The midnight hours held the hidden Team Rocket base beneath the Pewter City slums in a heavy, high-pressure silence. Deep within the restricted upper echelons of the facility, the air was cool, but inside the private chambers of Executive Ariana, a different kind of tension was smoldering.
Because of her elite rank within the syndicate, Ariana didn't sleep in the standard, shared barracks like common grunts or low-level officers. She occupied a massive, highly privileged private space that seamlessly combined a luxury bedroom with a high-end command office.
The door to her private bathroom clicked open, and Ariana stepped out into the dim room, having just finished her shower. She walked across the floor like a high-end model, her entire voluptuous, curved body in full, seductive view as the ambient light caught her skin. Moving with an effortless grace, she took a seat on the edge of her bed and began slowly drying her long, scarlet-red hair with a plush towel.
Once her hair was settled, she crossed her legs like the most alluring woman alive, her eyes fixed on the night desk beside her mattress. She reached out, her slender fingers picking up a traditional kiseru pipe—the kind of long-stemmed, elegant smoking pipe often associated with old-school yakuza bosses, traditional brothel owners, or the powerful matriarchs of pleasure entertainment houses. She struck a flame, lighting the tobacco, and took a long, deep puff. She blew the thick white smoke out into the dark room, letting the smoke clear her thoughts, before taking another slow, deliberate drag and blowing it toward the ceiling.
She turned her head, staring intently at the digital clock on her wall. As if she were waiting for the exact, calculated second, her Pokégear suddenly began to buzz violently on the mattress beside her thigh.
She picked it up, sliding the connection open. The screen flashed with an encrypted, top-tier frequency. It was Boss Giovanni.
"Report status," Giovanni's voice rumbled through the speaker, briefcase-flat, and demanding immediate authority.
"Negative, he's gone dark," Ariana replied smoothly, taking a light puff from her kiseru.
"Deserted?" Giovanni asked, his tone dropping an octave.
"I see..." Giovanni murmured. "And Lucy?"
"Negative," Ariana said, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "She was last seen with him."
"Deserted?"
"Negative... that vexing little fox wouldn't dare," Ariana chuckled softly.
"I see," Giovanni's voice carried a rare, calculated tone of respect through the line. "Then I suppose... I do owe him one for the Dugtrio. He's been quite the splendid Pokémon in my personal arsenal."
"That's exactly why he's important, no?" Ariana noted, tapping the ash from her pipe.
"Exactly. Therefore, permission granted," Giovanni commanded flatly. "Bring out your specialized Elite Team. Let your Team Valor out to take a full-scale search and rescue, full sweep."
"Slight problem, Boss," Ariana said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the maps on her desk.
"Hmm? Speak."
"Team Valor is currently far away, locked down on another high-end assignment," Ariana explained.
"I see."
"But... I do have a suggestion," Ariana purred through the smoke, her fingers tracing a localized report. "The little rat from Executive Cliff's Team Alpha has been snooping around in Pewter City like a rat lately. No doubt looking for clues about our Golden Goose, Odin himself."
"Emily?" Giovanni identified her instantly.
"Correct," Ariana confirmed.
"Fate sure does have its ways, huh?" Ariana smiled.
"Indeed... you know what to do, right?"
Boop.
The secure line cut out, leaving the room in a ringing silence. Ariana took one final, massive puff of her kiseru pipe, watching the thick cloud swirl toward the vents as she muttered to the empty room, "Just where are you two little rascals..."
□■□
When the first golden rays of the morning sun finally broke through the glass windows of the luxury center townhouse, the light hit the master bedroom mattress in sharp, glowing lines.
Angel's eyes were already wide open. Her naked body lay in full view against the pristine sheets, her white skin contrasting against the fabric. But unlike the emotional, weeping breakdown of the day before, a cold, completely emotionless vibe bled from her frame. She looked down between her thighs, checking her pussy—it was completely dry. Nothing. There was no fresh cum dripping out onto the sheets, no sign that her dominant alpha man had somehow broken into the house last night to fuck her cunt silly while she was crying in her sleep.
