Consciousness returned slowly.
Adrian became aware of the cold beneath his back before he opened his eyes.
The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and polished steel, while distant voices echoed somewhere beyond the walls.
His head throbbed, though not painfully enough to stop him from sitting up.
The room was simple.
A narrow bed occupied one corner, its gray blanket folded with military precision.
Beside it stood a metal locker, a desk, and a small sink built into the wall.
There were no windows, only a single reinforced door with a digital keypad mounted beside it.
Someone had changed his clothes.
The worn jacket he’d arrived in was gone, replaced by a fitted black uniform with a crimson “R” stitched discreetly onto the shoulder.
Heavy boots rested neatly beside the bed, already polished.
Adrian let out a quiet breath.
So it was real.
Three years of searching, planning, and gambling everything on rumors had led him here.
And some small, stubborn part of him hadn’t quite believed it until now.
A sharp electronic chime interrupted his thoughts.
The door slid open.
A woman in her late twenties stepped inside carrying a tablet beneath one arm.
Her blonde hair was tied into a neat ponytail, and unlike the guards Adrian had seen earlier, she wore a white laboratory coat over a Rocket uniform.
A small Meowth insignia was pinned to her collar.
The mark, Adrian guessed, of the research division rather than field work.
She looked him over once before making a note on the tablet.
“You’re awake earlier than expected.”
“I’ve always recovered quickly.”
“So I can see.” She stepped aside.
“Follow me.”
Adrian slipped on the boots and left the room without asking questions.
The corridor outside stretched farther than he’d expected.
Reinforced concrete walls met bright overhead lighting, giving the underground facility the appearance of a military bunker rather than a criminal hideout.
Doors lined both sides of the hallway.
Some stood open, revealing recruits around his own age hurriedly dressing in identical uniforms.
Others remained closed as medics checked on those still unconscious from the transport.
Somewhere behind one of the doors, a caged Zubat shrieked once and went quiet, as if even it understood not to draw attention.
No one spoke.
The silence wasn’t forced.
Everyone understood that they had crossed a line they could never uncross.
After several minutes, the woman led Adrian into an enormous chamber.
Nearly two hundred teenagers had already gathered inside.
Some whispered nervously among themselves.
Others stood alone, staring at the floor or the ceiling.
A few looked excited, as though joining Team Rocket were the beginning of an adventure rather than a dangerous commitment.
Adrian recognized every expression on the faces around him.
Fear, excitement, regret, curiosity, hope.
They were all here for different reasons, but he suspected most of them ended the same way his had: nowhere else left to go.
A loud buzz echoed through the room.
The conversations died instantly.
At the far end of the hall, a reinforced platform slowly rose from the floor.
Several uniformed Rocket officers stepped onto it before a broad-shouldered man in a black officer’s coat approached the center.
Unlike everyone else, he wore no mask.
A long scar stretched from his jaw to his collarbone, and his gray eyes swept across the room with practiced authority.
“My name is Captain Mercer.” His voice carried effortlessly through the chamber, without a microphone and without needing to be raised.
“From this point forward, your previous lives are irrelevant.
You were not kidnapped.
You volunteered.
You sought us out.
If you regret that decision, leave now.” He gestured toward a reinforced door on the opposite side of the chamber.
Nobody moved.
Captain Mercer waited several seconds before giving a small nod.
“Good.
The League calls us criminals.
We call ourselves survivors.” A faint murmur spread through the recruits.
“You’ve already seen how the world works.
Some of you were born into wealth.
Most of you weren’t.
Out there, opportunity belongs to the fortunate.
In here, results matter.”
Adrian noticed several recruits straighten unconsciously.
“It doesn’t matter who your parents were.
It doesn’t matter where you were born.
It doesn’t matter how much money you had yesterday.
The only things that matter inside Team Rocket are loyalty, competence, and strength.” Captain Mercer folded his hands behind his back.
“Those who excel will be rewarded.
Those who fail will remain grunts.
And those who betray us…” his expression never changed, “…won’t live long enough to regret it.”
Silence returned.
No one doubted he meant every word.
Mercer let the warning settle before his tone eased.
“Now, for the reason you’re here.” Several Rocket grunts pushed large steel carts onto the platform, each holding rows upon rows of standard Poké Balls.
Over two hundred of them.
Every recruit’s attention locked onto the carts.
“For your first assignment, you will receive a Pokémon.” A ripple of excitement spread through the hall.
Unlike League trainers, none of them had any idea what they would get.
Captain Mercer raised a hand, silencing the room again.
“Listen carefully.
These Pokémon were captured by Rocket capture teams over the past several months.
They have been examined, treated for injuries, vaccinated, and deemed healthy enough for distribution.
You will not choose.
You will not trade.
You will work with the partner you receive.” His gaze swept across the recruits.
“A weak trainer blames luck.
A strong trainer creates opportunity.”
Adrian couldn’t help agreeing, quietly.
It was part of why he’d chosen this place over waiting years for a chance the League would never give him.
Mercer gave a slight nod toward the officers.
“Begin distribution.”
The first recruit stepped forward.
A Rocket grunt handed him a Poké Ball before directing him toward the side of the chamber.
One by one, the line moved.
A girl with short red hair received a Sandshrew.
Another recruit was handed a Bellsprout.
Someone farther ahead revealed a Spearow, earning visible disappointment.
