(Grey's POV)
The adrenaline finally crashed, leaving me in a state of bone-deep exhaustion I'd never felt before. After the debacle at the Tower, I retreated to the Lavender Pokémon Center like a wounded animal.
I didn't have the energy to overthink the blood on the stone or the sound of that gunshot. I slept like a Snorlax, and my Pokémon—equally drained from the high-intensity combat—out through the night alongside me. A full day passed in a blur of restorative sleep and silent recovery.=
The next morning, the heavy atmosphere of the town seemed slightly lifted, at least for me. Nurse Joy, her eyes a little less shadowed than before, directed me toward the local Police Station to meet with Officer Jenny.
As I walked through the streets, the change was palpable. The morose, silent citizens who had ignored me or looked at me with suspicion were now nodding in my direction. Some actually smiled; a few even stopped to mutter a quiet "Thank you" as I passed.
When I reached the station, I found Jenny from Celadon waiting for me. The debriefing was long and clinical. She put me through the wringer, asking for every detail of my decision-making process, the specific moves used, and the timeline of the engagement. By the time we finished, she softened her tone.
"You did well, Grey. Better than anyone had a right to expect," she said, sliding a business card across the desk. "But I'm marking you down for a mandatory therapy session with the League's specialists."
I looked at the card, then back at her, a bit defensive. "Therapy? I'm fine. Just a bit tired."
"You had a gun pointed at your face, Grey," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "You witnessed a cold-blooded execution of a Pokémon and engaged in high-stakes urban combat. There's nothing embarrassing about it. I go every third day myself. Even the Elite Four and some Gym Leaders have these sessions on their permanent schedules. It's part of the job when you deal with this level of trauma."
I took the card, the weight of the previous day suddenly feeling a bit heavier. I changed the subject, asking about Petrel. Jenny's face darkened instantly.
"Derek caught him," she admitted. "Briefly. He had Petrel cornered until an ambush turned the tide. Another Rocket Executive tracked their location and teleported in with reinforcements to extract him. Derek wasn't alone, though; he'd called in two other ACE members who arrived just as things were escalating. They almost had both Executives pinned when... something happened."
She paused, looking out the window. "A Pokémon teleported into the middle of the fray. It took out Derek's Wobbuffet with a single Shadow Ball—blasted right through its defenses—and vanished with the Rockets before the ACE trainers could counter. Don't look into this too much, Grey. It's in ACE's hands now."
"ACE?" I asked. I knew the term "Ace Trainer" from the games as a rank, but the way she said it made it sound like a branch of the military.
"The Advanced Combat Experts," Jenny explained. "They're a specialized force separate from the police, reporting directly to the Elite Four and the Champion. The entry barrier is so high only the top tier of trainers can even apply. They handle the things we can't: terrorist organizations, high-level trafficking, and 'extraterrestrial' or high-tier psychic cases. The government is taking this incident very seriously. Because of your call and the subsequent raid, we captured enough mid-level officers to map out a huge portion of Rocket's internal functions. The ACE members wiped out nearly half of the Pokémon belonging to those two Executives. Even if Rocket replenishes their ranks, losing seasoned, high-level Pokémon like that is a massive financial and strategic blow."
"What about Mr. Fuji?" I asked, feeling a pang of guilt for the old man.
"He's been taken to League Headquarters for questioning," she said. "The League has a lot of questions about why Team Rocket would commit so many resources and risk an Executive to kidnap a man in a town they usually ignore. There's a history there they need to dig through."
I slumped in my chair. While I understood the necessity of detaining him, the selfish part of me realized my immediate goal was shot. "So... no Gym battle then? I came here for my third badge."
Jenny gave a small, sympathetic smile. "I'm afraid not. You'll have to head to Vermilion for your third. But," she added, brightening up, "you aren't leaving empty-handed. You're being awarded for bravery. The Police, the Government, and even ACE have authorized a reward package for your conduct. And the citizens of Lavender? They've told the Pokémart to give you major concessions and free supplies. Sometimes, being a helping others actually pays the bills."
She stood up and handed me a Medal of Honor—a heavy, silver badge. It wasn't a Gym badge, but she explained that it carried a different kind of weight. "This gives you a reputation with the League and the police force. It says you're reliable when the world goes sideways."
She also mentioned that she was glad I called her and Derek first. "It was a wise move, Grey. If you'd tried to play the lone hero without backup, you'd be dead. Remember that."
As the conversation wound down, I asked about the Pokémon left behind—both the Rockets' and the citizens'. Jenny's expression went grim again. "It's a mess. We're sorting through the trauma. The citizens' Pokémon are being reunited with them if they recognize their trainers. As for the Rocket Pokémon... they're being sent to a rehabilitation center. Some have been bred or trained to be so feral they're unrecognizable as the species they once were. We try to stabilize and release them to the wild, but... the ones that are too far gone, too influenced by Rocket's 'conditioning'... we have to put them down."
I nodded silently, a hollow feeling in my stomach. I told her my plan was to move on to Vermilion, and she suggested I stay until tomorrow. The League's monetary reward was coming in, and Derek would likely be the one to deliver the ACE award once the high-alert status cooled down. Apparently, the "Unknown Psychic" from the tower and a separate incident at Mt. Moon had the entire region's elite forces on edge.
Later that afternoon, I walked to the quiet outskirts of town, far from the looming shadow of the Tower. I released my team and sat under a gnarled tree to feed them their special rations. I looked at each of them—Axew, Meowth, Shellder, and Exeggcute.
"I wanted to talk to you guys," I said, my voice quiet. "About yesterday. I... I realized I was too harsh. My orders were ruthless."
I thought back to the rage I felt when the Marowak died. I had never imagined I had that side to me—a cold, vengeful streak that wanted to see the Rocket Pokémon suffer for the sins of their masters. It was frightening, yet there was a part of me that found it fascinating, a dark capability I hadn't known existed.
I had always prided myself on being the calm, composed strategist, but yesterday I let anger cloud my judgment.
"I think I'm going to take that therapy session in Vermilion," I told them. "I need to make sure I don't lose my head like that again."
My Pokémon watched me with a mix of understanding and loyalty. They had followed those orders without hesitation, but even they seemed to appreciate the return to a calmer pace. I decided then that I was done with Lavender Tower for now. I wouldn't step foot in that Tower again—not until I was much stronger, and perhaps not until the memory of that gunshot had faded.
Author's Note: I wanted to keep the procedures realistic and dropped a hint about possible future event