Whitney sat on the sofa, her fitted clothing hugging her figure. Her bright eyes, hidden beneath the visor of her large motorcycle helmet, were fixed on Jacob as she finally asked the question that had been on her mind for a long time.
By anyone's measure, Jacob's strength was close to Champion-level in the region. Most members of the Four Heavenly Kings would have struggled to match him in a battle. So the question was simple enough — why had he chosen to build Team Rocket instead of pursuing that path?
Whitney wasn't sure she understood it.
Jacob's expression grew serious at the question. His gaze drifted to the motorcycle helmet resting over Whitney's face, and he was quiet for a moment, his eyes carrying a distant, thoughtful look.
What Whitney said was true. With his current strength, he could have easily earned a seat among the Four Heavenly Kings, and from there, challenged for the Champion title. But that wasn't the life he wanted.
"I think there are two things a person has to do in their lifetime," Jacob said at last, his voice calm and unhurried. A faint smile crossed his lips. "The first is to do what you truly want to do. The second is to do something that shows you were here — something people won't forget."
He paused, letting that settle.
He thought back to Giovanni from the Pokémon world he had known in his past life — bold, composed, and utterly certain of his path. Giovanni was, without a doubt, one of the most striking figures that world had ever produced. Not a hero, but someone unforgettable all the same.
"There are plenty of Champions in this world," Jacob continued quietly. "One more wouldn't change much, and one less wouldn't be missed either. I'm not someone the world needs in that seat."
"But an underground king?" He let the words hang in the air. "There isn't one. Not yet."
He leaned back slightly, his tone steady and genuine.
"My goal is straightforward. I want to be the one who unifies the underground — every scattered organization, every hidden group — under one banner. I want to take control of Pokémon resources so that more people can become Trainers without having to depend on powerful families who hoard those opportunities for themselves." He glanced around at the others. "I want to live by my own choices. To act with a clear conscience. To do what I can and leave the rest to fate."
The room was silent for a moment after Jacob finished speaking.
What he had said came from somewhere honest. A life shaped by one's own values, where happiness wasn't a reward at the end but the very point of it all — that was the kind of life he was after. Wealth, fame, power, none of those things were goals in themselves. They were tools. Suffering might come, but only in the service of something better.
Everyone's eyes drifted toward Whitney. Her expression was hidden beneath the helmet, impossible to read.
She picked up the flame-patterned mask from beside her and began turning it slowly in her hands. When she spoke, her voice came through with a slight electronic distortion.
"I didn't expect you to have a goal like that," she said. There was no mockery in her tone — if anything, there was a hint of amusement. "But it's not boring, I'll give you that." She set the mask down on her knee. "All right. From today, I'm a member of Team Rocket. I only have one condition: whenever you battle a Champion from another region, you call me in. Deal?"
"Deal," Jacob said without hesitation, nodding once. It was a small request, and an easy one to keep.
"Then it's settled," Whitney said simply. "Let's get to work on making Pokémon accessible to everyone."
A beat of silence followed — and then came the quiet rustle of surprise moving through the room.
Nobody had expected that. Whitney was the head of Dragon Sand Society, one of the most prominent underground groups in the region. That she would agree to fold her organization into Team Rocket so readily, without negotiation, without conditions beyond a single request — it caught everyone off guard.
Jacob himself blinked. "Wait — did you just... agree? Just like that?"
It almost felt like a joke. He couldn't help it; a flicker of genuine curiosity rose in him as he looked at the large helmet still sitting on Whitney's head. He found himself wondering, not for the first time, who exactly she was beneath it.
She had to be a little bit unusual, at least.
"One more thing," Whitney added, still turning the flame mask over in her hands. "Your mask design is distinctive — I'll give you that — but it's also easy to copy. If someone with bad intentions got their hands on a fake, they could use Team Rocket's name to cause trouble, and there wouldn't be much you could do about it."
She held the mask out slightly. "You have a Rainbow Wing, don't you? Use it to burn a mark onto the mask — something personal to you. The Rainbow Wing will leave a Sacred Flame on it that can't be replicated. And before you worry," she added, "the Sacred Flame won't hurt you."
"It's a flame that carries the energy of life. It won't harm any living Pokémon or person — if anything, it has a restorative effect. It can even help heal injuries."
Jacob stared at her for a moment. He had actually thought about the counterfeiting problem before. He carried the specially crafted masks — numbered one through twelve, stored in what he privately called the God Coffin — and the risk of imitation had crossed his mind more than once. He just hadn't found a clean solution.
Whitney's suggestion, though, was genuinely practical. He turned it over carefully in his mind and found no flaws in it.
He reached into his bag and drew out both his mask and the Rainbow Wing.
A pale white flame drifted steadily from the feather, quiet and constant, like a candle that nothing could extinguish. Jacob slowly moved his hand toward it. There was no burn. Only warmth, soft and steady, spreading across his palm.
The Rainbow Wing was a remarkable thing.
He brought the edge of the mask carefully into contact with the feather. The flame touched the surface and, in seconds, burned a clean feather-shaped pattern into the material. Then the Sacred Flame spread across the marking and caught there, burning bright and still.
It worked perfectly.
Jacob. The Rainbow Wing. A feather pattern.
Was that a coincidence? Or something else?
"That's incredible," Sylvia murmured beside him, leaning forward with wide eyes fixed on the mask. She looked up at Jacob. "Can I do one too?"
"Of course," Jacob said, smiling. "All of you can. Use the Rainbow Wing to burn whatever pattern you like onto your own mask. Starting today, that's the initiation for core members of Team Rocket."
He wasn't the only one who had been watching the Rainbow Wing with curiosity. Davis and the Layne siblings had been stealing glances at it since Jacob first brought it out. Their personalities had kept them from asking outright, but now that Jacob had opened the door, the quiet interest in their expressions was plain enough.
Each of them nodded. The initiation felt right — something earned and personal, rather than just a formality.
There was one person in the room, however, who felt anything but at ease.
Edwin sat very still, doing his best to look like he wasn't there.
Internally, he had already given Whitney a thorough piece of his mind. She was the head of Dragon Sand Society — dignified, experienced, respected. And she had just agreed to merge into Team Rocket after a five-minute conversation.
What was he supposed to do with that?
He glanced around the room. Everyone here was Team Rocket now. Everyone except him. He was the only outsider sitting at a table full of members, and the longer he sat there, the more uncomfortable it felt. He lowered his head and said nothing, staring at the floor like he hadn't noticed anything.
He had never liked depending on others.
"Take some time to think about what pattern you'd like," Jacob said, addressing the group. "And come up with a codename for yourself — something that can't be confused with anyone else's. When we're operating in the field, we can't use real names."
He paused briefly, his eyes moving across the room.
"As for the matter of the Qi Family — I've heard what all of you think, and I've made a decision. I won't be handling it personally. I'll be leaving that task to..." He started to say Zion and Davis's names aloud, then stopped himself, redirecting with a slight gesture toward the two of them instead. "Stay behind after this. I'll go over the details with you then."
He shifted his gaze to the figure sitting quietly at the edge of the room.
"Edwin," Jacob said, his voice easy and without pressure. "Have you given any thought to bringing Paradise Group in under Team Rocket's banner?"
Edwin let out a quiet breath.
He had known this was coming.
—