“—outside for a free barbecue!” announced Yolanda’s voice over the speakers.

Giselle watched her friend for a moment and was amused when her friend gained a coy look. “Please make sure to thank Rocko and Dennis who will be running the stand!” she shouted.

From somewhere in the back of the stadium, a man shouted. “What?! Why me?” while another man just laughed.

Giselle wasn’t sure what that was about so she instead turned her attention to her classmates only to find them sitting or standing about. Lots of them were fidgeting and twitching like they wanted to storm outside and get into some matches of their own but they couldn’t do that.

They had the afternoon booked out for the repeat challenges and therefore needed to be at their best. A fight right before a Gym match was just asking for another failure on their record which would see their grades tank for the year.

They needed to win their matches or earn their badges this afternoon if they wanted to pass for the year.

Giselle glanced around her at her fellow… failures. The term still stung, and some of the people she thought were friends she’d caught teasing and badmouthing the students who’d failed.

They’d tried to pass it off as nothing, but when she’d pointed out that she also was a failure due to losing against Brock they’d sputtered.

If Giselle hadn’t become friends with Yolanda and the other girls who frequented Pewter, well, her social circle would be very small indeed.

Giselle continued to observe her classmates. They’d ended up spending a lot of time together with the make-up classes and training sessions that the school had offered.

They’d even been stuck in a Golden Week make-up course.

They’d spent a week of their precious holiday time at a training camp working on nothing more than themselves and their pokemon.

Despite all these similarities, Giselle knew there was still a gap between her and them, but she’d narrowed it down enough to recognise a lot of tells in people.

The match between Brawly and Brock had sent ripples through them all. Suddenly, there was a wave of doubt where there had been… well, not confidence, not after having spent a week being beaten by the instructors of the camp, but at least an understanding that they were better prepared this time around.

She overheard more than a few talking with their friends. “So do you think we have enough time to cram for this afternoon?” asked Joe.

“I’m fighting second after Giselle! Do you think there is enough time for me?” asked Tomas, who was the ace of the Institute's soccer program. He was rather strong of body, but if it wasn’t related to sport, he often faltered unless someone kept him on track.

Usually, that was the Sports Manager, but they’d taken Golden Week off, so Giselle had been forced to step in.

“Hmmmm, a last-minute cram can’t hurt too much? If we recheck which pokemon we’ll be facing at the third badge challenge, we’ll have better odds no?” countered Joe.

“Hmmm alright, do you have your notes?” asked Tomas. Giselle perked up and began to sidle up to the pair, knowing this was a good opportunity to showcase her knowledge.

“No…” sighed Joe, and Giselle pumped a fist. Yes! You could always count on Joe not keeping his notes because he actually had great recall ability! It was just that he forgot things when under pressure!

Giselle coughed to announce her presence. “You can access most of that information off of the Pewter pokenet page.”

The two boys twitched and turned to stare at her. Joe blushed and stammered out, “The p-p-pokenet page?”

Giselle continued to smile even as the pair stepped back to maintain space. Oh, come on! She hadn’t been that scary during the study sessions or the mandatory exercise programs during their week together had she?

Giselle nodded, ignoring the nerves the other boy showed, and brought out her top-of-the-line transceiver. “Indeed, here, if you check the page, you can see that Brock even lists the potential pokemon that you can face at that level! It updates rather frequently, so it's good to check which pokemon are available!” she replied as she brought up a page that showed off a large host of pokemon.

“Woah!” said Tomas. “I wish I’d known about this before the first match!” he said. “It would have made the match so much easier!”

Giselle hummed while Joe loaded up the pokenet page in question. She noted that more than a few students around their group had started to copy her.

“Hey! Check out the link that lists the pokemon type matchups! It has seventeen types listed off! Wow, Mrs Anderson is going to flip her lid when we tell her the curriculum is out of date!” laughed one kid.

“Heh, careful, she might be ol,d but she has super hearing!” warned another as they looked towards where Mrs Anderson was talking with another old woman wearing what looked like… was that a fan-made Pewter uniform?

