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[Team Rocket Base]
The Team Rocket base lood on the edge of the forest, a formidable structure surrounded by high walls and razor-wire fencing.
The sound of the wind rustling through the trees gave way to the low hum of machinery and the occasional clank of tal.
A chill ran down Duplica's spine as she was brought before Giovanni, the leader of Team Rocket. She looked around the room, taking in every detail. The walls were lined with tal cabinets filled with dical supplies, while a large table dominated the center of the room. The table was littered with tools and equipnt, and in the center lay a Beedrill, its body wrapped in bandages.
Duplica wore a purple jumpsuit, emblazoned with the Team Rocket insignia on her chest. The fabric was slick against her skin, and she could feel sweat beading on her forehead. Her captors had dragged her through the base, past row after row of grunts and their Pokémon partners until they had finally arrived at this place.
As she looked over at Giovanni, Duplica saw that he was dressed in a sharp black suit. His eyes were cold and calculating as they swept over the room, taking in every detail. She shuddered at the sight of him, feeling like she was in the presence of so ancient force that could crush her with a single glance.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Domino was thrown to the floor at Giovanni's feet. Her hair was a tangled ss, and she looked up at Giovanni with a mix of fear and defiance in her eyes.
The sound of the heavy tal door echoed throughout the room, sending a shiver down Duplica's spine. She looked up to see the Beedrill on the table stir, emitting a low, pained buzz. The doctors in the room turned to look at the newcors, their faces reflecting a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
As Duplica stumbled forward, Giovanni's cold, calculating gaze bore down on her like a heavyweight. She could feel his power, a force that seed to seep into her very soul, leaving her helpless and vulnerable.
"Continue," Giovanni commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a sharp knife.
The doctors quickly ignored Duplica and Domino, their attention fixed on the Beedrill writhing in agony on the table.
Duplica raised her gaze to et Giovanni's, her heartbeat echoing loudly in her ears.
"M-My apologies, Sir, for not accomplishing the mission. I assure you, Erika remains blissfully unaware. She doesn't know about the drug trafficking, the under-the-table political kickbacks, the illegal arms deals, or even the clandestine corporate espionage conducted under her na," she stamred, her voice quavering with dread.
Giovanni's eyes narrowed into thin slits as he reached over to the surgical tray. A couple of surgeons, scrub-clad and masked, tried to intervene, their gloved hands hovering uncertainly over the sterile instrunts. But a single glowering glance from Giovanni stilled their protests, the unsaid warning clear. His hand closed around a porcelain cup sitting among the surgical tools, lifting it and placing it with an authoritative thud before Duplica.
She recoiled in disgust at the black tar-like substance inside.
Duplica felt her heart pounding in her chest as she saw the cold and calculating expression on Giovanni's face.
"Please, Sir, I do better. Please give
another chance," she begged, tears streaming down her face.
But Giovanni remained unmoved. He turned his attention to Domino, who was looking down at the floor, a picture of abject terror.
"Drink it," Domino whispered, her voice barely audible.
" W-What ?"
" Drink it."
Duplica gulped and with tears in her eyes she raised the cup to her lips and drank, her body wracked with spasms as the foul liquid coursed through her body. At first, she felt a dull ache in her stomach, as if she had swallowed a hot coal. But then the pain intensified, spreading like wildfire through her body.
She doubled over, clutching her stomach as she gasped for air. The room began to spin, and she felt herself slipping away into darkness.
At first, Duplica thought she might be able to fight off the poison. But as the minutes ticked by, she realized that she was dood. Her mind felt fuzzy as if she were trying to think through a thick fog. Her body was wracked with spasms, each one more intense than the last.
The pain was unbearable, like nothing she had ever experienced before. It felt as if her insides were being eaten away by acid. She scread, but the sound was drowned out by the buzzing of the Beedrill on the table.
Tears stream down my face as I try to rember where it all went wrong. How did I end up here, on the brink of death in a Team Rocket base?
I just wanted to be a model.
Duplica cried out, a desperate plea for rcy, for forgiveness, for anything that might make the pain go away.
But there is no one to hear her, no one hero to save her from the darkness that is closing in.
And then, as her body convulses in one final spasm, Duplica felt herself slipping away. The pain faded, replaced by a numbness that spread from my toes to my head. I closed my eyes, and for a mont, there was nothing.
But then, in the distance, I hear a voice. It is faint at first, but it grows louder with each passing mont. It is a voice I have heard before, a voice that I know well.
It is the voice of my mother, calling my na. And as the darkness closes in, I feel her embrace, warm and comforting, a final reminder of the love I have lost.
And then, there is nothing but silence.
...
Giovanni watched Duplica with a cold, calculating gaze, his expression unreadable. He had seen this before, too many tis to count.
Project Venom's poison, the one that eroded the mind and body, had claid another victim.
Duplica's screams grew fainter, and she collapsed onto the ground in a heap. Her body twitched and convulsed as the poison continued to ravage her from within. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and a thin line of drool trickled down the side of her mouth.
The doctors in the room watched in horror, they had seen this before, too many tis to count. And yet, each ti, it was no less horrifying.
Giovanni's eyes were narrow as he turns his attention to Agent Domino. The room went silent, the only sound the low buzz of the Beedrill still writhing in pain on the table.
"Why did that superhero have Project Venom's poison? A Project under your control." Giovanni's voice is cold and controlled, but there is a hint of nace in his tone.
Agent Domino's face contorts into a mask of terror. Her eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape, but there is nowhere to run.
"I don't know, sir," she stamrs, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Project Venom's poison has been extracted for study. M-Maybe, this superhero got it from the labs !"
