Rally Interpretation

BY : Young_Sage
Category: Pokemon > General
Dragon prints: 1657
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

A/N: I might be using this for a college admission, so I'd like some feedback for this (the final product would rename everything Pokemon-related).  Thanks!

Rally Interpretation

(Team Rocket)

            You look up from the note you've written hastily earlier.  This seems to be the place, though you're not absolutely sure.  For one, it's a warehouse.  Two, it is one o'clock in the morning and you're pretty sure you don't have proper security access to be here at this time.  Then again, you don't have anything in storage here, so you'd have no business being here during store hours to begin with.  Not that you really care.  If the bounty is good enough, you'll break into anything.  Three, due to the destined meeting time and low lighting, you're not quite sure if this is the correct warehouse to meet at.

            You look at the note again.  Frankie never makes mistakes.  If he said that the meeting would take place in this building at this time, then that will be the case.  You look around.  No one else within the vicinity.  You walk up to the door and crank the handle, being careful not to actually open the door in case it's locked and an alarm will sound off.  To your surprise, the door is indeed unlocked.  You look around once more and, upon seeing no witnesses, open the door and enter the warehouse.

            Slipping in without noise, you quickly close the door behind you as silently as possible.  It's even darker inside than it was outside.  You remain motionless until your eyes have adjusted to the darkness.  Once that has happened, you notice someone in the distance heading towards the back of the warehouse.  He doesn't seem to have noticed you.  You decide to follow him.

            Doing so finds you in the back of a crowd of people, all of them looking shiftily at their surroundings.  No one here, including yourself, seemed to want anyone else to know that they were here.  Only a few brave souls chanced making communications with one another.  It was also still dark, with no light being illuminated.

            Suddenly, the back row of ceiling lights turned on.  Their sudden appearance blinds you momentarily.  When you're able to see again, you notice that a makeshift stage has been set up on one of the walls.  The most noticeable thing is the huge, red 'R' affixed to the wall above the stage.  Men and women in identical, black uniforms bearing the same stylized logo walk onto the stage.  They all show no signs of emotion, all professionalism.  The crowd around you murmur to themselves about these uniformed people.  Then, a man in a black suit and a black fedora steps onto the stage.  He has the logo patched onto the left side of his suit.  He takes off his hat and everyone quiets immediately.

            "Welcome, my comrades," he says, gesturing to all of you.

            You instantly get the impression that he is speaking directly to you.  Will he be able to provide you with what you need, you wonder?

            "I am Giovanni, leader of Team Rocket.  I suspect that no one here needs to be informed as to what our goals are and how we wish to succeed them.  I also suspect that I have no reason to guess as to why you are all here tonight.  After all, breaking into a warehouse still in use during the cover of night is not exactly what Officer Jenny would call 'a friendly stroll in the park.'"

            Some of the crowd chuckles.  You think it takes more than friendly warmth to take leadership.

            "No, what you all want is power.  The ability to do whatever you want!  No consequences!  No one to boss you around and tell you what to do!  To show the world what you are truly capable of!"

            "Yeah!" shout some of the crowd.

            "You've been wronged before.  Told you can't just take what's there and rightfully yours.  Told you couldn't reach your true potential through any means.  That you had to follow the same path that everyone else takes.  And look where that path took them!  Menial office jobs, the same daily grind, wasting their life to barely scrape by in life.  THEY do not see what YOU see!  THEY continue to meekly shuffle in the dirt instead of rising up and grab for the power that is within their reach!  And do you know why they won't let you do what they cannot?"

            He pauses for dramatic effect.

            "Because those with the power don't want you to have any as well!"

            "Yeah!  That's right!" shouts more of the crowd.

            "THEY don't want competition!"


            "THEY don't want you to best them!"


            "THEY don't want to be removed from the top of the food chain, where YOU belong!"


            "I can give you this opportunity!  If you join Team Rocket, I can give you power!  The trainers of this world believe Pokémon to be living, breathing creatures with their own hopes and dreams, beings that deserve our friendship and cooperation.  They are wrong!  If creatures of such unimaginable power were truly thinking creatures, they would be in charge, not us.  They are nothing more than tools for us to use as we please!  It is actually good for us that trainers think of Pokémon as friends, as that means they don't train them to be powerful weapons to be used against us.  Their Pokémon will be weak, and no one will be able to oppose us, oppose you!  Pokémon are not friends.  They ARE power!  And it is with this power that we will take control of the world, and gain ultimate power!  All you ever desired will be yours!  No one will ever tell you 'no' ever again!"

