It was bright out, that day. Far too bright for Siberia, in fact, far too bright for the Rocket outpost, alone. Alexander could only frown underneath his woolen hood, bright green eyes scouring the woods surrounding him from behind dark, designer sunglasses. Idly, he waited, fingering the ring hanging from the chain around his neck. This was right, he had to remind himself. This was what he needed to do, not just for himself, but for Lambda, too. For the world. This was the only way.
He’d seen things, growing up. Things he dismissed easily as normal, as something every other child in the world grew up seeing. He’d seen cruel, unethical experiments that had left pokemon and people alike maimed, disabled, or worse. He’d seen his peers grow into savage, unfeeling monsters that would kill each other just for the sake of getting ahead in training, in moving that much closer to a promotion. He’d seen grunts torture prisoners in the dungeon as punishment, for information, for fun.
He’d seen the end justify the means, and Alex had always been a quick learner.
It had been laughably easy to get in touch with Interpol, and even easier to maintain contact without arousing suspicion; for all of Team Rocket’s big talk about dealing with traitors, they didn’t make defecting particularly difficult. That was fine, though, the young man mused, as sometimes it was nice to just do something easy.
Alexander was broken from his thoughts not more than a few moments later. Far out in the trees he saw the sunlight reflecting and flashing in the pattern that gave one singular command: let them in. He didn’t hesitate; he spun on his heel and back towards the roof access stairs, moving quickly down the stairs and taking a left down the hall. None of his so-called "peers" stopped him as he went; to his fellow Rockets, he was the respectable young Silver Squad candidate, on his way to some dreary task or another.
There were only two officers in the security offices, though Alexander wasn't surprised. The outpost wasn't by any means large, nor was it very near civilization. The Siberian wilderness truly was the best sort of place for a Rocket outpost--or it would have been, if their security had been just a tad tighter. The security officers, who he had made nice with weeks and weeks ago, smiled and offered him their usual greetings, both of which Alex returned easily. It took him only a few seconds to snap their fragile little necks and cut the power. For a long moment, the base was suddenly, completely silent.
And that was when all hell broke loose.
The bright smile remained on Alex's face as he followed Interpol's officers back towards their transport, only a couple of live Rockets in their custody and the outpost angry, blazing oranges and yellows far behind them. The sunshine was far too bright for a day like this, Alex thought, even as he smelled the dark, oily smoke that rose like a pillar into the sky.
Night made it far more satisfying to watch his world burn.
