Chapter 212: Groudon: Giovanni, How Do I Learn to Fly?
Mammon's castle.
"Gotta hand it to you, old man — you actually got Kyurem moving."
Mammon was lounging on the sofa with Concordia settled against his side, a Rotom Phone floating in the air in front of him. Giovanni's face occupied the screen. Video call.
"Mammon. Don't let this get out of hand. That Kyurem is extremely powerful."
Giovanni had flagged the Kyurem situation to Mammon before they'd gone to find it — and Mammon had told him not to worry.
"Relax, old man. It's fine."
He'd already had Reshiram conceal its presence, with Dark Mewtwo providing an additional layer of cover. As long as Reshiram stayed hidden, Kyurem had no way to track it down.
And if it couldn't find Reshiram — it would go after N's Zekrom instead.
"Mammon." Giovanni's tone shifted slightly. "Can Kyurem actually absorb Reshiram and Zekrom?"
He'd been turning it over since Kyurem left. The words — they need to come back where they belong — only made sense one way.
"Correct. With the DNA Splicers, Kyurem can fuse with either of them. They're all part of the same original being."
In the games, at least, the Splicers were a required component. In this actual world, Mammon wasn't certain — because there were precedents. In the anime, Necrozma had fused with Lunala without any device at all, just raw force of will, even though the games required a specific fusion item for the same process.
So who knew. But the baseline answer was yes.
"I see." Giovanni's expression was thoughtful. "You're interested in Kyurem."
"Of course. You know me, old man — I'm always interested in powerful dragons."
Giovanni smiled and said nothing.
You're interested in powerful dragons. Sure. I'll let you have that one.
"Fine. Just be careful. And—" He glanced at Concordia, tucked against Mammon's side, and seemed to reconsider whatever he'd been about to say. "—never mind."
You boy. Show some restraint. How many is that now.
But there was no point. Even if he said it, it would go in one ear and out the other. Mammon had two priorities in life: his career and women, in that order. Nothing was going to change that.
"Since you enjoy this hobby so much," Giovanni said instead, with a pleasant smile, "do it properly and give me a grandchild or two. Silver and I would both appreciate that."
His mood was actually quite good, all things considered. Under Mammon's direction, Team Rocket was thriving. And his own role was simple — spend time with the League's people, enjoy the scenery, let Mammon handle the organization. It suited him perfectly.
So yes. He was looking forward to grandchildren.
Silver had taken the news of Mammon's affiliation badly, but he hadn't collapsed — he'd channeled it straight into intense training. The boy was convinced he was going to defeat his older brother someday and drag him back to the right side. Very Silver of him. He'd probably make an enthusiastic uncle, too.
"Got it, got it."
"Take care of yourself."
"Old man, go climb a wall — I'm in perfect health."
"You little—"
Giovanni looked at his phone. The call had ended. Mammon had hung up on him.
He set the phone down, shaking his head, somewhere between exasperated and amused.
That boy.
Giovanni settled at his desk and began polishing his Poké Balls, thinking through the schedule.
"End of year — Elite Four challenge. Secure the Champion's seat in Kanto first."
His days were genuinely relaxed right now. The traveling, the guest appearances at League events across different regions — those were pleasant, but not demanding. The real business on his calendar was the Elite Four challenge, which he'd applied for back at the start of the year.
His original plan had been modest. Fight to the top of the Elite Four, stop at the top position — claim the leadership of the Four, but not the Championship. He wasn't entirely sure he could guarantee a win against the Dragon Master in a straightforward battle, and unnecessary exposure wasn't wise.
Then he'd caught Groudon.
The plan was changing.
"Once Goodshow retires, I could apply to become President of the Kanto Pokémon League."
A small, private smile.
He turned the Poké Ball containing Groudon between his fingers. With Groudon, a number of things became considerably more convenient. Kanto League Presidency, combined with Team Rocket's established branches across every major region — the entire world, gradually, within his and Mammon's reach.
"GIOVANNI! When are we going to go fight our idiot son the fat fish?!"
"I just had another nightmare! Damn it all! It WATERLOGGED me!"
"Giovanni, do you think I could learn how to fly? If I could fly, I'd have such an easier time against the fat fish—"
Giovanni was quiet for a moment.
Groudon, apparently, had just woken up from a nap and was transmitting its immediate thoughts without filtering them. The sleepy, half-groggy indignation was coming through clearly.
Since returning from Giant Chasm, Groudon had developed what appeared to be a fixation on the question of whether it could fly.
Giovanni genuinely did not understand this.
You are the Continent Pokémon. Ground-type. Primal Groudon. Your domain is the land. This is what you are.
They didn't need to fly. They were Giovanni and Groudon — the earth and its master, together. They could bring down anything that flew. That was enough.
"Giovanni, why aren't you saying anything?" Groudon asked, genuinely puzzled.
"I was thinking," Giovanni said, composing himself. "In Paldea, there's a technique called Terastallization that changes a Pokémon's type. If you Terastallized into Flying-type, you might be able to lift off. I'm not sure it would work. But we could try."
He said this with a thoughtful expression.