            The crowd roars with excitement.  You think back to your last Pokémon battle.  You only had a Grimer, and your enemy had a Kadabra.  You were soundly beaten.  Looking back, you realize that what Giovanni is saying is true.  Both your Grimer and the Kadabra could easily defeat you if they so wished.  But they didn't.  Your Grimer obeyed your every command.  It was yours to use.  And that Kadabra.  Who was to stop you from simply swiping it from that trainer and using it for yourself?  All that power...

            The museum.  That was your last heist.  You only had your Grimer as a weapon.  Not exactly something that leaves no traces behind at a crime scene.  You had to put so much effort into the whole process.  Just to get ahead.  Just to make sure that the grimy little shack you call a home would continue to stay in your possession just a little while longer.  Why should you have to continue living like that when you have the ability to become something so much more?  You could BE someone.  Someone people feared.  Someone that can take whatever he wanted, whatever he deserved.  So what if some people get hurt along the way?  What do you care?  They'll survive.  You did.

            Will this man, Giovanni, be able to help you?  Can he deliver you from your life of basic survival?  Can he give you power?  Can he make do on his promises?

            "So what will it be, comrades?  Who will join Team Rocket?!" Giovanni shouts.

            "GO TEAM ROCKET!  GO TEAM ROCKET!  GO TEAM ROCKET!" the entire crowd chants.

            You look the man in the eye and he to you.  You see it.  This is a man without fear.  This is a man with experience.  With power.  This is a man with plans.  Big plans.  And he will stop at nothing to see to it that they succeed.  He can do everything that he says he will.  He can help you.  He can give you all the power you desire.  He can make you somebody.  No more low-level thefts.  No more scrounging around for a living.  You shout.

            "GO TEAM ROCKET!"


(Team Magma)

            You chatter excitedly with the group you are with.  You are all heading for the destination that was described in the letter you all received.  You are relieved that you are finally with like-minded people.  People that understand your concerns.  People that have the same beliefs as you.  You come up to the landmark.

            The letter said to come to Mano de los Sol, a geological formation east of Lavaridge Town.  Mano de los Sol is a set of jagged rocks jutting upwards and vaguely resembles a human hand.  Surrounding the landmark is miles of dry earth, no vegetation in sight.  You passed by a very sandy route on the way here.  Hiking closer to the landmark, you see people already there.  They are all wearing red.  They all seemed to be wearing sweatshirt hoodies and red legwarmers, though the men wore black slacks whereas the women wore short shorts.  There was one man who was dressed differently.  You assume that he is Maxie, the man who sent you the invitation letter.  He wore a long, stylized shirt, red and black, with the same logo on it that the others were wearing.  A banner with the logo on it was stationed upon the rock formation.  Once you and the group make it to the formation, he greets you.

            "Greetings, my friends!" he says, arms outstretched. "I'm so glad that you all could make it today.  My name is Maxie, and I have invited you all here today to give you a special opportunity."

            He sweeps one arm over the horizon, gesturing to the landscape around you.

            "Look at this majesty.  Mile upon mile of perfectly useable ground.  Just think of how many families we can house just here alone, within the confines of what you can see now.  How many women and children can we save from a life of homelessness by placing them here, on ground that isn't even being used to its full extent?  Hundreds, if not thousands!  And just think of how many more lives we can save if there was more land..."

            You chatter amongst yourselves.  Yes, no one is using this land.  There are no Native Hoennese settlements here.  Beyond this rock formation, there is no national park protection clause prohibiting land development from happening.  Who is stopping you from building homes and relocating the homeless here?

            'But,' you think, 'there are so many people in need of homes, and though this desert is expansive, there's still only so much of it.  How can I help everyone?'

            "Team Magma," Maxie speaks again, "is devoted to increasing Hoenn's landmass.  That is our noble goal.  By increasing the amount of land we can live on, we can provide much more land for people to live on.  As you know, the world's population is increasing at an alarming rate.  As of right now, there are seven billion people on this planet, and at our current state, we simply don't have enough room for everyone to live in.  We can fix this!  We have the capability!  We have the tools!  We have the power!"

