Deep within the tightly-secured confines of Veilstone’s Galactic Headquarters, something truly awful is about to take place. Despite the team’s fleeting, meaningless pledges towards the betterment of Sinnoh, everyone tangled up within Cyrus’s revolutionary plot is about to become a part of something irreconcilable. Evil.
Jupiter couldn’t care less. She watches from behind a reinforced glass pane with Mars at her side, foot tapping impatiently as Charon and Saturn scurry nervously about the secretive lab, the weight of what they’re about to do hunching the shoulders of the two brilliant scientists.
Operation Red Chain.
Charon stands awkwardly behind the room’s control panel as Saturn connects the final bits of wiring together. In the center of the lab, the fluid-filled tubes containing the motionless figures of Azelf, Mesprit, and Uxie emit a sickly green glow. Saturn backs away from the experimental extraction and raises his hand at Charon’s side. It’s ready. An air of finality, resignation, seems to fill the foreboding space. It’s ready. Jupiter senses Mars holding her breath.
The old man nods weakly...and, with a trembling finger, presses the red button at the console’s center. In a sense, Galactic’s fate as a societal scourge is sealed then.
An angry crimson light fills the tubes, and as the Lake Trio suffer, everyone present does as well. The pounding--Arceus, the pounding!--in the Commanders’ temples is excruciating. Saturn, overwhelmed by Azelf’s sheer force of will, collapses to the floor in agony while Charon also slumps over the flashing panel, sweat dripping down his forehead as he grapples with his own mental trials. Mars is crying--Mesprit’s despair surfacing in her own emotions--and Jupiter, suddenly burdened with agonizingly brief glimpses of Uxie’s knowledge concerning Galactic’s future, struggles to remain upright in her seat. The tubes containing the Lake Trio flash brightly and the protective glass shielding Jupiter and Mars shatters, the shards cascading to the floor like raindrops. And then...all is mercifully quiet.
Ignoring the whimpering and groans of her colleagues as the pain in her head subsides, Jupiter peers over at the sinister machinery supporting this entire endeavor, amethyst eyes widening as she locates a crystalline crimson link glistening on the small collection table. A momentary success...but a single chain link is not nearly enough to shackle a deity. They will need to create more.
Cyrus isn’t here to witness the Red Chain’s unsavory creation, of course--but he’s left the completion of the project in capable hands. Saturn and Charon are both strikingly bright intellectuals, but each of them--especially Charon--has had inexcusable moments of hesitance when it came to fulfilling Galactic’s missions. Today, Jupiter is not here to engage with the science (as much as she’d love to.) No, she’s here as an enforcer first--to drive her team forward despite their increasingly weakened resolve.
“Press it again,” the Commander calls out, boots crunching the shattered glass as she steps into the lab and levels an impatient gaze at Charon, who is still breathing shakily at the controller’s helm. “Hurry up.”
Charon, still somewhat sensible despite his position within this insidious organization, just peers at his colleague like she’s insane to even consider the idea of another agonizing cycle. Unfortunately, his silent moment of protest is abruptly overridden when Jupiter marches over to the console and slams her palm down on the extraction button in his stead, her lip curling into a cold sneer. Once again, the room fills with red light as the Lake Trio send their captors to the floor in another show of their collective power. However, even as her mind fills with more of Uxie’s terrible visions, Jupiter knows that--with every button press--the Red Chain is closer to completion. Their vision, closer to completion.
Team Galactic’s world...it will all be worth it in the end.
“Team Galactic has provided stable employment for countless people in the Sinnoh region. Trainers, researchers and wanderers flock to us, desperate for a second chance to prove themselves. Honestly, the steady flow of applications would surprise you. Sinnoh has left so many people behind...it’s no wonder they want a chance to change the world now.”
A small smile plays at the corner of Jupiter’s lips.
“These well-meaning people--or grunts, as society has labeled them--are given uniforms, optional board, comfortable wages...and yes, somewhat laughable Pokemon. However, they’re given the chance to grow here and contribute to our mission--even if the details of our plan are hidden from them.”