There was no messy, hysterical crying today. The extreme dopamine withdrawal had officially bottomed out, bypassing her sorrow and turning her mind into a freezing, razor-sharp edge.
She slid out of the empty sheets, her bare feet hitting the floorboards. She began walking toward the private shower room, her footsteps moving like a literal ghost—no sound, not a single sound vibrated off her pace as she moved. She left Poopie resting on the mattress, and the floating companion watched her soundless retreat into the steam. He sensed the transition instantly—a dark, freezing switch had just flipped deep within her core. Her vibe was completely off. What he had felt from her words last night on the bed wasn't just a trick of his imagination; something was deeply, terrifyingly wrong.
Angel stepped out of the shower and got dressed with a total, clinical focus, pulling on her gear with silent speed. She walked back to the edge of the mattress, her snowflake pupils locking straight with her loyal companion.
"Morning, Poopie," she said. Her smile was wide, but it carried a haunting, empty tone. Her voice still possessed its warm, gentle melody, but the frequency sounded completely chilling.
She scooped him up, cradling his purple frame against her ribs as she left the bedroom. Her soundless footsteps down the wooden staircase felt intensely eerie in the quiet house. Reaching the ground floor, she only found her mother, Minerva, sitting in the dining room; little Rafael was apparently still fast asleep upstairs.
"Morning," Angel chirped, her voice suddenly switching back to an incredibly warm, cheerful mask.
But the disguise didn't work. The underlying atmosphere in the room felt heavily suffocating. Minerva hesitantly offered her best good morning back, physically shaking her shoulders to dismiss the weird, cold chill vibrating off her daughter's presence.
Angel immediately headed straight into the kitchen and began making breakfast for everyone in total, silence, with Koffing floating right at her elbow. After a while, the counter was stacked with a massive, towering mountain of food. It was completely excessive for a simple morning meal. She merely plated a few small portions and set them nicely on the dining table for her family. The rest of the food? She grabbed a stack of plastic storage containers and systematically packed away massive amounts of hot food, travel flasks, survival rations, and high-end Pokéblocks.
Once everything was securely stored away, she called her mother and brother down, her voice sounding sweet and gentle—the polar opposite of the freezing, haunting vibe she radiated. No one dared to speak up. The family silently took their seats, and they shared the most quiet breakfast they had ever had in their lives.
The moment she finished, Angel didn't say a single word. She washed all the dirty plates, wiped the counter, and quietly grabbed every single one of her stored containers. She glided back upstairs with Koffing following close behind.
Reaching her room, she pulled out a large, heavy Pokébag Odin had gifted her—a beautiful, pristine white Pokébag designed specifically to match her unique albino aesthetic and purity. She stuffed all the heavy containers and water flasks inside. Then, she pulled a hidden wooden box out from underneath her bed, revealing a dense stockpile of high-end potions, healing herbs, and medical gear.
She packed every single medical item into the white bag. Once the gear was locked down, she sat back on the edge of the mattress, crossed her legs, and pulled out her Pokégear to dial Odin's line one last time.
This time, something changed. Something was fundamentally different.
She heard the exact same cocky, arrogant voice note from him, but the delivery was wrong. Normally, the Pokégear would ring and ring through the network for a solid minute until the signal finally dropped into the automated voicemail. But this time? The phone didn't ring once. The second she hit dial, the screen skipped the network connection entirely and went straight to the voice note loop.
The instant electronic skip meant a few concrete realities: his device's battery had completely died, he had traveled entirely out of the region's signal service, or the Pokégear itself had been physically pulverized.
This was the absolute final straw.
Angel's entire core, her breathing, her pupils, and her aura went completely, freezing cold. That dark switch inside her mind flipped all the way down, locking her sanity away. She slowly turned her head to look at her companion, and in a flat, bone-chilling tone, she spoke.
"Poopie, we're leaving. We're going to Mount Moon... no more delays."
