biggerer snippet

“What?! No! What is it--”

“How did it escape, I thought we had it for sure- What is it doing?!”

“It... it's mimicing the attack! Run!!”

“Once again, you thought you could capture me. It's... cute, really. Adorable. But you force me to repeat myself. I cannot be captured. And perhaps you underestimated my brother's talents of mimicry. Perhaps you assumed I myself could not possess that power. But, perhaps it is time for you and your third little... mistake... to learn once and for all that I shall not be tamed, and I will seek the death of all who oppose me. Starting, of course, with you.”

–

ROCKET LOG – AUGUST 11 [REDACTED]
On The Attacks On The Safari Zone And Disappearance of Class B Member [REDACTED]

Planned raid to capture rare Safari Zone Pokemon canceled after terrorist attack. Locals report ghost sightings shortly before event. Descriptions match up with similar sighting just before Cinnabar power outage. Artist's renderings match physical appearance of failed clones codenamed PROJECT MISSINGNO and PROJECT M, both part of OPERATION DUPLICATE. May possibly connected to disappearance of Class B Member [REDACTED], who was sighted in Cinnabar by Executive [REDACTED] before vanishing without a trace. Class B Member [REACTED] was last sighted with former OPERATION DUPLICATE project leader [REDACTED] and an unknown trainer shortly before the Cinnabar lab caught fire...

The newly anointed Rocket boss shook her head as she read over the old logs she'd unearthed in Giovanni's old desk. It was kind of a tragic tale, really. The Executive mentioned in the log file had been this particular agent's mother, and had never forgotten. Though her original case files had said she was friendly and affable sometime in the past, by the time this particular agent had risen up through the ranks, she had grown bitter and depressed over the loss of her child. It came to a head during the war against Lance, when she, perhaps willfully, threw herself in front of the guns, crying out for her 'baby girl'. Tired of life, tired of pining. She had always been able to see her nightmares while she lay awake.

Depressing, was the word. But, perhaps she would be vindicated in death, because the new boss happened to notice, reading over this log, that it described incidents curiously similar to those starting to happen again recently. Just the other day, explosions rattled Viridian City, and the power grid went out. They had only just been able to get it back online. A ghostly figure had been sighted shortly beforehand... though in these reports there had been two.

Maybe it was too soon to get involved with this sort of shit again, after the Great War. The organization – her organization – was still healing from the massive disruption in the command chain, she couldn't help but think to herself. So many Executives had been lost besides the wounded mother. Many grunts, many higher-class Rockets... There had been a lot of promotions in the months since. And that's not to mention the stress it put on the other teams, and on her other friends. She herself still wasn't sure whether she had gained all the weight back from the weeks in jail.

She had always known that Lance was the enemy of Team Rocket in particular. But when he snapped, everyone felt the effects. He became a genocidal maniac, after he dropped his facade. Bent first on taking down what he perceived as corruption, and then, she remembered hearing from the murmurs of her friends, aiming to capture Arceus, and use its power to wipe out all humanity except for himself. Just him and the Pokemon. The Pokemon that didn't even like him, and she would know better than anyone of that fact. In the end, 'twas his own Dragonite that dealt the final blow. The boss chuckled darkly, hadn't that been a show. Bit his head right off.

It hadn't been too long since then... sometimes it still didn't feel like she was The Boss. When Viridian was attacked and the injuries totaled, it felt surreal to be the one to issue the commands to rebuild. She had always been under the understanding that she wasn't meant to issue direct orders, only pass them down, because it wasn't her organization.

But it was her organization now, and she was meant to protect it. Maybe the other, left over Executives were right, maybe it was leftover terrorists from Lance's militia. Maybe she was just chasing Zebstrika with this little theory.

She was interrupted during her read by a grunt with a concerned look on his face, and looked up to address him. “State your business.”

“Executive Azurra- er... Boss, whatever attacked Viridian's attackin' our hideout on Cinnabar. Just went and blew the place completely to shit. Injuries bein' flown into the Mount Silver base.”

