The rain had turned the forest path into a sucking river of mud.
Faith looked miserable, picking her way with disgust around every puddle. Ellen slogged along, her Pikachu clinging to her shoulder. Robert, shivering even in his uniform, marched ahead with.
Rein moved carelessly, barely seeming to notice the mud. He'd been silent, his eyes scanning the darkening woods. Now, he stopped, holding up a hand.
"Hold up."
The others stumbled to a halt. Rein was looking at a high, chain-link fence that appeared out of the gloom. It was topped with rusted barbed wire. A faded, barely legible sign hung from it:
TALROC CITY PUBLIC WORKS - VEHICLE DEPOT 4 - DECOMMISSIONED.
His hand went to his belt, and a flash of light materialized his Magmortar.
"Magmortar. Make us a door."
Magmortar leveled an arm. A searing, concentrated jet of flame shot from its cannon, melting the metal in a line from the top of the fence down to the ground. With a final shove from Magmortar's other hand, the cut section of fence fell inward with a metallic clang.
Beyond the fence sat rows of decaying machinery: bulldozers with flat tires, dump trucks sinking into the earth, and, parked under a sagging, open-sided shelter, a line of heavy-duty quad bikes and a single, rust-streaked but intact-looking all-terrain vehicle with six massive tires.
"Jackpot." Rein breathed, already striding towards the ATV.
Ellen stared, wide-eyed.
"We can't just steal—"
"We're chasing a terrorist organization that just kidnapped someone." Faith cut in, her voice flat as she adjusted her rain-spattered glasses. "Property laws are a secondary consideration. That vehicle appears to have the highest probability of traversing this terrain efficiently."
Robert just hurried towards the shelter, seeking a respite from the rain.
"Just get in, will you? The longer we stand here, the colder I get!"
Rein was already at the ATV, yanking open the driver's side door. The interior was a mess of cobwebs and old leaves, but the keys were, miraculously, still in the ignition. He turned them. The engine coughed, sputtered, then roared to life with a surprisingly healthy growl.
"Get in!" Rein commanded, not looking back.
They piled in—Rein at the wheel, Ellen taking the front passenger seat, Faith and a still-shivering Robert squeezing into the back. Magmortar recalled to its ball. The ATV's headlights cut twin swaths through the pelting rain.
Rein slammed the vehicle into gear, and it lurched forward, its giant tires chewing through the mud and flattening the fallen fence as they plowed out of the depot and back onto the rough forest track.
The ATV had no suspension to speak of, jolting and bucking over every root and rock. Rain lashed the windshield, the wipers fighting a losing battle. But they were moving, and fast.
Ellen leaned forward, shouting over the engine and the storm.
"Robert! Which way? You said you knew where the base was!"
"East! Keep going east! But... not on any main road. They have lookouts on the roads. We have to go through the mountains. The Wanecress Pass."
Rein's eyes flicked to the dusty GPS screen mounted on the dash. He saw the snaking line of the main highway far to the south, and the treacherous, dotted line of an old mining trail cutting through the Wanecress Mountains.
"A mountain pass. In this." Rein muttered, his grin returning, edged with a wild challenge. "Perfect."
He spun the wheel, and the ATV veered off the fading forest track, aiming for the dark, towering shapes of the mountains now visible through the rain-lashed trees.
***
Rain hammered the rooftop of the warehouse.
Anne stood in front of the warehouse. Beside her, Alpha Scraggy stood, rain dripping off its head.
"Where is he?" Anne hissed into the storm, her eyes scanning the sky.
A low growl from Alpha Scraggy was her only answer.
Then, a shape tore through the clouds. A Charizard beating its wings against the gale. On its back, hunched against the weather, was a figure in white and green of a Team Xycle uniform.
Charizard descended at the last moment to land on the ground with a heavy thud that shook the concrete. The rider slid off, and Anne got her first good look at Elite Operative Makarell.
He was tall and lanky, his posture slumped with an air of exhaustion. His porcelain hair was a wild, rain-plastered mess that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in weeks, falling over eyes ringed with dark circles. He looked like he'd just been pulled out of a grave.
He blinked slowly at her, then at the fiercely glowering Alpha Scraggy.
"You're Anne." He stated, his voice a dry, quiet rasp. "I'm Makarell. Sarah said you need a ride east. My Charizard is fast. But he doesn't like the rain. Or passengers. Or... most things, really."
Anne didn't have time for his lethargy.
"We need to go. Now. They have Elias."
Makarell let out a long, weary sigh that seemed to deflate him further.
"Right. The kidnapped kid." He rubbed his eyes. "Okay. Climb on. Try not to fall off. He bucks."
He hauled himself back onto Charizard's neck, settling into a worn-looking harness. Anne scrambled up behind him, finding precarious holds on straps and scales. Alpha Scraggy, after a moment's hesitation, was hauled up by Anne and settled its bulk behind her, its claws digging in for a grip that made Charzilla growl in protest.
"Hold on." Makarell mumbled, not sounding very convinced himself.
He gave a soft click of his tongue. Charizard, with a final, disgusted snort at the weather, bunched its powerful leg muscles and launched itself skyward.
The ascent was a violent, gut-wrenching spiral. The world dropped away in a dizzying whirl of grey rooftops and streaking rain. Wind screamed past them, tearing at Anne's clothes and stealing her breath. She clung to Makarell's vest, her knuckles white. Alpha Scraggy locked its arms around her waist.
They broke through the cloud layer into a sudden, shocking stillness. The storm raged below them, a churning sea of grey and black, but up here the air was cold and thin, and a sliver of moon cast a weak light on the cloud tops.
Makarell tapped the screen of a bulky, modified device strapped to his wrist. A holographic map flickered to life, projected faintly against Charizard's neck. A green dot pulsed steadily far to the east.