            "But how will we do it?" you ask.

            Maxie looks at you.  You see a bemused look in his eyes.  He looked as if he had expected you to say that.

            "It's simple, friend.  We'll decrease the water mass of this planet.  In other words, we'll shrink the size of the oceans and seas."

            One of you speaks up, asking about the potential problems with having less water.  Maybe it was you.

            "I understand your concerns," Maxie replies. "Think of it like this: water never goes anywhere.  When it is evaporated, it merely goes into the clouds, waiting to fall down upon the earth again.  It is never truly destroyed.  If we increase the landmass by shrinking the water mass, we are merely pushing the water out of the way and having it concentrate elsewhere, not getting rid of it entirely.  Now think about Mano de los Sol.  If we were to blow it up with dynamite, would it rise to the clouds and fall back down in a few days, retaining its shape and structure?  No, I'd wager that it wouldn't.  Once a landmass is gone, it's gone forever.  It doesn't have the immortality that the oceans and seas have.  That is why we must protect it!  That is why we must increase the land for all of us, and why taking away the water mass will NOT mean our destruction!"

            "Think of the sea life," he continues. "Do you really think the fish and the Tentacools and Wailmers would mind, or even notice, if we were to shrink the size of their home?  What about humans?  Do you think they would mind if we do nothing and not find ways to make everyone comfortable?  I think you'll find that the answer to those two questions is decidedly different."

            The crowd and you talk amongst yourselves more excitedly now.  Water Pokémon are dumb.  They won't know if a few thousand square miles of water were to be replaced with landmass.  They don't live everywhere in the water mass.  And besides, at the bottom of every ocean and sea, what is there?  Land.  Your homes are already there.  You just need to go and retrieve them.

            "Join with me, my friends!" Maxie says, enthusiastically. "Join with Team Magma and together, we can build a better tomorrow, for all of mankind!  Together, WE can make a difference!"

            "FOR TEAM MAGMA!" someone from the crowd shouts.

            It was most definitely you.

            "FOR TEAM MAGMA!" shouts everyone else.


(Team Aqua)

            You are at the Dewford Town Aquarium Center.  You did not have to pay an entry fee today, for you have a season pass, just as you've always had for the past five years.  Even before that, you've always gone to the aquarium as often as you can, as long as your parents could pay for tickets.  After awhile, they saw reason and purchased a season pass for you.  Then there were the nights where you would sneak out of the house and sneak into the aquarium to see how the inhabitants there lived during the nighttime.  The sights you saw were beautiful beyond words.  You belonged there.  You knew the residents more so than their caretakers.  You knew when one was sick, when one was pregnant, when one was a newcomer, even though everyone always tells you "They all look the same."  But they're not!  Each one of them is special and unique in their own way, just as people are.  Or, so you once thought.  Lately, you're starting to think things...

            The aquarium is empty today, and not because you snuck in during closing hours either.  No, it's broad daylight and the place is still empty.  Empty, save for you and several other people.  There were ads in all the local papers and strewn all over the town, talking about a special meeting for people who love the ocean as much as you do.  It was to take place today at the aquarium.  The people behind this meeting must have a lot of money to buy off the aquarium for the day to ensure privacy.

            As you look at the other people around you, you notice that they are all in shape and quite tanned.  Some are still in wetsuits.  You suppose that they are all heavily involved with the ocean and sea, in a hands-on way.  You don't recognize any of them as anyone who works here at the aquarium.  You continue to walk to the center exhibit, where the fliers said the meeting would take place.  An Octillery places an arm on the window pane belonging to one of the exhibits next to you.  You know this Octillery, and as a way of saying hello back to her, you place a hand on the opposite side of the window, directly opposite of where her tentacle is currently placed.  Your meet and greet is short, however, as you don't want to be late for the meeting, so you take your hand away and continue walking to the center room.

            As you near the room, you hear voices coming from the distance.  You hear boisterous laughter.  As you enter the center exhibit room, you are first drawn to the several dozen Goldeen, Seaking, Finneon, Lumineon, Remoraid, Magikarp, Qwilfish, and Feebas, all swimming in organized schools in the central tube.  Glass windows showing other Pokémon (ones that can't be put in the same environment as the more peaceful fish species) surround the circular room.  The voices come from the people standing besides the central tube.