“Tell Jax to teleport over and to gather water from the... hideaway. She'll know what you mean.” Azurra shook her head. “I think I have a lead on these attacks. Call Agent Dragon and tell her I need to borrow that Garchomp. After that eruption, I'm going to need to do some tunneling.”

“...The fuck you need to do tunnelin' for?”

“Investigation.” She looked down at the paper. “Do you remember the escaped experiments from Operation Duplicate? About thirty years ago now.”

“Heard of the project, not the fuck-up.”

“Mmm. I wasn't there, but I've read up on it. Two unfinished clones broke free and managed to escape... a few years later they were reported seen again, supposedly attacked Fuschia, then vanished after the Cinnabar Mansion blew up again. Maybe I'm on a wild Goomy chase, but... these attacks bear some resemblance to the attack on Fuschia.”

“Huh. But how likely is that? They ain't been sighted for twenty years.”

“I admit, not too likely, compared to the theory that it's leftover Lindwyrm terrorists. But I think it's worth looking into anyway. Besides, I think it would be fun to solve a few mysteries, don't you?“

“Ehhh... not really...”

Azurra shook her head and sighed. “You're no fun, Gary.” She stuffed the case file into a bag strapped to her waist, hidden just under her favorite Rocket overcoat, and pulled from the same bag a red and white ball. “I'll be leaving shortly. Send Agent Dragon up here. And please, try not to call her 'shorty' again.”

The grunt shuddered as he was reminded of the last time someone decided to do that. “Y-yes ma'am right away ma'am.” He dashed off, as Azurra opened a set of sliding glass doors to the balcony of her office, and pressed the button on the Poke Ball. From it, a large bird of cream color and chocolate materialized in a flash of white, and its red crown of feathers blew gently in the breeze of the spring day on which these events were talking place. The Pidgeot fluttered onto the railing of the balcony and stared down to the streets of Viridian below, before looking up to its master.

Azurra looked the bird in the eyes. “Easy, Murderous. We're waiting on a quick trade, then we'll be going for a fly.”

The bird made a discontent noise.

“I know, I know, where's the battling. I promise you, no matter what the case is, you'll get a battle.” She turned to face the door again as she heard footsteps approaching.

Entering the office now was a young woman of short stature, with skin of copper and hair the color of ripe cherries. She wore not the usual Rocket uniforms, but instead an outfit of her own choosing, a black T-shirt with a Zorua logo printed on it, a red skirt, a violet vest, though not quite as violet as her eyes. By all rights, not someone you would ever expect to be associated with Team Rocket.

“Agent Dragon, reporting.” The girl saluted.

“Great. How's your sister?”

“Uh... good, I suppose, but what does that have to do with you calling me into your office?”

“I'll level with you. I need to borrow your Garchomp, for some tunelling. I'm going to do some private investigation on the recent terrorist attacks.”

“What is there to investigate? Isn't it just Lindwyrm jackfucks trying to get us back?”

“Might be. But they bear resemblance to an old case file I found, so may as well frolic with the Zebstrika.”

“...What does that even mean?”

“Chasing Zebstrika is an old doctor's term, it means to investigate a rare, or unlikely cause to an ailment, instead of the most common, most likely issue, kinda like insisting a run of the mill Ponyta is a much rarer, more region specific Pokemon. That show about the doctor who was addicted to Vicodin was going to be called that until they decided it wasn't catchy enough.”

“Huh. Well doesn't that kinda not fix the problem, though? I mean what if you don't find anything?”

“Then it's one lead to cross off the list, isn't it?”

“Guess so... what're you gonna give me in return?”

“You can hold onto Felicia for a while.” she extended a hand out, placing a ball similar to the one she released Murderous from into the Agent's palm. In exchange, she was given a black and gold Poke Ball, studded with gems.

“Be sure you give her back, alright? She's special to me.”