"Really?!" Groudon's voice went noticeably brighter.
"It's not certain. But it's worth looking into."
"GIOVANNI!!"
The enthusiasm coming through the psychic link was immediate and overwhelming.
"Giovanni, you really are my perfect partner! Don't worry — when you die, I'll scatter your ashes into the lava pool where I soak, and I will be with you FOREVER — yo!!"
Giovanni lost his composure briefly.
"…That won't be necessary."
He kept his face very still.
Companionship. You're offering me companionship. In your lava pool. You want to soak with my ashes.
I will not be examining this further.
The night deepened.
"Two hours and thirty-seven minutes."
Caitlin was sitting against the wall. She looked at the time, then looked at the wall between her room and the adjacent one, which had finally gone quiet.
Twenty minutes longer than yesterday.
Those two women.
Couldn't they show some consideration for Mammon? They were becoming more demanding by the day.
"I'll get up early tomorrow and have the staff prepare something fortifying."
Caitlin thought about it and set an alarm on her phone.
Mammon was young and in good health, but that was exactly when preventive care mattered most. She wasn't going to let certain reckless behavior compromise his constitution.
Caitlin was very attentive to Mammon's wellbeing.
Next door.
"I'm going soft," Mammon observed quietly, staring at the ceiling.
He meant it. Since moving into this castle, he'd been thoroughly enjoying himself, and he was self-aware enough to notice.
He had no particularly good defense. Anthea and Concordia were — the word "extraordinary" felt accurate, and they'd both been entirely willing to—
Okay. Not going down that road.
"Mammon?"
Anthea stirred when she felt him shift, looking up at him from the crook of his arm with a faintly confused expression.
"Go back to sleep. I have something to take care of."
"I'll come with you."
Concordia was already reaching for her hair, smoothing the golden strands back, voice soft.
"Stay. Rest."
Mammon pulled on his robe and padded out to the sitting room. He opened a Poké Ball.
"Mmmm~ Mammon, wassup~"
Jirachi blinked at him with star-patterned eyes, rubbed its face, and yawned enormously.
"Bad sleep again?"
Mammon picked the small creature up and gently pinched its cheek.
"Your fault," Jirachi said, with remarkable directness for something that had been asleep thirty seconds ago. "You and those two girls — so loud. I could hear everything. From inside my Poké Ball."
"..."
Mammon had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
"Jirachi. Do you know Victini?"
Subject change.
"Victini?" Jirachi tilted its head. "The fire mouse?"
"You actually know it."
Mammon blinked. He'd honestly just asked on a whim — Jirachi had spent most of its existence asleep, seven days every thousand years.
"Of course I know it! Mammon, honestly, underestimating me — I know lots of Pokémon!"
Jirachi planted its tiny hands on its hips and lifted its chin with great dignity.
"Jirachi is incredible, I'm genuinely impressed. Can you locate Victini?"
"Hehe~ easy easy, leave it to me~"
Jirachi floated up, closed its eyes, and the tag on its head began to glow with a faint light. The Eye of Truth on its stomach slowly opened.
A complex wish would have cost significant energy. Simply locating a specific Pokémon — manageable. An extra hour of sleep would cover it.
The Eye of Truth closed again. Jirachi projected a glowing map in the air in front of Mammon, one small finger pointing to a specific location.
"There, Mammon~!"
"Perfect. Jirachi, you're amazing."
Mammon committed the location to memory.
"Obviously~!"
Jirachi's expression was absolutely radiant. Helping Mammon genuinely made it happy. Most days its role was fairly decorative — beloved mascot, shoulder ornament — but moments like this one, when it could actually contribute, were satisfying in a different way.
Outside the Opelucid City prison, two guards made soft sounds and crumpled to the ground. A dark shape materialized beside them.
Zoroark. And behind it, a green-haired young man walked steadily forward.
"I'm sorry." N looked at the unconscious guards with genuine regret.
He didn't have another option.
He'd done his reconnaissance. The path to where they were holding Ghetsis was clear in his mind — a special high-security cell — and he reached it without serious difficulty. The guards who came to stop him were dealt with one by one, quickly and without unnecessary force. They were not remotely a match for a Champion-tier trainer, and N didn't make them suffer for it.
The warden had already called the League. Response teams were on their way.
They wouldn't arrive in time.
"N!!"
Ghetsis saw him through the bars and his composure broke entirely — something raw and relieved flooding his face.
"Father. Let's go."
Zoroark's claws found the cell door and tore it open.
Ghetsis walked out free.
N moved fast, Ghetsis beside him, out through the corridors and into open air. Above them, Zekrom descended through the dark sky, ready to carry them clear.
And then—
ROOOARR!!
A deep, violent draconic cry rolled in from the far distance. Low, powerful, utterly unlike anything local.
Zekrom's head snapped up.
Its eyes locked onto the horizon.
For a moment it was completely still.
Oh no.
It's actually here.
"N!!" Zekrom's voice came through the psychic link — and for the first time N had ever heard it, there was genuine, unfiltered fear in it. "We have to run. Right now. Kyurem is coming!!"
(End of Chapter)
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