Chapter 13: Encounter in the Hideout

"When we made it to the mission location, we discovered that Team Rocket was chasing Raikou into a trap, and had machines to absorb its electric attacks. We split into groups with some of us focusing on helping Raikou, and the others attempting to sabotage the Thunder Field. When it didn't work, we decided that the best plan would be to outright destroy part of the field, so Raikou could take out the Pokémon keeping it trapped there with Mean Look."

Sasha's words dominated everyone's attention. Ray and Mai stood alongside her as she gave the mission report. The rest of us waited behind them at the entrance to the Midnight Stadium battlefield. And of course, Stalker watched all of us from the center of the room, his gaze intense and focused as he took in every detail of our mission.

"I took everyone's Self-Destruct Pokémon and planted them in the trucks," Ray continued, picking up where Sasha left off. "After the explosions, I recalled them and flew off on my Fearow to give the Rockets a target to chase. That way they wouldn't suspect a whole group of their own recruits was behind it."

"They never saw any of us there but Ray. And by the time they got back to base, we were already back in bed," Sasha said.

In the end, it was Ray's group that made the biggest difference, along with the trainers who had the Self-Destruct Pokémon. The rest of us had been there for support, but ultimately hadn't contributed much. It was kind of expected, in a way. With thirty-six of us there, it wasn't possible for everyone to share in the glory. The sheer numbers had just helped increase the chance that some of us could be useful. It didn't matter that I hadn't gotten to do much.

Yeah, I kept telling myself that, but I didn't actually believe it. I just hadn't let myself express how much it bothered me. Rudy was already doing a good enough job of that, anyway. He'd complained the entire way back to Midnight Island. Darren was the only one who seemed fine with it.

Everyone on the Rebellion was silent as Stalker carefully considered the mission report. He paced back and forth in front of us in deep concentration.

"I think…" he finally began, making everyone hold their breath, "you all did well."

An audible sigh of relief swept throughout the crowd, myself included. I didn't know why I'd felt so nervous. We'd succeeded. And how would Stalker know exactly which of us hadn't done much? Even he wasn't that good.

Stalker chuckled a bit under his breath upon seeing our reaction. "I'd already heard the Rockets' story of what happened. I just wanted to hear it in your words."

Rudy snorted next to me. "He could've told us that."

"The next Legendary mission won't go as smoothly as this one did," Stalker said, folding his arms. "The Rockets weren't expecting you—next time they will. You avoided a direct confrontation this time. Next time it will be inevitable." His expression had hardened back into its usual intensity. The idea of fighting Rockets was still an uncomfortable one, even after all our training. But still—that's why we were here, wasn't it? To get to the point where we could actually do it and come out on top?

"Of course… that likely won't be for a while," Stalker went on. "There's plenty of things to do in the meantime. Now that you're established Rockets, you'll need to make semi-regular trips to headquarters—don't want to get flagged as inactive. But that's a good thing, because it will give you opportunities for smaller missions, minor sabotage, and gathering information." He paused upon noticing several rebels off to the side who were literally bouncing up and down with excitement.

"And while we're on the topic of non-Legendary missions… I think the Celadon rebels have something to say."

Of course—the Celadon rebels hadn't even been a part of the Raikou mission. They'd had a mission of their own… something about getting supplies? Honestly, our mission seemed way cooler than that. Then again, maybe they'd all gotten to be useful during theirs.

The group of twelve all stepped forward, dragging two large boxes with them. From where I was standing, I couldn't tell what was inside them, but apparently it was pretty great? Most of them couldn't help glancing over at the boxes every few seconds and grinning broadly.

"So there we were, in the dead of night," one of them began dramatically. "We followed an unsuspecting group of Rockets to their giant warehouse where they keep the Game Corner prizes…"

"We didn't really need to. I mean, we already knew where it was," a second rebel added. The first one shot her a glare before continuing.

"After several days of spying on them to find out the right time to strike, we expertly infiltrated the—"

"We had the access codes," another rebel cut in flatly.