“...And yet, vigilante brats comfortably threaten our employees with violence or treat them like irredeemable dirt, even if they are the most blameless group in our organization. Who are the real savages here?” the Commander sighs. In truth, she doesn’t care all too much about Galactic’s lowest ranks, but she’ll come to their defense if it affords her an opportunity to complicate the organization’s tenuous standing in the region.
“Team members are people, too. People who just want something to believe in again.”
▶ A BOY IS A GUN* - Tyler, the Creator
No, don’t shoot me down...
For the first time in a long time, the normally secluded Hokulani Observatory is buzzing with international activity. Scientific figures, invited from every corner of the Pokemon world, cram themselves into the celestial research center’s sprawling interior to take notes on rarely-seen Alolan projects, all of them marveling at the prodigious telescope crowning Mount Hokulani. Molayne, the organizer of this impressive science fair, is a mess of handshakes, greetings, and stress as he zooms around the venue, fretting over accommodations. Sophocles puffs his chest out proudly as some scientists take the time to marvel over latest gadgetry.
Eris Evans, representing Devon Corp all the way from Hoenn as one of its lead researchers, is lucky to be here among such brilliant minds. And yet, while her supposed colleagues in the scientific community fight childishly for ‘telescope time,’ she remains nonplussed (it’s old news, since the former Commander has seen the manipulation of space once before.) Instead, Eris loiters near the windswept entrance, wondering how she can escape the event without attracting attention. See, while everyone else was busy fawning over the Hokulani telescope, the researcher took the opportunity to “borrow” the Steelium Z-Crystal from its display case, deftly replacing the precious artifact with a carefully-constructed replica. No one is the wiser, but the crystal--so full of potential for Devon’s future energy endeavors!--is burning a hole in her lab coat. The whole operation is a risky little heist, especially for a calculating person like herself. Eris curses softly under her breath. Fool.
She can’t stay here for much longer, but to leave now--with everybody in the main atrium still getting to know each other--is suspicious.
Her amethyst gaze sweeps over the room before falling upon a pair of interesting subjects, also apparently separated from the main crowd by choice. With that ever-present small smile on her lips, Eris wanders over towards Clarissa and ZED, mentally noting the former’s intimidating figure, jagged scars cutting up toned arms. However, Eris forges ahead, not even bothering to introduce herself as she adjusts her glasses and examines ZED with an intrigued curiosity. The former Commander was present when Team Galactic downloaded experimental code into a group of trial Porygon, augmenting their abilities but ultimately corrupting their internal programming with strange errors. The Dubious Disc...even now, it’s strangely nostalgic.
“I never thought that I would run into a Z model here, especially one without any outward defects. Porygon is such a fascinating Pokemon, isn’t it?” Eris murmurs quietly, tearing her gaze away from ZED to finally look in Clarissa’s direction, her eyes twinkling. “Forgive my curiosity, but did you make any updates to the source code before upgrading your model? If I recall correctly, the original disc data contained some significant...imperfections.”
You so motherfuckin' dangerous (you started with a mere hello)
You so motherfuckin' dangerous
You got me by my neck (a boy is a gun)...
(this drabble mentions the red chain experiments, just a slight disclaimer!!)
Deep within the tightly-secured confines of Veilstone’s Galactic Headquarters, something truly awful is about to take place. Despite the team’s fleeting, meaningless pledges towards the betterment of Sinnoh, everyone tangled up within Cyrus’s revolutionary plot is about to become a part of something irreconcilable. Evil.
Jupiter couldn’t care less. She watches from behind a reinforced glass pane with Mars at her side, foot tapping impatiently as Charon and Saturn scurry nervously about the secretive lab, the weight of what they’re about to do hunching the shoulders of the two brilliant scientists.
Operation Red Chain.
Charon stands awkwardly behind the room’s control panel as Saturn connects the final bits of wiring together. In the center of the lab, the fluid-filled tubes containing the motionless figures of Azelf, Mesprit, and Uxie emit a sickly green glow. Saturn backs away from the experimental extraction and raises his hand at Charon’s side. It’s ready. An air of finality, resignation, seems to fill the foreboding space. It’s ready. Jupiter senses Mars holding her breath.