Without even saying a single word of goodbye to her mother or her brother, Angel glided straight out of the front door of the townhouse, with Koffing floating silently by her side. Her steps moved like a phantom across the stones, her face a haunting, ethereal beauty cutting through the beautifully sunny day Pewter City was experiencing. She didn't utter a single syllable.
Poopie was on full, terrifying alert, his sharp eyes scanning every single corner of the pavement for any threats, any danger. He knew he had to protect Angel at all costs—not just for his master, but for himself. Other than Odin, Angel was the most important person in his universe. Just like she served as the light to Odin's dark, she was the exact good to Koffing's evil. Her purity and her angel-like personality were the only things preventing both the master and the companion from turning into absolute, unhinged monsters.
Her cold, haunting, and extremely dangerous vibe could be sensed by everyone on the street. The pedestrians who had called her a ghost a few days ago might have been completely right just for today. Today, she was on a wild hunt. Her presence was so suffocating she felt like a literal Froslass navigating broad daylight; it felt like any man or woman who came too close would have their soul drained dry on the spot. Her snowflake pupils held a sharp, murderous glare.
Perhaps it was a stroke of pure coincidence, or perhaps the threads of fate inside Kanto were simply turning a sharp corner. As Angel glided toward the outer boundaries of the residential district, her path crossed with the green-haired girl.
Both of the most beautiful girls in all of Kanto crossed paths once more, and their unique presences instantly registered in each other's senses. But unlike their first pass in the slum alleys, the baseline had completely flipped. Back then, Emily had only sensed an eerie but warm, ethereal grace from Angel. This time? Her analytical mind caught the sudden, heavy wave of pure killing intent masked beneath that hauntingly beautiful face.
Both girls stopped dead in their tracks right in the middle of the street.
Neither uttered a single word. They simply stood on the stones, staring each other down in a frozen, heavy standoff, observing every micro-expression. They both had their own, private hidden reasons to lock eyes.
Angel's gaze tracked the custom uniform elements of the green-haired girl, realizing this was no low-level grunt—this was a specialized, elite individual who might know exactly where Odin went. She might be a lead, Angel thought.
The green-haired girl, on the other hand, found the white-haired girl to be a complete oddity, and her legendary instincts and sharp intuition were flaring a massive red alert in her brain. Her instincts had always been flawless. She might be a lead, she calculated silently.
For a split second, their minds connected on the exact same unspoken target. But they smoothly disengaged eye contact, turning their heads as they continued walking their separate ways down the pavement.
As they crossed, Poopie stayed dead-focused on the green-haired girl, his purple body remaining angled toward her until she passed his field of vision. His memory tracked back perfectly to that exact same alleyway in the slums a couple of days ago—the precise morning his master had gone missing. He permanently registered every single contour of her face in his mind.
The two groups walked away from each other, separating by a dozen paces. But The green-haired had absolutely zero intention of letting her prime lead walk out of her sight. The second she rounded the corner, slipping completely out of the public view into a dark alley, she unlatched her Pokéballs.
"Murkrow, come out!"
"Kadabra, come out!"
In two silent flashes of white light, her specialized heist partners materialized in the shadows. She didn't waste a single microsecond, delivering her clinical commands.
She ordered Murkrow to immediately take to the air, using the high vantage points and rooftops to silently stalk the two oddities down the street without drawing a shred of attention. Then, she instructed Kadabra to instantly forge a secure, telepathic radio hub connecting her own mind straight to Murkrow's Mind.
Within a fraction of a second, the telepathic link snapped into place. Every single thought the flying scout relays from the sky was flashed instantly into her brain through kadabra. Murkrow will relay the exact coordinates of her location in real time.
"Kadabra, prepare Teleport," she commanded quietly, her grey-purple eyes narrowing as she adjusted her utility belt.
She wasn't going to track them on the open pavement anymore. Using Kadabra's instant psychic displacement, she was going to blink through space, teleporting from shadow to shadow, never drifting far from the duo as their fated trail began to march straight toward the perimeter of Mount Moon.
