The expansion of the camp was heavy work, but the North didn't offer contractors.
The new tent Enzo had bought from Viper was a beast—reinforced canvas, heavy poles, built to withstand sandstorms and rockslides. It had three partitions for humans and a designated stable area for the team.
Enzo hammered a stake into the hard ground. Proton was tightening the guy lines.
Ronnie was… mostly vibrating with energy, carrying boxes that didn't need to be carried, and talking.
"Hey, Boss!" Ronnie shouted, dropping a crate of supplies near the entrance. "Where do you want the thermal gear?"
Enzo pointed to the left without looking up. "Left partition."
Ronnie saluted. "On it, Boss!"
Then he spun around and nearly collided with Proton.
"Oh, sorry, Captain!" Ronnie grinned, his scarred face twisting into an expression that would have terrified a normal person. "Just moving through!"
Proton paused, holding a rope. He frowned, looking at the green-haired boy.
"Why do you keep calling me 'Captain'?" Proton asked, genuinely confused.
Ronnie stopped. He looked at Proton like the answer was obvious physics.
"Well," Ronnie said, puffing out his chest. "Enzo is the Boss. You've been here longer, so you're the Captain."
He hooked a thumb at himself, beaming.
"And that makes me the Vice-Captain."
Proton blinked.
It was the most shameless piece of self-promotion he had ever heard. The guy had been a grunt yesterday, a prisoner this morning, and by lunch, he had appointed himself third-in-command of an elite squad.
Enzo, hammering the last stake, stopped.
A laugh escaped him—short and genuine.
Proton looked at Enzo, then back at Ronnie's eager, terrifying face. He shook his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Vice-Captain, huh?" Proton muttered, tightening the rope. "Fine. Just don't trip over the supplies, Vice-Captain."
Ronnie pumped his fist like he'd just won the lottery.
By mid-afternoon, the camp was established.
Proton took Ronnie and the massive Onix to the lower plateau to teach them the basics of not dying. Enzo's own Pokémon were running their drills independently—Corvisquire cutting lines in the sky, Sandile practicing bite pressure on rocks, Gastly bullying Sandile.
Enzo sat inside the main tent, surrounded by bowls of crushed berries and binder powder.
Making Pokéblocks was mechanical work. It let his mind wander.
Or, in this case, focus.
He cleaned his hands and touched his temple.
Porygon2, he sent the thought. Secure line. Call Nero.
Inside the TR Device on the table, the screen flickered. Code scrolled. Encryption locks engaged.
Connecting…
The screen went black, then audio crackled through.
"Report."
The voice was smooth, calm, and dangerous.
Enzo didn't flinch. "Executive Nero. How can I help?"
There was a pause on the other end. A sound of ice clinking in a glass.
"I hear your squad is fully formed," Nero said. His tone was light, but the underlying edge was sharp. "Viper tells me you picked up… a peculiar element. A recycled grunt?"
Enzo didn't hesitate. He knew Nero would be watching.
"I believe in his potential," Enzo lied smoothly. Then he added the truth that mattered. "And more than anything, he has something that many 'Elites' lack."
"Oh?"
"Absolute loyalty," Enzo said.
Nero hummed—a sound of approval. In Team Rocket, skill could be bought. Loyalty was the rarest currency.
"Fair enough," Nero said. "I trust your judgment."
The tone shifted. Business.
"I have a proposal for you, Enzo."
Enzo waited.
"You have until Day 100," Nero said, his voice dropping an octave. "I want you to eliminate every single follower of Ariana and Archer remaining on the island."
Enzo's eyes narrowed. A purge.
"I'm sending you a list," Nero continued. "Names. Last known locations. Faction affiliations."
Then came the hook.
"If you succeed… I have a Special Pokémon waiting for you in the reserves."
Enzo went still.
A Pokémon hand-picked by a top Executive? That wasn't a starter. That was a weapon of mass destruction.
"I accept," Enzo said instantly. "I'll update you as they drop."
"Good hunting."
Click.
The line went dead.
Enzo stared at the black screen. Then he looked at the list Porygon2 was already decoding. Dozens of names.
He smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
"Sorry, everyone," he whispered to the empty tent. "But you're all going to die."
Later that afternoon, Ronnie came bouncing back to the tent.
"Boss! Captain says my form is getting better!" Ronnie shouted. "Can I go hunt? Like, for real? I need to catch something that flies. Onix is great, but he's… slow."
Enzo looked at him. Ronnie was eager, but eagerness got people killed in the North.
But you couldn't train a dog by keeping it on a leash forever.
"Go," Enzo said.
Ronnie cheered.
"But," Enzo added, pointing a finger. "Stay within the perimeter of the red canyon. Don't go into the deep tunnels."
"Roger that, Boss!"
Ronnie ran off, Onix rumbling behind him.
Enzo watched him go, then glanced up at the sky.
Corvisquire, he projected mentally.
A shadow detached itself from the cliff edge.
