The encounter on the road still weighed faintly on Red's mind, though he didn't let it slow his pace. That girl… she had Leaf's face, Leaf's smile, Leaf's habit of tilting her head just so when she teased him but she wasn't Leaf. Not here.
In this world, she was someone else. Someone who didn't hesitate to trick strangers with counterfeit items.
Red adjusted his cap lower and let the memory fade behind him. Dwelling on it served no purpose. He had a journey to focus on, challenges to overcome, and Pokémon to train.
By the time he reached Celadon, the sun was already leaning west, casting the vast city in afternoon warmth. The bustling streets were alive with vendors, trainers, and citizens weaving through the wide avenues. Celadon's sheer size dwarfed the towns he had passed through—buildings stacked high, the air heavy with scents of food stalls, chatter, and the cries of wild Pidgey circling rooftops.
Red's first stop was the Pokémon Center. He pushed through the automatic doors, the familiar scent of antiseptic washing over him. Inside, trainers clustered in the lounge, some laughing, some studying maps, others waiting quietly with their Pokémon at their sides.
Nurse Joy greeted him with her professional smile. "Welcome to the Celadon Pokémon Center. How can I help you?"
Red unclipped his Poké Balls one by one, setting them on the tray. "Heal them." His words were few, but clear.
She nodded briskly, passing the tray into the machine. A soft hum filled the room as the restorative systems activated, bathing the Poké Balls in gentle light. Red sat down in one of the nearby chairs, elbows resting on his knees, eyes half-shut.
For a brief moment, he allowed himself to relax. His mind ticked over the battles he'd fought lately, the strengths and weaknesses of his team, and what training adjustments they would need. His journey wasn't just about Gym Badges anymore—it was about something larger, though he still couldn't pin it down. This world had shifted in subtle ways, different from the one he knew.
When the machine chimed, Nurse Joy returned with his Pokémon. "All better now!"
Red clipped them back onto his belt with a nod of thanks. No words wasted.
Stepping back into the city's noise, he decided to walk. The streets twisted in branching paths, lined with shops selling all manner of goods: shimmering stones, ornate Poké Ball cases, charms claiming to bring luck in battles. Red's expression didn't change, but his mind was alert.
And then—he heard it.
"—It's a rare stone, one-of-a-kind! If you give it to your Machop, he'll grow stronger than ever. Trust me, you'll never find a bargain like this again."
Red stopped mid-step, turning his head slightly toward a side street. His eyes narrowed.
It was her.
The girl.
Same brown hair, same confident grin curling her lips. Dressed in a modest black dress, she held out a dull-looking stone in her hand. In front of her stood a boy no older than ten, clutching his Machop nervously. His eyes wavered between the "stone" and his purse.
"…R-Really? It'll make him stronger?" the boy asked uncertainly.
"Of course," she purred, leaning closer, voice dripping with sweet persuasion. "You love your Machop, don't you? You wouldn't want him to be weak when he could be so much stronger. And all for just five hundred Pokédollars."
The boy hesitated, torn between doubt and the tug of wanting to do right by his Pokémon. His small fingers trembled at the purse's strings.
Red's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Don't."
The boy startled, nearly dropping his purse. Both he and the girl turned their heads.
Red stepped forward from the shadows of the alley's edge. His eyes were sharp beneath the brim of his cap, fixed squarely on the stone in her hand.
"That's fake."
The girl blinked, her act slipping for just a fraction of a second. Recognition flashed in her eyes. Then, smoothly, her lips curved back into a bright smile, as though nothing were amiss.
"Oh, it's you again," she said with a lilting tone, pretending delight. "Are you following me? How flattering."
Red ignored the jab. His gaze shifted to the boy. "Don't buy it. It won't do anything."
The boy froze, confusion swirling in his young face. "B-But she said"
"She lied," Red interrupted, voice flat, unshakable.
The girl's mouth turned into a mock pout. "How rude. I'm just trying to help him. Honestly, you make me sound like some kind of criminal."
Her eyes flicked back to the boy, lashes lowering as she whispered sweetly. "He's only saying that because he's jealous I offered it to you and not him."
The boy looked between them, uncertain. But Red's presence was firm, his expression unreadable, unyielding.
"Go," Red said simply. "Take Machop and leave."
The boy hesitated then bolted, clutching Machop's hand tightly, disappearing into the bustling street.
The girl's smile lingered until he was gone. Then her gaze slid back to Red, sharper now, the mask slipping.
"You really do like ruining my fun, don't you?"
"You're cheating people," Red said evenly. "That's not fun."
