(Unfathomable's Branch) Perspective Shift: Agent Blade

Disclaimer: Nothing that occurs in a chapter I write is cannon to the main story unless otherwise specified by BigBop38. These chapters are simply in an alternate version of the story, with new characters and such that I have come up with and most likely do not exist in the original.

Also, I will be mentioning characters and events that haven't appeared yet as of the break between the chapters within my own branch, so I heavily recommend reading more of the main story if you do not want anything spoiled.

You blink your eyes a few times, being more disoriented by the teleport than usual. That is... strange, you will definitely have to report that to the technicians once you have finished your debriefing. You rub the bridge of your nose as your vision returns, bracing for the headache of work you are about to have. Only... what greets your eyes is not the fluorescent-illuminated halls of the base, but instead a near pitch black chamber. Pausing for a moment, you wonder if you have ended up in a closet or something due to a glitch in the teleporter, it would make sense with the disorientation. But no, as you look around you are certainly in a wide-open space, one you recognize as being a cave like the one you had just teleported from.

Just as you let out a sigh and prepare to try and use the teleporter again, you hear a strange, raspy voice speak in a near whisper behind you. "Huh, so that actually worked. I hadn't expected it to, to be fully honest, but then again, I should have learned by now to never doubt his plans." You do a quick spin on your heel, your experience as an agent of Team Rocket taking over as you quickly assess the threat of this new individual.

Their form is barely distinguishable from the darkness that surrounds you. Whoever they are, they stand in a somewhat slouched position, their head hanging slightly to their left. Their clothing is nothing special, looking like an outfit an amateur burglar would put together to hide their identity. An oversized hooded jacket covered most of them, with athletic pants covering everything underneath. Their hood hung low, blocking their eyes from your view while a bandana covered the rest of their face. Hell, they even had boots that they tucked their pants into and gloves over their hands. The more you look at it, the more you can tell this outfit was designed specifically to not reveal anything of the person underneath.

Nonetheless, you are not going to be intimidated by someone who could very well be an edgy teenager who stole or got involved in something they shouldn't have. Still, they had demonstrated that they somehow were able to hijack you out of a teleport, so the situation had to be treated with a serious tone. "Listen, I don't know what it is that you are doing or who you are-"

They held up one of their arms somewhat limply to shush you as they spoke once more in their unsettling, hoarse voice. "Tu-tut-tu-tut-tut. Let us not waste time on whatever pointless threat that was about to turn into." They straighten up slightly, looking as if they are sizing you up despite the fact their hood is in the way of their vision, at least of your upper half. After a second, they resume speaking. "So... equipment is far too expensive to be a grunt. Plus, grunts don't work alone without supervision anyway. Lack of subordinates makes me lean away from a captain, not to mention the fact you were personally doing a field test."

You squint your eyes and refocus yourself, somewhat annoyed that you had seemingly misjudged your opponent. They clearly demonstrated the fact that they knew who they were up against, meaning they were either strong, stupid, or just plain crazy. If they were strong, the problem was obvious, stupid would make them easier but also messier, and if they were crazy it would be difficult to predict their actions.

Deciding for one last attempt at a peaceful resolution without getting out of a combat ready stance, you talk once more. "You are clearly aware of at least what I am a part of." They stare at you blankly, seemingly not caring much for what you have to say. "Then can you at least explain to me why you are doing this? I can't think of anything that would make it worth it to risk the ill will of Team Rocket."

The figure was motionless for a few moments, seemingly expecting you to say something else. After a long and unsettling silence, they eventually seem to realize that is all you are going to say. "Oh... You can't think of something that would make it worth it?" Their voice was full of venom and hatred. "Let me ask you, do you think the people you have harmed or worse would say that? The people you have robbed and kidnapped?" They readjust themselves, their head flopping to the right as they lean partially forward, "How about that poor girl you just ****?"