The old man nods weakly...and, with a trembling finger, presses the red button at the console’s center. In a sense, Galactic’s fate as a societal scourge is sealed then.
An angry crimson light fills the tubes, and as the Lake Trio suffer, everyone present does as well. The pounding--Arceus, the pounding!--in the Commanders’ temples is excruciating. Saturn, overwhelmed by Azelf’s sheer force of will, collapses to the floor in agony while Charon also slumps over the flashing panel, sweat dripping down his forehead as he grapples with his own mental trials. Mars is crying--Mesprit’s despair surfacing in her own emotions--and Jupiter, suddenly burdened with agonizingly brief glimpses of Uxie’s knowledge concerning Galactic’s future, struggles to remain upright in her seat. The tubes containing the Lake Trio flash brightly and the protective glass shielding Jupiter and Mars shatters, the shards cascading to the floor like raindrops. And then...all is mercifully quiet.
Ignoring the whimpering and groans of her colleagues as the pain in her head subsides, Jupiter peers over at the sinister machinery supporting this entire endeavor, amethyst eyes widening as she locates a crystalline crimson link glistening on the small collection table. A momentary success...but a single chain link is not nearly enough to shackle a deity. They will need to create more.
Cyrus isn’t here to witness the Red Chain’s unsavory creation, of course--but he’s left the completion of the project in capable hands. Saturn and Charon are both strikingly bright intellectuals, but each of them--especially Charon--has had inexcusable moments of hesitance when it came to fulfilling Galactic’s missions. Today, Jupiter is not here to engage with the science (as much as she’d love to.) No, she’s here as an enforcer first--to drive her team forward despite their increasingly weakened resolve.
“Press it again,” the Commander calls out, boots crunching the shattered glass as she steps into the lab and levels an impatient gaze at Charon, who is still breathing shakily at the controller’s helm. “Hurry up.”
Charon, still somewhat sensible despite his position within this insidious organization, just peers at his colleague like she’s insane to even consider the idea of another agonizing cycle. Unfortunately, his silent moment of protest is abruptly overridden when Jupiter marches over to the console and slams her palm down on the extraction button in his stead, her lip curling into a cold sneer. Once again, the room fills with red light as the Lake Trio send their captors to the floor in another show of their collective power. However, even as her mind fills with more of Uxie’s terrible visions, Jupiter knows that--with every button press--the Red Chain is closer to completion. Their vision, closer to completion.
Team Galactic’s world...it will all be worth it in the end.
Cynthia’s words are surprisingly sharp, her accusations pointed like Beedrill stingers--but Jupiter doesn’t back down. Instead, as Sinnoh’s champion releases her hulking Garchomp for supposed monitoring purposes, the stoic Commander merely smiles. With an airy wave of her hand, she dismisses the two Grunts acting as her bodyguards. The poor peons, as if released from a binding spell, harmlessly skitter back towards the safety of the nearby Galactic Eterna Building. No, Jupiter could grapple with this unexpected situation by herself--no help necessary.
“Who am I to tell you how to spend your time?” she asks innocuously, casting an equally blameless look back at Cynthia as she slowly continues her trek towards the time-worn shrine rotting in Eterna’s center square. “In fact, it’s an honor to have the Sinnoh’s sole Champion accompanying me on such a simple errand. I thought you might have your hands full trying to lift this region out of its backwater status, but alas...”
Jupiter pauses with a subtle smirk, her back still turned towards Cynthia as she taps a thoughtful finger to her chin.
“...I don’t mean to be so direct, but Team Galactic is having to pick up your slack lately. You waste so much time with ancient ruins and outdated mythology books. Galactic recognizes that the past has little value, and we are merely committed to creating a wonderful future for Sinnoh. World destruction is not our goal at all. Rather, we are aiming to create a reimagined world--one that contains a better tomorrow for everyone. You should be supporting our efforts.”
