eyes widened in shock, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern. "What's going on?" he asked, confusion and alarm evident in his voice.
Lucas's voice cut through the silence of the manager's office, raw with urgency and desperation. "Dawn Platinum," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "where—where the heck is she!? I need to speak to her right now!"
"Sir, if she messed up your order, I am terribly sorry," the manager said, scrambling to find a solution. "Can I offer you a 50% discount off your meal or maybe a free dessert to make up for it?"
Lucas, clearly overwhelmed and desperate, looked at him with confusion and frustration. "What? No! No, that's not, that's not what I'm here for! I just, I need to talk to her. Just tell me where she is!"
The manager's face grew anxious. "S-she's on her break right now," he said, starting to feel threatened by Lucas's intensity. "I have no idea where she went. I really don't."
"Argh, you're no help!" Lucas grunted, his frustration boiling over. He pivoted on his heel and stormed past the kitchen, pushing through the swinging door with renewed urgency.
Dawn sat on the sidewalk, her shoulders slumped and her gaze fixed on the ground. The busy street around her seemed to move on without a second glance, as people hurried past their footsteps echoing like a distant drumbeat.
As she sat silently on the curb, her thoughts consumed by her troubles, a voice pierced through her melancholy haze. The sound of her name, initially faint and distant, grew louder with each passing second.
She looked up, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the early morning sun and saw Lucas rushing toward her, his face flushed from running.
Dawn's eyes widened in surprise as he closed the distance, his footsteps pounding on the pavement. "Dawn!" Lucas called out again, his voice filled with desperation. He came to a halt in front of her, panting heavily, his worry evident.
"Lucas... What are you doing here?" Dawn asked, her voice shaky, her emotions a tangled mess of confusion and sadness.
"I need you, Dawn," Lucas panted. "I need your help, now."
"W-why, what happened!?" Dawn asked, standing up, her heart pounding with sudden urgency.
"I-it was these guys, they called yesterday, from Professor Rowan's line," Lucas explained, his voice trembling. "They told me they wanted to meet me at this 439 Willow Street address. They have the professor, Dawn. They have him, and if I don't bring them all his Pokémon, they're going to hurt him."
Dawn's eyes widened, her mind racing as she tried to process what Lucas was saying. "They... they have Professor Rowan?"
"Look, I'd call the cops, but they said if I did that, they'd... just, look, you're the only person I can turn to," Lucas said, his voice thick with stress and desperation. "I don't have access to the professor's Pokémon, and I can't even begin to imagine where they are. But that won't matter, because you and me, battling side by side, together we can save him."
The girl's face contorted from shock to anger, her brows furrowing and her lips pressing into a thin line. "Ever since my journey began, you've been a complete jerk to me, you know that? And now you expect me to help you!?"
Lucas looked taken aback, his confusion evident. "However you feel about me, you can't let that influence your decision here, Dawn. Professor Rowan needs our help. I can't do this by myself."
Dawn looked him in the eyes, her face twisting with anger. "Help yourself," she muttered bitterly.
Lucas was stunned, his expression shifting from desperation to confusion. "D-Dawn, look, do you want me to go down on my knees here!?" he pleaded, his voice cracking.
"I want you to apologize!" Dawn demanded, her eyes blazing. Her fists clenched at her sides, and her whole body trembled with the intensity of her emotions.
Lucas sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He met her gaze, his expression earnest and pained. "Look, I know I've been difficult to you, but... I'm sorry, okay? When Professor Rowan was offering you and Barry Pokémon, I just... I couldn't help but feel like you guys would replace me. I'm selfish and rude, and... I'm so, so sorry, Dawn." His voice wavered, and he looked down, his face flushed with genuine remorse.
Dawn stood for a moment, looking away, her face a mix of anger and conflict. She finally met Lucas's gaze, her eyes narrowing. "You don't mean any of that. You'd say anything right now for my cooperation."
"I do, I do!" Lucas raised his voice, desperation creeping in. "Just please, please, you've gotta help me here!"
"You're not sorry!" Dawn shouted over him, her voice filled with pain and frustration. "But you're gonna be." She turned around and walked away from him coldly, her steps firm and resolute, leaving Lucas standing there, stunned and helpless.
Inside the dimly lit warehouse, Professor Rowan was suspended upside down, his hands and legs tightly bound with thick ropes. Above him, a series of pulleys and gears connected to a foreboding machine that controlled his fate.
