How?! How had this happened? As Lance races through the Pokemon League's entrance hall, he sees one of his guards watching him with a grimace on his face. He doesn't dare make eye contact with the man, however. How can he, at this point? It's too shameful. He's a disgrace.

Still, it didn't make any sense! Technically, the Pokemon League was set up in such a way that anyone could challenge the Elite Four and the Pokemon Champion. So long as you had your Official Pokemon License, you were allowed to go around collecting Kanto's Gym Badges, and ultimately once you had all eight, there was nothing stopping you from going to Victory Road.

But that was just it. The Pokemon Champion ran the entirety of the Kanto Region. They were the head of government, and the Elite Four were their advisors. All policy, all decision making… it went through them. Naturally, one would say that because ANYONE could become Pokemon Champion, things were as fair as they possibly could be. A true meritocracy.

Except Lance hadn't fucking conquered this backwater shithole as a Johto General eighteen years ago, just to get his position usurped by some Kanto hick who just happened to luck into some powerful Pokemon. No, there were systems in place. Any time a Gym had to give up one of their badges, they also had to report it to the League for recording keeping purposes. As such, every Pokemon Trainer who had a Gym Badge was kept on a list, with those who eventually made it all the way to six, seven, and finally eight badges making it onto an even shorter list.

A list that was carefully checked, a list that was cultivated in the extreme. If anyone who managed to get all eight badges looked like they might actually have a shot at beating Lance, well… Victory Road was quite treacherous. All sorts of things could happen there. And of course, if someone looked like they would put up a fair fight, but Lance could wipe the floor with them, well they were let right on through.

Despite there being hundreds if not thousands of Pokemon Trainers with licenses at any given time, the system in place meant Lance had to deal with maybe one true challenger a year at most, and sometimes not even that. A handful would make it to the Elite Four, but most of them couldn't even get past Lorelei, let alone Bruno and Agatha.

All that said… how the FUCK had some snot-nosed brat with a Blastoise managed to slip through the net? For all intents and purposes, it didn't make any fucking SENSE! Lance could hardly believe his eyes when the kid had first shown up in his room, having mowed through the rest of the Elite Four before him. He had actually laughed a little… until he and the boy, a kid named Blue, had started battling. Lance… Lance had put up a helluva fight. It wasn't some clean sweep or anything like that.

But that was just it. There shouldn't have BEEN a fight. The kid never should have made it that far in the first place! After losing, and boy did that still fucking smart, Lance had looked it up… the brat had literally been an official Pokemon Trainer for a few months! And now… now he was the head of the fucking government for all of Kanto!

But there was one thing that had really turned Lance's head around. The kid hadn't given a last name, back when they'd fought. He was just 'Blue'. But when Lance looked up his records, then he got an idea of what was apparently going on. Blue Oak. Blue… motherfucking… Oak!

Snarling, Lance races out the front doors of the Pokemon League, damn near bowling someone over as he does so.

"Out of my damn way!"

He gets a few more steps before coming up short, however, his mind suddenly registering who he just saw. Or rather, who he thought he saw.

"Giovanni?!"

Whipping back around, Lance stares in disbelief, completely flabbergasted as to why one of his greater enemies would suddenly show up at his front step. But… no. While the suit definitely reminds him of one of Giovanni's suits, and so does the swept back hair, pulled tight against the man's head… this is not Giovanni. Too young, for one. And for another, the hair is magenta, rather than black.

Stomping closer, Lance narrows his eyes as the young man stares right back at him, surprisingly impassive and seemingly unconcerned at facing down the strongest Dragon Type Trainer in all of Kanto.

"No… you're not Giovanni. But you ARE one of his thugs, aren't you? Does he know you're wearing his suit, boy?"

Unhesitating, the young man responds.

"Yes."

Completely unphased and unafraid. Oh, this little fucker thought he was a big dog, didn't he? Hmph, what, was he Giovanni's love child or something? Was that why his daddy let him wear a suit instead of one of those silly white or black uniforms?

"Fucking criminals, I swear to Arceus. What're you even doing here? Bout to go and steal some exotic Pokemon from the trainers on Victory Road, huh? You a dangerous sort? I know Giovanni's Rockets have never had anyone capable of handling the types who make it to Victory Road. What, are you supposed to be Giovanni's secret weapon, or something?"

Lance doesn't bother waiting for a response, he just laughs at his own joke and runs a hand through his spiked hair.

"What a fucking joke. And decidedly not MY problem anymore, now, is it? Feel free to go running to your Boss to tell him the good news! The Pokemon League has a new fucking Champion! Two decades of leadership, gone in a fucking instant… all because I lost to some snot-nosed brat!"

