《Daily Dose of Pokémon》 The Missing Generation (1) ¡°Phoenix, just surrender, and we¡¯ll let your families go,¡± said Draco Blackthorn. He stood at the head of over thirty elite trainers, surrounding the Ketchum and Oak families far away from the gates of Saffron City. Behind him, Ryder Oak narrowed his eyes as he shielded his wife, Portia, and their newborn son, Gary. Portia¡¯s arms trembled slightly as she clutched the baby close. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to fall so low, Draco.¡± Draco smirked. ¡°You think I brought all these people for you, Ryder? No. Only Phoenix deserves this level of preparation.¡± Without a word, Delia Ketchum stepped forward and handed four Pok¨¦balls to Phoenix. Then, with a determined expression, she gently took baby Gary from Portia, cradling him alongside her own son, Ash. That brief moment¡ªmothers, children, legacy¡ªpassed like a heartbeat. Portia¡¯s eyes flashed with resolve. She released her Alakazam, who immediately teleported Delia, and the two infants away in a flash of light. Phoenix released his most trusted partner: a battle-worn Raichu, who stood ready at his side with sparks dancing across its cheeks. Draco¡¯s smile faded. ¡°So be it.¡± He tossed his own Pok¨¦ball. A massive Dragonite emerged with a guttural roar. All around him, the trainers followed suit, elite Pok¨¦mon appearing in flashes of red light. Phoenix stepped forward. ¡°The old clans dare move against Champion Oak? You¡¯ve forgotten what my master is capable of.¡± He turned to Ryder and Portia, nodding once. ¡°Let¡¯s remind them.¡± With a surge of power, Raichu charged the ground with Electric Terrain, sparks crackling beneath their feet. Ryder and Portia ran toward the city, the electric field covering their retreat. ¡°After them!¡± Draco barked. Half the trainers broke off, chasing the fleeing couple. The remaining twenty tightened their circle around Phoenix. ¡°Raichu¡ªnow!¡± Raichu unleashed a massive Electroweb, laced with Thunder Wave, paralyzing dozens of Pok¨¦mon and their trainers. Only a few flying-types managed to dodge the attack, soaring above the chaos. It was the signal. The battle had begun. Enemy Pok¨¦mon attacked at once. Raichu blurred with Double Team, then vanished and reappeared using Agility, zipping through the battlefield as he charged his next move. Phoenix threw the rest of his Pok¨¦balls. His Dragonite soared into the sky, colliding with Draco¡¯s own in a titanic aerial clash. From the shadows at Phoenix¡¯s feet, Gengar emerged, casting Confuse Ray in waves, spreading disarray among enemy ranks. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Nidoqueen unleashed a devastating Toxic Wave, and Snorlax took position beside Phoenix, casting Helping Hand and blocking incoming attacks with its massive frame. The final member, Slowbro, emerged calmly, using Disable and Light Screen with careful precision, protecting allies and disrupting enemy tactics. Despite being vastly outnumbered, Phoenix¡¯s team held the line. Their synergy, honed through years of battle, outmatched the chaos of the enemy¡¯s disjointed forces. Above, Dragonite fought alone against Draco¡¯s fearsome aerial squad¡ªDragonite, Charizard, Aerodactyl, and Gyarados. Draco rode his own Dragonair, watching from the distance, issuing orders through clenched teeth as his pride bled away. His team was being held back by a single dragon. Time passed. Five minutes. Ten. Thirty. Phoenix¡¯s confidence faltered. Delia should have reached Master Oak by now. Ryder and Portia should have made it to the League forces in Saffron. So why¡­ why hasn¡¯t help come? His brief hesitation proved costly. Below, Gengar was weaving between enemies when a sharp voice cut through the din. A young woman stepped forward¡ªeyes cold, presence chilling. She was the young leader of Ecruteak¡¯s exorcist clan. Her ghost team struck with precision. In moments, Gengar was trapped¡ªrestrained. Phoenix¡¯s eyes widened as she began chanting. Not a move. A ritual. ¡°No¡ª!¡± But it was too late. Gengar let out a horrible screech, understanding what was happening. With its last breath, it began laughing¡ªmad, eerie laughter¡ªand unleashed Destiny Bond. The exorcist and her entire team crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Silence rippled through the battlefield. Then, realization. There would be no more holding back. Nidoqueen howled, enraged, and slammed the ground with all her might, unleashing Fissure. The earth cracked and split, swallowing over ten enemy Pok¨¦mon. The gap closed with a thunderous crash, burying them alive. Enemy retaliation was swift. A barrage of powerful moves rained down. Despite Slowbro¡¯s protection, Nidoqueen was overwhelmed. Her body fell beside Gengar¡¯s¡ªstill and silent. Phoenix clenched his fists. Two of his partners¡ªgone. Snorlax let out a deep, guttural roar, unleashing Uproar. Shockwaves blasted nearby enemies back. Its normally sleepy eyes burned with fury as it advanced, striking with wild abandon. Slowbro moved in closer to guard Phoenix, sending pulses of water and light across the field, supporting allies and hindering enemies. Raichu was beyond rage now. Electricity exploded from him in waves¡ªThunderbolt, Discharge, Volt Tackle¡ªleaving scorched ground and unconscious enemies in his wake. He became a storm, tearing through trainers and Pok¨¦mon alike. The body count rose. Dozens fell. Above, Phoenix¡¯s Dragonite retaliated with a mighty Thunder, striking Draco¡¯s Gyarados mid-air and ending its flight permanently. Then came the price¡ªthree Hyper Beams. Dragonite threw up Protect just in time, but the impact sent him spiraling. Draco watched from afar, jaw clenched. His pride as a Dragon Master curdled into something colder¡ªdoubt. Phoenix¡¯s hand shook. He hadn¡¯t wanted to use Delia¡¯s Pok¨¦mon. They weren¡¯t at the same level as his team. But now? He released Charizard, Delia¡¯s pride. It roared and joined Dragonite in the skies. Then Arcanine, Rapidash, and Flareon. Flames surged as the trio tore into what remained of the enemy forces. Phoenix stood tall, his heart aching, his team diminished¡ªbut unyielding. The battle was far from over. But from this moment forward, there would be no mercy. The Missing Generation (2) Ryder and Portia sped across the grasslands on the backs of their Arcanine and Rapidash, wind stinging their eyes, the distant silhouette of Saffron City shimmering ahead. If they could just make it inside, the League¡¯s forces could turn the tide. But the enemy wasn¡¯t giving them the chance. Flying-types pursued overhead¡ªCrobat, Honchkrow, Pidgeot¡ªbombarding them with ranged attacks meant to wound, not kill. They were herding them, not chasing. Ryder released his Pidgeot, and Portia followed with Noctowl. The two birds veered upward to intercept, locking into aerial combat, wings slicing through clouds and air alike. They pushed forward, hearts racing, until a dozen red beams flashed across the open field. Fifteen trainers stood waiting, forming a half-circle¡ªblocking their path to the city. Ryder¡¯s grip tightened on Arcanine¡¯s fur. He recognized many of them¡ªnames and faces burned into the records of the old clans. The Razzo family. The Makis. The Tanren line from Johto. He had trained alongside some. He had bested others. ¡°Damn you, Oak!¡± one of them shouted. ¡°It¡¯s all your father¡¯s fault things turned out like this!¡± Ryder¡¯s gaze locked on the speaker¡ªEnzo Razzo, heir to one of the most bitter families left behind when Samuel Oak united Kanto and Johto under a single League. ¡°You¡¯re still blaming him?¡± Ryder said coldly. ¡°Still clinging to a past that never deserved to last.