C'est La Vie (A Pokemon Y Storylocke)

by LunaKat17

"Never hesitate, never forget"—that is the motto of a Kantonian Trainer. To always keep moving forward, to pursue your dream no matter the cost, price, or consequences. And one Trainer from Kanto finds herself asking if such ideals can survive in Kalos, as she grapples with legends, villains, and secrets that were better left buried. (Based off my Pokemon Y Nuzlocke).

17. Chapter 6: Entrainement (Part 1)

Chapter 6—Entraînement
(noun)
—French for "training", "practice", or "coaching"

.

.

.

Viola had lost a lot of blood, and they were lucky to get her medical treatment in time. Alexa hadn't forbidden treatment—something Celestine wasn't aware was even within a Gym Leader's authority—so, within two hours, the younger Dupuis sister was laying unconscious in a cot, comatose but stable. The only sign of life was the periodic jump of the green line on the monitor, punctuated by a piercing beep.

Celestine regarded the former Gym Leader behind a glass window, the ghost of her reflection staring back at her with an unsmiling mouth and flinty eyes. A nurse was replacing Viola's depleted blood bag with a fresh one, bright red traveling down a sinuous IV tube. The impromptu bandage made from Hayami's frubbles had helped immensely, the doctors had said. It had stalled the major hemorrhaging and had probably saved her life. Now she lay among the hundreds—maybe thousands—of Alexa's victims, all packed tightly in this cramped, overflowing ICU.

The wound would likely scar, though. The memory would be permanent, where the air pressure has turned sharp enough to slice flesh and bone. Forever, Viola would look in the mirror and recall the incident where Alexa had almost killed her.

Her own sister.

Celestine placed her hand on the glass, but her fingers were too numb to feel the chill.

She caught movement in her peripheral and glanced over to see Calem settling next to her. He'd put Hayami away for now, and he watched the nurse leave Viola's cot to tend to another patient with a stony expression. Tierno had left to escort Rinka to the Center, but Calem had stayed, a thousand things burning behind his eyes.

The ICU was surprisingly empty, all the doctors and nurses off in the many rooms, tending to their many patients, and the hallways were practically barren. Staccato beeping of heart monitors and life support flooded the air like an eerie requiem, punctuated by the occasional agonized groan or wet cough. Here, enveloped in the symphony of the sick and dying, they were practically alone, two souls staring at the same image, but there might as well have been a chasm between them, as far as Celestine was concerned. Calem may have watched the same battle, but he didn't understand the implications, hadn't seen what she had. One of the virtues—and curses—of being Aesith, she mused bitterly.

His reflection turned to her, an inferno burning in his eyes. "What the fucking hell are you thinking?"

The hand on the glass slowly curled into a fist. She let it drop back down to her side, kept her eyes fixed forward. "Yeah, I really don't want to have this conversation right now."

"Well that's too fucking bad!" Calem snapped, his voice harsh with an anger that she'd only heard from him once—when Alistair had lay on the gymnasium floor of Aquacorde High, broken and bloody. "You just challenged a fucking Berserker to a Gym Battle! The hell was going through your mind there, huh?!"

Something hard squeezed at her vocal chords. When she narrowed her eyes at her reflection, it mirrored her, and her face was so naturally pale that you'd almost believe she was carved from ice. "That's none of your business."

His upper lips curled back into something almost feral, eyes flashing. "It is my business when you put your team in danger like this!"

"No. It's really not." She crossed her arms and tried to pretend it was because she was fighting back of a pang of indignance and not hugging herself for comfort, recalling the blank look in the Scizor's unnaturally-blue eyes and the ease with which it sliced its opponent in two. "It's my team, and my job to look after them. Not yours."

"Yeah, and you're doing a fan-fucking-tastic job," Calem drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm. Celestine didn't need to face him to know how deathly cold his gaze was. She could simply feel it against her skin, frigid and unrelenting. "In one day, you've allowed a member of your team to get put in critical, leaped onto the field with a Pokémon that killed its opponent only a matter of seconds beforehand, and challenged a literal Berserker to a Reaper Battle. Yes, Celestine. You're Trainer of the fucking Year."

She bristled, fury bursting inside her chest. Her shoulders were trembling slightly. "What the hell else was I supposed to do?!"

His reflection threw his arms up in frustration. "Let someone else—someone more qualified—handle the situation!"

"Who? The League?" She briefly envisioned a Kalosian official, clean-pressed suit and pencil mustache and a charming, oily white smile as he spoke eloquently of politics and other bureaucratic nonsense, and the thought made her lip curl. No, what this Gym needed was an official of Kantonian nature, warlike and willing to do whatever necessary, to fix this mess. "You heard what Viola said earlier—the League didn't do jack shit! Which really says a lot about Kalos's priorities, doesn't it? I bet the reason no one has any idea of what's going on here is because of this morbid fascination politics."

It wasn't meant to be a personal affront, but you wouldn't have guessed that from the way Calem bristled and the way his eyes blazed. "Considering the elections decide the Prime Minister and governing body, I'd say there's a reason for them to capture the region's attention, yeah. But if the League were aware of what was going on, they'd probably step in! I have a contact in the League who could—"

"Your ex?" she asked, voice sweet and condescending all at once. She chanced a look at him from her peripheral.

The left side of his face twitched. "I'm talking about a different contact—one that's much higher up."

Well, that raised some questions in of itself, but that really wasn't the point right now. Celestine shook her head gravely, her nails biting into the underside of her elbows. "And I'm just supposed to wait in the meantime while the body count rises? Hell no. If I can do something about it now, I'm gonna do something!"

"In three weeks!" Calem shot back belligerently.

That was the last straw holding her patience back. She snapped her head in his direction, meeting the furious intensity in his eyes with her own. "I need time to train my team to a sufficient level," she growled. "And I've heard a lot of stories about how slow Leagues are to react when their primary government clashes with them—three weeks is light-speed in comparison!"

He let out a frustrated noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a growl, clearly trying to regain some composure but failing miserably. "My contact could push this to the forefront of the League's agenda."

"And how long will that take?!" She swore she was drawing blood now, with how hard her nails were pressing into her skin, and her heartbeat throbbed against her temples, hot and angry. "At least this way, the Gym will have to stay closed in anticipation for the match and possible change in ownership. At least this way, there won't be any casualties in the meantime!"

Calem made a few wild gesticulations with his hands, face twisted with irritation and muttering incoherent Kalosian, before he took a deep, calming breath and looked her in the eye again. "You don't want the title, though."

Oh dear Birds, he could not be this stupid. "No shit, Sherlock."

"Then why the challenge?" he demanded, exasperated.

"Well I needed to get her attention somehow." What did migraines feel like? She was pretty sure she was getting a migraine.

"Why, pray tell?" Now it was his turn to sound sweetly condescending, and she was almost impressed—had it not been directed at her. As it was, she scowled, and his eyes were dark as midnight. "I mean, I get that you're a veteran Trainer and you're way more experienced, but why do you need to do this? Is it, like, some unresolved white knight complex hidden under that abrasive exterior of yours, or is there some other, deeper, physical, non-psychological reason that you won't allow—oh, gee, I don't know!—an actual trained professional to handle this?"

