Two Poke Balls fly through the air, dropping their payloads in unison. On Florian's court, the digital red flash gives way to a pair of slender, olive-green boots made from tight fur, sashaying one digitigrade paw in front of the other. Meowscarada crosses both arms behind his star-shaped mask, ruffling the ends of his split fur cape along the way. A few nicks cross the leaf-like, veiny underside of Meowscarada's cape as he passes through invisible Stealth Rocks, but his showman's glint remains unperturbed. The Pokemon plants his feet, and then thrusts his arms out to either side with a sly, almost sickly mewl from his crooked smile.
Opposite the Grass-type Pokemon comes Nemona's Quaquaval, which emerges from its ball with an explosive pose and a bright squawk that sounds straight off a festival float. The humanoid, avian Pokemon shimmies as if getting psyched up for a performance, droplets of water escaping the light blue wave-patterned feathers around his ankles, hips, and wings. Once enough has pooled around Quaquaval's webbed feet, the flamboyant Pokemon claps its hands and begins rhythmically tapping the bulbous orange ends of its toes. As the Water-type dances, liquid it kicks up magically coalesces into teardrop rings that gather around his braided tail feathers like a peacock's plumage.
"We're going to fight you with everything we've got!" Nemona says, practically dancing the same steps as her partner.
"That's what you always say, Nemona."
"Oye, Florian!" She unhooks her Tera Orb from the back of her belt and holds it out in her gloved hand. "Less talk, more battle! We've got a tradition to uphold."
"You're the one who spoke first," Florian grumbles, taking out his own Tera Orb.
Nemona closes her eyes and rests her left hand on the back of her right. Her silent focus is infectious; the crowd watches with bated breath.
Rika gets down on one knee, pointing to the fight and whispering in Poppy's ear as the young girl wipes her nose.
Hassel holds a hand over his mouth, shuttering in anticipation.
Penny's white-knuckled, lean-in grip threatens to snap her Eevee bag's strap.
"Shine blazingly bright, my greatest treasure." Nemona mutters to her Poke Ball.
As her eyes open, the Tera Orb gathers energy from the atmosphere. It glistens, warming in her hand and exuding so much force that it causes her loose hair to jostle in a different vector from the Tailwind blowing over their battlefield. Florian holds his Orb high above his head to similar effect, bathing in the glow that shines though his paradoxically translucent obsidian trinket.
"Let's go!" He shouts, tossing his Tera Orb at the same time as Nemona pitches hers.
Each one bursts as they collide into their respective Pokemon, flowering into crystalline pillars that rise nearly as high as Artazon's central windmill. The light from their terastallizations bounce off one another, amplifying with each reflection until the entire town becomes a second sun.
Despite their awed chattering, most everyone in the audience has to cover their eyes to avoid being blinded. The only standout sound is Brassius' crazed laughter as he looks down upon the overwhelming presence from atop the windmill.
"Beautiful! Magnifico!" The Gym Leader wheezes. "Just the inspiration we so desire!"
Soon the crystals crack, fissuring into webs like the floor of arid badlands before self-destructing. Shards fly out in all directions as the bulk of each structure dissolves into a misty dust. As that dust swirls and begins to dissipate, god rays shine through – green on Florian's side and a soft blue on Nemona's.
Meowscarada is the first to emerge from the mist, a bouquet of sharp-petal flowers rising from the crown atop his head and a geometric second skin of shimmering green crystal running across his figure. The Pokemon pulls off its signature pose again; meow now reverberating as if it were in a cave. Then, Meowscarada begins licking the back of its right paw before smoothing out the corresponding tuft of fur jutting out of his right cheek, purring like a kitten.
When Quaquaval follows suit, near-metallic chirps accompanied by a sway of its teardrop tail, Florian gasps. Where he expects to see a crystalline water spout rising out from Quaquaval's crest, he instead finds a set of four balloons – two red, two green – attached to diamond-chain strings.
"What the-" The young trainer crosses his arms. "Nemona?"
"Mmmhm?"
Her grin is dripping in smugness.
"You're the one who keeps going on about 'tradition' with our big battle finales!" He throws an arm out before letting his hand rest on his hip. Meowscarada mimics the motion in a sassier fashion. "We've always just used our enhanced Tera types."
"I happened to be at the Treasure Eatery, and I thought – what kind of Champion would I be if I didn't keep my rival on his toes?" She nonchalantly brushes the front of her shirt before giving him a focused stare.
"Don't tell me you're worried, amante."
His hand tightens into a fist as she giggles.
"Not a chance." Florian punches that fist into his other hand. "Hit them with a Night Slash, Meowscarada!"
With an assured mewl, the Grass-type dashes forward, fleet footing accentuated by the Tailwind at Florian's back. Though Meowscarada was easier to track thanks to the glowing green afterimage of his Tera skin, he was on top of his opponent before anyone could react. The Pokemon knocks Quaquaval off-kilter with a hard swipe across the now-Flying-type's cheek, interrupting his dance.
Marked by three claw marks in the light-blue crystal sheet over his face, Quaquaval looks doubly determined as his master offers a command.
