Giovanni's Command :
The dim glow of war maps illuminated Giovanni's sharp features as he studied the battlefield, each mark and line a testament to the shifting tides of war. The conflict was drawing to a close, but the real battle—the one that mattered—was just beginning.
He turned to his most trusted subordinates. "Petrel, Ariana," he began, his voice steady as stone. "Nathan and Lily Oak have been moving under Johto's watch for weeks. We suspect an ambush soon." He exhaled. "You will prevent it."
Petrel smirked, adjusting his coat. "Stealth or full assault?"
Giovanni's gaze was unwavering. "Both. Get them out alive—no matter what it takes."
Ariana nodded, her expression serious. "Understood."
He then turned to Archer. "Find Delia Ketchum. Track her. Assess her abilities."
Archer hesitated. "Sir… why her?"
Giovanni's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "She may hold the key to creating a Champion who can surpass even Oak." His voice softened, thoughtful. "A trainer that Kanto will rally behind."
As his subordinates departed, Giovanni leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. The world saw Team Rocket as criminals. That had to change. Kanto needed more than just warriors—it needed legends. And legends weren't born from criminals.
Perhaps… it was time for a new name. One that Kanto would not fear, but follow.
War Stories of the Gym Leaders
Lt. Surge:
The Battlefield is No Place for Mercy Lightning split the sky as Raichu sent another Thunderbolt crashing into the ranks of Johto's soldiers. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air. This wasn't about honor. This was about survival.
His Electrode were bombs—disposable weapons designed to maximize casualties. Morality didn't win wars. His Magneton disrupted enemy communications, forcing them to rely on messengers—messengers easily fried by his electric Pokémon.
The younger recruits hesitated, flinched at the sight of his Electrode detonating on the battlefield. Soft. They hadn't seen Vermilion burn. They hadn't lost everything.
"Sir, they're just kids—"
"So were we, once. And then Johto burned Vermilion."
Victory for Kanto was necessary. It didn't matter how it was achieved. Some called his methods ruthless. The older generation? They called him a patriot.
Agatha:
Death Comes Swiftly She moved like a phantom through the battlefield, her Gengar gliding beside her. Johto soldiers didn't scream—they couldn't. Their own shadows consumed them, suffocating them in terror.
Agatha had always been a Ghost-type master, but in war, ghosts alone weren't enough. Kanto's spectral Pokémon were limited—Gengar and its kin could not hold the front lines alone. But Poison-types?
They were perfect for war.
Her Arbok's Glare froze enemies in place, its venom sinking into their paralyzed bodies. Poison Fang melted them from the inside, reducing even armored foes to convulsing corpses.
Her Crobat was an assassin, striking unseen from the skies. Air Cutter sliced through enemy lines, and Toxic ensured that even those who escaped her wouldn't survive for long.
They tried to run, but the laughter followed them. A whisper in their ears, a shadow at their backs. And then—nothing.
A Johto soldier collapsed before her, trembling, his voice barely a whisper. "Please… mercy…"
A cold smile crossed her lips. Gengar's shadow loomed over him.
"There is none."
She had once admired Johto's trainers, their discipline, their honor. But honor didn't win wars.
Only death did.
Blaine:
Fire Against Dragons Cinnabar Island burned, but Blaine wasn't sure if it was from his own flames or the wreckage left behind by invaders. Johto attacked from the east. Unova struck from the west.
Two fronts. Two armies. One island.
His Magmar reduced enemy Hydreigon to charred husks, but for every dragon that fell, another took its place. Ninetales kept Drought active, fueling his fire-types to their peak, but Unova's reinforcements were relentless.
They thought Kanto was weak. They thought Cinnabar was an easy target.
Fools.
No reinforcements. No retreat. If Cinnabar fell, there would be no second chance.
A desperate solution had been digging in the lab's vaults—the resurrected Aerodactyl. A prehistoric nightmare, uncontrollable but vicious. The containment chamber shattered, and with a piercing screech, ancient fury took flight. It soared across the battlefield, ripping into enemy dragons, its Hyper Beam annihilating squads of Hydreigon and Dragonite alike.
Still, he was getting too old for this. Kanto couldn't fight forever.
This war needed to end—either by burning Blackthorn to the ground or forcing Johto into a peace treaty on Kanto's terms. Oak had to realize that soon.