“It's a promise. Make sure you put the Executives on alert to keep order while I'm gone. And also, call the other teams and have them put on high alert in case my theory is incorrect.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Azurra popped the pin off of her overcoat and handed it to the Agent. “Keep an eye on this. The cops may still be on edge seeing someone like me around... Cinnabar's always been notorious for having high strung cops. You know they once arrested a kid for even innocently trading with someone he had no idea was one of us? Read that in some files once.”

“Man, that's dicks.”

“Tell me about it.” She petted the Pidgeot, who was eying the Agent with mistrust. “Anyway, we'll be off. Do the things I asked, alright? I'll be in contact if I find anything in particular.”

She hopped up onto the shoulders of the great bird and took off to the south.

~*~*

The city below was bustling, as Azurra could see even now. It had been a small, quiet town before the eruption eighteen years ago. Only the Pokemon Center had remained for a couple years after the Cinnabar Volcano blew its lid. Even a distance away, near the Seafoam Islands, things hadn't been totally unscathed. Maybe a bit unfortunately for Azurra, she would have to find a way into one of the areas known to have been touched.

Murderous touched down before a charred, damaged building. Inside, the remains of damaged machines were clearly noticeable, even from here. Nothing too out of the ordinary, she knew. What was, were the distinct imprints of workboots leading into the building on the dirt path leading up, and the muddy footsteps cutting through the ash at the threshold of the door.

Azurra recalled the Pidgeot and grimaced. “That's odd... who would think to go here? ...What am I saying, it's a boneheaded Trainer.” She shook her head. Rarely, you got a report of an idiot Trainer coming in here looking for rare Pokemon and coming out swearing it was haunted. The upper floors had been investigated to death by police, junior ghost hunters and all sorts. Everyone knew it was the workplace of a geneticist by now.

But only the Team Rocket logs had documented the basements. Sure, most trainers knew of the existence of Mewtwo by now. Once a bitter, twisted soul, years of peace and interactions with kindly Trainers had eased him into life by now, though he still preferred solitude to the life of living with a Trainer. As most Legendaries did, Azurra knew. There were even rumors of other Mewtwo around now, ones much kinder than he. She knew the odds of one being created were slim to none, so he must have gotten busy.

Lucky bastard.

The inside of the old lab was dark, but Azurra didn't seem to mind that. Though, with a trainer around, perhaps she would pull out a flashlight for courtesy's sake. Out of the pocket of her overcoat, she pulled a small keychain flashlight and flicked it on, swinging it around to get a look at her surroundings.

The lab floors were big, that much was noticeable right now. Whatever fire had blazed through here twenty years ago seemed to have burned most of the loose paperwork and un-tiled walls quite thoroughly. Thankfully though, most of the place seemed to be intact. In some of the more inward laboratory rooms, there were glass tubes clearly visible, attached to singed machines. It was astounding, in a way, that most of them had not burst yet, though a few were utterly shattered... and one, notably, was properly emptied, almost as if one experiment had finished.

“This is... so...” Azurra trailed off as she examined the tubes. Inside them, suspended in yellowed fluid, and almost looking sort of pickled, were fleshy forms, unmoving, of various shapes and sizes. Most of them bore patterns that looked almost pixellated, and were almost like loose cell masses... like jelly, in a way. There were charred description cards placed beside each one.

Project Point Four, first attempt at a clone of Mew, died within the first few weeks. Project A, attempt at replicating Mew's Abilities in full, died at one month. Project LM Four, attempt at stabilizing Mew DNA with that of another Pokemon, decommissioned by Giovanni for being too distant to the real thing. Azurra felt almost saddened by all these almost-lives lost... The further along the rows of tubes she went, the more she found decommissioned, and the more she realized that Giovanni had been a bit of a power hungry asshole despite the rest of the organization.

Of course, Azurra had known that already. Since her takeover, she'd held the team to a bit of a higher moral standard. But that was just her. Clearly.

Offhandedly, she wondered what the real Mew had thought of these experiments. Would she abhor them, or would she think it an interesting way to bring lives back into the system? Maybe not these experiments... but if they had been guided by a kinder hand? An attempt to recreate what humans thought extinct, much like fossil ressurection.