Below him, a large, murky tub of water shimmered ominously in the scarce light, where several Feebas swam restlessly. Their sharp teeth glinted menacingly as they circled, their normally unassuming forms now intimidating in the grim setting.
The two foreboding crooks stood near the lever, casting shadows over the dimly lit room. The man checked his watch, his expression indifferent. "It's 10:55. The boy's got five more minutes."
The woman smirked, her gaze icy as she looked at Professor Rowan. "Y'hear that, old man? You've got five minutes. You better hope that brat of yours cares about you."
Professor Rowan's eyes narrowed, his glare fierce. Despite his precarious position, his voice was firm and unwavering. "He will, and when he does, you two are in for a world of trouble."
"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that," the man snickered, glancing at the woman. "You think he's found the Pokémon?"
The woman shrugged, her smirk never faltering. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough."
"Team Galactic, I never expected your kind here in Jubilife," Professor Rowan said, his tone dripping with disdain. The woman let out a laugh and stared at him with cold amusement.
"Our kind?" she asked, walking over to the tank. She knocked on the glass, causing a Feebas to jump, splashing some water onto the professor. "What do you mean by, 'our kind'?"
"Oh, you know," Professor Rowan continued, his voice steady but laced with contempt. "I've met a lot of scum in my day, believe me, I have. But you two, in a few years, you won't even be worth remembering. What's your plan here anyway, huh? You think Lucas will actually bring my Pokémon? He doesn't know where I keep them!"
The woman began to laugh, a mocking sound that echoed through the warehouse. "Okay, so Lucas doesn't know," she said, her laughter subsiding into a cruel smile. "You know, for a scientist, you're really not that bright." She walked back away from him, shaking her head. "If Lucas doesn't have your Pokémon, then I guess we'll just have to hurt him. Hurt him until you talks."
Professor Rowan gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing with fury. "I promise you, if you two worthless dilettantes do anything to him, then I'll... I'll—"
The woman shushed Professor Rowan, her eyes narrowing as she heard the door creak open. They all turned their attention to the entrance, where Lucas stood, his face a mask of anger and determination.
Lucas stormed inside, his gaze flicking around the dimly lit warehouse until it landed on his mentor, restrained and suspended in the machine. "Professor!" he shouted, his voice cracking with panic.
"L-Lucas, get away from here! Now!" Professor Rowan's voice wavered with both urgency and fear.
A sinister smile spread across the woman's face as she glided over to the lever. Her fingers hovered over it with deliberate menace. "Lucas Diamond... we've been expecting you," she said smoothly. "So, did you bring the goods?"
Lucas glared at her, his eyes blazing with raw fury. He remained silent, his anger palpable.
The woman raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Guess not," she said, her voice dripping with disdain as she slowly began to pull down the lever. Rowan's head began to lower towards the tank of water, where the hungry Feebas swam with unsettling anticipation.
"Okay, okay, just stop it!" Lucas yelled, his voice edged with desperation. The woman paused, her hand still on the lever, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Give me the Pokémon right now," she demanded, her tone cold and commanding. "Any tricks, and... well, you get the idea by now."
Lucas's heart pounded in his chest as he reached into his bag, his hands trembling with the weight of the moment. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He fumbled with the contents of his bag, finally pulling out a single Poké Ball.
The man and woman exchanged puzzled glances; their confusion clear as they watched him intently. The woman's fingers still hovered over the lever, her smirk faltering slightly as she awaited Lucas's next move.
With a determined flick of his wrist, Lucas hurled the Poké Ball forward. "Turtwig, go!" he shouted, his voice steady despite the tension. The ball burst open with a flash of light, and the Grass-type Pokémon materialized in mid-air, its eyes fierce and ready for action.
"Turtwig!" the Pokémon screeched, landing with a powerful thud on the ground before leaping towards the two villains with an aggressive energy.
"Oh, he seriously wants to go down this route!?" the woman laughed, glancing at her companion. With a swift motion, she reached into her bag and tossed out a Poké Ball. "Fine, let's entertain him," she screeched, her voice filled with a mocking tone.
The ball burst open, releasing a Golbat with an intimidating swoosh. The Pokémon's large, leathery wings flapped ominously as it emerged, casting a shadow over the room. Its fanged mouth was wide open, and its eyes glowed menacingly, creating a palpable sense of dread.
"Use Razor Leaf!" Lucas shouted, his voice filled with desperation.