Her lips curved into a grin, sly and challenging. "Well then… catch me if you can."
And she ran.
---
Red didn't hesitate. His boots pounded the pavement, weaving through startled pedestrians as he pursued her through Celadon's maze of streets. She was fast—darting past carts, vaulting low fences, slipping through gaps in the crowd with the skill of someone who had been running her whole life.
But Red was relentless. His eyes locked onto her figure, his body moving with a calm, steady determination. He wouldn't let her escape.
She cut sharp left, the sound of rushing water growing louder. The chase spilled onto a wooden bridge spanning the wide river that cut through the city. Without missing a beat, she yanked a Poké Ball from her belt.
"Wartortle!"
In a flash of white, her partner materialized—blue shell gleaming, tail curling like froth. She leapt onto its back in one smooth motion.
"Surf!"
Wartortle dove into the water, paddling hard, carrying her swiftly downstream. She turned mid-ride, throwing Red a triumphant grin.
"Better luck next time!"
Red reached for his belt.
"Pidgeotto!"
The bird soared into the sky with a shrill cry, feathers gleaming in the sunlight. Red's arm cut downward. "Gust!"
Pidgeotto banked, wings glowing as they sliced the air into a roaring gale. The wind smashed across the river's surface, whipping waves into chaos. Wartortle fought the current desperately, but the storm of air dragged them toward shore.
The girl yelped, clutching onto her Pokémon as both were forced back onto land in a spray of water.
Coughing, dripping wet, she scrambled upright, glaring at Red furiously. "What is your problem!?"
Red's steps were calm, deliberate, Pidgeotto circling overhead. His voice was quiet, but carried weight.
"You're lucky I haven't called the police."
Her expression froze. Then, almost instantly, it shifted. Anger melted into wide-eyed innocence, lips trembling as tears welled up. She clasped her hands, voice shaking.
"P-Please, don't… I'm sorry! I'll be good next time, I promise. I only… I only did it because I wanted to see you again." Her eyes shone as she stepped closer. "Someone like you so amazing, so kind I knew you wouldn't let me get away. That way, we could meet again."
Her voice cracked as she flung herself forward, arms wrapping around him in a sudden hug. Her shoulders shook with false sobs, but behind his back, her tongue stuck out in mockery.
"I'm so glad we met again… what I said before—it was all lies. I don't want to be alone anymore."
She peeked up, expecting him to soften.
But Red's expression didn't change. Neutral. Cold. Seeing straight through her.
Her heart skipped, irritation boiling beneath her fake sobs. "…Tch."
She shoved him back, face twisting. "Wartortle, attack!"
But Red was faster. His arm cut down, voice sharp.
"Pidgeotto—Gust!"
The gale roared again, blasting her and Wartortle off their feet. The Pokémon collapsed, unconscious, while she tumbled onto the dirt, dress disheveled.
Red approached slowly. His eyes flicked to a small purse that had fallen from her grasp. He crouched, lifting it briefly. Inside, stitched into the lining, was a name.
Green.
His brows furrowed faintly. In his old world, she had been Leaf. Why was it different here?
He set the purse beside her, silent. Without another glance, he turned and walked away.
When his footsteps faded, the girl cracked one eye open. She sat up, brushing dust from her dress, annoyance twisting her face.
Then she opened her purse and froze.
More money than before. A folded note on top.
'Do better.'
Her grip tightened, knuckles whitening.
"He… pities me?" she hissed, heat rising in her cheeks.
Her teeth clenched, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"You'll regret that."
---
The next day, Red rose early. Training had become his routine sharp, methodical, efficient. Ivysaur's vines was quicker and more precise, and Pidgeotto's aerial maneuvers sharper than ever. Each Pokémon pushed to its limit, each battle executed with silent understanding.
By the time he finished, the sun was climbing high. He wiped his brow, heading back toward the Pokémon Center to rest and recover.
That was when he noticed them.
Two men in dark uniforms moving along the opposite street, black caps pulled low, their voices low but urgent.
Red's steps slowed. He slipped behind the trunk of a tree, pressing close enough to stay hidden as two figures in black uniforms walked by. The bold red R on their backs made his jaw tighten. Team Rocket.
"…it always seems like we're just about to nab her," one grunt muttered.
"Yeah," the other agreed with a shake of his head. "But whenever we close in, all we hear is, 'Green was just here, but she's gone now.'"
Red's eyes narrowed.
Green.
There was no mistaking it—Team Rocket was looking for the same girl he had already crossed paths with.
"…What happens if we don't?" the other asked.
