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Seneste Industries grows larger at every day while other business owners shiver in their blankets, hoping their stocks - and managers - are not the next assimilation target. In stock markets, only SNI assets can realistically be profited from, as every other curve is cursed to plunge in a red abyss. Inflatable Liepards are not known for respect towards the ecosystem, park rangers and environmental scientists being fired en masse every day to instead break their backs installing gigantic hydrocarbon pipelines scorching the forests and glaciers with toxic, synthetic fuels.

While these employees paint the purple-and-gold Seneste emblem onto the steel, an intruder scours through the chemical flow, swimming up the current with his thick fish tail. Indrix the Vaporeon takes a deep breath from his water tank, letting the oxygen filter through his gills - the feeling, while comforting, reminds the spy of his dwindling life support. Neon red arrows glow on monitors, partially distorted by the volume of liquid hexane separating the swimmer from these pixelated signposts. Indrix can easily imagine the withered trees and intoxicated fauna dying beyond the borders of this suffocating labyrinth - in this moment, the Vaporeon is there for each and every single one of them, fighting for those who cannot fend for themselves. As the leader of the Green Enlightenment underground activist group, it was his duty to favour death over letting another natural sanctuary fall into Seneste's puffy pressurized paws.

A tail-slap followed by an agile dash rockets Indrix upwards into an air pocket at the intersection of four orthogonal dark sewer-like hallways. The Vaporeon paws at his satchel, and pulls out a small black box, shaking it to check the viral cyberinjector inside was still secured after such a toilsome traverse. The revolutionary remembered that day he clutched the strange device between his pads, his eyes tearing up as he read the letter from the anonymous supporter who had given him this tool to finally deliver a powerful blow to Seneste's greedy machinations.

Indrix pulls up his front paws to haul himself up on the basin's ridge, but slips in a thunderous splash as a foreboding squeak resonates from the southern hallway. The Vaporeon ducks under the combustible's surface, drawing the last reserves from his aqua-respirator, and hoping his panic to have gone unheard - but the sound of creaking, deliberate paw-steps growing in volume supports the opposite. The whimsical, rubbery tone of the noise does not undersell in any way the sheer mass supported by those billowy yellow paws. The daunting rhythm ends in a deafening squeak of inflated vinyl as Seneste trails and shuffles her puffy digits across the rusty floor, taunting her pray.

Right above the calm surface of the translucent fluid looms a towering Liepard, her devious pointy smile presented directly to the terrorized little Vaporeon cowering underneath ten centimetres of flammable fuel. Indrix strains his gills trying to squeeze the last specks of oxygenated water from his tanks, but he only sees the world twist and turn as suffocation begins to make his body beg for liberation from this chemical trap. His survival instinct forces him to raise his head out of the pool to take a deep breath, knocking his muzzle right onto Seneste's evil grin. Without a word, the Liepard pooltoy slams down the tiny Intruder back into the hexane solution, knocking off the Vaporeon's mask with her surge of force. Indrix's gasp leads him to swallow a glob of fuel, his system already absorbing the toxic constituants as he coughs and squirms underneath the pressure exerted by the feline manager. A swish of his tail attempts to launch his body back into the buffet of oxygen above, but before the eeveelution's lungs can even fill themselves to a tenth of their capacity, Seneste's inflated rear collapses onto the drowning critter's body, sending another surge of poison through the Vaporeon's capillaries. Indrix's little heart beats at a frenetic, uneven rhythm as his mind reels in fear, the pumping blood accelerating the spread of hexane compounds across his organs. Drowsiness has already started to overtake the Pokemon, his eyes swirling before the red arrows scattered down the dark shaft below.

