Hoshi Mutsu, Rocket Enforcer and proud son of Kanto, smiled as he looked at the two sandslash only barely hanging onto consciousness. They were tired, but still a long way off from the danger of permanent injury – meaning they had plenty more effort to give. “Again.”

  His command bid both the Rocket Grunts behind said Pokémon to grimace, and for a moment Kenny and Tyson eyed each other with something approaching mutual commiseration – a far cry from their usual competitive spirit. But the connection proved short-lived, and soon enough they were back to being hotheaded thugs.

  “Sand Tomb!” “Bulldoze!”

  Though maybe hotheaded was the wrong word. Lately Kenny had been showing more and more actual strategy, going beyond physical conditioning to actually sit down and refine his team's movelist. And while he was still a novice in most areas, he may as well have been Red Ketchum in comparison to his current opponent – and that disparity shone through in the first second of their latest exchange. “Yeah!” the much larger man cried as Jenkins’s sandslash was bogged down in a swirling pit of sand, while Bubbles – who had finally evolved, thank the heavens – was only bounced around slightly. Ground may not resist itself like most types, but their shared species meant that any given attack was solidly blunted by the other's impressive armour shell. “Good job Bubbles! Let ‘im sweat a bit, then go in with Dig!”

  And that defence means Kenny’s generalist-disruption battle style works out just fine. It was a problem when he fought hard-attacking offense-speed teams like Hoshi’s – one-on-one, at least – but against anything that relied on tanking hits the man was able to grind through. He was actually kind of like Puce in that regard, though she was ironically a lot better at covering her team’s weaknesses. Not that-

  “Hey Boss, are we done now? Bubbles is gassed, man.”

  “Hm?” Hoshi snapped out of his head to see the battle had already concluded, Tyson’s sandshrew having fallen in a handful of seconds. “Oh, right. No, let’s give it… Hmm, one more round. You each get one Potion and a minute, use ‘em wisely.”

  Whining filled the air from both his subordinates, but the enforcer once again ignored them in favour of his own thoughts. It's endurance training, guys. Not resting is the point. Though I guess the concern is good to see…

  Yeah, Tyson had actually really shaped up over the past bit, especially once Hoshi’d demonstrated the light at the end of the tunnel – Mega Guts had impressed. And as for the others… Turning his head to take in the rest of the training Rockets, he saw they were the same; Grey and his houndoom – also evolved way later than it should have, though of course late was better than never – were the standout where improvement was concerned, but all six of his latest charges were now something approaching competent. If someone had asked him three weeks ago, Hoshi would have guessed that one or more of them would wash out… but nope. Even Kaede, who was still coughing and sneezing everywhere with her team full of pollen and smoke, had stepped up and shown a basic competence worthy of…

  …Okay, maybe not respect, but they should all be able to take out some League Pokémon given all the ways they were cheating out greater power. Only Spearmint’s actually managed to pull off Mega Evolution consistently, but I can say I've completed the objective; all six of them are somewhere between second and fourth badge in terms of fundamentals. And even stronger in reality, given that they were using veteran Pokémon.

  And of course it wasn't just the shit grunts that had improved. Ryan's taken Kenny's place as the guy waiting for his starter to evolve, but with him I can't say it's a lack of focus; his team is strong, and he knows what he's doing in battle too. Puce has clawed her way back to stability, Casca is developing something approaching a work ethic with her training, and I was just thinking about how Kenny's improved…

  A determined chirp drew his eyes to where his own Pokémon were attempting to tag each other in two groups of three, and Hoshi felt his lips curve. Yeah, he continued to reinforce as his eyes went from trainer to trainer. We can do this. We've got a good, solid shot.

  Tempting fate? Maybe. But he had never been the superstitious type, and he'd be damned if he started now.

  For a few more hours the enforcer supervised, cycling a few other grunts in and out to ensure nobody got too comfortable, and then it was time for another of the senior executives’ strategy meetings. Hoshi Mutsu left the makeshift battlefield tired and satisfied – and as he went, he felt the same emotion radiating from six of the seven Pokéballs on his belt.

  Hah. Just gotta rain on the parade, don't you Junior?

  As usual, the instructors started things off without much in the way of preamble. “We've got an exciting announcement today!” James projected to the gathered Rockets.