"That's still infiltrating!" the storyteller yelled, face turning red. "And we had to have someone standing guard and everything, and we had to avoid the cameras. Totally infiltrating. But we managed to keep our cool and locate the goods, and sneak out before anyone saw!"

Everyone in our group was silent. Somehow not one of them had actually managed to get the point of the story across. I think one of them realized that, because they hastily added, "Right, so we got Pokémon and TMs for everyone, the end."

I couldn't help bursting out laughing at the suddenness of it. An immediate commotion ensued as everyone rushed forward all at once to see inside the boxes. We were seriously getting new Pokémon? Just like that? I was actually having a hard time believing it. Apparently a lot of rebels had thrown questioning looks at Stalker, because at that moment he said, "You're not going to have much time to search for Pokémon anywhere other than on the island. I figured this would give the team a boost."

Well, it was a boost I sorely needed. New moves and new Pokémon. I honestly wasn't sure which one I was more excited for. Sure, I desperately needed a new team member. But new moves would be a huge benefit to Swift and Firestorm, neither of whom had many interesting tricks.

"Most of the TMs aren't reusable, so be careful how you use them," Stalker told everyone. "No more than one non-reusable TM per Pokémon. But more importantly, everyone has to learn this." He held up a series 5 disc with a glossy white case. "This is a reusable copy of TM17, and it's the most important move you'll ever learn—Protect."

Everyone stared. I couldn't quite remember what that move did, other than something involving protection, obviously.

Stalker went on. "It allows your Pokémon to guard itself from almost anything for a short time. You've been training for multi battles for over a month—you should be able to see the value in that. Protect is the single best way to buy yourself time, find out more about your opponent, land a free hit with another teammate, and allow your Pokémon to guard you from almost anything. We'll be practicing all of its applications over the next few days."

Well alright then. If it was really that useful, then I'd be sure to teach it to my team… after I got my new Pokémon. It just made more sense to get a new team member before deciding what moves the rest of your team needed.

"Everyone gets one Pokémon!" a Celadon rebel shouted. "And we're all picking randomly, so it's fair. So no cheating!"

Everyone in front of me had grabbed a Pokéball and retreated to somewhere away from the crowd, so I finally had a chance to reach down and grab one for myself. A new Pokémon. It felt unreal. I hadn't gotten a new Pokémon ever since this adventure started. I barely had a chance to get five feet from the box before being ambushed by Rudy.

"Hey! All three of us should open ours at the same time!" he exclaimed, grabbing me and Darren by the shirt sleeve and dragging us away from the main group. I didn't bother fighting—there was no point trying to protest once Rudy had his mind set on something.

"I'm guessing you just want someone to brag to," Darren pointed out.

"Whatever," Rudy said quickly, letting go of us. "On the count of three, we open 'em, alright?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you say so."

"One… two… three!"

Three bursts of light appeared in front of us at once. My eyes widened as the mass of energy in front of me took on its true shape. The light started to fade, revealing a yellow body. It was…?

My face fell. A golden-furred mouse now stood in front of me, stretching its limbs and raising a lightning-bolt tail. A Pikachu. I had another Pikachu. A replacement for Chibi, in other words. I felt a sudden tightness in my chest and turned away quickly. The last thing I needed was for the Pikachu to see my face and think it had done something wrong. And in any case… I did have a convenient excuse for what to look at right then—Rudy and Darren's Pokémon.

"No. Way."

At Rudy's feet stood a small dinosaur covered in rocky green armor. It blinked its large, violet eyes and looked around, obviously confused by its surroundings. Rudy stared at the rock-type with a mixture of shock and total adoration.

Seriously? He'd gotten a Larvitar? I mean, in a way I kind of expected Team Rocket to be selling rare and valuable Pokémon, but… Larvitar?

"That's it. I won. I got the best Pokémon." Rudy reached down to pick up Larvitar and admire it, but got as far as wrapping his arms around it before realizing that the tiny reptile was much heavier than it looked. He then settled on kneeling down and shaking its stubby arms. The rock-type stared back at him, eyes half-lidded, looking totally bored with the attention it was receiving.

