Ten trainers gathered for the nightcap's trainer selection. The earlier tension had seemed to fade: after the last three matches, more trainers seemed to want to stop worrying and find someone to fight already. All had time to do ample research on all of their prospective foes, but most had skimped on actually doing this. Apart from their region mates, whom they already knew well, the trainers didn't learn much beyond possible movesets and typing: useful information, but things of little value on the individual level.
The selection came up almost at once: perhaps the scoreboard operator had recieved the signal too early, perhaps the announcers and hosts had simply grown tired of speculating. Two ex-champions were announced, one from Sinnoh, the other of Kanto, at least at the time of their victories. Red had retired soon after his victory to grow stronger in Johto's Mount Silver, while Cynthia had lost her throne in an amazing upset to the young Platinum Berlitz, sparking lurid allegations of match fixing and a lesbian sex scandal at the highest ranks of Sinnoh's Pokemon League. She had retreated to the shadows somewhat since then, using her time to study mythology and splitting her years between Sinnoh and Unova, accepting friendly matches with renowned trainers but never entering tournaments, even though she was probably stronger than the Champion. The Sinnoh Regional for the World Championship had marked her thus-far triumphant return, and she had triumphed without ever switching out her Garchomp.
Red of Pallet Town would not be this easy a foe. Cynthia would be shocked if she pulled off a sweep. But there was only one way to start a match like this, so she'd trust in the pokemon who got her here, even if it meant an obvious ice type response. "Garchomp, go!" she shouted, summoning a large blue cross between a land shark and a dragon with a red stomach and arms which resembled a Scyther's blades, yet blue and pointing backwards.
Red said nothing in response. It wasn't that he had any lack of retorts, but he was mute since birth and wasn't going to take the trouble of writing down a witty response for every slight in big bold letters. He did open a poke ball and set it on the ground, revealing a yellow rat with a thunderbolt for a tail. It was a strange choice; Pikachu didn't have the bulk to handle a Garchomp's Outrage, and Garchomp, as a ground type, was immune to Pikachu's strongest attacks.
And this unnerved Cynthia more than Red would have if he pulled out a Froslass.
The stadium which the two pokemon entered bore little resemblance to the mountain and weather combination which had served them the past three matches; for whatever reason, perhaps predictability, perhaps the feeling that it gave some pokemon too much of an advantage, the plan of a water battle had been scrapped. Instead, a series of air vents covered the ground, pushing even Garchomp into the air: Pikachu might as well have been a flying-type, except for its poor control.
"Maybe he thinks he can win because Garchomp will be in midair? But it's also a dragon type, so electricity won't do much to it anyway. I don't get this kid," Cynthia paused. She had been about to shout 'Earthquake' but even if it would have hit it was impossible to use. One couldn't exactly stomp the ground to create earthquakes while floating in midair, after all.
But she had three other attacks, and she was ready and able to use them all. As Red made an elaborate series of hand-signals to his floating, flying Pikachu in a different series from any of the ones the studious Cynthia had seen on tape, she gave her order to her Garchomp, hoping that Red hadn't already prepared a counter. "Speed Impact!"
Flying faster then sound, steering its arms like they were wings, Garchomp flew after Pikachu, but what it hit was only an illusion; Pikachu was copying itself, turning on a dime, and speeding through the air so quickly it left afterimages behind. A Pidgeot would have trouble keeping up, and the fans lacked a Pidgeot's speed and eyesight. Many turned to one another to ask if they saw the last attack: few answered in the affirmative. The chase resembled something out of a video game, and if it was then Pikachu was controlled by an expert player, its early awkwardness in the air soon left behind.
"Has his Pikachu trained for this? Is that even possible?" Cynthia muttered aloud, watching as the Pikachu turned to face Red in the chase, who tossed up another signal. Suddenly, the Pikachu stopped and pulled a surfboard out of its fur, then rode it through a raincloud and beneath the Garchomp, drenching it with a wave of water.
Cynthia sighed. It wasn't that Garchomp had taken all that much damage; on the inside it was a little wounded, but in appearance it was only a bit wet and slightly annoyed. But Pikachu – Pikachu seemed unhittable, unstoppable, too fast and small for Garchomp to hurt.
