The voice from inside the office was calm, but it carried a weight that seemed to press against the closed door.
Elias's hand froze an inch from the knob. This wasn't a police officer. The tone, the cadence—this was something else. He remembered Sarah's urgent warning: Do not engage the Gym Leader unless absolutely necessary.
He leaned closer, the mask filtering the sound but not the intensity.
"A boy with a Croconaw came to my gym yesterday. He was… passionate... and talkative. He spoke of a group in black and green, doing something in Deviel Cave. So I got into it. I searched for them, asked for them, and all in one day, I found out that the same group is hiding inside my city."
There was a soft, metallic click. The sound of a pokeball being enlarged, but not thrown.
"Now, you'll be coming with me to answer for what you've done to this city."
Elias processed the information. The "boy with a Croconaw" could only be Shan. He must've evolved his Totodile. His actions in Deviel Cave had consequences that rippled farther than he'd imagined. And now, the Gym Leader himself was here, ahead of schedule, in the heart of the compromised safehouse. Marly was not just pinned. She was captured. The extraction had just escalated from dangerous to nearly impossible.
His primary directive was clear: extract Marly. The secondary directive: do not engage Kieve.
But Kieve was between him and the objective.
Elias's mind presented him with a series of rapid-fire assessments. Police outside. Two diversionary grunts likely overwhelmed. Driver waiting. One exit.
He saw the path as a problem. The solution involved removing the obstacle. The obstacle was Kieve.
Do not engage the Gym Leader unless absolutely necessary.
This, he calculated, was necessary.
He made a decision.
He turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.
The office was a small, windowless room lit by a single flickering fluorescent tube. Filing cabinets were overturned, papers strewn across the floor. Marly was pressed against the far wall, her face pale, one arm cradling her ribs. Her lab coat was stained with black liquid, and her hair was messy.
Gym Leader Kieve was a tall man in his late forties. A long, brown coat was put over his shoulders. He is wearing a police uniform and he carried himself with authority. His hair was steel-gray and cropped short, his face lined and stern. He held a pokeball loosely in one hand. His eyes, a sharp and assessing blue, flicked from Marly to the door as Elias entered.
"And who are you supposed to be?" Kieve asked, turning his attention fully to Elias.
Kieve and Elias stood in the oppressive silence of the ruined office. The flickering fluorescent light buzzed, casting jagged shadows. The air grew thick, heavy with the promise of violence. Elias felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation travel up his arm—a slight tremor in his gloved hand. He stared at it, perplexed. His pulse was elevated and his senses hyper-alert. Was this an emotion Anne had spoken of? The one that called fear?
Kieve took a single step forward. The floorboard creaked under his boot, the sound absurdly loud. His eyes never left Elias's masked face, reading the tension in his posture.
Just as Kieve's shoulders tensed to move, the door behind Elias burst open.
A figure stumbled in, breathing hard. Anne stood in the doorway, her pink pigtails disheveled. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had been running.
Her eyes, wide and frantic, swept the room. They landed first on Marly, cowering against the wall, then on the imposing figure of Gym Leader Kieve. Finally, they snapped to the masked, trench-coated figure standing between her and the Gym Leader.
For a split second, confusion warred with recognition in her gaze. The coat was identical. The stance was eerily familiar. But the mask… the cold, inhuman presence…
"Are you…" She breathed, then shaked her head. He couldn't be here, her mind screamed. He's on his own mission. This is someone else. A commander? "You! Whoever you are, I know you're one of us. Cover me, and I'll help Miss Marly escape."
Elias gave a single, sharp nod to Anne. He raised his hand towards Kieve. In his gloved palm, Krokorok's pokeball gleamed under the flickering light.
Kieve's stern eyes narrowed. He didn't reach for his own pokeball in answer. Instead, he let out a slow, measured breath, his stance shifting from combat-ready to something more like an interrogator.
"Before I put you and your pokemon down, you will answer me. What is the name of your organization? And what is its goal?"
Anne froze, halfway to Marly, her eyes darting between Elias and Kieve.
Elias stood perfectly still, the pokeball still raised. Kieve was asking for understanding. And understanding was, in his own twisted way, what Elias sought.
So, he gave the truth as he knew it.
"Team Xycle." He stated. "The goal is to break the cycle of conflict. To create peace. By any means necessary."
"Team Xycle? Break the cycle? Peace?" Kieve repeated. "I see... so you were just like those criminals."
He finally moved raised his hand, his fingers closed around a pokeball.
"I am Gym Leader Kieve, the Wall of Talroc. And I will stand in your way."
The moment crystallized. Two hands, two pokeballs, raised in the cramped, tense space.
"Go!"
"Hitmonchan!"
Two beams of light erupted simultaneously, striking the cluttered floor. Krokorok materialized in a low, snarling crouch. Across from it, Kieve's pokemon landed with a soft tap. It was a Hitmonchan, its red gloves gleaming like polished leather. It stood with a boxer's relaxed poise, its eyes sharp and focused.
Elias felt it immediately—a pressure in the air, a weight of experience and trained power radiating from the Hitmonchan. It was leagues beyond Krokorok. This wasn't a battle he could win.
But winning wasn't the objective. The objective was time. Every second he bought was a second for Anne to get Marly out the door.
"Krokorok, use Sandstorm."
Krokorok roared, and a vortex of stinging, blinding sand exploded outward. The tiny room became a hellscape in an instant. Papers and debris became shrapnel. The fluorescent light vanished behind a swirling ochre curtain. Anne cried out, shielding her eyes as she dragged Marly to the side.
Kieve's voice cut through the roaring sand, calm and clear.
"Navigate it, Hitmonchan."
Hitmonchan closed its eyes, its head tilting slightly. Its powerful legs bent, its gloved fists came up in a guard.