A grimace forces its way to your face as you are **** to briefly remember the unfortunate act. You of course had your own reasons that you did such a horrid thing, but this person had no right to your private situation. You recollect yourself and subtly reach one hand towards your Pokéballs, "It seems that there is not a hope of resolving this without a duel. I hope you are confident in your team-"

Before you can finish your statement, the shadowed character charges you, raising a fist in order to strike. The attack catches you somewhat off-guard, being far more used to battles being done with Pokémon that with your own fists, not that you are unskilled in hand-to-hand combat.

At the last second you manage to dodge their rather sloppy swing, having to stumble slightly to regain your footing. By the time you are recovered, they are already coming at you once more, however you are more prepared for it this time. With a swift pivot, you use their momentum against them, causing them to go past you as you get in a quick jab to their side.

When your fist meets their side, you are met with an unnatural feeling. You can feel the sensation of striking their side, but there is not give, no reaction from them at all aside from the simple readjustment as if you had pushed them lightly. Despite your lack of meaningful damage, the original intent of the dodge serves, and you are able to gain a bit of distance.

This distance doesn't last long, however, as they waste no time in resuming their offensive. What they lack in technique they make up for in sheer endurance, as you continue to evade their endless blows, gaining no proper reaction to any counterstrike you manage to land. With a bob-and-weave, you land yet another jab to their face, one they power through to finally land a blow to your elbow.

In contrast to their inhuman resilience, the hit doesn't feel all that worse than an average punch. Being struck in the elbow is not a fun experience regardless, but you had been expecting something more, since their tolerance to your attacks betrayed their appearance. Despite this, you could only dodge for so long, and even lesser blows begin to add up as time goes on.

By all metrics, you should have been winning this fight decisively. They hit you under half of the times they made a swing, and you were landing far more blows. It was simply this strange durability that left you feeling the pressure of this battle slowly mount. If something did not change, you would lose. That fact was something even your pride could not deny.

The cave made it near impossible to tell how much time had passed, but you can't imagine it was long before you had started to wear out. You could taste blood in your mouth, though you couldn't tell if it was from your nose or from one of the hits to your jaw. Your arms were sore and bruised from how much you had been blocking after you ran out of energy to dodge. Though, you also dodged less one you got a few painful kicks to your legs.

Taking quick stock of the situation, you manage to get in a kick that knocks them back enough to have a moment of time. As they stumble, barely managing to keep on their feet, you get just enough time to reach and grab a Pokéball from your belt. Not much caring which it is at the current second, you throw it down to let out your Pokémon, blocking the path of your attacker.

As the red silhouette of your Aegislash from within the ball, you take a moment to catch your breath and recover. Regaining your composure, you allow yourself to monologue. "Well then, that was an impressive display I shall give you that. However, the time has come to be serious about this, and-" You pause as you look up, confused at what you see.

Of course, you had expected to see the individual running, cowering, or something along those lines. Instead, they seem to be sizing up your Aegislash in a similar manner to you, only seemingly slightly less encouraged. You stare at them is disbelief, this certainly explained why they were fighting Team Rocket. For a person to even consider fighting a Pokémon, they had to be crazy...

Right?

You pant heavily as the white fades from your eyes again, falling to your knees. Your breath catches a few times from the pain, your bruised and hopefully not broken ribs making your chest feel sharp every time you inhale. You plant your fist into the ground, able to focus on that lesser pain as you push yourself back upright. Barely holding yourself up, you begin walking down the corridors of the place you had originally intended to go.

Limping your way along, holding yourself up against the wall as you fight to keep yourself standing for long enough to reach your destination. It is a losing battle, you can tell. The pain refuses to leave, and your fatigue only increases as you **** your tired legs forward. As your focus begins to wear out along with your adrenaline, you see a few figures standing just down the hallway. They seem to be discussing something, but quickly go quiet after noticing you. You open your mouth to request something of them, but your pain-addled mind can't think of what you were going to say as another flash sears through you, causing you to drop at last.

A blackness consumes your vision, or is it white? You can't tell, all you know is that your senses are gone, floating in a nothing for a brief moment. The feeling is uncomfortable, like being numb all over with a large cloth covering your eyes and strapped down so you can't remove it. You were able to prevent yourself from panicking, however, and the sensation slowly began to fade.