Giselle frowned. No, she’d seen this woman once when she’d visited Yolanda on a weekend. She was a receptionist?

Giselle ignored the rather mean-spirited comments sent the old woman’s way, instead beginning to flick through the rest of the Pewter pokenet page, where she discovered there was actually a surprising diversity on offer. This page offered the usual standard fare one would expect when opening a Gym’s page.

That being, the challenge levels offered, the opening and closing times, the days of operation, and even a brief bio of the Gym Leader, but then there was so much more. The Gym had an online shop where people could buy supporter outfits which came as tracksuits, headbands, fans, jackets, and even t-shirts with Brock’s various pokemon splattered across them.

She noted that the shirts for Brock’s Tyranitar, Variant Golem, Rhyperior, and Steelix were all sold out while others had small yellow banners across the bottom stating there was limited stock left. The same was true for the toys of the pokemon along with posters.

The more Giselle dug, the more surprised she grew.

Brock had his pokemon roster listed out for all stages, with there being a few surprise inclusions such as Brock now listing off an Aerodactyl as part of his second badge challenge level.

She made sure to point this out to the students that she knew were facing Brock at that level, and they turned white as they realised that grass type might suddenly be a very touchy option for them.

“Children!” shouted Mrs Anderson as she clapped her hands to get her students’ attention.

“We need to head outside, so the stadium can be cleaned up for later matches! Final review sessions can wait until then!”

“There are also free meals on offer so if you forgot your lunch—” Here Mrs Anderson gave a pointed look at two rather larger boys, Gorge and Chuckie, who were notorious for eating their meals early and then complaining at lunchtime when they had nothing to eat. Giselle had taken to keeping snacks in her bag to keep them motivated during study sessions. “—there will be more food,” Mrs Anderson finished.

Gorge and Chuckie charged through the other students towards where the barbecue was being offered causing Giselle to shake her head. Those two would do well if the school ever convinced them to take part in the Wrestling program.

“Two lines!” Giselle barked to the others, knowing that they at least would fall in and not shame the Pewter Technical Institute.

Giselle assumed her place at the front of the two lines and led them through the doors into what looked like a pell-mell of locals from all walks of life.

Ironworkers, businessmen, stay-at-home parents, and what looked like pokemon trainers all laughed and rubbed elbows with hot dogs in hand.

Giselle led her fellow students to where a line was forming, only for her work as Student representative to kick in as one of the Pewter Gym trainers wandered past.

“Excuse me, miss?” said Giselle. “Do you require any help?”

“Hmmm?” said the young woman who turned and smiled at Giselle. “Oh? No, but thanks for offering, we’re used to this and have it well in hand.” The woman’s eyes darted up and down Giselle’s form. “Good luck with your match this afternoon,” she said.

Giselle nodded, understanding that the other woman must have recognised her uniform and what it meant. Giselle nodded stiffly and tried to settle in to wait as around her the other students all mingled together only for an itch to talk or do something to come over her.

She never used to be this way. She’d happily… well not happily, but she’d used to be able to hold her poise and know it was good and proper.

Giselle glanced around, hopeful that Yolanda, Greta, or even Crystal were nearby to talk with. Sadly, that wasn’t the cas,e and instead, she caught several snippets of conversation.

“Impressive what he’s done with the Gym in the few years he’s had it,” said a businessman as he waved a hand towards the stylised entryway.

“Yup! Really made it a community hub he has!” laughed a rather rough-looking fellow that Giselle dubbed a ‘hiker’.

“I was referring more to the business. He’s selling his merchandise like ice cream on a hot day at the beach with nothing but rich school kids around,” said the businessman.

“Ha! Shows what you know!” barked the Hiker. “He spends most of that on Pewter projects! Like his conservation project up in the mountains! Gonna be a lot of rock pokemon around for everyone! Or the orphanage and the trainer program he’s set up! Reckon next year there will be at least twenty sponsored kiddies!”

“Hmmm, that is impressive,” replied the businessman. “I’ve been watching this year’s crop of students and the two top students, Humphrey and Mia? They’re doing very well. They might even trump Celia’s performance last year!”