            Amongst the group are people dressed in blue- and white-striped shirts, blue jeans with stylized circles embroidered onto the sides, black gloves, and a blue bandana with a stylized 'A' on it.  People who aren't dressed like that you guess are people like you, invited here by the group organizing this.  The people in similar clothing you guess are part of said organization.

            "HA HA HA HA!" you hear.

            You notice the laughter coming from one of the people in the group.  He is dressed in black pants and a black dress shirt with a rather revealing v-neck, showing off his pectorals and the fact that he shaves his chest.  He is also wearing a bandana.  Just the way he composes himself, you can tell that he is full of life (and perhaps himself) and is very approachable.  He is speaking to someone as if they were an old friend and you find yourself inexplicably jealous of the stranger.  It makes no sense but, how cool would it be to have someone as lively as this man as a close friend?  You decide that this man possesses the ability to woo both man and woman alike, no matter the preference.

            The man notices the new people entering the room and grins.

            "Ahoy there, mateys!  Come on in!  Don't be shy!  We're all friends here!" he shouts, waving you all in.

            You wonder if he has an indoor voice.  You walk closer to the group, along with several other outsiders.

            "I think we should get started.  It's been lovely talking to you, Shelly.  Hopefully we can do it again, real soon."

            You wonder what she said to get his attention so completely.

            "Haha, welcome everybody!  I see only the most attractive squirts decided to show up today!"

            You decide to take that as a personal compliment.

            "In case you've been on land too long, allow me the pleasure of introducing you...to myself!  Ahaha!  The name's Admiral Nepdon, but ya'll can call me Archie.  No need for titles with us.  Everyone's part of the crew in Team Aqua!"

            He suddenly stretches his arms out and twirls around in place like a little kid.

            "Looook at all this beauty!  Life-sustaining water as far as you can see!  It's exactly like it was millions of years ago!  Can you feel the serenity?  The peaceful cohabitation of all the Pokémon species behind me, doing what man cannot do after all these years he's spent being the dominant species on land?  Reminds me of why I left the land to begin with."

            You think about your last romp in the ocean.  You had gotten into a fight with a friend and just wanted to get away from it all, so you took your surfboard and wetsuit and headed out to the beach.  You swam out past where you were allowed to surf and just laid there, lazily coasting on the waters.  You had both hands submerged in the water.  You remember something brushing your hand as it swam past.  You didn't know what it was, but making contact with the creatures that live in the ocean was nothing unusual to you.  You just felt happy that the ocean life trusted you enough to get close to you.  The feeling of peace you felt in the ocean was something you could never replicate in your bedroom or with others.  You've often pondered about living life on a boat (or a yacht).

            "Archie, you're daydreaming again," said one of the uniformed men.

            You snap back to attention and notice that Archie had fallen into a similar trance.

            "What?  Oh, right.  Sorry, mateys.  It was a wonderful experience, my first time on the high seas by myself, you can be assured."

            He has a smile on his face as he recalls his distant memory.  But then he shakes his head slightly and the smile is washed off.

            "But that's not why I called you all here, is it?  No, what I want is to get you all in on a wonderful opportunity.  Here's something a professor told me long ago: all life originated from the ocean.  Without all this water around us, none of us would be here today.  Not us humans; not the Pokémon we see before us.  We owe everything to the ocean.  And what do we do instead?  We kill it by causing global warming, making the oceans and seas recede onto themselves, pushing them further and further back for land, land that means nothing to us if we don't live long enough to use it.

            "So we've got to fight back!  And how do we do that?  We increase the spans of the seas!  We make the ocean come back and reclaim the beaches!  We do away with pesky islands the size of a dining room table!  We return this planet to the glorious state it was once in!

            "I ask that you once again look at all the varieties of Pokémon that swim around us at this very moment.  As I've said before, all life springs from water.  Increasing the water mass will introduce new species of Pokémon we've never could have imagined!  Just think: if we swallow Mt. Pyre in water, we could eventually see the first Water/Fire type Pokémon!  And it will be OUR doing!"