¡± It had been nearly two decades since Samuel Oak became Champion, bringing the regions together and dismantling the power hoarded by the old bloodlines. He shared knowledge once locked behind the secrets of the clans. He made Pok¨¦balls accessible to all through Silph Co. He gave the world hope. Now, that old world wanted revenge. Portia pulled up beside him. ¡°We¡¯ll have to fight. If we make enough noise, the League will come.¡± Ryder nodded. ¡°Together.¡± They dismounted and released the rest of their teams. Blastoise, Nidoking, Alakazam, Rhydon joined Pidgeot and Arcanine on Ryder¡¯s side. Venusaur, Lapras, Kangaskhan, and Rapidash stood beside Portia¡¯s Noctowl¡ªher Alakazam was still with Delia and the children. They weren¡¯t on Phoenix¡¯s level, but they didn¡¯t need to be. They had experience. They had each other. And they had time to buy. The clash began like a slow burn¡ªprobing moves, feints, and defensive positioning. Neither side struck to kill. It was as if they were all waiting for a signal. Then it came. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. A screech ripped across the air. Far behind them, from Phoenix¡¯s battlefield. One of his Pok¨¦mon had fallen¡ªand then another, louder, deeper sound. Nidoking froze. His eyes widened. Then he roared. He had heard her. Nidoqueen. His mate. Her final scream. Without warning, Nidoking slammed the earth with both fists. Fissure cracked across the battlefield, swallowing a dozen enemy Pok¨¦mon before sealing the earth above them. That was the spark. Chaos erupted. Attacks became lethal. Rhydon followed Nidoking¡¯s lead, unleashing another Fissure that claimed several more enemies before he was brought down in a hail of Ice Beams and Focus Blasts. Pidgeot, Arcanine, and Rapidash fell next, each taking enemies with them. The battle raged in a storm of fire, light, and cries of fury. Nidoking pushed into enemy lines alone, roaring in grief, taking down as many as he could before falling. Meanwhile, Kangaskhan and Lapras took fatal blows without hesitation, their bodies breaking beneath the force meant for their trainers. They didn¡¯t cry out. They simply stood, bore the weight, and died so that Ryder and Portia might live a moment longer. Soon, Ryder and Portia stood amid smoke and blood with only Blastoise, Venusaur, Alakazam, and Noctowl remaining. Alakazam attempted to teleport them away¡ªbut the air shimmered unnaturally. Dark-type interference. Johto techniques. ¡°I¡¯ll stay,¡± Ryder said. ¡°Take Noctowl. Get to Saffron.¡± Portia¡¯s lips parted to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced her. Steady. Final. They embraced. Just a moment. Just enough. ¡°Take care of our children,¡± Ryder whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll see you again,¡± Portia said, though they both knew it was a lie. Noctowl rose into the sky, carrying Portia toward the city. Then came Enzo, stepping forward with two other trainers. Most of his allies were dead. By his side remained a Rhydon and a Sandslash. His cloak was scorched, face bloodied, but his eyes still burned with ideology. ¡°You weren¡¯t supposed to be this strong,¡± Enzo muttered. ¡°I hope the elders managed to kill your father. Otherwise, this was a mistake.¡± Ryder stood tall, Blastoise, Venusaur, and Alakazam forming a wall at his back. ¡°You ambushed the Champion? So that¡¯s your plan? Kill the old, erase the new?¡± ¡°We¡¯re restoring tradition,¡± Enzo snapped. ¡°Without Phoenix or you, there¡¯s no one left to inherit your father¡¯s legacy. No one to stop us.¡± ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± Ryder said. ¡°Phoenix was the legacy. He came from nothing, and still became the best within our generation. New Champions will rise from the people¡ªstronger than you, and freer than you¡¯ll ever be.¡± Enzo didn¡¯t respond. He raised his hand, and the remaining Pok¨¦mon charged. Ryder closed his eyes and reached for the bond he had with his Blastoise¡ªa dormant Mega Evolution. There were no catalysts, no mega stone, no key stone. No safeguards. Only life. And death. ¡°One last time,¡± he whispered to Blastoise. He poured his energy¡ªhis very life¡ªinto the bond. Blastoise¡¯s body glowed as the transformation began. Mega Blastoise emerged, bellowing as cannons grew from its shell, eyes shining with raw power¡ªand no restraint. It annihilated the enemy team. Rhydon, Sandslash, and the last trainer were vaporized in the blast. But the cost was final. Blastoise collapsed, its shell cracked, light flickering out. Ryder dropped to one knee, gasping¡ªthen fell beside his partner, his hand resting on the edge of the shell as darkness claimed him and he breathed his last. * Portia could see the gates now. Saffron¡ªso close she could taste it. Then came the flash. An enemy Jolteon had followed after her. Portia never saw the shimmer of light behind her¡ªonly the scream of lightning. The Thunder struck Noctowl in full. The bird cried out and spiraled, unable to keep balance. Portia screamed as they dropped¡ªcrashing in a blur of feathers and steel. They hit the ground hard¡ªjust meters from the gates. The city was within reach. But silence took her. Her fate, unknown. The Missing Generation (3) Pallet Town ¨C Oak¡¯s Laboratory The light shimmered as Alakazam teleported into the heart of the lab, psychic energy crackling in the air. Delia Ketchum stumbled forward, clutching two sleeping infants¡ªAsh and Gary¡ªagainst her chest. Her heart pounded. She¡¯d barely caught her breath when she saw them. Inside the lab, Leaf¡¯s parents, Oak¡¯s longtime research assistants, stood by the windows. One held their infant daughter, the other had a hand on young Daisy Oak¡¯s shoulder as they all stared outside in stunned silence. Delia followed their gaze. Her breath caught in her throat. Out beyond the fields of Pallet Town, a battle raged¡ªSamuel Oak, the Champion himself, stood alone against a dozen of the most powerful trainers in Indigo. Not challengers. Not rogue agents. Clan elders. The patriarchs and matriarchs of the old world. They stood in a wide circle around Oak, dressed in robes and insignia that belonged to an age long past. Behind them stood armies of high-tier Pok¨¦mon, many of them Champion-class. All of them stared down the man who had shattered their grip on power. And yet Oak¡ªcalm, unshaken¡ªstood tall. His lab coat stirred gently in the wind. The only Pok¨¦mon at his side was his Dragonite, already circling above, engaging the enemy¡¯s fliers. Then he turned. He saw Delia. Saw the babies. Saw the fear in her eyes. His voice carried across the field. ¡°You¡¯re not just attacking me,¡± Oak said. ¡°This is about Phoenix. About Ryder.¡± From the other side of the battlefield, a voice answered¡ªSalvatore Razzo, gray-bearded and grim, stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Samuel. But it has to be done.¡± ¡°Phoenix is growing too strong¡ªstronger than you were at his age. If he becomes Champion, the clans will never rise again.¡± Oak¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°So it¡¯s fear, then. You¡¯re afraid of a boy with no bloodline.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid of what he¡¯ll become,¡± said another voice¡ªGeneral Santos, clad in Johto¡¯s military uniform. His voice was cold, precise. ¡°Men without clans build their own. And sometimes¡­ they become worse than the ones they replaced.¡± Oak stepped forward. ¡°The clans have hoarded power for centuries. They caged knowledge. Controlled progress. Phoenix is what happens when the people are free.¡± A third voice cut in¡ªan older woman, matriarch of the Maki Dark Clan. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°And when the people are free, they forget their place. We¡¯ve protected these lands for millennia, Samuel. That legacy is ours to guard.¡± Oak¡¯s voice thundered like distant storm clouds. ¡°You¡¯ve protected nothing. You¡¯ve stagnated us. Our children suffer because you feared their strength.