Gladion sat propped up in his bed, his head still throbbing from, though the fever had subsided thanks to Latios and Latias.
"Sup, Gwen?" Gladion asked, his voice wry, leaning back against the headboard. Gwen's angrily looked at him, her hands on her hips.
"Sup? I was worried sick, you idiot! Why didn't you call for help? Other Gym Leaders, the Elite Four—hell, you could've called me! I'd have dragged Agatha here!" Her voice cracked.
Gladion smiled a little, "Gwen, you think I needed help to save Moonwood? Look around," he said, gesturing to Latios and Latias with a smug grin. "I had better help than any Gym Leader or Elite Four."
Gwen's jaw dropped, her eyes darting to the Eon Pokémon. "Why the hell do you even have two legendaries in your room?" she demanded, her voice rising.
Latias's telepathic tone cut in, gentle but firm, like an older sister scolding a sibling. [Language, Gladion's little sister.] Gwen's face reddened, her aura spiking with indignation.
[I'm his big sister, not little!] she snapped, then froze, realizing she was arguing with a legendary Pokémon.
'Oh, Arceus, I just yelled at Latias,' she thought, her bravado faltering.
Latios's voice, warm and steady, filled the silence. [To answer your question, we're part of little brother Gladion's team.]
"Team?" Gwen's voice hit a new octave, her eyes wide. "Glady, you've got two legendaries on your team? Agatha—that old hag—said legendaries aren't to be messed with! How'd you even get them? And, more importantly, can I have one? Pretty please?"
Her tone shifted to a shameless plea, her eyes sparkling with hope. Everyone—Milo, Lila, Ben, even Ultron—stared at her, dumbfounded.
Gladion rolled his eyes, his psychic aura twitching with amusement. 'Typical Gwen, trying to mooch a dragon.'
"No way, Gwen," he said, smirking. "They picked me, not you."
Milo and Lila, ignoring the tension, bounced around, trying to touch Latios and Latias, who hovered just out of reach.
"They're so cool!" Milo said, jumping and missing. Lila clutched her plush Jigglypuff, giggling. "They're pretty!"
Milo, ever the charmer, grinned cheekily. "Since you're big brother Gladion's big sister, Gwen, you must be our big big beautiful sister too!" Latias giggled telepathically, her red wings fluttering.
"Aren't you a funny little one?" She lowered herself, letting Milo's small hand brush her side. He squealed, delighted, while Lila pouted, still jumping.
Ben, snapping out of his awe, cleared his throat. "Alright, everyone, let's move. Gladion needs rest." His voice was firm, but his eyes lingered on Latios and Latias, still processing the existence of two Legendaries in their house.
He herded Milo and Lila toward the door, Gwen trailing reluctantly, her glare promising a future argument. "Get better, Glady," she muttered with worry.
As the door closed, Gladion let out a breath, 'Family's exhausting.'
Alone, he grabbed his phone, scrolling through messages. His social media team had flooded his inbox, their texts urgent.
"Boss, check the news NOW!" one read. Gladion's brow furrowed, 'What now?' He flicked on the TV, flipping to a news channel.
A protest raged in Viridian City, people burning photos of him, holding posters that screamed, "Gym Leader Gladion killed innocent Pokémon!" and "Pokémon Killer!"
The anchor's voice was grim. "Pokémon rights activists have filed cases against Gym Leader Gladion Vortex with the Indigo League, accusing him of slaughtering a dozen Gyarados during the Moonwood attack." Gladion's eyes narrowed, his aura darkening.
He scrolled through PokéTwitter, seeing hashtags like #GladionTheKiller trending. Comments accused him of reckless violence, claiming the Gyarados were victims of Team Rocket's actions, not threats.
'Someone's spinning this,' he thought, his smirk turning cold, predatory. 'They're using my own platforms to smear me. Clever.' His mind flashed to his past life on Earth, where PR battles were bloodier than any Pokémon fight. 'I've seen this game before—smear campaigns, bought influencers, fake outrage. Whoever you are, you've picked the wrong target.'
He then saw another news saying that Gladion is also responsible for the deaths of Team Rocket men and Pokemon over the years.
"Gladion had destroyed bases of Team Rocket over the years. We have seen burned bodies of both Pokemon and team rocket men. Who gave him the right to kill them? He is a fifteen year old kid. Is he right in his mind or he is just a blood thirsty child?"
Another news labelled, "He was not even a Gym Leader when he killed Team Rocket people. Who gave him such authority? What if he had killed some innocents? Why is he not in jail?"
'Team Rocket,' he thought, 'Giovanni's behind this, I'd bet my resorts. He's pissed about his grunts, his ship, and he's hitting me where it hurts—my reputation.' Gladion leaned back, his evil smile growing.
'You've given me an opportunity, Giovanni. I'll flip this narrative and bury you.' His fingers hovered over his PokéNav, ready to call his PR team, but his head throbbed, a reminder of his limits.
'First, rest. Then, war.'
'PR battles won't scare someone who's seen many of them on Earth anyways,' Gladion thought.
-----Author Notes------
Thankyou Scott DePaepe for supporting me!
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