Chapter 5: The Test of a Thousand
From her perch high above, Madame Boss looked down at the sea of desperate children, any trace of pity long since extinguished from her eyes. She turned to Miyamoto.
"Begin."
Miyamoto nodded, took out a small remote, and pressed a button. Her voice boomed across the chamber.
"The test starts now! You have one hour!"
With a low hum, the towering platform began to descend until it was level with the crowd. The Team Rocket grunts who had been guarding the children retreated to the edges of the room, their Pokémon standing by, ready to intervene once the ordeal was over.
For a full thirty seconds, there was silence. Then, a single boy broke from the pack, and the dam burst— a thousand children surged forward in a chaotic wave.
Screams and shouts filled the air. Some scrambled for the nearest eggs, while others made a desperate break for the prized starters. The initial rush became a violent, churning mass of bodies—a stampede where the weak were trampled and the desperate threw punches. The smell of fresh blood soon tainted the air. People were already dying. In a crush of a thousand frantic children, it was inevitable.
"This, Miyamoto, is the law of the jungle," Madame Boss murmured, a faint, cruel smile on her lips. "Only the strongest and the luckiest will survive."
Her sharp eyes scanned the chaos, picking out individuals of interest.
One tall, burly youth, a head taller than the rest, was shoving others aside like a miniature Machamp, heading straight for the Fighting-type eggs.
One small, agile girl used the pandemonium as cover, weaving through the crowd towards the starters.
The other, a seemingly unremarkable boy, had already gathered a small group around him, coordinating their movements.
And then there was Giovanni.
Thanks to Miyamoto's placement, he had started at the very back of the crowd, sparing him from the initial, deadly crush. He didn't have the advantage of a head start, but he had the advantage of survival.
He set his sights on the Ground-type eggs—his preferred type—and began to push his way through the dense throng, determined to claim what was his.
But then, a strange feeling prickled at the back of his neck— a powerful, undeniable instinct screamed at him that if he took another step towards the Ground-type eggs, he would regret it for the rest of his life. He felt a pull from behind him, a magnetic draw to something unseen.
Giovanni whipped his head around. His eyes landed on the far section of the platform.
Bug-type.
The feeling was coming from the Bug-type eggs. By now, even though they were unpopular, many of the eggs in that section had already been snatched up by those taking the path of least resistance.
He had to choose: trust this inexplicable feeling, or go with the safe, logical choice?
He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "I'll take the risk." He hated gambling, but this world kept forcing his hand. Sometimes, an opportunity was a whisper, not a shout.
Giovanni turned and swiftly began moving towards the Bug-type section, pushing against the main flow of the crowd. From her vantage point, Miyamoto saw his strange movement and smiled faintly. Clever boy. Now let's see if you're lucky.
The closer he got to the Bug-type eggs, the stronger the feeling became. There were at least sixty eggs still in this section. Choosing one was a massive gamble.
Giovanni was no Pokémon Breeder; he couldn't tell a thing from an egg's appearance. He had to rely on the only method he had: that strange, gut feeling.
He ignored the few other children picking through the remaining eggs and began moving down the line, placing a hand on each incubator, closing his eyes, and searching for that feeling.
His approach attracted attention. A few others began to mimic him, but one boy in particular—a tall, white-haired youth with a spiky haircut—watched him with predatory eyes. Why search randomly when you can just steal the best one? The boy figured. Let this skinny kid do the work for me.
Giovanni was oblivious, lost in his search. He moved from one incubator to the next until he reached the one in the furthest, darkest corner. The moment his fingers touched the cool metal, the feeling erupted in his chest—a powerful resonance, a sense of perfect alignment. It was like finding a missing piece of his own soul.
"Found you," Giovanni whispered, overjoyed.
He quickly hugged the incubator to his chest. This would be his first partner. The significance of the moment, for both his past life and his present one, was immense.
"Don't worry, little one," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You and me... we're going to the very top."
As if it understood, the egg inside the incubator wobbled twice. Giovanni's eyes widened in surprise. "You can understand me?"
But before he could bond any further, a harsh voice cut in from the side.
"Hey, you. Hand over the egg."
The smile on Giovanni's face vanished. He turned and saw the spiky-haired boy, Nohara, glaring at the incubator in his arms as if it were already his.
The other children nearby watched with a mixture of pity and curiosity. Giovanni was a head shorter and far scrawnier than Nohara. It seemed the egg he had so carefully chosen was about to be stolen.
But Giovanni wasn't going to let go. What was his, stayed his. He could kill a Pokémon. He could certainly kill a man. His eyes grew cold, and a faint killing intent began to emanate from him.
"Get lost."
The single, sharp command made Nohara flinch. He saw the mocking glances from the other children and his face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He was not about to lose face.
"You're dead!" he snarled, balling his fists.