Had she chosen that moment to strike, at least according to the announcers, she could probably have defeated Pikachu in a single hit. Instead, outmatched and confused, she recalled her Garchomp to its poke ball.
"Spiritomb, your turn!" A pseudo-legendary pokemon had been recalled to be replaced with one even rarer. There were other trainers in Sinnoh who owned a Spiritomb, but the ritual to capture one required great skill, great knowledge of pokemon lore, and the help of many friends: Cynthia was one of the few trainers alive who could claim all of these. Most captive Spiritomb belonged to trainers who had skipped this ritual and instead traded for those who hatched from ghostly eggs. Her particular Spiritomb had not recently participated in organized battle, but it was far from inexperienced; she had used it plenty in friendly matches and scrimmages between her own pokemon squad, and it had battled often in her days as Champion.
In terms of types, it had no weaknesses. Maybe it was the one who could take down Pikachu.
She just hoped it wasn't out of shape.
Spiritomb soon emerged from its poke ball, a ghost of some strange beast probably never seen on this earth; purple in form, with green eyes, a green interior, and five green orbs circling around the outside of its face like a rapid, simplified facsimile of Jupiter or Saturn's moons. The air vents had little impact on its motion, perhaps because it wasn't from the world of the living anyway: it floated in place a few feet above the ground.
And no sooner did it emerge than was it struck by an enormous Thunderbolt straight from Pikachu's cheeks.
"That fast? Wait a minute... that's impossible. It would've had to have attacked..." Cynthia began muttering to herself, opening her eyes wide in realization. "before I recalled Garchomp. And there's no reason whatsoever to Thunderbolt a Garchomp. He must have had this planned from the start. Damn it. He read me like a book. I'd think he was psychic but Sabrina and Caitlin combined aren't this good."
Cynthia paused. Red smirked and made the same sign he did to Pikachu last time: given how often he changed them up, this was probably as much a taunt as a genuine signal. And while its trainer hesitated, another Thunderbolt came Spiritomb's way. "Pain Split!" she belatedly ordered the ghost pokemon; if she couldn't block the attack she could at least hurt Pikachu with it too. The Spiritomb glowed with a golden aura, absorbing the bolt, recharging its energy, and sending the pain back towards Pikachu, but the rebound looked more like a tiny spark than the vicious Thunderbolt which had struck Spiritomb.
"Right, Pikachu don't have much HP to begin with," Cynthia mused to herself: it was unnerving not having an opponent to taunt or banter with her, and she wondered if the crowd would think she was losing her mind. But soon she smiled, for she had realized that its low amount of hit points meant that Pikachu was easy to knock out, as long as she could just hit the damn rodent. "Spiritomb, Shadow Ball!"
As Red's Pikachu launched its third successive Thunderbolt – not the most creative strategy, but it was working well enough that he had no reason to change it – Spiritomb sent a large black ball Pikachu's way. The rodent weaved through the air, flying in an elaborate pattern of loops and zigzags, but the ball of shadow crept up the stands, following Pikachu like a missile, growing bigger and bigger as it approached. Red furiously signaled to his pokemon to be careful of the sun, but Pikachu's back was turned as it flew away, and it did not respond before the shadow ball leaped from the upper deck to slam into Pikachu's tail.
It was an instant KO. Pikachu fell quickly at first, then slower as it approached the enormous fans, ultimately coming to an oscillation of about ten feet off the ground, a bit higher than Spiritomb. Red silently lifted his poke ball, recalling a pokemon who had been with him nearly from the start, then plucked a ball seemingly at random to hurl it into the arena.
The creature which emerged looked like something of a mix between a Skitty and a Vulpix, but it was leaner, lavender in color, more evolved, and an Eeveelution. Its tail was forked, its ears were large, and its movements were ordinarily graceful, although not nearly as much when it was riding on air vents.
"An Espeon. Why?" Cynthia asked, although she knew her opponent couldn't answer. Was it another trick? "It's not even that Red's fighting without concern for type advantages. He's intentionally sending out pokemon to fight against their weaknesses. But why? What does this kid have up his sleeve?" she sighed. Cynthia, former champion of Sinnoh, was not one to fall for the same trick twice. "Spiritomb, Shadow Ball!"