Others received Ekans, Rattata, Oddish, Poliwag, Hoothoot, Wooper, Zubat, Paras, Geodude, and dozens of other common species.
Some recruits smiled.
Others tried.
And failed.
To hide their frustration.
Adrian simply waited.
And while he waited, he let his eyes drift across the racks.
A translucent blue window appeared before his eyes.
Pokémon Scan
Species: Rattata ♀ Level: 5.
Rank: Baby Potential: Red Ability: Run Away Moves: Tackle · Tail Whip Status: Healthy Evaluation: Average Individual
He kept walking.
Pokémon Scan
Species: Spearow ♂ Level: 5.
Rank: Baby Potential: Orange Ability: Keen Eye Moves: Peck · Growl · Leer Status: Healthy Evaluation: Above Average Individual
Another.
Pokémon Scan
Species: Sandshrew ♀ Level: 5.
Rank: Baby Potential: Red Ability: Sand Veil Moves: Scratch · Defense Curl Status: Healthy Evaluation: Average Individual
Another.
Pokémon Scan
Species: Bellsprout ♂ Level: 5.
Rank: Baby Potential: Yellow Ability: Chlorophyll Moves: Vine Whip · Growth Status: Healthy Evaluation: Outstanding Individual
Adrian slowed.
Better.
Still not enough.
More scans followed.
Ekans, Zubat, Geodude, Wooper, Oddish, Poliwag.
Most were Red.
A few Orange.
Occasionally a Yellow.
Then:
Pokémon Scan
Species: Machop ♂ Level: 5.
Rank: Baby Potential: Green Ability: Guts Moves: Low Kick · Leer · Focus Energy Status: Healthy Evaluation: Exceptional Individual
Adrian actually stopped.
A Green Pokémon.
His fingers almost reached for the Poké Ball.
Then he pulled his hand back.
No.
I’ve only searched half the room.
He kept moving.
Several recruits had already chosen their moment: one proudly grabbed a Growlithe, another took a Magnemite, someone else snatched up a Machop without a second thought.
Adrian ignored all of them.
Five minutes later, near the end of the third rack, another window appeared.
Pokémon Scan
Species: Croagunk ♂ Level: 5.
Rank: Baby Potential: Blue Ability: Anticipation Moves: Poison Sting · Mud-Slap · Fake Out (Egg Move) · Cross Chop (Egg Move) Status: Healthy Evaluation: Extraordinary Individual
Adrian’s heartbeat quickened.
Blue.
Not Green, not Yellow.
Blue.
And two Egg Moves on top of it.
Even without understanding every detail of the system, he knew Egg Moves were inherited techniques wild Pokémon almost never carried together.
This Croagunk wasn’t just talented.
It had exceptional breeding potential behind it.
He resisted the urge to angle toward it and kept scanning instead.
The line hadn’t reached him yet, and there was no harm in making sure.
Another rack: mostly Red, a handful of Orange, no Blue.
The fifth rack: still nothing.
By the time his place in line finally drew close, he’d scanned nearly every Pokémon left in the chamber.
Not one matched the Croagunk.
His decision was made.
When the recruit ahead of him stepped up, Adrian shifted just enough to stand before the third rack.
A Rocket grunt reached into the steel container without looking and placed a single Poké Ball into Adrian’s waiting hand.
The same one, Adrian realized, holding his breath until the grunt marked something on a clipboard and moved on.
It hadn’t been a request.
It hadn’t needed to be.
“Next.”
The moment the ball left the rack, the compartment locked shut behind it.
No changing his mind now.
Not that he wanted to.
To anyone watching, he’d simply been handed a common Poison-type, the kind of Pokémon most trainers would overlook without a second glance.
Only Adrian knew what was actually inside.
The Poké Ball felt surprisingly warm.
He allowed himself the faintest smile.
His first battle hadn’t been against another trainer.
It had been against chance, and thanks to the system only he could see, he’d already won it before anyone else in the room knew a game had been played.
He pressed the release button.
His decision was made.
When the recruit ahead of him stepped up, Adrian shifted just enough to stand before the third rack.
A Rocket grunt reached into the steel container without looking and placed a single Poké Ball into Adrian’s waiting hand.
The same one, Adrian realized, holding his breath until the grunt marked something on a clipboard and moved on.
It hadn’t been a request.
It hadn’t needed to be.
“Next.”
The moment the ball left the rack, the compartment locked shut behind it.
No changing his mind now.
Not that he wanted to.
To anyone watching, he’d simply been handed a common Poison-type, the kind of Pokémon most trainers would overlook without a second glance.
Only Adrian knew what was actually inside.
The Poké Ball felt surprisingly warm.
He allowed himself the faintest smile.
His first battle hadn’t been against another trainer.
It had been against chance, and thanks to the system only he could see, he’d already won it before anyone else in the room knew a game had been played.
He pressed the release button.
A flash of white light burst across the polished floor, condensing into a small blue figure with orange cheek pouches and a cream-colored throat.
The Pokémon landed lightly before taking several cautious steps backward, yellow eyes narrowed, a low croak escaping its throat.
Croagunk.
Adrian instinctively reached toward it before stopping himself.
Not yet.
The little Poison-type hadn’t chosen him.
It had simply been handed to him, same as he’d been handed to Team Rocket.
Trust would have to be earned, slowly, the same way it always was.
Still, a smile tugged at the corner of Adrian’s mouth.
For the first time since arriving in this world, he finally had a partner.