Ascension

ACT TWO - DUST OF DREAMS

Chapter 9 - Enter The Dragon

The colossal creature in front of him was colored a deep orange, with a cream-white underbelly tapering into a long, serpentine tail. Two large, bony horns emerged from its head, resting on arms as bulky as fully grown tauros. A deep furrow bisected its snout, running from its left eye to its chin— something that only added to its terrifying and awesome stature.

This was a monster amongst monsters. A veritable giant in the world of pokémon.

"Red, meet Dragonite."

Eight-year-old Red Ketchum stared at the behemoth, his eyes filled with wonder and a healthy bit of fear. The creature's eyes were half-lidded, uncaring of the new human standing in front of it.

"She's my strongest."

"Stronger than Orca?" Red gaped at the outlandish claim. The old man had started his journey with a growlithe, an everyday pokemon which had, over the years, grown to become the terrifying leader of the Professor's entire team and ranch. Orca was fully capable of frightening a nidoking herd into obedience with a single roar.

In Red's mind, Orca was the exemplar of power. So, what then did that make this pokémon? The old man had just said that it was even stronger? Was that even possible? He barely knew anything about them.

"Are you sure that Drawgon— Draagont—

A scowl marred his young features.

"Drago," he declared.

Oak tilted his head to the right, a quizzical expression in his face.

"Drago," the eight-year-old repeated. "Are you sure that Drago is stronger than Orca?"

The giant dragon's left eye twitched.

"I doubt Dragonite here would prefer her name shortened," Oak offered.

"Dragon— Dragonite," Red forced, "is such a mouthful. And it's long and sucks to keep saying over and over. Drago's an improvement." His hands on his hips, he met the old professor's gaze proudly, as if he'd accomplished a feat of note. "Drago'll thank me when she's older."

The dragon's eye twitched again.

The old man chuckled. "I think Dragonite would have liked it if you asked for her opinion in the naming process."

Red frowned, before turning back to the dragon. "Do you like Gon better?"

Another twitch.

"Either way," Oak interrupted, gently patting the resting dragonite. "I thought I'd introduce you to her today."

"Oh." Red paused briefly, before moving towards the dragon. "I'm Red. Nice to meet you."

He grinned exuberantly and raised his hands towards the beast's snout.

And was promptly ignored in the process.

"Hey! If you're gonna be like that, I'm not gonna visit you again."

"I don't think that's possible, Red," the professor chuckled. "After all, you're going to take care of her starting today."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," Oak stared at him pointedly. "Now that you've learned to take care of smaller pokémon at the ranch, it's time you move on to bigger ones."

Red thought of the pineco and rattata in the forest. Of the nidorino and the bulbasaur he helped rear.

Then he looked back at the behemoth in front of him. Its snout alone was bigger than he was.

"Your job will be to clean after her, and bathe her every day."

Red looked at the old man disbelievingly. It was huge! He'd probably need a blastoise or something to wash it.

"Think of it as a promotion."

"But how do I even—"

"There's no need to thank me."

Red stared at the old man. That tone was familiar. Very familiar. In fact, he had heard the old man speak exactly like that when his mother had yelled at him for—

"This is for rushing in with the ponyta, isn't it?" he accused.

Three days ago, a group of poachers had broken into the ranch and managed to make off with a couple of bulbasaur. Being the responsible caretaker he was, Red had rushed after them on a ponyta, completely confident in his ability to subdue them. Unfortunately, right before their epic battle in which Red would have totally destroyed them, Kaz popped in and did his psychic things, taking them out.

Red huffed. Talk about anticlimactic.

"Why ever would you think that, Red," Oak commented, raising his chin as if the very notion was frivolous to the point of absurdity.

Before he could voice his opinions about the man's comment, the dragon let out a complaining mewl.

"Come now," Oak chided, his calloused hands rubbing against the dragon's hide. "Red is young, but he's willing to learn. I'm sure he'll take excellent care of you from now on."

Said dragon sniffed disdainfully at Red before looking away.

Red scowled. He hated it when the pokémon at the ranch looked down at him. He was just small because he was young. He'd show this— this Drago that he was perfectly capable of taking care of her.