The Hiker chewed on his hot dog for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, you gotta remember that there are people like Brawly in this year’s tournament. You need to watch who else does well against Brock this year. Although it ain’t too hard to pick, seeing as Brock has earmarked a few of them already on his pokechat pages. Also, there are still some that didn’t take part last year. Reckon there’s a dark ponyta or two in the mix.”

“I was rather hoping for some more Kanto nominations,” sniffed the businessman primly. “Brawly, Flannery, Bugsy, and Roxanne for the top four? Hmpf!”

Before the Hiker could respond, a man who looked like he’d swam through a tub of grease slid up to the other two men. “Hello there, gentlemen! I see you’ve had a rather good day! I have a proposition for—”

“Rack off!” barked the Hiker suddenly. “I ain’t selling my Season Pass to you!”

“Sir!” cried the greasy man. “I assure you, I offer top pokedollar!” he turned to the businessman and flashed a wad of cash that made even Gisell’s eyes widen.

The businessman, however, shook his head. “I only allow myself a few pleasures with my work, and I’m not giving up my pass to a scalper,” said the man before turning up his nose and walking off.

The hiker chuckled and followed after his friend leaving the ‘scalper’ to click his tongue in annoyance and approach another group.

Giselle chewed her lip and glanced towards Mrs Anderson, who, while rather old and set in her ways, had been the one to escort them for today’s matches, only for the woman to come and collect the students earlier than strictly necessary.

“Mrs Anderson, how did we get tickets for the entire class if they're hard to get?” Giselle asked, tallying up the cost against the number of students.

The school wasn’t poor by any means, but for them to spend or rather to not sell the tickets and to instead invest it on students for perhaps an hour-long match… Giselle suddenly doubted it had been the school’s efforts to get the tickets.

“Mrs Anderson,” Giselle prompted when Mrs Anderson made no move to answer or even acknowledge Giselle’s question. Gisell knew it might be rude but she also did not want to let this question bug her for the rest of the afternoon.

Mrs Anderson's head turned slowly, as if on rusted gears. Cold eyes observed Giselle from the brim of a set of half-moon spectacles. Giselle held back the urge to squirm.

“It pays to make lots of friends and to stay in touch with them,” Mrs Anderson replied cryptically.

Giselle blinked as Mrs Anderson turned away just as the line moved so that they were in front of the pair of men manning the barbecues. “Hello there ladies!” chimed a tan-looking man with bleached-blond hair. “Can I take your order?”

“I will have ten hotdogs with three of them having onions, another three will have bacon bits and cheese and finally I shall have an everything hotdog,” replied Mrs Anderson without missing a beat.

Giselle blinked in surprise, only for the hot dogs to be handed over a moment later from a prepared stack. “Here you go!” said the man.

Giselle blinked as Mrs Anderson handed her the exact order she would have made with the basic hot dog, which she could still put sauce on.

“Errrr, how did you…” Giselle trailed off uncertainly. She didn’t consider herself close with Mrs Anderson, but the woman had still guessed her order and that of the rest of the students perfectly.

“I used to be a Detective in the Police before I became a teacher,” replied the elderly woman. At Giselle’s look of shock, the older woman raised her own ‘everything’ hot dog. “I had a life before I became the hardass teacher,” snarked the woman before she walked towards a gaggle of older women who greeted her with some cheer.

Behind Giselle, some mutters broke out from the other students. “Did anyone have that option picked out on the bingo board of what she’d done before becoming a teacher?” muttered Tomas.

Joe coughed. “I had her down as a secret plant from Johto that had been raised by dragons, cause of how stern she is,” he muttered.

Giselle sighed. She’d seen the others setting up the frankly silly board of make-believe situations and had been rather shocked when they put real money towards their guesses. Giselle had stayed quiet and considered offering up her own idea to blend in, but had eventually dismissed the thought.

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Although considering she’d been the closest with her guess of a former policewoman, perhaps she should have?

She shook the thought aside only to perk up as she caught sight of Greta. “Greta!”