¡± He lifted a Pok¨¦ball. ¡°I won¡¯t let the old world strangle the new.¡± He threw it. The battlefield exploded in light. Nidoking emerged with a thunderous roar, stomping the ground. Then came Alakazam, Charizard, Venusaur, and Blastoise¡ªhis full team. The air itself seemed to pull away from them, as if the battlefield knew these were no ordinary Pok¨¦mon. Each had gone beyond Champion-level¡ªlegends forged in the same fire as their trainer. Together, they could hold dominion. And now, they would defend it. The enemy responded in kind. Four Pok¨¦mon stepped forward¡ªeach on the cusp of myth. A weathered but terrifying Feraligatr, belonging to General Santos. A regal, battle-scarred Nidoqueen, at Salvatore¡¯s side. A moonlit Umbreon, eyes glowing violet, led by the Maki matriarch. And a deceptively soft-looking Wigglytuff, whose fairy aura shimmered with ancient power. Behind them came dozens of Champion-tier Pok¨¦mon, summoned in waves to overwhelm Oak¡¯s team with sheer numbers. But they made one fatal mistake. They attacked Oak on his land. Nidoking stepped forward and bellowed¡ªa deep, resonant call that echoed through the valleys and forests surrounding Pallet Town. And the world answered. From the skies, a Pidgeot dove in with a piercing cry, slashing through enemy lines. Two Raticates burst from the tall grass, attacking the enemy¡¯s flanks with calculated fury. From the sea, a massive Lapras rose, singing a song that made even battle-hardened trainers flinch. And many others answered to the Champion¡¯s call. Oak said nothing. His team split as if by instinct¡ªyears of battle flowing through muscle memory. Dragonite tangled with Feraligatr, wing against claw. Nidoking collided with Nidoqueen, their clash shaking the earth. Venusaur and Blastoise took on Umbreon and Wigglytuff, slowly gaining ground. Charizard roared into the skies, hunting enemy fliers like a dragon god. Alakazam stood beside Oak, hands glowing, eyes closed¡ªwatching for anything that dared come near his trainer. The battle raged. Minute by minute, Oak¡¯s side endured. His Pok¨¦mon fought with the calm brutality of legends. One by one, the enemy¡¯s edge dulled. Umbreon fell first¡ªHydro Cannon tore through her shield, and Solar Beam followed, ending it. Then came Wigglytuff, caught in a crossfire and sent hurtling backward, her body bursting in a final flicker of light. ¡°You were always a monster, Samuel,¡± Salvatore said from across the battlefield, blood in his voice. ¡°We never stood a chance¡­¡± Oak didn¡¯t answer. The enemy forces began to crack. Some fled. Others hesitated. General Santos made his choice¡ªretreating into the ocean with his Feraligatr and remaining water-types, vanishing into the ocean. Only Salvatore Razzo remained. He recalled his Nidoqueen¡ªwounded, near death¡ªand clenched his jaw. ¡°You won¡¯t take everything, Sam.¡± He hurled three Pok¨¦balls. Golem. Weezing. Electrode. ¡°Explosion!¡± he shouted. Time slowed. Oak¡¯s team moved. ¡°Protect,¡± Oak commanded calmly. Shields shimmered around his Pok¨¦mon as energy flared in the enemy ranks. Alakazam, standing beside his trainer, raised his hands¡ªand a barrier of psychic light wrapped around the lab itself. Then came the blast. A triple detonation turned half the battlefield into a crater of smoke and fire. But Oak was still standing. His team unharmed. The lab¡ªintact. And Salvatore Razzo¡­ was gone. The rest surrendered. A few fled. Most were dead. Samuel Oak turned, smoke rising behind him. He walked toward the lab, footsteps slow but steady, his team silent beside him. The door opened. Delia stood inside, eyes red, holding both children tight. ¡°Where are Ryder, Portia and Phoenix?¡± Oak asked, voice hoarse. Delia didn¡¯t answer. She just met his eyes¡ªand slowly shook her head. ¡°They were ambushed. Outside Saffron. Forty-five minutes ago.¡± ¡°There were too many. Too many¡­¡± For a long moment, the Champion said nothing. Then, for the first time in decades, Samuel Oak paled in fear. The Missing Generation (4) The battlefield was chaos¡ªscorched earth, broken stone, and the smell of ozone and burning fur. But for a moment, with the arrival of Delia¡¯s Pok¨¦mon, it became survivable. Charizard, her pride, battled Draco¡¯s own in a swirling aerial duel of flame and fury. Below, Arcanine, Rapidash, and Flareon held the line with everything they had, bolstered by Slowbro¡¯s strategic coordination¡ªbarriers, pulses of psychic energy, healing waves. Phoenix¡¯s Snorlax barreled through enemy lines like a living fortress, shrugging off attacks as he smashed through smaller opponents. Slow but relentless. Towering. Unbreakable. And then, there was Raichu. His cheeks sparked. His breath steamed from his nostrils. The electric mouse moved like a phantom¡ªblurring between enemies, striking with ruthless precision, one after another falling to his thunderous wrath. Phoenix stood amidst it all, helpless. He wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. But all he could do was watch. His teammates¡ªhis family¡ªwere dying around him, and there was no time to mourn. Not yet. Above, Dragonite let out a roar and slammed Aerodactyl from the air with a final, devastating Outrage, sending the fossil dragon crashing to the ground in a heap of dust and blood. Draco¡¯s eyes narrowed. He clenched the last Pok¨¦ball on his belt. The battlefield paused¡ªfor just a breath. If I throw this, there¡¯s no going back, Draco thought. The Charizards, locked in a brutal melee, bit and clawed at each other in a spiral of falling flame. They hit the ground with a crash¡ªmotionless. Whether either survived was unclear. Raichu finished the last of the enemy wave near him. But it wasn¡¯t over. A second wave approached¡ªfresh Psychic-types, summoned by the remaining trainers. Their strategy was clear: overwhelm Raichu before he could recover. Across the battlefield, flying-types swarmed Snorlax, who had grown slower, bloodier, weaker. They coordinated now¡ªairborne and vicious. Snorlax looked back at Phoenix, then at the crumbling line. And he made his choice. Light surged from his body¡ªLast Resort. ¡°Snorlax¡ªno!¡± But it was already done. His form glowed gold as he charged headlong into the enemy ranks, a living comet. The explosion took half the battlefield with him. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. On the other side, Delia¡¯s Pok¨¦mon faltered. Too many enemies. Too few allies. Only Slowbro¡¯s psychic control kept them alive¡ªshielding, supporting, suppressing threats. But the enemy adapted. They split their forces, sending flanking Pok¨¦mon toward Phoenix to force Slowbro¡¯s attention away. Arcanine, Rapidash, and Flareon exchanged one last glance¡ªthen turned toward the swarm. They ignited. All three unleashed their flames in unison¡ªFire Blast, Inferno, Flare Blitz¡ªspiraling together into a burning vortex. It became a Fire Tornado, a final, suicidal move. ¡°No¡ªstop!¡± The tornado consumed them and their enemies, blazing through the battlefield like the wrath of gods. When the smoke cleared, all three were gone. Phoenix fell to his knees, hands trembling. His voice was hoarse, broken. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡± But he couldn¡¯t break. Not yet. Draco¡¯s Dragonite, wings tattered and scorched, collapsed onto the battlefield. With a flash of light, she was returned to her Pok¨¦ball. And then came the outsider. Draco hurled his final Pok¨¦ball into the air. From the light emerged a massive, foreign dragon. Gleaming scales. Crimson wings. Salamence. ¡°No¡­¡± Phoenix whispered. ¡°You¡­ traitor.¡± Around them, even Draco¡¯s own allies recoiled. Gasps and disbelief echoed across the battlefield. ¡°Draco!¡± Phoenix screamed. ¡°You¡¯re collaborating with outsiders?! From Hoenn?! Has the Blackthorn clan no pride left?!