"Don't look down on me," Red told the dragon seriously. "I'm actually very capable."

In answer, the dragon raised her long neck, before proceeding to physically look down on him.

"You…" he fumed. "Just you wait," Red brandished a finger at her. "I'll take care of you so well that you'll have to wipe that smug look off your face."

Instead of cowering at his words like she rightfully should have, the dragonite pointed her snout towards him and blew out lukewarm, grayish fumes, sending him into a coughing fit.

"I see you're getting along famously," Oak declared. "Then it's decided. Red will take care of you from now on."

From that day onward, Red would tell anyone willing to listen that he had, in fact, seen a dragonite pout.

"Drago…" Red breathed, staring at the orange behemoth above him. Massive streams of sand blew around him in the wake of its descent, and yet its wings remained unmoving.

As a child, that had always been amusing to him. After all, if you did not use your wings to fly, then why have them? For a creature that large, its wings were vestigial— a remnant of a dragonair's fins that survived evolution.

For what need were wings when the very air obeyed your every whim?

Dragonite did not flap their wings, for they had no reason too.

And then Drago descended, the mountaintop itself trembling as her massive hindlimbs touched down upon the cliff.

A spectator might have thought it a primal show of power, perhaps a dragon's intrinsic desire to showcase its dominance to all those in its presence.

Those people would be wrong.

Red had seen Drago, had taken care of her for several years, and therefore knew better.

The powerful descent, the shaking of the land, the cracks that emerged beneath her feet— it was no show of power or dominance. Those were simply unintentional consequences of its landing.

A shadow loomed over him— Drago's massive frame blocking out the sun as she approached him. Her long neck bowed down until her fuming nostrils were just above his face.

And then, a long, lavenderish tongue swept out of her maw and licked him.

Red laughed good-naturedly. "It's nice to see you too, Drago."

Drago snorted, releasing a gust of warm air over his face.

"And the daily ritual is complete," Oak commented with a chuckle.

Red scratched the dragon's face, right beside her nostrils, with his fingers. Drago snorted again before bending lower to allow him to reach further back. For all her posturing, Drago was a big softie once you got to know her.

"It's been a while, hasn't it," he asked softly. "Have you been well? How's the baby—"

Red stilled.

"Baby," he croaked again, before twisting his neck towards Oak. "The new dragon… You're giving me her baby?"

Oak had a satisfied grin on his face. "Very perceptive, as always."

Drago had birthed a baby three months before his... incident with the pikachu. He knew for a fact that the dratini-line mostly reproduced during the dragonair stage, finding it supremely difficult to procreate upon further evolution. A consequence of their changing physiology, the books had said.

Weirdly enough, it was these rare offsprings, bred from the womb of a mamma dragonite that went on to become dragonite of their own in time, usually even stronger than the previous generation. The ones bred from dragonair, on the other hand, simply stopped evolving after their first evolution.

They just stayed dragonair.

It was a strange twist of nature, though it did explain why despite there being a significant dratini population in the world, the number of dragonite could be counted on one hand. In fact, apart from the Wataru, Samuel Oak was the only person in all of Kanto who could boast having a dragonite under his command.

Naturally, mother dragonite were obsessed with their babies— dangerously so. Whenever one of them managed to give birth, that is.

And Drago was no exception.

Red had seen the mother dragon's disposition constantly shift between the casual behemoth that ignored everything and a nigh obsessive mother that panicked at the baby's every movement. Oak had assigned a special group of people to take care of the pregnant mother, so Red hadn't been around her for quite some time.

And so, for Drago to come all the way here, with her baby in tow...

It was humbling.

"You want me to take care of your baby?" he asked, just to be sure. "You know I'm just a—"

"Actually, she isn't giving you anything, Red."

"...Huh?"

"You see Drago here," the man lazily gestured towards the colossal behemoth, "like all mother dragons, needs to let her baby go. Let it fend for itself, to fight, survive, and become stronger."

"But it's barely a year old! It should be staying with its mother. Not out with— well, you know, me."

"For someone who was so eager to purchase a dragon, you seem to be too willing to throw this opportunity away."

"I'm not," Red refuted. "But training a rookie pokémon and raising a baby are two different things, professor."