"Turtwig!" the Grass-type cried, its body glowing as it unleashed a barrage of sharp, green leaves. The leaves whistled through the air with a crackling sound, their sharp edges slicing through the air as they homed in on Golbat.
"Pathetic!" the woman scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "Golbat, use Air Cutter!"
Golbat's wings began to flap rapidly, creating a powerful gust that surged through the room. The air sliced with increasing speed, forming a turbulent vortex. Slicing currents of wind cut through the Razor Leaf attack, shredding the leaves into fragments with precise, rapid movements. The room echoed with the sound of the fierce winds, the gusts creating a chaotic storm of swirling air.
"W-what!?" Lucas uttered in shock, his eyes wide as he watched the destruction unfold.
Turtwig struggled to maintain its ground against the onslaught. As the razor-sharp air currents from Air Cutter struck, Turtwig was battered and sliced, each gust of wind slicing through its defenses inflicting super-effective damage.
The grass-type Pokémon was hurled to the ground with a heavy thud, creating a small crater on impact. Turtwig lay there, visibly battered and gasping for breath.
"Lucas!" Professor Rowan cried out, his voice filled with desperation.
The male Team Galactic crook snickered, glancing at his partner with a smirk. "Oh wow, and after all that, this guy's seriously weak. Isn't he?"
"I know, right?" she replied, her tone dripping with disdain. "I'm almost disappointed." With a malicious glint in her eye, she raised her arm toward where Turtwig lay, struggling to get up. "Finish it off, Golbat. Poison Fang!"
Golbat flew down with an unsettling swiftness, its wings beating with a dark, almost hypnotic rhythm. Its fangs, coated in a sickly, shimmering purple venom, glistened ominously in the dim light.
"N-no, don't do it!" Lucas cried, his voice breaking with panic as he ran toward his Pokémon.
Just as Golbat was about to close in on Turtwig, a powerful gust of wind erupted, and in the blink of an eye, Chimchar appeared directly in front of it.
The Fire-type Pokémon's eyes blazed with determination. Without hesitation, Chimchar's claws sharpened into a fierce, glistening edge. With a swift, precise swipe, it slashed Golbat across the face.
Golbat screeched in agony, its high-pitched wail echoing through the room.
The Pokémon was flung backward, crashing into the wall with a resounding impact. A cloud of dust and debris exploded upon impact, causing a small crack to form in the wall. Golbat slumped to the ground, visibly dazed and hurt from the powerful strike.
"W-what!?" both Team Galactic members shrieked, staring in shock at the open door.
Dawn stood in the doorway, bathed in harsh light, her expression cool and composed. She glanced over Lucas and Turtwig with a calm demeanor before her eyes settled on Professor Rowan. Her stance was steady, a silent resolve in her gaze as she took in the chaotic scene.
"Dawn!?" Lucas shouted, his voice filled with both surprise and relief.
"Dawn!?" Professor Rowan exclaimed, his tone a mix of astonishment and hope.
"D-Dawn!?" the Team Galactic grunts echoed in disbelief, their faces a picture of utter confusion.
The Team Galactic members gaped at her in disbelief, their shock evident. Dawn's gaze was unwavering as she addressed them, her stance firm with her hands resting on her hips. "So you guys are the ones who kidnapped the professor, huh?"
Chimchar, standing by her side, smirked and glanced back at Turtwig. The Grass-type Pokémon, though bruised and battered, looked up in awe at the fiery Pokémon's unexpected display of strength.
The Team Galactic woman, eyes wide with panic, rushed forward towards the lever, her hand outstretched. "S-step back! I'm warning you. Step back or the Professor dies at the ripe old age of 65!"
"I'm 50! 50!" Professor Rowan shouted, cutting through the tension with frustration.
The woman barely had time to react as Chimchar, with a burst of speed, appeared on the stair railing directly in front of her. His claws gleamed menacingly as they sharpened in preparation.
With a scream of terror, the woman staggered back, losing her balance and falling to the ground in sheer shock.
"Let's get the heck outta here!" the man yelled, panic evident in his voice. Without a second glance, he and the woman scrambled towards the door, stumbling down the stairs in their frantic haste.
Their hurried steps echoed through the warehouse as they pushed past Dawn and Lucas, nearly colliding with them in their mad dash for freedom. The woman's face was a mask of terror, while the man's eyes darted around, desperately seeking escape.
Outside, the man and woman dashed towards Professor Rowan's car, their breaths visible in the chill of the morning air. The man fumbled with the car handle, his face twisting in frustration.