The first grunt's face hardened. "Then it's over for us. The Boss doesn't forgive failure. Keep your eyes open he said she was last spotted near Celadon."
Their voices faded as they turned down an alley.
Red remained still for a long moment, thoughts churning. Team Rocket. The name carried weight an organization that fed on greed and corruption, spreading like poison. He had crushed them once in his old world, seen the depths of their cruelty firsthand.
And now they were after her.
Why?
His decision came swiftly. Answers would only be found at the source.
---
Later that afternoon, Red stalked one of the grunts from a distance. The man walked alone, muttering to himself, scanning the streets.
Red's eyes flicked once to his belt.
"Pikachu."
The electric mouse appeared silently, sparks flickering across its cheeks.
"Thundershock."
A quick jolt snapped through the air, striking the grunt before he could even turn. His body stiffened, eyes rolling back as he crumpled into the bushes lining the path.
Red knelt, pulling the man deeper into cover. His hands worked quickly, stripping the Rocket uniform from the unconscious grunt. When Red straightened, the black outfit hung across his shoulders, the cap pulled low over his face.
His own clothes were folded and stashed beneath a tree's roots.
Red adjusted the cap. The disguise would hold.
Time to move.
---
The Game Corner was a loud, dazzling place. Lights flashed across slot machines, music blared, and the crowd buzzed with gamblers chasing fleeting luck. Red stepped inside, head lowered just enough to blend in with the stream of uniformed Rockets moving subtly among the crowd.
To the average patron, Rocket members were invisible just attendants, staff, background. But Red knew better.
He trailed behind a pair of grunts as they passed through the gaming floor. Eventually, they stopped at a guarded door marked "Staff Only."
Red followed.
The guard scanned them quickly, eyes flicking to Red. For a moment, Red thought suspicion might spark but the man gave a curt nod and let them through.
Down a hallway they went, the muffled noise of the arcade fading behind them. The air grew cooler, quieter, until they emerged into a large meeting chamber.
A man in a darker uniform stood at the front, posture commanding. His presence silenced the room of grunts who had gathered.
"Listen up," the officer barked. "The Boss has issued an order. That girl the thief named Green. She stole something critical. And until we recover it, no one rests."
A ripple of whispers spread, quickly stilled by his glare. He lifted a sheet of paper, pinning it to the board behind him. A wanted poster. Green's smirking face stared back at them, her brown hair framing mischievous eyes.
Red's gaze lingered, unreadable.
The officer's tone dropped lower, deadlier. "Understand this: if we fail, it's not just her life on the line it's ours. Now follow me."
He moved to the far wall, pressing a hidden switch. With a grinding rumble, a section of the wall slid open, revealing a staircase spiraling downward.
The grunts filed after him. Red joined the stream, silent and alert.
---
The air grew heavy underground. The walls here weren't plaster and wood but cold steel, lit by harsh fluorescent lights. At the bottom, the chamber widened into a massive laboratory.
Red's eyes swept the scene, tension tightening in his chest. Scientists bustled about in white coats, flanked by guards. Strange equipment hummed, machines pulsing with green light. And behind glass tanks, silhouettes floated shapes of Pokémon that were twisted, incomplete, still forming.
The officer led the group forward. "You grunts think this is just about smuggling or gambling? Think again. Team Rocket is building power beyond anything the world has ever seen."
He gestured sharply toward the tanks.
"Artificial Pokémon. Weapons."
Red's breath slowed. Artificial Pokémon…
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he caught fragments of hushed conversations from the scientists.
"…specimen unstable…"
"…gene splicing incomplete…"
"…subject Mewtwo requires further stabilization…"
Mewtwo.
Red's body went rigid.
He knew that name. He remembered the battle Cerulean Cave, the raw, overwhelming psychic power. He remembered standing alongside his Charizard, every command a razor's edge between survival and destruction.
He remembered the moment his life had ended in that world, Mew's elusive shadow slipping through his grasp even as Charizard fell beside him.
And here… they were still building it.
"That girl stole the disc containing the genetic data," a scientist muttered to another. "Without it, progress is halted."
Red's focus sharpened. So that was it. That was why Rocket hunted her.
A siren blared suddenly, red lights flashing across the lab.
"All units attention!" a voice roared over the intercom. "The target has been sighted! The girl is in the city!"
The grunts erupted into motion, bolting toward the stairway.
---
By the time Red slipped back into the city streets, the sirens had already gone quiet. Rockets scattered in all directions, spreading like shadows through Celadon. Red kept his head low, still cloaked in his stolen uniform, letting the chaos guide him.