Just saying it out loud is therapeutic, but also rage-inducing all over again. Fuck, he'd lost to a damn kid! What would his grandfather think?! What would Johto think?! Fuck all of this!

"It's positively absurd. And-!"

He'd just so happened to catch a glimpse of Giovanni's lookalike as he was ranting. Whipping back around, Lance narrows his eyes. In truth, the young man's face hasn't actually changed, necessarily. He's as emotionless and expressionless as ever. Except… no, Lance isn't imagining it. There's a hint of pride there in those eyes. And a note of smugness in the ever so slight upturning of the young man's lips.

"Are you fucking smirking at me? Don't think this means Team Rocket wins! You fucking delusional delinquents are good for nothing but LOSING, do you fucking hear me?! You were simple enough fodder for my plans. And just because I'm no longer League Champion, doesn't mean I'm not still part of the fucking Elite Four!"

Far from being cowed as Lance gets back in his face, the young man reaches down and palms a Pokeball. He doesn't use it… but the threat is clear. Lance, seeing this, throws his head back and lets out a loud bray of laughter.

"Hah! I thought today was bad enough… but now some idiot in a suit thinks he has a chance against me, just because I suffered one defeat! Well, think again Rocket Brat! I'll fucking put you in your place right here, right fucking now!"

Taking a few steps back, Lance grins ferally. He doesn't know who this pink-haired Rocket punk thinks he is, but he knows one thing for shit-sure… the fucker is going to make for GREAT stress relief.

"Go, Gyarados!"

"Go, Raticate."

As Lance's first Pokemon unfurls out of its ball behind him, looming over the field outside of the Pokemon League's entrance building, he stares blankly at the Pokemon that the Rocket threw out in response. Slowly, he blinks, as if that will somehow change what he's looking at. Finally, he's forced to accept that this… this is real.

"… Bahahahaha! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! A FUCKING RATICATE?! YOU-!"

"Raticate, use Hyper Fang."

Lance wasn't the Pokemon Champion for eighteen years for nothing. Not to mention his time as a soldier before that. He's not going to get caught with his pants down.

"Gyarados, dodge and drown this fucking rat with Hydro Pump!"

Letting out a roar, both Pokemon move at almost the same time. Except… except, one wouldn't know it from looking at it. The mystery brat's Raticate is blinding fast, and just as Gyarados' Hydro Pump is bubbling up in its throat… the rat's glowing fangs sink into his Pokemon's neck before ripping straight on through, unleashing a torrent of blood as Gyarados lets out a gurgling cry.

Eyes widening, Lance quickly recalls the dying Pokemon to his Pokeball to staunch the bleeding and put him in stasis. Then, he hardens himself.

"Dragonair! Dragon Pulse!"

"Raticate, Hyper Fang."

A throbbing vein appears in Lance's forehead, as the second of his Pokemon goes down much the same way as the first. With an incoherent roar, he throws out his Kingdra next, not that it goes any better. The pink-haired Rocket's Raticate is… a monster. The kind of thing you only hear tall tales about. Rattata and their evolved form Raticate… they were fucking vermin. Literal pests. It was why an organization like Team Rocket could get their hands on so many of them.

But everyone knew they were dog shit in any serious Pokemon Battle. No one actually spent the amount of time it would take to actually TRAIN a Raticate into the sort of monster that could take down Dragon Type Pokemon in one move. No one… except for this fucking kid, apparently.

After Lance's Kingdra, Aerodactyl is next, taken out too fast for Lance to even react. But on his final Pokemon, Lance has had enough. He throws his Pokeball not forward… but UP, as high as he can.

"Go, Dragonite! Stay high!"

As Lance's trusted Dragonite explodes out of its Pokeball and flies a good hundred feet above them, Lance has a mocking half-sneer, half-grin on his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at his opponent.

"You're a one trick pony, brat. I'm sure you and your Raticate have been causing trouble all over Kanto. Bet if I checked the Bounty Board, I'd find you at the top, wouldn't I? But you're not dealing with my Police Officers anymore. You're dealing with ME! Your little Raticate can't reach my Dragonite with his Hyper Fang all the way down here, now, can he?! Time to end this farce! Dragonite, use HYPER BEAM!"

"Raticate, use Hyper Beam."

It takes a moment, and then Lance's eyes widen.

"WHAT THE FU-?!"

The end of his sentence is drowned out as the two Pokemon both unleash their Hyper Beams at the same time. His Dragonite, his most trusted companion, the Pokemon that's been with him since he was a child, doesn't hesitate to unleash the blinding fury of the energy-based move upon his foe. But then… neither does the Raticate. And to Lance's shock and horror… Raticate's Hyper Beam is bigger.

