The announcer was in hysterics. "Oh, my! In a twist of irony, a tide of murky water has nearly swept the field clean! It looks like the referee got away in time, but someone should check upon our security!" In a more muffled tone, he could be heard shouting into the back of the room: "We have more security, right?"
The people in the crowd were also yelling wildly, some in ecstacy at receiving a better show than they were promised, some in terror of the life-threatening levels of power displayed within the arena, but most, with jubilation for what had just happened. Kenta looked around until he spotted one of the major camera crews, and pointed a finger at them as they continued to record.
"I know you're watching, Arcada! And you too, Mr. Kurisawa! And all you faceless weasels who make up G.R.I.P.! Up until now, I've been in hiding, just like you. But I'm not hiding anymore. You kidnapped my friends- no, much more, you stole everyone's pokémon! I don't care how you try to justify it, or how you paint those who stand against you like a troublemaker. You wanna make me out as a terrorist? Well, I won't take hostages, but I will make demands. RELEASE our pokemon, or I won't hesitate to use force. That's the only language you understand!"
The stadium erupted into cheers and applause. Aside from an exceptional few, every member was a pokémon enthusiast, still rooted in the old ways. As the fanfare continued, another figure that walked out from the west gate of the collosseum, followed by a lumbering, fearsome-looking Swampert. All voices hushed, for he was the one who had sent forth the Muddy Water tidal wave that had saved Kenta. He surveyed the field for a moment, then raised both arms as he addressed the crowd.
"My name is Brendan Birch!" he shouted. "And I am on Gold's side!"
Another trainer emerged onto the field, this time from the east side of the arena. It was the purple-haired female Champion of Herron, followed by her younger sister. She also raised her voice so that it reverberated off the stadium walls.
"My name is Rosette Cedars! And I am on Gold's side!"
The microphone in the announcer booth gave a sudden shriek, and instead of the announcer's voice, another came through, strong and confident.
"My name . . . is Red. I am on Gold's side." He paused, then spoke again. "And that's MY Venusaur on the field!"
True to his claim, Venusaur had suddenly perked up and looked around expectantly, having heard his true master's voice.
"Well, Steven?" asked Kenta, looking across at his former opponent on the other side of the field. "You're awfully quiet. Don't you have anything to say?"
There was another electical screeching noise, this time, from the scoreboard. The faces of the trainers were gone, having been replaced by a live feed to what looked like a trainer bedroom with multiple pokémon dolls. The background was difficult to determine, for most of the screen was taken up by the face of a young woman in her twenties. She had long and curly black hair, and wore contacts that made one of her eyes impossibly blue, and the other, impossibly green. She glared at the camera, so that it appeared she was glowering down upon the trainers below.
"Don't speak, Steven," she said quickly and curtly. "Out of admiration for you, I will speak now, lest let the pressure of this crowd impair your good judgment."
Kenta stared up at the screen, confused. "Uh . . ." He glanced around. "I think I missed a step. Who is this?"
Blue, who had just come out onto the field riding his Blastoise, glared up at the screen with his arms crossed. "Damn that woman. She interrupted my entrance."
"Jenn." Red's voice issued again over the loudspeaker. "That's her Champion name, anyway. She's the person Blue beat before I cleared the Elite Four."
"What?!" Brendan stared up at the screen in surprise. "You mean . . . she's the Steven of the Kanto region?"
"In the loosest sense, yes," snarled Blue. "If Steven was an arrogant bitch."
Jenn smiled humorlessly. "That hurts, coming from you, Blue," she said smoothly. "But let's not make this a personal thing. It's bigger than any of us."
"Agreed," said Kenta, his eyes now glued to the screen. "Speak, then. Why are you here?"
