"Damian. That joke isn't funny."
Cynthia shut him down immediately.
A swimsuit? If she were simply spending a day at the beach on her own time, she wouldn't mind. Swimsuits were normal beachwear. But Damian wasn't asking in good faith, and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
"What a shame." Damian shrugged, completely unbothered. "Guess you're not feeling very generous today."
"Damian, I'm trying to talk to you seriously."
Cynthia's brow tightened.
"Could've fooled me," Damian said, lazy as ever, then flicked a hand toward Tapu Fini. "Hey, Shell. Help me out."
"Fini?"
"Rub my legs."
Tapu Fini blinked, then immediately looked offended.
"Fii-ni!"
"Eat later," Damian said without looking at her. "All you think about is food. Keep it up and you're gonna get chunky."
"Fini! Fini!"
Tapu Fini puffed out her cheeks in protest—then, grumbling the whole time, reached out with both hands and started massaging Damian's thighs anyway.
Damian adjusted his oversized sunglasses, laced his fingers behind his head, and sank back like he was settling in for a long nap.
He was drained. After the… exhausting night he'd had with Lusamine, he could admit it: some people did not run out of energy when they hit their prime. If anything, they doubled down. Keeping up had been brutal.
Cynthia watched him lounge there like he didn't have a care in the world and went briefly speechless.
Did he seriously have zero concern she might strike first?
Her grip on her Poké Ball tightened—then loosened—then tightened again.
Finally, she exhaled.
She couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to attack from behind.
Because she was Cynthia.
"Damian," she said, slower now, voice settling back into calm, "a trainer like you shouldn't throw your future away in Team Rocket. It's… a waste."
She still couldn't understand his choice, but she meant every word.
"And Caitlin—tell her this. Next time we meet, I'm taking her back to Sinnoh. Even if I have to stake everything on it."
With that, Cynthia turned to leave.
Running into Damian had been unexpected, but this beach was packed with tourists. There were too many people, too many bystanders—any battle here could spill into real harm.
"Cynthia," Damian said, and the easy tone vanished.
She paused.
"Not everyone gets your kind of life."
Cynthia looked back.
Damian nudged his sunglasses up just enough to show his eyes—two different colors, one so red it looked like it had been dipped in blood. He stared at her like he'd finally decided to stop playing.
"You don't get it," he said. "You're one of the lucky ones. People like you—'perfect' people—you never had strings on you."
His voice stayed flat, but the words landed hard.
"Caitlin and I did. We were puppets. Team Rocket cut the strings. Gave us a different life."
Cynthia's brow stayed knitted tight.
Team Rocket was an evil organization. She didn't buy the idea that they'd done anything out of kindness. If they wanted Damian and Caitlin close, it was because they wanted their power.
"At the end of the day," Cynthia said, "they're using you."
Damian gave a short laugh and pulled his sunglasses back down.
"Maybe," he said. "Sure."
Maybe?
Cynthia's confusion deepened. The more she tried to map him, the less he fit.
"Leave," she said after a beat. "Stay in that place long enough and it'll drag you down with it. You'll sink into it until you don't even recognize yourself."
Dark environments didn't just stain you—they rewired you. That was the terrifying part.
"Team Rocket isn't changing us," Damian said, voice level. "We're changing Team Rocket."
Cynthia's eyes widened despite herself.
"Changing it…?" She stared at him. "What are you and Caitlin planning?"
For the first time, she felt it clearly: she'd been looking at this too simply. This wasn't some impulsive decision. Damian and Caitlin had a goal.
Damian's mouth curved faintly.
"Wait and see." He settled back into the chair again. "I'm taking a nap. You wanna join me?"
"…."
Cynthia held his gaze for a long moment.
This young man wasn't just frightening because of talent and strength. His mind was worse—deep, sharp, unreadable.
Team Rocket might've thought recruiting him was a win.
Cynthia wasn't so sure it was a good idea for them.
She left.
She hadn't gotten answers, but she'd learned something vital: Damian and Caitlin had a purpose inside Team Rocket.
So what are you two really after?
Cynthia decided she'd speak to Kukui again about searching for Team Rocket. She was the Sinnoh Champion—she couldn't stay in Alola indefinitely. If she still couldn't find Caitlin after a little more time, she'd have no choice but to return home.
Another day passed.
Today, the artificial island of Aether Paradise welcomed a very special guest.
"Lillie."
A thin man in a colorful lab coat and green sunglasses bowed with practiced respect to the girl in the white dress.
Faba—one of the Aether Foundation's branch chiefs.
And standing in front of him was indeed Lillie.
After her talk with Damian, she'd finally made a decision.
She couldn't keep running.
As a daughter, she couldn't keep hiding from her mother.
If she had something to say, she had to say it to Lusamine's face.
"Faba…" Lillie's voice came out small. "Is Mother… doing well?"
Now that she was here, staring at the familiar surroundings of Aether Paradise, the dread she thought she'd buried crawled right back up her spine.
"The President has missed you," Faba said smoothly. "And Gladion, as well. She's been waiting a long time. Please—get in the car."
He'd watched Lillie grow up, but he was an Aether Foundation official. He wasn't about to step into Lusamine's family business.
Lillie didn't answer.
She clutched her bag and got into the car.
The vehicle carried them toward Lusamine's mansion.
Soon, they arrived.
Lillie stepped out and stood in front of the doors.
The entrance was exactly as she remembered.
She lifted her hand—
—and noticed it trembling.
No. I can't run away anymore.
Lillie bit her lip, drew in several deep breaths, and forced the fear down.
Then she pushed the door open.
Nothing inside had changed. The décor. The air. Even the staff.
Lillie walked in.
A moment later, she stopped.
A mature blonde woman sat on the living room sofa, calmly sipping tea.
"Mother…"
"You're back," Lusamine said, voice steady. Her gaze was steady too—almost disturbingly calm.
Lillie shivered.
And yet, she noticed something else—something off.
Lusamine looked… healthier. Her complexion seemed more flushed, more radiant, nothing like the bone-deep coldness she'd carried before.
Has Mother been taking something? Supplements…?