The first thing William did as soon as he entered his room was fall face-first onto the couch. His eyes flickered, begging for sleep, but just as he was about to doze off, he was suddenly reminded of his Pokemon, injured in their pokeballs.
With one last push of energy, he forced himself to sit upwards, took some groggy steps across the room, and placed all of his Pokemon in the healing station.
Usually William would struggle getting to sleep, and when he got to sleep nightmares often plagued his dreams. He would often have Kirby sing him to sleep with her high pitched lullaby to help with that, but this time he crawled back to the couch, and fell asleep instantly.
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William woke up several hours later. He had been so tired that his nap had turned into an entire night's rest. He rubbed his tired eyes, wiping the exhaustion away. The room was quiet, accompanied by the occasional beeping and shaking of the healing station.
There was a knock on the door. William jumped up, searching for his mask.
"It's me. I'm on my own." It came from Shelly.
He immediately relaxed. "Come in," he said.
Shelly walked in, taking off the mask of her own William had given to her. It was a basic mask made to fit her head shape, designed with flowers and thorns, curling their way across the mask.
"How are you holding up?" she asked.
"Better now that I've had some sleep." William replied. His body still ached and his mind was still fatigued, but he didn't mention any of it.
Shelly fidgeted nervously, biting her bottom lip. "I just wondered…Was it all really a coincidence? I mean, I've been thinking about it, and some things just don't add up. I mean, I could be wrong, it's just…"
"You're spot-on," William responded. "But don't worry, I sorted everything out."
"Really?"
William nodded. "I saw you in that room before. You were trying to get everything under control, but no one was listening. Do you remember what I told you back then?"
She nodded back. "You said if I wanted something, I needed to take it with strength."
"Correct. I did say I will show you how to do it. This applies to the current situation as well. If you want to be respected, to be listened to, you need to show you have the strength to be respected and listened to. Otherwise, your voice will never be heard. You have a powerful team, you almost won the Conference League—I have no doubt you can beat everyone here. Well, aside from me, of course. The point is—you have the strength, now all you need to do is to show it. Got it?"
"Got it." Shelly responded, giving a thumbs up.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah…" Shelly said, her voice taking a slow and controlled manner. Like every word needed to be perfect. "My Pokemon told me how difficult the fight was—they were watching from the distance. How you almost died on multiple occasions, how you almost lost, how it was much closer than you made it out to be out there."
William stared sharply at her. "Is there a question in there?"
"Well, what I'm trying to ask is—are you okay? I mean, you almost died, William. My Pokemon told me about the meteors, the Aerodactyl, Lance's persistence. That's not something you should just…ignore. You should really get—"
"That will be all, Admin Ashe." William cut her off before she could continue. Shelly looked at him, sighed, put on her mask, and then walked out the room.
Now left alone to stew in silence, Shelly's question bounced in his mind.
Was he really okay? The events that had happened—not just today, but for the past year or so—everything had been going so fast, it was like he was living life pressing down the accelerator.
William had come close to crashing so many times. But he knew he had reached the point where he had been pressing the accelerator down so long he didn't know how to live without it pressing it, his body didn't know how to ease up on the control, and instead kept pressing down, going further and further, deeper and deeper.
William sighed, running a hand through his hair. Even with the equivalent of a full night's rest, the exhaustion was slowly seeping back into his bloodstream.
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment—but just then he heard something from the adjacent room.
It was Bond.
In the small room connecting to William's office was a narrow well of water which could be accessed by his Pokemon. This was how Bond returned from missions, rather than William needing to go outside the base and put him back in his Pokéball like he was fetching a child from daycare—which was very inefficient.
The door opened, and Bond walked in. He had grown so much from when he was just a Sobble. Now he was an assassin and advisor—his assassin and advisor.
Bond was much smarter than most Pokemon—a genetic mutation probably, the same way some Pokemon were much bigger than normal.
Even though they couldn't directly communicate, it was nice to converse with someone he could trust—someone he could bounce ideas and plans with. That was his part as William's advisor, so to speak. But he was also something else. He was also an assassin.
Given that the Pokemon was designed after 007 in the first place—Bond was the perfect assassin.
Particularly the move Snipe Shot, in which Bond could shoot water from his fingertip as though it were a bullet. It was perfect for killing people.
And that is what Bond had been doing for as long as he could remember.
Everything from people who could know or might know about his secret, anyone who could become a problem later on, and rival competitors—nothing was off the table. Bond had racked up an impressive list of bodies over the past year or so.
Just recently, William had given Bond his most daring mission yet: to assassinate Maxie, leader of Team Magma. And now he had just returned.
Bond knelt down on one knee.
"So was the mission successful? Did you successfully assassinate your target?" William asked, his voice betraying none of his nervousness.
In a moment, the world hung in a balance.
Bond took a short moment to compose himself—and shook his head.
Maxie was still alive.
It was then that the realisation came to William that assassinating a man like this wouldn't work. He was simply too smart and calculated. Too pragmatic and careful compared to most people. Too important with too many resources at his disposal. And if assassinating a target leader didn't work, then the only other option was to go to war.