"I want to talk reason," replied Jenn. "I knew there would come a day when someone like you would pull a stunt like this, using the very rhetoric you've spouted. The fact is, I've even rehearsed for it. So let's put aside G.R.I.P. and rebellion for a second, and just talk about the natural way things used to be between humans and animals. In short, we used them. We may have befriended a few dogs, cats, and horses, but the rest, we turned into food and tools. We could do that, because we were stronger and more numerous than them.
"That forever changed, when pokemon came to be. They now easily outnumber us. Quite a few species are more intelligent than us. And frankly, the vast majority of them are stronger than us. We have all become proverbial lion tamers, but sooner or later, the lions will get over their fear of the whip. Don't you think it might be better to end this facade on our own terms than facing a worse alternative?"
Kenta blinked, confused. "Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You think we should stop catching and training pokemon because you're afraid they'll all gang up on humanity otherwise?"
"Humanity is no longer at the top of the food chain," said Jenn pointedly. "Or, for that matter, anywhere near it. When the collective pokemon world begins to realize that it has been set against itself for decades, battling for our petty amusement, its wild anger will turn righteously on us. We're in for the worst war we've ever known in the history of human existence . . ." Jenn raised a finger pointedly. "Unless we take steps to offset it now. G.R.I.P. has taken the first of those steps. For instance, I trust you've seen the televised rehabilitation that they have done to former trained pokemon?"
Kenta gave a barking laugh. "Ha! Are you still using that tired narrative? Steven here was sure that his Metagross was in some program to go back to the wild, as a kind of pokemon ambassador. Funny thing though- I found him in the possession of a guy from Orre, hundreds of miles from his native Hoenn habitat, in the middle of a damn desert. You wanna tell me what that was about?"
Jenn shrugged and gave a small, less-than-pleasant smile. "I don't claim to know every little detail of the rehab program. But I do know that the Steel-type is one of the few that can survive desert conditions, unaffected by even the worst of sandstorms." Her smile widened. "Oh, by the way, I thought you looked familiar. You say that you took that Metagross from a trainer while in Orre? Please, indulge my curiosity: does this mean you succeeded in stealing the Snag Machine after all, Kenta Nyna?"
Kenta's body went rigid. The surrounding crowd in the stadium stared on at him, entirely silent for the last few minutes, not even daring to cough. For a second, Kenta's eyes were veiled, but he spoke in a poisonous whisper that could be heard by all.
"You whore for G.R.I.P. . . . do you think you can just look down and call me the thief?" Kenta produced a concealed pokeball and tossed it skyward. Dragonite emerged, wearing a custom-made camera that fitted snugly into his horn. Kenta pointed upward, and the dragon pokemon ascended without a moment's hesitation, sending a blast of wind through the seats.
"I'll show you who's guilty of stealing. Red! Override the feed!"
Jenn's face disappeared from the scoreboard, replaced instead by a bird's-eye view of Indigo Stadium, via Dragonite's camera. The orange dragon circled around once overhead, then turned north and bulleted in the direction of Indigo PokeCenter- which connected directly to the Elite Four stairwell.
Brendan gasped sharply and looked urgently up at Kenta's platform.
"Hey! Order Dragonite to turn around. I saw something in the video!"
Kenta glanced worriedly at him, but touched his ear and muttered under his breath. Abruptly, the Dragonite-camera on screen spun around and returned Indigo Stadium to view.
"What, Brendan?" Kenta asked sharply. "I'm about to show the world what those lying bastards are hiding in the Elite Four HQ!"
"Just keep watching. There! You see that?"
On screen, the sky was filled with the dots of distant flying pokemon. On the ground, a subtle dust cloud had formed as multiple armored vehicles moved along the road. In a moment, everything became clear: a mobile reconnaissance force was swiftly bearing down on the stadium, ready to engage any and all trainers who had disrupted the event. Some people in the crowd began to cry out in fright.
Kenta narrowed his eyes. "So that's why Jenn wanted to keep me talking. What did I say, Red? Force is the only language they understand."