Drago snorted.

"What?"

The professor shook his head, an appreciative smile adorning his face. "You've got your heart in the right place, Red, but in this case, your information is wrong."

"How?"

"The dragon way of raising a child is... different. They believe in throwing the baby into an obstacle-filled environment so that it can overcome them, gaining strength in the process."

"That— Is that why you always find them in such dangerous environments?"

"Very good," the old man beamed. "Most dratini are found in significantly extreme regions, even in the wild. Deep-sea caves, marshlands, swamps, mountains… places that are a challenge to survive in themselves."

"So that's why you want me to train the baby." Red paused, suddenly feeling affronted. "Wait, so you're saying that I'm a dangerous environment?"

Oak laughed at that. "More so, I think it's that the trainer experience provides an environment of battle while still safer than being tossed into the wilderness. Furthermore, dragonite are a lot more protective of their young than dragonair and usually end up secretly trying to follow their young." The old man reflexively winced.

"Bad experience?" Red asked.

"...I don't want to talk about it. Anyway, you've already had a lot of experience with Drago. And, as you've shown with Mawile, you are able to bring out the strength of a pokémon, no matter its stature."

Mawile growled at him.

"...No offense intended."

Red slowly nodded his head even as he picked Mawile up. While she was trying to appear fine, Red could tell she was feeling agitated.

Gently stroking her head, Red considered Oak's proposal. The man's faith in him was both humbling and, at the same time, like a massive weight laid upon his shoulders.

Gazing upward, he met the man's eyes. "Alright. So now what?"

"Drago came here for a reason. To test you. To see if you have what it takes."

"I… see."

He didn't.

It was absurd. There was no way he would be able to put up an even remotely decent fight against her, even with preparation. Even if Mia could magically learn how to focus and control her power perfectly, she'd be lucky to last five seconds.

That was how strong Drago was.

A creature that could outswim a gyarados in its ocean.

An aerial master that could fly circles around a pidgeot.

A behemoth that ruled over any terrain it stood foot in by virtue of its mere presence.

So fighting it head on was simply out of question, since such a thing would only result in failure. And there was no way that Drago did not know that herself. So what was it that she wanted Red to prove?

What am I missing here?

"All right," he gave in. "What do I need to do?"

Oak smiled. "It's simple. I'll be standing right there, with Dratini right next to me."

He pointed at the opposite side of the cliff some several hundred feet away.

"Your job is to come and get her from me."

"From you?" Red snorted. "Aren't you a bit… old for a fistfight?"

The professor laughed. "I'm not going to fight you, Red. All you need is to walk up to me, and I'll give her to you."

"...So what's the catch?"

"The catch, is that you'll need to get past her." He gestured towards the dragon.

"Her?" Red stepped back. "You want me to face Drago? A Champion-tier dragonite? Are you insane?"

"Why yes, I do. And no, I don't believe I am," Oak chuckled. "You are allowed to use everything at your disposal. Nothing is off-limits. All you have to do… is get past her and take this dratini," he smiled, somehow making the benign gesture seem incomparably malicious, "from me."

"Will that be all? You sure you don't want me to sing her a lullaby as well?"

"That would be appreciated, but otherwise unnecessary."

Red suppressed the urge to facepalm. This was a big opportunity—big with a capital B— the likes of which he would probably never get again. Sure, he could spend some cash and buy a dratini, but it would end up a dragonair at best, not a dragonite.

Furthermore, this was the descendent of Oak's dragonite.

The value of something like that couldn't even be measured with money.

This dratini in question was currently twisting and turning and doing somersaults in the air without a care in the world.

All that stood between him and her was a single, impossibly difficult test.

The question was— could he do it?

He glanced at Drago, who was staring at him, a strange gleam in her eyes. An expression that felt alien to him, and yet also strangely familiar. For it was the same expression he had seen when meeting her for the first time, for a different, yet also impossibly difficult challenge.

One that was accepted head-on by an impudent, eight-year-old.

And then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, at the sheer absurdity of it all. As his chuckles petered out, Red met the dragon's eyes squarely.

"All these years, and you still don't know better, do you?"

The dragon raised its head, giving him a calculative stare.

