South of Mine Island
On top of the tallest cliff overlooking the entire area
The air was thick with distortion.
Black, oily ripples spread like waves in black water, tainting the air surrounding the summit of the mountain.
At the center of it all drifted a hooded, nightmare-borne entity.
Darkrai.
The Pitch-Black Pokémon, cursed for casting eternal dreams and distorted illusions, convulsed in torment.
"SSSKHAAAAAAAA!!!"
Darkrai shrieked out something hellish, unlike anything found in nature.
A piercing, echoing scream that pierced the darkness like a blade of ice.
It's usually tranquil. Cian-blue eyes had gone blood red, blazing as if drenched in fury.
Black mist billowed about its body like wisps of smoke, and its aura seethed with seething malice.
This was not Darkrai; it was supposed to be.
It was being twisted.
Manipulated
About 300 meters below, concealed between deserted observation platforms and rocky mining scaffolds, a group of hooded figures observed Darkrai with binoculars.
They were in red and black cloaks, adorned with insignia that were both familiar.
Two main members among them stood out.
One of them: Sirda chilly, poised woman with violet locks and piercing, analytical phoenix eyes.
A senior member of Team Rocket, one of Giovanni's top agents.
The other: a slouching, spectacled man in a frayed lab coat, with a data pad clutched in one hand, Charon, lead scientist and executive of Team Galactic.
Sirda dropped her binoculars and smiled.
"Charon," she said dryly, "I think you've now seen Team Rocket's potential for yourself."
She pointed at a peculiar mechanical transmitter next to them, broadcasting slight, undetectable ultrasonic waves into the air above.
"Even Darkrai, one of the most dreaded mythical Pokémon in the world, is powerless against our Sonic Aggression Pulse."
"This is what Rocket research can do. Imagine what we could accomplish. together."
Charon's face was hard to discern. But his eyes sparkled.
He slowly lowered his device and spoke with awe,
"I have to say… as far as genetic engineering and neural control go, your Rocket is way ahead by decades."
"The Alliance has no counter to this."
Sirda smiled once more like a viper with fangs extended.
"Then why delay?"
"Meet Cyrus. Let's formalize this partnership. Your objectives, our resources… a harmonious combination."
Charon paused.
He recognized what this was.
Team Rocket used the term "mutual benefit," but Giovanni's aspirations were not modest.
He did not desire a partnership; he desired land.
"You intend to use us as an opening to gain entry into the Sinnoh Region," Charon stated bluntly, in a low voice.
Sirda did not react.
"We seek to remake a decaying world."
"You desire the power of the gods Dialga and Palkia to forge a new world."
"We desire to dominate that world, before it's consumed by chaos."
"Your organization has the philosophy. Ours has the means."
There was a silence.
Then Sirda moved closer, voice falling to a whisper.
"You know as well as I do, Charon. Cyrus is a genius, but he lacks the necessary tools. And Team Galactic is stagnant."
"But with our technology, Dream Drives, Energy Loops, Sonic Disruptors, you won't just find Dialga and Palkia."
"You'll own them."
The words cut deep.
Charon shifted to look up toward the mountaintop, where Darkrai still convulsed under the effect of the Sonic Pulse, its nightmares distorting the air.
"I will report to Cyrus."
At the peak, Darkrai's body burst with additional black mist.
Its eyes were afire with agony.
And its dreams started to seep outward, down toward Mine Island below.
That evening, not a single soul on the island slept well.
Even under thick hotel walls and defensive charms, all dreams twisted into terror.
Except one.
One Trainer stirred in his room.
His eyes flashed open.
And the nightmare had at last begun.
Charon scrunched up his cloudy eyes, deliberated long and hard, and nodded at last.
"I see."
"I'll set up a meeting with Cyrus at the earliest."
"When the time arrives, we'll set down the terms of collaboration."
Sirda's ruby-lipped mouth curved upwards, her smile poisonous and beguiling.
"Very prudent, Charon."
"Together, we'll create a new world… or destroy this one."
Just then, up above on Mine Island's cliffs, the berserk Darkrai let out another shriek.
"SSSHHHHRYAAAA!!!"
The piercing shriek was not merely an auditory phenomenon. It was a wave.
A horror-fueled beat that darkened the very air around it.
The ripples that had distorted the sky before now congealed, shattering the cliffside like glass.
Boulders broke apart.
Dust assailed outward in furious rings.
The space around it twisted under the impact of random energy.
Charon automatically put up his arm to protect himself against the gust of wind.
"Sirda! What's going on?! It wasn't meant to get this unstable!"
But Sirda, ever composed, moved forward.
The wind pulled at her coat, but her eyes shone.
"This is perfectly normal," she replied with a smirk.
"The closer Darkrai gets to full insanity, the easier it is to control."
Behind her, one of the Rocket operatives rushed forward, carrying a secured black case.
Sirda turned, opened the case with a six-digit passcode, and slowly withdrew a pitch-black Poké Ball.
It shimmered faintly under the night sky, veins of red etched into its glossy surface.
"This," she held it up for Charon to see, "is the new-generation Dusk Ball."
"A Team Rocket exclusive."
"Once Darkrai is driven sufficiently mad… this ball will extinguish its consciousness completely."
"No will. No resistance. Just a weapon."
Charon's eyes went wide.
"You're telling me. This can erase the mind of even a Legendary Pokémon?"
Sirda nodded slowly, her grin broadening.
"Exactly. It becomes ours. No dreams, no rebellion. Just raw power."
Charon swallowed hard.
Cyrus will like this.
-----------------
But at the very same moment, back in the star-rated hotel…
Sam stood fresh from the shower, towel draped across his neck, hair still wet.
He was about to get into bed when
Boom…!
His eyes flew open. A jolt of power surged through his Aura.
The windowpanes shuddered a little, and far away, he felt it:
A throb of intense, warped hatred
Like a psychic shriek screaming across space.
It tickled against his skin, burrowing in his brain like a thousand claws.