Green let out a sharp cry, narrowly dodging Hitmonlee's extending kick.
Hitmonlee's legs were like springs—stretching and snapping back as though it had eaten a Gomu-Gomu Fruit. Every strike propelled more than twenty meters outward. Despite being a Pokémon specialized in close-range combat, it launched long-range attacks effortlessly using those terrifying legs.
A violent gust sliced past Green's ear. A strand of her hair was severed cleanly, cold sweat sliding down her cheek.
BOOM—!
A massive boulder beside her shattered under Hitmonlee's strike from tens of meters away, fragments raining like shrapnel across the forest floor.
The falling stones stung her skin, but compared to the situation she was in, pain was the least of her concerns.
What terrified her was—
She had been discovered.
"Tbh. I thought I could sneak around unnoticed… didn't expect to get caught by the Elite Four."
Green cursed inwardly, tension tightening her chest.
Before the Elite Four began acting publicly, Green already had leads on their movements. Silver, who had been secretly investigating in Johto, discovered that Lance had contacted someone, hinting at a plan to control a legendary bird Pokémon.
When Silver passed this information to Green, she immediately thought of Ho-Oh and Lugia. But Silver knew too little—no exact target, no method.
So Green began her own covert investigation. Her goal was to uncover which Pokémon the Elite Four intended to control and how.
When she was five, she had been kidnapped by someone who used Ho-Oh to capture her.
If the Elite Four were targeting Ho-Oh, she might finally find clues about that event—maybe even learn how Ho-Oh was controlled.
Know the enemy, know yourself—Green didn't know the phrase, but she understood the meaning.
She needed information. Only then could she prepare for a future confrontation with the one who took her away.
But despite her caution—
They still found her.
And ambushed her without warning.
If Hitmonlee is here… then this must be Bruno.
No—never assume it's only Bruno. If two or more of the Elite Four are present, even one mistake could cost my life.
Hitmonlee, failed in its sneak attack, retracted its leg and bounded across tree branches, rapidly closing in.
Green didn't hesitate. She threw a Poké Ball.
Blastoise materialized, and Green leapt onto its shell. Using Hydro Pump as propulsion, she rocketed through the forest canopy, using branches and terrain to weave and escape.
Unlike Red or Blue, brimming with confidence, Green knew clearly—she could never overpower the Elite Four alone.
Her plan was never to fight.
It was to run—
and call for help.
She yanked out her Pokédex. No time for long messages. Fingers shaking, she typed only two characters meaning Help. She sent it directly to the one person she trusted to save her—
Logan.
Location sharing on.
Just doing that calmed her heartbeat, even as Hitmonlee chased behind.
Fear shrank, replaced by a fragile thread of confidence.
Red and blue were captured because they were reckless and overconfident.
But not me. I'll survive until Logan arrives—then I'll be safe.
Green focused, directing Blastoise's water jets precisely to maneuver midair.
If only I had a Flying-type…
Forget that. Not the time. After this, I'll overcome my fear of bird Pokémon. I must. And I want to know—how did they control those legendary Pokémon? How did that person control Ho-Oh back then?
Thoughts raced. Reality chased faster.
After ten exhausting minutes of nonstop flight, Blastoise's speed slowed. Hydro Pump sputtered. They fell, landing on a massive trunk, panting hard.
"Blastoise—recover your water! Quickly!"
Blastoise's reserves weren't infinite. Continuous jet propulsion had drained its internal supply. Water-types could convert stamina into water, but it required time.
"Thankfully we outran Hitmonlee. While Blastoise recovers, he shouldn't—"
Her expression froze.
"…Why only Hitmonlee? If he's relying only on it, he'll never catch us…"
Green's eyes widened. Her stomach dropped.
"…No.
He's underground!"
No pursuer from air. None on land.
That left only—
Below.
"Damn it—Blastoise, stop recovering! We need to move! Now! They're coming from—"
A boisterous laugh echoed through the forest.
"You figured it out at last, little girl! Too late!"
The earth trembled violently. The massive tree they stood on splintered apart, bark exploding into fragments. Soil erupted.
Something colossal tore out of the ground—
Steelix.
"KYAAAH—!"
The massive serpent blasted upward with brutal force. Green was flung high into the air, her body spinning wildly. Blastoise was hit directly at a weak point on its shell, cracks splintering across it as the turtle was hurled aside.
Green soared more than ten meters above ground. She pulled out a Poké Ball to summon another Pokémon as a cushion—
—but a leg shot toward her like a whip.
Hitmonlee was already here.
Its spring-like leg snapped outward, striking Green's wrist viciously. Without the protection of a Pokémon aura, her delicate bones snapped with a sickening crack.
The Poké Ball slipped from her fingers, tumbling away.
Green could swear she saw Jigglypuff's panicked face inside the translucent sphere.
But there was no time for pain—or thought.
Hitmonlee's leg twisted midair in a grotesque rotation, bending like a corkscrew—
and slammed into her stomach.
"GUH—!"
Her organs twisted. Her vision swam.
Blood flooded her throat and spilled from her lips.
Hitmonlee's kick sent her soaring even higher. Pain drowned everything. She couldn't even lift another Poké Ball. If she hit the ground from here—
she'd be crippled.
Captured.
Helpless.
"…How the hell are those legs trained…"
Green bitterly accepted her fate. Darkness crept at the edge of her vision. Only willpower kept her conscious.
Then—
a sonic boom split the air.
Her unbroken left wrist was suddenly seized by a firm grip.
Her falling body slowed—then stopped.
Someone had caught her.
Held her.
A familiar voice, tinged with teasing, reached her ears.
"So quick to give up?
That's not like you at all, Green~~"
The tension left her body in an instant. Strength drained with it. She collapsed into that warm, solid embrace like a puppet whose strings had been cut—and clung to him desperately.
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