Prof. Oak climbed onto Dragonite's back, the massive dragon shifting its weight before lifting off. Its black eyes swept over Shin one last time—cold, sharp.
FWOOOSH! The air roared as Dragonite's wings beat, stirring dust and grit into Shin's face.
Shin swallowed hard. Just meeting those eyes made his skin crawl. Even when the pair disappeared into the clouds, the weight in his chest didn't ease. He stood frozen for a moment before his legs gave out, and he slid down the wall behind him, collapsing onto the cold stone with a soft thud.
"Damn it…" he muttered under his breath. His whole body trembled. He could still feel it—the killing intent Prof. Oak had unleashed. One wrong word, one wrong look, and Dragonite would have crushed him without hesitation.
Fear. Pure, unrelenting fear.
Yet, beneath that fear, a flicker of something else twisted in his chest. Jealousy. To command a Dragonite… to have that kind of power at your side. But he pushed the thought away. Envy wouldn't keep him alive.
He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to steady. A memory surfaced—the desperate prayer he had made before coming here. Three wishes, foolish and frantic, thrown at the void. One of them had been for luck.
"Guess that's what this is," Shin whispered to himself. "Luck… nothing else would've saved me."
But regret quickly followed. One glance at Dragonite could've shown him everything—its potential, its limits. The ceiling of its strength. That was exactly the kind of knowledge he needed to survive in this world. To know how far he had to climb before he could stand freely, without the constant threat of being crushed.
Yet when Prof. Oak's killing intent washed over him, fear had stolen his senses. He hadn't even thought to use the system. Now the chance was gone, and with it, the chance to measure the gap between his fragile life and the monsters that ruled this world.
Shin pushed himself upright with a grunt. His ribs still ached, but Chansey's healing had patched him enough to move. He tugged his hood low and started walking.
Through the memories of this body, he knew he'd lingered in Pewter City too long. And he remembered the groups he'd seen—slipping into that corner shop at night, sometimes two at a time, sometimes more, only to leave later with different faces. It wasn't hard to guess what that place really was.
Tonight, he would walk through that door.
The streets grew quieter the deeper he went, lanterns flickering weakly above shuttered stalls. The corner shop waited at the end of a narrow alley—dusty windows, chipped paint, and an old wooden sign that had long since lost its letters.
CREAK. The old door groaned as he pushed it open. A faint bell chimed overhead—ding-ling…
Inside, it looked like any small shop. Shelves lined with jars and boxes, the faint smell of herbs in the air. At a table near the counter sat an old woman, hunched but alert, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. Her eyes, sharp and dark, lifted to him the moment he stepped in.
Shin walked straight over.
"I want to join Team Rocket," he said.
The old woman's lips curled into a thin smile, her voice rasping low."Oh… boy. Once you step into Team Rocket, there's no leaving. Not alive. You understand that?"
Shin's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice steady."I've got nothing to regret."
"Oh…" She chuckled softly, a sound like old wood creaking. "Nothing to regret, is it? Then you've already made your choice."
She stood, her joints cracking faintly—crack… crack—as she pushed herself upright. "Follow me."
Shin kept silent and did as told.
The old woman shuffled toward the back of the shop, moving past shelves crowded with dusty jars. She stopped at a faded image on the wall—something so ordinary Shin would have overlooked it a hundred times. Her wrinkled hand pressed against the edge, and with a quiet creak… scrape, the surface shifted.
It wasn't just decoration. The image bent and blended with the wall so seamlessly that it was almost invisible, like the paint itself was part of the disguise. With a push, it slid aside, revealing a dark staircase leading down.
Shin stared at the opening for a moment, the shadows swallowing the bottom steps. Then, before the old woman could say a word, he started walking.
The air inside the stairwell was different. Cold, heavy, damp. Each step down echoed faintly—tok… tok… tok—swallowed by silence. The walls were close, the stone rough, carrying the faint smell of earth and something metallic underneath—like rust, or old blood.
Shin's chest tightened as he descended. The deeper he went, the more the air pressed on him, grim and suffocating, as if the staircase itself resented his presence.
Then it hit him.
A prickling sensation at the back of his neck. The hair on his arms stood straight. Someone was behind him.
His body tensed, but before he could turn—
THWACK!
A sharp blow struck the base of his neck. His vision exploded white, his legs buckled, and the world tilted sideways.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
A dull ache throbbed at the base of Shin's neck as he stirred awake. His eyelids felt heavy, but slowly, the haze lifted.
-
Dim lighting filled the room, shadows stretching long across bare stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of dampness and something sour—sweat, maybe. He pushed himself up, back against the cold floor, and finally took in the sight around him.
Children.
Dozens of them. Some were already on their feet, glancing around with the same unease that churned in his gut. Others were only just waking, rubbing at their eyes, groaning softly. A few still lay motionless, though the rise and fall of their chests said they were only unconscious.
Fifty, maybe sixty—he couldn't be exact, but the number was enough to unsettle him.
"…Where the hell…" Shin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Bits and pieces of memory clicked into place. The old woman. The staircase. The suffocating air. That sudden blow had dropped him into darkness.
And then this.
No, not just this. The way it happened. He hadn't been carried here the normal way. He would have woken up during the move. He would have felt it. But there had been nothing—only black, and now here.
Which left only one answer.
"Teleport," he whispered to himself, his brow furrowing. "A Psychic-type. They must've used one to move us all here."
Around him, a few kids began murmuring to each other, but it died quickly under the weight of fear. One boy with messy hair kicked at the wall, muttering curses. A girl no older than ten hugged her knees, eyes wide.
Shin stayed quiet, pressing himself into a corner. He didn't move, didn't speak. His eyes followed everything, but he gave nothing away.
Time crawled.
Nearly an hour passed before the stillness broke. Five more children appeared out of thin air with a faint stumble as their bodies reformed. Teleport—again.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the heavy door creaked open
Five Team Rocket grunts stepped in, pushing metal carts that rattled with each movement—rattle… clank… clatter. Shin's eyes caught the gleam immediately—Pokéballs. Dozens of them, stacked neatly on each cart.
The grunts arranged the carts with metallic screeches, then turned and left.
Twenty more Rocket members entered after, boots striking thud… thud… as they lined the walls like shadows.
Minutes dragged. Then—
tok… tok… tok…
Footsteps.
Domino stepped through the doorway.
Her boots clicked sharply with each step—tok… tok…—until she reached the center. She lifted her whip.
CRACK!
The lash split the air like thunder. The sound echoed through the stone chamber, rattling the silence.
Every child froze.
Domino smiled. "Good. You're all listening."
Her voice hardened. "Welcome to Team Rocket. From this moment forward, your lives are no longer your own. You belong to us. And should you ever—"
CRACK!
The whip snapped again, the echo, crawling across the walls.
"…betray Team Rocket, your only path… is death."
The children gulped audibly. Some trembled, others clenched their fists.
Shin kept calm, eyes narrowing slightly. A few others held firm as well. The rest cowered.
Domino's smile curved again. "Now then. Enough of the warnings." She gestured at the carts. Pokéballs rattled softly inside.
"You have five options. Zubat. Ekans. Koffing. Spearow. Geodude. Each of you will choose one, and one only."
"Begin."
The first nervous child shuffled forward, shoes scraping.
Shin's eyes sharpened. The system flared quietly to life, lines of hidden potential appearing before him. Aptitude. Ceiling. Growth.
This choice would decide everything.