Three down, two to go.
Kenta was in a dark room, blacker even than the longsleeve shirt and pants he was wearing to avoid detection. He had done well up until this point. After being shot almost dead, revived, and nursed undercover, he had gone on the offensive. With Bolt and Zapdos always hiding nearby, he had bought himself some new clothes, dug up some old information, and signed himself up for the upcoming Pokémon League tournament. If his research was correct, his old pokémon team was still standing by in the League's holding facility. Where exactly that was, he couldn't be sure, but the League Record Room would doubtless hold some answers. Thus far, he had managed to book a room, slip past some light security, and patter through three of the Elite Four arenas. The only trouble he'd received was in Koga's arena, where he'd tripped over an invisible cord and had to duck to avoid an oncoming spider web. Koga's Ariados emerged from the shadows to subdue him for good, but then Bolt had struck from above and smashed the large spider to the floor with a well-aimed Aerial Ace. Kenta was grateful; having the Salamence nearby was like having a personal drone that looked out for his safety. Now they walked together, unchallenged through Bruno's chamber, and into the unnatural darkness that was Karen's domain.
A light appeared on the stairway leading to the next room. Kenta's heart sunk as he recognized it as the flicker of a lit match. A woman's soft laughter emerged from the dark.
"Are you lost, child?" she said. "That is, if you stumbled past the guard and all this way by accident."
Kenta cursed his luck, which seemed to abandon him at the end of need, and prepared his mind for battle. "I'm here to look into the status of my challenge team, as is my right," he answered steadily.
"And you came all the way out here to do that?" she asked in an amused voice. "All you have to do is access any public computer, and simply type in your password to receive that information. Or are you going to tell me that you forgot your password?"
She was right. It was a lousy excuse, and Kenta knew it. Now that he had been caught, he could try to lie his way out of the situation and try again another night, or he could fight this woman on the spot, and risk raising the alarm. Or . . . he could take a giant gamble to his harm or favor- and tell the truth. She was, after all, toying with him.
"I didn't forget my password," he replied. "It's only two letters long: Au. Ringing any bells?"
The lights lifted, revealing the form of a long-haired woman in a one-piece black dress. Karen, Dark-type specialist of the Elite Four. "Golden bells," she replied, smiling slyly at her would-be trespasser. "Hello, Kenta. Your voice has gotten deeper. And you seem a little less . . ." She put a finger to the tip of her nose, as if pondering for the word. "Well, less dead than the media portrayed you as being."
"So you remember."
"I remember any Pokémon Master that's beaten me." Karen crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks in a mild pouting manner. "Although I can't say our battle was very amusing. All you used was a Heracross."
"Don't be upset with me," Kenta said, raising his hands innocently. "You told me to try winning with my favorites. Well, Heracross is one of them." He turned his tone serious. "I also remember what you said right before that. 'Strong pokémon. Weak pokémon. That is only the selfish perception of trainers.' Take a look at the world now. G.R.I.P. doesn't seem to view potency as subjectively as you do."
Karen snorted and turned around, stuffing her lighter in her pocket. "We'll see about that. They've already expanded restrictions from the Uber tier of pokémon to partially include the Over-Used tier."
Kenta smiled grimly. "Good thing you're part of the program, or you'd be at risk of losing your dear Umbreon."
"I'm not with G.R.I.P.!" Karen shot back, turning around and looking at him, uncharacteristically serious. "Nor are any of the Elite Four. Only the Champion has a political obligation to go along with it, and he does so reluctantly."
Upon hearing this, Kenta's heart lightened a little. "I hear the Hoenn Champ feels the same way. But let's not talk about that." He looked into Karen's eyes. "You're probably wondering why I'm really here."
"And why you have a Salamence with you," Karen said, with an upraised eyebrow. "For a moment, I'd thought Lance was playing a joke on me."
"He's with me," Kenta answered quickly. "But that's not really important right now. Look, I'm still supposed to be dead, and I'd really like it if people continued to think of me that way for stealth reasons. I want to get my original pokémon team back."
"But you see, that's a problem for me," Karen interjected, pacing back and forth in front of the stairway to the next room. "I'm on watch duty tonight, and if any monkey business ensues, it's going to be my ass on the line. Not that fat slob on guard duty out front."
