"Prepare yourself for battle—Reshiram!"
The Poké Ball spun high into the air and burst open mid-flight. A dazzling flash of white light illuminated the battlefield, and from that brilliance descended the sacred and majestic form of the Dragon of Truth—Reshiram.
Its mighty draconic aura radiated outward without end, every ripple of power announcing its supremacy. With its solemn, commanding eyes, Reshiram looked down upon the opposing Dragonite and the two Dragonairs.
That pure-white body—its form a flawless union of a divine bird and a Western dragon—even beneath the torrential downpour, shone with such breathtaking beauty that it made hearts tremble.
"So, this… this is Reshiram!"
Standing upon the back of his Aerodactyl, Lance's sharp, prideful gaze never wavered as he studied the white dragon. His eyes reflected awe, shock, and an almost fanatical admiration.
Yes—this was no ordinary dragon. This was a legend given flesh.
For Lance, who had lived his entire life obsessed with dragons, who adored them more than anything in the world, such a sight was almost like beholding the divine itself. He had longed for this moment all his life, yet until today he had never once laid eyes upon a true legendary dragon.
And what made it all the more unbelievable was that his very first time meeting one… would be through his dear cousin.
The overwhelming draconic aura, the unfathomable power flowing through the currents of Dragon Force that even he could sense—it all shouted at him, telling him just how unimaginably strong this creature was.
"As you see Reshiram has acknowledged me, Cousin Lance, then I must insist you carefully experience its might for yourself."
Lucas turned Reshiram's Poké Ball lazily within his fingers, the corner of his lips lifting into a faint, unfathomable smile.
"Hahaha—Dragonite! Dragon Rush!"
Lance's booming laughter carried the sound of unrestrained exhilaration. The thrill in his voice was impossible to miss. This proud, arrogant Dragon Master, who carried himself like a sovereign among men, could not suppress the pounding rhythm in his chest.
To be able to clash with a legendary dragon—how could he not be excited?
And not only that, but the one commanding such a beast was none other than his own cousin.
It was for this very reason that he would not—he could not—permit defeat.
Absolutely not.
Dragonite's eyes hardened, a fierce ferocity glimmering deep within. Though its face still bore that same familiar simple and honest look common to its kind, the Dragonite trained by Lance exuded a chilling menace, a ruthless aura that made it entirely unlike its kin.
In the next heartbeat, Dragonite's body ignited with raw draconic energy, fierce currents surging around it. The aura solidified into the shape of a demonic dragon, enveloping its whole form.
Dragon Rush!
And with that, the battle erupted in an instant.
BOOM—!
The earth trembled as thunderous shockwaves burst outward from the epicenter of their clash.
From every direction of the battlefield, Team Rocket members momentarily froze in their escape, instinctively turning their heads toward the deafening roar.
"Lucas and Lance—their battle has begun!"
Archer and the others instantly realized what that meant. Biting his lip, Archer forced himself onward, continuing the desperate charge for an escape route.
With Lucas holding back the strongest force the League had to offer—Champion Lance—this was the best chance the Rocket executives had.
But of course, the League was not merely composed of its Four Elites.
The trainers who followed alongside them were elite League operatives, each formidable in their own right, and aided further by the local police officers of Celadon City.
The entire commercial district had become a battlefield in chaos, with skirmishes erupting in every street.
"We can't afford to keep wasting time here."
Commanding his Houndoom to strike down a police officer's Arcanine, Archer's expression darkened, his mind restless.
He had no idea what state the other three executives were in, but his own situation was already dire. The League had spent the entire previous night laying their net around the commercial district, giving their trainers every positional advantage. With such terrain against him, breaking out with his squad had become nearly impossible.
"Houndoom, Flamethrower!"
Wiping away the rain streaming down his face, Archer's eyes sharpened with murderous resolve. His Houndoom threw its head back, conjuring roaring flames that erupted in a blazing '大'-shaped inferno, scorching through the battlefield.
A elite-level Houndoom, giving its all in a full-force Flamethrower—few could withstand that.
"Metagross, Hyper Beam!"
A crisp, commanding voice rang out suddenly.
A massive black beam of destructive energy shot forth, colliding head-on with the searing fire.
Boom—!
The Hyper Beam and Flamethrower clashed violently, bursting apart in an explosive shockwave.
"It's her!"
Archer's pupils shrank, his gaze locking onto the figure approaching through the storm.
It was the same girl who had interfered with him aboard the S.S. Anne.
Caitlin!
"So we meet again, dear Executive."
Caitlin offered Archer a graceful bow, her lips curved into an elegant smile. Every movement of hers radiated the refined bearing of a noblewoman.
Even when standing opposite a member of an evil organization, her aristocratic upbringing dictated her poise—always dignified, always composed.