"I don't think I did too bad. My team has a teleporter now," Darren said. On the ground next to him sat a golden humanoid resting its claws in its lap with its thick tail wrapped around it. An Abra—not just a teleporter, but a powerful psychic.

"Mine's got a type advantage, so I won," Rudy said, smirking.

Darren didn't really seem to care. "Once it evolves. Do you have any idea how hard it is to train a Larvitar to its final form? Cause I'm thinking you don't."

"Stalker's got a Tyranitar."

Darren shrugged. "He's Stalker."

Rudy didn't have a comeback for that one. But at that moment he glanced in my direction, probably because I hadn't been saying anything. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then his eyes fell on my new Pokémon. "You got another Pikachu? Lame, I've always wanted one. Of course… Larvitar is still way better," he added quickly.

Darren made eye contact and tilted his head with an odd expression, almost like he knew what I was thinking and wanted to comment. Then again, the disappointment was probably written all over my face. Rudy just hadn't noticed because he was Rudy.

I glanced around the stadium to see everyone else meeting their new Pokémon excitedly. Pikachu and Abra looked to be pretty common amongst the prize Pokémon, along with the spiked Nidorino and Nidorina, the dainty Clefairy, and the six-tailed Vulpix. I only spotted one other Larvitar amongst the group. Similarly rare was the snakelike Dratini—only two kids had gotten one. A few rebels even looked to be trading their newfound Pokémon, probably in cases where they'd gotten a Pokémon they already had. In a way… that was kind of what my situation was. Would it be worth it to try to trade my Pikachu?

I looked back at Pikachu. The electric-type mostly looked weirded out by everything that was going on. "*Who are you all supposed to be?*" it asked.

Well this was awkward. What was the best way to explain it? "You guys were gonna be given out as Game Corner prizes, but then a few members of our team… rescued you and now… we're your new trainers? If you want?" I finished lamely.

"*What?*"

I groaned. Should I even be introducing myself as its trainer? If I was already considering trading with someone? But the only reason I felt that way was because of Chibi, and I didn't have him anymore, so it wasn't like I could use the excuse that my team already had a Pikachu. And it wasn't fair to this new Pikachu that I was still fixated on what happened to my last one.

But… what had happened to him? After they took him. I still didn't know. That was the worst part.

"I've got to go ask someone something," I announced suddenly, marching away from the group and leaving everyone staring at me in confusion.

Stalker. Stalker would know what had happened to him. Stalker knew everything about Team Rocket. Okay, that was a silly over-exaggeration, but I didn't care.

I walked straight up to Stalker, painfully aware of how miserable I probably looked. "Hey, can I talk to you?" I asked.

Stalker raised an eyebrow but nodded all the same, and the two of us walked off to the side of the battlefield, away from the main group. Once we were a good distance away, he turned to me and said, "You look distracted. What's on your mind?"

I fidgeted a bit, unsure how to bring up the topic without sounding ungrateful to get a new Pokémon. "I… it's just… I got a Pikachu from the Pokéball box."

The reply was immediate. "You're worried about number nine, aren't you?"

I blinked, completely taken aback. "How'd you know?"

"You stole him from the Rockets. Then you showed up here without him, and the Rockets reported his successful recapture. It wasn't hard to put together." I mentally smacked myself. Figures that he'd be aware of what happened. That's what I'd been banking on, after all.

"You… mentioned we'd get plenty of chances to go on small missions."

He nodded.

It suddenly hit me. I knew what I needed to do. "I… I want to rescue him."

Stalker paused to consider my words, his icy blue eyes staring through me. For several seconds, he didn't say anything, until finally: "Alright. But when you do, I'll need you to do something for me as well."

That was unexpected. But I didn't really have much choice, did I? The only thing I could do was nod.

"I want you to get information on experiment number thirty-six."

Thirty-six. I'd heard that number mentioned by Team Rocket before. But what was so important about it?

"I… sure? What is that?"