            "But how would we increase the water mass?" you blurt out, suddenly afraid that it was a stupid question and that Archie will hate you forever for asking such a thing.

            He looks at you, perhaps surprised that someone broke free of his charisma for even a moment.  Stupid!  Stupid stupid stupid!  His full attention is now on you and you have failed him!  You wish you could just crawl into a bottomless crevice on the seafloor and die.

            "Ahaha!  I'm glad you asked, my fine matey!  I may not look like it, but I'm quite the resourceful captain.  I have the tools and designs necessary to carry out our task.  Why, there's even a legend..."

            "Archie, these aren't ours just yet," pipes up one of the uniformed men.

            "Aw, lay off won't ya?  Everyone here is part of the crew in spirit, officially documented or otherwise," Archie replies.

            Somebody in the crowd speaks up, asking about the potential problems with flooding the world with water and reducing the landmass, which is where people live.  Perhaps it was you again.

            "A great question to be sure!" he replies. "And to that, I say look at Pacifidlog Town.  A whole town floating on top of the seas!  Everything there is connected to one another and the town itself isn't simply drifting afloat in the sea like a piece of driftwood.  No, it allows people to live on the waters without having to invest in a boat!  It is locked into land so a strong breeze can't send it to a new zipcode.  It is proof that humans CAN live on the waters as if they were living on land!  The town does not impede the flow of the sea and all the life in it.  Just think of a whole city designed just like it!  If the whole world were like this, think of the possibilities!  It would be impossible to poison the oceans with oil because of sheer volume!  New life would spring up constantly!  The poor landlubbers that had the unfortunate mistake of being born in a landlocked town would know the joys that we all know intimately."

            You again remember your lazy surfing adventure.  You would want everyone to know what that's like.  And what of the children Archie just mentioned?  The ones who can't make it to the waters, but so desperately want to be a part of it?  You want to help them realize their dreams.

            "The land's not going anywhere.  It's merely being pushed down.  And we can build on top of the waters and we can, we MUST, accommodate to the waters, not the other way around.  So, what do you say, me hearties?!  Are ya part of the crew?!  Are you ready to do some good to this world?!"

            "YEAH!!!" everyone shouts.

            "GO, TEAM AQUA!" shouts the woman from earlier.

            Not to be outshone, everyone else repeats.

            "GO, TEAM AQUA!"


(Team Galactic)

            Humans are curious.  Illogical.  It is truth.  You have known since you were two.  You have known things since you were two.

            It is sad.  You are human.  Are you illogical?  You think the statistical probability is low.  But percentages lie.  Like humans.  Why do humans lie?  What evolutionary benefit is there?  You see none.  Thus, you do not lie.  Humans find this discomforting.  Why?

            Why?  Why?  You are constantly curious as to why things are.  You are more comfortable with the twenty-fifth letter of the Latin alphabet than you are with any other letter.  That is a joke.  You do not experience heightened relaxation when audibly representing the other twenty-five letters nor non-Latin characters.

            You find it discomforting that you always ask why.  You deduce that it is because it is proof that you do not know as much as you think you know.  You know math, science, history.  You do not know why you should switch to German when acknowledging a person's olfactory system reacting to dust particles in the air, nor why you should acknowledge such a common event to begin with.  You do not know why you should hold a door open for a completely able-bodied human to transfer through prior to yourself, nor why the individual's sex chromosomes makes this abnormal ruling more concrete.  You cannot fathom the origins of "it" or why you have suddenly taken on its identity via slight human contact.

            Why do you know so much but know so little?  At one point, you predicted that you knew approximately eighty-three percent of everything.  You do not.  You know approximately between eleven and eighteen percent of everything.  "Everything" is immeasurable.  You find it frightening how little you know.  If you do not know why images of household felines using incorrect grammar are humorous, what else do you not know about?

            A man has an answer to your conundrum.  The solution is brilliant in its simplicity.

            You happened upon this man quite by accident.  You recall your first meeting with the man.  You were at the Canalave Library.  You are always at the Canalave Library.  You have read every book.  You have viewed every tape.  You have memorized every map.  You had moved on to art books, which you have thus far avoided due to them consisting mostly of pictures that were designed for evoking emotion and meaningless personal philosophy.  The man had walked up to you from behind, not being silent about it at all.  You do not know if he was trying to be stealthy.  Some humans try to be stealthy.