"Got your bird's signal." Makarell said, his voice quiet but clearer in the thin air. "We'll make it there in... twenty-three minutes."
***
Eastern Sector of Team Xycle... In the Twin Cavein Mountains...
The rain battering the mountains was a distant, irrelevant whisper here.
Inside the Twin Cavein Mountains, the air was thick with perfume, sweat, and the dizzying thrum of bass. Crystal chandeliers cast a shimmering light over a sea of dancers. The clientele was a mix of Xycle's Eastern Sector operatives in their off-duty finest and wealthy, thrill-seeking civilians from nearby cities who thought this was just an exclusive, avant-garde nightclub built into a mountain.
And at the center of the vortex, was the man himself.
John Wellingham, one of the Four Commanders of Team Xycle, was not asleep. He was a force of nature in a tailored emerald green velvet suit, his purple, curly hair, shining in the light. He moved through the crowd with grace, a glass of something amber and expensive in one hand, the other gesturing broadly as he gathered a captivated circle with a story of his.
Then, a discreet, insistent vibration buzzed against his wrist, beneath his diamond-crusted cufflink.
John's smile didn't falter, but his eyes flickered down for a nanosecond. The Rotom-Comm Link integrated into his vintage-looking watch glowed with a specific, urgent pulse. Sarah.
He excused himself from his admirers with apologetic bow, and melted into the crowd, heading for a paneled door disguised as part of the bookcase-lined wall.
The moment the door sealed behind him, the roar of the club vanished, replaced by the quiet hum of a command center. The room was sleek, dark, and lined with monitoring equipment. He tapped his watch. Sarah's holographic face materialized, her expression as sharp as ever.
"John." Her voice was clipped, devoid of greeting.
"Hey missy! To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Shut it, John. Coming from the boss... effective immediately, is the full mobilization of Eastern Sector."
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. We're on a party, man! Tell the boss to chill out and relax. I'll send someone to entertain him."
Sarah's holographic face didn't twitch, but her eyes narrowed into slits of cold steel.
"Commander Wellingham, this is not a request. This is a direct order from Boss Martin. Team Rocket has established a mountain facility within your sector's operational range. They have abducted Elite Operative Elias."
"Elias? Who's that? Oh, right yeah, I remember. That kid who won the tournament."
"Coordinates are being uploaded to your system now."
A topographical map flickered to life on a screen beside Sarah's face, highlighting a peak several miles to the northeast.
"It's in the adjacent mountain. The one the locals call the 'Mala's Spine.' Your scouts have likely overlooked it due to advanced seismic dampening and optical camouflage. Rocket is digging in next door, John."
"Sneaky bastards. Using my mountains as a shield. I'll peel their base open like a tin can."
"Your mission is to extract Elias safely, after that... you can do whatever you want with Team Rocket. We expect a successful mission, John."
"Yeah, sure. I got this!"
He severed the connection. The silence of the command center was now charged with a different energy. He didn't return to the party floor. He activated the sector-wide comm, his voice echoing through every corridor, hangar, and barracks within the Twin Cavein Mountains, smooth and deadly serious
"All personnel, this is Commander Wellingham. I repeat, this is Commander Wellingham. We're going to party outside, baby!"
Then, he grabbed another communication device.
"Hey, Viktor. Ready the airship."
***
The storm finally stopped.
Caesar stood in a small clearing, the scent of wet pine thick in the air. Rainwater dripped from the leaves, tapping a steady rhythm on his shoulders. His usually immaculate clothes were soaked through, plastered to his skin, and streaked with mud from the rough landing.
Noivern lay nearby, its massive wings folded, sides heaving as it caught its breath. The attack from Ariana's Honchkrow had rattled it badly, and the frantic chase through the storm had drained it. Perched precariously on Noivern's head was Elias's Staravia. It was preening a ruffled wing, its sharp eyes constantly scanning the treeline, letting out an occasional low chirp.
Caesar pulled his communicator from his belt—a sleek, silver device meant for secure, encrypted channels. He thumbed the activation switch, but nothing happened. He pressed it again, harder. A faint, sickly green light flickered in its core, then died. Water beaded on its surface, seeping into the seams.
A frustrated curse escaped his lips. He was the Champion of the Adele Region, and he was standing in a dripping forest with a malfunctioning toy, while a boy with his brother's eyes was being taken deeper into the mountains.
He looked east, towards the clouded sky. A mountain stood out, darker and more jagged than the rest.
The Mala's Spine.
Where the helicopter had vanished.
He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and lowered his head. He couldn't call for League reinforcements. He couldn't coordinate a rescue. He was alone, with an exhausted pokemon.
Caesar knelt, the cold mud soaking into the knees of his ruined suit. He placed a trembling hand on Noivern's neck, but he wasn't feeling the dragon's fatigue. He was falling into a memory, sharp and clear as broken glass.
He was standing in a white room lined with humming servers and holoscreens displaying complex genetic sequences. The air crackled with tension thicker than the storm outside.
Across the room, near a sealed vault door, stood Martin. Not as the sharp-suited commander of Xycle, but younger, his eyes blazing with a terrifying light. In one hand, he held a suitcase.
"You're too late, Monarch." Martin's voice echoed. "The future is close, and I have a plan for the present."
Martin smirked. A cold, dismissive thing. He'd taken a step back towards the exit.
"Stop him!" Caesar yelled, his voice cracking with urgency.
He felt the surge of his own hand reaching for a pokeball. But a hand shot out from beside him. And after that, everything is filled with fire.
Caesar slammed a fist into the trunk of a nearby pine, the bark biting into his knuckles.
"Just you wait, Elias. I'm coming."