She turned away sharply, her gaze finding its way back to Viola's sickbed. The woman looked uncomfortably pale and far too still, borderline lifeless. Unbidden, Celestine thought of Alexa's deathly pallor, the mania in her smile, the lack of coherency in her eyes.

"Only someone like me can do this."

A beat of silence—and Celestine realized too late she'd voiced her thought out loud.

"...the hell are you talking about?" The harshness in Calem's voice had given way to something warier, and she could feel his gaze searching her profile.

Well. Shit. She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant to say anything. Dragging him into this was a mistake, screamed every rational part of her. But, a second and equally rational part of her argued, he already knew she was Aesith, didn't he? He was probably already figuring it out—she could see it in the expression of his reflection, the metaphorical gears turning behind his eyes.

She exhaled through her nostrils. If he was going to figure out anyway, then no harm, no foul, right? "I'll give you thirty seconds to work it out, Lafayette."

A beat of silence.

Then Calem groaned and, from her peripheral, she saw him pinch the bridge of his nose. "Are you shitting me?"

Huh. Maybe he wasn't so stupid after all.

"Fucking—!" His reflection shook his head, dropping his hand. "I knew something was off."

She frowned, sneaking a sidelong glance at him. "You did?"

"Well, I mean, I can't see through the Veil or anything," he said, sounding both tired and exasperated, as he turned back to the window, "but this isn't the first time I've seen Transcendence."

Her brows rose, three parts surprised and one part intrigued. "Really?"

"Mm, yeah. There's sort of this... I dunno, a vibe, y'know? Like, the image sorta flickers, like a glitchy hologram—except it's really subtle and you don't notice it unless you're paying super-close attention."

Interesting, interesting. But that could wait. "So you see why I have to do this now?"

A pause, during which his expression morphed into something almost pained. "...I. Guess so, yeah. That explains a lot. My god."

She grunted.

He sighed and started massaging the bridge of his nose again. "You do realize you're not the only Aesith in Kalos, though, right? Like, there's this one girl, Korrina, who—"

"Is where, exactly?" she cut in curtly. "Not here, right? Well, I am. And while I'm here, it's my responsibility, as a Trainer to deal with a corrupt Gym Leader—and as an Aesith, to deal with one that's abusing Transcendence."

"...fair enough."

They lapsed into another silence until a doctor approached them and asked them to leave, because they were disturbing the nurses. With their shouting, was the unspoken message. As they were leaving, Calem got a text from Trevor demanding that they return to the Center, claiming it was urgent ("Knowing Tierno, he's probably staged an intervention by now," Calem said with a humorless laugh—it was probably meant to be a joke, but it was delivered far too flatly). Which was how they ended up walking back to the Center together, the silence now very tense and prickly and uncomfortable.

After a minute or two of solid quiet, Calem stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and spoke up. "I'm still going to call my contact—see if I can get the League to act."

A spike of irritation went through her. "Seriously? After I just finished explaining—"

"Cool off, Lavieaux," he interrupted, voice flat. "I'm hoping they can intervene before you have to face Alexa. And if not, they'll make a great cavalry in case things get out of hand—y'know, just in case."

She took a moment to let his words and their implications sink in.

Calem was helping her.

...huh.

She regarded him skeptically. "...what's your angle?"

Calem stopped, stunned, and she did too. He blinked at her dumbly. "Pardon?"

Her expression didn't change, save for the slow arch of her left brow. "Don't look so offended! I mean, c'mon. It's no secret that you're not exactly my number one fan. If it's any consolation—I'm not very fond of you myself. And yet you're risking your neck for me? You expect me to believe that, no questions asked? Sorry, pal, I don't exactly buy charity acts unless they're from someone like Shauna, who's, y'know, the type of person to do that selfless shit. You, on the other hand, don't strike me as the chivalrous type. So again, and this time with a little more candor: Why are you helping me?"

He scowled, as if he'd tasted something foul. "How self-involved are you?"

Now it was her turn to blink dumbly, the skepticism slipping right off her face. "Eh?"

"This has nothing to do with you," he snapped, as if offended that she's suggest otherwise. She could see the outline of his hands clenching into fists inside his pockets. "This is about Alexa, and how what she's doing is wrong. So, yeah, I'm gonna try to stop her however I can. Coincidentally, you're doing the same. I'm not going out of my way to help you—like you said, I think you're a condescending bitch. But, it just so happens that we're on the same side, and that's it. No ulterior motive, no connection to you, no 'chivalry act', no nothing whatsoever. End of story. Sorry to disappoint you."

He started moving forward again, grumbling something under his breath in unintelligible Kalosian. Celestine stood there for a moment longer, though, her mind taking a few extra seconds to properly digest this statement, her gaze fixed on his retreating back. Unconsciously, her lips curled into a smirk.

She couldn't believe she was saying this, but Calem might be the most reasonable person she'd met in Kalos so far.

She jogged to catch up and fell back into step with him.

They lapsed into another silence, and Celestine allowed her mind to wander. She thought about the day she and Calem had met, about how vehemently they'd been at each other's throats. Had they met under some other circumstance, might they have gotten along, perhaps? Had they met under different circumstances, would they have been... maybe, allies? Friends? What would have happened if she hadn't been ignorant about the ethics of Reaper Battles in his home region, and vice versa?

An uncomfortable prickling sensation filled her lungs as she recalled Alistair, and how he'd had to pay the price for her ignorance.

"Hey," she said, before she could stop herself. She had to fight to keep her eyes raised, to keep looking ahead, instead of down at her feet (old habits, it's considered a show of respect to look down). "I'm—I'm sorry about... about Alistair."

She felt Calem's eyes on her, but, again, she kept her eyes forward. The red roof of the Center peeked out over the roofs of the other buildings, shiny and new in contrast the rest of the historical structures.

"I—I mean it. I am sorry." It came out more awkward than she'd meant, more forced. Ugh, why was this so impossible? "I'm not just saying it because you're helping me—though I am a little pissed by that 'condescending bitch' remark. Look, I... I admit it. I went too far. That's on me. I have to make up for it. I should have admitted it before, but I'm stubborn and bitchy and it takes me a while to admit I'm wrong. So I'm sorry about that, too."

Again, he didn't say anything.

She stopped, suddenly, and, on impulse, grabbed his arm, forced him to come to stop. He whirled around to glare at her, and while she didn't appreciate it while she was apologizing, at least it was an improvement. Because she was digging deep here, dammit, grasping for something, and the least he could do was look her in the eye and acknowledge her.

"Look, I— I'm not saying this is an excuse or anything but— I honestly didn't know how Reaper Battles worked here. I expected it to be like Kanto, but it wasn't." She stopped, suddenly. Her grip on Calem's arm tightened, briefly, before she let go and let her hand drop to her side. His gaze was just so intense, so she let her eyes drop to her shoes in a traditional display of respect. "…I guess— I guess I was expecting a lot of things to be just like Kanto, and when they turned out to be so different, I... It's all these little things that just, just made me realize how far I was from home. And I got frustrated, and I know it's no excuse, but the battle sort of became a flashpoint and I just—! I ended up taking it out on you and Alistair. And I'm sorry for that, really—"

"You don't owe me an explanation," Calem interrupted.