Kenta groaned. "This is kind of a big deal for me-"
"You didn't let me finish," said Karen smoothly. "You're a Pokémon Master, which by definition means that you've beaten a region's Elite Four at least once before. So if a Pokémon Master beats me in a battle, I won't be held quite so accountable."
"I don't want to have to fight you-" Kenta began tiredly. Up came Karen's hand to silence him again.
"You still didn't let me finish. All we have to do is provide sufficient evidence that will convince investigators that a Pokémon Master broke through the lines of defense."
Kenta blinked, surprised. "Uh . . . okay. But why help me, what are you getting out of-" He closed his mouth a third time as Karen gave him another look.
"Let me finish, and I'll tell you. The fact is . . ." She looked away from him, and tossed her hair distractedly. "There's been some strange activity going on here lately. A bunch of guys in black suits and glasses have been coming back and forth through the rooms, all with official guest tags and proper paperwork of course, but no clear purpose. And they're always carrying briefcases in both hands, as if bringing Lance literally thousands of legal documents to sign. It's just a little too fishy if you ask me."
Karen met Kenta's eye, grinning devilishly. "I'd like an excuse for a closer look."
Kenta stared at her for a couple of seconds.
"I'm done. You can talk now."
"Thanks. I think." Kenta pointed at her pokeball belt. "So how are we going to do this? Should Bolt just beat the crap out of those two right now, and you ask their forgiveness later?"
"Let's hold off my need for forgiveness as long as we can." Karen turned to head up the steps, waving Kenta on. "Follow me."
Lance's arena chamber was decorated how Kenta remembered it: statues of dragons on either side, with a retractable ceiling that gave a dazzling view of the starry night sky overhead. The Champion's throne resembled a giant chair, out of which grew a large stone Charizard roaring at the heavens. The battle floor was a different shade of cement than Kenta remembered during his battle with the dragon master, but that was to be expected, considering how much punishment his pokémon could dish out.
"Man," he muttered as they passed through, "this takes me back. Second-hardest battle of my life."
"Second hardest?" Karen echoed inquiringly, sounding interested.
"Another story for another time."
They had arrived at the double-doors of a great room that looked like a mausoleum. Kenta reached out and felt the smooth stone texture, then noticed an electronic keypad on a side banister. He twisted around and looked back at Karen.
"Hey. Can you open this?"
She gave him a look like he was crazy. "I'm not allowed back there. You're the Pokémon Master, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but last time I came through, it wasn't locked. Hmm . . ." Kenta thought for a minute. "I'm no computer hacker. I could have Bolt smash right through these doors, but that would probably trigger an electric alarm. Unless I snuff that out too . . ."
He reached for his belt and widened the Master Ball. "Karen, I'm trusting you. Don't freak out when you see this."
The burst of light that issued from the ball barely dimished as it hovered like an angel above the two trainers. Karen stared at it in dumbfounded amazement.
"Is that . . . did you . . . a Zapdos?"
"Get a storm brewing," Kenta commanded, ignoring Karen's sputtering for the moment. "After five minutes, fry this panel with a lightning bolt."
Without hesitation, Zapdos ascended straight up, and the clear night sky was soon overcast. Karen watched for a couple minutes, then finally looked at Kenta again, overtly impressed.
"Well, well. Haven't you been busy."
Kenta didn't smile. "My work hasn't even started yet. And it may be at a hitch already; there wasn't supposed to be any kind of thunderstorm tonight. This will be a thin ruse to see through, but it's better than doing it direct." He signaled to Bolt. "Get ready. The moment that lightning strikes, use your Brick Break to force those doors."
"This is a lot of risk you're taking, just to look up a few entrusted pokémon," Karen said, looking around.
"I suspect I'll be finding a lot more than just my own pokémon, wherever they really are," Kenta muttered. "My hair's starting to stand on end. Back up a few paces, get on the ground, and hold your ears."
The two of them flattened themselves below the steps, taking care to avoid any and all metal. A few tense seconds passed, and then a lightning bolt lit up the area, issuing a crack of thunder so loud that it shook Kenta's teeth. Even before the sound had died away, a blue-red bolt of scales rammed the door with the force of a freight train. Kenta heard the stone collapse, but saw nothing else, as all artificial lighting had failed in the immediate vicinity.
