There was a single light on in the room - his desk lamp. Colress sat, hunched over his desk, lost in thought. He was still, clasping his hands and pointing upwards towards his nose. He had once realized how he subconsciously tried to look as intelligent as possible, even with no-one around. It didn’t bother him now. No, what bothered him now was Ein, and the Shadow Pokemon that lived not far down the hall from him. Every time he though about it, he always imagined himself stepping beyond that door, and coming out a complete man, his life’s work fulfilled and the world of Pokemon much better off as a result. The image twisted quickly. Colress became a shell, his clothes tattered and his face devoid of any life. His Pokemon, his friends, snarling and howling and making all kinds of vicious noises. Unnatural noises. It was all unnatural.
There was a knock on the door. Colress looked over his shoulder, but saw no-one there. Politeness was a positive quality, but this guest was unscheduled. Or were they? The time between now and meeting Ein felt so short. Communications had been passed around. Who could it be? He recalled fragments of orders, and paperwork, supervising-
He was to supervise someone. A “Citron”, or so. Working on a “SynchroStyler”. Heavens, if only he’d read the damn e-mails..
He managed to muster the strength to get out of his chair, and slid another one along across from his at his desk. Colress was proud to have succeeded in converting his dingy crypt into a functioning lab with a pleasant office space. The cleaning had put him at ease. He sauntered over the door, and made sure to turn the lights on. He looked back at his desk. His stomach churned, noticing the desk lamp still on, shining a dim highlight over the now sufficiently lit desk. He had no time to turn it off. Pleasantries first, lamp off after sitting down. He opened the door.
The boy introduced himself. Colress studied the fellow before him. A bit on the short side. A child? Judging would be hypocrisy on Colress’ behalf - he too excelled as a child. But to be in with Team Rocket.. Whose morals were to be questioned, the Citron’s, or Team Rocket’s?
“Yes, I am Colress. It’s a pleasure” He smiled. Colress himself couldn’t figure out if it was an honest smile, or for show. “I must, initially, apologize. I have been lost in my studies for an extended period of time, and so have only glanced at my communique.” He gestured into his lab, towards his desk. Leading Citron inside, Colress took in his immaculate white and grey laboratory. He felt proud, proud to be such a refined force in this dingy hell. He hoped Citron would see that in him. Pulling out Citron’s chair for him, Colress decided the best course of action was a clever excuse.
“As a result, I am not quite up-to-date with this ‘SynchroStyler’. However, seeing as you are the one being supervised, I was hoping you could fill me in.
He flicked the power switch on the desk lamp to ‘Off’.
