The lights flickered in the subterranean chamber, casting long, shifting shadows across cold steel walls and endless rows of humming equipment. The sterile air was tinged with ozone and the faint, acrid scent of burning circuitry. Scientists in sleek black lab coats moved with silent urgency, some tapping furiously at holographic interfaces while others peered into microscopes or calibrated meters that read far beyond the average person's comprehension.
Above them, mounted on the reinforced obsidian-like wall, a plaque glinted with cruel finality, its silver surface engraved with three precise words:
PROJECT THUNDERBOLT
At the heart of the facility stood a containment chamber, large enough to house a truck but currently dominated by a single, transparent pod suspended by reinforced cables and shock dampeners. It glowed with a faint golden hue. Inside, floating in a magnetic stasis field surrounded by faint arcs of static electricity, was a creature both familiar and grotesquely altered.
A Pikachu.
But not just any Pikachu.
This one's fur shimmered unnaturally, each follicle charged with residual voltage that never dissipated. Its body was lean but packed with dense, twitching muscle that pulsed like a coiled spring. Its tail—zigzagged like others of its species—was thicker, lined with hardened filament designed to withstand megavolt discharges. Its cheeks sparked at intervals, like a faulty breaker, but the energy was measured, controlled. Its eyes were closed, its breathing shallow but steady, its mind—if it could be called that—drifting in a sea of implanted commands and false memories.
Subject Designation: P-01
"Vitals are stable," reported a thin, nervous-looking scientist, hunched over a biometric panel. His nametag read Dr. Kuro. "Neural activity is spiking again, though. Oscillations in the limbic system are increasing."
"He's becoming aware," another technician muttered, brushing sweat from her brow. "We need to regulate the cognitive limiter before—"
CRACK!
A deafening surge of electricity burst from the pod's seams, spider-webbing across the floor and momentarily darkening every light in the chamber. Sparks flew from the nearest terminal. The monitors scrambled. For one split second, the entire system froze—caught in a loop of raw, elemental force.
In the center of it all, the Pikachu's form twisted midair, convulsing once. Its eyes flashed—deep, feral red—before returning to their natural brown.
Then… stillness.
The lights slowly returned. Fans began to spin again. The alarm klaxons, which had barely begun to wail, died into an uneasy silence.
From the observation balcony, flanked by a pair of black-suited guards, a tall figure stepped forward, his presence like a shadow that had grown teeth.
Giovanni.
Immaculate in his signature charcoal-gray suit, the Rocket Boss radiated calm authority. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the data streaming across the primary monitor.
"Status," he said, not loudly—but with enough weight that the room quieted.
"Containment is intact," Dr. Kuro said, trying not to let his voice shake. "Subject is stabilizing. Neural limiters are still engaged. We believe he's responding to the mental conditioning protocols. Slowly."
Giovanni's gaze turned colder. "The combat data?"
The lead technician swallowed. "Based on simulations and live neural response, Subject P-01 may reach destructive potential comparable to Mewtwo within five years… possibly sooner. Unlike Mewtwo, however, his emotional response has been… modified. Less self-awareness. More obedience."
A pause. Then Giovanni gave a small, pleased smile.
"That's the point."
He turned toward the pod, watching the Pikachu float motionless, its fur gently crackling. It looked peaceful… but it was an illusion.
This was no accident of nature.
This was designed.
--------------------
[Three Years Earlier – Secret Laboratory Beneath Cinnabar Island]
Dr. Kuro had once been a bright-eyed bioengineer, a prodigy from the Johto Genetics Institute. He had been recruited personally by Blaine, before the scientist's mysterious disappearance. What began as a collaborative project to enhance Pokémon healing through regenerative stem cells quickly devolved into something far darker once Giovanni stepped in.
The beggining of Mewtwo Project had changed everything.
Mewtwo, while powerful beyond reason, was too aware, too independent. And Team Rocket feared that.
Team Rocket had wanted a weapon, and they got it. But what if he went out of control?