She curled her hands into fists, but forced them to unclench. "Maybe, but... You deserve one. I can imagine how terrifying that must have been, to watch that happen to one of your Pokémon. If it had been me, I'd go ballistic. I treated you like you were in the wrong, and you weren't, and... I'm not good at apologies, okay? I'm the sort of person that would die before admitting their mistakes, and I'm proud and stubborn and I hold grudges like nobody's busine— Mmph!"

And she couldn't say anything else, because Calem's finger had pressed itself against her mouth. Her gaze snapped back to his face.

He stared at her down his nose. "Look, I don't need your life's story, I get the idea. Consider this an official acceptance of your apology—now you can shut up."

She smacked his hand away with a growl. "Forget it. I take back everything I said. You're a fucking asshole."

"Well, you're a condescending bitch, so I guess we're even."

He started walking again. She huffed and followed him. Silence reigned again, but it was a little less tense, and it slipped over Celestine's skin in a way that was irritating but comfortable, like an itchy old sweater given to you by your aunt on Christmas. It itches like hell, but you wear it anyway, because it's warm enough to keep out the cold.

That was what the silence was like.

---

The Center was in a state of low-key panic, whispers flying around everywhere, and it felt like they'd somehow stepped into a warzone, where venomous rumors were shot instead of bullets. The sound of gossip practically slapped Celestine in the face the moment she stepped through the door, and she was about ninety-one percent sure it hadn't been nearly this crowded when she'd last been here.

No sign of Rinka, though. Maybe she was at home or something. Or being tended to behind closed doors, to keep her from being turned into a spectacle. To keep her away from this warzone of gossip and rumors and whispers.

"Can you call Tierno and asked him where they are?" Celestine asked, turning to Calem. The whispers grated against her eardrums, bullets bouncing off her skin.

He'd already whipped out his Caster and was texting them, letters appearing on the holographic screen. A moment later, it pinged, announcing the reply that appeared, and his mouth dipped into a frown as he scanned the screen.

"They're in your room, apparently," he said, dispelling the screen and pocketing his Caster.

Celestine blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Yup. Which floor are you on?"

"Um, first." She blinked again, her brain still trying to process. "How did they get into my room?"

"Rena's a researcher, remember? And you have a Dex registered to your licence. Researchers are given access to the rooms of Trainers like that," Calem explained, making his way over to the door marked "dormitory".

People were whispering and staring at them, but Celestine ignored them. "Is that really necessary for researchers here?"

They reached the door, and Calem opened it, raising his brows coyly. "Remember who Rena works for."

Sycomore-Hakase. Who literally did not understand boundaries. "...right."

The hallway was branched off into about five different halls, A-E. An elevator was located to Celestine's right, probably meant for people to find their way to halls F through Z. To her puzzlement, Calem made his way over to said elevator.

"Okay, I'm have to go and get something from my room," Calem explained to her puzzled look. He pressed the up button. "I'll join you and the others later."

She frowned. "You don't know which room is mine."

The elevator doors opened with a ding. Calem flashed her a smirk as he stepped in. "Don't worry. I'll just find the one with the most shouting."

The doors closed before Celestine could respond.

A furious huff left her as she turned away and stormed down the hall labelled B. She swiped her Card into the reader with such vehemence that it was a miracle the thing wasn't sliced in half.

She threw the door opened—and was immediately greeted by Tierno, along with Shauna, Serena, and Trevor. They all looked up suddenly, in an uncanny unison, with expressions that ranged from startled to concerned. Celestine took a moment to take in the sight: Tierno was crosslegged on the floor (zen-style), Trevor (holding a digital tablet in his hands that he'd been tapping on) and Shauna on either side of the bed (with the gift basket having been moved to beneath Shauna's legs), and Serena leaning back against the wall (and yeah, now Celestine
could see the resemblance between her and Calem).

Celestine sighed and closed the door. Calem was right—this was a fucking intervention.

"Great," Trevor grumbled, throwing the tablet down on the bed. "Now I owe Serena fifty bucks."

She blinked. "Eh?"

"I, uh." He hesitated, his expression shifting to sheepish, and he rubbed absently at the back of his head. "May have bet Serena I couldn't finish beta-ing her notes before you showed up?" He cast Serena a look, the nerves melting a little. "By the way, Serena, your syntax is terrible."

Serena scowled. "I was writing in a hurry. Sue me."

"I counted, like, twenty errors."

"Again, speed writing!"

Shauna's gaze wandered to Celestine's shoulder and got stuck there, her eyes widening, her face losing color rapidly. "...is that blood?"

Celestine looked down at her shirt, and noticed for the first time the great dark stain on the shoulder of her shirt. A matching splotched marred the outer thigh of her jeans. Viola's blood. "Ah, yes. But, it's... not mine."

Shauna's face went blank with horror. Tierno eyed her silently, sadly, and even Trevor and Serena broke off from their conversation stare at Celestine with mild concern.

Celestine grabbed the strap of her bag and wrung it out in her hands. Their gazes itched on her skin like fire, and suddenly, she couldn't stand it anymore—standing here, open, exposed. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm going to go change. Yeah. 'Scuse me."

She jumped passed Tierno's legs and slipped into the bathroom before anyone could stop her, the door slamming shut.

Celestine groaned, leaning back against the door, running a hang through her bangs. Birds, this was why she needed to do things alone. She didn't have time for this—trying to justify herself to others, worrying about them worrying about her, and, just... Ugh.

Just change clothes, Lavieaux. Just change clothes.

She tossed her bag onto the toilet and pulled out her Storage Key—a flat, rectangular computer chip. Thirteen seconds of scrolling later, a blue laser deposited a fresh set of de-digitized clothes on the counter, and she deposited the device back into her bag.

There was a rapping at the door.

Celestine shucked off her bloodstained shirt. "Whoever it is, go away."

The door opened and Celestine jumped, whirling around. Shauna slipped in and closed it behind her, minty eyes glinting sternly.

Celestine blinked. Shauna stared.

The Kantonian turned away and dropped her shirt in the sink. "Do you usually barge in on people when they're changing? Because that's something creepers do."

"I need to talk to you," Shauna said coolly. As Celestine grabbed the soap and started scrubbing at the bloodstain, she noticed Shauna's reflection, the critical gleam in her eyes.

"We are talking. Right now." Celestine put the soap back and ran the faucet, watching as the water turned red as it swirled the drain. Damn, I'm going to need to pay for laundry, aren't I? "Are you seriously going to watch?"

The reflection arched a brow. "Do you want me to turn around?"

Celestine smiled wryly, turning the water off and tossing the wet shirt to the side of the counter. "Well, it would be awkward for you to watch me take my bra off."

The reflection blinked rapidly, face going blank. "Why would you—"

"Changing into workout clothes so I can start training immediately." She knelt down to untie her boots, eyeing the reflection fingered the rim of the counter. "I don't mind—we're both girls—I just don't want you to start complaining."