"Good thing it's a second language to me," Red boomed grimly over the loudspeaker. "This is it, everyone! If you came only as a pedestrian, leave now before you get caught up in the crossfire. If you're here to make your stand, then get ready for battle!"
The people in the crowd were also yelling wildly, some in ecstacy at receiving a better show than they were promised, some in terror of the life-threatening levels of power displayed within the arena, but most, with jubilation for what had just happened. Kenta looked around until he spotted one of the major camera crews, and pointed a finger at them as they continued to record.
"I know you're watching, Arcada! And you too, Mr. Kurisawa! And all you faceless weasels who make up G.R.I.P.! Up until now, I've been in hiding, just like you. But I'm not hiding anymore. You kidnapped my friends- no, much more, you stole everyone's pokémon! I don't care how you try to justify it, or how you paint those who stand against you like a troublemaker. You wanna make me out as a terrorist? Well, I won't take hostages, but I will make demands. RELEASE our pokemon, or I won't hesitate to use force. That's the only language you understand!"
The stadium erupted into cheers and applause. Aside from an exceptional few, every member was a pokémon enthusiast, still rooted in the old ways. As the fanfare continued, another figure that walked out from the west gate of the collosseum, followed by a lumbering, fearsome-looking Swampert. All voices hushed, for he was the one who had sent forth the Muddy Water tidal wave that had saved Kenta. He surveyed the field for a moment, then raised both arms as he addressed the crowd.
"My name is Brendan Birch!" he shouted. "And I am on Gold's side!"
Another trainer emerged onto the field, this time from the east side of the arena. It was the purple-haired female Champion of Herron, followed by her younger sister. She also raised her voice so that it reverberated off the stadium walls.
"My name is Rosette Cedars! And I am on Gold's side!"
The microphone in the announcer booth gave a sudden shriek, and instead of the announcer's voice, another came through, strong and confident.
"My name . . . is Red. I am on Gold's side." He paused, then spoke again. "And that's MY Venusaur on the field!"
True to his claim, Venusaur had suddenly perked up and looked around expectantly, having heard his true master's voice.
"Well, Steven?" asked Kenta, looking across at his former opponent on the other side of the field. "You're awfully quiet. Don't you have anything to say?"
There was another electical screeching noise, this time, from the scoreboard. The faces of the trainers were gone, having been replaced by a live feed to what looked like a trainer bedroom with multiple pokémon dolls. The background was difficult to determine, for most of the screen was taken up by the face of a young woman in her twenties. She had long and curly black hair, and wore contacts that made one of her eyes impossibly blue, and the other, impossibly green. She glared at the camera, so that it appeared she was glowering down upon the trainers below.
"Don't speak, Steven," she said quickly and curtly. "Out of admiration for you, I will speak now, lest let the pressure of this crowd impair your good judgment."
Kenta stared up at the screen, confused. "Uh . . ." He glanced around. "I think I missed a step. Who is this?"
Blue, who had just come out onto the field riding his Blastoise, glared up at the screen with his arms crossed. "Damn that woman. She interrupted my entrance."
"Jenn." Red's voice issued again over the loudspeaker. "That's her Champion name, anyway. She's the person Blue beat before I cleared the Elite Four."
"What?!" Brendan stared up at the screen in surprise. "You mean . . . she's the Steven of the Kanto region?"
"In the loosest sense, yes," snarled Blue. "If Steven was an arrogant bitch."
Jenn smiled humorlessly. "That hurts, coming from you, Blue," she said smoothly. "But let's not make this a personal thing. It's bigger than any of us."
"Agreed," said Kenta, his eyes now glued to the screen. "Speak, then. Why are you here?"
"I want to talk reason," replied Jenn. "I knew there would come a day when someone like you would pull a stunt like this, using the very rhetoric you've spouted. The fact is, I've even rehearsed for it. So let's put aside G.R.I.P. and rebellion for a second, and just talk about the natural way things used to be between humans and animals. In short, we used them. We may have befriended a few dogs, cats, and horses, but the rest, we turned into food and tools. We could do that, because we were stronger and more numerous than them.
