Pokemon: A Gym Leader's Rise(SI)

Gladion walked through the Moonwood Gym's Pokémon ranch which was connected to both the gym and their house.

Beyond the public pastures, hidden beneath a nondescript barn, lay a secret basement, accessible only by a biometric scan.

Gladion did the scan and then descended the spiral staircase. His psychic senses swept the corridor, ensuring no intrusions, his steps silent as he approached a reinforced steel door, its surface etched with anti-psychic formation to prevent anyone from teleporting in or out.

The door hissed open, revealing a dimly lit cell. A bloodied man, a Team Rocket grunt in tattered black uniform, was chained to a chair, his face bruised, eyes wild with terror.

He screamed, a raw, guttural sound, as Ultron, Gladion's Metagross, loomed over him, its four steel legs clicking ominously.

Ultron's red eyes glowed, psychic energy crackling as it battered against a shimmering barrier around the man's mind—a psychic shield of such potency it had resisted weeks of assault by a pseudo-legendary.

The grunt's screams faltered into whimpers, his body trembling, blood dripping from his nose as Ultron's Psychic probed relentlessly.

Gladion's psychic aura flared, analyzing the barrier. 'Mewtwo's work definitely,' he concluded, 'No other Psychic-type could give Ultron and me this much trouble.'

Mewtwo, the genetic monstrosity rumored to be Team Rocket's ultimate weapon, was the only Pokémon capable of crafting a shield so resilient. 'Even an Alakazam or a Gardevoir would've cracked by now.'

He glanced at the grunt, the sole survivor of the Mt. Moon mine massacre, his survival a calculated choice. 'Rhyperior had left a graveyard, but I needed one alive—for answers.'

His thoughts drifted to the mine attack, weeks ago. Team Rocket had targeted his Metal Coat operations, aiming to sabotage his claim and discredit him.

'They didn't expect Rhyperior.' Gladion's smirk widened. 'Grandpa's Rhyhorn was a bloodthirsty brute, forged in the Infinite Pokémon Wars—decades of wat battles and he left few foes alive in his wake.'

And that bloodthirsty monster had evolved into a Rhyperior.

He was not Gladion's Pokemon but he was still a Pokemon that watched Gladion grow up and thus Gladion had a bond with him.

He was too bloodthirsty for public battles, but he was perfect for guarding the Vortex family and their Pokemon.

Officially, the League believed Gladion's Tyranitar, Colossus, had defended the mine, with most grunts killed by its Hyper Beam or buried under rubble.

'I let them think that,' Gladion mused, his psychic senses scanning for eavesdroppers.

'Rhyperior's my ace in the hole. Rocket or any other people doesn't need to know he exists—yet.'

The cover-up was meticulous: recovered bodies showed Tyranitar's marks, others were reported crushed, discouraging Rocket investigations.

'They'll assume it was a standard defense, not a new monster." The captured grunt, healed just enough to survive, was his key to deeper secrets.

Gladion had a history of targeting Rocket hideouts during the past five years, using psychic mind-reading to extract locations and plans. Read a grunt's mind, raid a base, cripple their ops.

His methods skirted League rules, which frowned on psychic invasion of human minds, but Gladion didn't care. 'Giovanni must have figured it out—hence this Mewtwo shield.'

The grunt's barrier was proof of Rocket's new defenses, a counter to Gladion's tactics. 'Smart move, Giovanni, but I'll break through eventually.' His smirk darkened, relishing the challenge. 'You can't complain to the League, either.'

Giovanni's silence was enforced by politics. 'Everyone—League, Gym Leaders, even Pryce—loves that I'm gutting Rocket's empire.'

Team Rocket, Indigo's largest criminal syndicate, was a blight, and Gladion's raids—bases burned, labs destroyed—were a public service. They suspect that Gladion was using his psychic powers to read mind but they had no proof or motivation to bring it to light.

Gladion mumbled under his breath 'Suck it, Giovanni. You're stuck watching your kingdom crumble.'

The League turned a blind eye, happy to see Rocket weakened, and Gladion exploited that leniency ruthlessly.

"Any luck, Ultron?" Gladion asked, his voice low, stepping closer to the cell.

Ultron's AI-like telepathy responded, its tone precise but tinged with frustration. 'Progress is limited, Sir. I've shattered several layers of the psychic barrier, but actionable intelligence remains elusive—no hideout locations, no base schematics.'

'However, I've uncovered a significant revelation: Team Rocket is fractured into two factions.'

Gladion's eyes narrowed, his psychic senses sharpening. "Go on."

'One faction is led by Giovanni, the current leader. The other is commanded by his mother, the founder of Team Rocket, known as Madame Boss. There is significant animosity between them. She disapproves of Giovanni's leadership, causing internal division.'

Gladion's smirk turned wild, a predator scenting blood. "Oh, what do we have here? Even the great Giovanni's got family drama."

His mind raced, piecing together the implications. 'Madame Boss—Giovanni's mother.' He recalled vague manga details, his knowledge spotty.

'She's a legend—ruthless, cunning, maybe worse than her son.' The idea of Rocket's infighting was a goldmine. 'If she's challenging Giovanni, I could exploit that. Maybe even ally with her to take him down.'

He chuckled, the thought audacious. 'Me, teaming with Madame Boss? Risky, but tempting.'

His expression sobered thought caution creeping in. 'I have not read much about her in the manga. But she must be terrifying—, she built Rocket from nothing. I'd need more intel before even thinking of approaching her. One wrong move, and I'm toast.'

"Good job, Ultron. Keep breaking those barriers. Find me something juicy—hideouts, plans, anything I can use." Ultron's eyes pulsed, acknowledging the order, its Psychic resuming its relentless assault.

---Author Notes------

Y'all can read 18 extra chapters on my pat*reon. 6 more than what was offered earlier!!

https://pat reon.com/mrmime24

[No Space in pat*reon]