The past few weeks at Pokémon Biotech had already felt like a whirlwind. Between the upcoming Victoria Show and the unveiling of eight new Pokémon, everyone was at peak excitement.
Yet Ethan spent each day with a restless mind, heading out early in the mornings to Pokémon Paradise to check on the cone trees. The seeds he had planted with meteorite-infused water were flourishing at an astounding rate some trees now stood over three meters tall, crowned with tiny protrusions on their branches. By the looks of it, they might produce special fruit sooner than anticipated.
That morning, Ethan arrived at the City's outskirts well before breakfast, anxious to see if the buds would soon form what he envisioned: an embryonic shape reminiscent of a red-and-white sphere, the first real "Poké Balls." He walked across the hillside, stepping carefully over patches of dew-covered grass. The cone trees soared above him, rustling in the dawn breeze. He couldn't help smiling.
"I wonder if they'll mature in time," he murmured, "Imagine throwing a Poké Ball in the middle of a fashion show or a heated battle. He envisioned the spectacle of his Pikachu or Charmeleon emerging from a Poké Ball to the astonishment of the world.
Finishing his inspection, he climbed back into his car. There was another stop today: the No. 2 lab. There, he intended to talk with James and the others about the trip to Japan for the Victoria show. They'd also review the eight new species coming along, plus potential outfits or staging ideas for the catwalk.
Halfway to the lab, Ethan's phone buzzed with a frantic text from a colleague. "Japan announces nuclear wastewater dumping into the Pacific check the news." Ethan's expression darkened. He flicked on the car radio, skimming stations until a reporter's urgent tone filled the speakers:
"Breaking News: Japan's government confirms it will begin dumping over a million tons of nuclear-contaminated wastewater into the Pacific Ocean within the next two days. Environmental concerns are running high, with activists protesting worldwide."
Ethan grabbed the wheel. "What?" he breathed in outrage. "They're really doing it... I was hoping it was just rumors." He shook his head at the reckless disposal. "They can't handle the waste, so they plan to dilute it in the ocean." A lump of frustration burned in his chest.
Then something unexpected happened: within his mind, his system interface flashed with an emboldened message:
World Event "Purify Sewage" triggered upon nuclear wastewater release.
Purify Sewage: Suicune has the power to purify water. The global environment may be impacted by nuclear contamination. The birth of Suicune cannot be delayed…
Ethan's foot almost slipped on the gas pedal. Suicune, one of the mythical beasts from his knowledge base, was apparently about to be unlocked. "So that's it," he muttered, stunned. "An environmental crisis triggers Suicune's gene availability in my system."
He parked in a quiet parking lot near the lab, ignoring the bustling employees hurrying inside. His mind raced. If Suicune was an advanced Water-type Pokémon with the ability to purify polluted water, then perhaps it could be the key to reversing the nuclear contamination. "This is crazy," he whispered, getting out of the car. "But if Suicune can truly purify radioactivity, it might be a ray of hope."
...
He almost sprinted into lab #2, brushing past the staff who greeted him. James caught a glimpse of Ethan's intense expression and followed him into the main breeding chamber. "You're back early. Is everything okay?" James asked, catching his breath to keep up.
Ethan nodded, though tension radiated from him. "I've got to start a new project right away something crucial. Clear out a super-large culture tank. We'll shift anything there to smaller chambers for the moment."
James blinked, but nodded. "Sure. Let's gather the team."
Moments later, a group bustled around the largest tank, hurriedly transferring the occupant tree-fruit seeds to alternative tanks. Those seeds had just started forming, but Ethan insisted on giving them no more time. If Suicune needed a giant vessel to develop, they had to comply. The staff recognized this frantic directive as typical of him, but the sense of urgency felt even heavier today.
Once the tank was emptied and refilled with fresh nutrient solution, Ethan opened his invisible system panel. A newly lit section read "Suicune Gene," describing it as a water-type with an innate power to purify pollution. The system also noted that if placed in a fluid environment, it would form faster than Mew did. Perfect, Ethan thought, scanning each detail and editing minor parameters like durability, intelligence, and loyalty.
"In you go," he whispered. With a mental command, he confirmed the extraction. The system read "Locked On," initiating the gene splicing into the lab's cells. Everyone around him witnessed the nutrient solution churn and grow faintly luminescent.
James and the rest watched with bated breath, seeing the fluid swirl at a speed surpassing typical new Pokémon creation. "Look at that absorption," said a wide-eyed researcher. "It's draining the solution at double or triple the normal rate."
Ethan nodded gravely. "We're dealing with something beyond typical. Keep an eye on it constantly. If it lives up to my expectation, we'll have a Pokémon capable of cleansing nuclear wastewater."