○●○
Angel and Koffing finally crossed the outer gate lines of Pewter City, stepping onto the rugged dirt road of Route 3. The high-end stone tiles of the city center gave way to cracked earth, wild weeds, and jagged boulders. Above them, the sky was beautifully clear, the morning sun beating down bright and warm.
Unbeknownst to Angel, a black Murkrow was navigating the high currents above the route, sliding from one rocky ridge to another like a silent assassin in the sky. Its sharp eyes were locked dead onto the duo bouncing against her shoulders, constantly relaying her position.
Miles behind them, hidden in the shadow of a colossal boulder, a green-haired girl stood with her arms crossed, her grey-purple eyes staring into the blank air. She couldn't literally see through her bird's eyes; that kind of visual streaming was impossible in the Pokémon world. Instead, the telepathic link operated strictly as a mental transfer. Murkrow mapped out the terrain and flashed the exact positioning straight into her companion's mind, who instantly translated the layout to the green-haired girl.
"Teleport. Seventy meters out, behind the ridge," she commanded flatly.
With a silent warp of psychic energy, she was moved forward through space. She materialized in the shadows of the rocks, staying just far enough back to avoid drawing an ounce of suspicion, keeping her model frame perfectly concealed as she tailed the silent duo.
Angel's heels hit the dirt, but her steps never made a single sound. Her movement was entirely soundless, gliding across the earth like a true phantom or a seasoned assassin. She didn't look at the sky, and she didn't look at the grass. She just marched forward.
As they moved through the route, the wild, low-level Pokémon hiding in the tall grass instantly sensed the suffocating, freezing pressure vibrating off her. Combined with the heavy, toxic aura leaking from Koffing's vents, the wild creatures shattered in a blind panic. They avoided her like a literal walking plague, clearing the path before her boots could even touch the dirt.
But humans are far stupider than wild beasts.
A young, handsome trainer was standing near the middle of the route, currently grinding up levels and training his team in the morning sun. He caught sight of Angel gliding down the path, and his eyes completely widened. He had the survival instincts of a fucking potato.
Because he was entirely focused on her jaw-dropping beauty and her curvaceous hourglass frame, his senses completely failed to register the absolute cloud of death surrounding her. He confidently smoothed down his hair, strutted right out of the grass, and blocked her path with a smooth, practiced smirk.
"Damn, sweetheart," the trainer purred, leaning casually against a boulder as he flashed a dazzling smile. "Are you a Froslass? Because looking at you completely freezes my heart, and honestly, I wouldn't mind if you dragged my soul straight into the dark with a face like that. They say ghosts has been haunting these routes lately, How about you let me keep you safe on this rough route?"
In his mind his pick up lines were smooth, highly rehearsed, and honestly genius lines; the guy was clearly a seasoned flirt who was used to pulling phone numbers off the pavement.
Unfortunately for him, today Angel wasn't in a human state of mind.
The idiot should have known better. In a dark underworld, anyone casually walking the wild routes with a massive Koffing floating at their shoulder was inherently dangerous.
Angel didn't even slow her pace. She didn't glance up at his face, she didn't smile, and she didn't waste a single shred of emotional energy. In an eerie, flat, and bone-chilling whisper that cut through the warm morning air, she dropped two words.
"Kill him."
Her voice was a cold, freezing scythe. A total, psychotic murderer.
Poopie obeyed instantly.
Before the handsome dude could even finish his smirk or react to the sudden, terrifying tone of her voice, Koffing lunged forward. A devastating cloud of toxic poison gas slammed straight into the trainer's face. The guy choked, his eyes bulging as he began coughing violently, his mouth flying wide open as his lungs frantically gasped for clean air.
The exact microsecond his throat opened to cough, Koffing fired a high-velocity, compressed Sludge Bomb right down the center of his throat. The raw, toxic slime was forced deep into his internal organs, delivering a horrific oral injection that began dissolving his insides from the absolute inside out.
"Pidge! Pidgeotto!"