Shauna's reflection rolled her eyes and turned around, arms crossing.

Celestine kicked her boots off. The linoleum was cool underfoot, and the lingering mist from the shower she'd taken earlier made every breath a little heavier.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Shauna blurted, breaking the silence.

Celestine shucked her jeans off and threw them into the sink. She grabbed the soap again. "Shauna, I've already had this talk with Calem. Please don't make me repeat it."

"Well in this case, I'm gonna have to agree with Cali-kinz here," Shauna bit out. "This is a terrible idea."

Celestine paused, her hand frozen on the faucet. "Cali-kinz?"

"That's not important," the Hoennian snapped. "That's, like, the least important point I have to make. You're taking an unnecessary risk here! Tierno told me about what happened in there, and then you just decided—"

"You realize we're having conversation while I'm in my underwear?" Celestine grabbed the folded pair of black and red leggings in the corner and started to slip them on.

"Stop trying to change the subject!" Shauna exploded. The shoulders of her reflection were hunched and tight, trembling slightly with a sort of bottled fury. "You just challenged a Berserker to a Reaper Battle! Like— Like, what the shit?"

Celestine shimmied a little as she pulled the fabric up over her hips. "I don't have to explain myself to you. My decisions aren't—and never will be—your business."

"I just want to know what's going on with you!" Shauna uncrossed her arms, fingers curling into fists. "Like, one minute, we're talking, and we're having fun, and I feel like I'm finally getting through to you—and then you just— Just clam up! Like, no explanation or anything! What's up with that?!"

The air felt cool and heavy on Celestine's exposed stomach and shoulders. "I'm not the sort of person you should be hanging around, Shauna."

"Oh my god, not this again!" Shauna's reflection cranes her head back to look at the ceiling, huffy. "Don't pull this bull, Celestine. Who I talk to and associate with isn't something you get to decide. My actions are my decision, not yours. Don't say stuff like 'you shouldn't hang around me'. If I wanna hang around you, I'll hang around you—Behemoth knows you need some optimism to balance out your cynicism."

"First of all, I take offense to that." Celestine sloughed her bra off and started slipping the sports bra over her head. "Secondly, by that logic, shouldn't I be allowed to make my own decisions? Like, who I battle, for example?"

"Normally, yeah—but this a Berserker we're talking about." Cautiously, Shauna chanced a glance at the Kantonian as Celestine swept her hair over her shoulder. "Like, your team is only a week old, and this Alexa chick is using a Scizor? No, that—that's not a rational decision. That's suicide."

Celestine turned to face her, throwing her hair back. "So what if it is?"

"So you can't just throw your life around like that!" Shauna snapped, whirling around to face Celestine so sharply, her left pigtail slapped her cheek.

"Again—still my decision, in the end."

Shauna's eyes narrowed. "And what about your team, Celestine? Do you get to make that decision for them? Don't they get a say? As it is now, you're risking their lives—hell, they're on the frontline! Shouldn't they get a say in this to? Have you even consulted them?"

"That's exactly what I was going to do." Celestine made a move to step towards the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"

But Shauna suddenly blocked the door, eyes burning. "Don't just fucking walk away from me. We're not finished."

Celestine's eyes narrowed. "Move."

"Not until you listen to me!" Shauna shouted.

"Move."

"Back out," Shauna said coldly, her voice suddenly deathly quiet. Celestine didn't even realize Shauna could sound threatening, and it would have been amusing if she weren't pissing Celestine off. "You need to back out, like, yesterday. This is too dangerous. You're not doing this."

"Shauna—"

"Don't you 'Shauna' me, like this is no big deal!" Shauna's voice is sharper now. She's not afraid to be angry anymore. Her gaze bores into Celestine, challenging, daring. "This isn't you like dying your hair or getting a tattoo, Celestine! This is a fucking Reaper Battle. I don't care how much of veteran you are—I can't let you do this. I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror ever again if I didn't stop you."

Oh Birds.

Celestine shook her head. Ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous. "Okay, Shauna, listen the fuck up. I am not here to make you feel like a Good Samaritan. If I wanna get myself into shit, that's none of your fucking business and shouldn't even be a blip on your conscience."

Shauna's brows rose. "Wait—you think I'm doing this to feel better about myself? Oh my god." She scoffed, looking at Celestine in exasperation. "I can't believe you would honestly think that!"

"Well what am I supposed to think?" Celestine fired back. "You honestly expect me to believe that you're just doing this out of the goodness of your heart? Like hell! You don't even know me! We're not friends, Shauna! You don't care about total strangers!"

"Well I do!"

"Why?"

"Because someone has to!" Shauna shouted, her composure starting to crack. There was a tremor and her voice, and it hit the octave above it for a moment. "Someone has to got to convince you that you aren't this big, bad bitch who's alone in the world and that no one cares about her, because I know that somewhere, deep down, you are a good, kind person who needs to know that someone does care about her—and goddammit, fine! I'll be that person! Not because I need to, but because I want to, and I feel like you need it! I think you need a friend, goddammit.

"And as your friend—I just can't let you to fucking do this! Not to yourself, because Tierno told me that Berserker lady attacks the challengers and I don't want you to end up in the hospital. And not to your team, which don't deserve to be put in harm's way for your pride. Some I'm gonna say it again, and this time take into consideration that—crazy as it might be for you to believe—I say this because I genuinely care about your well-being: back the fuck out."

Celestine's throat constricted around her diaphragm, vocal chords strangling her from the inside out. Birds, leave it to Shauna to be utterly selfless, to go out of her way to not only see the good in people but try and bring it to the surface. Leave it to Shauna to have such a genuinely pure sentiment...

...and completely waste it on a situation she didn't comprehend.

Celestine grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"First of all, you don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine." Celestine was Aesith. If the legends were to be believed, then she was protected by the Goddess's blessing, and no force on earth could stop her from dying before her time—before old age wore away at her flesh and bone. The worst that could happen was that she could be put into a coma, but she'd recover within a week or two. "Second of all, I'm going to consult my team right now. I won't force them into something, and if they do agree, I can guarantee you that I will take every possible measure to keep them safe." Of course she would. She wasn't a Berserker, didn't see them as expendable. She needed a strong team, and it would do her no good to start over. "And third of all, I appreciate the sentiment, Shauna, but this isn't about you. Not about you caring about me, or worrying about me, or me needing a friend or whatever the hell kind of bullshit you think is going on.

"I've decided to do this, regardless of how you feel." She crossed her arms and made a half-assed effort at looking apologetic, because she sort of was. Just a little. "And as a Trainer, I can't back down. I won't back down. So thank you, for saying that, but it doesn't change my mind."

Shauna stared at her in utter disbelief for about sixteen second before she blinked, and the spell was broken. Her expression was flooded by utter dismay, and those crestfallen eyes squeezed at Celestine's heart.

She was sorry. Really, truly. But she was not about to suck Shauna into a Transcendence war.

"You're really gonna make your team suffer for your pride?" Shauna asked, a little out of breath. Stunned, off-balance, uncomprehending.

