It was getting dark in Floccesy Ranch.
The countryside had a different kind of silence to it at night—less like peace and more like isolation. The occasional hoot of a distant Hoothoot or the rustling of leaves were the only things reminding Ash that he wasn't completely alone in the world.
Inside the Pokémon Center, Ash sat quietly on one of the lobby couches, arms folded, eyes fixed on the floor tiles. The sterile lights overhead buzzed faintly, blending into the background hum of the place. Nurse Joy had offered him dinner earlier, but he had politely declined. He wasn't hungry tonight.
His stomach had been in knots ever since the truth about Brock came to light.
The way Brock was a little too eager to welcome him back to Kanto. The way he kept stepping out for calls. The way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore. It all made much more sense now.
Brock had been working with Looker—long enough to let Ash's mother die. Long enough to lie to his face.
And Looker… that man was on another level. Cold, calculated, dangerously convincing. Ash still heard his voice in his head sometimes, telling him how Red's life depended on one little mission. How if Ash didn't comply, his brother might just "slip through the cracks" of the Kanto prison system. No way out.
They weren't just manipulating him—they were cornering him. Ash Ketchum, who once dreamed of being a Pokémon Master, was now reduced to a pawn on someone else's board. Being forced to do dirty work while the people who truly mattered to him—Red, Misty, Dawn, Gary, Paul—were scattered or in danger. It was all so damn stressful.
Ash exhaled slowly, leaning his head back against the couch. The sky outside was getting darker by the minute, and he knew Reggie would be arriving soon. That thought alone kept him from unraveling completely.
A light blue minivan rumbled up the dusty road. Ash straightened, heart skipping a beat.
The van rolled to a stop. The driver's side door flung open—and there he was.
"Reggie!" Ash blurted out before he even thought about it.
His purple hair was a little longer than Ash remembered, tied loosely at the back, and he wore a simple blue jacket over a travel-worn black shirt. He waved once, then moved quickly toward him.
Ash didn't hesitate. He jogged forward, Pikachu leaping down to scurry ahead, and the two friends met halfway in a firm, brotherly hug.
"Man, it's good to see you," Reggie said, clapping Ash hard on the back. "You've been out here all alone, huh?"
Ash laughed under his breath, a little choked up without meaning to. "Yeah… it's been rough. But you're here now."
Reggie pulled back, still holding Ash by the shoulders like he was grounding him. "And guess what? Paul's not far behind. Gary too. Even Misty's coming."
Ash's eyes widened, flickering into genuine happiness. "That's good. I've been missing them."
"Yeah," Reggie said, smiling wider. "We figured you'd need your real team backing you up for what's ahead." He gave a short, knowing nod toward the horizon.
Pikachu chirped excitedly, circling Reggie's legs, tail wagging so hard it was a blur. Reggie knelt to scratch behind Pikachu's ears, laughing.
"You've grown stronger too, huh, buddy?" Reggie said warmly. Pikachu nuzzled into his hand in response.
The inside of the Floccesy Ranch Pokémon Center was quiet, warm, and lit by the late afternoon sun slanting through the windows. They sat across from each other, a steaming mug of Oran Berry tea between them on the table, untouched.
Ash spoke slowly at first, the words falling out heavier than he expected. He told Reggie everything. About Delia's death. About the funeral and Red's anger. About how he had chased after pieces of a broken world, only to find something even worse: Brock, his oldest friend, turning his back. Looker, a man he once trusted, revealed as a puppet master of corruption.
Ash didn't spare himself either. He spoke of the rage that had boiled over inside him—the way he'd nearly crushed James in a blind, violent moment back at Oak's lab. He spoke of the alleyway, the rain, the whispered meetings in the dark corners of Kanto where he watched everything he thought he knew rot from the inside out.
He told Reggie how it had all finally driven him here—far away from the wreckage, to the quiet outskirts of Unova, where he could breathe without hearing betrayal in every footstep.
Reggie listened without interruption. His face didn't twist in judgment or pity. He just listened—steady, the way only someone who had seen enough of the world could.
When Ash finally leaned back, exhausted from dragging those memories into the open, Reggie took a slow breath and looked him squarely in the eye.
"Ash… there's more you need to know," Reggie said, voice low, like he was trying not to shatter the fragile calm between them.
Ash tensed, his gut knotting. "What do you mean?"
Reggie's gaze dropped for a second, then lifted again, heavier now.