"Tch. You really are a lingering shadow I can't shake off."
Archer's face soured further. This psychic girl's strength was terrifying—even surpassing his own.
The only reason he had managed to contend with her before had been due to favorable type matchups. To encounter her again, here and now, was nothing short of dreadful news.
"I may not fully understand the meaning of this conflict," Caitlin said softly, her faint smile never faltering as her gaze drifted briefly toward the center of the battlefield—where Lucas and Lance clashed. "But I do believe this battle will allow me to grow stronger."
She knew exactly why Lucas had wanted her to stay behind. She knew of the twisted corruption among the Kanto Elite Four. But for now, she put those thoughts aside.
Because she also knew—this war between Team Rocket and the League could become her stepping stone to growth.
"Are you treating me, Archer, as a stepping stone? What an arrogant girl." Archer's eyes became even gloomier. He is Archer, one of the four generals of Team Rocket!
"People always have things they can do and things they can't do. It's important to know this." Caitlin's expression remained unchanged when she heard this, and her fair hands gracefully threw out another Poké Ball.
Gallade, with a fierce aura, appeared in front of Caitlin.
"If you can defeat me, Executive Archer, then you and your men may carve your way through this direction."
Standing tall, Metagross and Gallade poised protectively at her sides, Caitlin's calm smile only grew more radiant.
Even Officer Jenny, brow furrowed in concentration, was quietly stunned by the girl's poise. She did not know who Caitlin was, but one thing was certain—this girl stood on their side, and possessed the strength to face even Archer.
And that alone was enough.
"Damn it all…"
Archer's voice was low, his expression twisting into something darker. Caitlin's arrival had tipped the scales entirely.
Things had just become infinitely more difficult.
---------------------------
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
"My, my~ so this is the caliber of the League's trainers? Quite pitiful, really."
Moving with astonishing speed and grace, Weavile darted through the chaos like a shadowy assassin, its sharp claws flashing as it tore through one League Pokémon after another.
Karen stretched lazily, stifling a yawn as she brushed a hand through her long hair. Her half-lidded eyes swept over the battlefield, where Rocket grunts and League trainers clashed in the pouring rain.
"How dreadfully boring."
She had no intention of fleeing—not yet. There was something far more important she was waiting for.
And right on cue, an icy chill seeped into the air, crawling over her skin. A piercing beam of frost suddenly lanced toward her position.
Ice Beam!
"So, you've finally arrived."
Not the slightest hint of surprise showed on Karen's face. Instead, her lips curved into a vicious smile.
In an instant, Houndoom leapt forward from her side, unleashing a blazing column of fire to intercept the incoming ice.
Fire and ice met in a deafening clash overhead.
The flames quickly overpowered the frost, swallowing it whole before slamming into a nearby high-rise.
BOOM—!
The explosion tore through the building's facade, scattering debris into the rain-soaked streets.
"My, my~ how delightful it feels to act without restraint. To destroy whatever, I wish and bear no responsibility. Truly, joining Team Rocket was the best decision I could have made."
Her eyes gleamed wickedly as she turned her gaze toward the silhouette now standing ahead.
"Well then… don't you agree, Lorelei of the Elite Four?"
A waterfall of long, violet hair spilled down her back. She wore a black gown that accentuated her icy beauty, her exquisite features framed by glasses that only heightened her frosty aura.
Beside her loomed a Dewgong, its presence every bit as sharp and unyielding as the woman herself.
Lorelei of the Ice.
"How laughable. Garbage is garbage—whether you join Team Rocket or not, you remain nothing but filth."
Lorelei's voice was as frigid as the blizzard brewing at her fingertips. Her piercing gaze bore into Karen without mercy.
To take pleasure in wanton destruction—what sort of person could that possibly be but scum?
Joining Team Rocket did not change one's nature; it merely provided an excuse, a shield to hide behind while indulging one's cruelty. And the woman before her—this Karen—didn't show the faintest shred of guilt for the destruction she caused. She basked in it. She relished it.
Such a person… deserved nothing but death.
"What a terribly unpleasant way of speaking, Elite Four's Lorelei. Honestly now, no matter how much you dislike me, at the very least we should be considered old acquaintances by this point, shouldn't we? After all, this is already our second time meeting face to face."
In the face of Lorelei's icy words that carried nothing but contempt, Karen showed not the slightest trace of care. She simply spread her hands wide with a languid gesture, letting out a theatrical sigh, and her voice—soft, drawn-out, and almost mournful—seemed to carry with it the tone of someone deeply wounded.
And yet, her expression did not match her voice in the slightest. For on her lips lingered that same cruel, wicked smile, one that was filled with malice and mockery.