The monitors seem to dance with interconnected rings, showing rising and descending graphs, the figures collapsing in and out of focus to Indrix's overloaded brain. One last speck of willpower incites him to turn his gaze upwards away from the hypnotizing constellation of red, only to be met with the bottom of a puffy, feminine paw pushing down his snout into chemical oblivion. Yellow and purple dance in Indrix's vision, the memories of his mission fading away as he loses himself in those rubbery pads condemning him to his doom, so majestic and symmetrical compared to his imperfect, fleshy design. Defeated, high on hydrocarbons and his willpower crushed underneath pressurized vinyl, the Vaporeon allows himself to float down the shaft. They say the last thing a dying creature sees are the many memories they forged throughout their life - though Indrix does not see the wounded wild Pokemon he healed, the podiums on which he stood delivering environmental awareness speeches, nor the heroic moment where he snuck into a Seneste Greenhouses complex to replace the herbicide in the tanks with water. Instead, he sees the safari trips where those wild animals were shot, he sees the cameras through which some unruly Vaporeon was monitored, and he sees the hijacked tanks be thrown into a trash compactor while the real tanks, hidden behind a fake wall, are hauled onto the Seneste Aeronautics delivery plane.

In each and every single one of those visions, looking down reveals not the fuzzy blue limbs of a Vaporeon, but rather the glossy, reflective pressurized paws of a Liepard pooltoy. Seneste recalls more and more of her memories - that time she commanded her engineers to design a miniature GPS tracker beacon, which she hid into a black box and sent to some hippie organization with an anonymous letter promising a great victory over Seneste Industries with a revolutionary viral cyberinjector. She could have just sent her corporate militia to raze this little Vaporeon's play-pretend "headquarters", though she judged more fun to give that brat the honor of being defeated by her directly.

The Vaporeon's body inflates with polluting hydrocarbons swarming his arteries, soon to be chemically rearranged into vinyl. His body takes on a form utterly identical to the Liepard pooltoy who sent him down into this intoxicating abyss, her assets growing puffy and feminine as the new Seneste now nearly takes up the shaft's entire width with her towering stature.

Her mind clears, the hexane surrounding her losing its connotation as a polluting, toxic liquid to be removed at all costs, but rather the precious fuel on which many of her industries are dependent. The CEO's air-filled body rockets upwards by flotation, shooting out of the pool in a graceful flip, then landing perfectly on her yellow paws in a resonating squeak of inflated polymer fabric. Gazing at the pipeline entrance with her deep green eyes emblazoned on her vinyl skin, Seneste compliments herself on another job well done. It was the fifth activist this week she had needed to deal with. This one, at the very least, held a somewhat interesting sum of money in his organization's treasury - now that she knew the access passwords following another successful assimilation, Seneste judged the addition of a few million credits in her already overflowing Seneste Banks account to be a worthwhile use of her time.

The Liepard departs towards her personal office, a few left turns away from the southern aisle. She knew the layout of each of her facilities by heart now, having overseen herself the industrial engineering councils in order to maximize worker efficiency. Her squeaking paw-steps echo throughout the rusty tunnels, announcing her passage to the nearby employees. The sounds of drilling, spraying and hammering hasten every time she approaches a worker squad, and simply turning her gaze - and with it, her dastardly grin - towards one of her henchmen suffices to overload their muscles as they rub, wipe and screw at painful speed beyond their strength and endurance. A particularly devout Cinccino begins wiping the soot off the grate to which he was assigned with his own fur, soiling his gray, fuzzy body in muck. Amused, Seneste approches the zealous Pokemon, ensuring her toothy, puffed up grin remains fixated on the little worker-speck 7 feet below her inflated muzzle. The Cinccino whimpers, his fur rustling with anguish, while the pooltoy manager descends her left front paw onto the squirming subordinate, as if about to step on him. She stops a hair's length above the filthy chinchilla, creaks resounding through the tunnel as she shifts her stance to keep her balance.

Then, it begins. The tickles.