Kenta was in a dark room, blacker even than the longsleeve shirt and pants he was wearing to avoid detection. He had done well up until this point. After being shot almost dead, revived, and nursed undercover, he had gone on the offensive. With Bolt and Zapdos always hiding nearby, he had bought himself some new clothes, dug up some old information, and signed himself up for the upcoming Pokémon League tournament. If his research was correct, his old pokémon team was still standing by in the League's holding facility. Where exactly that was, he couldn't be sure, but the League Record Room would doubtless hold some answers. Thus far, he had managed to book a room, slip past some light security, and patter through three of the Elite Four arenas. The only trouble he'd received was in Koga's arena, where he'd tripped over an invisible cord and had to duck to avoid an oncoming spider web. Koga's Ariados emerged from the shadows to subdue him for good, but then Bolt had struck from above and smashed the large spider to the floor with a well-aimed Aerial Ace. Kenta was grateful; having the Salamence nearby was like having a personal drone that looked out for his safety. Now they walked together, unchallenged through Bruno's chamber, and into the unnatural darkness that was Karen's domain.
A light appeared on the stairway leading to the next room. Kenta's heart sunk as he recognized it as the flicker of a lit match. A woman's soft laughter emerged from the dark.
"Are you lost, child?" she said. "That is, if you stumbled past the guard and all this way by accident."
Kenta cursed his luck, which seemed to abandon him at the end of need, and prepared his mind for battle. "I'm here to look into the status of my challenge team, as is my right," he answered steadily.
"And you came all the way out here to do that?" she asked in an amused voice. "All you have to do is access any public computer, and simply type in your password to receive that information. Or are you going to tell me that you forgot your password?"
She was right. It was a lousy excuse, and Kenta knew it. Now that he had been caught, he could try to lie his way out of the situation and try again another night, or he could fight this woman on the spot, and risk raising the alarm. Or . . . he could take a giant gamble to his harm or favor- and tell the truth. She was, after all, toying with him.
"I didn't forget my password," he replied. "It's only two letters long: Au. Ringing any bells?"
The lights lifted, revealing the form of a long-haired woman in a one-piece black dress. Karen, Dark-type specialist of the Elite Four. "Golden bells," she replied, smiling slyly at her would-be trespasser. "Hello, Kenta. Your voice has gotten deeper. And you seem a little less . . ." She put a finger to the tip of her nose, as if pondering for the word. "Well, less dead than the media portrayed you as being."
"So you remember."
"I remember any Pokémon Master that's beaten me." Karen crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks in a mild pouting manner. "Although I can't say our battle was very amusing. All you used was a Heracross."
"Don't be upset with me," Kenta said, raising his hands innocently. "You told me to try winning with my favorites. Well, Heracross is one of them." He turned his tone serious. "I also remember what you said right before that. 'Strong pokémon. Weak pokémon. That is only the selfish perception of trainers.' Take a look at the world now. G.R.I.P. doesn't seem to view potency as subjectively as you do."
Karen snorted and turned around, stuffing her lighter in her pocket. "We'll see about that. They've already expanded restrictions from the Uber tier of pokémon to partially include the Over-Used tier."
Kenta smiled grimly. "Good thing you're part of the program, or you'd be at risk of losing your dear Umbreon."
"I'm not with G.R.I.P.!" Karen shot back, turning around and looking at him, uncharacteristically serious. "Nor are any of the Elite Four. Only the Champion has a political obligation to go along with it, and he does so reluctantly."
Upon hearing this, Kenta's heart lightened a little. "I hear the Hoenn Champ feels the same way. But let's not talk about that." He looked into Karen's eyes. "You're probably wondering why I'm really here."
"And why you have a Salamence with you," Karen said, with an upraised eyebrow. "For a moment, I'd thought Lance was playing a joke on me."
"He's with me," Kenta answered quickly. "But that's not really important right now. Look, I'm still supposed to be dead, and I'd really like it if people continued to think of me that way for stealth reasons. I want to get my original pokémon team back."
"But you see, that's a problem for me," Karen interjected, pacing back and forth in front of the stairway to the next room. "I'm on watch duty tonight, and if any monkey business ensues, it's going to be my ass on the line. Not that fat slob on guard duty out front."