James took a step back, stunned. "That's… unbelievably useful. Are you telling me it can fix an environmental crisis?"
Ethan's tone was heavy. "I hope so. Japan just confirmed they're dumping nuclear wastewater. If Suicune can truly purify it, we might have a fighting chance at mitigating some damage."
The staff around them exchanged anxious glances. The conversation about the nuclear dump had circulated all morning, fostering anger and helplessness. Now they realized Ethan intended to produce a living solution to that crisis. For once, the entire room felt unified in hope.
While the massive culture tank bubbled, James took a short break and pulled Ethan aside. "You're certain this approach is feasible? Even if you birth a new Pokémon, how do we ensure it can handle something as extreme as nuclear contamination?"
Ethan rubbed his temples. "No guarantee. But I've made sure this new Pokemon has an innate purification ability. If that extends to radioactivity, we have a shot. Maybe it can't fix an entire ocean, but partial help is better than none." He paused. "We have to try. I can't just watch them pollute the seas and do nothing."
James placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "All right. We'll do our best. I'll get staff to keep a 24-hour watch on the tank. And you're right, no harm in attempting."
Around them, the swirl in the solution gradually intensified. Nutrient levels dropped faster than any Pokémon had ever consumed. The scientists present diligently recorded data, muttering about the wild metabolic rate.
Late that afternoon, after ensuring the tank was stable, Ethan called a quick meeting. "Suicune's arrival may happen more rapidly than Mew's did. Everyone, watch carefully. The moment it forms an embryo, I want a thorough check. We can't risk mistakes."
A few staff members asked if they should talk publicly about this. Ethan shook his head. "No, not yet. Let's keep it secret. If we fail, we don't want to build false hope. If we succeed… well, it'll blow the world's mind."
He parted from James and the group, ducking into a quieter hall. He recalled the mention of eight brand-new species from earlier in the week, along with the upcoming Victoria show. On top of that, the public price cut. So many monumental steps, overshadowed now by a possible nuclear crisis and the birth of a mythical Pokémon that might address it.
As he gathered his thoughts, the lab's overhead TV flickered to a news bulletin, updating that Japan had officially begun dumping nuclear wastewater. Experts worldwide voiced outrage, but it seemed unstoppable. Ethan bit his lip. "So it's begun," he murmured. "Suicune, please hurry."
Meanwhile, James stepped in with a curious question about another set of eggs that had grown rapidly. "Mr. Grave," he said, referencing a smaller cluster of newly formed cocoons. "These eggs are almost set to hatch. I have no idea what you designed."
Ethan shrugged, feigning innocence. "Oh, just a bug-type. Possibly interesting, but not a high priority right now." Secretly, he knew it was Catterpie a worm that would definitely unnerve James when it emerged, thanks to its soft-bodied appearance.
James didn't press further. "All right, but the shells are near maturity. We might see them crack in a couple days."
"Let them," Ethan said, conjuring a brief mental image of the staff squealing if a swarm of Catterpie scuttled out. He suppressed a grin. "Focus on Suicune for now."
James nodded, then left to check on the tank.
Night approached. The entire lab staff prepared for an all-nighter, dividing shifts to watch the Suicune tank. Several even brought sleeping bags, determined to gather real-time data if the embryo formed. Ethan lingered in the observation chamber, scanning the interface data. The system reported that the gene integration was proceeding at record speed, probably half the time needed for Mew.
He stepped outside, gazing at the star-studded sky above Tarvok City. A swirl of conflicting emotions churned inside him: relief that the legendary Suicune might come to fruition and heartbreak that a global nuclear hazard had forced this. "Still," he whispered, "if we succeed, we'll save countless lives, not to mention restore some faith in the promise of Pokémon."
Walking back in, he updated staff on his plan: "We'll reevaluate tomorrow morning. If Suicune's embryo stabilizes, we're on the right track. Keep me posted every hour."
A sense of quiet determination settled over them all. While the rest of the city raged about political ramifications, nuclear waste, and unstoppable international decisions, in this modest laboratory, a single gene-engineered creature might soon hold the power to mitigate the crisis. They could do nothing about the politics, but they could fight for the planet in their own unique way.
As the clock neared midnight, Ethan found himself alone by the observation window, hearing the swirl of the nutrient solution inside the giant tank. "Hurry up," he said under his breath, eyes drifting to the readouts. "The world needs you." Then he pressed the palm of his hand against the glass, a silent vow to do all in his power to help the newborn Pokémon harness its purifying gift and perhaps, at last, put an end to the devastation nuclear waste might cause.