Elias saw the futility. A sandstorm was a weapon of confusion and attrition. Against an opponent that could simply wait it out, it was a waste of Krokorok's energy. He needed to force an engagement, to create an opening for a more decisive, delaying action.
"Use Dig, Krokorok."
Krokorok, trusting its trainer implicitly, plunged its claws into the floor. The metal erupted, and Krokorok vanished into the dark space beneath the office.
Silence fell, abrupt and heavy. Hitmonchan remained motionless, eyes still closed, listening.
Kieve's gaze was fixed on the hole in the floor.
"He'll come from below. Be ready."
One second. Two.
Then, the floor directly under Hitmonchan erupted.
But it wasn't an upward strike. Krokorok burst from the floor beside Hitmonchan, its jaws already glowing with dark energy—a Crunch aimed not at the body, but at the ankle.
Hitmonchan's eyes snapped open. It was fast, impossibly fast. It pivoted on its leading foot, the Crunch tearing through air where its ankle had been. Its other leg, coiled like a spring, lashed out in a lightning-fast Low Kick.
Thwack!
The kick connected solidly with Krokorok's jaw. The force was staggering. Krokorok's head snapped to the side with a pained yelp.
But Elias had anticipated a counter. The dig had been a feint within a feint. Krokorok, even as it reeled from the blow, used the momentum of the kick to spin. Its powerful tail, hardened like iron, swept in a low, devastating arc—Iron Tail.
It wasn't aimed at Hitmonchan. It slammed into the floor around the pokemon's feet.
CLANG!
The thin layer of metal beneath gave way completely. With a shriek, a section of the floor collapsed, dropping both pokemon into the sub-level darkness.
There was a crash, a snarl, and then… silence.
Elias stood at the edge of the newly created pit, staring down into the blackness.
Kieve's eyes were now locked on him, seeing not just a masked grunt, but a trainer who had just sacrificed his own pokemon's safety for a slim chance at the mission.
"You know that cannot win this battle. Why resist?"
"Yeah... I can't win." Elias finally speak for the first time since getting inside the office. "But that's not my goal here. I'm here to help my people escape."
Kieve's eyes widened. He turned around and saw that Marly and Anne are not behind him anymore. In their place was a hole. A hole made by Krokorok. He turned around again, and saw Elias already halfway below the ground, a new hole made by Krokorok again.
Kieve moved with incredible speed, lunging across the room to grab Elias before he could vanish completely. His hand closed around the rough fabric of the trench coat's sleeve, but he was a fraction of a second too late.
From the darkness below, Krokorok surged upward. Its jaws clamped onto the back of Elias's coat and yanked. Elias dropped into the hole, pulled from Kieve's grasp.
Kieve stumbled forward, reaching into the void. Krokorok let out a guttural roar, it swung its tail in a sweeping arc.
CRASH-BOOM!
The impact shook the entire sub-level. Dust and debris billowed upward. The hole was now sealed with immovable scrap metal.
Kieve stood over the sealed pit, his fists clenched at his sides. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the distant sounds of police sirens.
He had been outmaneuvered. Not by superior strength, but by ruthless tactics. The masked grunt hadn't been trying to win a battle. He had been using the battle as the ultimate distraction. While Kieve's attention was locked on the fight, the other two had escaped through a hidden tunnel Krokorok had dug. And then the grunt himself had followed, using the collapsed he'd engineered as his own escape hatch. His Hitmonchan was probably still there, but it's probably deep down and cannot hear his command.
A grim respect, cold and unwanted, settled in Kieve's chest. This "Team Xycle" was more dangerous than he'd thought.
***
Below, in the pitch-black tunnel, the only light came from the soft glow of Elias and Anne's comm watch.
They were running. Anne in the lead, one arm supporting a gasping Marly. Elias brought up the rear, his mask still in place, his breathing even. In front of them, Krokorok bulldozed through a rubble, its claws scraping against concrete, clearing the path it had pre-dug for just this possibility.
"You… you planned that?" Anne panted, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the silent figure behind her.
Elias didn't answer immediately. He was listening, ensuring no pursuit came from the sealed hole far behind them. Finally, his filtered voice replied:
"I didn't... Krokorok did. It told me that there's an abandoned tunnel in the sub-level... just need a little clearing."
"Told you? Pokemon can't speak."
"They can't... Krokorok didn't actually speak, It told me through our bond."
Anne shook her head, a hysterical laugh bubbling in her throat. Elias was here. This was definitely him.
They followed Krokorok's path for several more minutes, the tunnel gradually sloping upward. Finally, they reached a dead end—a heavy, circular metal hatch. Krokorok looked back at Elias, who gave a sharp nod. With a powerful shove of its shoulder, Krokorok popped the hatch open.
They emerged behind the dumpster in the alley. The transport truck was still there, its engine now idling softly. The driver saw them and flashed the headlights once.
"Go." Elias said to Anne and Marly. "Get in. The driver will take you to the next extraction point."
"What about you?" Anne asked, hesitating. "And your Krokorok? It's hurt."
Elias looked down at his pokemon. Krokorok was favoring one leg, and a dark bruise was forming along its jawline from the Low Kick. It met his gaze with a stubborn, loyal gleam in its eyes.
"We have a different path." Elias said. He recalled Krokorok to its ball, the red light a brief beacon in the dark alley. "My mission here is concluded. Yours continues. Go."
Anne wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the urgency in the driver's eyes and Marly's pained whimper decided for her. She helped Marly into the back of the truck, then climbed in after her. She shot one last, complex look at Elias before the door slammed shut.
The truck pulled away, its taillights disappearing into the maze of the industrial district.
Don't give me that look. Elias thought as he turned back towards the chaos.