  “As you may or may not know,” Jessie took up, “The first round of the Champion Series has just recently concluded.”

  A few nods, and a few frowns – one of which was his. Hoshi had in fact not known that, as he'd solidly lost track of the date despite each ‘night’ providing a concrete sense of time, and the news was slightly disheartening. We're that late? Damn, we were supposed to-

  “And I know what you're all thinking,” James continued. “‘But Senior Executives, weren't we supposed to go on the offensive with the beginning of that storied tournament?’”

  “And we were – but unfortunately, some friction with the Mahogany wing of operations has necessitated that we aim, instead, for the much more reasonable deadline of..!”

  With a flourish Jessie bid – somehow – a previously-unseen roll of fabric to unfurl and reveal, in vibrantly-drawn letters, the title ‘Crashing the Nationals, Backup Plan Edition!’ Below the larger text was a more sober list of objectives, and as Hoshi read it became clear that things weren't much changed from what had been laid out at the end of October.

  Her partner made his own gesture. “The essence of the plan is the same: a large, powerful group will assault the bulk of the Indigo League's forces in Viridian Stadium, while a second, more covert taskforce relieves the actual headquarters of their paper documents – specifically, we're looking for the original ceasefire agreement that ended the war.”

  “Yes, with that one piece of paper mysteriously disappearing, things become oh so ambiguous.”

  James hummed. “Who can say what the agreement really said? Professor Oak?”

  “Sadly deceased!”

  “The Provincial Ministry?”

  “Soon to be exposed as literal devil-worshippers!”

  “The Champion?”

  At that Jessie simply laughed, and in his head Hoshi followed along – though with admittedly less enthusiasm. Heh. Yeah…

  The Champion is a champion before anything else. A protector, a martial authority – beating Clair in a battle is all we need to do to destroy her legitimacy. Not that defeating her would be easy, obviously, but it was by a wide margin the most simple step of the plan. If we could do it the right way, none of this would be necessary…

  But they couldn't, so they'd have to cheat and make up the difference through other means. Story of my life.

  The meeting continued, moving onto the nitty-gritty, and while Hoshi was engrossed there was a slight edge of disappointment to his mood as things wound down.

  Damn it, I really want to know what this big special weapon we have for dealing with the Inner Ministry is…

  But only the vaguest hints presented themselves; the fact that it was being imported from out west, that it was something else cooked up by Team Rocket’s scientists, the obvious conclusion that it needed to deal with psychics in particular…

  Ugh, put it aside. They're obviously keeping mum on purpose, and I don't feel like getting saddled with another punishment from speaking out of turn. But it really was frustrating; the actual muscle-and-bones of the plan had been laid out, and now the instructors were just hammering it in for the most obtuse of the gathering’s-

  “Sirs,” came a small but hard voice from behind his back, and Hoshi glanced away from the presentation to see Dabi striding into the room.

  “Professor?” James asked.

  “Is there an issue?”

  The short scientist nodded, frowning even harder than usual. “I'm afraid Sabrina's Gym Trainers have finally made it through Aiki's baffles; my instruments have detected a number of teleportations worryingly close to the-”

  A rumble went through the room, and before Hoshi could do more than blink the instructors had already released two Pokémon and gotten most of the way to the door.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Meeting adjourned!” James said, Malamar trailing him like a monstrous shadow.

  And of course Jessie was no less intimidating with her jellicent. “Everyone, prepare for combat!” Despite the abrupt shift, she was smiling – both of them were. “Engage at your own discretion!”

  “Ah, Meowth is going to be so disappointed he missed a raid…”

  Casca wasn't entirely sure what had happened. One second she'd been gamely enduring a round of Kenny's whining – he could be such a baby sometimes, honestly – and the next, snap, a good dozen people were just suddenly standing in the dorm room's centre.

  And then, without a word and before anyone could even think to react, they'd released three times their number in Pokémon and started attacking.

  “Candy, keep it up! You too Mam!”

  Now, with the room in disarray and a good number of her fellow grunts either asleep or straight-up defeated, Casca was still infuriatingly scant on details. Where Kenny had gotten to, whether they were winning or losing, how far away Hoshi and the rest of the high-ranked Rockets were – all of it was obscured by light and noise. The only thing she could be certain of was her own tiny slice of the larger battle, her starmie and cloyster facing off against a pair of mister mime and a humanoid fairy.

