Crimson Fang was thriving.
Well, "thriving" by their standards — a handful of dungeon heists, a stolen cargo crate of Pokéballs, and a few desperate White- or Green-Talent trainers willing to do anything for strength.
Thorne stood at the head of another dimly lit meeting. His voice was confident now.
"We've got traction. The League's not looking down here. The next step is—"
BANG.
The metal warehouse doors blasted open.
Two figures entered. Silhouetted against the rain, they wore sleek, black uniforms — the red 'R' unmistakable even in the flickering light.
The room went silent.
Thorne frowned. "Who the hell are—"
"We're your new employers," said a cold woman's voice. She stepped forward, her long black hair tied back, her eyes sharp like knives. Her name was Agent Serena, a high-ranking operative in Team Rocket's "Absorption Division."
Behind her, a tall man in a white lab coat stood silently, a metal briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. His eyes flicked from face to face like he was scanning for useful assets.
A massive Rhyperior lumbered in behind them. Its rocky body radiated heat — this wasn't some Green-tier Pokémon. This was a confirmed Blue-Talent, and everyone in the room could feel it.
The Grimer in the back whimpered and slunk behind its trainer.
⸻
Team Rocket's Proposition
Serena spoke, her tone final and unimpressed.
"Crimson Fang. Small fish. No coordination. But you've got something we want — boots, reach, desperation. We can use that."
Thorne stepped forward, scowling. "We're not joining Rocket. We're our own—"
Before he could finish, the man in the lab coat opened his case.
Inside were three glowing Talent Crystals, each flickering like fire.
Green-tier fusion crystals.
Even Thorne shut up.
Serena smiled. "You think you're building power? You're building noise. We build armies. Join us, and we'll give your best men actual power. Access to test labs, dungeon paths, real tech."
A hand rose in the back.
"What happens if we say no?"
Serena's smile didn't change. "Then we test how many corpses it takes to make an example."
No one said no.
⸻
The Absorption Begins
By the end of the night, every Crimson Fang member had either pledged themselves to Rocket's shadow network or disappeared.
Those with Yellow-level Talents were tagged for lab reassignment. "Too useful for the streets," the scientist said.
Those with only White were given disposable roles — bait, transport, distractions.
Thorne wasn't even in charge anymore.
He was given a new uniform. No rank.
Rocket didn't care about pride.
Only results.
⸻
Back in Pallet… A Whisper of Trouble
Professor Oak frowned as he looked over a set of unusual dungeon activity reports from Vermilion.
"These shifts don't make sense… unless someone's feeding Pokémon illegal stimulants inside."
He tapped the screen, then opened a new file marked "Unregistered Syndicates Absorbed – Confirmed by Rocket Activity."
He sighed. "They're consolidating again."