"That forever changed, when pokemon came to be. They now easily outnumber us. Quite a few species are more intelligent than us. And frankly, the vast majority of them are stronger than us. We have all become proverbial lion tamers, but sooner or later, the lions will get over their fear of the whip. Don't you think it might be better to end this facade on our own terms than facing a worse alternative?"
Kenta blinked, confused. "Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You think we should stop catching and training pokemon because you're afraid they'll all gang up on humanity otherwise?"
"Humanity is no longer at the top of the food chain," said Jenn pointedly. "Or, for that matter, anywhere near it. When the collective pokemon world begins to realize that it has been set against itself for decades, battling for our petty amusement, its wild anger will turn righteously on us. We're in for the worst war we've ever known in the history of human existence . . ." Jenn raised a finger pointedly. "Unless we take steps to offset it now. G.R.I.P. has taken the first of those steps. For instance, I trust you've seen the televised rehabilitation that they have done to former trained pokemon?"
Kenta gave a barking laugh. "Ha! Are you still using that tired narrative? Steven here was sure that his Metagross was in some program to go back to the wild, as a kind of pokemon ambassador. Funny thing though- I found him in the possession of a guy from Orre, hundreds of miles from his native Hoenn habitat, in the middle of a damn desert. You wanna tell me what that was about?"
Jenn shrugged and gave a small, less-than-pleasant smile. "I don't claim to know every little detail of the rehab program. But I do know that the Steel-type is one of the few that can survive desert conditions, unaffected by even the worst of sandstorms." Her smile widened. "Oh, by the way, I thought you looked familiar. You say that you took that Metagross from a trainer while in Orre? Please, indulge my curiosity: does this mean you succeeded in stealing the Snag Machine after all, Kenta Nyna?"
Kenta's body went rigid. The surrounding crowd in the stadium stared on at him, entirely silent for the last few minutes, not even daring to cough. For a second, Kenta's eyes were veiled, but he spoke in a poisonous whisper that could be heard by all.
"You whore for G.R.I.P. . . . do you think you can just look down and call me the thief?" Kenta produced a concealed pokeball and tossed it skyward. Dragonite emerged, wearing a custom-made camera that fitted snugly into his horn. Kenta pointed upward, and the dragon pokemon ascended without a moment's hesitation, sending a blast of wind through the seats.
"I'll show you who's guilty of stealing. Red! Override the feed!"
Jenn's face disappeared from the scoreboard, replaced instead by a bird's-eye view of Indigo Stadium, via Dragonite's camera. The orange dragon circled around once overhead, then turned north and bulleted in the direction of Indigo PokeCenter- which connected directly to the Elite Four stairwell.
Brendan gasped sharply and looked urgently up at Kenta's platform.
"Hey! Order Dragonite to turn around. I saw something in the video!"
Kenta glanced worriedly at him, but touched his ear and muttered under his breath. Abruptly, the Dragonite-camera on screen spun around and returned Indigo Stadium to view.
"What, Brendan?" Kenta asked sharply. "I'm about to show the world what those lying bastards are hiding in the Elite Four HQ!"
"Just keep watching. There! You see that?"
On screen, the sky was filled with the dots of distant flying pokemon. On the ground, a subtle dust cloud had formed as multiple armored vehicles moved along the road. In a moment, everything became clear: a mobile reconnaissance force was swiftly bearing down on the stadium, ready to engage any and all trainers who had disrupted the event. Some people in the crowd began to cry out in fright.
Kenta narrowed his eyes. "So that's why Jenn wanted to keep me talking. What did I say, Red? Force is the only language they understand."
"Good thing it's a second language to me," Red boomed grimly over the loudspeaker. "This is it, everyone! If you came only as a pedestrian, leave now before you get caught up in the crossfire. If you're here to make your stand, then get ready for battle!"