Pokemon system: strongest champion

"This is Team 11, reporting on the status of Subject 1!"

In the cover of darkness, a Team Rocket grunt clad in black uniform whispered urgently into his communicator, recording everything happening before him.

All the events that had unfolded between Mason and the blood-red Gyarados had been captured and transmitted to Team Rocket's experimental base, where they awaited further instructions from Professor Xiemu, the scientist pulling strings from behind the scenes.

"Has he been subdued? Could this boy be...?"

A blurry projection of Professor Xiemu flickered to life as the operatives placed the device on a nearby rock. The professor's gaze locked onto the screen, his expression freezing as Mason's face came into view.

Xiemu clenched his jaw.

That face—Mason's—was one he hadn't expected to see again. His previous plan to extract Mew's genes had been ruined by this very boy. He had assumed their paths would never cross again. Yet here he was, interfering once more.

"Don't concern yourselves with the boy for now," Xiemu said, his tone laced with both caution and calculation. "I already issued secret orders to have him kidnapped earlier. I didn't realize he was Professor Oak's assistant... and a powerful Psychic no less. Normal agents won't be able to harm him. Don't waste your time."

He gave a sly smirk.

"Besides... Giovanni seems very interested in this boy."

"Yes, sir..." The Team Rocket operatives exchanged a glance but said no more. They were already used to Xiemu casually referring to Giovanni by name, a level of boldness they dared not mimic.

"I believe this boy will head to Viridian City soon to challenge Giovanni," Xiemu continued. "Let him have Experiment No. 1. In the meantime, instruct other teams to analyze the evolution wavelength and force Magikarp to evolve. Such a shame about the modified Flash Gyarados..."

Despite his words, Xiemu's expression remained cold and indifferent, showing no genuine regret. To him, the blood-red Gyarados was just another experiment—one of many.

Suddenly, a subordinate hurried up behind him and whispered something urgent into his ear.

"Report: Subject No. 2 has escaped from the lab. We're currently mobilizing a team to retrieve it!"

Xiemu's calm demeanor shifted, his face darkening.

"You incompetent fools! Get it back immediately!" he snapped. "Do you think I have the time or patience to repeat such a transformation again?"

Unlike Subject No. 1, Subject No. 2's data hadn't been properly archived. That failure was unacceptable. Without another word, Xiemu ended the call, the transmission vanishing as abruptly as it had started, leaving the field agents stunned and unsure of what to do next.

"I'm leaving right away," one muttered.

After witnessing Mason's strength and Xiemu's decision to withdraw interest from the blood-red Gyarados, none of the operatives dared to act on their own. They understood one thing clearly now—this boy was not someone they could afford to provoke.

Though not exceptionally powerful themselves, they were obedient foot soldiers, trained to follow orders. Now that their superiors had pulled back, they retreated silently into the shadows of the forest.

---

At that very moment, Mason was kneeling by the lake, using a healing spray to treat the wounded blood-red Gyarados.

The once-ferocious creature now lay quietly, accepting Mason's care. It was a stark contrast to its earlier rampage—so calm it seemed like a different Pokémon entirely. The other Pokémon around them looked on in surprise.

The Gyarados, perhaps sensing the attention, shyly turned its head, as if embarrassed. No longer the "Evil Dragon of the Lake," its demeanor softened.

"Alright, Poké Ball, go!"

Mason tossed the Poké Ball, and the blood-red Gyarados allowed itself to be captured without struggle. The capture was clean and flawless—the Pokémon had clearly accepted him.

Mason smiled softly.

"Come out, Gyarados."

He released the Pokémon once again and used his powers to awaken and stack the Ability: Overconfidence.

Gyarados blinked in surprise, feeling a change in its own body.

If it hadn't already come to trust Mason, it might have feared this was another attempt to modify it. But Mason gently placed a hand on its scales.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you."

He projected his wave power and Psychic abilities into Gyarados' body, carefully cleansing it of the harmful genetic mutations.

Slowly, droplets of black liquid oozed from its pores.

As the liquid fell into the lake, it caused rapid contamination—bubbling, discoloration, and the death of nearby plant life.

Mason's eyes narrowed.

The toxicity was extreme.

He quickly formed a Psychic barrier to isolate the polluted water, extracting the tainted fluid and sealing it into a specialized vial. He planned to deliver it to Professor Oak in Pallet Town via the Pokémon Center in Viridian City for analysis.

