The journey to Vermilion City was long and unremarkable one, a ribbon of pavement cutting through endless green. The landscape gradually shifted, the wild, untamed forests giving way to well-manicured fields and the occasional small town. At the very least her team had made progress with their training, Staryu's Water Gun had progressed into Water Pulse and Ralts could now make many more copies when using Double Team.
Coming into the coastal town of Vermillion City, Eliana was greeted with the scent of salt and sea, but this was no sleepy fishing village. This was a military port filled with soldiers. The air hummed with a different kind of energy, a disciplined thrum of engines and the crisp snap of flags bearing the vermilion symbol of the port authority. Massive battleships, grey and imposing, sat moored at the docks like sleeping sea monsters. The streets were clean, most pedestrians dressed in neat, practical uniforms. It was a city of order and strength, and it made Eliana's teeth ache.
(¬‿¬), Ralts passed, searching through the minds of the people in the city before shaking his head no.
Eliana raised her eyebrows,
Ralts projected a mental image he had picked it up from the thoughts of a sailor down from the docks. The Vermilion Gym, home to Lieutenant Surge, the "Lightning Solider", was apparently in cahoots with Team Rocket and had recently made a deal transferring supplies.
Eliana was curious as to just how far Team Rocket's reach was. Were all the Gym Leaders members of Team Rocket? Maybe even the Elite Four Members were a part of the group, who knows. Eliana thought about Lance as well but erased the thought from her head. There was no reason a Johto native would care enough to get involved with a Kantonian Gang, even if he was the Champion.
Anyways she should get a room at the PokéCenter, they were all tired and would like to sleep in a real bed after four days in the wild. Resting in a sleeping bag on the ground could be quite uncomfortable.
…
She found the PokéCenter easily enough, its bright red roof a beacon in the city's neat grid. Inside, the atmosphere was sterile and efficient, a stark contrast to the cheerful chaos of Fuchsia. Nurse Joy greeted her with a professional, impersonal smile, "Welcome to Vermilion City. How may I help you?"
"I need a room for the night," Eliana said, already pulling up her trainer ID on her phone.
"Of course," Nurse Joy said, her fingers flying across a keyboard. "Will you be challenging the gym tomorrow? Lieutenant Surge is always eager for new opponents."
"Perhaps," Eliana said, her tone noncommittal. She wasn't here for a badge. She was here for information, and she had a feeling the Lightning Solider's gym was a good place to start.
After settling into her room, a spartan, clean space with a view of the bustling port, Eliana sat down on the edge of the bed. Ralts curled up beside her, while Staryu sat on the nightstand, its core pulsing softly.
"Alright," she said aloud, rubbing her hands together. "Time to go hunting."
(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ, Ralts projected, a thrill of anticipation. This was the part he liked best—the quiet, cerebral thrill of the hunt, the invasion of a mind.
Eliana closed her eyes, focusing her consciousness. She sent her awareness out like a fine, invisible net, casting it over the city. She wasn't looking for anything specific at first, just listening. The minds of Vermilion City were a different texture from the ones she'd encountered before. They were disciplined, structured, full of routine and duty. Sailors thought of shore leave and home. Officers thought of supply chains and regulations. Civilians thought of business and family. Beneath it all, however, there was a current of fear. A quiet, unspoken dread that surfaced whenever the gym was mentioned.
She narrowed her focus, pulling the threads of those fears together. She followed them to a small, dimly lit bar near the docks, a place called "The S.S. Anne's Anchor." The clientele was a mix of off-duty sailors and dockworkers. She found her target in a corner booth, a man nursing a beer, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was a dockworker, and his mind was a minefield of anxiety.
She didn't need to go there in person, that would be messy and inefficient. Her abilities were strong enough to the point where she no longer had to be right next to a person to dive through their memories.
With some careful focus her consciousness drifted through the city streets, invisible and silent, until it settled over the man in the booth. She didn't bother with pleasantries. She pushed past his surface thoughts of bills and a sick Meowth and dove straight into the relevant memory.
It was from two nights ago when he was working the late shift, loading crates onto a truck. The crates were marked with the symbol of the Vermilion Gym, a lightning bolt over a shield. But they weren't the usual supplies of Pokémon food and training equipment. These were heavy, much heavier than usual. The one he'd dropped had split open, spilling not medical supplies, but gleaming, metallic components, coils of thick wiring, and canisters labeled with a biohazard symbol Eliana didn't recognized.
Before he could get a better look, two of the gym's trainers had been on him, their faces hard and their Pokémon—sleek, dangerous-looking Magnemites and Magnetons—humming with aggressive energy. They'd told him to forget what he saw, that it was just a mistake in the inventory. And he had tried, but the fear had festered.
Eliana pulled back, leaving the man with a splitting headache and a lingering sense of unease. It seemed that her destination for in the morning was the loading dock.