The cell door screeched open on iron hinges. The time is impossible to say, with the submarine submerged in Petalburg's docks on the adjacent route. The man who stepped in was masked and armored, but the Rocket insignia on his breast made it remarkably clear where his affiliations lie.

When his eye fell upon the prisoner, Howard quickly recognized that the woman within was a shadow of what she had once been. Rangers held poorly in captivity. Most did. There was a reason the admin never came to this section of the submarine. Rocket atrocities were not his forte, and he did his best to avert his gaze from them.

"Shalin Nariya." The last time he had seen her had been... months ago. Almost a year, if he had to guess. Petalburg Woods was a distant memory, even if it was but a few miles away. "You're remarkably insistent."

Admin Fox crossed his arms and leaned against the cell wall. Outside, a few grunts stood guard.

"You've asked for me several times." Admin Fox's cape risked dragging against the ground. "I'd be rude to deny you any longer."

Cillian had made note of it, and thus the admin had made note of it.

---

Shalin Nariya

It is declan walsh who should be blamed for many atrocities. Yet Walsh is part of Rocket, and thus his crimes are shouldered by the admin as well. Howard said he would during their great meeting—their grand banquet to decide the fate of Team Rocket and Howard's own.

"And maybe you're right to do so. Yet they were still our people. I'll hate you for killing them because they looked to us for protection and to prove us fallible, you killed them. I expect the same from you." He echoes of a conversation between june sleigh and annalise henderson , unbeknownst to him. "But I'll abstain for today, in honor of your professor's words."

For a moment, he wonders if Rayquaza was wasted on freya morningstar . The beast is her sledgehammer where it had been Eva's scalpel. Yet as he stands near Roy Aker to scrounge for Shelgon rolls, he finds none.

"Xsio." He lets out a low curse, more to himself than anyone around him. Rather than looking like a fool, he salvages a few berry slices cut into the shapes of Trapinch heads. One disappears into the umbral folds of his mask.

Briefly, he wonders if it's poisoned. The query is quickly abandoned. Any poison is secondary to the Dynergy that muddies the blood and turns it into sludge.

Instead, after searching through the crowd, he finds her. One of the few people here that the admin has actually waged a battle with at some point in the pass. It doesn't take many steps for him to reach her, and it's wise that he does so now, while the flag of peace flies above them.

"You," he looks at annalise henderson , "fought well in the Ultra Plant."

---

Alina was an unbeliever. Frankly, Howard didn't blame her. It was a ridiculous solution, born from a stark refusal to invest money into professional attire. In a region that prided itself on some of the strongest trainers in the world, Howard preferred practicality to effectiveness on the battlefield. All of his Pokémon followed that modus operandi.

Except for Shirley, who was his heart and soul. Her, and two Pokémon at his belt that were more comparable to walking disasters than living beings. Yet even those two cudgels had a purpose.

"Sure. I'll wait here." He nodded once at her, before giving a cheery wave. "Have fun!"

He took a deep breath, relieved that she wasn't forcing him to shell out any money. After giving Nova a look, Howard turned to Shirley, and the two had a silent conversation over the span of three seconds. Quick as a whip, the archaeologist threw off his suit and tossed it to the Aerodactyl, who quickly flew to the ship to find the admin proper attire.

It would be really funny if he was already ready before Alina emerged.

Several seconds later, she flew back with a small bag from the cabin. Howard looked around to confirm that nobody was around before swapping his suit for a pair of loose shorts and an Alolan shirt complete with Lileeps instead of flowers.

"Huh." Howard checked his broken watch for the time, before looking up, pleased with himself. "That was pretty fast!"

Whenever Alina would emerge, Howard would be in an intense conversation with a Dewpider, his back to the Johtoian whenever she emerged. His hands were splayed out slightly, describing the dimensions of the air bubble to the small insect. The spider nodded as Howard continued to speak.

"...and the air has to filter out as we breath, so we don't suffocate. You got it?"

---

Alina Hamako

She gets embarrassed. He gets embarrassed. Yet there's an iota of pride in his soul, knowing that his doctor is human enough to display an ounce of emotion. There was a moment where the admin wondered if Naia was simply an emotionless cog in the great mechanism that was Team Rocket.

Naia. Doctor. The two were interchangeable terms. Howard Slayte. Rocket Admin. Jayden Cross. Rocket Admin. Ofttimes, the title was more important than the person it was attached to. A depressing prospect, but a realistic one.