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t involve my clan,¡± Draco growled. ¡°This was my decision.¡± The Salamence roared, and within seconds, tore through Phoenix¡¯s Dragonite, who had barely recovered from his last fight. He tried to rise¡ªbut the onslaught was too much. Dragonite fell. Hard. Dead. The battlefield was a graveyard now. Only Slowbro and Raichu remained. Slowbro stood like a wall between Salamence and Phoenix, breathing heavy, tail twitching, wounds glowing red with fresh blood. You¡¯ve done enough, Phoenix thought. Please¡­ Salamence charged. Slowbro caught the attack. But he was too tired. Too hurt. And after one final effort to push the dragon back, he fell. Phoenix stood alone. Salamence turned toward him. He didn¡¯t run. He didn¡¯t beg. ¡°Raichu,¡± he whispered. ¡°One last time. Let¡¯s show them what we are.¡± Raichu¡¯s ears perked. His body trembled. Then¡ªhe shined. Electricity surged from his core, arcing like a storm given form. His fur stood on end. His body elongated, charged, strengthened¡ªnot evolving, but ascending. ¡°Just us. You and me,¡± Phoenix said. Raichu screeched and released the storm. A Discharge like none ever seen. The blast rippled across the battlefield, vaporizing trainers and Pok¨¦mon alike. It spared no one¡ªonly Phoenix, standing behind him, protected by their bond. And then¡ªVolt Tackle. Raichu became a lightning spear, hurling himself into Salamence mid-flight. Salamence roared and countered with a Hyper Beam. The two forces collided in mid-air. The sky went white. When the light faded, Salamence crashed into the earth¡ªdead. Raichu stood, barely, panting, sparks flickering off his skin. Then he collapsed. Phoenix ran to him. ¡°You did it,¡± he whispered. ¡°You did it¡­¡± And for a moment, there was silence. Phoenix turned his head. Saw nothing. Felt the claw. It burst through his chest. He gasped¡ªchoked¡ªfell. Behind him stood a hulking Feraligatr, blood dripping from its claws. Its trainer stepped forward. Military uniform. Cold eyes. ¡°Santos¡­¡± Phoenix rasped. ¡°You¡­¡± The man said nothing. He kicked Phoenix¡¯s dying body, sending him sprawling next to his unconscious Raichu. The Aftermath Smoke still hung in the air. The battlefield was littered with corpses¡ªheroes and traitors alike. Only two men remained. Major Pedro Santos stood, his Feraligatr beside him. Draco, perched on his Dragonair, bloodstained and silent. Santos spat on the ground. ¡°You traitor,¡± he growled. ¡°Allying with Hoenn scum. I should kill you where you float.¡± Draco met his eyes. He said nothing. Just turned his Dragonair skyward and fled¡ªa coward carried by a dying legacy. Santos watched him go, jaw tight. Then turned, stepping over Phoenix¡¯s body without a second glance. ¡°Fucking waste,¡± he muttered. And left the man who could have been Champion lying in the dirt beside his thunder-scorched partner. The Missing Generation (5) The wind howled across the plains where Delia had once escaped. With a flicker of psychic energy, Alakazam¡¯s teleportation pulse faded, and Champion Samuel Oak stepped into the scorched aftermath. Smoke clung to the ground like a second skin. Charred grass. Shattered stone. The metallic scent of ozone still hung heavy in the air, mixed with the stench of burnt fur and blood. Oak took a slow breath. ¡°Stay close,¡± he murmured to Alakazam. They were alone. And yet¡­ it felt like something ancient was watching. Each step cracked brittle ash beneath his boots. The wreckage around him was not just ruin¡ªit was a message. Fragments of battlefield carnage lay strewn in every direction: torn Pok¨¦balls, scorched terrain, the unmistakable gouges left by Last Resort, and craters seared with electric discharge. He paused. Bent down. Plucked a shard of crimson scale from the dirt. Charizard. Aerodactyl¡­ Salamence. Blackthorns were here. And Hoenn? His stomach twisted. Oak stepped over a charred body¡ªDelia¡¯s Charizard, wings twisted, jaw frozen in a final roar. Nearby, the remains of Arcanine, Rapidash, and Flareon lay in a formation that told Oak everything. They hadn¡¯t run. They had stood their ground¡ªfacing a threat he had yet to meet. He straightened, throat tight. ¡°Phoenix¡­¡± he whispered. He found him in the heart of it all. Phoenix Ketchum, lying beside the shattered corpse of a Salamence, surrounded by the bodies of six enemy trainers and a ring of fallen Pok¨¦mon. The ground was scorched in a perfect radius¡ªlike a storm had exploded from where Phoenix stood. And at his side, curled and faintly sparking, lay Raichu. Still alive. Barely. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Oak didn¡¯t move for a long time. He didn¡¯t weep. He simply looked. At the boy who had no name, no legacy¡ªbut became the greatest of his generation. At the partner who refused to die without him. ¡°You burned too bright, my boy,¡± Oak whispered. ¡°Too bright for this world.¡± He knelt. Pressed two fingers to Phoenix¡¯s eyelids, closing them gently. Then turned to Alakazam. ¡°Take them home.¡± A pulse of psychic energy shimmered outward. In an instant, Phoenix, Raichu, and the remnants of his fallen team vanished. Gone from the battlefield¡ªbut not from history. Oak stood. His hand gripped the hilt of a Pok¨¦ball at his belt. ¡°Dragonite.¡± A flash of light. Wings unfurled. ¡°Take me to my son.¡± The skies had turned gray by the time Oak reached the second battlefield. Dragonite descended into silence. No more roars. No more screams. Just the rustling of wind through bodies. He dismounted slowly. And walked toward the center. Ryder Oak lay amidst the wreckage, arms outstretched, eyes half-lidded toward the heavens. At his side: his Blastoise, shell split. His Nidoking, speared through the chest. Alakazam and Pidgeot, fallen in defensive stances. A dozen enemy trainers and their Pok¨¦mon were strewn around them¡ªcut down in every direction. He didn¡¯t go quietly, Oak thought. He made them pay for every step. Oak dropped to one knee. Rested his forehead against his son¡¯s chest. No words. Only silence. Only grief. The sound of boots on stone pulled Oak back to the present. He rose as a figure emerged from the smoke¡ªa man in dark blue robes, eyes shadowed beneath his hood. He bowed his head. ¡°Champion.¡± Oak tensed, but then nodded. ¡°Leader Natsume,¡± he said. The head of the Natsume Clan, Gym Leader of the Psychic line. Father of Sabrina. The man¡¯s expression was solemn, voice quiet. ¡°We found Portia outside the city gates. My Alakazam brought her to safety.¡± Oak¡¯s eyes sharpened. ¡°She¡¯s alive?¡± A single nod. ¡°Barely. She¡¯s at the hospital in Saffron. In critical condition. Comatose.¡± A pause stretched between them. Then Oak looked around¡ªat the dead, the ruined. ¡°The attackers?¡± Natsume gestured to the corpses strewn across the battlefield. ¡°Most are here. The rest fled when they realized what they¡¯d done.¡± Oak¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°They came to kill the future.¡± He turned to the lifeless field once more. And realized¡ªit wasn¡¯t just his children, it was a whole generation of Indigo¡¯s most promising trainers. There was a flicker of movement. Then, from the mists, Agatha appeared. Her cloak billowed behind her like a mourning shroud. Her expression¡ªusually stern, unreadable¡ªwas broken. Tears streaked her weathered cheeks. ¡°Sam¡­¡± she said softly, voice shaking. ¡°They went after my daughters.¡± Oak froze. He hadn''t realized. Not about Agatha¡¯s line. Not about others. How far did the clans reach? How many targets? How many families? He thought of Blaine. Pryce. No word from either. And then¡­ Alastair. His final Elite Four. A Blackthorn. A traitor. Oak¡¯s breath turned to ice. He turned toward Agatha. And for a long moment, the two legends stood in silence¡ªtwo of the last pieces of an era, surrounded by the shattered dreams of the next. Then Oak reached forward. And pulled her into an embrace. No words. Just the wind. Just the grief. When he let go, he looked back over the battlefield. ¡°We bury them. We honor them.