So Giovanni initiated a new plan. One less grandiose, more subtle. This time, instead of using Mew or fossilized ancestors, they would work with a known, popular species. One whose ubiquity would allow infiltration without detection. One that could blend in.
They selected Pikachu.
The genetic sequencing was a nightmare. Pikachu DNA was reactive—unstable under forced mutation. They ran through 48 failed subjects, each one either combusting from internal energy overload or breaking down at the cellular level. Then came Subject P-01.
A blend of synthetic biocells, modified Volt Absorb proteins, and—most controversially—a microscopic splice of legendary DNA from Zapdos and Raikou, stolen during a covert Rocket raid in the Johto region. These strands were inactive—dormant recessive code—but they created an energy absorption and discharge cycle that no natural Pikachu could possess.
The early results stunned even Giovanni.
Super-speed neuron firing. Accelerated muscle recovery. An energy output capable of frying armored tanks.
But the true test… was obedience.
Hence the implant: a cognitive limiter, installed at the base of the skull, which dampened higher self-reflection and rerouted rebellious thoughts into synthetic instincts. In essence, Subject P-01 was still a Pokémon… but his loyalty was hardwired.
Until now.
--------------------
[Present Day – Rocket Headquarters, Unknown Location]
The Pikachu twitched again.
In the control room adjacent to the chamber, Dr. Kuro stared at the EEG monitor. "There it is again," he murmured.
"Conscious thought formation?"
Kuro nodded slowly. "He's remembering... things."
"But he shouldn't be capable of memory retention beyond command structures. Are you saying he's—"
"I'm saying he's adapting. Learning. Possibly dreaming."
The technician beside him looked pale. "That shouldn't be possible."
Kuro hesitated. Then, in a soft voice, "Neither was Mewtwo."
On the other side of the glass, the Pikachu's eyes opened. Not wide—just enough.
Just enough to watch them.
...
Rain lashed the windows. The mountain facility, hidden beneath kilometers of bedrock, was completely isolated from the outside world.
Giovanni sat behind a desk of black marble, watching surveillance footage. Frame by frame. The moment the red glow appeared. The tremor in the floor. The look in P-01's eyes.
He reached for a glass of dark wine and sipped.
A knock.
"Enter."
Dr. Kuro stepped in, visibly exhausted. "Sir, I have compiled the full neural response data. Subject P-01 is evolving beyond our projections."
"Explain."
"His brain isn't just accepting commands. It's rewriting them. He's interpreting stimuli at a conceptual level. Last week, we exposed him to simulated combat against projected threats. He didn't just respond—he adapted. Strategized."
Giovanni steepled his fingers. "And the emotional regulators?"
"Still active… but weakening. Slowly."
Another pause.
Giovanni's voice was colder than the air. "If this subject develops a sense of identity, we are no longer holding a weapon. We are holding a rebellion."
Kuro didn't respond.
Giovanni leaned forward. "Increase the cognitive dampeners. Begin sleep deprivation cycles. Remove all visual stimuli except for combat-oriented training."
Kuro hesitated. "With respect, sir… if we push him further, we risk—"
Giovanni stood.
"That wasn't a suggestion."
...
Within the containment pod, P-01 floated in darkness.
But his mind… was not dark.
He dreamed.
Of forests. Thunderstorms. Laughter.
A flicker of static surged across his fur. His tail twitched once.
They called him Subject P-01.
But he was just a Pikachu, right?
--------------------
Next Morning – Observation Log #190
"Subject P-01 displayed irregular REM patterns. Heart rate elevated during sleep cycle. Fluctuating power levels—brief spike to 9.2 teravolts during dream state. Subject mimicked battle stances and vocalizations. Possible pre-conscious development?"
"Recommend reassessment of emotional inhibitors. Current limitations may be insufficient."
'Mewtwo was a mistake. Too much power without loyalty. Too much will. P-01 is different. Smaller, yes. But more versatile. Less suspicious. He can be deployed in public, under cover. A perfect spy. A perfect soldier.'
"One day, he will replace the need for Rocket agents altogether."
"We will not fail again."