"This isn't even about— Dammit, Shauna, just move already." Celestine made a move to brush past Shauna, but the Hoennian's demeanor changed suddenly. Shauna crossed her arms, her body language morphing into an indominable will of sorts, one that made Celestine jerk back suddenly.

Shauna's voice shook as she spoke, a light tremor that bellied an overwhelming resolve. "You are going to back, or I'm going to call the Professor and ask very nicely for him to suspend your licence."

Celestine's jaw went slack.

Okay, what the fuck. Where did this even come from. Since when was Shauna assertive what was happening right now.

And then a slow coal of anger solidified in the pit of her stomach, and her fingers curled into fists at her side.

"Say that again," Celestine dared her, something dangerous having found its way into her voice. A set of metaphorical claws, usually sheathed, being stretched and played with, like a muscle that had gone to sleep after a few hours of disuse.

The tone seemed to rattle Shauna, just a little bit, but she steadied herself again. "The Professor is the one who got you your Kalosian licence—your sponsor, right? He can take it away, too. And if I tell him that you're purposely putting your team in jeopardy, he's going to have to."

He wouldn't. Hakase understood her Aesith nature and all the fucking bells and whistles that came with it. He's protest—oh hell, he'd protest vehemently, but she knew that when push came to shove, he wouldn't confiscate her license. Penalize her, maybe, not confiscate. Not nullify.

He'd probably contact the warden, though. Celestine thought of the contact in her phone—Beladonis—and winced internally. That would be a fucking nightmare in of itself.

"You don't even know what you're talking about," Celestine snapped. Her nails sank into her skin, harder, harder, harder. "You don't even know what you're fucking doing. Or what you're playing with."

"Do you?" Shauna shot back.

Celestine's patience had reached its limit, and her composure crumbled away like brittle autumn leaves, brown and decayed. "Yes, Shauna, I do! I'm the only one of us who knows what's going on, and you think you know, but you really don't! So move out of my way already!"

"I already told you—I can't let you fucking get away with this!" Shauna snarled, protective, borderline vicious. Had it been any other circumstance, Celestine might have admired it, but it only drove her over the edge.

"And I can't let her fucking get away with this!" Celestine screeched back.

The roiling fury in Shauna's eyes stilled. "Her? Her who?"

"That bitch! That fucking—!" Celestine's voice warbled and trembled, shrieking and screeching and they could probably hear her through the fucking door but fuck them, fuck Shauna, fuck everything. Her veins burned with venom, hatred and disgust too great to even name, and her head pounded in tune with her thunderous heartbeat and blood roared in her ears like a fucking beast, and lights burst behind her eyes, bright blue and vibrant, little Infinity Crosses. "That woman, who—who takes the reputation of a Gym and runs it through the fucking mud! Who senselessly kills for her own amusement! Pokémon, people, challengers, she just hurts and hurts and makes them bleed and she doesn't even care if she kills them because she just wants to fucking hurt something! She doesn't even see the difference, they're all the fucking same to her, like they're just there for her to destroy! The challengers, the Pokémon—"

Her fist blurred at her side.

"—her own sister—!"

And the mirror shattered.

Ugly spiderweb cracks crawling out from the dent her fist had made in the glass, frosty white and seeming to try and consume the reflective surface. Blood dribbled down from punctured flesh in dauntingly crimson rivulets, sinuous and serpentine, and Celestine couldn't tell if it was from the glass or from her nails biting into her palm.

A thousand reflections met the corners of her vision, prismatic and myriad. Their eyes blazed with blue light, the Infinity Cross—Aesith light, demihuman light. They glared at her, accusing, porcelain faces and ebony hair, beautiful but ethereal, unearthly. Blue eyes, blue eyes, the Goddess's gift. A private pack of judgemental bitches that flooded Celestine's peripheral vision.

She thought of Viola's green eyes—jade, jade, just like a scared little girl who had wandered off into the woods.

Celestine's entire body was trembling, her skeleton rattling around beneath her skin, her fury close bursting, and she knew her Aura was flaring, strong enough to fill the entire space. All around her, the air rippled and pulsed and choked her, attempting to contain her, to conceal her—the inhuman part, the supernatural part. The unnatural part. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing, her heartbeat ringing like the aftermath of a gunshot, blood boiling in her veins...and all she could see was resolute jade and deranged malachite, sisters on either corner of a vast arena before the air was rent by a murderous pincer and a bolt of dark lightning came down the divine judgement of a deranged god.

"I CAN NEVER FORGIVE SOMEONE LIKE THAT!"

She shoved Shauna—who was still stunned by the shattering mirror—and threw the door open with all the force of a bottled hurricane. The three remaining occupants all started and stared at her with wide eyes. They'd heard her. They must have. The walls were dangerously thin.

The blood on Celestine's hand was already cooling, skin sewing itself back up.

"Okay, LISTEN UP!" she snarled. "If ANY of you are entertaining notions about CHANGING MY MIND, just forget them RIGHT NOW. Either fucking STAY OUT OF MY WAY or I guarantee you you're going to SORELY REGRET IT."

She stormed—or perhaps "hurricaned" was a better word—over to the door before anyone could say anything and threw it open.

Calem.

His hand was poised to knock, and hung there awkwardly. He blinked, regarded her briefly—her flushed face and the expression of war that she'd painted on, the unearthly scintillation in her eyes and way with which she seemed ready to detonate into a maelstrom of fire and brimstone at a moment's notice—and his brows lowered slowly.

"Move," she hissed.

He stepped aside, and let her pass, without so much as a word.

Because he knew, and he understood.

Sort of.

Part of it, anyway.

She marched down the hall without another word, a woman on a warpath and the frontlines singing her name. Jade green flashed through her mind, and she knew without about that this would be enough.

Enough to draw his eye.

The "Good Doctor".

And he'd better be watching, because Celestine was about to give him a show he'd never forget.

She was the beacon, after all.

---

Calem took a quick inventory of the room. One Tierno and Trevor pair, one on the bed and the other sitting on the ground, with matching stunned expressions; one Serena leaning against the wall, arms crossed, with a brow wrinkled by intense worry; one rather distraught Shauna standing helplessly in the bathroom doorway; and one opened gift basket at the foot of the bed.

Yup, this screamed failed intervention.

He clucked his tongue and shot Shauna a sidelong glance as she closed the door, her shoulders trembling slightly. Oh, geez. That was not a good sign. Shauna wasn't the type to get this riled up this quickly, much less break down in tears. The hell had Lavieaux said to her? Tippy toes, Lafayette. Try not to upset her further.

Levity. Go for levity.

Calem attempted a smirk that felt very wooden. "So I take it didn't go well?"

That clearly wasn't the right call, though, because Shauna groaned and threw herself on the bed so hard she nearly bounced Trevor off. The ginger got up and sat down on the floor next to Tierno, shooting the brunette an indignant look, as Shauna grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it over her head.

Yeah. Really bad call.

"Shauna? You okay?" Calem mentally slapped himself a second later. She was clearly not okay. What was he saying, dammit?