¡± He stepped forward, the wind catching his coat. His voice dropped. ¡°Then we finish what they started.¡± He paused. The storm inside him building¡ªnot of power, but of purpose. ¡°The clans wanted war¡­¡± He looked to the horizon. ¡°They will have it.¡± A Champion鈥檚 Wrath (1) Indigo Plateau ¨C 20:00 hrs. The war room was silent. No flickering lights. No aides. No chatter from League officials. Just four figures gathered beneath a vaulted ceiling of steel and glass, where the moonlight shone faintly through storm clouds above the mountain summit. A map of Indigo burned on the central holo-table¡ªits routes bleeding red. Champion Samuel Oak stood at the head of the table, motionless. His lab coat, heavy with the weight of the day, hung loose over his shoulders. His fingers rested on a scorched field near Saffron City. Behind him, the Elite Four stood in tense silence. Agatha, arms folded tightly, her red-rimmed eyes glaring at the map. Blaine, fists clenched so tight, his knuckles white, his face hard with fury. Pryce, half-shadowed, his icy gaze fixed on the table. The fourth seat¡ªAlastair Blackthorn¡¯s¡ªremained empty. Of course it did. Oak didn¡¯t look up as he spoke. ¡°They struck everywhere at once.¡± He tapped the holo-map. Saffron, Pallet, Lavender, Viridian, Cerulean, Pewter, Mahogany, Cherrygrove, Olivine, Azalea. Red flares blinked across the grid like open wounds. ¡°Coordinated. Precise. They didn¡¯t just come for my son. They came for ours.¡± Blaine slapped a data pad onto the table. It flickered briefly before projecting the image of a young woman¡ªBlaine¡¯s daughter¡ªher face frozen in a smile. A painful contrast to the empty space that would never be filled again. ¡°My daughter,¡± Blaine¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°They ambushed her while she was on patrol. I found her body myself.¡± His hands trembled slightly, but he said no more. He didn¡¯t need to. Pryce spoke next, his voice as cold as the peaks he ruled. ¡°My eldest is dead. The younger is traveling in the Orange Islands. The only reason he¡¯s still alive.¡± Oak nodded once. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± But Pryce¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry. Be angry.¡± Agatha didn¡¯t speak right away. She stood in the far corner of the room, staring at the shadows stretching along the walls. Then, her voice, strained, but unyielding. ¡°Three daughters. Gone.¡± If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. She exhaled slowly. ¡°And my husband kept me away from Lavender. Just long enough for the clans to kill them.¡± Her hands trembled at her sides, but she held herself together. Barely. A tremor passed through her shoulders. Not from weakness. From rage. Oak exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. ¡°It¡¯s worse than we thought. They didn¡¯t go after me. They went after the next generation.¡± He turned to the table and pressed a command. More names appeared. ¡°Aqua and Mars of Cerulean Gym. Slain defending their daughters. The four girls survived, barely. They¡¯re in the care of their grandfather¡ªthe Old Dragon. But the man is near the end. He won¡¯t last more than a couple of years.¡± ¡°In Pewter, the Old Mountain fell buying time for his son and daughter-in-law. Flint now is to take over the Gym.¡± ¡°The Koga Clan fought them off. Took losses, but the heir survived. He¡¯s en route to Indigo now¡ªoffering his blades for the counterstrike.¡± He paused. ¡°Only Celadon stood untouched¡ªsaved, perhaps, by the Matriarch¡¯s neutrality¡­ or by the unremarkable weakness of her heirs.¡± Agatha scoffed, bitterly. ¡°Imagine that. Mediocrity¡ªour last shield.¡± Oak turned to the final report, his fingers trembling slightly as he read the name aloud. ¡°Ander Blackthorn¡­¡± The name hung in the air like a curse. Oak¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Third son of Alastair. Banished for following the League. He was helping with junior trainers in Viridian. He¡¯s dead.¡± A beat of silence. Then: ¡°And he had a son.¡± Oak closed his eyes. ¡°Lance.¡± Pryce¡¯s breath caught. ¡°Alastair didn¡¯t¡­?¡± Oak shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t believe so. He didn¡¯t speak to Ander. But he¡¯d never let one of his own be murdered like that. And his wife would have¡ª¡± ¡°Killed him first,¡± Agatha finished. ¡°Yes. She would have.¡± Pryce grunted. ¡°Still. Alastair turned down your summons. Sat out the whole war. Neutrality is complicity.¡± ¡°He¡¯s always been like this,¡± Blaine snapped. ¡°Schemes, positioning, waiting to see who wins before taking a side.¡± Oak said nothing. The silence stretched until Blaine finally erupted. Blaine, seething, slammed his fist on the table. ¡°Damn it, Sam! Why? Why did they do it? What could they possibly have hoped to gain?!¡± He gestured to the map. To the names. To the carnage spreading across Indigo like wildfire. ¡°Those greedy bastards couldn¡¯t handle progress. Couldn¡¯t stand a world where knowledge wasn¡¯t locked behind bloodlines.¡± ¡°They couldn¡¯t control Phoenix. Or Ryder. So they killed them instead.¡± Agatha¡¯s voice was venom now. ¡°And killed their own along the way. I read the casualty lists. More than a dozen clan heirs are dead. They sent their children to die out of pride.¡± ¡°They culled everyone, Sam,¡± Blaine added. ¡°Ours. Theirs. A whole damn generation.¡± Oak nodded slowly. His face was unreadable. ¡°A generation is gone.¡± He looked down at the table. ¡°All because they feared what we were building.¡± Pryce stepped forward. ¡°So. What are we going to do?¡± Oak turned, finally meeting their eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve already begun.¡± His voice was low. Controlled. ¡°Alakazam and Dragonite are gathering the Pok¨¦mon who owe me favors.¡± Blaine¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You mean¡ª¡± Oak nodded. ¡°Every champion-tier Pok¨¦mon, every mythical I¡¯ve helped. Every wild guardian I¡¯ve given territory and purpose. They were given peace. Now... they return the favor.¡± A stunned silence. Agatha spoke first, her voice uncertain but sharp. ¡°How many, Sam?¡± Oak lifted his gaze to the sky beyond the glass ceiling, thunder cracking like the world itself was rending. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said softly. ¡°But I will.¡± Blaine stepped back from the table. ¡°Sam... we¡¯ll follow you. But you can¡¯t take them all out in one night.¡± Oak said nothing. ¡°Sam,¡± Agatha said, her voice cracking again, ¡°even you¡ª¡± ¡°I can,¡± Oak said. Calm. Final. He turned to face them. His eyes were not those of a grieving father anymore. They were the eyes of the Champion. The one who ended the last war. Who built a new world. And now, who would burn the old one to ash. ¡°They started this.¡± He stepped forward, his lab coat billowing as the lights flickered in the wind. ¡°Tonight¡­¡± ¡°I finish it.¡± A Champion鈥檚 Wrath (2) Dragon¡¯s Den ¨C 20:30 hrs. The ancient halls of the Dragon¡¯s Den were colder than usual. Torchlight flickered across the cavern walls, casting long, serpentine shadows that danced over the carved stonework of dragons and fallen heroes. The inner chamber, reserved for clan councils and rites of power, was quiet but heavy with pressure¡ªlike the breath before a dragon¡¯s roar. Alastair Blackthorn, member of Indigo¡¯s Elite Four, stood alone at the head of the stone table, gazing into the central flame that burned in a basin of black steel. Around him sat the Blackthorn Elders, their postures rigid, their expressions drawn. Wordless. Watching. They were waiting for him to speak. But Alastair¡¯s thoughts were not on them. They were on Indigo Plateau¡­ on the man he had once called a rival¡ªSamuel Oak¡ªand on the war that had just begun. He had refused the Champion¡¯s summons. Chosen neutrality. And now¡­ he feared he had made a mistake. A whisper of movement at the door. A courier entered the chamber, robes drenched in rain, eyes wide. He handed Alastair a scroll¡ªtrembling. ¡°Urgent news from the League.