6 it is!
What the Indigo Plateau was for humans, Lavender Town was for Pokemon. For a mile in every direction, every Ghost pokemon strong enough to warrant the name patrolled, seeking a body, seeking a kill, or merely protecting that which it had failed to guard in life. Pokemon swam in the sea, hid in the grass, and took up every bit of space they possibly could. Long-suffering caretakers kept the ancient town in shape, caring for each tombstone, each house, each pokemon as best they could, providing perches for those that flew, forage for those that ran, and a caring hand or listening ear for those that required nothing else. The depths of Rock Tunnel to the north held nothing of value to the Scourge, and the bridges to the south had long since been broken away-anything to deny the Great Enemy a chance to advance.
It was to this scene that the Adeptus Biologis came, swinging censers of sweetly scented oils, chanting thrans of ingratiation and friendship, carrying with reverent unfamiliarity the Po-keballs gifted them by those from Silph.
From halfway up Pokemon Tower, a Haunter watched, communing with several of its kin.
-The adeptans are amusing humans, are they not? Instead of the order of battle we've always used, they seek to ingratiate themselves, to try for the bond of friendship before the bond of strength has been established.-
Another of its kin, nearly indistinguishable but for pose, gave a movement possibly construable as a shrug.
-And yet, their strength is evident. Even without the assistance of partners, they strike down the Scourge that desire to do no more than devour us and add us to their essence. Surely this is nothing more than an attempt to save time?-
-You have a point. Perhaps we should, indeed, talk to these friends of Mewtwo. After all, they seek their own Pokemon; better us, than a Rattata.-