Whatever Team Rocket had once been, it had left behind in Kanto.

"Diligent is just another word for obligation. If it's not done, nobody will do it. It'll sit there until the years rust it away." He felt a wave of noxious dizziness that made him want to hurl. It passed quickly enough, and the admin's eye flicked from Naia to the bag. Full. When she patted his head, the admin continued to look away. "You're mocking me."

He didn't pull away, though, lest another wave of dizziness cause him to collapse on the floor. Yet the primordial part of his brain told him that relying on another was a dangerous thing. This vulnerability frightened him. Instead, he focused on something that was a lot easier to understand: work.

He let out a laugh as Naia called herself untalented.

"I somehow doubt you lack skill. I've been downplaying myself since I joined Rocket to avoid getting the hard jobs. Look how well it worked for me." A promotion to admin and a thousand sleepless nights pouring over ledgers and logistics. "So come to Petalburg. We could use your help with the wounded there. You will not want for supplies, I assure you."

Kanto would foot the bill for that particular venture.

"From my experience, it's all about being pushed to your utmost limit. Only when you're there do you truly improve. Test yourself in the crucible and see where you fall." He looked up at her, curious. "I'm interested to see how far you will go."

---

Naia Kayode

There were no arguments. No complaints. Nothing. It was just a day on the job. The two had no love for each other, but the archaeologist didn't point that out, lest the gangster leave him with a new set of bruises.

"When building something like this, ventilation is important. Otherwise, you're liable to cave-ins that suck the oxygen from the air or gas leaks that'll kill your laborers." Howard said as they picked their way to the place Howard noted. "The dirt here is loose, with a thin layer of dust and clay when you dig a few feet down. It's bad for tunneling."

Montgomery's Skarmory would find nothing more than a few dozing Pidoves. Shirley yapped at them, and they flew away.

"Which means the vents were small. Fortunately, they're also pretty obvious. If you know where to look..." Howard took a knee and brushed a large swath of dirt away with a hand spade. "...ah. There we go."

A shaft small enough for the duo to squeeze through, if they crawled and went one at a time.

"After you."

---

Montgomery James

Physically, June wouldn't die. Yet the admin suspected that she was emotionally wounded, much like everyone else in this ouroboros of an organization. They devoured their own tales to fill the emptiness that resided in their soul, and Howard suspected that nobody in Team Rocket would ever find the fulfillment in such an infinite cycle.

"You don't need to explain. Lives are fragile, and it's easy for them to be crushed underfoot." Slowly but surely, the Rocket Admin rose to his feet. Ice cracked as joints moved, spraying shards of splintered ice as the admin leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. "You would've hated Petalburg just as much. It doesn't matter where you are in this region, June."

He limped towards his helmet. Why had he thrown it? What had frustrated him so much that he had tossed it aside like worthless garbage?

"The only people who lose are the nameless masses when our two sides play their game of gods." As he leaned down to get his helmet, he almost collapsed. Pain shot up his leg. "It's why I'm heading back out there. Can't let my people die."

His breath frosted as he looked at his distorted reflection in the helmet, only to realize that he didn't recognize the person staring back at him.

"Stay here until you recover, then return to Petalburg. I have a retreat to cover. You'll still be paid." Howard took a deep breath as he looked at her. "Same as always."

---

june sleigh

The grave was open. The path was clear. The stink of rose petals was still in the air, and freshly turned earth caused the admin's boots to sink slightly into the ground. Yet this grave had been open for a few days, at least. To call it freshly turned would be a lie. Yet lies and truth blurred together, now.

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK." Howard's hand turned covered his mouth as he repressed the urge to vomit. Yet there was a certain poetic justice to spewing bile over Elisabeth's grave. Yet still, he resisted. "She got me. She fucking got me. What do I do now?"

She had come back from the dead. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. When Elisabeth Fiorelli's back was to the wall, she was at her best. It was a realization that terrified him, because it was similar to Howard worked. He had struggled in Petalburg until Regirock had pushed his back to the wall.

In spite of everyone getting in his way, Howard had succeeded. In spite of burying her under stone, Elisabeth had succeeded. History often rhymed, and yet that didn't mean Howard had to appreciate it when his chapter stepped in sync with the underboss's.