"I just—!" Shauna shoved the pillow off as she straightened, her eyes glittering wetly. Oh, please don't be tears. Please, god. Calem was so terrible with crying girls. "I don't even know, okay? I just don't know."

And it was the sheer frustration coloring her tone that made Calem sigh as he closed the door behind him. Funnily enough, it took Shauna—Shauna! Mlle Optimism herself!—on the verge of a breakdown for him to realize that this was going to be messy as hell. You'd think he'd have figured that out before he came into the room.

"Maybe confronting her immediately was a bad idea," Tierno was saying as Calem made his way over to the bed and sat down next to Shauna, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. He didn't miss, though, how tired Tierno sounded, how weary. "Let's wait a couple days until she calms down a little, and if she hasn't come to her senses, I'll talk to her, okay?"

Shauna's shoulder was bony underneath his palm. She didn't resist as he tugged her a little closer. Ah, this brought him back. Middle school had been a nightmare and Shauna a subject of torment for her dark complexion and the funny accent she hadn't shaken back then. He'd spent many a night up in her room, an arm on her shoulder as she cried—and he'd just sat there, saying nothing, just touched her shoulder and let her know he was there.

This wasn't those times, though. This time, he didn't stay silent. Instead, he turned back to the room, steeling himself. "Can I make a suggestion?"

Tierno and Trevor both had a sort of listlessness in their gazes, like they were exhausted and had just stopped caring. Serena, on the other hand, watched him like a hawk, something about her gaze making Calem's skin itch. Shauna said nothing, taking deep breaths as she tried to keep herself from crying out of sheer frustration.

Eventually, Tierno sighed. "Yeah, sure, go ahead Cal."

Calem squeezed Shauna's shoulder. She had stopped trembling at the very least. "Before I say anything, promise first that you won't immediately get mad or dismiss it."

That set off some red flags almost immediately. Shauna looked up at him, a question burning in her gaze, and he looked at the floral bedsheets in order to avoid it. Because of that, he didn't get a good look at Trevs's, Tierno's, or Rena's reactions, but he doubted they were much better.

"What is it?" Shauna asked quietly, hoarsely.

These bedsheets were very interesting. Calem did not know poppies could be so fascinating, really. "I really do need you to promise that you won't get pissed."

"Talk first," Trevor said flatly, "then we'll see."

Very reassuring.

"Is that just you, or is that the consensus—"

Calem felt a hand grab the hand he'd placed on Shauna's shoulder and then slowly pry it off. He looked up, startled, only to be met by Shauna's probing green gaze. Calem swore to the Goddess there were times she could read his fucking mind, the way she looked at him.

"Just talk, Cal," Shauna said quietly. Her hand stayed on his wrist, the grip loose and relaxed.

...fine.

He sighed and took inventory again. Trevor had his face twisted into a dubious frown, and Tierno still looked tired but there was a glint of curiosity now. Serena's expression had smoothed out to something neutral and impassive, like she'd been carved out of marble, and Calem would be damned if that wasn't unusual. And finally, Shauna and her expression of exhaustion but nonetheless seriousness.

Here goes nothing.

"Try to think of Celestine like, like a bullet." This wasn't the best analogy, probably, but it was good enough. He'd thought it up on the way here and thus should not be judged if it was bad. "A bullet that was shot by an expert sniper at a long-range distance, more precisely. And because of the distance, the bullet needs just the right ratio of gunpowder and velocity. Your hearts are in the right place, and I'm not saying you're doing anything wrong—but what you're trying to do is put up walls of bullet-proof glass in the bullet's path. That's just gonna slow the bullet down and it's never going to reach its mark."

Calem paused, once again sweeping the room with his gaze. They watched and waited, breath bated.

"So, maybe instead..." He was not pausing for drama, but rather to brace himself for their reactions, thank you. "We should try to be gunpowder?"

"That's a terrible analogy," Trevor said immediately. And really, Calem should have expected that. While Trevor did restrain himself around strangers and usually kept to his own little meek corner, it certainly did not change the fact that Trevor had the capability of tearing someone's dignity to shreds if it suited him. Calem, having known the ginger for years, could attest to this. "That part with the gunpowder—that's not how guns work."

Was Calem used to this? Yes.

Was he expecting a response like this? Oh, definitely.

Did it still piss him off? Oh yeah.

"The point still remains." Calem forced himself to talk calmly, keep his tone neutral. Snapping would get him nowhere. Keep your temper in check. Diplomacy, Lafayette, diplomacy.

"Is the point that you don't know how guns work?" Trevor shot him a flat look that did not help his case whatsoever. "Like, what's this target you're talking about? Why's a sniper shooting the bullet? Why can't it just be a regular guy with a gun?"

Fuck diplomacy.

Calem whirled around to shoot Trevor a glare. "Then what sort of analogy would you suggest, oh master of the figurative?"

"Boys," Serena said sharply. Sharp enough to cut glass, mind you, and it made Calem pale. It wasn't that he was scared of Serena, per se, just that he still had some very vivid memories from his childhood in which she noogied him constantly, despite the fact that he'd been one year older and bigger than her, and once punched a bigger kid for making fun of her pigtails. No, he wasn't scared of her. He was just smart enough not to test her temper. After all, his Mère was her aunt, and that temper had to have come from somewhere else before it was passed down to Mère and Aunt Pénélope.

He looked over at the nearby wall and almost didn't notice when Shauna released his wrist, scooting back a little.

Almost.

"Let me get this straight," she said coolly. He could feel her gaze probing him, and pretended not to notice the way her eyes narrowed. "Are you actually suggesting we help Celestine in her suicidal mission to take down this Alexa lady?"

"...yes."

"Follow-up question: Are you absolutely nuts?"

Celestine owed him one, okay? She honest-to-Goddess owed him one for the way he was advocating for her side right now, please and thank you. Calem exhaled through his nostrils as he turned back to face Shauna. "No. I'm not. But thank you for questioning my mental faculties."

Her expression told him the sarcasm went unappreciated.

"Calem," Tierno said, causing Calem to swing around to face the dancer. Tierno's expression had gone hard, neutral, and he was clearly trying not to take sides here, ever the mediator.

"Celestine just challenged a Berserker. That's not a good idea."

"I realize that," Calem responded.

Tierno frowned. "But you're saying we shouldn't stop her."

Calem shrugged. "Hey, I already tried to talk her out of it. She wouldn't go for it."

"This is utter bullshit," Trevor blurted. "'She wouldn't go for it' my ass! If you really wanted to make an effort in dissuading her, you would have done so. Clearly, you didn't! Why?"

"Because I don't think she's suicidal."

Incredulous looks all around. Calem rolled his eyes. He swore, nothing he said was completely safe—and that was the way it was with your friends. They tried not to judge you, but you knew they were doing so internally, and while they tried not to show it, sometimes it slipped through. And they had the ability to judge you better than strangers because they knew you, and knowing you allowed them to tell you, quite conclusively, how insane you were going.

Anyway.

"Guys, I'm being serious," he said, before anyone else could pipe up with a decisive you're nuts. "Look, I'll be the first to admit that I don't like Lavieaux. I think she's cold and arrogant and unnecessarily condescending. But she also doesn't strike me as the reckless type."