            "Hello," he had said.

            "Hello," you replied back, as that was the appropriate response to a greeting.

            "I have seen you here before," he continued. "You have read many of the books here.  But you are struggling with this one book.  And the book before it.  And the one before that.  Those were all art books.  You cannot understand them, can you?"

            Your extensive read of psychology textbooks and self-proclaimed professionals tell you that this man is a face reader.  He is good at reading faces.  He is good at reading your face.  Is your face readable?  Most people you have encountered have said no, so therefore this man must be really good at reading faces.  An alternate hypothesis is that you do not have anything on your face to read.  But now there is something.

            "No, I cannot comprehend these books," you say.

            "You do not know why you cannot understand these books, am I correct?"

            Also in your psychology textbooks was the phenomenon of telepathy.  You conclude that this man can read your mind.  You give him your answer in thought, as it is customary to do so in front of a telepathist.

            "I cannot read your mind," he says audibly. "I am merely vocalizing my theories, which do not need to be formulated in the form of a question."

            "Okay.  I do not know why I cannot understand these books."

            "I do."

            For the first time since the moon went into its waxing gibbous phase this year, you are genuinely surprised by what someone said.

            "You do?"


            How did this man, whom you are statistically safe in saying that you have never met before, know the answer to a personal problem?

            "I, too, cannot understand these books," he continues. "There are many things I do not know.  The look on your face as you struggle to comprehend these pictures mirrors my own face at precisely your age.  I wished to know all, and failed."

            You are enraptured.  He speaks as if he is parroting your most private thoughts, yet he claims that the thoughts are his own.  If he is not a telepath as he suggests, then the thoughts must be his own.

            "I despaired.  How was I any different from the others if I could not accomplish what they could not?  How could I be a success as an individual organism if I could not know a fraction of one percent of everything that there is to know?  I gathered that I knew around ten to seventeen percent of everything, and that was not enough.  It was also erroneous."

            "As for the art books," he continued, finally addressing your current problem, "you cannot understand them as they are not meant to be looked upon with unwavering science or mathematical formulas.  Those things cannot be changed to fit our worldview more comfortably.  They always are, always have been, and always will be.  The number of neutrons in fluorine will always be ten.  The first ten digits to pi will always be three point one four one five nine two six five three.  But two people looking at Sunday Afternoon on the Island of the Grand-Jatte will see two different things.  A hundred people will see a hundred things.  And yet it is one painting, unchanging.  This phenomenon is unfathomable to those like us.  It defies the hard sciences in its plasticity.  This is why the science of art is so beyond us."

            You nod.  The logic behind his words is sound.  You feel a sting of embarrassment at the overall simplicity of his answer.

            "This only answers your current predicament with comprehending art books, however.  Your true concern is still unanswered."

            You are puzzled.  What is your "true concern?"

            "You desire to know everything, and yet you cannot.  It is an impossible task.  How do you cope with that?" he answers, providing counter-evidence of his claims of no telepathic powers.

            "I read to understand more," you answer, not realizing the rhetoric nature of the question.

            "Yes, but there is an easier way.  I have found a solution to yours and mine problem."

            How can an impossible situation be made possible?

            "I have found a way to make it so that we can know everything."

            There is a brief moment of frightfulness at his statement, or rather how he portrayed it, with a hint of emotion, but it was quickly replaced with anticipation.

            "In this world, in this reality we reside in, we cannot hope to achieve our goal.  We must do what a car mechanic does when an automotive engine no longer becomes serviceable: we must discard the old and replace it with a new model."

            His analogy perplexes you.  How is a planet like a car engine?  How is a raven like a writing station?  You were told that before, and you found the question ridiculous.  There are zero correlations between an avian with popular connotations attached to it and a wooden desk that is primarily used for writing fictional tales for public consumption.

            "I see that you do not understand my vision.  There is pure energy in this world.  This energy is unlike anything modern science has uncovered thus far and is harvestable.  I believe that a sufficient amount of this untapped energy can produce anything we desire.  I have big visions.  With this energy, and some help from outside parties, we can remake this world.  We can remake the universe.  We can shape it into anything we want.  We can make it so that the only information is the information we can understandably strive to achieve to know.  Why should we despair about all the information we cannot know when we can simply trim the excess fat and wash our hands of it?"