Red smiled as if to say "I'm not falling for that one again either." Espeon, propelling itself with a pink aura of psychic energy, floated into the center of the arena, surrounded by open sky. The Shadow Ball crept up the stands, but it was unable to make the jump to hit its target and vanished into the mist.
Espeon proceeded to answer Spiritomb's attack, despite the lack of any visible sign from Red, by raising its forked tail and firing a prismatic, multicolored beam the Spiritomb's way. The ghost pokemon stood in place to take the attack, unable or too uncaring to dodge, but it was left dazed, confused, and badly injured; the thunderbolts were catching up to it.
"You need to remember why you can't beat a Spiritomb that easily. Pain Split!" Cynthia shouted, pointing to the Espeon. The Spiritomb did seem to slowly recover as it surrounded itself with a golden aura, but its foe was unfazed. Instead, Cynthia herself slumped to her knees, grabbing onto the rails of the trainer's box and screaming in pain.
Red made a series of signals to the judge, who nodded in agreement. "Spiritomb has made an illegal move and is disqualified. It is forbidden to use attacks on trainers, even your own. This isn't the wilderness or Team Rocket's hideout."
"But it was confused!" Cynthia protested, struggling to stand. "That's just adding insult to injury!" The judge shook his head, unconvinced, and a furious Cynthia recalled her Spiritomb as an X marked its picture on the scoreboard.
Cynthia paused, glancing over her four remaining poke balls – and Garchomp's, if she didn't save it for the end of the match. The way Red's pokemon maneuvered in the air, her third couldn't be someone like Milotic or Lucario; they wouldn't stand a chance. And with Red's Pikachu gone, there wasn't any good reason to shy away from the one bird on her team. "Go, Braviary!"
A giant red, white and blue eagle with golden talons and head feathers resembling the headdress of indigenous Unovans emerged from Cynthia's ultra ball, flying instinctively towards Espeon before its trainer gave a command. The psychic type looked like a thinner, lavender-furred version of Purrloin or Liepard, pokemon which Braviary naturally ate in the wild.
"Don't underestimate it, Braviary. You're up against a powerful psychic. Let's hope it can't take a Brave Bird!" Diving after the Espeon with reckless abandon, Braviary flew unhindered through its opponent's psychic waves to slice it with beak and talons alike.
Red looked up in shock, both at the strength of her new pokemon's attack, and that such a creature was now his opponent. He had never heard of Braviary before, and was even more shocked Cynthia had one; they certainly weren't native to Sinnoh, after all. He didn't think he could beat this pokemon with hand signs alone; it was too fast, maneuverable, and dangerous. Maybe Pikachu could beat it on instinct alone, but most of his team would be in serious trouble.
Luckily, he had recently branched out into psychic pokemon, and with them he could just rely on telepathy. "Espeon, Braviary is hurting itself and not just you with that attack, and there are only a few clouds in the sky – though it's getting pretty dark. It's a bit of a misnomer, but recover what energy you can: Morning Sun!" he thought to his pokemon, concentrating hard but sending no signals his opponent's way, not that anyone could read them to begin with.
Cynthia spent this time sizing up her opponent and planning her next attack, only belatedly realizing her opponent's pokemon had taken the time to recover. But two could play at this game. "Roost!" she yelled, and her Braviary perched not on the whirling fans which covered the ground, but on the ledge of the upper deck, like a giant Pidove seen up close by excited onlookers. It was careful to face forward, lest it hit the psychic shield, or worse have fans attempt to pet it in the middle of the match.
The two rejuvenated pokemon faced one another, staring intently, but Braviary did not hear Cynthia's warning of "don't make eye contact!" in time. The Braviary soon twisted its wings and talons into agonizing contortions, slapping itself as it shrieked in pain; one wondered if it had even heard the order of "Brave Bird!"
But Cynthia ordered the attack again; it wasn't as though it had done poorly the last time Braviary had pulled it off. Red smiled and ordered the same response as last time, and a series of interlocking blue waves shocked the confused bird's mind as it rammed Espeon once again in a headfirst collision.