  She couldn't remember the latter's name – guard-something? – but it was hitting hard from behind the safety of the mimes’ layered screens. A combination of inherent defences and Protect was keeping her above water, but pretty soon Casca would need to either switch up her strategy or release more Pokémon and just accept the fact that she'd be burning through their stamina. Come on, move forward..! Look, I'm retreating! Wide open!

  Her mental urging did very little to affect reality; the island Pokémon advanced at a snail's pace, safe behind its screens, and continued to throw out lightning bolts and strength-sapping exclamations.

  Damn it, this sucks. She was really empathising with Hoshi’s hatred of defensive battles. Blah… I guess the ambush isn't gonna happen, time to cut my losses. So she opened her mouth – but as she drew breath to order Quake the dugtrio out of her hiding place under the concrete, an explosion interrupted.

  With a suddenness that mirrored how the enemies had appeared from thin air, the room was very quickly filled with smoke. “Ca-hack-Camouflage!” Casca yelled as she plucked a few more balls from her belt. More party crashers? Reinforcements?

  A second of uncertainty, and then it was revealed to be the latter: the smoke blew away to reveal a number of Rockets, both enforcers and executives, and their Pokémon immediately began hammering the Barrier-enclosed area now taking up a big chunk of where beds had once been.

  Tanya, Cliff, that super short guy – Carr, her subconscious provided, with two Rs – the instructors, Mokusen-

  And while she didn't see her man, there was proof of his presence: swooping down with intimidating speed came Crow the golbat, identifiable by her one undersized foot. In a heartbeat she'd arrived, and Casca turned as she passed to receive another surprise – the golbat had, in that split-second out of sight, managed to get inside the dense bunker walls of psychic energy.

  A Poison Fang ripped through the attacking fairy, and the trainer behind them grit her teeth. “Infiltrator! Thancred, switch to Psychic! Elfalt, Galatea, Helping Hand!”

  “Casca?!” Hoshi called, but no answer returned from the chaos. “Damn it…”

  She's fine. Casca isn't weak – and Crow will have found her by now. Focus on what's in front of you.

  His own thought drew forth a sharp smile. …Hah. Good advice to keep in mind, but easier said than done. Mostly because the amount of psychic power being thrown around was making his head pulse. “Damn it!” he repeated with greater volume, and then Hoshi waded in.

  “Guts, Crunch! Moony, Fake Tears! Use Feint Attack if anything gets close!”

  And it really was wading; it felt like every step dragged a bucketful of mud with it, uncountable Light Screens and Reflects bogging everything down. His heart beat frantically in his chest – too frantically, given how familiar he was becoming with shit like this – and rainbow nonsense forced his third eye to squint. Release more? No, not enough space. Ugh… Even beyond the base reality of the situation it was like he was up to his armpits in syrup, the sheer density of aura… stuff almost physical.

  My sense got a lot better after the breakthrough, more acute, but I guess I still can't look right into a flashbang without suffering…

  But there was a nice side effect. “Guts, behind!”

  She turned, trusting the order without hesitation, and exactly as he'd predicted the enemy kadabra Teleported in a fraction of a second later. Hah, Hoshi chuckled as Guts tore a hollow limb clean off with one bite. The mind reading’s a lot easier. Is this Psychic Terrain?

  Ten seconds passed as the mass battle continued, and though they were making progress a serious issue became increasingly apparent:

  They couldn't break the entrenched area the enemy had made of the room's centre. Ten, twenty… Somewhere in the neighbourhood of four-dozen Pokémon were maintaining the Barrier, and while the Rockets couldn't get in the Gym Trainers were perfectly capable of firing their attacks out. There's a biting move that breaks those, right? We have a few houndoom, maybe-

  “Clear out!” came a cry from across the cavernous room, and Hoshi dimly recognised the voice of that Dabi-sized executive. Wait, the guy with the- “Explosion incoming!”

  It took a handful of accelerated heartbeats for it to sink in – not only for Hoshi, but just about every other person in the room. Then the stampede started.

  Doctor Danielle Mokusen had been the first person in the history of Kanto to make a record of every native species capable of Mega Evolution.