He took a deep breath as he looked up at the tomb. Something foul was in the air, and the stink of roses seemed to grow in intensity.

"I know you're there." He didn't turn around. Not until he could compose himself. "Elisabeth."

---

Elisabeth Fiorelli

He teleports onto a nearby beach, his hat tucked under his arm. The ocean breeze feels good on his face and in his soul. For the first time since Petalburg, Howard Slayte's mind is clear.

"Three left, Little Lady. I only need three more." He felt Regirock and Regice's Pokeballs at his belt, and felt the weight of two geological eras crushing him down into the sand and surf that licked at his feet. "And when I have them, mankind wins. No more Eternatus. No more enemy. No more Howard Slayte."

It's a desperate prayer marred by the prospect of the Craftsman. Eris Halla despised him, now, and that was another step forward. When he was dead, that would be one less person to mourn him.

That was fine. There was no heartbeat anymore. When Navy or Eddie cut it out, they'd find nothing but ice and stone. Someone would do him in. His list of enemies was getting awfully long, now.

"It must be lonely, though. Partnered with a god of emotion that can't understand the heart of a child. Sorry, Eris."

In the distance, something sprinted over the water, sending a gust of wind. Before the admin could deduce what it was, it had disappeared over the horizon. That was secondary to this view, though. Everyone in the world shared this sea, as perfectly clear as it was.

"There's no room in this world for a kid as cruelly innocent as you."

---

Eris Halla

When Melody Miro spoke, the admin instinctively stiffened for a moment.

Damn. She had him. Rather than show weakness, he simply shrugged as Eva walked off to destroy a banquet table full of cheese snacks. He wondered if the doctor and Uxie shared a common ancestor at some point. A question for Eris Halla and Hideo Kino , most likely. Instead, he simply mused on her claim.

She was not wrong. Any human being was capable of incredible things, yet Peacemaker spoke to the Mercurial in front of the Ascendant and the Harmonious and the holders of a half-dozen Legendary Pokémon. It was a tragic day when the powerless became as scarce as the powerful in deciding the fate of the world.

Perhaps that was why he commended Eva Morales and ollie morales for showing up. Family without divinity, gods be damned. And as for Howard, he wasn't nearly done with his seizures. There was more for him to do.

"Sootopolis's former Gym Leader gives a performance in her city, yet refers to this banquet as Freya's." His voice is low enough that only mint frost can hear his words. Frustration bleeds into the bemusement in his voice. "Melody has always preferred playing second fiddle. First to Kyle as Elite Four, and now to Freya as Top Champion. If she follows Talia and Kyle into the grave, her tombstone's header should be a doormat rather than a microphone."

He'd talk to Bee about selling Melody Miro doormats at another date. Melody was a tool. Unfortunately, a sharpened sword was a threat, even if it was wielded by another. Whether Melody was swung by Kyle or Freya or Navy or Matias, she was a strong trainer.

It made her a great risk. She had not dishonored herself at Sootopolis.

"Telling us that the party is almost over... heh." Howard clapped Neon on the shoulder. "It ended long before we got here. I think I'll go and see if there's a few of those rolls baked in the shape of Shelgons."

Assuming freya morningstar and Roy Aker hadn't demolished them all, yet.

"Want one?"

---

I LOVE SHELGON ROLLS POGGERS

A reasonable one, most likely. In a region full of fiends, those touched by divinity, and those who've slowly lost their way after years of war, it's a fairly reasonable guess to assume that any stranger in any town is likely broken in some way. Yet that perspective is a lonely one.

A little faith in humanity can go a long way.

"I rented one out in Slateport. Don't tell my boss, though. I used the company card." Mostly because his own card was maxed out and his personal bank account was currently in the triple digits, counting decimals. "It's not some yacht or anything, but it makes the trip easy enough, and I'm no sailor."

As Howard spoke, he leaned off of his post and gestured for the lighthouse keeper to follow him across bridges of floating logs towards the docks. Shirley, meanwhile, floated on an updraft as she attempted to snap as Wingulls. Each time she missed, she let out a yap of frustration.

Howard's lips twitched upward. Meanwhile, a small ship bobbed at the end of the dock's pier, painted remarkably well, save for the Mantine ornament placed squarely on the top of the ship's cabin. It looked ridiculous, but it gave the boat a bit of charm.