Shauna scoffed. "You should have been with us in Santalune Forest, Cal."

"...reckless about something like this," he corrected. Calem was going to need more information on that later, though. "I know it may look suicidal from our perspective, but Celestine is a seasoned veteran. In order to battle properly, Trainers have to learn how to analyze everything in a split second. I think Celestine did the same when she saw that situation. She took it all in and made a split-second decision—but I don't think it was reckless."

"She challenged a Berserker," Shauna said forcefully.

Calem ran a hand over his face. "I'm not saying it wasn't insane. Just that it wasn't necessarily reckless."

Shauna didn't look convinced.

"Look. I'm not saying we should sit around doing nothing while Celestine goes on a training spree." He swept the room with his gaze, took stock for a third time. No one looked please, but at least they were listening. "I, for example, was planning on heading to Lumiose and digging a little deeper into Alexa's connections, try and figure out how she's keeping the League in the dark. Maybe I can even spur them to action."

Tierno's gaze brightened a little, and some of the exhaustion seemed to slip off his face. "Do you think that's possible?"

"I don't know. But it doesn't hurt to try, and I'll feel a lot better once the League at least knows what's going on." Calem turned back to Shauna. "In the meantime, Celestine is probably going to spend the next three weeks level grinding in order to prep for this match. She's not an idiot. She knows that, as her team is, she's outmatched. She knows her team's capabilities—she knows that she's going to need to spend every minute of the next three weeks training, and I think that's why she set that timeline. A Trainer knows their team."

"Even a team they've had for less than a week?" Trevor asked skeptically.

Calem shrugged. "Grand-père once said that a good Trainer can determine their Pokémon's capabilities within a matter of hours."

"He did say that..." came Serena's voice, a little listless. And it was weird to hear her speak up, suddenly, after being silent for so long.

"Anyway." Calem turned back to Shauna again and gave her a meaningful look. "Lavieaux is probably going to run herself ragged in the process. Someone needs to make sure she doesn't push herself too far and can still function properly once the battle date rolls around."

Shauna sighed. "You're talking about me, aren't you?"

"Yup."

"...I'll think about it."

Well, it was better than a flat-out no. Calem took that as a win.

He turned to Trevor and Tierno. "Gyms usually record matches, and some of the particularly intense ones end up on the League website. It's a small chance, but Alexa might not have stopped that. She hardly strikes me as the type to cautious. See if you can find any recent footage from the Santalune Gym after she took over. Tierno, you're good with movement patterns. Trevor, battle strategy. See if you can figure out Alexa's strategy, and go over it with Lavieaux. Help her form a plan that doesn't rely on brute force."

Trevor's brows arched. "Are you ordering us around, Lafayette?"

Calem shrugged. "It's just a suggestion."

"Very organized for a suggestion," Trevor said skeptically.

Calem pulled a knee up to his chest and started tapping on it. "I had some time to think on the way here."

"I can deal with coach duty, as long as Celestine's willing to accept our help," Tierno said, stepping in before an argument could break out. "But what about Serie?"

Serena peeled herself off the wall and crossed her arms. She started walking over to the side of the bed, to where the gift basket lay, seemingly forgotten. "Serie will be contacting the Professeur and hope he doesn't go ballistic when he finds out his old friend's daughter is rushing head-first into danger."

Calem blinked. Old friend's... daughter? "Wait, Sycomore knows Celestine's parents?"

Rena had knelt down in front of the basket and had started to sift through it—boxes of macarons, chocolates, and Poké Puffs—but Calem's comment made her pause. She glanced up, blinking, probably only just realizing her slip. "Oh, uh. Yeah. He knew her mère, like, back in college."

Calem's brow furrowed. If that was the case, Sycomore giving Celestine a license and a starter made much more sense now. Although, personal favors were still a little unethical. He wondered how he'd reacted to Lavieaux being Aesith, if he wasn't aware of the fact alre...ady...

It hit him, then. Really, he should have figured that Sycomore, being the sponsor of Lavieaux's Kalosian license, would have been aware of the fact that she was a demihuman. Truthfully, Calem hadn't really pondered her supernatural nature all that much. But, really, he should have connected the dots.

But no, what really hit him was the fact that Serena had to know, too. She had been the courier of Celestine's license and starter. Legally, she had to privy to that information—a law that was put into effect after one incident with an Aesith suicide bomber in Sinnoh a couple decades back—and she knew.

Not just that, but Serena hadn't returned to Lumiose yet. She had no reason to stay, really—unless she had been tasked monitoring Lavieaux's early progress.

Sycomore you sly SOB.

Serena stood, boxes of Poké Puffs cradled in her arms. "I'm going to take these to Celestine, too. These'll help her team out a lot."

"How so?" Tierno inquired.

Serena opened her mouth to speak, but it was Trevor who answered. "You know how there's a certain enzyme in Poké Beans that increases EXP gain?"

"I vaguely remember you rambling about something like that," Tierno answered in a warm, teasing tone.

"Well, ground Poké Bean powder is one of the main ingredients in Poké Puffs," Trevor explained. "So they, too, can increase EXP points if a Pokémon consumes enough of them. Though, the need to eat a lot, because of the dilution from the other ingredients."

"Thank you, Trevor," Serena said flatly.

Trevor shrugged, unapologetic.

Calem leaped off the bed and to his feet. "Mind if I go with you, Rena? I kinda... want to talk to Sycomore myself."

She blinked at him, bewildered. "Uh, why? What about?"

"A...thing."

"A thing?"

"Yes, a thing." Calem thought quickly. Dexes—Sycomore would be consulted about Dexes, yes? And with the Dexes came... "Like, with my ruleset—and stuff."

Serena looked even more befuddled, her brows furrowing, but she shrugged nonetheless. "Well, okay...I guess. Long as it's quick."

"Great!" he said brightly. He hooked the underside of her upper arm and started pulling her towards the door. "Let's go talk to him about that thing."

Once they were out in the hallway, Serena turned to him with a frown. "Why are you being weird?"

Calem shrugged, trying to stay calm while his mind raced. "No idea what you're talking about."

You knew Celestine was Aesith and you didn't tell me, he thought, a little bitter. Immediately, though, he corrected himself. Well, granted, it wasn't really your place to say anything, and it's not like I don't keep secrets from you but—what am I doing, I'm not even talking to you out loud.

So he just didn't say anything.

Before he knew it, they were both sitting in front of a vid-phone as it dialed Laboratoires de Sycomore. A cheery digital Porygon danced on the screen as the ellipse flashed rhythmically underneath, "loading" glowing brightly in several languages, some Calem recognized and some he didn't. The boxes of Poké Puffs sat at Calem's feet. Serena was leaned against the table where the machine sat, cheek in hand, and continually snatching not-so-discreet glances at him from the corner of her eyes.

"So, how about this?" she piped up, a little too chipper. "You ask your questions, and then take those boxes to Celestine. Sound good?"

Wow, she was not making it subtle that she didn't want him here. Calem offered a thin, sarcastic smile. "Sure."