Once the toxins were purged, Gyarados let out a deep, relieved sigh.

Those experimental fluids had granted it massive strength but at the cost of its sanity. It would have eventually turned into nothing more than a mindless beast.

Now, with that nightmare removed, Gyarados leaned into Mason, grateful beyond words. Mason smiled and wrapped his arms around its massive cheek, silently sharing in its pain.

His other four Pokémon stepped forward too, surrounding Gyarados with warmth and support. Each one placed a comforting paw or wing against it, and for the first time, the blood-red Gyarados shed a tear—not of pain, but of healing.

That touching moment was interrupted by a sudden rustling of bushes and the appearance of a young girl.

Startled, Gyarados immediately shifted back into a defensive posture, glaring intensely at the intruder. The girl yelped and fell backward, too frightened to move.

"I-I didn't mean to scare anyone!" she cried out quickly.

Mason turned and was surprised to see the familiar orange-haired girl with twin braids.

It was Misty—Ash's future travel companion.

"Gyarados, it's okay. Don't scare people."

The massive Pokémon reluctantly relaxed its posture. But Misty remained frozen, trembling. She had a deep-seated fear of Gyarados from childhood, and this encounter was far from reassuring.

Mason approached and gently offered her a hand.

"Are you okay?"

Misty looked up, still shaken, and accepted his hand. He helped her to her feet.

"I'm sorry... I heard a loud noise and came to check it out," she said. Her eyes then fell upon the Pokémon behind Mason, her jaw practically dropping.

Even the most "normal"-looking Pokémon among them, the Beedrill, had just earlier bested the Gyarados—Misty had seen it with her own eyes.

She stared in awe.

(How can someone my age have Pokémon this powerful...?)

The reality hit her hard. She had left Cerulean Gym to become the world's top Water Pokémon Master, yet here she was, barely making progress. The best she had caught recently were ordinary Magikarp—and even then, she avoided them, knowing they evolved into Gyarados.

"I'm Mason from Pallet Town," Mason said kindly. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Misty, from Cerulean City," she replied, still stunned. "Nice to meet you too."

After realizing that Mason was also a rookie trainer from Pallet Town, she couldn't believe the gap in their skills. She had left earlier than him, but her achievements paled in comparison.

"If you're looking for strong Water-types, there's a good waterfall over that way," Mason offered, pointing toward a distant cliff. "You might find something worthwhile there."

It was also the place where Misty would soon meet Ash. If Mason hadn't intervened, their future journey could've been drastically affected.

Being Ash's older brother, Mason always kept an eye out for him. He figured Ash was probably beginning his own journey with Pikachu by now.

---

Meanwhile, Ash was trudging along a forest path, Pikachu in tow. A rope loosely tied around the grumpy Pokémon's waist kept him from bolting off.

Ash wore a League-issued cap and a travel backpack. Thick insulating gloves covered his hands—souvenirs of his earlier encounters with Pikachu's electricity.

"Ugh!" Ash groaned and stopped walking.

He turned to face Pikachu, who refused to make eye contact.

"Pikachu, do you want to stay like this forever?"

"Naughty!" Pikachu huffed, turning his head away.

"Do you hate me?"

"Pika!" The answer came quickly—yes.

Ash gave a sheepish grin. "But I like you a lot. You're my Pokémon, right? Shouldn't we get along?"

Pikachu just yawned, unimpressed.

Ash pulled out his Pokédex. "Look, it says right here—Pokémon usually stay in Poké Balls!"

The device read out: "Pokémon raised by humans are usually stored in Poké Balls."

Ash looked triumphantly at Pikachu, but the clever Pokémon pressed another button with his paw.

The Pokédex continued: "However, there are exceptions. Some Pokémon dislike confined spaces."

Ash blinked in surprise.

"Okay then... let's compromise!"

He untied the rope and took off the gloves.

"Let's be friends. Here." He extended a finger.

Pikachu glared but didn't shock him. He didn't accept the gesture either—but he didn't walk away.

Ash's heart soared.

"I'll keep waiting for you, Pikachu," he said softly. "My brother once told me, if you love Pokémon with all your heart, even the coldest one will open up to you eventually."

Ash clenched his fist, full of determination.

"I'll make you recognize me, Pikachu! That's a promise!"

---

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