They’ve reached the top of the hill now, and the historical shrine looms over all of them, mossy and overgrown. Jupiter turns towards Cynthia and Jewel, grin widening as she holds the moldy wooden plaques at arm’s length. Without warning, the Commander dismissively lets the Eterna artifacts fall from her grip, causing both plaques to clatter indiscriminately on the hard ground of the hillside.
“If you’re so obsessed with Sinnoh’s meaningless history, you should be the one to put these signs back where they belong. I don’t remember where they go,” Jupiter declares in that sickeningly honeyed tone, leveling her gaze (and smirk) at Cynthia as she gestures towards the fallen signage. “Go on, Champion.”
It, truly, could be anything, or a mixture of different factors, the heroine reminds herself as her attention shifts. History believes it to hinge on a bond, and such an idea seems to be true, yet were there not indicators that biological factors played a part in it, too? If only Serena could remember the exact details of what she had proof-read and was told, yet biology and biochemistry are not her fortes– not by a longshot.
“–And mega stones, themselves, have their own mysteries, too. We know they constantly emit a kind of energy that interacts with its surroundings… but not the source or how it came to be. Not definitively.”
For a moment, she falls silent, a look of thought crossing onto the young woman’s features as her focus rests on Eris’ features once more.
“I’m not really sure why the Devon Corporation is interested in mega evolution, given all of its uncertainties… Is there an idea or theory you have?”
As Serena voices her uncertain thoughts surrounding Mega Evolution’s energy outputs, bonds, and potential triggers, Eris’s true demeanor--veiled behind an ever-convincing mask of attentiveness--sours slightly. With the former commander’s mind tuned for concrete answers and outcomes, mysteries, hypotheses, and unknown factors have always failed to quench her insatiable thirst for knowledge. How annoying.
She takes a small sip of tea to recollect herself, a slight smile and warm expression resting on her lips. In this slow-paced meeting surrounding such a delicate subject, patience is everything.
“...As you know, Miss Letova, Devon Corporation has always been a bastion of technological advancement and progress,” Eris replies after pausing to entertain Serena’s seemingly innocuous question. She takes a breath before leaning slightly over the desk towards the heroine, her twinkling amethyst eyes betraying a telling hint of conspiratorial confidentiality. “...And I’m sure you’ve heard of this company’s...unfortunate history involving Infinity Energy. The construction of a rocket powered this bioenergy, even if it aimed to save the world, was hasty, unethical, and ill-informed. Since the Delta Incident, Devon has focused on atonement and pledged a return to its peaceful, innovative roots.”
“I was hired by President Stone to analyze new forms and sources of alternative energy for everyday use.” With that soft declaration, the reformed researcher pauses again, reaching into her secured desk drawer to extract a small metal box from its depths. “Devon graciously provided me with these two precious objects-” she explains, carefully unlatching the lid to reveal a gleaming Pidgeotite and Beedrillite, “-for further study. And, even though I presently lack...what researchers are calling a Key Stone, I can feel the immense suppressed energy that they both emit. Such fascinating and puzzling artifacts...”
Eris briefly glances up to evaluate Serena’s reaction to this news, not yet registering how the Kalosian might be involuntarily reacting to the presence of the collected stones. Caught up in her explanation now, she leans forward again.
“To be straightforward with you, Miss Letova, Devon believes that excess energy surrounding the Mega Evolution phenomenon can be harvested, repurposed, and utilized for a greater, common good. The corporation would like me to work very quickly on making this hypothesis a reality and have told me so. And while I share their beliefs, I think there are ethical, thoughtful ways to pursue this goal--which is why I invited you here for your insights, cautions, and advice. I would like to prevent another Delta Incident.” Amethyst eyes flick tellingly towards an unplugged desk phone. “They don’t know about this meeting, or that I invited you out here. In my position as a...newer researcher in the world of corporate academia’s Rattata race, I often have to be inventive with my methods. I’m sure you understand.”
Eris leans back in her seat, setting down her mug to pick up the Beedrillite and roll it between her fingers. The stone seems to thrum in her casual grip.