Vinyl barely brushes against the surface of the Cinccino's fur as Seneste completes imaginary circles over the low-ranking employee's exposed belly. The Pokemon alternates between cries of mercy and unstoppable laughter as he rolls, writhes and spins all over the metal grate. Seneste leans down further onto her victim, ensuring his entire view is filled by nothing else but the omnipresent white of the teeth emblazoned on her artificial maw. The tickling accelerates, until the Cinccino's features dissolve in the sheer speed of his rotation.

The grate yields under the kinetic force, ending the tickling torture with a loud splash. The abused subordinate spits out the hexane from his throat, his skin still quaking at the anxiety of having to endure the contact with Seneste's paw for a single additional second.

The Liepard tormentor has already regained her looming stance. Her facial features remain unmoving, as sly and devious as ever.

"You're fired," she announces.

The Cinccino's head, poking out of the broken grate, bobs back and forth in dismay.

"W-why?" he stutters.

As her only response, Seneste lowers her rear onto her former employee, forcing him to duck down the shaft to avoid being smothered between two rubbery cheeks - each one as large as his entire body. The Pokemon's ears hurt as a cacophony of creaks grinds against the metal, the Liepard's wet synthetic skin tripling the volume of this sonic assault. Mercifully, The pipeline current washes the Cincinno away from the site of his humiliation, carrying him across the tunnels to an unknown direction. When the terrified and distraught critter finally emerges into the sunlight, it is in a refuelling station of the Seneste Metro, very far away from home, his career shattered by Seneste's whim, and his family without news of his misadventure. He would be found the following days begging on the floor of the Station Terminus between the yellow and purple lines, harassing each passerby for enough cash to return home. Many Pokemon tell him to get a job - an impossible venture, considering Seneste's monopoly on labour, from which he was now blacklisted.

The pooltoy manager, who had already banished the Cinccino's existence from her mind, shuffles back to all fours, and continues marching along to her office, the employees as productive as ever.

The Liepard finally arrives to the security check hallway - a simple 100 meter corridor flooded with VX nerve agent - the extremely toxic gas remaining utterly harmless to her synthetic body. Pushing the purple and yellow door places the C.E.O. back in her personal apartments, pleasantly decorated with various framed pictures showcasing some of Seneste's proudest moments in her ascension to financial domination of all her former competitors. An ornate bookshelf a few paw-strides across the gold-threaded carpet showcases a variety of fascinating titles, such as:

Senestian Influences on Modern Culture, by Seneste, senior researcher in sociology

Physiology of vinyl-based organisms, by Dr. Seneste PhD in xenobiology

Senestosexuality: a teen's guide to coming out, by Seneste, renowned sexologist

The Environmental Delusion, by Seneste, world-class leading ecologist

Failure is Unacceptable - the Seneste mindset, by Seneste, self-made entrepreneur

Advanced Senestian Economics Vol. III, by Seneste, rated number one financial analyst in the world by popular vote

Glancing over her literary pedigree, Seneste remembers writing each and every single one of these bestsellers, many of which were started and finished in the same day. Chapter One may have been written in the Seneste Cinema office, Chapter Two, while sitting on the fountain next to the Seneste Monument - in the end, all chapters were written simultaneously, self-posted on her Seneste Network account, then compiled together and sent to Seneste Editions a day after the idea of writing a new book had appeared in the Liepard's mind.

The inflatable manager stops in front of her computer, plugging the air current microsensor into the white air valve on the side of her belly. The monitor was devoid of a keyboard or a mouse - only by the careful release of air pressure into the sensor could the machine be controlled. The thought of that Vaporeon desperately blowing in the cable in his pitiful hacking attempt amuses Seneste for a moment, wondering if she should had waited a bit longer before converting him for her entertainment. The thought of seeing a corpse in her security hallway quickly confirms she made the right choice after all.

The pooltoy Liepard commands her browser to go to the Interconnect Media Service, an almost defunct website for online messaging with only a few dozen users left, everyone else having migrated to Seneste Network a long time ago. She enters Indrix's credentials, the welcome message greeting her with a profile picture featuring a jolly-looking Vaporeon.

