"Bruno, the reason you're not telling me the Elite Four's intel isn't because you won't say it… it's because you can't, right?"
Logan's voice dropped into a deep, razor-sharp tone.
Beside him, Cynthia looked stunned—she wasn't sure what Logan was implying.
Bruno's lips curled into a strained grin, breath heavy:
"Hahaha… I knew you'd figure it out, Logan. You're right.
It isn't that I don't want to tell you—
I physically cannot do it!"
He yanked Steelix backward. At that exact moment, the earth beneath him split apart—
and another giant form burst from underground: a second Steelix.
The two behemoths coiled around each other like twin steel dragons, briefly escaping the encirclement of Logan's and Cynthia's Pokémon.
Logan raised a hand, signaling Cynthia and Yellow to halt their assault.
He fixed his gaze on Bruno and said quietly:
"Then tell me whatever you can.
And if you wish to refuse… I won't force you."
Bruno frowned, gripping his nunchaku tightly. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke—voice strained with agony:
"…I can't reveal where the Elite Four are hiding.
That location is critical—too important to risk exposure right now."
His expression twisted further, veins pulsing beneath his skin as though invisible chains were tightening around his mind. He forced each word out like bleeding through clenched teeth:
"But… I can tell you… that Lance will soon appear in Vermilion City.
If you want answers—go there and find him."
His breath hitched—
"Be careful… Lance seems to have found something terrifying.
He's moving up the schedule… the plan is going to start early!"
The moment he finished, Bruno collapsed to one knee atop Steelix's head. Sweat poured from him in overflowing streams.
It was as though simply speaking those few sentences had nearly killed him.
"Heheheheheh… you talk too much, Bruno."
A chilling, owl-like voice slithered through the entire forest.
It echoed from every direction at once, a warped vibration scraping across the inside of everyone's skull like fingernails dragging over a blackboard.
Cynthia and Yellow clutched their ears and winced.
"Ultrasonic waves… likely a Golbat or a Crobat!" Cynthia hissed.
Suddenly—
A streak of purple venom shot from the trees above Logan—
Arbok.
Quicker than lightning, fangs dripping venom, aimed directly at his exposed neck.
"Watch out!" Cynthia shouted.
Yellow gasped in terror—this strike was too fast. No one could possibly react in time—
CRACK!!
Arbok slammed into an invisible barrier—its fangs nearly shattered.
Logan smirked and snapped his head toward it:
"You think I didn't notice you?
Espeon—Psychic!"
Espeon's eyes flared a burning violet—
A telekinetic blast launched Arbok like a cannonball, crashing it deep into a rock outcropping.
"Don't give it a chance—Dark Pulse!" Cynthia commanded.
Her Spiritomb fired a wave of dark energy that detonated the embedded rock. Arbok disappeared beneath an avalanche of shattered stone.
"Impressive reflexes, Kanto Champion…"
The eerie voice returned—closer now.
"No wonder you weren't taken by surprise.
Espeon's precognition… quite the nuisance to stealth."
"Grenn… do you recognize that voice?" Logan murmured.
Green, now awake but still weak in his arms, swallowed medication from her pocket and whispered:
"…It's her. The Elite Four's… Agatha."
Logan's jaw tightened. Mist crept unnaturally through the forest—cold, ghostly, swallowing light as though the sun itself recoiled from her presence.
"So the markings on Bruno's wrists and ankles…
were your doing, Agatha?"
His eyes narrowed.
"I saw similar sigils on the walls of your old house in Lavender Town.
You're controlling him with those sigils… aren't you?"
The fog thickened like a closing throat—then a silhouette materialized—
Agatha.
Small and hunched.
A cane grasped in her skeletal hand.
Plain clothing—not the monster one would imagine…
But her eyes—cold, ancient, and terrifyingly aware.
Compared to Lance's arrogance—
Agatha's quiet malice was far deadlier.
"Yes," she said calmly, as if discussing afternoon tea.
"I don't care about Lance and Lorelei's ambitions.
But their goals align with mine… so I help them."
She tapped her cane lightly against the Steelix below.
"But Bruno never agreed.
Our paths differed—so I had no choice but to… correct him."
Logan's gaze sharpened.
"What are those markings?"
He doubted she'd answer—but Agatha seemed almost delighted to explain.
"You know Sneasel, yes?" she began.
"A Pokémon with a clan-based social instinct.
Some live alone—but they always leave markings.
A single Sneasel's mark can command the obedience of an entire group."
"If a gifted Trainer and Sneasel are perfectly attuned—
that Trainer can… command the entire species."
Logan's eyes widened slightly.
Agatha smiled—cold and intellectual.
"I studied that instinct from my youth.
I dreamed of giving that power to other Pokémon.
Control one—control their entire kind."
She continued, tone disturbingly proud:
"The sigils?
Found in an ancient ruin.
A failed attempt by an old civilization—seeking to use Ghost-types to fully control humans."
"But… as you see—I perfected the concept."
Logan finished the thought aloud, voice low:
"You combined your Sneasel research with that ancient method.
By controlling Bruno…
you indirectly command his Pokémon—
a chain of authority."
Agatha clapped politely, eyes gleaming.
"Correct.
Though… it is still incomplete.
I cannot truly own Bruno's will.
I can merely stop him from disobeying."
She motioned toward him with her cane.
"He battles you… because his heart yearns for strong opponents.
That is not my command.
His spirit… is far too stubborn to break entirely."
Logan exhaled—a thin smile forming.
"Agatha… this technique of yours…"
His eyes darkened with a dangerous glint:
"…is extraordinary."
A hunger flickered behind his calm demeanor.
Knowledge. Power. Control.
He wanted it.
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