Kenta groaned. "This is kind of a big deal for me-"
"You didn't let me finish," said Karen smoothly. "You're a Pokémon Master, which by definition means that you've beaten a region's Elite Four at least once before. So if a Pokémon Master beats me in a battle, I won't be held quite so accountable."
"I don't want to have to fight you-" Kenta began tiredly. Up came Karen's hand to silence him again.
"You still didn't let me finish. All we have to do is provide sufficient evidence that will convince investigators that a Pokémon Master broke through the lines of defense."
Kenta blinked, surprised. "Uh . . . okay. But why help me, what are you getting out of-" He closed his mouth a third time as Karen gave him another look.
"Let me finish, and I'll tell you. The fact is . . ." She looked away from him, and tossed her hair distractedly. "There's been some strange activity going on here lately. A bunch of guys in black suits and glasses have been coming back and forth through the rooms, all with official guest tags and proper paperwork of course, but no clear purpose. And they're always carrying briefcases in both hands, as if bringing Lance literally thousands of legal documents to sign. It's just a little too fishy if you ask me."
Karen met Kenta's eye, grinning devilishly. "I'd like an excuse for a closer look."
Kenta stared at her for a couple of seconds.
"I'm done. You can talk now."
"Thanks. I think." Kenta pointed at her pokeball belt. "So how are we going to do this? Should Bolt just beat the crap out of those two right now, and you ask their forgiveness later?"
"Let's hold off my need for forgiveness as long as we can." Karen turned to head up the steps, waving Kenta on. "Follow me."
Lance's arena chamber was decorated how Kenta remembered it: statues of dragons on either side, with a retractable ceiling that gave a dazzling view of the starry night sky overhead. The Champion's throne resembled a giant chair, out of which grew a large stone Charizard roaring at the heavens. The battle floor was a different shade of cement than Kenta remembered during his battle with the dragon master, but that was to be expected, considering how much punishment his pokémon could dish out.
"Man," he muttered as they passed through, "this takes me back. Second-hardest battle of my life."
"Second hardest?" Karen echoed inquiringly, sounding interested.
"Another story for another time."
They had arrived at the double-doors of a great room that looked like a mausoleum. Kenta reached out and felt the smooth stone texture, then noticed an electronic keypad on a side banister. He twisted around and looked back at Karen.
"Hey. Can you open this?"
She gave him a look like he was crazy. "I'm not allowed back there. You're the Pokémon Master, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but last time I came through, it wasn't locked. Hmm . . ." Kenta thought for a minute. "I'm no computer hacker. I could have Bolt smash right through these doors, but that would probably trigger an electric alarm. Unless I snuff that out too . . ."
He reached for his belt and widened the Master Ball. "Karen, I'm trusting you. Don't freak out when you see this."
The burst of light that issued from the ball barely dimished as it hovered like an angel above the two trainers. Karen stared at it in dumbfounded amazement.
"Is that . . . did you . . . a Zapdos?"
"Get a storm brewing," Kenta commanded, ignoring Karen's sputtering for the moment. "After five minutes, fry this panel with a lightning bolt."
Without hesitation, Zapdos ascended straight up, and the clear night sky was soon overcast. Karen watched for a couple minutes, then finally looked at Kenta again, overtly impressed.
"Well, well. Haven't you been busy."
Kenta didn't smile. "My work hasn't even started yet. And it may be at a hitch already; there wasn't supposed to be any kind of thunderstorm tonight. This will be a thin ruse to see through, but it's better than doing it direct." He signaled to Bolt. "Get ready. The moment that lightning strikes, use your Brick Break to force those doors."
"This is a lot of risk you're taking, just to look up a few entrusted pokémon," Karen said, looking around.
"I suspect I'll be finding a lot more than just my own pokémon, wherever they really are," Kenta muttered. "My hair's starting to stand on end. Back up a few paces, get on the ground, and hold your ears."
The two of them flattened themselves below the steps, taking care to avoid any and all metal. A few tense seconds passed, and then a lightning bolt lit up the area, issuing a crack of thunder so loud that it shook Kenta's teeth. Even before the sound had died away, a blue-red bolt of scales rammed the door with the force of a freight train. Kenta heard the stone collapse, but saw nothing else, as all artificial lighting had failed in the immediate vicinity.