"Number thirty-six is the big one. Their most groundbreaking experimental Pokémon yet. And almost all the info on it is being kept completely hush. I need someone to get inside the room where it's being kept and copy all of its data, especially regarding what its power is like, and whether or not they'll be able to control it like they did the other experiments. Number nine is currently being used to test Legendary control technology, so getting it out of there will be additionally helpful for us, because controlling Legendaries is one thing we do not want them to be capable of."

A chill ran down my spine. Controlling Legendaries. That didn't even seem possible. But they'd apparently been controlling the other experiments—after all, Chibi was the only hybrid I saw on the plane that didn't have that creepily blank, expressionless stare. Still… controlling Legendaries? Somehow, I had never wondered how the Rockets planned to actually do anything with their captured Legends. Suddenly it all made sense. That was why they needed Chibi. And I'd let them take him.

"But first," Stalker continued, "training. The next few days are going to involve some of the most important lessons yet. And Team Rocket base activity needs the chance to settle down a bit. You can go on your mission in three days."

I gaped at him with what had to be desperation all over my face. Three days?

"I know this is important to you. But it needs to wait."

Sparks flew as bolts of lightning shot through the air one after the other, crashing against a shimmering wall of energy that went up at the last second. Rudy crouched low behind the barrier as strings of lighting leapt past him on all sides. Wartortle stood firmly in front of him, arms spread wide and a look of anxious concentration on his face as he maintained the shield in front of them. Across the battlefield, Pikachu paused the offense for a few moments to let Wartortle recover before pressing the attack once more. The electric rodent lunged to the side and fired several more bolts at Rudy, who ducked back behind Wartortle in a flash. The turtle recoiled slightly from the lightning flying towards him, but still managed to throw up a shielding Protect at the last second. Scattered bolts flew past the shield, forcing Rudy to huddle closer to his starter to avoid getting hit.

"Might wanna tell Pikachu to ease up a little bit; that last one almost got you," I said.

Rudy waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, she's just making it tough for Wartortle, that's all. And that's the point, isn't it? To make sure we can protect ourselves even when they're trying to hit us?"

I got the feeling from the mischievous glint in her eyes that Pikachu wasn't so much making the training tough as she actually wanted Rudy to get hit with a Thundershock. Not in a malicious sort of way, but in a wouldn't-this-be-hilarious sort of way.

I'd let Rudy train Pikachu for now. It wasn't fair to her that I was still hung up on losing Chibi and couldn't handle battling with her. And besides… if all went well, I'd be returning to the base with Chibi later tonight, and then Rudy could go ahead and keep her.

"Dang. 45 seconds again," Rudy said, glancing at the timer on his Pokégear and frowning. "Haven't been able to break that with Wartortle."

"Didn't Stalker say that 30 seconds or so was the minimum before you can use Protect again?" I asked.

"I guess, but the rest of my team is down to 40 seconds." Given that he trained the rest of his team far more often than his starter, that was hardly surprising. "What about you? How short of a wait is your Charmeleon down to?"

To be honest, I couldn't remember. My upcoming mission was occupying almost every space of my mind. I still gave it my all at Stalker's lessons, but after hours? No way. In any case, Swift and Firestorm had been practicing their new moves on their own (Shadow Claw for Firestorm and Aerial Ace for Swift).

"Well, enough with Wartortle for now. Time to train Larvitar some more," Rudy said, recalling his starter and pulling out a different Pokéball.

I snorted. "Haven't you been training Larvitar non-stop since you got her? I was actually surprised to see you giving Wartortle a shot at all."

"Yeah, well Darren's right, I'll never get her evolved if I don't train with her a ton," he said resentfully. I was still pretty sure that even with all the training in the world, it'd be months before her evolution. In fact, it was pretty rare for the average trainer to get a Pokémon like Larvitar or Dratini to reach their final form at all.

I watched Rudy train for the rest of the night, offering commentary when he asked for it and taunting when he didn't. At 10 pm, it was time to leave. I waved goodbye and set off for Stalker's office, my heart already beating a bit more quickly in anticipation for the upcoming mission. I had just left the battlefield and rounded the corner towards the left hallway when I heard a voice behind me.