Before she had a chance to continue that train of thought, there was a clatter, and a flash of light, causing her to jump and whip a pistol out from her belt.

“Who goes--”

“Woah woah man I ain't here to cause trouble, just let me go-”

Azurra slowly lowered her pistol as she looked over the other person in the lab. Six feet tall, this one stood, with the muscle to match. She was tanned, though still quite white, with silver hair cut short, work clothes with motor oil stains, and an eyepatch affixed where her right eye would be. She'd know that eyepatch anywhere.

“...Cherry?”

“Azurra? What're you doing here?”

“This is Team Rocket property and I'm allowed to conduct investigations if I feel the need. I should be asking you why you're here. Your father said he didn't want either you or Blossom coming near this place.”

“What's he know? I'm an adult. I got a daughter now. I can go huntin' machine parts anywhere I want... maybe he had a point, the dead things are creepin' me out.”

“Amazing they even survived the fires.” Azurra shook her head. “Though, they were probably boiled beyond any chance at life... at least, the ones up here. I was reading a case file on this...” She came to two shattered tanks. “The head scientist was fired after a major escape, and they built basements to keep conducting their experiments in after word got out.” She brushed the ashes off the inscription plates to the two shattered tanks.

“Project Missingno and Project M.” She read the plates aloud, “Attempts to replicate Mew's attack pool and power, at the insistence of Giovanni. May also hold limited transformation and mimic ability. Scheduled to be decommissioned... clearly, that never happened. What wasn't documented though... was this.” She moved over to the last tube in the row, completely empty. “Unnamed project. Attempt to replicate Mew's physical appearance.” She looked it up and down. “I'd assume, this one was completed, somehow, somewhere. Perhaps that's why the lab burnt down again in the first place, twenty years ago.”

Cherry folded her arms and nodded along as Azurra spoke. “Could be. But what's this you say about other basements? Think there could be any parts I can scrap down there?”

“There might be. As the boss, I'd say as a friend, you're allowed to take what you want.”

“Rad.”

“Follow me, then.” Azurra exited the room with the tubes, and led Cherry to a stall in what seemed to be an old bathroom, which had been burned into by the eruption years prior. Even now, they stood atop at least three feet of solid rock. “Pretty sure this was the entrance.”

“...Not anymore.”

“Shh. I came prepared.” Now Azurra took out the Luxury Ball she had been handed, and from it materialized a dark blue, bipedal creature, with rough skin and fins on its arms and back. It glowered down at the pair, and Azurra petted it.

“Easy there Kali. It's me, remember? Your Trainer works for me.”

The Garchomp gave a rough grunt in reply.

“Attagirl. I need you to dig through this rock here until you get to a trap door, and keep digging down until you break through to the next floor. Can you do that?”

With another grunt, the Garchomp pushed them aside, and gave the volcanic rock a solid strike with its fins. Then another, and another. The two accompanying it sat aside and watched as it began to break through and tunnel downward, exchanging glances as they waited.

“So, uh... come here often?” Cherry asked with a sort of goofy grin.

“...No.” Azurra deadpanned.

“Oh, okay... uh... how's your sex life?”

“Don't you have a wife? Why are you trying to pick me up?”

“I don't know, I'm terrible at small talk!”

“Cherry, I'm just going to be straight with you. We're in the middle of an abandoned bathroom, in the middle of a burned down lab, right next door to a bunch of dead things in jars. We're going downstairs to more presumably dead things in jars, because there is no way life support on these things is still on after thirty years. I don't tend to want to think about my sex life around dead things in jars, okay? Okay.”

“...I was only tryin' to make conversation.”

“Make conversation about something other than who's in my pants, please.”

“Alright, uh... she sure is... goin', isn't she?”

“...Quite.”

“Like, just, really goin' at it.”

“Suuuuuuure is.”

“....This got awkward fast, didn't it.”

“Incredibly.”