            His idea is ridiculous.

            "Instead of trying to know everything, we can make it so that we already know everything," he concludes.

            Is it possible?  Even if it is, is it right?  It would be bending the rules, stopping in the middle of a marathon and moving the end goal to a foot in front of you.

            But you would still win the marathon.  You have prepared for your whole life.  Why should you not make the event as desirable to your needs as possible?

            "But...how?" you ask.

            He explains the science to you, the energy, his company that is already siphoning the energy for both his own needs and that of the general public, his secret organization, Team Galactic, that more directly furthers his goals of obtaining all knowledge, the legendary myths of Sinnoh that could hold a grain of truth in them, everything.  You understand it all.  None of it is as complex and abstract as this art book you were perusing.

            "I have explained everything to you.  What is your choice?  You could help me and together, we can create a universe where you are a success, you thrive, you know everything there is to know, you will be complete."

            You will be complete.  This feeling in you, this unexplainable, hollow feeling.  He can rid you of that.  It is scientifically within your grasp.  You can feel satisfied, something you have not experienced in so long.

            "I choose to go with you."


(Old Team Plasma)

            You work at the Pokémon Shelter in Lacunosa Town.  Every day you see beaten and battered Pokémon come in.  You find it surprising that Rock and Steel type Pokémon can even be beaten and battered.  It just goes to show how cruel people can be to Pokémon.  You never got why people could do such horrible things to such wonderful creatures.  When has there ever been a Pokémon uprising?  Never.  No matter how bad humans treat Pokémon, they remain loyal to you.  You can't understand why.  It is humans who make war with one another, not Pokémon.

            You have just finished your shift today and leave the shelter.  You find a group of people standing around the town center across the street.  You wonder what is going on and make your way into the crowd.  You push your way to the front, past a young man with ridiculous amounts of green hair.  You see a bunch of men and women dressed in very odd outfits.  Two of them are holding up a banner with an intricate design on it.  Standing in the middle of the crowd is an older man in an even more ridiculous outfit.  He is draped in robes and his collar is jagged and pointing straight up, as if he didn't want you to see his mouth for some reason.  Who are these people?  The man holds up his left hand, silencing the murmuring crowd.

            "Greetings, citizens of Lacunosa Town," his voice bellows.

            You can't see it because of the fancy clothing, but he has a microphone clipped onto him, allowing him to speak loudly without straining himself.  Even if you had known, you still wouldn't know where the speakers are.

            "My name is Ghetsis, and I am representing Team Plasma.  I have come here today to speak to you about Pokémon liberation."

            The townspeople are once again talking amongst themselves.  What does he mean by "Pokémon liberation?"

            "I am sure you are all aware of just how special these creatures we call Pokémon really are.  They are capable of incredible feats that we are only just now becoming able to replicate with advanced technology.  They can control the elements, achieve flight, and even have access to psychic abilities far beyond the most powerful human psychics.  And what do we humans do?  We capture them, removing them from their homes and family, never to let them out of their prisons unless it is to battle other prisoners in fights for our amusement.  And because of their high-tech prisons, they can't even say 'no' to us.  Only the strongest willed Pokémon can resist our words, and what did we do then?  We implemented a 'badge system' so that even those Pokémon become subservient.  Who here can honestly tell me that I'm lying?"

            No one speaks up.  You think back to the patient at the shelter from yesterday.  She was a poisoned Lillipup, abandoned on the side of the road, without even being healed first.  Clumps of hair were missing and she was bruised and bleeding in several places.  One of her eyes had been swollen shut.  She's still in intensive care at the Pokémon Center because your shelter's tools were inefficient for the job.  What kind of trainer would leave their Pokémon in such a condition?

            "Pokémon are capable of so much more than just battling," Ghetsis continues. "But we think nothing of it, seeing ourselves as superiors to them.  The reality is, it is they who are superior to us!  We humans have so much to learn from them!  There is only one course of action we humans can make to rectify this mistake.  We must liberate the Pokémon!  Set them free!  Break their chains bounding them to us!"