The brown-haired girl turned and grinned. “Giselle! Ready for your match after lunch?”

Giselle tossed her hair and turned up her nose. “I am!”

“Even though you're challenging at the same level as last time?” Greta prodded.

Giselle swallowed. “I am ready!” she announced.

Greta nodded, not pushing any further. “Sweet! I’ll be matching up against you for that match so look forward to it!” she said, locking eyes with Giselle as a smirk formed on her face.

Giselle matched her and enjoyed the thrill that ran through her. A small part of her wanted to challenge the girl here and now, drag her off to a battle court where they could start fighting straight away.

The saner, more rational part of her mind overrode those desires, if barely.

Greta relaxed, sensing the fading tension. “How’s it been for you at school?”

Giselle glanced at the students behind her who, even as they were discussing tactics for their upcoming matches, were still paying some level of attention to her.

No one was seeking her out to talk with her, not even Joe, who had a rather obvious crush on her. It had only taken Crystal one afternoon of intruding on the Institute’s grounds for the other girl to sniff that out.

Giselle glanced around. She was among her fellow students, people who had failed like she had. And she was alone. Perhaps it was her fault.

She’d tried to be the standard for others to work towards for so long. She’d studied hard, trained with her pokemon, and even taken part in multiple club activities when they needed help.

But despite doing all that, there was still a divide between her and the other students.

Her recent loss should have broken that image one would think.

Instead, it was seen as an aberration or a sign that Brock had been too tough in the match.

It made Giselle question herself.

What good was she as a standard for others to hold themselves against if she’d failed? She found that she didn’t have an answer for that and it troubled her. Was she not just a failure twice over? A worse person than those around her?

Without an answer she’d fallen back into old habits in school, trying to be as proper as she could. She applied herself in her studies, her extracurriculars. She even set up a study group with the other failures. And still...

The only times of late where she’d been able to relax were with the friends she’d made after her loss at the Gym last time.

“It’s been…” Giselle shook her head. Perhaps it was her fault for still wanting to be better or to appear upright. There was a strange link between being able to make friends and still be proper about it.

Perhaps she should have done as her mother suggested and gone to a finishing school rather than the Technical Institute.

Greta glanced back at the students. “Hmmm, how about you get away from all the noise for a bit and come check out some cute pokemon to help relax before your match?”

Giselle nodded, liking that idea.

Greta led her around the back of the Gym where they found a pack of Aron playing with a giant Aggron. “Hey Knight! Can we pet some of the Aron?” Greta had to shout to be heard over the clanks of metal as Aron occasionally bumbled into each other in their games.

The pack of Steel types turned, and Giselel suddenly felt very worried as the entire pack swarmed towards them.

Greta merely laughed and allowed them to knock her to the ground. Giselle darted out of the way of the pack, and this caused most of them to turn to the easier target. One Aron, however gained a glint in its eyes as it hounded her.

“Ar-ar-aron!” he barked, chasing her harder.

“No! I don’t want to get dirty!” cried Giselle.

“Just give up and surrender to your fate!” shouted Greta from beneath the pile of metal pokemon.

“I will not appear at a challenge looking bedraggled!” snarled Giselle as she sprinted through a bevy of boulders with the Aron in hot pursuit. It barked at her and chased hard, nipping at her heels but Giselle hadn’t been a stand-in for most of the Institute's various clubs without learning a thing or two about tough events.

She’d come second in the steeplechase with only a week’s practice after the Athletics club requested her help!

Sadly, Aron was determined and this led to her becoming separated from Greta as Giselle ran deeper into the reserve.

With her lungs burning, Giselle realised she’d need to come up with a new plan as the Aron wasn’t tiring out as quickly as she’d hoped.

She darted around a corner with a plan in mind and stepped back in close so she was almost touching the wall. When Aron came around the corner, she plucked the little pokemon off the ground.

“Guh! Got you!” she said, lifting the heavy little pokemon off its feet.

“Aron!” squawked the little brute, waving its stumpy little legs in the air only to slump in defeat when it realised it couldn’t twist around to get Giselle. “Aron!” it cried dejectedly.