"You're off to get your cool Pikachu back now, aren't you?" I stopped walking and turned around. It was Darren.

I'd finally told Rudy and Darren the truth about Chibi. How he hadn't really left, he'd been stolen. There was no getting around it—how else was I supposed to explain why I was going on a mission out of the blue?

"You didn't really have to keep all of that a secret, you know?" he said. "I mean, you've known Rudy a lot longer than you've known me, and even he didn't know."

I bristled. "I don't like dragging other people into my problems."

He chuckled a bit. "Well that's kind of dumb. As teammates, isn't it our job to get dragged into each other's problems?"

Teammates. I'd always been thinking of this in terms of myself. The things I had to do. Just like when I hadn't told Rudy I was joining the Rebellion.

"I'm not asking to come with you or anything," he said, holding his arms up. "It's your business, and all that. I'm just saying you might want to try telling the people you're fighting Team Rocket with about stuff that happened with Team Rocket?"

Well, putting it that way made it sound really stupid that I hadn't. Heck, the only reason he even knew about the plane incident was because Rudy had told literally everyone the first week we got here. The more I thought about it, the more I was unsure why exactly I'd been keeping so many secrets.

I sighed. "Okay, you're right. When I get back, I'm telling everyone what happened, whether it goes well or not."

Darren blinked. "Huh, that was easier than I expected. Alright, I'll stop keeping you so you can go get him. Try not to die," he said brightly, giving a wave before walking off. I stared as he left, at a loss for words. But then, I'd long since learned to not put too much thought into half of what he said.

Stalker's office wasn't far ahead. I strode down the hallway and knocked twice on the door before opening it. Stalker was seated at his desk, reading something on his laptop. He glanced up at me when I entered.

"You ready?" he asked.

I nodded. Stalker stood up and walked past me, motioning for me to follow him.

"I finished modifying the permissions on your Rocket account. You'll have access to bases other than Cerulean now, plus high security areas that would normally reject your ID card." He handed me the card along with a flash drive. "You'll also need this. It has a script on it that will automatically copy all the relevant data on number thirty-six when it's plugged into the computers in that room."

The two of us stepped outside, and as always, I was never ready for the burst of warm, humid air that hit even at this time of night. It was probably my least favorite thing about Midnight Island, and it made me miss the cool, breezy nights in Viridian.

Stalker pulled out a Pokéball and opened it to release his Charizard. In a flash, the orange dragon appeared in front of us, her tail flame piercing the darkness. Darren's Abra wasn't quite experienced enough for long-range teleportation yet. So for now, flying was still the best option. I climbed up onto the fire-type's back and wrapped my arms around her neck.

"The base will be quiet this time of night. But that's no reason to let your guard down," he said, his voice stern. "Don't be seen doing something you're not supposed to. This is a stealth mission."

A stealth mission. I wasn't going to be seen. The Rockets would never know I was there. All I had to do was grab Chibi, get the data on number thirty-six, and get out. Simple.

"I've got this," I told him, and for once, I meant it.

Stalker nodded, and his Charizard spread her massive blue wings before launching into the air. The air rushed past us as the dragon flapped aggressively to gain altitude as quickly as possible, finally leveling off her flight once we reached a comfortable soaring height.

The flight to Celadon didn't take long. That, or I just had really bad awareness of time right then. Either way, it felt like we had just left the familiar sights of Midnight Island before the dazzling glimmer of Celadon's nightlife greeted me on the horizon. Stalker's Charizard dove down in a wide spiral over the city, zeroing in on the most densely populated part of downtown before landing in a deserted alleyway. I climbed off the dragon's back and waved as she took flight once more and disappeared into the night sky, leaving only her tail flame visible.

Watching my ride leave like that gave the whole mission an air of finality. I was here, and wasn't leaving until I succeeded. No going back now.

I grabbed both Pokéballs from my pocket and opened them, releasing Swift and Firestorm in a flash of light. They glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings apprehensively.

I took a deep breath. "I'm just letting you guys know that we're at the base. The next time I let you out might be in a fight, so be ready to lead with Protect, okay?"