"Brock and Team Rocket weren't just trying to carve out power for themselves," Reggie said. "They were building something bigger." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping to almost a whisper. "They were creating a trafficking empire. Pokémon trafficking."
The words hung in the air like ash after a fire.
Ash blinked, not sure he heard right. "Trafficking…?" His voice cracked slightly.
"Yeah," Reggie said grimly. "Capturing rare Pokémon, mostly from Unova. Smuggling them back to Kanto. Selling them to the highest bidders—criminal groups, corrupt officials… anyone willing to pay." He shook his head. "It isn't just some desperate side hustle, Ash. It is an operation.
Ash stared at the floor, a low, bitter noise building in his chest.
"They were using the routes between regions," Reggie went on. "Hiding behind old trade agreements. Even some people in the International Police turned a blind eye—bought off, probably by Looker."
Ash's fists curled tightly in his lap. He could feel the tremble start in his shoulders.
"Brock…" he said, almost under his breath. "He knew. He was a part of it from the start."
Reggie gave a slow, pained nod. "I'm sorry, Ash. I wish it wasn't true. But we've got the evidence. Paul and Gary dug up enough to burn half of Kanto's underground if we wanted to." He paused, letting the weight of that settle. "We're not just here to back you up. We're here to end this."
Ash leaned forward, elbows pressing hard into his knees, his forehead resting against his clasped hands. The fire crackled quietly in the hearth.
The betrayal cut deeper than he thought anything could.
The fire crackled softly nearby, throwing long shadows across the floor. Ash stared into it, like maybe if he looked hard enough, he could find some answer hiding in the flames.
"I have to stop them," Ash finally muttered, more to himself than to Reggie. His hands curled into fists. "I can't just sit here while they—while they tear everything apart."
There was a wild edge in his voice now, desperation bubbling just beneath the surface. A part of him—the reckless, stubborn part—was already ready to charge out the door, fists flying, Pokémon blazing.
Reggie reached across the table and set a firm hand on Ash's arm, steadying him.
"I get it," Reggie said quietly. "Believe me, Ash, I do. But going after them now? Alone?" He shook his head. "It'd be a death sentence. They're too organized now."
Ash gritted his teeth. He hated it—hated the idea of standing still when he knew something this rotten was happening.
"But that doesn't mean we do nothing," Reggie added, voice low but sure. "We'll move when the time's right. We'll tear their whole empire down.
Ash looked at him then, eyes searching. "You swear?" he asked, his voice rough.
"I swear," Reggie said, no hesitation. "The second Misty, Gary, and Paul get here, we start digging. We'll find their weak spots. And when we hit them… they won't get back up."
Ash let out a long, slow breath. Some of the coiled rage inside him loosened, just enough.
He nodded once, sharp and grateful.
"Thanks, Reggie," he said, voice hoarse but sincere. "For coming. For… for everything."
Reggie smiled, a little tired but real. "What are brothers for, huh?"
They stood up together, the moment lingering between them a second longer before they both knew it was time to rest.
Reggie clapped Ash on the back, then grabbed his duffel bag off the floor.
They moved through the quiet Pokémon Center, their footsteps soft against the old wooden floor.
Ash paused at his door, glancing over his shoulder.
Reggie was already slipping into his own room, tossing a casual wave over his shoulder.
"Tomorrow," Reggie called softly. "Everything starts tomorrow."
Ash stood there a moment longer, the weight of the promise settling over him like a cloak.
He turned, pushed open the door, and stepped into the dark.
He didn't bother turning on the light. He just dropped onto the bed, boots still on, staring up at the ceiling.
He could still feel the fire inside him—fierce and restless.
The sun had barely climbed over the hills when they finally arrived.
Floccesy Ranch stretched out under a soft golden light, the fields wide and wild around them, stitched with fences and the occasional slow-moving herd of Mareep.
The Pokémon Center sat on a little rise, its weathered red roof almost blending into the sleepy landscape. A single Pidove flapped lazily overhead.
Misty climbed out of the car first, slamming the door shut behind her. She pulled her jacket tighter around her and glanced toward the Center's doors, eyes scanning for any sign of Ash or Reggie.
Gary stretched as he stepped out, raking a hand through his messy brown hair. He looked travel-worn but alert, the kind of alert that came from days of running on adrenaline and worry.
Paul, as usual, said nothing. He simply shouldered his bag and started up the hill without waiting.
"He's gotta be here," Misty said, more to herself than to the others. Her voice trembled slightly, and she didn't even try to hide it.