"Don't let him get to you mi amor." Nemona sounds pained after that hit, silky vocals an octave lower. "Reversal!"
Quaquaval steps forward, turning a complete 360-degrees with his right leg up while advancing. As the Pokemon sets its foot back down, it leaps in the air and delivers a hurricane kick to the face with the full strength of its highly developed leg muscles.
The impact sends Meowscarada all the way back to its trainer, but he only skids along the acrylic floor for a moment before performing a slick kip up onto his feet.
"Let's keep up the assault," Florian says with a pump of his fist. "Use that new Flower Trick maneuver we've been working on."
Meowscarada nods, his flowering Tera crown glistening with Grass-type energy as he raises a paw. The floating sprig that typically lingered near his head flutters into his waiting grasp and morphs into a fat sage-green bulb with pink petals matching the Pokemon's collar. Taking a tight grip around the bomb, he rushes down Quaquaval once more.
"We're ready for you this time. Counter with Aqua Step, Quaquaval!"
Quaquaval shimmies forward, tapping through the puddle at his feet and kicking up extra droplets like an asteroid belt around his plump waist. The Pokemon squawks and flicks his hips, tail feathers jutting out. Each teardrop blade of water follows its motion, changing from a peacock tail into a sort of beaded hula-hoop. They spin fast enough to blend around Quaquaval like a planetary ring, kicked-up droplets cast out like sparks off a saw blade.
Despite his top running speed, Meowscarada manages to skip a beat, starts to turn a complete 180, and leap into the air with little more than a few strands of minty fur shed by the Aqua Step.
Meowscarada continues the corkscrew spins as he sails over Quaquaval's head. The avian Pokemon looks up with as much wide-beaked surprise as the audience, and avoids an awkward collision of their Tera crowns in the process.
The Grass-type lands gracefully on all fours, back raised in an arch. To Nemona and the audience behind her, Meowscarada's entire presence seems to change with this posture. The glint in his eyes is more malicious, body contorted more like a lynx ready to pounce than a master of ceremonies under the spotlight.
That glimpse into a more animalistic nature only lasts a moment, though. Meowscarada stands again, crosses his paws, and gives Nemona his characteristic sly smirk.
She doesn't notice the bristly bulb attached to her confused Pokemon's back until it's too late.
Meowscarada claps his paws and Quaquaval is immediately engulfed in an explosion that carries pollen across the battlefield on its earth-shaking shockwave. Multiple members of the audience cover their face or brace themselves after the shockwave passes, trying to keep steady. Closer than most, Nemona stumbles a step back, the presence of Meowscarada showboating between her and the blast not doing much to shield her.
Both Hassel and Rika look on approvingly. Hassel's broad hand clasps over his mouth harder, pulling his cheeks in, but his generous nodding suggests this powerful glare is accompanied by a smile underneath. Meanwhile, Rika stuffs both hands in the pockets of her pinstripe slacks, tugging her suspenders forward as she leans back.
"Never fails to impress, that kid." Rika's glasses glint in the sun.
"All the grace of a Finizen…" The older Elite Four adds, a weep straining against his throat as his hand muffles the sound. "He really has learned to embrace the beauty of nature."
By this point the Tailwind begins petering out, so the explosive cloud around Quaquaval lingers. But as Nemona finds her footing, she notices the telltale signs of Tera energy breaching through the smoke.
"Quaquaval, use Acrobatics as soon as you can!"
She hardly has time to flare out her gloved hand before Quaquaval jumps on the order. Bursting out from the smoke, the now-Flying-type's crown glistens as he grabs Meowscarada from behind.
Meowscarada's eyes shoot open as Quaquaval spins him around, as though the two were doing a Tango.
A quick knee to the stomach draws a surprised mewl out of Meowscarada.
Toying with his prey, Quaquaval leaps back, giving Meowscarada room to double over and catch his wheezing breath. All the while, the avian monster rhythmically claps the hands at the end of his wings with a matching two-step dance move.
He leaps back in right when Meowscarada seems to regain some faculties, delivering a steadier flurry of slaps and kicks. Quaquaval does just as much twirling around Meowscarada as he spins the feline Pokemon this way and that to hit every angle. His deft dance of death draws both laughter and cries of empathic pain from the crowd.
Quaquaval slips behind Meowscarada.
He spins Meowscarada around.
A sharp uppercut.
Throws Meowscarada around again by the shoulders. Buckles his knee.
Slips in front of the Pokemon.
Kicks him straight in the jaw.
Meowscarada is sent flying back toward his trainer again, but this time tumbles across the battlefield without the grace or confidence to get back up again. He merely settles at Florian's feet, breaths shallow and shoulders limp.
"Meowscarada!"
Florian drops to his knees, petting his Pokemon from the neck down to a cape that has wilted back like a beetle's closed shell.
Nemona laughs and claps with equal fervor from the other side of the arena as her Quaquaval takes his turn in the spotlight, doing a little jig. This certainly appeals to Poppy, who claps alongside Nemona. Most everyone else was concerned with Meowscarada, whose Tera crown remained despite what seemed to be a knock-out.
"C'mon buddy, you've got a little more in you. You're strong." Florian sniffles back, shaking his head. "I know you can do this."