"Didn't you have the key!?" the woman snapped, her voice laced with irritation.
The man's hands shook as he checked his pockets, his face paling. "I-I must've left it inside the warehouse!" he stammered.
The woman gritted her teeth, her patience wearing thin. "You are so useless!" she growled. Without missing a beat, she grabbed a nearby rock and swung it at the car window. The glass shattered with a sharp crack, sending shards cascading onto the ground.
Ignoring the sharp edges, she climbed through the jagged opening and reached inside to unlock the door. "Get in!" she screeched, her voice echoing with urgency.
The man scrambled to the open door and clambered in, his movements frantic. The woman quickly slid into the driver's seat, her fingers dancing over the controls.
With a roar, the engine came to life, and the tires screeched as the car jolted forward. They sped out of the parking lot, the vehicle's wheels leaving streaks of rubber as they hurtled down the street, disappearing into the distance.
The car hurtled through the streets with reckless abandon, the tires screeching as they tore through intersections. The speedometer's needle shot from 50 to 65, then surged to 80, the numbers blurring in their rapid ascent.
The woman's eyes were wild with urgency, her hands gripping the wheel tightly as she wove between cars. The man beside her was bracing himself against the dashboard, his face a mask of panic.
Onlookers on the sidewalks gaped in shock, their faces pale as they stumbled back, some raising their hands to shield themselves. Screams of alarm pierced the air as pedestrians scattered, their eyes wide with fear.
The car sliced through the streets like a bullet, barely avoiding other vehicles and narrowly missing pedestrians who yelled and waved their arms, trying to get out of the way. The sound of honking horns and the blur of color from passing cars created a cacophony of chaos.
In a heartbeat, Chimchar materialized in front of the speeding car, his determined eyes locked on the oncoming danger.
The Team Galactic crooks let out panicked shrieks as they saw the fiery Pokémon blocking their path. The car, unable to swerve in time, collided with Chimchar, its momentum forcing him backward.
Chimchar's small frame strained under the immense pressure. He planted his feet firmly into the asphalt, digging them in with intense effort.
Sparks erupted from the tires as Chimchar used all his strength to resist the car's force. His muscles tensed, and he let out a fierce roar, battling the vehicle's relentless push.
The car screeched as Chimchar's powerful grip began to slow its progress. Smoke billowed from the tires, filling the air with the acrid smell of burning rubber. The vehicle shuddered and groaned under the strain, the screech of metal on metal blending with Chimchar's cries.
With a final, mighty push, Chimchar managed to bring the car to a complete stop. The tires continued to smoke, and the vehicle came to a shuddering halt.
Both Team Galactic grunts stared in disbelief, their faces a mixture of shock and awe as they watched Chimchar stand triumphantly in front of them, his chest heaving with exertion.
Chimchar let out a victorious screech, his fiery tail flickering with pride as he looked up into the sky, having thwarted their escape.
The camera panned to a bustling area where a news reporter took center stage. A striking blonde in her sharp, professional reporter attire, stood confidently amidst the chaos.
Her microphone was poised in front of her, and her bright eyes were fixed on the camera. The background was a flurry of activity as police officers and onlookers swarmed around the scene.
"Good afternoon, I'm Stephanie Schofield with Jubilife News," she began, her voice crisp and authoritative. "We're coming to you live from the heart of Jubilife City, where a dramatic turn of events has just unfolded. Behind me, you can see the apprehension of two notorious criminals from the Team Galactic terrorist organization."
The camera shifted to focus on the Team Galactic members, their faces twisted in frustration as they were led away in handcuffs. The woman, still fuming, and the man, looking defeated, were surrounded by law enforcement.
"These individuals were responsible for a series of high-profile crimes, including the kidnapping of Professor Rowan, a respected figure in the Pokémon research community. Earlier today, they orchestrated a daring escape attempt in Professor Rowan's own vehicle, but their plan was thwarted by a heroic intervention."
The footage cut to Chimchar, still standing defiantly by the now-abandoned car, and then to Lucas and Dawn, who were seen conversing nearby.
"Thanks to the swift actions of local trainers and Pokémon, including Chimchar, who bravely confronted the fleeing vehicle, the perpetrators' escape was effectively halted. Authorities are now in the process of securing the scene and ensuring that those responsible for these heinous acts are brought to justice."