Gary gave a low grunt of agreement. "Reggie said last night they were here. Should've known Ash would find a way to land in the middle of nowhere."
"Yeah," Misty muttered, but there was a tight knot in her chest that wouldn't loosen until she saw him with her own eyes.
They pushed through the doors into the Pokémon Center.
The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of old wood and something warm baking—probably the Center's Chansey making breakfast somewhere in the back. It was quiet, but not dead.
And there, leaning against the reception counter, arms crossed, waiting with a calm patience only he could pull off, was Reggie.
The moment Misty saw him, her pace quickened, boots thudding against the floor.
"Reggie!" she called, relief bursting through her like a dam breaking.
Reggie pushed off the counter with a tired but genuine smile, meeting them halfway.
"You made it," he said simply.
Misty practically collided into him, throwing her arms around him in a brief, fierce hug before stepping back, cheeks flushing pink. "We—we came as fast as we could."
Gary stepped forward, slinging his bag off his shoulder with a soft thud onto the floor. He gave Reggie a nod, one that carried the weight of everything they weren't saying aloud yet.
Paul just stood there, sharp eyes flickering around the Center like he was already calculating every exit, every threat. But he gave a slight tilt of his head toward Reggie—a silent greeting only someone who knew Paul would recognize.
"You guys look like you haven't slept," Reggie said, giving a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"We haven't," Gary said dryly. "Vermilion to Mistralton was the easy part. Getting through these backroads was like navigating a maze."
Misty brushed a few strands of hair from her face, glancing around anxiously.
"Where's Ash?" she asked, voice cracking just a little.
Reggie's face softened. "He's here. He's safe. Got in late last night." He pointed down the hall behind him. "Still knocked out, probably. He needed the sleep."
Misty let out a long breath, the tension finally lowering for the time being. She nodded, a hand coming up to press lightly against her heart, as if just hearing it wasn't quite enough.
"Good," she whispered. "That's good."
Reggie gave them a moment, then spoke again, quieter this time.
"We've got a lot to talk about," he said. "But first—you guys should eat and rest. You're gonna need your strength for what's coming."
Paul's mouth twitched—something between a smirk and a grimace.
"That bad?" he said.
Reggie only nodded once. "Worse."
Reggie led the trio down the hallway, his steps slow, voice calm.
"There's food set up in the back," he said. "You guys need to eat. You've been going nonstop."
Paul glanced at Gary, who looked ready to collapse, but Misty only stared straight ahead, eyes steeled with determination.
"No," she said sharply, halting in place. "Not until I see him."
Reggie turned back to her.
"Misty—"
"No," she repeated, voice cracking at the edges now. "I've been worried sick thinking about him ever since the call. I heard what happened to Red, Reggie. That wasn't some rumor. Red was almost killed. And if something happened to Ash…" She trailed off, swallowing hard. "I have to see him. Now."
Reggie met her eyes. He nodded silently, and without a word, turned and gestured toward the room near the end of the hall.
"That one," he said. "He's still out cold."
Misty gave a quick nod and marched off, heart pounding louder with every step.
Reggie turned back to the guys. "Let her have a moment. We'll talk once she's back."
The hallway was quiet as Misty approached the room. Her hand lingered on the doorknob for a moment, heart thumping like a drum. Then she turned it slowly, pushing the door open.
A soft light spilled in from the half-closed blinds. The room was simple—just a small dresser, a nightstand, and a bed tucked against the corner.
And there he was.
Ash.
Lying sprawled on his side, hair tousled, blanket tangled around his legs.
Pikachu was curled up on his chest like a tiny yellow furnace, rising and falling with each breath, ears twitching slightly with every exhale.
For a long moment, Misty didn't move. The breath she'd been holding finally slipped from her lungs as her shoulders relaxed.
He was alive.
He was okay.
A small, involuntary smile crept across her face, relief washing over her in a silent wave. Her legs finally gave way, and she stepped forward, sinking slowly into the chair by his bedside.
"Idiot…" she whispered, voice thick. "Always getting yourself into trouble."
Ash stirred faintly, mumbling something inaudible. Then, slowly, his eyes cracked open, blinking against the light. Groggy.
"…Misty?"
She leaned in, brushing some hair out of his face. "Yeah. It's me."
His gaze cleared, and when he saw her sitting there, close enough to touch, his lips parted in disbelief.
"Misty," he repeated, this time with more weight. "You're here."
She smiled gently, hand resting over his blanket-covered arm. "Told you I'd always find you."