The quiet moment of affection catches Penny's eye most of all. She squirms in place, lamenting the fact there was nothing she could do. The same fear she felt standing before the Paradise Protection Protocol scratches at the back of her brain.
But she didn't just stand back then.
Arven, Nemona… All of them offered Florian their support as he stood up to the darkness threatening to consume their world.
That's the least she could do again now.
Penny starts clapping. A steady pattern: clap, clap, beat, and clap. Repeat. Her face blooms with red splotches as she attracts the exact kind of attention she despised from the crowd – and Florian himself, who glances back from Meowscarada's side.
Everyone in Paldea would recognize the melody she was aping. The babushka beside her begins clapping along.
Though this refrain was typically reserved for Gym battles, soon enough almost everyone around the Artazon arena joins in. Some focus on singing instead, the memetic theme better known to most citizens than even Paldea's official anthem.
Now it was Florian's turn to look around in awe, this support overwhelming his faculties.
Nemona covers her mouth with both hands as she spins in place, taking as much of this in as she could. Then she fans the tears welling in her eyes with both hands, muttering something in her native language.
"You hear them, Meowscarada?" Florian speaks to his Pokemon privately, leaning in close. "The people want an encore."
He pets his partner once more, but quickly scrambles back to his feet as Meowscarada raises his upper body. Growling with his strain, the Grass-type gets to his feet with an unsteady step. But he settles. Takes a deep breath.
And smiles for the crowd.
Nemona is the first to pop off, crying and cheering for her opponent as chunks of the audience break from their chanting to follow suit. Florian pumps his fist.
"Alright buddy, let's give 'em hell. Use Double Team!"
Meowscarada leans in, pulls his paws back, and scream in that oh-so special way only a feline can. The very sound seems to disrupt the molecules holding Meowscarada together; his body vibrates faster and more erratically until he splits like an amoeba.
Once the first clone breaks off, the process duplicates almost instantaneously from each Meowscarada until a paper doll chain surrounds Quaquaval. All of them move in unison, striking a smug pose with their paw turned up to the sky.
A Flower Trick bomb appears for every clone.
This sight snaps Nemona out of her reverential stupor, and she gains the same panic as her Pokemon.
"Erm-" She slaps her cheeks to come back to attention, and then tightens her stance. "The duplicates can't hurt you mi amor, just take a shot at hitting the real Meowscarada with Aqua Step!"
Quaquaval's dance is slower and more considered as he still seems less confident from the center of this snickering circle. But he follows orders just the same.
The avian Pokemon goes through its full motion this time, moving toward one part of the circle and taking a spinning leap through the air before turning his peacock tail into a saw. The sharp blades of water completely bisect three Meowscaradas, but all of them fade into smoke – fakes.
However, the flower bombs remain.
Those explosives go off and blast Quaquaval back into the center of the circle.
Nemona gasps. "What?"
From the other side of the arena, Florian grins and rubs the bottom of his nose.
"The Double Team clones might be fake, but that doesn't mean the bombs are!"
All the Meowscaradas meow and flare out their leaf-vein capes. Crystalline Tera skin catches the light like magnifying glass, and it shines in Nemona's eyes. Once she's able to look at the field again, she and the rest of the audience become privy to the trick. The real Meowscarada is propping a sprig up above Quaquaval's head, out from which a dozen strings hold each clone's bomb suspended at different angles. He snickers and snaps the core line, at which point all of the clones act like they're throwing their flowers to match the motion of strings collapsing in on Quaquaval.
This explosion reaches nearly as high as the windmill and knocks multiple viewers onto their butts. The smoke didn't have to clear for everyone to know the result, and Nemona returns her Quaquaval not long after his fainted body emerges in the smoldering puddle left by his peacock tail.
Brassius clears his throat.
"And with a stupendous knock-out, the winner of this exhibition match is young Florian – with two Pokemon remaining, at that!"
The crowd rumbles to life, cheering and applauding with the same level of energy as Brassius' echoing laughter.
Florian waves to his fans with a sharp grin, but Nemona is by no means a defeatist. She runs out to his side of the field and tackles the now-solo Meowscarada into a tight hug, easily lifting and spinning the feline Pokemon around.
"Oye, that was incredible!" She laughs. Rather than returning the hug, Meowscarada just lets her ragdoll him around; too sleepy to do much more. "The coolest attack I've ever seen!"
Rika holds Poppy up by her waist like that scene in The Pyroar King. The little girl screams and goes nuts with the crowd around her.
Hassel sobs into his hands, blubbering on about how talented his pupils are.
From the other end of the stadium, Penny takes a step out from the unspoken boundary set by the crowd. Yet she stops, head spinning with thoughts. She didn't want to take Florian's spotlight here, did she?
Before she can slip back into anonymity, Florian apparently has the same idea. He runs over to her, and much like Nemona out on the field, pulls Penny into a strong hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
As he laughs and sways them side-to-side under the watchful eye of an adoring crowd, Penny just imagines it was her getting to hear that laughter alone. She smiles and hugs him back, burying her nose in the sweet scent of his jacket's fuzzy shoulder.