"Braviary and Espeon are unable to battle!" Red glanced at the judge, a bit surprised by the former announcement. The sun was not bright when he had ordered its recovery and Brave Bird was a powerful attack, so he understood why no thoughts from Espeon were coming his way. As for Braviary, if he added up the many attacks which had damaged it, both Espeon's and its own, it did make a bit of sense, yet it was hovering in place like it was still flying in midair, waiting for a kill!
Only when he saw his opponent's eyes, a moment before the red light from Cynthia's poke ball absorbed the Braviary, did he realize why the judge had made his call.
"Garchomp, it's all up to you!" Cynthia shouted her words of encouragement with a mix of bravado and trepidation: it hadn't let her down yet. Maybe she could win this match after all; then again, it was in for the fight of its life. Red wouldn't let this be easy, and he knew what he was up against.
Red belatedly recalled his Espeon, the great blue shark dragon already summoned by the time he did so. There was one pokemon on his team which could actually win in this situation; Pikachu had played its share of head games, but not done all that much actual damage, so it wasn't simply a matter of not getting knocked out instantly and being able to get off that one attack which finished the job.
Unless, of course, that one attack was 4X effective.
He just didn't want to use it, not because it wasn't powerful, but because this was a pokemon more intelligent than he was, who had joined him voluntarily; half out of respect, half because he had to in order to save the world. This pokemon was not some beast who had been captured in battle or rescued from Team Rocket. Then again, it was this pokemon who had insisted on their own registration, and it deserved better than to be left in a poke ball the whole tournament.
He opened his poke ball to reveal a mutated, bipedal cross between a human being and a Mew; the genetic product of horrific experimentation intended to create an unbeatable pokemon.
"Mewtwo," Cynthia remarked, surprised. "I didn't know it had been captured."
"It hasn't," Mewtwo itself answered, beaming thoughts telepathically to the opponent's trainer's head.
"Garchomp, you can win this, don't be afraid. Swords dance!" Cynthia shouted, pointing to Mewtwo as if to call her own victory. The Garchomp turned its arms upside-down and spun rapidly from side to side, sharpening the blades on its arms and with it its entire body.
"Cynthia, I have a message from Red," Mewtwo said, and the voice communicating in her thoughts suddenly shifted – to one never spoken, for it had never had the chance to speak.
"You fought well, but you made a critical mistake at the end. Your Garchomp's Speed Impact wasn't a sure thing, but a good hit would have given it the chance to give Mewtwo a one-hit KO. I suspect it was because you forgot one thing: Mewtwo can learn Ice Beam. Checkmate."
"Garchomp, stop! Speed impact!" Cynthia shouted desperately, but it was too little, too late. No sooner had it broken out of its spin than had Mewtwo, floating lazily in midair, fired a sharp, narrow beam of ice through the pokemon's stomach: it fainted instantly.
"I... I can't believe it. I lost. And it was because I screwed up. My pokemon were excellent, but I was outplayed at every turn," Cynthia muttered, falling to her knees and letting her tears flow.
Red smiled kindly, then pointed a finger Mewtwo's way, and the pokemon telekinetically walked him into the other trainer's box. "By the way, Cynthia, you made a mistake, but not the one you think you did. Red played one last trick on you: the momentum of Swords Dance would have protected Garchomp from an ice beam, and speed impact wasn't enough for a one-hit KO."
"I didn't even forget it knew Ice Beam – I was just so shocked," Cynthia said.
"That's how the plan worked," Mewtwo added; Cynthia later swore she saw the creature smiling. She wondered just how many tricks had Red and Mewtwo cooked up on her for this match? They probably had ten planned for every one he actually used.
"So the one time Red spoke..." Cynthia muttered as her opponent gave her a helping hand up, still trying to comprehend her conqueror. She was answered with a quick handwritten message on a pad of paper, written by a pen which moved with the speed of an expert computer typist.
"was a trick I played to win the toughest battle of my life. I'm usually a lot more straightforward when I battle. Good game, Cynthia. You're an amazing trainer."
And then, still undefeated, Red of Pallet Town exited the arena without another word.