¡± Alastair¡¯s jaw tightened. He unrolled the scroll, reading the stamped names. The first two stung like venom. ¡°Phoenix Ketchum. Ryder Oak.¡± Dead. The fire in the basin hissed as if responding. Gasps echoed around the room, even among the hardened elders. ¡°Oak will strike like a hammer,¡± said one of them. ¡°And if he believes we supported this¡­¡± ¡°Then neutrality means nothing,¡± another murmured. ¡°We should have stood with him.¡± Alastair said nothing. His hands, steady even in battle, now clenched the scroll tighter. From beside him, Dina Blackthorn, his wife and second-in-command, stepped forward. Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned. ¡°I told you. You should have been there. We should have sent support when the summons came. And now¡­¡± her voice faltered, ¡°now everything has changed.¡± Another elder¡ªold Andrew, the record keeper¡ªlifted his eyes from a second scroll, freshly marked with blood-colored ink. ¡°There¡¯s more, Lord Alastair¡­¡± Alastair turned. Andrew hesitated. ¡°Your third son. Ander.¡± The room fell silent again. Colder than before. ¡°He was ambushed outside Viridian City. They got to him before the League could respond.¡± ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± Alastair didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t speak. But something inside him cracked. Dina stepped forward like a storm breaking. ¡°No.¡± Her voice echoed like a blade through the chamber. ¡°Not my Ander.¡± The elder bowed his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°And what about his family?¡± Dina demanded. ¡°What about¡ª¡± Andrew shook his head. ¡°The child survived. Barely. League medics found him alone in his house.¡± Dina¡¯s hands trembled. She turned slowly to her husband. ¡°You let this happen. You let our son die. Our grandson¡ªan orphan.¡± Alastair''s lips parted, but no words came. ¡°You said neutrality would protect us. That standing aside would keep the clan safe.¡± Her voice cracked. ¡°You lied.¡± The whole room stood watching in silence. Until the chamber door creaked. All heads turned. Draco Blackthorn stood in the archway, soaked in rain, cloak bloodstained. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost¡ªand lost to it. ¡°Father,¡± he said. No one spoke. Alastair¡¯s voice, when it came, was low and cold. ¡°Where have you been?¡± Alastair¡¯s voice cut through the chamber like ice on steel. Draco stood in the archway, soaked in rain, armor cracked and cloak dragging like a shadow behind him. His shoulders sagged¡ªnot from wounds, but from the weight of what he carried. He stepped forward slowly, each movement hesitant, uncertain¡ªmore a boy returning from disgrace than a man returning from war. ¡°We lost,¡± he said. His voice was rough. Hollow. ¡°Phoenix¡­ he killed most of us.¡± A beat passed. Then: ¡°We killed him.¡± The words dropped like stone in water. Dina stepped forward, her eyes narrowing, fists clenched. ¡°You what?¡± ¡°He was unstoppable,¡± Draco continued. ¡°He tore through everything. His Raichu¡ªhis Dragonite¡ª¡± He swallowed. ¡°We had to. We couldn¡¯t win otherwise.¡± ¡°You killed Phoenix Ketchum?¡± Alastair asked, each syllable sharp and deliberate. Draco hesitated. His gaze dropped. ¡°It wasn¡¯t me. It was¡­ Major Santos. His Feraligatr.¡± He looked up. ¡°But I helped. I didn¡¯t stop it.¡± The chamber was still. ¡°You took part in the massacre?¡± Alastair asked, his voice low, dangerous. Draco''s voice cracked, a tremor beneath the surface. ¡°I didn¡¯t plan it! The old clans¡ªthey orchestrated everything. Said it was the only way to stop the League¡¯s reforms. They promised Phoenix would ruin us.¡± His hands curled into fists. ¡°They told me this was how I could protect our clan¡­ preserve our legacy.¡± Dina stared at him in disbelief. Then she took a single step forward and slapped him hard across the face. The sound cracked like lightning. ¡°You didn¡¯t protect us,¡± she hissed. ¡°You damned us.¡± Draco staggered back, reeling more from the shame than the strike. His voice rose, defiant¡ªbut trembling. ¡°I did what I thought was right! I fought for Blackthorn!¡± ¡°No,¡± Alastair said, his tone quiet and cutting. ¡°You fought for your pride.¡± ¡°You couldn¡¯t stand being second to Phoenix. You wanted to prove you were more than his shadow. And when the clans offered you power¡ªyou took it.¡± Draco¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What are you talking about¡ª?¡± Alastair stepped forward, fury blooming behind his calm. ¡°You accepted a gift from Hoenn, didn¡¯t you?¡± Draco froze. ¡°A Salamence.¡± Dina¡¯s breath caught. ¡°They offered it in exchange for your loyalty,¡± Alastair continued. ¡°A dragon not born of this land. You took it. You flew it into battle. You showed the whole world what kind of man you are.¡± Draco¡¯s voice was barely a whisper. ¡°I¡­ I needed an edge.¡± ¡°You brought Hoenn¡¯s poison into our skies,¡± Alastair growled. ¡°You betrayed Indigo. You stained the name of Blackthorn with foreign blood.¡± ¡°How do you even know?¡± Draco asked, the words slipping out like a desperate defense. Alastair¡¯s reply was cold and certain. ¡°Oak¡¯s scouts found the Salamence¡¯s body. The reports are already on the Champion¡¯s desk.¡± He stepped even closer¡ªtowering over his son now. A low growl of thunder rolled through the mountains, echoing down into the ancient stone halls of the Dragon¡¯s Den. Dina stared at Draco with a coldness that turned the firelight in her eyes to ice. ¡°You want to talk about preserving this clan?¡± she said quietly. ¡°Then tell me, Draco¡ªdid you know Ander was killed?¡± Draco¡¯s expression faltered. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Your brother,¡± she said, voice trembling now¡ªnot with sorrow, but fury barely held at bay. ¡°He died in Viridian, trying to protect junior trainers. He stood with the League. With Oak.¡± She took a step toward him, her voice rising. ¡°And you¡­ you brought a foreign dragon into our skies and murdered the man who would¡¯ve rebuilt Indigo.¡± Draco stumbled back, as if the air had turned to ash. ¡°Mother, I¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± The silence that followed could have cut stone. Dina¡¯s voice, when it returned, was deadly calm. ¡°You are no longer my son.¡± The words struck like a blade. Draco¡¯s mouth opened, but no sound came. His hands hung limp at his sides. ¡°We should give you to the Champion,¡± she said flatly. ¡°Let Oak have the one responsible. Maybe then, Blackthorn has a chance to survive.¡± She turned to the assembled elders, fire crackling behind her voice. ¡°This clan should not burn for him.¡± Alastair stepped forward, sharp and sudden. ¡°No.¡± Dina¡¯s head snapped toward him. ¡°What?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t give up our own,¡± Alastair said, jaw clenched. ¡°He¡¯s still¡ª¡± ¡°He is nothing,¡± she snapped. ¡°He is a traitor. A symbol of everything Oak will destroy. And if we keep him, we go down with him.¡± Alastair looked to the side¡ªanywhere but her eyes. ¡°We can still prepare. Fortify the Den. Oak may not strike us directly.¡± ¡°You¡¯re lying to yourself,¡± Dina spat. ¡°You think he''ll show mercy to us? To you?¡± Alastair¡¯s hands balled into fists. ¡°I won¡¯t offer up my son.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯ll bury your clan with him,¡± she said. She turned to Draco one final time. ¡°You are not welcome here. When the Champion comes, may you be the first he finds.