Awareness slowly returns to you, your senses waking up after your brief spell of unconsciousness. Or, at least you hope it was brief, as you didn't have a way of telling yet. As your thoughts return, you groan as you realize how late you must be to report your experiment. Alberich was going to chew you out to no end for not only your tardiness, but also the events that led up to it. And you would be extremely lucky if it stopped with just a lecture over an hour long.

Your brain slowly wakes up, finally managing to sort out the noises around you. There are a few people talking, but you can't quite make out who or about what. Eventually, you manage to start moving, your eyelids rising to give you a blurry view of everything around you. In the haze of your eyelashes, you can make out one figure next to you, clearly in doctor's garb. further away, you can only make out the silhouettes of three other individuals, one standing in front of the other two and speaking with them calmly yet with great authority. From the individual next to you, you are able to gain a slight relief that you most likely made it to the infirmary.

Closing your eyes again, you allow yourself to rest for a short amount of time. As much as you need to report, you are in no condition to. The only thing you can do at the moment is simply sit and recover until you have the energy to properly move again. While in a semi-conscious state, you attempt to go over what happened again in your mind and iron out the details. After all, there is no imaginable scenario where you are not heavily reprimanded for this, so you need to be sure you have as much of a qualitative report as possible.

Annoyingly, it seems your assailant's apparel served their purpose, as you are unable to recall any defining features of them to help limit the search. Their form was androgynous, and you were unable to see anything along the lines of hair, eye, or skin color. Their voice, despite being horrid on the ears, was not directly a tell of anything about them. Your frustration only continues to grow as you slowly come to the realization that you have very little to report on this potential threat.

Frustration is all you can feel as you wake up once more, finally with enough energy to not pass out soon again. As you wearily shift yourself around, you hear someone next to you turn to look your way, before standing and walking away. You manage to open your eyes, seeing what you expected: the infirmary. As you look around, you notice that the door is slowly closing, revealing to you that whoever had been waiting had left the room. Propping yourself up slightly to prevent yourself from falling back to a state of unconsciousness, you wait until someone enters.

The wait is not long, however what you find you were waiting for makes you wish it was longer. At first simply one of the doctors on the cite re-enters through the door, however you can immediately tell something is off from his demeanor. He is moving stiffly, locked at attention and not walking in the fluid manner you would expect of someone. His breathing isn't steady either, and he is visibly nervous and sweating. As he gets to just past the foot of your cot, he stops and spins around, eyes locked on the door behind him.

It takes only a glance back to realize why. Walking through the door is a figure you know all too well. Standing around 6' 2'', the lean figure has an authority that makes you aware of just how silent the room is, aside from his footsteps. His deep, blood-red eyes scan the room only briefly before locking onto you, a look of disappointment and annoyance on them clear for all to see. His naturally silver hair is divided into two bangs with the right slightly larger, with the rest being in a ponytail that reaches his mid back. His mouth forms into an annoyed snarl as he makes his way to you with purpose, his walk being inhumanly efficient, a theme of most of his behaviors. As he arrives at the base of your hospital bed, you get a close view of his all-too familiarly strange wardrobe, being three shirts, a light gray sandwiched between two blacks, as well as grey slacks and black dress shoes. To top it all off, he wears a black lab coat open over the whole thing, the symbol of team rocket placed upon the left breast.

There was no doubt in your mind. The man walking briskly up to you, was the man considered to have the second most power in the entirety of Team Rocket. The man you never want to get on the bad side of, due to his strange ability to invoke "dreams" and "nightmares". The man you had been on your mission on behalf of, the man that Agents do near half of their missions on behalf of. The man known for being inhuman, in his actions and his punishments, as well as his short temper.

Alberich of the Black Demise.

As he stops in front of you, standing even more perfectly still than the petrified doctor, he doesn't wait for the slightest moment before speaking. "Report, Agent Blade." His voice is dripping with disdain and annoyance, seemingly at the brink of rage due to being **** away from his experiments. His eyes glare at you, feeling as if they stare into your very soul. You know far better than to react in any meaningful way to this, as that would only waste more of the man's time.

