Chapter 222: Rayquaza, Go Sit at the Same Table as the White Dragon
"That's Mammon's group!"
Steven stopped, looking across the ruins toward where the battle was beginning to take shape. Above — Primal Kyogre and Black Kyurem, already in motion.
"We made good timing." Wallace let out a quiet breath of relief. The last thing any of them had needed was to arrive and find it already over.
"Let's move up."
Giovanni started forward.
"Sorry, this route's closed."
A cheerful female voice cut across the approach, and every person in the group registered the change in situation simultaneously.
They knew that voice.
"Kagura!!"
Steven turned. Four figures. The girl from Meteor Falls was walking toward them with the unhurried confidence of someone who has already decided how this goes. Beside her: Caitlin — powder-pink dress, composed expression — and on the other side, a white-coated blond man and a green-haired young man standing together.
"Caitlin…" Cynthia's expression did something complicated.
"N?"
Alder couldn't quite process what he was seeing. N — here, standing with Team Rocket's people.
N felt Alder's gaze and tipped his cap down slightly, the brim's shadow covering his eyes.
"Mammon is in the middle of a fight with Kyurem," Kagura said pleasantly, tilting her head. "Can't let you barge in and interrupt."
"Kagura." Steven's voice was measured. "Your revenge is settled. Why are you still with Mammon?"
"None of your business, Champion of Hoenn." She let out a short laugh.
(Besides, it wasn't settled. The Berlitz family in Sinnoh was still outstanding. Though she wasn't in a hurry — she'd get there when she got there.)
"I'll take Kagura," Steven said, keeping his voice low, already releasing Metagross. "I've fought her before. I have a better read on her."
"Ha? You can't just say something like that and expect me not to react." Kagura raised an eyebrow.
"Then let's see your Metagross get past my Salamence."
She released her own Poké Ball — an earth-shaking roar, and Mega Salamence erupted outward.
"Let's go, then."
Salamence rose, Kagura already airborne on its back. Metagross launched to follow, Steven rising with it.
"N."
Alder turned to the green-haired young man, unable to fully conceal his dismay. "Why are you with Team Rocket? Last time we spoke—"
N said nothing.
Because what could he say?
This wasn't what he'd chosen. But choice was a complicated thing.
"You can thank yourselves for that, actually." Colress's smile was pleasant and entirely without warmth.
"Excuse me?"
"If you hadn't woken Kyurem, Kyurem wouldn't have absorbed N's Zekrom. N wouldn't have needed to come to us." Colress tilted his head slightly. "You solved our recruitment problem for us. Quite thoughtful."
The group absorbed this.
Alder looked at N with something that had guilt in it.
Yes. If the League hadn't gone to Giant Chasm — if they hadn't provoked Kyurem into emerging — none of this would have happened to N. Zekrom would still be free. The chain of causality was clear.
"So N is working with Mammon?"
"Mammon told me he could rescue Zekrom." N took a slow breath. The words came out quiet but without hesitation. "That's what matters."
He'd made the decision. Revisiting it wasn't useful, and N wasn't someone who, once he'd committed, wasted energy on doubt.
"Champion Alder." His voice steadied further. "Zekrom is the most important partner I have. Anyone who interferes with this — I won't be lenient. Regardless of who they are."
This battle — Mammon and Kyurem — was the path to getting Zekrom back. N wasn't going to let it be interrupted.
Alder was quiet for a moment.
What could he say, really? We won't let Mammon win? That Mammon couldn't possibly beat Kyurem?
"I'll take N," Leon said, glancing between him and Caitlin. "Without Zekrom, I can handle him."
Alder didn't argue. N without Zekrom was still Champion-tier — not weak by any measure — but the gap between that and Leon was real.
"Actually—" Cynthia spoke up. "Let me take N. Leon, you handle Caitlin."
Leon looked at her, mildly surprised. "You sure?"
Cynthia nodded once.