The rest of the wait was rather silent, with them only exchanging a few glances every once in a while. Thankfully, it wasn't long of a wait before they heard a distinctive affirmative growl. Azurra rose to her feet and motioned for Cherry to follow as she hopped down to what was assuredly the second floor.

Upon touching down, they saw immediately that it was still intact. It was something of an amazing sight to see after the above had been so thoroughly destroyed, although it was dusty from having been uninhabited for presumably the last thirty years, nosy trainers notwithstanding. The machines, the tubing, near everything was perfectly preserved. Some machines' lights still blinked despite the passage of time.

“Woah... goddamn, man, imagine what I could do with some of this equipment.” Cherry looked around the room they were in.

“This is treasure troves of lost Rocket logs and files.” Azurra walked up to an old-looking computer. “The information on these would be invaluable to have restored and cataloged in the main database... I'm amazed there are things down here that are still on. The geothermal generator must not have been affected by even the quakes from the eruption... that's Rocket engineering for you, I suppose. True Rocket engineering, I should add.” She thought back to some log files about a pair of Class B grunts who somehow constantly got their hands on mechs and constantly managed to have them destroyed. She wondered offhandedly what had happened to them.

“So, uh... mind if I poke around?” Cherry didn't wait for an answer before darting off into another room of the lab.

Meanwhile Azurra ignored her, and flicked the switch on the old computer she was seated at. If the machinery was still blinking, maybe this place was still receiving power.

To her surprise, the monitor flickered to life, and a boot-up screen of a seagull-looking Pokemon in white and blue flying through the sky displayed. It sure was a blast from the past to see Wingulls 98 again, she thought to herself. That was good. That meant she might be able to recover some of the data from this place.

The first few files sitting on the desktop, of which there were many, were nothing too special. Equations, hypothesis, more detailed experiment results. Some documents on the project that would become Mewtwo. But as she dove further in, she found some... less scientific logs, clearly written by someone who wasn't much for formality.

“The leftover clone is doing well today. Could swear I heard something talk whenever I went near it, though. They were questions like 'who am I' and 'what am I', philosophical things of the self-discovery kind. It's possible that the clone retains Mew's reported psychic abilities, and is projecting outward toward whoever is able to listen; namely me. The outside DNA sources remain remarkably stable. The clone may just survive the night. We'll see how it's doing in the morning. Need to make Rose stop making goo-goo eyes at it and thank her for breaking us out of jail. Need to make Entei stop hitting on Rose. Make mental note to remind Jeremy to do his daily training if he wants to beat the Elite Four when this is over. Lance won't defeat himself.”

Azurra read over it. So this must have been the guy who finished whatever was housed in the empty tube above. The date was certainly markedly different from the other files she had found. It and the rest of the files in its folder appeared to be akin to diary entries, though there were few.

“The clone is gaining visibly distinct features. I have reason to believe that it may be female in nature. Still hearing psychic calls, stronger now. I was able to hold a shot conversation with it today before it trailed off. Rose continues to gush over it despite being told to be careful around the tube. Jeremy has been depressed lately, appears to blame himself for the escape of Missingno and M to Fuschia.”

Now this was what she was looking for. A root cause to the attack? Yes please.

“Had to explain again that it was my fault for their escape from the lab in the first place. Whether or not they managed to get their hands on his HMs would never change that. They blame me, Team Rocket blames me, and I blame me. Didn't he hear them? When they destroy us all, I'll be first.”

Wait a second, was this the head scientist in the wanted files Giovanni had left over? Well, wasn't this juicy. She had expunged that data for feeling that it couldn't be helped. Indeed, there was his name, signed at the end of the log. Dr. Eric Stone. No relation to Steven Stone. So her initial inkling was right, at least part way. These escaped clones had attacked the Safari Zone those years ago, apparently, and someone did finish that clone upstairs. But as much as it answered questions, it created them all the same. Why had he finished the clone? To combat the escapees? Who were these others, this 'Rose' and 'Jeremy'? Why did they have an Entei?

Why had she never met the finished clone like she had gotten to meet the original Mewtwo?