"Eevee, revert back to your original form," Gary said.
"Vui!"
Flareon nodded obediently. A wash of white light rippled across its body, and its frame began to shrink within the glow. When the luminescence faded, the sleek flame-colored fur and bushy collar had disappeared entirely, replaced by the familiar cream-brown coat and fluffy tail of an Eevee.
Gary knelt down to its level, studying it with careful eyes. "Any discomfort?"
"Vui vui." Eevee shook its head, its dark eyes bright and alert. No pain, no lingering soreness—just the faint warmth of residual energy fading from its body.
"Good." Gary paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "By the way, Eevee… have you ever tried evolving consecutively? One form right after another, without the cooldown?"
"Vui…?"
Eevee tilted its head, ears twitching with uncertainty.
Ever since Blaine had sent the Multi-Attribute System data to Professor Oak, their testing had always followed Blaine's research guidelines strictly: evolve once, then wait at least an hour before attempting another evolution. That was the safe protocol. Continuous evolution—shifting forms back-to-back—had never been attempted.
"So," Gary continued, a glint of curiosity in his eyes, "do you want to test your limit?"
Eevee's expression shifted instantly.
Test… my limit?
A cold trickle of unease ran through the little Pokémon. It had heard enough from Professor Oak's notes to know that consecutive evolution wasn't just uncomfortable—it was supposed to hurt.
"Vui vui…" Eevee let out a nervous whimper, its ears flattening slightly against its head.
"Try evolving again," Gary said, keeping his tone calm and encouraging. "This time, shift into Vaporeon."
"Vuiii…" Eevee shuffled its paws, clearly reluctant. Even though it hadn't experienced consecutive evolution firsthand, Professor Oak's research had been explicit: rapid successive evolution placed enormous strain on the body and could cause significant pain.
Gary crouched down, meeting Eevee's gaze at eye level. "Think of it like taking a hard hit from a strong opponent's move in battle. You've endured worse." His voice softened. "Besides, you need to know where your limit is. If something unexpected happens in the future—a crisis, an emergency—you might need to switch forms rapidly. Better to find out now, in a safe environment, than when it really counts."
Eevee stared at him for a long moment, weighing the words. Its tail swished back and forth in hesitation. Finally, with a determined huff, it nodded.
"Alright. Let's begin."
"Vui!"
Eevee closed its eyes and reached inward, channeling the elemental energy stored within the Multi-Attribute System. This time, it drew upon the Water element slot, pulling the evolutionary energy into its core. The moment the power flooded through its body, Eevee's face twisted. A sharp, searing pain lanced through every nerve—far worse than the first evolution had been.
Gary watched intently, his brow furrowed with concern. He could see Eevee trembling, its small body shaking as the white light of evolution engulfed it. The glow intensified, and Eevee's frame expanded, limbs elongating, its tail splitting and reshaping into a wide, fin-like structure.
When the light finally shattered and dissipated, a sleek, aquatic Pokémon stood in Eevee's place. Vaporeon's elegant blue body gleamed under the sunlight, its mermaid-like tail swishing behind it. But the graceful appearance belied the pain still lingering beneath the surface.
"Vapor!" Vaporeon let out a sharp, displeased cry, its body rigid with residual agony. The evolution process had been excruciating—a white-hot fire that had burned through every cell. But Eevee's willpower had always been formidable, and it had pushed through the worst of it by sheer determination.
"Does it hurt?" Gary asked quietly.
"Vui!" Vaporeon—still thinking of itself as Eevee at its core—barked emphatically. Of course it hurts!
It communicated through gestures and cries that the pain wasn't the only issue. The consecutive evolution had drained nearly a quarter of its total stamina in one go—a massive expenditure just from the transformation alone, before even throwing a single attack.
Gary's eyes widened. "That much stamina lost? Just from evolving?"
He straightened up, processing the implications. No wonder Blaine's Eevee fainted shortly after being forced to evolve consecutively during that incident. The stamina drain from rapid successive evolution must have pushed it past its breaking point. The cost of continuous evolution was far steeper than he'd anticipated.
"Do you still feel pain now?" he asked.
"Vapor." Vaporeon shook its head slowly. The pain during the actual transformation had been severe, but now that the process was complete, the agony had subsided to a dull ache. The worst of it was confined to those agonizing seconds mid-evolution.
Gary pulled up the Multi-Attribute System data on Eevee's current Vaporeon form, scanning the readouts carefully. The changes were consistent with what he'd observed when Eevee had evolved into Flareon—the moveset had adjusted to include Water Gun as a new addition, and its Ability had shifted to Water Absorb. Neither the base Ability framework nor the Hidden Ability slot had fundamentally changed from the template.
"Let's test your combat capability," Gary said, pointing toward an open stretch of rocky ground. "Use Liquidation."
"Vapor!"
Vaporeon whipped its elegant tail forward, and a sheath of pressurized water coalesced around it, compressing into a razor-sharp blade of swirling aqua energy that extended over three meters in length. With a powerful sweep, Vaporeon slashed the water blade downward into the earth.
CRACK!!
The ground split on impact, leaving a gouge several dozen centimeters deep carved into the rocky soil. Fragments of stone scattered in every direction. The raw power behind the strike was undeniable.
Gary nodded appreciatively, but his analytical mind was already identifying the limitation. Liquidation was a physical Water-type move, and Vaporeon was fundamentally a special attacker. Its Special Attack stat far outstripped its physical Attack. If Eevee had access to a powerful special Water-type move instead, the damage output in Vaporeon form would be significantly higher.