Giselle nodded, pleased with herself. “Right! That’ll show you!” she said, only to look around and realise she was rather lost. She could either follow her tracks back to Greta, which was probably going to take a while, or raise a fuss and be found quickly.

Giselle put her head down and started a brisk pace back along her tracks only to discover an error in her plan. A pack of Onix had passed through and obscured her tracks.

“Oh dear,” she said as she realised she would have to… make a fuss.

She prepared to call out, politely, of course, when another voice spoke up. “You did much better than anyone else on the team could have,” said an all too familiar voice.

Giselle clamped her mouth shut and even went as far as to put a hand over Aron’s as she leaned around a boulder and found Gym Leader Brock sitting with his Tyranitar.

The mighty beast had small bandages scattered across his body and was staring across the open expanse of what had to be a training field.

Brock patted the giant’s arm gently. “In a way, I’m glad that it was you who lost first; if it had been some of the others, it would have broken their spirits. With it being you though? Well, you can show them that it’s not the worst thing.”

The Tyranitar rumbled something. “Yeah, if Don had been the first, he’d have been a menace to work with for a good while. Shin is probably the one I’d be most worried about these days, but even Bertha would be dejected.”

The Tyranitar nodded.

Brock nodded, “There’s a ton of things we picked up on, though, with you using your body in ways we haven’t really explored much in the past. We’ve been pretty reliant on pokemon moves rather than outright manoeuvres. Shin and Gawain are really the only ones that work on an actual fighting style,” mused Brock. “Might have to change that.”

Tyranitar nodded only to pause and sniff the air.

Then, the mighty pokemon turned and locked eyes with Giselle.

Giselle thought she’d be terrified locking eyes with a pokemon widely regarded as one of the strongest pokemon in the League.

Instead, she found herself staring into warm, compassionate eyes. “Tar?” rumbled the Tyranitar.

“Hmm, what’s up Titan?” asked Brock, turning and spotting Giselle. “Oh hey there! Got yourself an Aron?”

Giselle’s eyes widened as she realised how it might look, her holding an Aron like she was. She immediately dropped it on the ground. “I wasn’t trying to steal it! Greta brought me back here to spend time with cute pokemon and this one chased me!”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Brock nodded sagely. “Ready for your match in…” he checked his transceiver only for it to display the time, the weather, a calendar and a messenger app all at once. “Twenty minutes? Damn, I really let time get away from me there,” Brock said before shaking his head. “Come on, let’s get you back to the Gym.”

Giselle blinked, still caught up in looking at his rather worn but seemingly much more functional transceiver. Which model was that?

Ah, as a Gym Leader, he must have access to better models that weren’t yet on the market. She’d have to ask Yolanda about it later.

A small weight threw itself into her ankles, causing her to squawk and trip into the dirt. She shot the all-too-pleased-with-itself-Aron a heated glare. “I will be back and I will make you pay for this,” she promised, only for Aron to bark happily at her.

Brock bit his lips and led her back to the public area of the gym where he became mobbed by some local reporters. Giselle made her escape, not wanting to be seen on the news looking so worn.

Sadly, she wouldn’t have much time to do more than clean her face before her match.

This would have bothered her more before overhearing Brock’s comments to his Tyranitar. Sometimes being a leader is showing the way through tough times, and you couldn’t always get through life cleanly.

Her parents were probably going to have conniptions when they watched the recording of this match.

Hopefully, it might also allow others to feel more comfortable with talking to her by seeing her roll her sleeves up and get dirty.

Greta appeared on the other side of the arena, with dirt covering her entire body. When she smiled her white teeth stood out in stark contrast. “Ready for this?” chirped Greta as she palmed a pokeball.

“I will take great pleasure in defeating you!” Giselle announced, pointing directly at her friend. Greta’s smile only grew as she released an Aron onto the field.

Giselle twitched. “You cheeky Sableye you!” Giselle shouted. She’d known that it would have taken more than a normal low-level Aron to keep up with her!

Now it wasn’t just about winning and getting past Greta to face Brock. Now honour was on the line!