Ash blinked hard, trying to sit up, causing Pikachu to grunt and stretch before settling back in with a sleepy squeak.
He rubbed his eyes, then looked at her—really looked at her. "I thought you were still in Kanto…"
"We came as soon as Paul called," she said. "I couldn't stay. Not after hearing what happened to Red. Not after thinking I might lose you too."
Ash's face darkened for a moment, memories of that night flashing behind his eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"I didn't think I needed anyone," he admitted. "But… when I saw you just now—" He looked down, ashamed. "—I realized how wrong I was. I needed someone like you, Misty. I always did."
She reached out, taking his hand gently. "You don't have to go through this alone anymore. We're here now. I'm here."
For a moment, they didn't speak. Just sat in the quiet warmth of the room, the sun beginning to peek through the blinds, casting soft gold across the floor.
Ash squeezed her hand. Not too hard. Just enough to let her know he meant it.
"Thanks, Misty."
She gave his hand a little squeeze back. "You're welcome, Ash."
The warm light of early morning streamed through the Pokémon Center's front windows, casting long golden beams across the lobby floor. Ash, now fully awake and dressed, walked side by side with Misty down the short corridor. Her arm grazed his as they stepped into the open room, where Reggie, Paul, and Gary were already gathered around a low wooden table, maps and notes scattered across it like a detective's board.
Paul glanced up first. "About time."
Ash let out a small smirk. "Good to see you too."
Misty gave Paul a little shove on the shoulder before settling into one of the lounge chairs. Ash sat down next to Gary, who passed him a folded flyer with a smirk.
Reggie was standing, arms crossed, his usual calm demeanor tinged with the seriousness of someone forced into command. He waited until the group quieted before speaking.
"Alright. Let's get one thing straight," Reggie began, tapping a pen against the edge of the map. "We don't have Clemont. We don't have Professor Oak. Which means this all falls on us now."
Everyone sat up a bit straighter. Even Pikachu, perched on Ash's shoulder, narrowed its eyes.
"If we go charging into Kanto right now," Reggie continued, "we'll get torn apart. Brock's people… they're watching every route, every port, every crossing. And Team Rocket? They'd be on us in minutes."
Ash frowned, his fingers twitching. "So what do we do? Sit around?"
"No," Reggie said firmly. "We dig."
He stepped around the table, pointing to a circled area on the map—Flocessy Ranch, and just beyond it, several paths stretching toward the town proper.
"Brock's trafficking ring isn't just a rumor. It's real. And it's moving Pokémon from here in Unova, all the way back to Kanto. That kind of operation needs infrastructure—supply routes, handlers, transport."
He looked to Paul and Misty.
"That's where you two come in. I need eyes on the ground. Follow the trail. We figure out exactly how these Pokémon are being moved—when, where, and how. Don't confront anyone yet. Just gather information. Subtle."
Paul crossed his arms, nodding. "Got it."
Misty gave a resolute nod as well. "I'll do whatever it takes. They won't get away with this."
Reggie turned to Ash and Gary next, his tone shifting just slightly—less commanding, more strategic.
"As for you two… Flocessy Town is having a small double battle tournament today. Word is it's nothing major, but it's drawing in trainers from around the region. Perfect opportunity to blend in, sharpen your skills, and talk to people. Locals, vendors, travelers—see what they've heard. Rumors, strange activity, anything that stands out."
Ash glanced at the flyer. The tournament was being held in the town square. No entry fee. Just walk in and battle.
"Think we'll run into anyone from Brock's side?" Gary asked, raising an eyebrow.
Reggie shrugged. "Doubt it. But I wouldn't rule out scouts. Either way, you two could use the warm-up. We're not just playing defense anymore."
Gary grinned. "Been a while since we teamed up. This could be fun."
Ash nodded, a flicker of determination returning to his face. "Yeah. Let's see if we still got it."
Reggie grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. "One more thing. There's a few small roulottes set up around the outskirts of the ranch. Travelers, wanderers, old-timers. People who hear things. That's where Paul, Misty, and I will be poking around."
He looked at each of them, one by one.
"Stay sharp We're not ready for a fight yet… but it's coming."
The room fell into a heavy, thoughtful silence. Then Misty stood up first.
"Well, let's get to work."
Ash met her eyes, giving a small, confident nod, then turned to Gary.
"You ready, partner?"
Gary smirked. "Let's show these Unova trainers how we do things in Pallet Town."
And with that, the team split up, the gears of resistance finally beginning to turn.