"Ah, right. Attire." Alina raised a good point, and the archaeologist snapped his fingers. "It's not super deep, so I was just going to use a Dewspider bubble as a helmet. It's ridiculous, I know, but it actually works."

It was a trick that one of Rocket's Head Scientists had taught him, and he remembered looking at Lulu as if she had discovered fire for the first time. It even worked in space, somehow? Science was hard.

"If you don't have any clothes you don't mind getting wet, I can rent out a scuba suit for you. My company card hasn't been cancelled yet."

Worst case, Gideon would yell at him and Howard would have to catch him a Vivillon or something. The museum curator was not a hard man to appease.

---

Alina Hamako

That reaction was apt. Every time he thought about it, the admin wanted to throw himself off a cliff. Fiancée. Fiancée. Fiancée.

"She focused on architecture. Smartest woman I've ever met, actually. She needed inspiration for a building project, and I needed a third person to keep watch at night to make sure we weren't attacked by Cacturnes. I was gonna propose to her when we graduated to make it a special moment, but she found the ring."

Only then did he actually laugh. The sound of someone who had genuinely enjoyed a moment and ruminating on it, but knew that it would never be replicated again. The moment had passed, and it had been saved in the mausoleum of Howard's memory.

"But she was never just here. I'd never describe her as 'just'. She helped make it to the end, actually. Found a hidden lever behind one of these bricks..." He nodded at the large door at the end of the chamber. He started poking around the wall. "Hey!"

He looked at her, suddenly interested.

"What about you? You have a secret engagement?"

---

june sleigh ameena abadi

There was no love for needles in Howard's heart. Thus, he was perfectly willing to look away and simply observe anything other than the needle burrowing into flesh. He looked at the windows, at the bags attached to him, and even at Naia herself, but the needle didn't even enter his peripheral vision.

A silent prayer of gratitude for his missing eye was sent out. It made ignoring discomforts an easy thing, even if looking away was a show of weakness. Howard supposed that was a boon. Compared to his colleagues, he was the weakest Rocket Admin in a position where the slightest scent of blood hinted at weakness.

Yet Naia was not an admin. She was a doctor. His doctor, for the moment. There was no threat from her. He'd dance to her whims for a while.

"I don't have a team working on it, no. It's a passing interest from my colleagues, but weakness is a curse. They do not know much." Jayden likely did, but wherever the blood that the Cursed had drained had disappeared. Howard had no idea what his comrade had done with it. "You can take a sample. Do what you will."

There was nothing stopping Naia from doing so. If she wanted it, all she had to do was reach out and take it. Knowledge was free, as long as the person who desired it had the gall to reach for it.

He gave her a thin smile, his eye flickering with bemusement as bags filled with a liquid too bright and rich to be normal blood. The poison of gods.

Yet her offer is ultimately what causes his eye to widen. For a long moment, there was no sound, save for the beeping of monitors and the thrum of technology and the drip drip drip of bags of liquid. For a moment, it looked as if the archaeologist was going to decline.

"Ha." His involuntary chuckle eventually evolved into a genuine fit of laughter. "Ahahahahahaha! That's such a ridiculous ask. You're treating someone with an unknown illness, and your kneejerk reaction is to offer them a lap pillow? Like in the soaps?"

He laughed again, body trembling weakly as he did so. Yet when Howard looked up, his eye shined with amusement as his smile reached it for the first time.

"Sure. Why not?" He shrugged, still chuckling as Naia shifted into position. He didn't know what this woman wanted. He didn't understand it. Still, he had the decency to look away, embarrassed. "You're a strange woman, doctor."

Which was how he found himself with his head in her lap. The sensation was soft and warm, and that alone warranted five stars. Yet the admin would've killed himself rather than admit that aloud. As fingers brushed his hair away, they found a silvery-white streak that reflected the light like crystal.

Proof that, despite his contempt for the anomalies that rotted this world, Howard Slayte was one.

"When I'm done here?" Naia's question gave him pause. "Back to work, most likely. Petalburg is still a wreck, and the people there deserve to have their homes back. That, and I suppose I'll have to rate you five stars, right?"

Despite the joke, the admin's heart remained with the people of Petalburg. It wasn't their fault that they had been conquered, after all. The League had simply failed them. Yet her curiosity piqued his own.

"What'll you do after kicking me out? Any patients?"

---

Naia Kayode