As night fell, thick clouds blanketed the sky, hiding the gentle moonlight. The stars that once sparkled so brightly were now missing from the sky, yet Pallet Town's air remained as fresh and inviting as ever, making it impossible not to be drawn in by its natural serenity. But tonight, at the headquarters of the world-renowned Oak Research Lab, an experienced thief made her quiet entrance.
She wore a tightly wrapped coat concealing her form, special boots that left no sound with each step, and custom-made leather gloves to prevent any fingerprints. Originally, she planned to use her Ditto for a full disguise, but to her surprise, the security measures at this globally famous research lab were laughably lax. She had gotten in far too easily.
In truth, apart from places like the Silph Co., where classified tech secrets are involved, most Pokémon research facilities have minimal security. Their high-level research, while sophisticated, usually can't be immediately monetized, so thieves rarely find value in breaking in.
As for stealing Pokémon—sure, some criminals tried. But unless you're a Hunter dealing in Pokémon trafficking, swiping one wouldn't get you far. Without the skill to command them, most stolen Pokémon are useless. Real Trainers catch their own. But tonight, someone had broken that norm.
"Child's play! Surveillance? Taken care of. I was even ready to use Horsea's ink spray to block the cameras if needed… turns out that was overkill," she muttered smugly.
Crouched in a corner, the thief folded her mini computer and smiled with satisfaction. All those years studying electronics had paid off. Sure, the current application was... questionable, but still—skills were skills.
Not that she wanted this life. She had lost everything young, forced to survive in unfamiliar streets. No ID, no record, nothing. Legitimate jobs weren't an option. She knew stealing was wrong. Lying wasn't noble. But survival trumped morals when your stomach ached with hunger.
True, with her talents, she could've done far worse. But her conscience set a limit—she'd never cause harm. Just enough to get by.
The thick clouds outside continued to swallow the moonlight. Inside, the Oak Lab was pitch dark. Adjusting her head-mounted night-vision goggles, she crept forward. Though the screen painted the world in strange hues, she could see clearly enough.
She approached Professor Oak's office. Her arm shimmered, its texture melting—Ditto had wrapped itself around her skin. It slipped into the lock like fluid and morphed into a perfect key. With a click, the door opened.
Quietly closing the door behind her, she reached the Professor's desk. Stacks of papers and notes lay scattered atop, but she didn't touch them. She was here to steal, not sabotage.
"Found it! And with the manual too—score!"
Her eyes lit up. That strange red device she saw a boy carrying earlier had caught her attention. She suspected there might be spares in the lab, and luck was on her side.
"Time to go! Let's check the Pokémon storage room next."
Clearly pleased, she skipped lightly through the hallway. She didn't notice the small surveillance camera above, which had captured everything.
—
"Someone else broke into the lab. Again,"
Already half-asleep in bed, Logan groaned in annoyance as Mewtwo's telepathic voice echoed in his mind.
"Last night it was Ash. Who is it tonight?"
He had spent the evening prepping for his journey, packing gear and organizing essentials. Tonight was supposed to be his last proper sleep before life on the road—camping in the wild, away from the luxuries of a proper bed.
"No idea. I haven't seen her before… but from her actions, she's clearly up to no good. She's searching for something."
"A thief?" Logan guessed immediately.
Mewtwo paused, clearly processing the term.
"Based on my understanding of human vocabulary… yes. She can be described as a thief."
"Well then, a thief it is."
Logan leapt out of bed. With Mewtwo's help, surveillance was easy. Not even Rocket HQ's psychic dampeners could block Mewtwo's probing mind. And the Master Ball, with its intricate design, didn't limit Mewtwo's telepathy.
Even while inside the ball, Mewtwo could monitor the entire lab with ease.
Logan didn't alert Professor Oak. If the thief panicked and got violent, Oak's aging frame wouldn't withstand the fight. Logan could handle it—with Mewtwo's protection, he feared nothing.