“I don’t know if I had permission to share all that information with you, but, as I said before, I’ve always valued transparency when it comes to research,” she concludes, giving Serena a small mile and nod. “And, now that you know of this plan, I’d be interested to hear your feedback on it, given your background and firsthand experience. I feel like this goes without saying, but you can be honest with me.”
@distortsverity sent: “nobody loved you enough as a child? sorry to see you turned out this way.”
“Just look up at that cosmic mess…there are still so many things we don’t understand. We may never understand everything there is to know about space–that great beyond,” Jupiter’s father murmurs, tired eyes fixed on the starscape sprawling across the night skies of Lake Valor. Jupiter, much younger then (back before she adopted that fateful alias), raises her eyebrows with surprise, saying nothing. The innocuous comment stings, feels like a betrayal–for the first time, her father is acknowledging the supposed limitations of human understanding, discovery, science. The pair sits in comfortable silence post-declaration, ice cubes clinking in glasses as they drink in the last few moments of freedom out on the Seven Stars patio–away from work, away from school, away from the narcissistic tyrant known reluctantly as Mother.
“You’re wrong,” Jupiter speaks up suddenly, childish bravado coloring her tone. “I’ll learn all there is to know about space. I’m going to learn about everything.”
Her father laughs then–a quiet, rare sound–and Jupiter feels herself relax as his hand squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. “If anyone can do it…it’s you. My genius of a daughter,” he offers with a smile. Jupiter, satisfied, looks heavenward once more, imagining herself planting a flag in a plume of swirling stardust, on some planet far, far away…
—
Hikari’s wrong this time. The brat’s hateful words burn, despite the mind-numbing climate atop Sinnoh’s highest peak. The Galactic Commander feels Mars’s steadying hand on her shoulder, and the touch whisks her back to that lakeside memory, a flicker of nostalgia. And, despite the dire situation, despite the Grunts toppled in Hikari’s wake, Jupiter allows an unacceptable question to worm its way into her brain.
"oh," the voice pulls back, just a little. "so you've embraced it."
"the world is unkind," you say, arms folding over your chest. "why should i be?"
the voice laughs. "you have a point." — the world's uncaring, so you've decided this is the next best thing— you've made an arsonist out of yourself and you'll burn down your enemies just in case you'll burn down with them. i'm really not the person who has the right to judge people for what they do, but i just want to tell you that even though the world doesn't care, there are people who do. and i know that seems rich coming from a stupid optimist— but i just hope you realise that.”
@distortsverity sent: “nobody loved you enough as a child? sorry to see you turned out this way.”
“Just look up at that cosmic mess…there are still so many things we don’t understand. We may never understand everything there is to know about space–that great beyond,” Jupiter’s father murmurs, tired eyes fixed on the starscape sprawling across the night skies of Lake Valor. Jupiter, much younger then (back before she adopted that fateful alias), raises her eyebrows with surprise, saying nothing. The innocuous comment stings, feels like a betrayal–for the first time, her father is acknowledging the supposed limitations of human understanding, discovery, science. The pair sits in comfortable silence post-declaration, ice cubes clinking in glasses as they drink in the last few moments of freedom out on the Seven Stars patio–away from work, away from school, away from the narcissistic tyrant known reluctantly as Mother.
“You’re wrong,” Jupiter speaks up suddenly, childish bravado coloring her tone. “I’ll learn all there is to know about space. I’m going to learn about everything.”
Her father laughs then–a quiet, rare sound–and Jupiter feels herself relax as his hand squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. “If anyone can do it…it’s you. My genius of a daughter,” he offers with a smile. Jupiter, satisfied, looks heavenward once more, imagining herself planting a flag in a plume of swirling stardust, on some planet far, far away…
—
Hikari’s wrong this time. The brat’s hateful words burn, despite the mind-numbing climate atop Sinnoh’s highest peak. The Galactic Commander feels Mars’s steadying hand on her shoulder, and the touch whisks her back to that lakeside memory, a flicker of nostalgia. And, despite the dire situation, despite the Grunts toppled in Hikari’s wake, Jupiter allows an unacceptable question to worm its way into her brain.
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
jbbartram-illu
areudirty
janainaart
germansingergirl
2087
annaxmalina