"So be it." Red stepped forward. "And stop looking down on me like that." He raised a finger, "I'll show you, just like before. I'll win this test, and I'll prove my worth. Don't be too sad when you lose though. Your baby will be in good hands."

Instead of actually taking his declaration seriously and shivering in fear of another loss as she should have, the ignorant dragon breathed another torrent of fumes towards his face and chortled.

Mawile was terrified.

She really should have seen this coming. The return of the Oak person in Pewter was the first omen. The arrival of Red's mother and the Mia pokémon was the second.

It was only thanks to her innate talents that Mawile still managed to maintain her hold on Red's life.

In hindsight, it was obvious that everything was about to go wrong. Mawile had simply been too distracted to see it.

And now, she was facing the consequences— consequences that had taken the form of a massive dragon, one so large that it could probably kill her if it stepped on her by mistake. And on top of that, it turned out that Red and the dragon were old acquaintances of sorts.

And now it wanted Red to take care of her baby. As if he didn't have better things to do.

Like taking care of Mawile and cuddling her and buying her poképuffs.

And that was just off the top of her head. If she actually had time to think, Mawile could have come up with a thousand things that Red would rather do than take care of a baby.

So yes. Mawile was unhappy about the whole thing.

And if that wasn't an outrageous demand in and of itself, they were actually adding conditions to the chore. The dragon, in its infinite arrogance, wanted to see if Red— her Red— was actually capable of taking care of the baby in the first place.

That was like a poképuffs jar wondering if Mawile would throw it away after she went to all the trouble of acquiring it.

Naturally, Red— being the dopey person he was— fell for the scam, making a grand proclamation about proving his worth or some other nonsense.

And now, she would have to face the wrath of this monstrosity for Red.

She glared at the Oak human.

Sinister indeed.

"Okay…" Red exhaled. "Okay, I can do this."

He had been given some time alone with his team for his 'customary pep-talk', not that he thought it would help. Skarmory would just give him a bored stare, waiting for him to finish and Growlithe always looked as if he was expecting to be attacked. Mia would get bored within the first 20 seconds, and Mawile— well, Mawile would pay attention as long as she was bribed with poképuffs.

And the less said about Shellder, the better.

The only one that would pay attention was Scyther, who was probably the most well-behaved member of his team. Ironic, because Scyther had actually attacked him back in Viridian Forest.

"Wile?"

Red looked at the five expectant faces and Shellder, who was being… well, Shellder, and exhaled. Again.

"Okay, I'm not sure how to say this… well, encouragingly, but this is likely the strongest opponent you will ever face. Drago is powerful beyond imagination."

Skarmory tilted her head to the side as she stared at him approvingly of all things. Despite his words, she looked almost eager to fight.

Mawile, on the other hand, flinched, and did so quite prominently. She was looking distinctly unhappy about the whole situation.

"For me, this is a chance of a lifetime. I may never get another opportunity to raise a dragon with this much potential, and Mawile," —another flinch— "knows just how much I've wanted one on my team."

Scyther gave him an odd look here. He could see a mix of uncertainty, resolution, and a healthy bout of fear in the bug's eyes. Scyther would not step away from the fight, but he obviously recognized that the odds were not in his favor.

Red approved.

"But I'm not willing to make all of you fight her."

His entire team stared at him blankly.

He crouched lower and caressed the lavender tuft of fur on Growlithe's head. The puppy looked at him, his expression wide-eyed.

"You heard me," Red promised. "This… battle is going to be difficult. I promised to take care of you, and I'm not breaking that for anything. You're strong, but you still have a lot to grow before you can face something on Drago's level. Mawile—"

The fairy in question fidgeted.

"Mawile," Red repeated, turning towards his starter with a soft expression. She was doing her best to put on a brave face, to keep up appearances for his sake. "When we started our journey, I know I told you that I wanted to make you fight dragons. But I had never been in a real battle back then, had never realized just how difficult such a fight would be. What's more, I didn't understand just how… personal watching you guys fight and get hurt was." Red chuckled mirthlessly. "I was an impulsive fool."

Taking a moment to compose himself, Red reached over to Mawile and gently stroked her head.

"Mawile… this battle is not for you."