The same issue applied to Flareon, but in reverse. Flareon was a physical powerhouse, yet the Fire-type moves currently in Eevee's arsenal were Fire Blast—a special attack—and Quick Attack, which was physical but pitifully weak in terms of raw damage.
There's a mismatch in both forms, Gary thought, crossing his arms. Vaporeon needs special Water moves. Flareon needs physical Fire moves. I'll need to acquire some TMs to round out Eevee's coverage properly.
He mentally reviewed the Sinnoh Gym circuit. He'd already collected all the badges, and there weren't any remaining Gym challenges that might reward useful TMs. He'd have to look into purchasing or trading for the right moves separately.
"Alright, that's enough testing for today," Gary said, returning Vaporeon to its Poké Ball after it reverted back to Eevee form. "You did well. Rest up."
After establishing the baseline data on Eevee's consecutive evolution limits, Gary returned to the Pokémon Center and threw himself into an intensive training regimen. Every day that followed was devoted to pushing his team's strength higher across the board, determined to maximize their growth before the Lily of the Valley Conference began.
A week passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.
Gary rose early that morning, washed up, and climbed onto Garchomp's back. The land shark Pokémon launched into the sky with a thunderous beat of its fins, carrying Gary northwest toward the towering peaks of Mt. Coronet.
Over the past week, Gary had been scouting the mountain range methodically. He'd located the ancient ruins buried deep within Mt. Coronet's labyrinthine passes and had established a routine: observe the ruins each morning, return to base for training each afternoon. Today was no different—except that when he arrived, things had changed.
To avoid detection by Team Galactic, Gary had Garchomp take an indirect route, weaving through the jagged mountain corridors and using the peaks themselves as natural cover. The detour added more than ten minutes to the flight, but caution was paramount. Team Galactic's presence on Mt. Coronet was no secret, and Gary had no intention of drawing attention to himself prematurely.
As Garchomp descended silently behind a ridge overlooking the ruins, Gary's sharp eyes caught movement below.
What the—?
Four figures crouched behind a cluster of large boulders near the entrance to the ruins. Gary squinted, and recognition hit him almost immediately.
"Looker… and the Team Rocket trio?"
The Interpol agent's distinctive brown trenchcoat was unmistakable, even partially hidden behind the rocks. And beside him, huddled together with exaggerated stealth, were the unmistakable silhouettes of Jessie, James, and Meowth.
How did those four end up working together? Gary's brow furrowed. His memories of the Sinnoh Region's storyline were hazy in places, but he knew that if Looker and the Team Rocket trio were converging on the same location, something significant was about to unfold.
Beyond them, at the actual entrance to the ruins, Gary counted four Team Galactic grunts standing guard. They wore the organization's standard uniform—stark white jumpsuits paired with that absurd bowl-cut green hair that seemed to be mandatory for every grunt. They looked bored, standing in pairs on either side of the ancient stone doorway.
Interesting. Gary settled into a comfortable position behind the ridge, content to observe. Let's see what Looker and those three are planning. The Lake Trio's connection to these ruins means things will escalate sooner or later—I might as well let events play out and position myself accordingly.
He reached for a Poké Ball and released Gengar. The Ghost-type materialized in a swirl of purple shadow, its wide grin already splitting its face.
"Gengar," Gary said in a low voice, "slip into the shadows near the entrance of the ruins. Stay hidden and wait. Follow my lead—if I don't make a move, neither do you. Understood?"
"Gen-gar!" Gengar flashed a thumbs-up, its crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. Then, like ink dissolving into water, the Ghost-type melted into Gary's shadow and glided silently across the rocky ground, slipping from shadow to shadow until it reached the darkened alcove beside the ruins' entrance. It vanished completely, invisible and undetectable.
Meanwhile, below, the unlikely alliance of Looker and the Team Rocket trio was already in motion.
Gary watched with a mixture of amusement and genuine surprise as Jessie, James, and Meowth produced a set of Team Galactic uniforms from seemingly nowhere—complete with matching green wigs. Within moments, the three of them had transformed themselves into utterly convincing Team Galactic grunts. The disguises were flawless. Every detail, from the cut of the uniform to the ridiculous hairstyle, was replicated with startling precision.
Say what you will about those three, Gary thought, suppressing a smirk, but their infiltration skills are genuinely impressive.
Looker, too, had changed into a spare uniform. The four of them straightened up, fixed their expressions into stern, professional masks, and marched toward the ruins' entrance with deliberate, confident strides.
The four Team Galactic grunts on guard duty glanced up as they approached. Seeing four figures in identical uniforms walking toward them with purposeful authority, the guards visibly relaxed. They assumed this was a shift change—a replacement squad sent to relieve them.
That assumption cost them dearly.
Looker and the Team Rocket trio might not have possessed powerful Pokémon, but their personal combat skills were another matter entirely. The International Police trained its agents in close-quarters techniques, and Team Rocket's elite program drilled hand-to-hand fighting into every operative who survived long enough to earn a rank. Among the trio, Jessie was by far the most dangerous in a physical confrontation—her combat prowess was formidable enough that she'd once boasted, and not without justification, that any Pokémon who wanted to fight her had better be prepared to fight for real.
The takedown was swift and decisive. Before the Team Galactic grunts could even register what was happening, they were subdued—disarmed, restrained, and dragged unceremoniously behind a cluster of boulders. Bound and gagged, the four guards lay in a heap, thoroughly neutralized.