1 : The Genesis

His body was curled into a ball, he can feel is body floating in a thick cold liquid. He opened his eyes, scanning the surrounding.

He was encased inside a large glass tube filled with transparent substances that he can't identify. He was fitted with a mask, attached with a flexible tube to an unseen apparatus above him, providing oxygen for him to breathe.

The room was dimly lit, the only sources of light is the bright screen of computers and the lights that illuminated seven capsules, including his own. Dozens of people in white coat are absorbed by their work, failing to notice that he had awoken.

Then, a woman noticed his gaze, alerting the others while pointing her finger towards him. One by one the scientists began to stand up, their somber expression changed as they begin to cheer in excitement.

A middle-aged man with short black hair approached him. The man's clothes is different from the rest; a full-black suit over a white shirt, a small red emblem is embroidered on the left pocket of his suit, a delicate 'R'.

As his gaze met the man's brown eyes, a half smile formed across the man's face. Though muffled by the thick glass, he can still hear the man's word.

"Finally," the man said, he turned to the crowd behind him, "Bring this one out."

While the rest looked at him in awe, five of them reacted swiftly. Three of them approached him while two left the room.

One scientist operated the tube's control panel. With a few clicks, small holes opened on the bottom, draining out the liquid. With another clicks, the glass tube began to rise open, and the oxygen mask detached itself.

The two scientists helped him as he walked one step at a time, before finally resting him on a chair. While the other two returned, one holding a dry blue towel, the other holding a set of clothes.

The scientist with the towel approached him, warping the towel around his body. As he dried his body, he caught a glimpse of the exit.

Standing still was the silhouette of a boy, his face was obscured by the blinding light behind him, but he can sense his emotions, a mix of shock... and hatred.

"Hello," he heard a voice beside him. The boy left the frame as he shifted his attention to the man standing next to him, "Can you understand my words?"

He nervously nodded his head, his voice shaking as he stumbled out the words, "Who am I? Where am I? Who are you?"

"My name is Giovanni," the man said with a calm, steady tone, "And your name is Marcus. You are a clone, created by me in this laboratory."

Marcus' mind was plagued by many questions, but one burned the most: "Why?"

"You were created for a purpose," Giovanni said, carefully choosing his words, "One that requires strength, intellect, and abilities beyond the ordinary. We aim to bring about change that the world desperately needs, and you, Marcus, are the catalyst for that change."

"What change?" Marcus asked, furrowing his brow as suspicion began to take root.

Giovanni takes a deep breath before answering. "The change that we seeks is one of power and control. These power will allow us to create a new world order, one where we can establish our own rules and norms."

He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice takes on a more persuasive tone. "I see great potential in you, Marcus. You have the chance to be a part of something bigger, one that will change the world for the better. And I will do everything in my power to help you reach your full potential."

"And why should I trust you?" Marcus' tone became more aggressive as he began to feel skeptical, something felt wrong.

Giovanni's expression doesn't change, as he replied, "I understand your doubt, Marcus. Trust is something that cannot be forced or given; it must be earned. I will give you the time you need to decide whether or not you trust me."

* * * *

The following morning, Marcus woke up and took a moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, his vision was still hazy. He glanced around the room, it was dark, the lights was off. His gaze moved to the bed on the far-right corner. Giovanni's red-haired son was laying there, face turned towards the wall.

Marcus finally stood up, the weight of his body caused him to tumble as he walked to the door. He left the room, navigating through the busy hallways of the headquarters.

Marcus paused, his attention caught by a certain room; the room was filled with neatly arranged cages, the cages are made using sturdy metal, each containing one or more Pokémon.

'What..." Marcus whispered to himself. He began to walk closer, shrinking the distance between him and the cages, his troubled expression showed a mix of horror and disbelief.

Most of the Pokémon inside were wounded, yet there was no sign of any treatment being given to them – no food, water, or care of any kind.

As Marcus kneeled to take a closer look of the cages, the small Pokémon inside huddled away to the far edge, their tearful, terrified look reflecting their fear and apprehension.

Marcus took several deep breath and stood up. He looked back and forth, between the cages and the exit behind him, his mind racing with thoughts.

Eventually, he decided to leave the room, reluctantly closing the door behind him. He know that he couldn't get away releasing them...yet. But his goal was set clear; he will liberate them when the time comes.