Mawile looked at him, relief and slight anger warring on her face. The latter presumably because of his implication that she was weak and thus unable to contribute.

"Wile!" she began angrily. "Mawawa—"

"Don't be mad at me," Red continued to stroke her head, just the way he knew she enjoyed it. "I'm not saying you're weak. In fact, I'm the one being selfish here."

Mawile looked confused at his statement.

"Watching this battle will be good for you. You've come up with lots of interesting tactics on the spot." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What I want you to do is observe how Drago fights. Learn from it, and come up with strategies to fight them in the future. For now, let the others fight." He caressed the fairy's cheek. "Will you do that for me?"

Mawile looked like she wanted to argue, though she ended saying nothing. After a long pause, she nodded.

"Thanks," Red gave her a lop-sided grin. "And, someone has to take care of Shellder and Growlithe while I'm busy, right?"

The look of betrayal that Growlithe sent him must have been a figment of his imagination. Nothing else.

He stood up, gazing at the remaining members of his team— Skarmory, Scyther and Mia. "As I said, I'm not going to make any of you fight this battle, but I really want that dratini to join our team." His eyes glinted, "Will you fight with me?"

Skarmory screeched loudly and Scyther made a buzzing sound that Red hoped was acknowledgment. And from Mia came a wave of comfort and the knowledge. A promise that no matter what he would face, she would stand by him.

This human is crazy.

Growlithe witnessed Red and his little army proceed towards the behemoth. Of course, seeing the ever-graceful Mia join him had instinctively bothered him, but he knew better. Regardless of her outer delicateness, the fairy was an absolute monster, the likes of which Growlithe wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

Well, maybe on the white-coats, but that was neither here nor there.

He saw Red whisper something to Scyther and Skarmory, both of whom screeched before taking off to their respective places. That is to say— the bug took an offensive position in front of Red while the bird took to the air, ready to hurl attacks from its favored element. The Mia fairy just hovered beside Red for no apparent reason.

The human took a step forward.

"And so it begins," the other human— Oak something —said from the other side. "Dragonite, why don't you scare them a bit, before you start."

Scare them? Growlithe wondered.

Did the old man think they weren't already scared? The dragon was terrifying all on its own, but Growlithe had a sort of morbid desire to see what the dragon looked like when it was actively trying to scare something.

Dragonite stepped right in front of Red, its maw open and ready to emit all kinds of things that were extremely good at making Red and his compatriots very dead in multiple ways.

It raised one leg as high as it could, and stomped.

The entire terrain groaned as ridges and furrows surged out in all directions, raising rock and dirt into the air as a powerful seismic wave tore through the ground. Every single thing in its path was either blown away or shredded to pieces by the sheer outward pressure.

Growlithe had seen the rhydon perform something similar back at the gym place, but comparing that to this would be likening an ember to an inferno.

Afraid to see his trainer and Mia perish in the approaching gust of rock and sand, Growlithe shut his eyes.

…

…

When he opened them a moment later, neither Red nor Mia were there. They were— they were—

Growlithe looked around.

"Up there!" Mawile pointed upward.

"...?" The puppy blinked in surprise. Just how did that happen?

Several feet above the ground and completely safe from the attack were Red and Mia. Both of them were… floating?

Growlithe blinked and then shook his head.

Nope. Still floating. What the hell was going on?

"THERRR!"

Something incredibly fast had slammed into the dragonite, clashing head-on with its large claws. The scyther slammed its scythes against the dragon's massive arm.

Nothing happened.

Every slash or stab slid off of its scales, and scyther was simply thrown off with a flex of its muscles or a casual swipe of its hand. And the entire time, the dragonite's maw was just within reach. Just a little lower and it could have torn the bug's head right off.

Yet it did nothing.

It's toying with him, Growlithe realized. Toying with the fastest thing he had ever seen till date. Was this what Red had referred to as the real monsters out there? Was this what pokémon could become by training with humans?

Scyther screeched, possibly in frustration, and went even faster.

The dragonite met it on even grounds— speeding up just enough to match the scyther's speed, and yet careful not to overwhelm it with its own.

Black tendrils of dark energy began to accumulate on Scyther's blades, before he screeched and lunged forwards, his scythes streaking towards the dragonite's neck.