The trainer's Pidgeotto frantically burst from the brush, its feathers flying as it launched a desperate, high-speed Quick Attack to save its master's life. The avian slammed violently against Koffing's side.
But Koffing intentionally let the attack hit his hide for one specific reason. He tanked the concussive blow without flinching, using the impact to drag the agile bird directly into his close-quarters physical combat range. The exact microsecond the bird's talons touched his body, Koffing executed a brutal, heavy Body Slam.
He slammed his full weight downward, crushing the Pidgeotto straight into the dirt road with bone-splintering force. The sheer impact left the bird completely paralyzed, twitching in the dirt. Koffing didn't offer a single second of mercy, immediately unleashing a point-blank, devastating Sludge Bomb right into the bird's face, instantly knocking it out cold and leaving its shattered body to the elements. Looking at the gravity of the chemical burns, the bird would definitely die on the side of the road.
And the trainer was experiencing a level of agonizing pain that defied human comprehension. The poison was actively boiling his stomach, liquefying his throat, and dissolving his lungs from the absolute inside.
He fell to his knees, screaming, twitching, and spasming violently in the dirt. His hands clawed at his own throat, his fingers tearing at his skin as the internal chemical reactions tore him apart. Eventually, his vocal cords dissolved entirely. He lost his voice, letting out nothing but wet, gurgling rasps before his body went completely stiff, rolling over into the dirt as a cold, bloated corpse.
Angel didn't let out a single word. She didn't even glance down at the body. Her phantom boots glided right past the pool of blood as she simply continued walking straight toward the mountains.
Nothing would get in her way. All shall die.
High above the trees, the green-haired girl's Murkrow watched the casual, broad-daylight slaughter play out, and the avian was completely, utterly terrified. Its feathers stood on end as it frantically flashed the information back through the telepathic links.
Inside the brain of the green-haired girl, the data hit like a physical sledgehammer. The raw, unfiltered reality of the execution flooded her mind, sending a violent shock straight through her spine. The clinical, unbothered stalker was left completely frozen in the shadows, her breath catching in her throat as she realized the horrifying truth. The white-haired girl she had decided to track out of pure hunter intuition wasn't an innocent link to her target—she was a cold, hyper-brutal, and completely psychotic murderer executing people in broad daylight without a single shred of remorse.
The high-priority buzz of her Pokégear cut through the tense silence of the ridge, vibrating sharply against the leather of her Poké belt [INDEX]. She reached down, her black-gloved fingers snapping the device off its clip as she slid the encrypted connection open, her grey-purple eyes narrowing.
She wondered why an Executive like Ariana—the cold, privileged woman who commanded Team Valor—would be bypassing her actual superior, Executive Cliff, to contact a lone operator like her directly.
"Emily, Report status," Ariana's voice purred through the speaker, accompanied by the faint, distant hiss of her traditional smoking pipe.
"I'm on Route 3," Emily replied, her voice smooth, rhythmic, and entirely monotone as she kept her back pressed against the rock. "Just looking into a few things."
"Drop whatever you are doing this instant, sweety," Ariana dropped the hammer flatly, her tone leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation. "I have an urgent, high-priority mission that requires that sharp intellect of yours."
Emily's brow twitched. She immediately wanted to protest, her fiercely independent nature screaming to decline a forced redirection from an outside faction. "With all due respect, Executive, my current target is—"
"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," Ariana cut her off with a velvet claw, a quiet chuckle echoing through the line. "Something tells me that this specific mission completely aligns with your own private interests."
Emily silenced her breath, her mind instantly shifting into a guarded, defensive stance. "What's the mission?"
"It's Odin and Lucy," Ariana delivered the names casually. "They've gone completely dark. They went missing somewhere inside the Mount Moon perimeter."
Hearing the name of the new Officer made Emily's ears immediately perk up beneath her green hair. Her heart didn't skip a beat, but her analytical brain locked onto the information like a vice. Then, a sudden, chilling realization hit her, and she narrowed her eyes at the screen. "So you knew I was looking for him?"