Swift gave me a quizzical look. "*Why do you think you will have to battle?*"

"I don't think that," I countered. "I mean, I'm hoping this will just be a run in, grab Chibi's Pokéball, run out kinda deal. I just know something always goes wrong."

Firestorm stared pointedly. "*Then you have to let us out if you get in trouble.*"

"I just said I was going to," I said, laughing slightly.

Firestorm snorted in a 'sure, whatever' kind of way, and I rolled my eyes before recalling both of my Pokémon. Then I took a deep breath and stepped out of the alleyway.

Cerulean had been full of businesses, and even the downtown area by the Rocket base felt clean and open. Celadon was… nothing like that. The alleyway opened into a dingy street lined with the seediest clubs, casinos and bars I'd ever seen. Bikers, gamblers, and the occasional Rockets filled the walkways, and I couldn't help stepping back to stay out of view. My pulse quickened. Nothing about this felt safe. I was a kid with only two Pokémon completely surrounded by adults in the shadiest place imaginable. Why did I think this was a good idea again? My limbs went rigid and refused to move, so I just stood there at the edge of the building, my mind swimming in anxiety and frustration. I hadn't even made it to the base yet and I already had problems.

Then again… I was visibly dressed as a Rocket. That carried a lot of weight around here, right? No one was going to bother a Rocket heading to base. I didn't have anything to worry about.

Nothing to worry about. I repeated it to myself three times. Finally convinced, I clenched my fists and stepped out onto the sidewalk, doing my best to appear confident and in my element despite feeling so completely out of place.

The Rocket Game Corner looked like it was trying its hardest to stand out from its surroundings, and it was succeeding. The building, with its sleek black walls and gold and silver-painted accents combined with flashing neon signs and cheesy posters everywhere, had a fake-elegant air to it. It also had a distinct lack of graffiti—but then again, who would have the guts to vandalize it? With how influential the Rockets were in this area and how well-known their presence was?

I ducked around the corner of the building and scanned the wall for the members-only side entrance, spotting the card reader standing out against the black paint. I retrieved my ID from my pocket and tapped it to the reader, which flashed a green light and caused the heavy door to swing open. Beyond the door lay a dimly lit flight of stairs leading down.

That was all it took for me, a rebel, to get into Team Rocket's base. It was almost funny how easy it was. Then again, I could only do it with Stalker's resources. And I still had no idea how he pulled off half the things he did.

My footsteps echoed off the walls as I descended the staircase. At the bottom, I was greeted with a red curtain—brushing it aside revealed the entrance to the base.

The main lobby looked just as fancy as the casino above it, with black and white tile floors, large monitors along the walls, and plenty of gold-painted statues of Pokémon decorated throughout. Honestly, it sort of looked more like a lounge than the entrance to a base. But I guess it fit the mood of the area? Not to mention it was after hours and everyone was off-duty. The few Rockets in the room were laid back on the couches and chatting with each other while having a smoke. A couple of them glanced up when I entered but didn't pay me any mind. I took that opportunity to sit down on the nearest unoccupied couch and pull out my R-com, bringing up a map of the HQ.

This base was structured totally different from the Cerulean base. It was a lot bigger and more spread out, with fewer floors. Judging by the map, it looked like it was broken into divisions, with the main lobby, cafeteria, and acquisitions on the top floor; tech development, Pokémon experimentation and storage spaces in the second basement floor, and all the offices and quarters on the lowest floor. My eyes traced the map of the second floor, moving from one label to the next until finally settling on the experiment containment facility.

That had to be it. Time to do this. I set off down the stairs and into the depths of the base.

The fancy atmosphere was completely gone on the second floor and replaced with a high-tech, metallic appearance. And even with a map, the layout was confusing. The moving walkways probably made it faster for Rockets to reach their destination if they actually knew what they were doing, which I didn't. Twice I found myself taking the wrong path at a branch and winding up in a storage room clear on the other side of the floor. Good thing there was no one else around, otherwise I'd have looked completely stupid and more than a little bit suspicious.