Giselle had never been more motivated to win.

Elders of the Blackthorn clan stormed into a lounge that collectively they deemed, ‘the Dragonair Den’. When everyone had entered, the door was shut.

The click of the lock almost echoed with how quiet the room was.

For a long moment, no one dared break the silence, such was the weight of it.

Words failed them after what had just been discussed.

It was perhaps a good thing then that the first noise was not speech but rather a crash to break the mood of the room.

Elder Jotaro, a musclebound Dragontamer stomped towards a table only to grasp it and flip it through the air. It came down with a loud bang and crack that signalled some part of it had broken.

It wasn’t enough to calm Elder Jotaro, however. “That dog of Kanto!” he roared.

Behind him, several other Elders of the Blackthorn clan seethed in their own ways. Several of them had been identified by a review as ‘persons of interest’ in a case that was almost a decade cold!

Only for a silly girl’s sob story to make Lance follow up with it.

“It’s simply a Public Relations ploy,” remarked Elder Fiona. “Lance is merely doing this to look good for the public. If he is willing to investigate his own family then who could question his integrity.”

“He shouldn’t have to care! He is Champion! He has won the right to direct the League and to shut down investigations!” snapped Jotaro. “Instead, he is spearheading it at us!”

Fiona sniffed. “Nothing will come of it,” she waved a dismissive hand. A few of the Elders relaxed at this but Jotaro wasn’t fooled.

“Don’t trick yourself into complacency. We’ve been caught napping and now like old dragons we find our beards plucked in our sleep while youngsters titter and make jokes of us!” Jotaro would have thumped a fist into the table but he’d already flipped it so instead he settled for snatching the table up and flipping it to rights. The table tilted horribly and Jotaro scoffed at it.

The bang of the table being rightened resounded through the room and drew the eyes of those who were lingering on the fringes of the conversation.

“We need another candidate,” Jotaro declared grandly. “Lance is not acting in the Clan’s interests! We need to cut support to him and make sure that the next Champion knows who pulls the strings of Indigo!”

This earned a few nods and murmurs of approval.

Fiona barked a laugh. “Another candidate? Where will you find such a person? Clair is practically Lance’s second in all but name! He leads and she follows! Bruce? He has shown that he doesn’t have the strength and is willing to step down. Worse! He is looking to split the clan with his push for a Gym outside of Johto!”

Before Jotaro could speak up Fiona continued. “Ah, I see what he is playing at. Lance must think himself clever.”

When this drew scowls of annoyance with waved hands for her to ‘get on with her point’ she continued. “He might just be creating this investigation so that he can learn the secrets of Aura we have been denying him.”

“What?” remarked more than a few elders. “What makes you believe that?” asked one.

“Because he must have suspected for a while now that there are higher forms of fighting. Brock has been demonstrating that with his Tyranitar for months now, but suddenly, he can do it not just with his starter but with his entire team. For Lance not to notice that? He’d be a fool, and Lance, arrogant as he might be, is no fool.”

Fiona raised a finger, weathered as it was. “I imagine that Lance has determined that certain skills and training has been denied him. Instead of placing himself in a position of supplication where he is to train under us he instead seeks a lever to pull the teachings from us. This investigation is too well timed, especially with the recent match between Brock and Agatha.”

Jotaro tapped his hand on the floor. “You think this is just clever negotiation tactics by him?”

“Perhaps,” Fiona hedged. “I also suspect he might believe he can find the texts about Aura’s true capabilities in the Archive. He has certainly been retreating there enough with Clair of late.”

Around the room, the various Elders stiffened. “If he gets those texts!”

“He won’t need us!” cried another.

Jotaro rolled his eyes, realising that for now, the others were merely props in this little game between himself and Fiona. She had stolen the show with her fanciful story but Jotaro doubted Lance had acted to assert power over them. The boy was too straight-laced. Too linear. If strength was not the main demand of becoming Champion then he might be more wily.

They were also lucky that Pryce had weakened since his days as a fighter during the war. Whatever had happened with his starter had shattered his bonds with his team of pokemon and thus, Lance had never experienced fighting against a fully trained pokemon master.