"I know everything, sweety," Ariana laughed softly through the smoke miles away. "And I think I also have a pretty good idea as to why you are looking for him."
"If you know... then why help me?" Emily demanded, her monotone voice hardening.
"Simply because I want to," Ariana purred, her corporate arrogance bleeding through the signal. "Since when does an executive need to explain themselves to a subordinate?"
"Tch," was the only sound Emily let out, her jaw tightening in frustration.
"Besides," Ariana added, her voice dropping into a low, teasing murmur. "Isn't this a perfect opportunity for you? You pull him out of whatever hole he's trapped in, and he is far more likely to grant you what you need... for a price... wink wink. Anyways, enough chit-chatting, sweety. This mission is important for the boss. Get to it."
Boop.
The secure line cut out with a sharp electronic click, leaving Emily standing entirely alone in the shadow of the boulders.
She slipped her Pokégear back onto her Poké belt, her mind processing the sheer, ridiculous velocity of the dramatic irony fate had just thrown at her feet. She had come to Pewter City on a completely private, unsanctioned hunt to uncover Odin's secrets. And now, by order of Giovanni and Ariana, her private obsession had just been forcefully converted into a mandatory, high-stakes syndicate search-and-rescue mission [INDEX].
She looked up at the sky where her Murkrow was still silently tracking the white Poké bag of the soundless, white-haired girl down Route 3.
Emily had absolutely zero clue that the psychotic civilian who had just committed a broad-daylight execution was directly connected to the Officer she was hunting. She believed she had to balance her brand-new rescue mission while simultaneously tracking this dangerous, blood-soaked anomaly. She was completely blind to the reality that by following her intuition on the white-haired girl, her boots were already locked onto a direct conveyor belt straight to the missing man.
Emily adjusted her belt, her face freezing back into a mask of pure, clinical calculation. She looked down at her kadabra waiting patiently beside her knees.
"She's moving toward the foothills," Emily whispered, her voice blending with the wind. "Teleport. Keep the exact same distance. Let's see where this ghost takes us."
With a silent, instantaneous warp of psychic displacement, her form vanished into the empty air, blinking through the shadows as the trail began to climb straight into the jagged rocks of Mount Moon.
□□
But as the trail began to climb straight into the jagged rocks of Mount Moon, the baseline of the path completely shattered.
Angel's heels hit the dirt, but her steps never made a single sound. Her movement was entirely soundless, gliding across the earth like a true phantom. Further down the path, the stronger, hyper-aggressive territory masters of Route 3 were waiting. And they weren't going to clear the path for anyone.
A massive, jagged-toothed wild Raticate burst from the thick brush, its eyes bloodshot as it bared its massive incisors, screeching a vicious warning to protect its feeding grounds.
Angel didn't slow her pace. She didn't even turn her head. In a flat, bone-chilling whisper, she dropped the hammer.
"Kill."
Poopie obeyed instantly. Before the giant rat could even spring forward, Koffing floated into the dirt line, deeply inhaling the ambient air to trigger a dual Stockpile. His purple, gas-vented hide instantly swelled and hardened like steel plates. The Raticate lunged, aiming a vicious Hyper Fang straight at his center, but its teeth scraped uselessly against his reinforced skin with a screeching metallic ring. Koffing didn't flinch. He threw his entire weighted mass forward into a shattering Take Down.
The impact sounded like a car crash. The raw momentum slammed the Raticate straight backward, crushing its spine instantly against the cracked earth. It let out a wet, gurgling squeak as Koffing immediately opened his vents, flooding its face with a suffocating, dense cloud of Poison Gas. The toxic fumes rotted its lungs from the inside out within seconds, leaving the creature convulsing in a pool of its own liquefied internal fluids before rolling over as a cold corpse.
"Ni-do!"
The sudden violence instantly drew the attention of a nearby wild Nidorino. The horned beast charged straight out from behind a boulder, its thick purple hide bristling as it aimed its venomous horn directly at Koffing's flank.
Angel's voice cut through the air again, a flat, robotic repeat. "Kill."
