Logan had no desire to play the hero.
Heroes never end well — their victories are seized by corrupt powers, their bodies left to burn in the light they created, forgotten once the crisis ends.
He was not here to save Vermilion City out of noble justice.
He moved because Lance's ideal fundamentally opposed his own.
For the strong to exist, there must be weak.
For light to shine, darkness must contrast it.
For trainers to hold power and status, humanity's society must continue to exist — to provide structure, resources, and meaning.
If humans vanish, trainers — as humans — lose their root, their purpose.
Power becomes pointless.
"Foolish. Juvenile. A child's dream gone mad."
Logan's expression deepened.
"Give extreme power to someone without true understanding, and he becomes a loaded warhead. A nuclear button in the hands of an idealistic fool leads only to one thing — destruction."
He flicked his wrist and sent out a Poké Ball.
A brilliant flash — and his Dragonair materialized, scales gleaming beneath stormlight.
"Green, your body still isn't fully healed. Be careful not to get caught in the fight."
His eyes shifted to Yellow and Cynthia.
"Honestly, I'd prefer you three stay back and watch, safe from the battlefield… but I already know you'd reject that."
Just as he expected — three heads shook in unison.
Fear did not stop them — and the rising waves of Vermilion behind them fueled their resolve even more.
Girls felt compassion deeper than men — and even from kilometers away, the collapsing skyline, tidal walls, and screaming sirens were enough to make their hearts tremble.
Logan laughed softly.
"…Very well. I've always respected girls' decisions."
Then his gaze sharpened like drawn steel.
"Dragonair — Hyper Beam."
Even separated from Lance by kilometers, Logan needed only a silhouette in the distance.
His Dragonair's horn lit up, energy condensing into a blinding beam that lanced across the sea. It wasn't full power — far weaker than Lance's earlier blast.
He never expected it to hit.
The purpose was announcement.
A message: I'm here. Stop attacking my city.
As predicted — Lance's Pokémon countered mid-air. Two Hyper Beams collided, bursting like thunder over the waves.
Only then did Lance finally turn, noticing the challenger at the distant shore.
Two Dragonair sliced through wind and ocean spray, lightning dancing around them as they approached. Lance sensed a strong trainer blocking his path — so he would eliminate them first.
But as he drew close enough to see their faces — and saw another trainer standing atop a Dragonair just like him — Lance's lips curled into a manic grin.
"Haha! What fate — my dear brother. I return to Kanto, and look who greets me!"
His voice shook with madness and joy, scarlet cloak whipping wildly behind him as thunder raged above.
"You see it, don't you? Humans are parasites."
"They cannot understand Pokémon, nor their hearts."
"They destroy the earth, poison the sky, corrupt the oceans."
"Ninety-nine percent of them waste resources — a cancer on this world!"
His eyes blazed with zeal.
"Behold Vermilion. This is the power of dragons — the punishment humans deserve."
He stretched out a hand toward Logan.
"Join me. You who share dragon blood — you were chosen too."
Lightning illuminated the ruined coastline behind them.
Smoke rose like funeral incense.
"Stand beside me. Let us purge this rotting world. Come with me to Cerise Island. I will show you the culmination of years of preparation — my dear brother."
Wind howled past them, salt spray whipping across the air.
The word echoed in Logan's mind.
Cerise Island.
The home base of the Four Elite. Their nest.
Not yet located…
But now — a name. A direction.
A clue narrowing countless possibilities down to island territories.
Logan lifted his eyes silently.
No answer.
Lance's smile slowly faded.
"…What's wrong? Fear?"
He leaned forward, voice disturbingly gentle.
"Don't worry. Your friends are unharmed. After the human purge, they — as trainers — will live in the new world."
He glanced at Cynthia, Green, Yellow — then at the Dragonair Yellow had healed — expression softening in twisted warmth.
"…I'm glad you saved it. Humans would have hurt it — but you cared. That proves my ideal is righteous. Only true trainers should exist."
His certainty was terrifying.
For a while, Logan remained silent.
Then spoke.
"Lance, do you know what happens if you 'cleanse' humanity?"
Lance answered instantly — without thought, without doubt.
"The world will flourish. No pollution. No waste. Clear skies, pure seas, fertile earth. Pokémon and worthy trainers living together in paradise."
He said it like a dream.
Like heaven.
Logan exhaled slowly.
"…No. You will create a graveyard."
He stared straight into Lance's eyes.
"If humans vanish, Pokémon vanish. We are symbiotic. Partners by fate, not coincidence."
He raised a hand, a finger pointing.
"If ancient Legendaries could wipe out humans entirely, why didn't they?"
The answer came cold and absolute.
"Because they know — eliminating humans would eliminate themselves."
Logan continued, voice deep with reason.
"Read Professor Oak's book — The Relationship of Humans and Pokémon. Theory and experimental models both prove it: humans and Pokémon share life energy. Bodies and souls intertwined."
"Our coexistence is the foundation of this world."
Lance blinked — not angry, but amused.
"…So you refuse me."
His tone chilled like ice.
"You pity the dead?"
"No."
Logan stared back, unwavering.
"Sacrifice is a cost of revolution. If killing a portion saved the world, I wouldn't hesitate."
"But you aren't saving the world — you're destroying it."
His voice hardened to steel.
"My ideal is to save the world — because saving it saves me."
"And your ideal obstructs mine."
"So I will stop you."
Logan's fingers tightened around another Poké Ball beneath his cloak.
He did not intend to die for justice.
He would save the world to preserve his path — his escape — his existence.
If this world collapsed, so would the only bridge to the home he'd lost.
So he must grow stronger — no matter how ruthless the methods required.
And Lance was the obstacle on that road.
"So this is a clash of ideals."
Unexpectedly, Lance did not rage.
He laughed — delighted.
"Then I'll crush your ideal — and lead you to the correct one."
Lightning flashed overhead.
"Let me show you the manifestation of True Ideal."
He thrust his arm toward the thunderclouds.
"Behold — The Dragon of Ideals!"
CRACK—!!!
Crossing bolts illuminated the sky — and the clouds split.
From within the black storm descended a dragon shrouded in shadow.
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