Follow him from the clouds, Enzo ordered. Ensure he doesn't die. But don't interfere unless it's critical.
Corvisquire gave a sharp cry of acknowledgment and vanished into the high-altitude haze.
Dinner time.
The sun was setting, painting the rocks in deep, bloody crimson. Enzo and Proton were by the fire, stirring a pot of rehydrated stew.
It was quiet.
Until it wasn't.
"YEEEEEEAAAAAAH!"
The scream didn't sound like pain. It didn't sound like fear.
It sounded like pure, unadulterated adrenaline.
Enzo and Proton looked up.
A blur cut through the twilight sky.
A Fearow was diving toward the camp at breakneck speed.
And clinging to its back, looking like a green-haired tick on a missile, was Ronnie.
"INCOMING!" Ronnie screamed.
The bird flared its wings, trying to shake him off, and crashed—literally crashed—into the dust just outside the firelight.
Dust billowed everywhere.
Ronnie rolled off, stood up, dusted himself off, and threw his arms wide.
"BOSS! CAPTAIN!" he yelled, pointing at the dazed bird on the ground. "LOOK AT THIS BEAUTY!"
Enzo and Proton looked.
The Fearow shook its head and squawked.
It was… hideous.
Its beak was crooked, bent slightly to the left. It was missing patches of feathers on its neck, giving it a mange-like appearance. One eye was slightly larger than the other, giving it a permanent, crazy, cross-eyed glare.
It was the ugliest bird Enzo had ever seen.
It matched Ronnie perfectly.
Proton bit the inside of his cheek, turning away to cough so he wouldn't laugh out loud. Enzo had to cover his mouth with his hand, feigning deep contemplation.
Calling that thing a "beauty" was a crime against aesthetics.
"It's… distinctive," Proton managed to choke out.
Ronnie recalled the bird into a Poké Ball and ran over, handing it to Enzo with shaking hands.
[ SYSTEM SCAN — NEW CAPTURE ]
Specimen: FEAROW
Level: 21
Potential: LIGHT GREEN
Ability: Keen Eye
Typing: Normal / Flying
Moves Detected:
— Peck (Flying)
— Fury Attack (Normal)
— Leer (Normal)
— Pursuit (Dark)
Obs: "Aesthetics: questionable. Aggression index: high. Flight confidence: excessive."
Enzo selected:
YES.
[ VIRUS TRANSMISSION: CONFIRMED ]
[ INJECTING… ]
[ INJECTION COMPLETE ]
Status: VIRUS ACTIVE
Then the second window appeared—clean and wrong in how useful it was.
[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
Bond Transfer option detected.
Do you wish to transfer your Bond imprint to an ally?
YES / NO
Enzo didn't hesitate.
YES.
A subtle tightening in the air. A thread shifting ownership.
[ PROCESSING… ]
[ BOND IMPRINT: TRANSFER INITIATED ]
[ … 100% ]
[ TRANSFER COMPLETE ]
[ SYSTEM SCAN]
Specimen: FEAROW
Level: 21
Potential: GREEN
Ability: Keen Eye
Typing: Normal / Flying
Moves Detected:
— Peck (Flying)
— Fury Attack (Normal)
— Leer (Normal)
— Pursuit (Dark)
Obs: "Aesthetics: questionable. Aggression index: high. Flight confidence: excessive."
Bond Indicator: "Ally imprint established. Primary loyalty redirected."
Enzo handed the ball back to Ronnie.
Enzo suppressed a smile at the observation.
He turned back and handed the ball to Ronnie.
Enzo confirmed. "It's a solid fighter. Good work… Vice-Captain."
Ronnie stood there, holding the ball. His face scrunched up. His lip quivered. The terrifying scar twisted as he tried desperately not to cry in front of his idols.
"Thank you, Boss," he squeaked.
Enzo waited until they were eating. The fire crackled, casting long shadows against the tent.
"Listen up," Enzo said. The tone dropped the casual vibe instantly.
Proton stopped chewing. Ronnie sat up straighter.
"I received a mission from the top," Enzo said. "It can help me immensely in the future. The reward is significant."
He looked at them.
"But the deadline is short, and the targets are dangerous. I can do it alone… but it would be cleaner with help."
He paused, letting the weight settle.
"The choice is yours."
Ronnie didn't even blink. He slammed his bowl down, stood up, and saluted so hard he nearly hit himself in the face.
"Boss," Ronnie said, dead serious. "If you tell me you aren't taking me, I will throw myself off that cliff right now."
Enzo let out a short laugh. "Okay. Sit down."
He looked at Proton.
Proton leaned back, picking his teeth with a splinter of wood. He looked relaxed, almost bored, but his eyes were sharp.
"Come on," Proton said. "Don't waste time with the obvious stuff."
He tossed the wood into the fire.
"Who are the targets?"
Enzo pulled out his TR Device and tapped the screen. The hologram projected a list of names and faces into the smoky air.
"Ariana's faction. Archer's faction."
Enzo's eyes reflected the blue light of the list.
"All of them."