It was rather incredible how blind people can be to the reality around them. How an entire world can exist in tandem with their own and they can be completely ignorant to it. Innocent remarks, like ones on the weather or a simple order of coffee, can seem so ordinary and mundane to some, and yet to others have a heavy weight upon them. That person on the park bench? That bag by their foot? That hides a device with the capability to reshape our whole world. That woman who ordered a latte? She’s receiving orders to deal with interference. The man you bumped into and gave a quick ‘sorry’ to? He’s being blackmailed by someone. Someone who could easily bring his own world crashing down around his shoulders. A person with so much influence, he could have everything he ever wanted and seeks everything he desires like a bloodhound chasing a rabbit. Never giving up. Relentless. Unforgiving.
A devil in a suit.
So whilst many people go about their regular business, worrying over the trivial problems of broken nails, football matches and broken phones, all around them is a war. A war between many different powers that is invisible unless you’re involved or go looking for them. They operate discretely; any action premeditated and any operation was protected from ignorant eyes by the cover of darkness and manipulation. Sneaky moves, made to undermine the competition and bolster their own standing. A war with no direct weapons until the end, when confrontation was forced from one of the opposition and the fighting became outright and underhanded; weapons’ being revealed until only one was left standing and the others in shambles. This was the way it would end, and in one person’s eyes, he would be the victor standing on the backs of his enemies. Then he would move on to other, larger goals. Conquering his foes wouldn’t be enough for that, but it would give him a strong position. And then there was his other face; his guise as the kind, thoughtful business man in charge of his massive, multi-national, multi-million company. His influence would be even stronger; bribing and corrupting politicians, manipulating public opinions and his sheer wealth were more than intimidating. A man like that could rule the world...
If he played his cards right.
And he was doing just that; each move was clear and concise, with preparation and meditation on each action long before the move was played and each one was purposeful. Truly intimidating. To try and incite rebellion against such a man, within the ranks of his minions, was not an easy task. But there are always those who will do anything and go to any length to do such a thing. If given the drive to do so, and that’s what he gave them. He gave some of the people the drive to rebel and fight back. Sometimes intentionally. Why? Because it always showed his absolute strength and power when he crushed rebellion and spirit. It even gave him some pleasure to prove his power over them. How mighty it made him feel.
But sometimes, it’s an accident. Through fault of his own is this drive created and sometimes, it creates an uncontrolled spark that could ruin even the best laid plans. Sometimes this spirit already existed and he kept on feeding it without realising what he was doing. These rebellions are even stronger; they’re unpredictable and uncalculated and can be destructive on a larger scale. This was what he could not allow. And yet it happened anyway.
Two girls. Sisters even. Both quite different in appearance and personality, but the exact same in determination. The elder of the two was slated to be Giovanni’s heir; her charisma that was nurtured since birth and her ability to weave such lies that could fool even the cleverest of men made her quite dangerous to competition. Her analysis of a situation and to act accordingly made her a natural choice. But then there was the younger of the two; she was just as clever as her sister, just as charismatic and just as good a liar, though a little brash and at times seemed too impatient to prove her intelligence made Giovanni reluctant to even consider her. It wasn’t until she was twelve years old did that change. She had walked around, repeating the same line about an upcoming tragedy, death and destruction and, due to some of his own partial fatherly-concern (which was an extreme rarity) Giovanni sent the girl to her mother, under the impression that twelve years of confinement, with only six to eight weeks of freedom per year, was beginning to take its toll. It was only after it happened did anyone realise just what gifts she had.
Fire. An explosion that was no accident. It killed everyone inside. Everyone except the result of years of work. Mewtwo had destroyed the lab in its rage of being a human ‘play thing’ and went along with Giovanni to become stronger, only to discover it was being used as a weapon and escaped once more. It was only days after the lab’s destruction though, did Giovanni realise what he had, sitting in a village on the other side of the region. A girl with foresight. He sent for her immediately only to be consumed in rage.
She was gone. Stolen a Charmander from the local Pokémon Professor and disappeared into the night; untraceable and impossible to capture. The thought of such a useful tool slipping through his fingers infuriated Giovanni, but despite his best efforts, he never found her. The only time he knew of correspondence was the letters sent to the girl’s mother, his wife. But even with his various connections, it was impossible to tell where they had come from. He was frustrated that he was being outsmarted by a child, though impressed she was able to invade someone of his stature for so long. In fact, it had been about five years since that day and there was still no sign of her whereabouts. At least not to him. Perhaps she would have been the best heir after all; she was cunning and sly. Impossible to predict and had learned lies and secrecy at her mother’s knee. If she had stayed, she would have been chosen.
Then she too, would have been another devil in disguise.