It didn't take long. A stream of Rockets veered westward, their boots pounding against the cobbled paths. Red followed, each step silent, his cap shadowing his eyes.
The chase dragged on for nearly twenty minutes, winding through alleys, across narrow bridges, past startled bystanders. Eventually, the noise thinned, the city fading behind them. The pursuit carried them to the outskirts, where the land rose into rocky ridges overlooking a river gorge.
And there at the edge of the cliff stood Green.
Her hair was wind-tossed, her grin sharp and defiant despite the ring of black uniforms closing in. Wartortle braced at her side, its shell gleaming in the harsh afternoon sun.
The Rocket officer from earlier stepped forward. His voice carried like a whip.
"Hand over the disc, girl. You know you can't win. Do it now, and maybe we'll let you crawl away."
Green tilted her head, feigning thoughtfulness. Then she smirked.
Before any of them could move, she flicked her wrist. A small metallic disc gleamed in her fingers the genetic data for Mew.
"Wartortle!"
Her partner Pokémon snapped its jaws open just as she tossed the disc. In one swift gulp, Wartortle swallowed it down, the metal glint vanishing into its throat.
The Rockets froze.
Her smirk widened. "Now… if you hurt me, you risk damaging what you want. Tough spot, huh?"
A murmur of frustration rippled through the grunts. Their Pokémon edged forward but hesitated, every attack a risk.
Green only laughed, clutching her purse to her chest. "What's wrong? Afraid to scratch your precious toy?!"
The Rockets pressed in, their Pokémon lunging and striking but always pulling their blows just short. Every attack came with hesitation. No one dared risk damaging the disc inside Wartortle.
That hesitation turned the battlefield into chaos.
Hitmonlee lashed out with a kick but twisted his leg mid-strike to avoid Wartortle's belly. The deflection sent him crashing into a Machamp charging from the opposite side. The two collided with brutal force, staggering the front line. Stray blows flames, water, stone, and fists struck allies instead of their mark, scattering Rockets' Pokémon in every direction.
Green threw her head back, laughing. "Hah! Look at you clowns too scared to land a real hit! You're beating yourselves up for me!"
But luck never lasts.
Orders were barked again sharper this time. The Rockets knew they couldn't keep playing around.
Hitmonlee pivoted, leg snapping out in a brutal roundhouse. At the same instant, Machamp surged forward, two of its fists slamming down in a crushing double strike.
The combined impact hit Wartortle square-on.
He cried out, legs buckling as the air rushed from his body. His shell rattled, and with a pained groan he collapsed to the ground, knocked senseless.
As his jaw slackened, the metallic disc slipped free, clattering onto the dirt for all to see.
Green's grin froze. The bottom dropped out of her confidence.
Her shield was gone.
Green's breath hitched." Oh no switch! "
A sharp beam of red light pulled Wartortle back into its Poké Ball before it could take another hit. Her hand darted for another, flinging it out in desperation.
The pink blob emerged in a flash, its body already beginning to quiver and stretch into another shape.
But it never got the chance.
The Rocket officer's gaze was already fixed on her, cold and ruthless. With the disc retrieved, there was no reason to stall any longer.
His hand cut through the air.
"Tauros. Throw her off."
The massive beast roared, lowering its horns. Hooves tore into the dirt as it thundered forward, the earth shaking under its weight.
Green's eyes widened. The cliff edge loomed behind her too close, too steep. She stumbled back, the wind whipping around her, Ditto still half-morphed at her side.
For the first time, her bravado faltered. The grin slipped from her face, replaced with raw, flashing fear.
The cliff wind howled. The Tauros bore down, unstoppable.
And then a roar split the sky.
The sound was primal, deafening, echoing off the gorge walls. Heat washed over the battlefield as a shadow blotted out the sun.
Charizard descended.
Its claws gleamed, its wings tore through the air with hurricane force. Just as Tauros lunged for Green, Charizard's fist glowed with raw power, slamming forward in a devastating Mega Punch.
The impact cracked the ground like thunder. Tauros was lifted off its hooves, its massive body flung through the air as though weightless. It crashed against the far ridge nearly a hundred meters away, bellowing in pain before it collapsed in a heap.
The battlefield went silent.
Every Rocket, every Pokémon froze under the blaze of Charizard's glare. Its flames roared, its tail burned like a beacon.
Green stumbled back, eyes wide. Her heart hammered, her throat dry.
Charizard's wings spread wide, shielding Green from the Rockets.
The silence stretched.
For the first time, Green had no smile, no smirk, no quip. Only shock as the dust settled, the shadow Charizard towering behind her.
---