Finally, I was pretty sure I'd made it to the right area. I checked the map again. Yes, this was definitely it. There was no way an ordinary grunt would ever have access to a high-security room like this. Good thing I wasn't an ordinary grunt. I tapped my ID card on the card scanner and the door slid open.

I flipped the light switch to reveal a room completely lined with computerized panels. The majority of the floor space was taken up by giant test tubes and strange machinery I couldn't identify. A thin layer of dust covered most of them, although the computer workstations had clearly been used recently—unfiled paperwork and a few food wrappers sat alongside the keyboards.

On the far side of the room stood a heavy metallic door with a small window. I walked over and peered through it to see dozens of cells that were most likely for housing Pokémon. Each cell had a bed, a feeding station, and what looked like barrier projectors on the cell doors.

But no one was in there. And I was so sure I'd been onto something, too.

Kicking the ground in frustration, I turned around to try a different section of the base. And then I saw it: a sleek metallic case clipped to the control panel along the wall. It looked… familiar. As I approached it, recognition suddenly hit me. It was a Pokéball containment unit, like the one we'd seen on the plane. That had to be it… the experiments must have been kept in there.

My fingers shook slightly with anticipation as I reached out to undo the latches on the sides of the case before slowly opening it. Three Pokéballs. Two of them normal. One of them black like Chibi's ball had been. Could it be him? What were the odds?

I clenched my teeth. Yet another instance where a Pokédex would be useful, and another instance for me to feel like an idiot for not having one. I didn't have any way of checking the balls' contents without opening them. And that was a huge risk.

I stared at the Pokéballs. It was a risk I'd have to take. Otherwise this whole trip would have been pointless. I slowly reached my hand out to grab the black one, fingers trembling. I grasped the ball and tugged it free from its slot, rolling it in my palm.

"Here goes nothing." I pressed the button.

A burst of black energy surged out of the ball, taking the shape of… no. No, not that one, anything but that one. A glimmering green armor-plated exoskeleton… bladed forearms… a pointed, reptilian face…

I'd barely registered what I was looking at before it rushed me headlong and tackled me to the ground, knocking the Pokéball from my hand. My back slammed to the floor, sending a jolt of pain up my spine and knocking the air from my lungs, and then I immediately found myself faced with the razor edge of its scythe poised just inches from my throat.

My brain froze up and my limbs went numb. I struggled to pull away, but the Scyther had me completely pinned. I couldn't even make a sound—I was still coughing and sputtering from having the wind knocked from me. Stupid! Why had I let this happen?! I couldn't do anything.

Time seemed to crawl. I lay motionless, gasping and wheezing for air and waiting for a death that didn't seem to want to come. All I could do was stare helplessly at my attacker's face. Its piercing blue eyes glared back at me. And then they blinked, looking almost… skeptical. I didn't understand. What was it waiting for?

But… wait. When we'd fought Razors last time, its eyes had been completely blank and soulless. The fact that it even had any sort of expression at all this time… if it wasn't just a mindless slave, but instead more like Chibi…

I swallowed hard, trying to get better control of my breathing now that it seemed like I actually had a glimmer of hope. If I could just say something, anything, to let it know I was trying to help the experiments… But my mouth didn't seem capable of forming any words, just random stuttering. And still the mantis held me down, considering me carefully.

"*I remember you,*" he said slowly, the words very meticulous. "*You're not a Rocket. What are you doing here?*" His voice was… weird. It was a complete monotone, with no emotion whatsoever.

"I…"—damn it, why wouldn't my voice stop shaking—"I came here to find Chibi." It was really all the response I could give.

The experiment surveyed me all the more intensely after I had said that. "*You know him by that name?*"

"…Yeah?" Again, all I could figure out how to say. My heart was starting to hurt from pounding so hard.

He paused, as though considering something that he hadn't quite realized until now. "*So then you were the one who took him that day. But how did he end up back here?*"

"He was taken from me," I said, my voice a bit dead. An uneasy feeling had crept over me from talking to him. How could I know that he was on Chibi's side, just because they were both experiments? Should I have even told him I was looking for Chibi?