Giovanni takes a step forward, his expression unreadable. "Is that so?"
"Yes, Sir. After all the years I have worked for you, why would I lie?"
Domino shook her head frantically.
Giovanni's lips curl into a sneer.
"What if your words are a lie?" He took another step forward, looming over the cowering agent.
Domino imdiately raised her head to look Giovanni deep in the eye.
"Sir, you can have my mories psychically probed. I would never dare to betray you!"
As Domino's fervent proclamation echoed in the room, the tension heightened. The ominous hum of the Beedrills' wings dwindled, their tallic sheen dimming to a ghostly whisper. The silence beca palpable, broken only by Domino's irregular breaths, each one a small act of defiance against her growing fear.
"Is that so?" A new voice chid in, chilling in its indifference. Domino stiffened, her eyes widening as she turned to face the new figure.
Erging from the shadows, wtwo stepped forward, his piercing gaze resting on Domino. His eyes glowed with an eerie luminescence, akin to a robotic cold, calculating stare. The air around him seed to hum with raw, untad power, and the levitating Pokemon carried an aura of unflinching power and control.
He moved closer, and Domino could feel her heart hamring against her ribcage, each beat echoing the silent countdown of her fate. wtwo raised a finger and placed it gently, yet firmly, on her forehead.
"Human," wtwo's voice, as chilling and unfeeling as the depths of space, echoed in the room.
"Y-Yes," Domino stuttered, her voice barely a whisper.
"Do you see the beauty of it? The inevitability? You rise, only to fall," wtwo's words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a death knell ringing in Domino's ears.
"W-What?" was all she managed before her world turned upside down.
With a flick of wtwo's finger, Domino's body was ripped off the ground, levitating in the air as if she were weightless. wtwo's eyes glowed brighter, a radiant display of his terrifying psychic prowess. Domino could only scream as ethereal tendrils, like ghostly specters, began to extricate themselves from her head, representing her thoughts, mories, and deepest secrets all laid bare.
Suddenly, with a bone-jarring crash, she slamd into the cold floor, her body unmoving, her eyes vacant and empty. The room filled with an eerie silence, punctuated only by the subtle hum of wtwo's psychic energy.
Giovanni raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he observed Domino. He was well aware of the risks involved with psychic mory extraction. It was a dangerous ga, akin to dancing on the edge of a knife. It was known to cause serious ntal illnesses, such as psychosis, severe depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder. In the worst cases, like Domino's, it could render a person catatonic - a shell of their forr self.
Even for wtwo, one of the most powerful psychics, this rule held.
"How did that superhero get their hands on Project Venom's poison?" Giovanni's voice cut through the room's silence, his gaze locked onto wtwo's glowing eyes.
"Domino was intercepted by an unknown entity before she could approach Ash Ketchum," wtwo began, his telepathic voice resonating in the room. "The Project Venom sample was extracted at that juncture, and a false set of mories was implanted in Domino to cover the loss."
"Is that so?" Giovanni mused, his words barely more than a whisper in the large room.
wtwo gave a slight nod before levitating slightly higher, his form beginning to shimr.
"As I always say," he began, the haunting echo of his telepathic voice reverberating through the room, "A God doesn't need to lie to re mortals."
"Oh?" Giovanni responded, his eyebrows slightly arching as he noticed wtwo's penetrating gaze fixed on the incapacitated Domino.
"You humans are weak," wtwo continued, his tone as cold and unwavering as the harshest of winters. "You scream, you cry, you perish, and you leave nothing but silence in your wake."
"That's what it ans to be human," Giovanni retorted, his voice steady and unyielding against wtwo's harsh critique.
wtwo emitted a sound akin to a chuckle, the unnatural, chanical laughter sending chills down the spines of everyone present. "And that's the difference between a God and a man."
With those final words still lingering in the air, wtwo's form began to shimr. In a blink, he was gone, leaving behind only an ethereal afterglow, a chilling reminder of the God-like being that had just been present.
Giovanni's gaze shifted from the space to the guards lining the room's periter. His eyes then fell on Domino, her vacant stare fixed on the ceiling, her body unmoving on the floor. A hint of a cold smile touched his lips. "Dispose of her," he ordered, his voice as cold as the glacial walls of the room. "I have no use for broken toys."
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[ Omake Paragraph ]
It is often imagined that if Slugma sleeps sowhere away from the hot magma vents or the Earth's mantle, both of which many call ho, they will harden into a petrified Slugma-shaped statue. This is not exactly the case; a Slugma will harden into rock but will evolve in doing so, becoming a Magcargo. And yet Slugma resists this evolution with almost as much raw determination as most Pokemon resist death – a likely source for this common misconception.
Slugma is probably the oldest Pokemon known to science, an anaerobic relic of the Precambrian age. They have had only one significant change since that bygone era, one which allowed them to survive in the oxygen-laden atmosphere of the modern world: still, they prefer sulfur for respiration, and are therefore usually found in locations where sulfur is common enough to survive on. The reason their geno is so resistant to change is probably because of Slugma's staunch conservatism - many refuse to mate with their shiny, gray counterparts, let alone other species in their egg group – and this fear of change applies equally well to an individual's evolution as to the species as a whole.
Or perhaps this explanation too is a red herring, and the true answer is a far simpler one. Magcargo, after all, burn hotter than the sun, and most larval Slugma, even with their enormous tolerance for heat (being made of magma themselves) have been accidentally scorched by their mothers soon after hatching, for Magcargo are prized as incubators. Although Magcargo themselves do not burn in the manner of Magmar, few Slugma realizes this, and none wish, like a pyromaniac Midas, to make everything they touch turn to ashes.
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