Stephanie Schofield turned her attention from the camera to the two figures standing nearby. As Lucas briskly walked away, clearly unsettled, Dawn stepped forward, her face beaming with excitement.
"Excuse me!" Stephanie called out, approaching Dawn. "Could you share your side of the story? What happened here today?"
Dawn's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she met Stephanie's gaze. "Hi, Mom, I hope you're watching this!" she said, her voice filled with pride. "Those Team Galactic guys were bad news. If I didn't stop them, who else would've?"
Stephanie's curiosity piqued. "And you are?"
Dawn flashed a confident smile. "My name's Dawn Platinum! And I'm gonna be the next Champion of Sinnoh, so Cynthia Shirona better enjoy her last moments of fame, 'cause I'm coming for her title!"
Stephanie's eyes widened slightly at the revelation, but she quickly regained her composure. "Well, there you have it, folks. Dawn Platinum, a promising young trainer with big aspirations. We've witnessed an incredible turn of events today, and it's clear that Sinnoh's future holds exciting prospects."
She turned back to the camera, her expression serious yet triumphant. "This is Stephanie Schofield with Jubilife News, bringing you the latest from the heart of the action. Stay tuned for more updates as this story continues to develop."
Lucas stood by Professor Rowan, who was speaking with a few officers nearby. The professor looked worn but relieved as the officers took statements and assessed the situation.
As the officers wrapped up their inquiries and walked away, Lucas turned to Professor Rowan with a sigh of relief.
"A-are you okay, Professor?" he asked, his voice still carrying a note of concern.
Professor Rowan, though visibly shaken, nodded and managed a weary smile. "I'm alright, Lucas. Thanks to you and Dawn. But this could have ended very badly if not for your intervention."
Lucas shook his head, his expression heavy with self-doubt. "No, you mean thanks to just Dawn. You saw what happened. I was useless. I couldn't do anything against those two... but Dawn," he said, watching as Dawn approached, "she's become more powerful than I imagined."
Professor Rowan placed a comforting hand on Lucas's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up, son. You did the best you could. You've proven just how resilient you are."
Lucas's face grew somber, a shadow of sadness crossing his features as he looked at the ground. His thoughts were a swirl of frustration and disappointment.
Dawn approached them, her demeanor full of determination. "So, you said they call themselves Team Galactic, right? Do you think they'll be a problem from here on out?"
Professor Rowan, still looking somewhat drained, shook his head dismissively. "No, absolutely not. More of them might pop up around the region, but I doubt you'll see them again. As for you, your improvement is... astonishing. You've become quite the trainer."
Dawn's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Thanks," she said, her happiness evident in her bright expression.
Professor Rowan rubbed his forehead, wincing slightly. "Look, if you guys will excuse me, I have the biggest headache. Maybe we can meet later today, the three of us. I'd love to hear about your achievements, Dawn. After all, you are, too, my protégé."
With that, he gave a nod and walked away, leaving Lucas and Dawn to their own thoughts.
"W-why did you..." Lucas began, stumbling over his words, "You said you wouldn't be coming. So why did you?"
A conflicted look crossed Dawn's face. "I know... I was never actually going to let you go by yourself. I was just, fed up, and not just with you, but with everything. I just wanted someone to hurt as bad as I did. I'm sorry."
Lucas remained silent, his eyes cast downward, a shadow of despondency darkening his face.
Checking her Pokétch, Dawn cursed under her breath. "Oh Jesus, it's 30 minutes past my break. The boss is so gonna kill me!" She began to turn away but then hesitated, casting a shocked look back at Lucas.
Lucas, his face streaked with tears, spoke through his sobs. "I never knew... weakness could hurt so much!" His tears fell heavily, each drop splashing against the ground.
Dawn stood there, her heart aching as she watched him. "Lucas..." she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
Lucas wiped his tears away with the back of his sleeve. He looked up at the sky with newfound determination. "I'm never gonna be weak again..." he muttered fiercely before striding away, leaving Dawn standing alone, watching him disappear into the distance.
Happy fourth guys, two days ago was my birthday. I turned 21, in case anyone was wondering.
Despite that being the age everyone starts drinking, well, if they weren't already drinking, I've decided I'm gonna be sober for my entire life. I don't ever want to be under the influence of anything.
Well, that has nothing to do with of course. But it's still such a crazy feeling, when I first started fanfiction, I was 17, in my last year of high school, and now I'm in my last year of college.
Alright, that's it from me, please review if you liked this chapter.
—yonas813, out.