Because Nidorino was a Poison-type, standard status conditions and toxic gases would do absolutely nothing to its biologically immune system. Koffing knew that. He didn't waste a single drop of gas. Instead, he utilized the raw physical defenses from his previous grinds. The exact microsecond the charging beast closed the distance, Koffing dropped his weight, executing a devastating, point-blank Assurance.
The physical impact hit the Nidorino with double the concussive force since it was already mid-charge. The raw, heavy smash shattered the front of its skull, breaking its horn clean off at the base. The beast collapsed onto its side, screaming in primal agony, but Koffing offered zero mercy. He floated directly over its flailing head and dropped his full mass into a bone-crushing Body Slam, mashing the Nidorino's entire upper torso completely flat into the dirt, turning its bones and flesh into a crimson paste.
High in the sky, a level-grinding trainer who was standing near the rocky ridges caught sight of the carnage. His eyes completely widened in shock, but his survival instincts were non-existent. "Hey! You can't just slaughter wild Pokémon like that on a public route!" he screamed, unclipping a Pokéball from his belt and hurling it forward. "Pidgeotto, use Wing Attack! Put a stop to this freak!"
A high-speed Pidgeotto materialized in a flash of light, its wings cutting through the air like razor blades as it dived straight down at Koffing.
Angel didn't even glance up at the trainer. Her snowflake pupils remained locked on the mountain paths ahead. "Kill."
Koffing intentionally let the sharp wings slam directly into his body. The concussive Wing Attack cut deep into his purple skin, drawing thick, dark fluid and leaving a heavy bruise. But Poopie didn't fold. He used the pain to trigger his third and final Stockpile. His round body swelled up to twice its normal size, his gas vents hissing violently with a terrifying, highly compressed energy that made the entire air vibrate.
The trainer caught sight of the unnatural swelling and panicked, his face going pale. "Pidgeotto, get out of there! Abort! Fly back up—"
Too late. Koffing opened his jaws wide and unleashed a maximum-charge, unhinged Spit Up.
The stored energy didn't just leak out—it erupted from his mouth in a blinding, roaring beam of pure, concussive white force that looked like a literal Hyper Beam. The blast hit the Pidgeotto dead-on mid-air, completely obliterating the bird into bloody smithereens, feathers, and bone fragments before the avian could even let out a screech. But the beam didn't stop there. The high-velocity blast ripped straight across the dirt road, tearing directly through the trainer's torso. The raw force blew a massive, charred hole clean through the center of his chest, vaporizing his heart and spine instantly. The man dropped to his knees, his eyes wide and lifeless, before collapsing face-first into the dirt as a hollowed-out shell.
Suddenly, a ferocious roar shook the canyon walls. A wild, hyper-aggressive Primeape dropped down from the high rocks, its eyes flashing with a mad, territorial fury. Seeing the blood on the path, the ape went completely feral, launching into a brutal Cross Chop that slammed violently against Koffing's side, tearing through his hardened skin and drawing a fresh spray of dark poison fluid.
"Kill." Angel's whisper was a flat, broken loop.
Koffing took the massive physical damage, his body drifting backward from the force of the blows. But instead of going down, he activated Swallow. The residual stored energy from his previous battles instantly converted into raw, internal cellular regeneration. His torn skin and bleeding vents literally fused back together right in front of the ape's eyes, his health restoring completely as he hovered in the air like an undying zombie.
The Primeape froze, its primal instincts screaming in pure terror at the sight of a creature that simply refused to bleed. Before the monkey could turn and run, Koffing dropped a heavy, pitch-black cloud of blinding Smog straight over its head. The ape screamed, scratching frantically at its burning eyes as it was plunged into total darkness. Koffing tracked its frantic movements by scent, lunging forward with a bone-shattering Body Slam that pinned the shrieking monkey flat to the dirt road. The exact second it was immobilized, Koffing unleashed a point-blank, high-velocity Sludge Bomb right into its face, and used Sludge Bomb again and again and again until the corrosive slime melted the ape's skull into a smoking, liquefied sludge.