The former Pokemon Champion chokes on his own spit as he watches a fucking RATICATE overpower his Dragonite's Hyper Beam, only one of the two attacks actually reaching its intended target. There's a blood-curdling screech from his most beloved Pokemon, and then a meaty thump. When the dust settles, Lance can only tremble in horror at the sight of his Dragonite, on the ground, missing one entire wing, cauterized by the Hyper Beam.

As he collapses forward to his knees, Lance calls his maimed Dragonite back to its ball. Even this injury can be healed if he gets to a Pokemon Center fast enough. The question is… will this pair of monsters before him let him leave? Or is this where he dies?

It seems it might be, as the suited young man stalks forward until he towers over Lance's kneeling form.

"Who… no, WHAT are you?"

The Rocket doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he leans down… and takes one of Lance's Pokeballs, causing the former Pokemon Champion's eyes to widen in anguish and fury. It's not his Dragonite, thankfully… but it's nearly as bad. As the thief tucks his Aerodactyl's ball away in his suit, Lance shakes with anger and agony.

"Giovanni is gone. I lead Team Rocket now."

The young man speaks in a toneless, dead voice, even as Lance's eyes widen and he looks up into that stoic, expressionless face. There's no way… except, somehow, he can tell the Rocket isn't lying. This, in front of him… is the new leader of Team Rocket. And he'd just destroyed Lance without breaking a sweat.

"You…"

But the Rocket's new, enigmatic leader turns and just walks inside, leaving Lance behind before he can say another word. Just like that, he's all but forgotten. Just like that, he's not worth the Rocket Boss' time. He still doesn't even know the guy's name!

Lance's mouth opens and closes in abject shock for a few moments, trying and failing to properly process what just happened. He'd had it all planned out, too. From the very beginning, all of it was a ruse. Team Rocket were convenient patsies for him to put all of Kanto's problems on until he was ready to be done away with them.

Even the whole bounty system and his proclamation that he was going to reform and redeem Kanto's criminals… it had all been an act. From the very beginning, Lance's anti-crime laws did absolutely nothing to stop Team Rocket's evil antics. And they were never supposed to. Rather, they were designed with one and only one purpose in mind… forcing Team Rocket's hand, making them escalate.

It was all leading up to one big moment, or it was supposed to have anyways. All Lance needed was for Team Rocket to really shit the bed. To cause a real public spectacle. Knocking over some TM Collector's house wasn't it. No, he needed something bigger.

And when the Silph Co. Incident came along, he really thought he'd had it. Team Rocket had DRAMATICALLY overstepped, taking an entire city hostage, and locking down the building of one of Kanto's beloved, homegrown corporations. Their attack on Silph Co., while understandable when one knew about the existence of the Master Ball, was exactly what Lance had been waiting for.

It had unequivocally and irrevocably made Team Rocket the Bad Guys, and it would have been quite the feather in Lance's cap if he rushed in with his soldiers and put Team Rocket down once and for all. They were overly committed, and he had been ready to destroy them, to tear them out at the root after eighteen long years of playing knife games in the dark.

… Except, it hadn't worked out that way. Someone else had gotten there first, a young woman according to the Silph Co. President. She'd torn through the Rockets like nothing, beaten Giovanni like he was little more than a naughty boy with his hand stuck in the cookie jar, and forced them all to scurry back into hiding, just like that.

And just like that, Lance had been stymied, completely by chance. Sure, he knew exactly where Team Rocket could be found, he knew all about their hiding places. He even knew that Giovanni was the elusive and 'secretive' Viridian City Gym Leader. As if he wouldn't fucking know all that, he was the fucking Pokemon Champion for fuck's sake!

But none of it mattered if he couldn't take them all down at the same fucking time. And now… it seemed he would never get the chance to see the shocked, dismayed look on Giovanni's face when Lance showed up on the back of his Dragonite and arrested the bastard for his crimes.

… With a sudden jolt, Lance rushes to his feet. Fuck, he can't just stay here! He needs to get to a Pokemon Center and get his team healed! Without his Aerodactyl, his fighting potential is lowered… but there's no other choice.

Still, as he rushes off, a cold fury ignites in Lance's heart. If these Kanto fucks want a war so badly… he'll give them a fucking war…

So caught up in his own bullshit, he completely misses two more Rockets running past him in actual uniforms.

"Wait, is that-?"

"No time, Jamie! Cam is already up ahead, we've gotta catch up with him!"

-x-X-x-

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