            The crowd is now murmuring to itself much louder than before.  The general consensus was that of bewilderment.  Free the Pokémon?!  What a radical idea!  It would surely topple the governmental order!

            'But yes!' you think to yourself.  This man's words were truth!  If you were a Pokémon, you wouldn't freely put up with being made to battle against your will day in and day out.  You would have to be forced to do so!  So why should actual Pokémon be expected to think any differently?  Those Pokémon have loved ones they care for!  Families and friends!  And when you capture a Pokémon, you're abducting them and taking them away from those people!  And the badges are just heavier chains for those Pokémon that dared to rebel against their unfortunate fate!

            "I know this is a major decision you must make, and not one we of Team Plasma will force upon you.  We do not expect all of you to agree with us right away.  We have set patterns that we are comfortable and familiar with, and it takes a long time to break from those things, even if they are for our betterment."

            That Lillipup wouldn't be in the condition she's in now if she didn't have to be that trainer's punching bag.  None of the Pokémon at the shelter would be there if Pokémon were separated from humans.  We could all live in harmony!

            "But we implore you to think about where you stand with Pokémon right now, what wondrous possibilities open up when we become equals to Pokémon, and seriously consider our proposition.  I, Ghetsis, and all of Team Plasma, thank you for your time."

            He does a slight bow and the uniformed men and women form a tight circle around him, as if expecting an attack.  Someone in the crowd starts applauding.  A few others soon follow.  Pretty soon, most of the audience is applauding, including you.  Ghetsis smiles a kindly smile.

            The crowd soon disperses and you walk up to Team Plasma.  The uniformed men and women look at you with heightened suspicion.  Ghetsis sees you, smiles, and walks up to you.  His followers step out of the way upon seeing him put his trust in you.

            "I just heard you talk, Ghetsis," you say. "I've never heard someone speak so directly to me before.  Everything you said was like shining a beacon in the darkness.  I work at the Pokémon shelter in town, and I see the consequences of humans abusing their control over Pokémon every day.  I've been content with just helping Pokémon recover from their times with humans.  I've never thought about taking such a radical approach to the problem before!  If humans were to liberate Pokémon, I wouldn't have to see so much pain every day!  We could achieve true harmony!"

            Ghetsis nods sagely.

            "Do you have any Pokémon yourself, child?"

            "No.  I've never been comfortable with the idea of the Poké Ball.  The jobs I've held before had me use Pokémon, though.  Some were kept in Poké Balls.  Others I never saw being put into Poké Balls, but I assume they were."

            "They were no doubt being constrained until they were needed again.  Tell me, did they get to go home after their work shift was done?  Did they get to go see a movie after work?  Did they get to go out with friends on their off day?  Did they even have days off of work?"

            "No..." you say, suddenly realizing it all for the first time.

            The situation was much worse than you thought.

            "They're not even given basic human rights," you say to Ghetsis, just as you are discovering the fact yourself.

            "That's because humans sadly believe that they are better than Pokémon.  Tell me this then, child: can you bend steel girders?  Can you vibrate the air around you to the point of shattering glass?  Tell me, are you really better than Pokémon?"

            You know the answer.

            "But do not think that I am saying that Pokémon are better than humans either, child.  After all, it was humans who invented the technology to enslave Pokémon.  It was also humans who invented the technology to heal Pokémon at a rapid rate.  And it is humans who invented the clothes you wear, the comforts you enjoy, and the home you live in. I am not saying that one species is better than the other.  I am saying that both are equals to each other, but current society is not mirroring this belief."

            "They should," you catch yourself saying.

            Ghetsis returns his smile to his warm face.

            "Perhaps you can do more good with Team Plasma than at the Pokémon shelter," he says. "With your kind of determination, we can spread the word far and wide and more people can see the errors of their ways.  Join us, and we can make this world a better place for Pokémon to live in!  We can become their equals instead of their horrid oppressors!  We can make this world a brighter place for everyone."

            A place on Team Plasma?  You think of all the Pokémon you could help by voicing their concerns for them to humans all around the region.  You could be their savior!

            "Okay, I'll join.  I'll join Team Plasma and make this world right again!"

            Ghetsis' smile grows wider, briefly exposing his sharp canines.

            "Come, my child.  There is much work to be done."

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