The path behind them was turning into a literal highway of gore, but the gauntlet wasn't over.
Around the bend of Route 3, near the very foothills of Mount Moon, a heavy, iron-hided wild Rhyhorn thundered out from the rocky alcoves alongside a massive, hissing wild Arbok. A couple of traveling trainers who were walking the route stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes bulging as they looked at the trail of dead bodies and severed Pokémon limbs lining the path. One of them frantically pulled out his Pokégear, his hands shaking violently as he tried to record the scene to alert the authorities.
"Kill. Kill. Kill."
Angel's voice was completely devoid of humanity. She didn't slow down, her heels gliding over the dust.
Because Arbok was another Poison-type creature, Koffing completely bypassed his gas moves. He immediately deployed a massive, blinding Smokescreen, plunging the entire canyon pass into a dense, pitch-black nightmare that cut off all visual lines.
In the dark, the trainers began screaming in total panic as they heard the wet, tearing sounds of a slaughterhouse. Koffing moved through the smoke with clinical precision. He tracked the wild Arbok by its heavy slithering vibration, dropping his weight into a crushing Body Slam that shattered the serpent's spine before executing it with a heavy Take Down that cracked its skull open.
The heavy stone-skinned Rhyhorn tried to blind-charge through the black smoke, its horn cutting through the fog. Koffing met the metal tank head-on, utilizing the raw defense of his skin to absorb the impact before firing an initial Sludge Bomb straight into the deep crevices and seams of its rocky armor. The corrosive acid bypassed the thick exterior plates, flooding the creature's internal flesh. Koffing stayed hovered directly above the struggling Rhyhorn, opening his jaws to relentlessly blast the exact same spot with sludge bomb after sludge bomb after sludge bomb until the beast's internal structure was completely and utterly corroded from the inside out. The Rhyhorn let out a deep, gurgling roar before its heavy knees buckled, its massive stone body crashing into the dirt as a lifeless, smoking mountain of melted meat.
The trainers who had been trying to record didn't even get the chance to run. Koffing floated through the clearing smoke, tracking their heartbeats, and executed them with a swift, merciless barrage of Sludge Bombs and Assurance strikes, leaving their broken, bloated bodies rotting under the hot morning sun alongside their teams.
By the end of the absolute street massacre, Koffing had leveled up twice from the massive influx of raw experience. His purple skin hummed with a denser, heavier aura of destruction as his strength reached level 32, his eyes remaining dead-focused on the road ahead as he hovered tightly beside his goddess.
Angel said absolutely nothing. Her eyes remained wide and frozen, her snowflake pupils locked into a sharp, murderous glare as her soundless footsteps glided straight past the pools of steaming blood. She didn't look back once. Nothing would get in her way.
Miles behind them, Emily blinked through the rocks, her Kadabra dropping her straight into the aftermath of the final execution. She stepped out from behind a boulder, her boots instantly sinking into a wet puddle of fresh blood.
She looked down, her grey-purple eyes widening in absolute, paralyzing horror. Right at her feet lay the body of a trainer, his chest completely melted through by a high-velocity blast. Down the road, a Primeape was mashed into a purple paste, and a heavy Rhyhorn was smoking from the inside out. The entire public route had been systematically converted into a grotesque, graveyard.
Inside the brain of Emily, her clinical, unbothered composure completely shattered. Her breath caught violently in her throat, her hands trembling against her Poké belt as she stared down the long, bloody path at Angel's pristine white Poké bag can be seen moving silently toward the cavern mouth in the distance.
"She's fucking crazy..." Emily whispered, her voice shaking with a cold, genuine terror.
She realized she wasn't tracking a standard anomaly anymore. This white-haired psycho had gone completely, utterly loco—a broken, psychotic monster executing everything that breathed in her presence without a single drop of remorse. And looking at the terrifying power of the Koffing floating beside her like a demon bodyguard, Emily knew that if anyone tried to step out of the shadows to stop her, they would be ruthlessly butchered on the spot.