Around the room, more and more Elders began to fret and wail like mere hatchlings braying for their mothers.

Fiona raised a hand. “Calm now, calm down. I have long since hidden the texts away. He will not find them but he will find references to them if he seeks hard enough. He will then have to approach us.”

Jotaro narrowed his eyes. “Approach you more like,” he stated.

Fiona inclined her head. “I am loyal to this clan, Jotaro.”

Jotaro sniffed at the trite words. People were already leaning towards Fiona, hopefully. Jotaro could see her gambit. She would ransom the texts for them, following her lead.

The Master was starting to fail with their health. If Fiona could lock in enough votes when the time came…

“Hmph, clever but you are not getting rid of the true issue here, merely slapping a salve on a festering wound and praying the beast that cut us doesn’t strike again!” snapped Jotaro.

That caused a few of the others to remember themselves and realise that Fiona was pouring honey into their ears and they were falling for it.

“We need a new candidate to replace Lance,” he intoned, “And there is a candidate!” he stated firmly.

“Who?” remarked Fiona and the word hung in the air.

Jotaro sighed. “I have set up a long-term operation that I like to think of as Operation Pidgey.”

This earned some confused murmurs from the others. Jotaro continued. “The Crusher tribe has long been a threat to us and indeed most civilised peoples of the world. They have a unique trait however, of often sending people out into the world to gather information on the state of their potential fighters or organisations. With this in mind, they have been theorised to have a range of skill for different agents that are trained for infiltration from an early age. We discovered one even blatantly swaggering around Pewter only a few months ago. As for Operation Pidgey? I…”

Jotaro cast his eyes about, making sure that the door was locked and the windows were covered. He stood and inspected the dark emitters before settling back down. His actions did not go unnoticed as more and more people began to wonder what secret he was about to reveal to them.

Jotaro even went as far as to search each and every person’s face looking for any signs that they weren’t who he thought they were.

Only then did he continue, “Took a young girl and trained her for infiltration at an even younger age. Then, as Lance was rampaging against the Crusher Tribe’s most recent migration, I installed the girl in a position to be found. They took her in thinking she was one of theirs, but she is in fact one of ours and still sends regular reports.”

Jotaro produced a small photograph of a girl with short black hair with red eyes. “She has since been living with and training with the Crusher tribe. She has passed many of their rites of passage. In the course of her time with them, she has been asked to travel afar. She has infiltrated numerous organisations in Fiore, Hoenn, Indigo and even fed me information about another region that the Crusher tribe has access to far in the north beyond the current known wilds,” he said.

“You think this girl is still loyal to us?” barked Fiona dismissively.

Jotaro reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small remote device. He placed it on the floor in front of him. “Deals were made, and her loyalty has been programmed in by the sharpest of minds.”

The room stirred, and Fiona stared at the small remote. “Who performed the operation?” she hissed.

“Blaine was always looking for suitable candidates,” remarked Jotaro casually.

A weighty silence settled about the room. “You may have made a deal with Darkrai Jotaro,” whispered Fiona with more than a few nodding along with her.

Jotaro sniffed. “We would hold her reins, not that criminal!” he snapped, indicating the remote in front of him.

Fiona slammed her palm into the ground. “Don’t think for a moment that Blaine didn’t also install controls for himself! He is not a fool! A powerful trainer, one of our clan no less could one day become a threat! The Blackthorn Clan led many raids on his hometown, do not forget!” snapped Fiona.

“At the very least, she can be used as leverage against Lance,” snapped Jotaro.

Fiona sighed and moved forward. Jotaro twitched as though to snatch back the remote only for Fiona to take the photograph of the girl instead.

“What is her name? This girl that you would have us put our hopes on?” asked Fiona quietly.

Jotaro grinned, pleased that things were looking up for him. If he played his cards right he would be assuming the mantle of Master of the Blackthorn clan in the coming years.

“Her name is Zinnia,” he announced proudly. “And she will be our answer against Lance and any other upstarts that have begun to crop up of late,” he said.