Pokemon: Sandstorm Elite

After the Elite Exhibition Match between Klein and Will concluded, Klein's back faded into the distance.

A soft yet warm voice suddenly spoke up.

"Little girl, you seem to have some misunderstandings about Elite Klein."

Fawn clenched her fists. "It's not a misunderstanding. Rosa is missing, maybe even dead. And yet, he gets to stand there, shining in the spotlight as an Elite. It's his fault!"

The woman didn't seem to recognize Rosa, but she smiled kindly nonetheless.

"You shouldn't accuse an Elite without evidence," she said gently, stepping forward and patting Fawn's head. "Tell you what—how about I help you investigate him? See if he really did anything wrong?"

Following the mysterious woman's guidance, Fawn studied her provided opponent analysis and battle strategies, pushing herself to win the Kanto Regional Tournament. When the time came, she challenged Klein instead of the Champion, forcing him to leave for Cinnabar Island.

From start to finish, Fawn never felt she had done anything wrong.

The moonlight shimmered on the battlefield.

As if sensing Klein's shift in emotions, his Ninetales stopped holding back. A dazzling aurora swept across the stadium.

Fawn's own Ninetales took the full brunt of the attack and was sent flying, collapsing unconscious outside the ring.

"The battle is over! This exhibition match has been completed successfully!"

The announcer's voice echoed through the stadium.

"As a huge fan of Klein, Fawn put on an excellent performance! And look—Elite Klein is walking toward her now, probably to offer some words of encouragement!"

Fawn, still gripping her Poké Ball, tensed as Klein approached. A flicker of fear crossed her face, but she stubbornly lifted her chin.

"I know exactly what I've done," she said, voice shaking. "But for Rosa, everything was worth it."

She barely finished speaking when—

Slap!

Klein's open palm met her cheek with full force.

Fawn stumbled backward, a burning pain spreading across her face. Tears involuntarily welled up in her eyes.

Gasps filled the arena.

"What the hell is he doing?!"

The entire stadium erupted in shock and anger. Even the League officials were stunned by Klein's sudden aggression.

Klein's lips trembled slightly, his voice carrying a rare uncertainty.

"I don't blame you," he murmured. "You don't understand what you've done."

Then his voice hardened.

"But I do regret this. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

Fawn's breath hitched.

Then—

A horrifying image appeared in front of her.

A projected screen from Klein's VR device displayed a brutally crushed Machamp. Blood splattered across the battlefield, its head completely caved in.

Fawn's stomach churned.

Her knees buckled, and she vomited on the spot.

More images followed.

One after another, like a slideshow of nightmares.

Scenes of massacred Pokémon, dismembered bodies, and brutal executions flashed before her.

In the broadcast room, Kanto TV quickly cut away from the horrifying footage, leaving television viewers only seeing Klein slap a little girl and show her some "disturbing" images.

The internet exploded.

Angry posts flooded Klein's social media.

"How dare he hit a little girl?!"

"What the hell is wrong with him?!"

"Klein should be stripped of his title immediately!"

Back in the stands, Lance and Bruno exchanged serious glances.

"This… is about Cinnabar Island."

Realizing the severity of the situation, League security personnel quickly began escorting the audience out. The closing ceremony was canceled entirely.

Fawn staggered, her face pale.

Her lips trembled as she spoke.

"I… I didn't know… She—that woman—she was kind to me! She trained me, she helped me… I didn't think she would—"

Her words fell apart in the air.

Klein said nothing.

Bruno, however, placed a firm hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

Officer Jenny stepped forward. "We need to take Fawn into League custody for questioning."

Lorelei examined the photos carefully.

"It's her," she confirmed.

The Woman in the Pikachu Mask.

A legendary criminal in Kanto's underworld.

Brutal. Ruthless. Infamous.

Even Team Rocket had issued a black-market bounty on her head.

"She disappeared a few years ago," Lorelei muttered. "Rumors said she was working for foreign organizations, collecting ancient artifacts from lost civilizations."

She glanced at Klein.

"You suspected something, didn't you?"

Klein crossed his arms. "Not really. I just had a bad feeling."

"Fawn won the tournament because of that woman's interference. She clearly holds influence within the League."

Klein spoke calmly, but the Elite Four knew him well.

This fifteen-year-old boy was suppressing immense fury.

Lance nodded.

"Then let's not waste time. We're leaving for Cinnabar Island immediately."

Only Dragonite could safely navigate the island's violent magnetic storms.

"We move now," Lance ordered.

Klein stepped forward to climb onto Dragonite but hesitated.

In the distance, Fawn, now escorted by Officer Jenny, looked back at him.

His lips parted as if to say something—then closed.

Fawn would be taken to the League's juvenile detention center for questioning.

Her Trainer License was at risk of being revoked.

No matter what, Klein couldn't ignore his own responsibility.

Years ago, her parents entrusted her to Rosa and him.

He had failed them.

The Elite Four exchanged glances.

Finally, Agatha spoke.

"Her tournament title is revoked. As for her Trainer status… we'll see how she behaves in detention."

Klein exhaled slowly.

"Thank you, Agatha."

At the very least, Fawn wouldn't be completely abandoned by the League.

He bowed slightly.

"This happened because I failed to guide her properly," he admitted. "And I didn't secure Cinnabar Island well enough."

"You're being too hard on yourself," Agatha said. "Some things are simply… beyond our control."

As Lance's Dragonite soared toward Cinnabar Island, the League issued an official statement on the situation.

The public, however, refused to believe it.

"The League is just covering for Klein!"

"They sent a little girl to a prison camp?!"

"How can they blame a TEN-YEAR-OLD?!"

For the first few hours, public opinion was overwhelmingly in Fawn's favor.

Then—

An anonymous League staff member posted photos of the Cinnabar Island massacre.

Ching-chong: Look at these images. Now go ahead and keep defending her. Whose conscience is really at fault here?

Silence.

The outrage shifted.

A red-haired trainer leaned back in his chair, reading the League's statement.

"Huh. You're not ranting this time," said a twin-tailed girl beside him.

"I saw Klein's face when he looked at her," the red-haired trainer said lazily. "Concern. Regret. Anger. That wasn't an act."

The girl pouted. "Still, Fawn was just a tiny girl."

"Exactly," he smirked. "She's about your height. A bean sprout."

"GO TO HELL!"

(End of Chapter)