¡± Draco stood frozen, pale and hollow, caught in the aftermath of a war he never truly understood. ¡°Dina¡ª¡± Alastair tried again, but she didn¡¯t stop. She swept past them both and vanished into the corridor, her footsteps echoing behind her like the tolling of a funeral bell. The chamber was quiet again. But now the silence was suffocating. The silence before reckoning. Alastair remained still for a long moment, eyes fixed on the flames in the basin. They flickered low, as if mourning already. Then he spoke¡ªquiet, almost too quiet. ¡°Recall the clan. Everyone.¡± ¡°And Oak?¡± one elder asked. Alastair didn''t answer immediately. He looked to the flames again. Watched them dance and stutter in the draft of the coming storm. Finally, he whispered: ¡°He will come.¡± A Champion鈥檚 Wrath (3) Viridian City ¨C Midnight The night above Viridian split open. Dozens of powerful flying-types streaked through the darkness¡ªPidgeot, Charizard, Fearow, even the occasional Dragonite¡ªcircling low over the city like vultures before a feast. At their head, riding his own Dragonite, was Champion Samuel Oak, silent as judgment. They were heading for one place. The Razzo Clan¡¯s ancestral home, a sprawling manor of ancient stone and pride, nestled in the heart of Viridian City. Below, the clan''s last defenders were already assembled¡ªground-types by the dozens: Rhydon, Sandslash, Dugtrio, Steelix, Golem. Trainers flanked their Pok¨¦mon, ready to die. At the front of their ranks stood Cesare Razzo, the clan¡¯s current head. Oak descended in silence, his feet landing on the cracked courtyard where so much blood would soon be spilled. Behind him, Blaine, Pryce, and Agatha followed¡ªquiet as shadows. Next to them, Oak¡¯s Nidoking let out a roar that shook the foundation of the city itself. ¡°Cesare Razzo,¡± Oak said, voice carrying like thunder. ¡°Your father died for his. The clans you led slaughtered my son. My disciple. Our future.¡± Cesare did not flinch. ¡°We bled for this land while you courted Johto,¡± Cesare snapped. ¡°We preserved the balance. We built Kanto. We will not watch you dismantle it for your ¡®reforms¡¯ and call it progress.¡± Oak looked at the man¡ªhis pride, his denial¡ªand pitied him. ¡°You chose your side when you killed Phoenix Ketchum. And with the power vested in me as Champion of Indigo, I hereby sentence the elders of the Razzo clan to death. All Razzo under twenty will be exiled¡ªOrre, Alola, Unova. Choose exile, or die.¡± He turned to his Nidoking. ¡°Begin.¡± The ground split open as Nidoking roared again¡ªthis time, it was answered by dozens of cries. From alleyways, rooftops, riversides, and skies, Oak¡¯s summoned Pok¨¦mon descended upon the estate. The Razzo warriors stood no chance. The battle had begun. * Inside the manor, beneath carved pillars and hanging banners that bore centuries of Razzo history, Francesca Razzo¡ªknown in the underworld as Madame Boss¡ªstood in front of a terminal. On the screen was a man in black, sharp-eyed, younger than the others¡ªyet colder. ¡°Giovanni,¡± she said. ¡°The clan is finished.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. On the screen, Giovanni did not blink. ¡°Understood.¡± Francesca continued, her voice cool and efficient. ¡°You are to take the name Giovanni Sakaki. Your old identity is gone from the records. No one knows the third son. That was the plan.¡± She tapped a sequence on the console. A digital map of hidden Rocket resources lit up. ¡°The family¡¯s assets have been moved to your name. You¡¯ll find them under the guise of a tech conglomerate. You¡¯ll go to Celadon, to the foundation beneath the Game Corner. There, you¡¯ll become something more.¡± Giovanni nodded once. ¡°And Team Rocket?¡± ¡°Yours, from now on,¡± she said. ¡°My most loyal executives have already been notified. You¡¯ll rebuild from the ashes. Quietly. Carefully.¡± There was a pause. Something in her tone softened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we kept you in the shadows all these years. But we always knew¡­ we might need a survivor.¡± Giovanni didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Listen to me,¡± Francesca said, her voice low. ¡°Don¡¯t challenge Oak. Not yet. Work your way into the League. Build your image. A philanthropist. A man of vision. Let the mask do the work. Let Rocket handle the darkness while you wear the light.¡± Still, Giovanni said nothing. ¡°And speak with Dr. Fuji,¡± she added. ¡°His project must continue. If you finish what we started¡­ no Champion will be able to stand against you.¡± A distant rumble shook the building. Francesca turned toward the window¡ªflames were rising on the horizon. ¡°Go,¡± she said. ¡°Do what we couldn¡¯t. Survive.¡± Giovanni finally spoke. ¡°I will.¡± The screen went dark. Francesca stepped away from the console. Her cloak billowed as she activated the fail-safe¡ªa blinking red light above the screen began to count down. Five minutes. She walked into the grand hall and drew her Pok¨¦balls. * By the time Francesca emerged, the courtyard was a graveyard. Razzo¡¯s elders lay scattered among the broken bodies of their Pok¨¦mon. Cesare was on one knee, bloodied, breathing through clenched teeth. Oak turned toward her. She was already releasing her team: Nidoqueen, Rhydon, Sandslash, Marowak, Donphan, and¡ªlast¡ªa Krookodile, jaws dripping and eyes burning with malice. Blaine raised an eyebrow. ¡°Even you turned to outsiders?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t lecture me about purity,¡± Francesca snapped. ¡°You all preach progress, yet fear the very change you claim to embrace.¡± Oak said nothing at first. Then: ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Everyone turned. ¡°There are still politicians who fear open borders. And even some Elite Four members who fear foreign influence,¡± he glanced towards both Blaine and Pryce, ¡°But tonight, those old chains are broken.¡± He stepped forward. ¡°It¡¯s a shame you won¡¯t be able to see the new Indigo.¡± Francesca didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°I don¡¯t plan to live through this.¡± She turned to Cesare. He stood, bloody and silent, and gave one final nod. They spoke no words¡ªbut everything between them was understood. Together, they gave the order. ¡°Fight to the last.¡± Oak and the Elite Four moved as one. Flames, storms, psychic blasts, and crushing waves of earth and steel collided in the center of Viridian. Francesca fought with fury. Her team gave everything. But they were outnumbered. Outclassed. When the smoke cleared, the last of the Razzo line lay dead. A low rumble sounded behind the Champion. The Razzo manor collapsed in on itself, devoured by flame and explosions. Oak stood among the ruins. * Far outside the city, on the route to Viridian Forest, Giovanni stood alone. He watched as firelight rose into the sky¡ªflames consuming the Razzo estate. He did not flinch. Did not blink. Just watched. He had changed clothes¡ªdark boots, gray jacket, gloves tight across his knuckles. At his hip, a single Pok¨¦ball. His Beedrill. No insignia. No crest. His past had burned with the rest. For a long time, he stood in silence, listening to the wind in the trees, to the sound of the forest¡ªwild, ancient, indifferent. Then he turned. ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± he said softly to no one. ¡°Now we begin.