CLANG!

It did not even manage to penetrate its skin.

With the sound of a roaring gale, a massive orange tail swerved its way from below, aiming for Scyther's abdomen. Growlithe saw the bug attempt to dodge the incoming blow, but the dragon had other ideas.

Moving faster than something that big had any right to, it swept a claw towards Scyther's abdomen.

SHINK!

It was interrupted by steel.

More particularly, by one of Skarmory's feathers, launched from a well-suited vantage point in the air.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Scyther had shot forward and attempted to wrench through the dragonite's tail, his wings vibrating at incredible speeds— Red had called the maneuver Vibroblade.

Dragonite reacted instantly. Before Scyther's wings even touched it, it whipped its tail against the Scyther, bodily tossing the bug away.

A moment later, it extended its wings, probably going to move in for the kill.

WHAM!

A gargantuan force slammed into the dragonite, one so powerful that it left behind a massive crater in the ground. For the first time, the dragonite was pushed backward.

By two whole steps.

Growlithe blinked.

"Nice timing, Mia," Growlithe heard Red say, who was still floating in the air like a jigglypuff.

"Excellent coordination between your team members, Red," the old human laughed. "But I'm afraid it won't be enough."

"We'll see about that. Scyther, Skarmory, go."

Skarmory screeched out a warcry, and both her and Scyther's wings began to shine brightly. One descended from the skies, and the other emerged from the crust, both aiming to hit the Dragonite with everything they had.

Meanwhile, Mia raised her hands.

And all of a sudden, Red was shooting across the battlefield like a blur. Right towards the older human.

"Huh," he barked. "So he plans on grabbing the dratini himself while the large one is distracted. Pretty good plan, right?"

No one answered.

"Mawile?" Growlithe twisted his neck to look at the devious little trickster.

There was no response, for Mawile had vanished.

The moment Cynthia saw Pewter City, she knew she had fallen in love.

Built in the cradle of the Mountain of the Moon, it was a dichotomy of the archaic and the modern. On one side, she had the Xaer— the living quarters of the Pewter City natives. It was a feat of architectural ingenuity, a massive citadel carved into the very heart of the mountains.

On the other side was a sprawling sea of lights, a technological hub that made Jubilife City back in Sinnoh look like a backwater hick. Ever since the moonstone's discovery, the Kanto government had begun to invest in the area. Once the Pewter mountain range had shown that it not only provided rare minerals and metals, but also a trove of prehistoric fossils, Kanto had spared nothing in developing it.

Today, Pewter City was a vast research-haven in itself— a holy land for archaeologists and scientists studying evolution alike. And as someone who was incredibly interested in the field, Cynthia couldn't wait to rush into the world of antiquity that awaited her.

Unfortunately, the world itself seemed to be doing its level best to delay that.

"This is taking forever!" Cynthia moaned.

The person beside her giggled into her palm. "This is an international event. It's natural for there to be a lot of security."

"It's been four hours, Rin!" Cynthia scowled. "We're supposed to be important delegates."

Rin laughed. "It's a high profile event. We're lucky to be here at all, so what's a bit of a wait?"

Cynthia pouted. She had met Rin on the cruise— a fellow delegate like herself, who had joined in from Hoenn. Her father was a data scientist who was studying the genomic sequences of an ancient creature called Kabuto, and was working in Pewter City itself. Naturally, the man's family had been invited to the event, which meant the girl had gotten her invitation in a similar manner to Cynthia herself.

That alone made her feel somewhat close to the girl.

Furthermore, Rin was a prodigy at battling, much like herself. The jet-black haired girl had a League championship and major tournament victories under her belt and was now striving to become a Mid-Elite trainer. Cynthia, being as fiercely competitive as she was, had challenged her to a mock battle and had the misfortune of facing the girl's glalie.

The resulting massacre had been humbling— this being the first time she had been challenged by someone near her own age.

Sighing, Cynthia turned to her new friend.

"Just— just look at this." She held up her pokédex. "This should be proof enough, right? Then why this?"

She gestured to the large neon sign in front of them.

"The Mountain View Lodge," Rin read aloud. "It's a nice hotel. What's the problem?"