"*Why did you let that happen to him?*" he asked.

"I didn't mean to! He was just… trying to protect me…" I trailed off, again filled with the biting pain of that memory. And it was weird, but… was that an edge of concern in Razors's voice?

The Scyther stared at me for some time, eyes boring right through me. Sweat dripped down the sides of my face. My mouth had gone dry, and I couldn't swallow anymore. No matter how hard I tried to stop, my eyes kept tracing the edge of the blade hovering over my throat. I just wanted him to do something. The suspense was tearing me apart.

"*You're obviously not on their side,*" he said thoughtfully. "*And he must have trusted you… for some reason.*"

And then he withdrew his scythe and stepped away. I sat bolt upright immediately, coughing hard and inhaling deeply as my brain suddenly realized how little I'd been breathing for the past few minutes. My fingertips tingled with numbness, and I had to clench my fists repeatedly to regain feeling in them.

Razors was still fixing me with an intense stare. "*Did he change… after you took him from the Rockets?*"

I flinched. "…Yeah?"

His eyes studied mine intently. "*That's good.*"

"You seem different now… compared to back then." The words were out of my mouth before I'd even thought about them.

A long pause followed. Something shifted in the Scyther's eyes. They had a strange heaviness, almost like he was exhausted just thinking about it. "*Long ago, my mind was taken from me. I stopped existing. It was like a dream that I couldn't wake from, with the Rockets directing my every move.*"

I stared. So he really had been under their control that whole time. But then… this changed everything. Chibi's desperation on the plane. The anguish he'd shown when asked about it. The two of them… they'd once been close… hadn't they?

"How do you have your mind right now?"

"*This was the first time I've been let out of my ball by anyone other than my handler,*" the mantis said simply. "*He carries a device that resonates with my mind. All the experiment handlers do. It's how they control us.*" He paused. "*The same thing happened to all the hybrids except Chibi.*"

My face fell. "And now that he's back here, they're trying to do it to him too. All so that they can control Legendaries."

Razors nodded.

One thing still didn't make sense though. "What were you doing here?"

His eyes slid to the floor. "*I'm… not sure. I believe they borrowed me for mandatory testing. A lot of my memories are hazy. It doesn't even feel like they're mine. I suppose they're not.*" I didn't really know what to say to that. The Scyther stared downward for some time before fixing me with another piercing gaze. "*You want to find Chibi?*"

I nodded. "I also need to get into the room where they're keeping experiment thirty-six."

Razors paused, looking thoughtful. "*Then I'm coming with you.*" The way he said it made it very clear I didn't get a choice in the matter. "*But we'll need help finding him.*" He spun around, eyes landing on the other Pokéballs in the containment unit. "*Only two others? I thought there would be more.*" He sighed, reached out a bladed forearm, and gently tapped the front button of both Pokéballs.

Twin flashes of light burst out, taking the shape of two large Pokémon—an emerald-green dragon and a snowy white beast. The dragon glanced around in confusion, its dark green antennae swaying behind it. A pair of red-lensed, bug-like eyes fixed on Razors with an incredulous stare.

"*Did… you let us out? Where's your handler? What's that human doing here?*" The Flygon froze as though he had just realized something. "*Wait… are you conscious? I thought your mind got frozen.*"

"*This human freed me, and wishes to free Nine,*" Razors said matter-of-factly.

"*What?*" the Flygon blurted out, sounding completely baffled. "*The human…?*"

"*Stay on topic. You know about Nine, right?*"

The bladed, white-furred beast—an Absol, if I remembered correctly—stepped forward, looking unimpressed. "*What does that have to do with us?*" she said bluntly.

"*We want to rescue him. Will you lend us your help in exchange for gaining your own freedom as well?*"

The two experiments turned to face each other, looking completely taken aback. For several seconds they glanced back and forth between Razors and each other, almost as if they were having a wordless conversation. Finally, the two nodded to us.

"*I heard Nine was in the Legendary control testing facility,*" the Flygon said.

"*Then that's where we're going.*"