"Enough of your jokes. Last time, you were fortunate enough to slip away, but this time…" Lorelei gave a cold snort, her tone sharp and final as her fingers flicked outward. From the Poké Ball she threw, a massive Lapras materialized in a flash of white light at her side, its eyes gleaming with calm ferocity.
For someone like Karen—whose very being reeked of malice and corruption—Lorelei had no intention of wasting words.
"My, my, so cold~" Karen giggled with false surprise, deliberately wrapping her arms around her shoulders as if she were shivering. She widened her eyes in mock horror and added in a tone dripping with exaggerated shock.
"A woman as icy as the esteemed Lorelei of the Elite Four… surely, one must wonder, will there ever be anyone willing to take you in the future?"
Lorelei's eyes darkened instantly, the depths of her gaze becoming shadowy and oppressive as she fixed them squarely on Karen.
"Oh, but it is true, isn't it?" Karen continued sweetly, tilting her head, her voice still laced with that insufferable air of playful cruelty. "Not only is your personality cold, but I have heard, you know, that your hands are also unbearably ruthless. I know all about it."
Lorelei did not answer, but her silence did nothing to slow Karen down. On the contrary, the woman's malicious grin only deepened as her words, each one more venomous than the last, fell extravagantly into the air.
"Those Rocket grunts who are unfortunate enough to fall into your hands… isn't it true that eight out of ten end up with frostbite so severe that they require long and painful treatment just to recover?"
"Some of them, I've heard, are even left with permanent injuries, incurable scars that will haunt them for the rest of their lives. How very vicious, how utterly cruel, our noble Lorelei truly is. Why, even our so-called evil organization would never go so far as to deliberately cripple people like that."
She clicked her tongue twice in mock amazement, eyes alight with mischief.
"And it hasn't changed recently, has it? Why, wasn't it just the last time—at the Team Rocket base in Cerulean City—that you froze an entire group of our members into lifeless ice sculptures? Ah, how dreadful~"
Karen's tone was lilting and mocking, her eyes glinting with glee as she pressed on mercilessly.
"Compared to you, the merciless executioner of the Elite Four, I almost feel like I'm nothing more than an innocent, pure little lamb. Although, to be fair…"
Her sharp, taunting words were still pouring out one after another when, all of a sudden—
"Silence!"
Lorelei's voice cracked out like the shattering of ice, freezing the very air around them. It was a voice devoid of warmth, colder than the fiercest blizzard, and it cut directly across Karen's endless stream of ridicule.
Karen only arched an eyebrow, her smile widening into one of delighted amusement, as if she were savoring the sight of her opponent finally breaking composure.
Oh my, did I just strike a nerve? Did I truly get under your skin? How delicious.
"Trash like you Rockets…"
Lorelei's eyes had become as frigid as glaciers, her entire body emanating a chilling aura that made the very air sting against the skin.
She normally would not care for the empty taunts of Team Rocket members. Yet Karen's words, every calculated syllable, had cut into her heart like shards of ice.
Yes. She was ruthless. She was merciless. She had no need to deny it. But against those who used Pokémon as mere tools of torture and experimentation—should she, Lorelei, the Ice Queen of the Elite Four, ever show mercy?
No. Never.
"Blizzard!"
Her face hardened, her voice a sharp command that allowed no disobedience. She would silence this venom-tongued woman before her in the only way befitting her crimes—by entombing her in eternal ice.
At her order, both Lapras and Dewgong at her side began to draw in the frigid power of the atmosphere, their breaths crystallizing in the storm that gathered at their maws, preparing to unleash a howling snowstorm that would freeze the battlefield solid.
And yet, even as the killing frost began to take shape, Karen's mocking laugh rang out again, scornful and dripping with disdain.
"Trash, trash, nothing but trash—that's all you ever call us. But when the so-called 'mighty' Lorelei, the cold and ruthless Ice Queen herself, ends up proving herself to be even lower than the trash she condemns, what exactly does that make you, hmm?"
Her eyes narrowed into slits of derision as her smile curved like a knife.
"Oh, Elite Four's Lorelei~"
To Karen, there was not the slightest shred of admiration. Only contempt.
For someone like Lorelei, hiding behind the lofty banner of "justice" in order to act as judge, jury, and executioner, Karen could only sneer. In her eyes, this was nothing but the height of hypocrisy—nothing more than the behavior of a hypocrite who stained herself in blood while pretending to be virtuous.
Yes, Rocket was evil. No one would deny that. But since when had it ever been Lorelei's right to decide life and death on her own?
"Dewgong!"
Lorelei's face sank further into shadow, her lips parting as she prepared to command again—
But in that very instant, before she could even finish speaking, a piercing, bone-chilling aura suddenly swept down from directly behind her, stabbing into her back like the edge of an icicle.
(End of Chapter)