"They aren't letting us in Pewter city," Cynthia snapped. "They're making us stay here to rest. We'll only be allowed in tomorrow."

"Well in their defense, they've put us in a five-star hotel while we get through their security protocols. Surely that's better than waiting in line?"

"I really wanted to go in today," Cynthia pouted. Being so close to one of the world's leading archaeological wonders yet unable to enter was excruciating.

"And you can do that tomorrow," Rin placated. "Let's just get to the rooms and sleep, maybe have a nice meal."

Cynthia felt like arguing a bit more, but truth be told, she felt exhausted after the long journey. Not to mention, any further complaining just felt petty.

"Yea… If you say so."

"I know so," Rin promised.

It felt good. Leaving Celestic Town like that to travel to a whole new continent had seemed like an adventure, but she had started to feel homesick somewhere in the middle of the journey. The several week-long journey was big enough to burn off the high she was on when escaping, and everything had begun to feel alien and unfamiliar. Even now, when she was so close to her goal, a small part of her wanted to run back to her father. To safety.

Yes, she was a daddy's girl. Sue her.

Rin's presence, in that sense, had been a godsend. Cynthia had found a lot in common with the black-haired girl, happily talking about her grandfather's incomplete research as well as her hopes and dreams to work for the Parthenon. Rin had been completely understanding of her situation, and in the short time they had traveled together, the two had become steadfast friends.

And now, they had finally arrived in Pewter City. With a little luck, everything would fit in place and she'd be free of battling forever, or as she liked to put it— the Blackthorne curse.

To her, this was more than a trip. It represented freedom, which was probably why she was acting so childish and desperate to get in.

I suppose I can get some rest. It's just one more day, right?

With small steps, she trudged past the hotel's hallway, making her way to their room.

Silently, she put her hand into her purse to withdraw her ID card— one that functioned both as identification and a room key.

And found nothing.

Surprised, Cynthia ripped the purse off her shoulders and wrenched it open, rummaging through the contents.

Still nothing.

She checked every single pocket, then checked them again. She checked her pants. She checked everything.

There was no ID card.

"What's wrong?" Rin asked.

"I can't—" Cynthia fumbled, "I can't find my ID!"

She went through the motions once more, looking through her bag despite knowing she would not find it.

"I swear— but it's just not there."

"Chil," Rin said. "We'll just—"

"Excuse me."

Cynthia turned around and found herself staring at one of the room service staff— a gray-haired man with a goatee, clad in white and teal, the official colors of Pewter City.

"Is there a problem?"

"I've— I've lost my ID."

"A delegate, I take it, miss?" The man asked in a curt tone, bringing out something that resembled some kind of portable holographic device. "May I see some ID please?"

She looked up at the man. "I have my pokédex with me. Will that work?"

The man glanced away, slightly conflicted. "I apologize, miss. I'm new here, so I'm not sure if pokédexes alone are considered legitimate IDs for foreign delegates. We've had a lot of people trying to register through improper channels to get into this event, so the security is a bit—"

"I know," Cynthia put on a brave face, "so what do you need?"

"You could speak to the manager. If you provide your invitation and your pokédex, he can probably verify you with the list of invitees."

"Uhm… sure."

That seemed to satisfy the man. "The manager's office is that way, miss. The second one on the left."

"I'll come with you," Rin offered, gently holding onto her shoulders. Cynthia couldn't help but feel grateful towards the girl. She had done a lot to make her long journey less lonely.

The two of them had just started moving towards the manager's office when the attendant called out again.

"Excuse me, miss?"

"Yes?" Cynthia turned around.

"No, well, I meant your friend." The attendant looked embarrassed.

"Who, me?" Rin asked. "Is there a problem?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to verify your ID as well."

"Alright," Rin rummaged through her bag before pulling out her ID card, the one given to each delegate on the ship, and handing it to the attendant.

"Thank you."

A moment later, the device let out a small 'beep' before speaking out in a mechanical voice—

"Ariana Ortega. Approved."

The man looked up with a smile. "Thank you for your cooperation. Sorry for the interruption, and have a nice day, Miss Ortega."

"I will. Thank you."

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