He didn't bother turning on the lights. His eyes shimmered with an invisible purple glow, stripping away the darkness instantly. He could've relied entirely on Mewtwo's mental mapping, but the neural strain from that was unpleasant.
Even now, this psychic-enhanced vision made the world feel... fake. Logan never liked it. The world looked unreal through these eyes.
—
"Ugh, nothing but basic Pokémon? Come on! Isn't there a single rare one in here? I'm nearly out of money… Am I really going to be stuck eating wild berries in the woods? Gross!"
She muttered to herself as she peered into Pokéballs, her voice light and sweet with a strangely charming tone. Most of the stored Pokémon were common species. Some cowered inside their balls. Others bared their teeth.
"Wait… this is Professor Oak's lab. There's no way there aren't rare Pokémon here. They must be stashed in a more secure spot!"
Finally realizing the obvious, she looked around. With multiple buildings and potential secret areas, searching everything would be foolish.
"Whatever, I've got the Pokédex. Good enough for one night."
She made her choice. A deeper infiltration wasn't worth the risk. But just as she turned—
"Y'know, for a thief, you sure talk a lot. Kinda unprofessional, don't you think?"
A voice spoke behind her, playful and amused. The thief jumped, nearly screaming—but instinct kicked in. She slapped a hand over her mouth. Her bright eyes shimmered like pearls in the dark—startled, yet captivating.
'Crap, busted! How?!'
No time to think. She had to run.
Spinning around, she accidentally knocked over a rack. Pokéballs clattered everywhere.
"Huh?"
Logan's eyes narrowed. Those Pokéballs weren't empty. If any opened by accident, the lab would descend into chaos.
'Whether intentional or not… that's a dirty trick.'
He raised a hand. The scattered Pokéballs froze mid-air in a purple glow and neatly returned to their places.
The fleeing thief saw this, and her face turned pale.
"P-psychic powers?!"
She assumed Logan was one of the rare humans born with telekinesis.
"Huh?"
Logan raised an eyebrow. From behind, he could see her long hair—clearly a girl. But her voice… that delicate, melodious voice caught him off guard.
Still, he didn't hesitate. Pretty voice or not, she might be dangerous. He raised his hand again.
The thief's instincts screamed at her. She'd heard stories. Psychics often partnered with powerful Psychic Pokémon—battles with them could be brutal.
She glanced around, but saw no Pokémon. She didn't know Logan's powers came from Mewtwo. Borrowed power, perhaps—but still overwhelming.
"Jigglypuff, Sing! Now!"
She threw out a Pokéball. The familiar round pink Pokémon emerged and began its sweet lullaby. The melody was enchanting… but Logan felt a fog descending over his thoughts.
"Watch out. The song is affecting you."
Mewtwo's voice pierced his mind, clearing his head. Without a Psychic Pokémon of his own for shielding, Logan was vulnerable—but Mewtwo's presence saved him.
The thief was already escaping. Logan frowned. The Sing attack hadn't affected her?
He didn't know she was wearing custom earbuds—designed to cancel out her own Jigglypuff's song. She'd used this trick to escape countless times. A professional always had a plan B.
Then she spotted something.
"Is that… a Squirtle?"
On a pedestal were three special Pokéballs—only one remained. The name tag read "Squirtle." Clearly important.
"A bonus like this? Can't leave it behind."
She snatched it and bolted.
Logan gave chase, only to see her rising into the sky—using Jigglypuff as a living hot-air balloon.
"Mewtwo, I'm counting on you."
He had no patience for more games. Whether flying or floating, no one escaped Mewtwo.
"Leave it to me."
Even inside the Master Ball, Mewtwo began charging its psychic energy. He'd strike fast, then return to minimize exposure. Logan reached for the Master Ball—
Suddenly, the lab lights snapped on. Professor Oak's voice rang out:
"…No need, Logan. Let her go."
Logan paused, confused, his fingers loosening from the Master Ball.
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