She didn't want to fight Caitlin right now. Her feelings about that particular matchup were complicated in ways she wasn't going to explain in the middle of a tactical deployment. There was also the practical consideration: Caitlin's specialty was Psychic-type, which meant a prolonged engagement played to her strengths. A quick overwhelming offensive was the only clean path, and that required someone who could break through fast. Leon could do that. Caitlin wanted to run, Caitlin could run — Cynthia wasn't confident she could prevent it.
"I can beat N. Trust me."
Leon shrugged agreeably. "Fine by me."
"That leaves Colress." Alder looked at the remaining white-coated figure, then at Wallace. "The former Team Plasma scientist. 'Dark Scientist' Colress."
"I'll take him."
Wallace's cape made a very satisfying arc as he turned, his voice carrying the serene confidence of someone who has made a professional decision.
A researcher. How difficult could it be?
"Don't underestimate him," Alder said immediately. "His personal combat strength isn't weak, and he has a Genesect. When Looker's people and the Blueberry Academy elites went after him together in Nimbasa, he beat all of them without apparent effort."
Wallace absorbed this with a slight adjustment to his expression.
"I'll go with you," Alder added. "Two on one — we close this faster, then we can support the others."
He glanced toward Mammon's position. His honest assessment of what he could contribute there was not optimistic. Better to handle Colress quickly and then see what could actually be done.
"Very well. I was hoping to showcase something solo, but cooperative performance has its own aesthetic." Wallace inclined his head.
"A fair point," said Colress, who had waited through the entire tactical discussion with complete patience. "Please, take all the time you need. I'm not in a hurry."
He adjusted his glasses, white coat perfectly immaculate, expression of a man attending a seminar he found moderately interesting.
"Honestly. The nerve." Wallace's eyes narrowed. "You're facing the combined efforts of two Champions and you have no sense of urgency whatsoever?"
"I wouldn't put it that way, exactly." Colress tilted his head, seemingly considering this seriously. "I simply prefer academic exchange and interesting experiments over combat. That's my genuine preference."
He released two Poké Balls.
Genesect and Metagross materialized before him — and his left hand rose, the Key Stone on the back of his glove catching the light. Metagross began to transform.
Mega Metagross.
"However, since Mammon has requested this of me, I'm happy to oblige." He tucked both hands behind his back. "Don't worry — it won't last long."
"That makes two of us!" Wallace released Gyarados — Mega Evolution blazing through it instantly, Water/Dark, all the smugness and power of a world-class battler who knows exactly what his Pokémon can do.
Alder stepped forward alongside him, Volcarona already airborne.
Two Champions, one Mega Pokémon each.
Colress's smile was very small and very even.
"I see. Well then." He glanced at the pairings — Genesect and Mega Metagross against Mega Gyarados and Volcarona. Type matchups: Genesect at a Fire weakness, Mega Metagross against Mega Gyarados's Dark-type advantage. Both unfavorable.
"Interesting starting position," he said, with genuine intellectual interest.
Wallace thought: He's going to be annoying to beat.
On Mammon's side of the ruins.
"Mammon, I genuinely cannot fight it."
The young Rayquaza stared up at Black Kyurem and its expression could only be described as pre-emptively defeated.
"I'm quadruple weak to Ice. You want me to fight an ICE DRAGON??"
"You really are at the same table as the white dragon."
Mammon's eyelid twitched, looking at his young Rayquaza's thoroughly demoralized pre-combat posture.
"?" Reshiram tilted its head with the dignity of something that has no idea it's being insulted.
"But genuinely though," Rayquaza pressed, audibly pained. "That cold coming off it. Even standing here feels bad."
"Then go deal with the ones behind me."
Mammon glanced to the side. Rayquaza turned.
A man in an expensive black suit was walking toward them at an unhurried pace, one hand in his coat pocket. Behind him, something immense moved in step — red-haloed, lava-seamed, heavy enough that each footfall registered in the ground.
Giovanni. And Primal Groudon.
Rayquaza considered this for a moment.
…Groudon.
It could fight Groudon.
(End of Chapter)
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