Gathering your breath, you make as quick and brief of a report as possible, hoping that will appease him. "Sir, assignment completed." You take your eyes off of him only for a moment, as if looking away from him will cause imminent ****. In that short moment, you quickly grasp the location of your equipment, resting beside your bed. You lock your eyes back onto the Demise, slowly reaching for your items so you may hand him your report and be done with it.

Unfortunately, it seems he was not satisfied with this alone. "If your assignment was completed, would you kindly inform me as to why we are here in the infirmary, instead of in my lab a few hours ago, when you had first arrived?" His voice was angered, a change from his normal cold and superior tone. While it made him feel more human, there was no argument to be had that it felt any more comfortable to be the subject of.

You briefly collect your thoughts before attempting to sum it up quickly once again, "I was able to successfully acquire all of the necessary data with no issues. However, on return I was... intercepted." You grit your teeth slightly, knowing that despite your greatest hopes, it would not end here. Regardless, you manage to grab your items and begin slowly and quietly searching them for the data without looking away from Alberich.

As you expected, the Demise questions your answer. "Intercepted? I was under the impression that you had utilized the teleportation system to return. It is impossible to be intercepted from that method." His voice spoke with slight disgust, helping to slightly lower his open anger. "Did you then attempt to return on foot, before being **** to use the teleporter? If that is the case, I must question both your reasoning, and your reaction time."

Letting out a slight breath, you come to terms with the fact that this will not be over soon. "No, sir. After using the teleportation remote, I arrived somewhere other than the selected destination. I found that whatever happened had not been smooth, as it caused a great deal of disorientation more than is usually induced. After a moment to regain my bearings, I found myself in a dark chamber, with a hostile individual."

Alberich interrupted you before you could continue. "This is the individual that caused you condition, I presume?" You give a nod in reply. "Have they been taken care of?" You grimace as you shake your head. Squinting his eyes at you judgingly, he continues one more time. "Explain your failure to terminate the hostile, then give me a description."

You quickly comply. "The assailant was... abnormal. They had an endurance that I could not match, making no observable reaction to any attack I was able to land on them. After getting them away from myself in order to summon one of my Pokémon..." you take the moment to pull out Aegislash's Pokéball, releasing him to reveal the near-fainted Pokémon. "While Aegislash was able to harm and repel the attacker, I found it necessary to make an immediate retreat, seeing my own condition as well as their quite apparent combat ability."

Glaring slightly at Aegislash, Alberich takes a moment to assess them before responding. "This course of action is understandable, if flawed." His tone has the slightest hint of begrudging acceptance, mostly overshadowed by the all-prevalent annoyance. He then quickly looks back to you, wasting little time as usual. "Now, the description?"

Grinding your teeth for a second, you quickly give what little you can. "Around 6', wore baggy clothing on all parts of the body to prevent identification of race or gender. Would have to guess age somewhere from 18 to 28." You brace yourself, knowing that this will not be a sufficient report.

To your immense surprise, the Demise does not seem overly enraged by this. Staring at you blankly for a moment, he asks another question. "If you were to describe their demeanor and personality?"

It barely takes a moment to respond. "Cold, angry, somewhat empty. No offence sir, but if I was to make a comparison, I would say similar to you, or Agent Inferno. They carried themselves loosely, letting their head fall to one side or the other frequently, and preferring to slouch or lean to one side over standing upright." You hope that this was enough, as you couldn't think of anything else noteworthy in the endeavor.

With a last contemplative glare, Alberich speaks once more. "For failure to properly enforce the will of Team Rocket, I will punish you with no leave time. As soon as you have recovered, you will report for a new assignment, am I understood." You nod, keeping it cordial and not too eager, as that could only invoke further punishment. In response, he holds out his hand, which you quickly give your data from you mission.

Without another word, Alberich of the Black Demise leaves the room. The moment he exits, the room feels lighter and you, the doctor, and your Aegislash all seem to let out a held breath at once.