A screen flickered to life behind and above the towering thrones on pillars of six hidden figures in the shadows. The emotionless, disappointed demeanor of an ice-cold face of a groomed man looked down at Riot who they managed to bail out. On the man's side, a Persian stared in enjoyment of what's to come.
"Ha-ha-ha! How the so-called mighty had fallen," the fourth of the six figure, a man, laughed in contempt, looking down at the scowling Riot with a sneering grin, "You only got the title for less than a day and decided to boast it in a Pokémon Center, then got handled by a kid of all things,"
"You-"
"You two, silence," spoke the first, another male, with a voice of authority which got both to shut up.
The fourth scoffed in disdain but nothing else. Riot quieted with respect.
"Riot of Team Rocket," Giovanni voiced, causing the atmosphere to feel cold, "I got a report of your actions last night in Viridian City Pokémon Center. How you acted much less of an elite and more of an undisciplined brat. Not only that, but you also tried to talk to the local Nurse Joy and a trainer, no less than ten, to....do I have to explain?"
"Are you serious?" spoke the third, a female, who looked at the man below in disgust.
"And to sum it all up, you humiliated the Team Rocket name by getting beaten by a little boy," Giovanni concluded, ignoring the rumbling chuckles his Persian was emitting, "I am not going to dwell more in this. You are demoted,"
Riot stomped a heavy boot on the ground and looked to the head of the organization with rageful and desperate eyes, "But sir-"
"Dismissed," was all he gets before the screen shuts off.
"You heard the man, Riot," the fifth spoke, a male, admiring and twiddling a white rose between his fingers, "Skedaddle,"
Riot scowled before turning and left.
"All because a kid shot down a few of his pegs, pathetic," the fourth spoke, looking unimpressed with a high-egoistic tone, "Why did we even agreed to have him here, we'll never know. Should've disposed him the second he flunked that so called mission he was doing,"
"He still has use to the organization," the first spoke, eyeing the fourth with a critical gaze, "Spoiling the boss' mood, lower than it already is, would lead to worst scenarios,"
The first and the fourth locked themselves in an intense stare-off before someone loudly clapped their hands.
"Enough, you two," the second member spoke, a static deep voice resonated from a voice changer hiding their real voice, "We still have a goal to fulfill,"
The rest agreed, with the fourth doing so begrudgingly.
Meanwhile, Riot was walking down the long hallway before stopping at three intersections, gritting his teeth and eyes glaring with intense malice.
"How...DARE THEY!" he roared, turning to a wall with a raised fist and punched a dent into it.
He had been training to get that title, to finally be in the position he was born to be in. And when he finally got it, they took it all away because of that damn brat! It was all that brat's fault! That brat should've groveled on the ground than take on someone who is superior than him! It was because of that brat that he was humiliated in front of the boss and got demoted down with the worthless pawns!
"You three!" he roared, glaring at the trio of what he deemed as dead weights hiding around the corner.
Unlike him, Jessie, James, and Meowth were lightly scolded and manages to get away with only a minimal raise.
He stomps menacingly towards the shaking trio until he was towering over them with a sneering look.
"I have a special assignment for you,"
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Rainbow Feather. Or Rainbow Wing as most called. Shed from the presence of Ho-oh.
There were some beliefs revolving around what it means to obtain one. To some, it is a sign of goodwill, a symbol of eternal happiness similar to catching the sight of the majestic phoenix. to others, it is the sign of worthiness, having what it takes to challenge the legendary bird. Even be its master.
That was what a young man had once believed.
For a long time, he had been believing that he had what it takes to claim Ho-oh, be its master. He had always believed that only those with power are the ones who can rise up and those below are better left in the mud.
But that fated moment...he was starting to have doubts.
Under the shades of a tree, he stared reflectively at the drifting clouds overhead, too deep in thoughts to barely listen to his own Pokémon playing about. Two of them, at least.
Subconsciously, without breaking the stare, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the very thing he was thinking of and brought it to view.
He had learned not that short of a time ago that the Rainbow Wing reacts to the aura and emotions of its holder. If the holder has lost its sense of will and joy, losing their hope, it becomes dull and almost lifeless. If the person is undeterred and always burning with determination and an unwavering heart of goodness, the feather would radiate like a shining sun filled with warmth and hope. But if the heart is nothing but tainted desire for destruction, despair, and...suffering...
The young man shut his eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly and calmly exhales. He opened them and looked at his Rainbow Wing.
The feather is radiating with light, but he could still see the dark aura emitting from it. He could guest that it was because a part of his ego still holds on to his status quo. That, and the lingering voices of unworthiness whispers to his heart.
He looked away from it and to the two Pokémon that were enjoying themselves, running around with smiles on their faces. His eyes planted on the youngest of them.
His mind went back to a conversation, a small hint on what was supposed to come. The question remaining from here on out is if destiny is still set in stone...or had been rewritten whenever that time comes.
He heard the huff of his third Pokémon sitting next to him and the boy sighed exasperatedly.
"Easy there, Torracat, we will be training again soon," he said, then watches the young Charmander laugh with a fond smile, "Let's enjoy this relaxation to the fullest, okay?"
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He watches. He listens. He observes.
Shouldn't be able to interact, be no more than a whisper to their ear. Shouldn't be able to think beyond what's limited to his conscience.
Yet, he felt it. He could feel the changes. The adaptation within his every essence. A mind, then a body, then a small whisp of power.
He was confused at first, then curious, then a small smile starts to grow.
He made a move. He felt his voice coming out stronger than any previous times. Then there was his influence. He had more power over them. He wondered what extent these can do.
Then he felt and saw an interference. But something told him it was meant to happen. He felt his grasp slip and pushed back to the shadows, forced back to a dark corner. His profound powers were forced to lay dormant, but it is fine for him.
Yes, he can use this to his abilities. But not now.
He's not going to do anything to let his presence known….yet.
Why rush when he has all the time in the world? After all, there will be opportunities, he thought to himself.
So, he sat quiet in the darkness. Waiting. Watching. Listening. Observing. Counting.
"This should be interesting,"