  Not the first to discover the information, of course, but the first to collate it, test it, package it for the layman's consumption, and endeavour to see it distributed. And at the end of that long process, Dabi Mokusen’s mother received appropriate recognition. Funding, a dedicated space at Oak Labs, and for a time there were several Pokédex entries listing her as their primary source.

  But then Doctor Mokusen had turned her attentions to more mundane evolutions, and the results of that effort was…

  The professor's lip curled as Dan’s Earthquake, blunted by the enemy jynx’s defences but not anywhere near blocked, cracked the solid concrete floor hard enough to embed jagged splinters of artificial rock in the ceiling. The ice type’s thick outer membrane tore as it was crushed by the rising ground, its body beginning to deflate as it lost consciousness. Foolishness. Utter foolishness.

  If his mother's experiments had been allowed to continue, he had no doubt that the method of the Pokémon’s evolution would have been discovered – but no. ‘Inhumane,’ they crowed. ‘Cruel,’ ‘unbecoming of a scientist.’ And so Sinnoh is credited with electivire and magmortar and rhyperior, while we stagnate.

  But now wasn't the time to ruminate on history's cowardice, so he quickly strode towards the Gym Trainer nursing his fractured ankles. “You have one chance to surrender.”

  The fool stilled – and then with a muted pop of displaced air disappeared. Mokusen had enough time to blink at the strangeness of it – teleportation is rare, among the rarest of psychic expressions. How do they have so many-? – before he and his jynx were replaced by fresh combatants.

  None of the three newcomers expressed any discomfort on appearance, and in that Mokusen found an answer: they were not responsible for their own movement. There is a central figure, likely a kadabra or alakazam, coordinating this. Annoying… and yet, as his hand found his own kadabra’s ball, he found himself contemplating the opportunity more and more.

  Hmm. I suppose evolving him the natural way is a pipe dream at this point. So there was no reason not to at least attempt the more… active method. Two red flashes joined the eight from the enemy as Harry and Bernard appeared, the latter shaking his leaves at the disorderly battlefield.

  “Psychic and Seed Bomb, full-”

  “Clear out!”

  “Explosion incoming!”

  It took a second for the meaning behind the words to filter in through the haze of combat, but when it did Casca felt like she was about to crap out her spine. “Break off!” she called, but to her frustration Quake finished driving three too-slow Sucker Punch headbutts into the enemy before turning with an inquisitive growl. “Now!”

  A one-eighty pivot – and Casca immediately saw that the wasted second hadn't mattered. Even if she'd started moving before Carr spoke at all, the path to the exit would have been impassable.

  Only a fraction of people – one in ten, she distantly noted – were panicking, but that was enough; felt-clad bodies and roaring Pokémon clogged up each Rockets’ efforts, not at all helped by the translucent or transparent barriers popping up between blinks. Casca could only go a handful of steps before Quake passed her, the trainer's motion bogged down with the surrounding battles and panic and stuff.

  You know, a distant part of her noticed, I think there are more enemy trainers than there were a minute ago. They must still be teleporting in.

  Thanks brain, very useful. “Mam, Protect! Scuttlebutt, you too!”

  It was very nearly impossible to keep track of even the tiny area around her, now; her corphish came out only to be hit with something, a stone sun flashed into existence and was doused in exploding bubbles from nowhere – that was Candy, still camouflaged – and a Big Mam-shaped lack-of-cloyster was very suddenly obvious. Damn it. And where’s-

  Quake popped up as though summoned by the thought, then disappeared back into her ball – she would probably be fine underground, but Casca wasn't in a probably sort of mood right that second. “You too Candy – return!”

  The laser flashed out, and in its wake Casca had a tiny splinter of a moment to again wonder if she should release another Pokémon. Not much room with just one Protect. Squeegee and Cloud are both fresh, and the theoretical Explosion has gotta have, like, a dozen different screens between there and here…

  She waffled, her hand moving from one Rocket Ball to the next as Scuttlebutt’s shield passed over her. Crow did a loop over her head and then shot off towards some approaching threat – and then, suddenly, nausea. Casca squinted against the sudden sensation, then dropped.

  Confuse Ray, don’t move! But wait, wouldn't the Protect- huh?

  As her vision came back into focus, Casca could only blink – both in very natural confusion, and at the sudden blast of light. Am I..?

  She was. With the obscuring barrier of Protect already fading, Casca found herself outside.

  Surrounded by trainers.