¡± He walked into the forest, where no one would follow, and from which no one would see him rise. A Champion鈥檚 Wrath (4) Underground Mt. Mortar ¨C 00:37 hrs. The air was thin in the bunker beneath Mt. Mortar. Cold, sterile, and pressurized like the silence before an avalanche. Steel walls stretched long and narrow, lined with dark consoles and flickering holo-panels. Overhead, strips of pale lighting hummed, barely holding back the shadows. The heart of Johto¡¯s military command had once pulsed with structure and pride¡ªnow, it felt like a mausoleum. Functional. Final. At the center of the war room stood General Juan Santos, silent beneath the pale glow of the central display. His military coat hung open, its brass buttons dulled by age and war. His eyes, however, remained sharp¡ªcalculating, unreadable. To his right stood his eldest son, Major Pedro Santos, uniform still streaked with battle residue, face unshaven, eyes rimmed red from sleepless fury. One hand rested on the hilt of a standard-issue combat Pok¨¦ball¡ªalways ready. Always taut. To the left, his second son, Captain Jorge Santos, crisp in appearance but shaken in spirit. Younger, quieter. His eyes flicked between screens, his jaw clenched not in anger¡ªbut in guilt. He didn''t speak yet. Not with Pedro in the room. Not with their father watching. Around them stood six officers, veterans and rookies alike, arranged in half-formation. The younger ones avoided eye contact. The older ones stared at the screens with the weight of men watching history die in real time. Ping. A new alert shimmered across the main display. The red flash pulsed like a wound. ¡ªRazzo Clan: Annihilated. All senior members confirmed dead. Under-20s exiled by League decree. Property seized. Estate destroyed. No one spoke. Another alert arrived. ¡ªSaffron Fighting Dojo: Leader executed by League strike team. Surviving fighters taken into custody for interrogation. Gym placed under temporary League control. Jorge¡¯s lips parted. ¡°That¡¯s two in under an hour.¡± ¡°They¡¯re teleporting,¡± murmured one of the lieutenants. ¡°They¡¯re not moving in patterns. They¡¯re blinking between cities. It¡¯s¡­ unpredictable.¡± Pedro scowled. ¡°Teleporting where they please, when they please. The League never used to fight this way.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve never had to,¡± Jorge muttered. Another red flash. ¡ªCherrygrove Maki Family: Entire leadership eliminated. Younger members exiled. Properties burned. ¡ªTanren Exorcist Clan of Ecruteak: Purged. A minor exorcist branch aligned with the League appointed as replacement. One of the junior officers cursed under his breath. ¡°Gods¡­¡± the youngest said. ¡°They¡¯re erasing us. Bloodline by bloodline.¡± Pedro growled. ¡°Good. They¡¯re showing their hand.¡± ¡°No,¡± Jorge said, shaking his head slowly. ¡°We showed ours first.¡± For the first time in several minutes, General Santos stirred. He stepped toward the center table, casting a long shadow across the war room. The light made the lines of his face seem carved in stone. He did not look surprised. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Only¡­ interested. ¡°Oak,¡± he said, voice like gravel in steel, ¡°has more allies than I gave him credit for.¡± ¡°Too many,¡± Pedro snapped. ¡°This isn¡¯t just revenge¡ªit¡¯s a massacre.¡± ¡°It¡¯s surgical,¡± Jorge added quietly. ¡°He had these targets ready. Locations. Names. He¡¯s not striking in rage. He¡¯s executing a strategy.¡± The General nodded once, slowly. ¡°He was always efficient. But what impresses me¡­ is how many pieces he kept hidden.¡± He gestured at the red map. ¡°He spent twenty years smiling. Teaching. Preaching reform.¡± His voice hardened. ¡°And all this time, he was feeding his wolves.¡± The silence twisted into tension. Pedro stepped forward, unable to hold back. ¡°This is because of Phoenix,¡± he spat. ¡°You all saw what he became. If we let him grow, he would¡¯ve crushed Johto under his heel just like his master did.¡± ¡°He wasn¡¯t Oak,¡± Jorge said, jaw tightening. ¡°He was his own man. He didn¡¯t want a throne.¡± ¡°He was a throne,¡± Pedro shot back. ¡°The common people would have followed him anywhere. Phoenix Ketchum was the most dangerous man I¡¯ve ever seen.¡± ¡°And we made him that way,¡± Jorge said. Pedro¡¯s eyes burned. ¡°He killed more of us than any League member. You saw what he did to our frontlines. More than twenty prodigies and their teams killed by a single trainer.¡± ¡°He was defending his family,¡± Jorge snapped. ¡°He was a weapon, and we broke him before he could turn to us.¡± Their voices rose, sharp enough to cut the air. Then¡ªJuan Santos raised a single hand. And silence returned. His eyes flicked between his sons. ¡°You speak of ideals and dangers,¡± he said, ¡°but neither of you understand legacy.¡± He turned his gaze to the screen. ¡°We killed Oak¡¯s son. His disciple. His future. He responds with fury because he remembers what we forgot.¡± A long pause. ¡°That nothing is more dangerous than a man who loses his legacy.¡± Juan Santos turned from the display and walked toward the center of the room. His boots echoed on the cold steel. ¡°The time of Johto¡¯s clans is over.¡± The words fell like a decree. One of the younger officers flinched. ¡°General¡ª¡± ¡°We lost. Politically. Strategically. And now, physically.¡± He scanned their faces. ¡°No more illusions. No more final stands. That belongs to ghosts like the Razzo and the Makis.¡± He stood tall, voice sharpening like a blade. ¡°All Johto military cells are hereby dissolved.¡± Murmurs. A wave of disbelief swept the room. Santos continued. ¡°Every soldier is to assume civilian identities. You are to scatter. Orre. Unova. Alola. Hoenn. Kanto, if you dare.¡± He looked to Pedro. ¡°You¡¯ll go to Unova. Build there. Quietly. Find the disenfranchised. The disillusioned.¡± Then, to Jorge: ¡°You stay here. Keep your mother and Javier safe. You¡¯ll rebuild what little we can hold.¡± Jorge¡¯s expression faltered. ¡°You¡¯re splitting us up.¡± ¡°I¡¯m preserving us.¡± One of the officers stepped forward. ¡°What about fighting back? We still have squads¡ª¡± ¡°If you want to die for honor,¡± Juan said coldly, ¡°do it far from here. I will not waste another soldier on a lost battle.¡± He looked to each of them in turn. ¡°Tonight, the old clans die,¡± he said. ¡°But the military? We adapt. We vanish. And one day¡ªwhen they¡¯ve grown fat and arrogant¡ªwe return.¡± Ping. Another alert. The room went still. ¡ªSightings of Oak above Blackthorn City. Dragonite confirmed. No hostile activity yet. Pedro scoffed. ¡°Alastair,¡± he muttered. ¡°The snake didn¡¯t even lift a finger. And now Oak is at his door.¡± Jorge frowned. ¡°You think Oak will strike them too?¡± ¡°He won¡¯t have to,¡± Juan said, voice low but deliberate. ¡°The Blackthorn line is already unraveling.¡± He paced slowly, eyes narrowed on the war map as if tracing the veins of a dying body. ¡°Their heir¡ªDraco¡ªwas the most promising of them. Strong. Proud. But pride makes fools of children. He should have died facing Phoenix.¡± He turned to Pedro. ¡°You interfered.¡± Pedro¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have made it. Phoenix had him¡ªno way out. I made the call.¡± Jorge turned away, eyes lowered. His thoughts were louder than any words he could say. ¡°And now the Champion flies above their skies, and the clans will think it¡¯s for Draco¡¯s sins.¡± The General stepped closer to the console, hands behind his back. ¡°Their second son buried himself in research¡ªtoo soft for war. The third sided with Oak. Paid the price.¡± A beat of silence. ¡°Blackthorn was once a pillar,¡± Juan muttered. ¡°Now it¡¯s a mere monument. The storm will knock it down, and they¡¯ll never understand why.¡± Juan reached for his coat. Buckled it across his chest. Then looked to the room one final time. ¡°I¡¯m going to Orre,¡± he said. ¡°Only the hardest survive there.¡± He turned to the officers. ¡°Who¡¯s coming with me?¡± A pause. Then two older officers stepped forward. Then another. Four total. The others stayed silent. Juan nodded once. Without ceremony, he walked out. Pedro followed. Jorge stayed behind, staring at the last image of Oak¡¯s Dragonite in the sky above Blackthorn, and the thunderclouds rising with it.