Indrix Vaporeon

founder and leader of Green Enlightement

Motto: Together, we can defeat Seneste!

About me: It was my mother Anasta Vaporeon who showed me the beauty of nature when I was only a little kit. She spoke of the trees, the birds and their many unique songs, teaching me to respect the ecosystem as if it was my life, as I was part of it, and it, too, was part of me. Growing up to see the rise of rampant industrialization shook me to my core - I saw the parks and groves in which I used to socialize with wild Pokemon be torn away by metal giants, with no respect or mercy towards the peaceful, local inhabitants. It was then that I decided to...

Seneste stops reading, bored out of her mind. This complete nobody's parents had long been assimilated, which had allowed her to personally supervise the Seneste Energy auxiliary power plant rather than having untrustworthy underlings be tasked with surveillance. The rest is just a textbook sob story as one could have found in the ancients books that once populated the libraries, now accumulating dust in the Seneste Museum while the Liepard's personal writings have to be restocked each day in the Seneste Bookstore.

Cutting to the chase, a few carefully placed jets of air coming from the pooltoy's valve orders the computer to open a conversation with Tanya Oricorio, chief treasurer of Green Enlightenment.

Indrix Vaporeon: I got into Seneste's office, but the cyberinjector we were given was a trap - it gave Seneste the credentials to access our organization bank account. You need to send ALL funds ASAP to my personal account before we're drained dry. I'm so close to victory, and we'll need this money to contact the media after I've exposed the working conditions of employees working under Seneste.

Tanya Oricorio is typing...

Seneste's grin, to the very perceptive, would have appeared to have widened by an additional millimetre. Amused by the smiling Vaporeon profile picture which accompanied her message, she recalls the pleasant memory of drowning that hapless eeveelution in Vat 64B.

Yes. Assimilating him right there truly was the correct choice.

Tanya Oricorio: Great work! We're all cheering for you back here at the HQ! I went ahead and completed the transfer. Let me know if we can do anything else to help you!

To respond to the treasurer's message, Seneste leans in to her computer camera, and takes a picture of her grin covering the entire screen. She saves the image as "thanks.png", then sends it to Tanya. Before the Oricorio even responds, the Liepard closes the application, then logs into Indrix Vaporeon's Seneste Banks account. Between a few meaningless transfers of a dozen credits lies what she had been looking for - six million credits freshly deposited in the eeveelution's account from an anonymous source. Without hesitation, Seneste opens the form to deposit every single one of Indrix's credits into her personal account. This extremely suspicious transaction trips the security AI, but it is quickly pacified upon noticing the funds are being directed to a very specific Liepard - who also happens to be its creator.

This entire ordeal had only managed to add a droplet onto Seneste's ocean of wealth, but she valued the amusement of destroying her adversaries more than the actual gains. Logging into her personal account, Seneste's paws shuffle and creak in pride as the twelve digit total balance appears at the bottom of a transaction table refreshing every millisecond with constant gains. That six million had already been washed a few hundred entries away.

To celebrate her victory, the C.E.O. opens the Seneste Network application, and adds the picture of her grin to her public posting feed. In a few seconds, a few thousand likes have already been accumulated, and around a hundred comments all beg for interviews with her, hints for financial success, or simply for her to acknowledge their presence. In a whim of kindness, Seneste replies with an animated sticker in her image to the account of some random Fennekin, causing an extra hundred comments to pile up underneath her reply envying the user's luck.

Satisfied with her day, Seneste shuffles away from the computer, and sits her puffy rear onto her pristine 4 million credit carpet, gazing up into the massive frame orating the room, filled in with a self-portrait and a border of alternating amethysts and gold nuggets. She admires her green eyes partially hidden underneath half-closed eyebrows, her perfectly coloured palette, and most importantly, that grin.

A true symbol of self-confidence and success, it was.