Before Serena could respond, the screen blipped and an image of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed gentleman dressed in white, save for a dash of color from his blue necktie, appeared, a practiced smile adorning his handsome face. When he saw them, his gaze lit a little, and his smile became a little more genuine.

"Ah, Mlle Devereux. And M. Lafayette," Dexio Lafontaine said smoothly. Calem had met the senior Dexholder a couple times last summer, mostly when he delivered packed lunches that Rena had forgotten to her work. There was one occasion in which Calem had ended up staying at the lab for a couple hours, and had incidentally ended up late to work himself. "What a pleasant surprise. Should I contact the Professeur?"

"No, that's fine," Serena said with a dismissive wave before Calem could say anything. "Cal just had a couple questions about the rules the Professeur gave him. I was hoping you could answer them."

Dexio was smooth and professional and eternally poised as he answered in a clipped, "Yes, of course, how can I help you?"

"Oh, well it's really nothing." Calem leaned in a little, painting on a bright, shit-eating smile. "I just wanted to know if Sycomore was aware that his ward, an Aesith by the name of Celestine Lavieaux, had made plans to engage with a deranged Gym Leader that's abusing Transcendence."

Serena bucked in her seat, turning to him with eyes so wide they looked ready to burst out of her skull. Dexio, meanwhile, didn't quite react—the teeth in his smile disappeared into something tight-lipped and considerate, but his expression still remained politely neutral, and he hardly did more than blink.

"Should I contact the Professeur?" the Dexholder asked, still smooth and fluid and cordial.

Calem answered with a chipper, "That would be lovely."

Dexio smiled another thin, polite smile, said something along the lines of "one moment, please", and the screen cut back to the dancing Porygon with the words "transferring call" flashing underneath in a variety of languages. Meanwhile, Serena slumped back in her seat with a colossal sigh that seemed to drain her of all her strength.

"You know." It wasn't a question.

"I wouldn't have said that if I didn't," Calem replied coolly.

Serena crossed her arms. "And Alexa's really abusing Transcendence?"

He clucked his tongue. "Eeyup."

"That's why she..." Serena pinched the bridge of her nose, then ran a hand roughly through her bangs, her fingers curling into fists. She opened her eyes, and her gaze betrayed an odd mixture of realization and exhaustion. "That explains so much."

Calem quirked a brow. "You didn't pick up on that?"

"I wasn't there, Sherlock."

The memory of the Gym's ICU flashed across Calem's mind—sick and dying and gruesome injuries, thousands of bodies wrapped in gauze, all straining for room as the rooms were flooded with more and more victims. "Yeah. Be glad you weren't."

They lapsed into a tense silence. The Porygon on the screen chirped happily.

Calem cast her a sidelong glance. "Aren't you, like, studying to be a genius scientist or something? Aren't these the sort of connections you're going to have to make?"

Her lip twitched and she smacked his shoulder playfully. "Shut up."

The screen blipped again. Rather than Dexio, an older man appeared on the monitor, one with rumpled dark hair that had a faint threading of silver in its tangles and a jaw that looked as though it hadn't seen hide nor hair of a razor's business end for at least a week. A bleary grey gaze squinted at them as though looking through a haze—those little red capillaries against the white sclera and the deep shadows underneath his eyelids spoke of a poor night's sleep, or maybe a poor week's sleep. Crow's feet crinkled the corners of his eyes as his brows furrowed, and something like confusion flickered across his face before recognition set in.

"Serena?" Sycomore's speech was slurred a little. Calem noticed that the Professor wasn't wearing his lab coat like usual, and that his collar was both loose and crooked. The background, likely his office, was dim—the curtains were drawn. "That you?"

"Professeur?" Serena's voice came out thick with concern. "You're not hungover, are you?"

"Of course not," Sycomore snapped, his voice sounding garbled through the speakers. He placed a hand over his eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and pointer finger. "Lumiose's just... bright and loud today."

Calem clucked his tongue. "Bonjour, Professuer."

The man jumped and lowered his hand, blinking. He squinted, then his eyes widened, which gave him an almost crazed look. "Dear gods. Calem Lafayette. I didn't see you there."

I was literally sitting right here.

Sycomore cleared his throat and tried to sit up a little straighter, but he was still slouching. He twisted his mouth into something that was probably meant to be a charming smile, only to come out a little haphazard. "So, Dexio says you wanted to talked me about something?"

"Celestine's leveled a challenge against a Transcendence-abusing Gym Leader," Serena said, straight to the point.

Sycomore's face fell for a moment, and he blinked, uncomprehending. Then his expression dissolved into weariness, his entire frame sagging in his seat, as though whatever had been holding him upright had just clattered to the ground, useless. Slowly, the man raised his hand to his face and began to massage his temples, the action tugging his eyelids back a little. "Grande Déese ci-dessus, cette fille va être la mort de moi—she did what?"

Serena bit her lip. "Do you want me to repeat that, Professeur, or do you just need a moment to process?"

Rather than answer, Sycomore threw his hands onto his face and groaned deeply, which crackled through the speakers. Calem let out a sigh, casting Serena a sidelong glance. Sycomore was nice and all, but there were times Calem really pitied Serena for working under him—times like this when she probably would have ended up as no more than a glorified babysitter, had she remained in Lumiose.

Finally, the older man dropped his hands and looked straight at Calem, something incredibly serious in his gaze that he'd never seen in Sycomore before. "And I assume Celestine told you about her... you know."

Calem's lip quirked. He tried to speak slowly in order to accommodate the Professeur's—let's just say "compromised"—faculties. "Not in so many words. Though I did get a rather graphic view of her regenerative abilities."

Sycomore ran a hand over his face again. "So she's broadcasting it. Lovely. Serena, chérie, could you grab her for me, s'il vous plait?"

Serena winced. "She's not here right now, Professeur. She's off training—somewhere."

Another groan. "Of course she is."

"Professeur, if I may," Calem piped up, a little urgently. Sycomore's dulled gaze settled back on him. "The League is currently in the dark about this issue. I was planning a trip to Lumiose to do some digging as to why this might be, and to hopefully alert them on the matter."

"And you're planning to pop by?" Sycomore guessed, the left corner of his lip twitching, too sarcastic to be a smile.

"If it'll help, then yeah, I don't think it could hurt," Calem admitted.

Sycomore drummed his left hand against his desk. "Y'know what? It is way too early to deal with this sober. I'm going to get some vodka or something." He made a move to get up, though grunted as if it strained him greatly. "I'll be right back."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Serena said.

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to be sober when I talk to Monsieur Loo—" Sycomore paused, lips pursing, and he muttered something along the lines no, I shouldn't tell them that, then shook his head. "...I'll be right back."

Then he disappeared somewhere off-screen. Serena slumped onto the counter with a muffled groan. She didn't raise her head when Calem got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" she grumbled through the muffle of her forearm.

He knelt down and picked up the pastry boxes. "To find Lavieaux and deliver these Poké Puffs. I've said all I need to, so I'm going to take my leave—as I promised I would."

At this, she raised her head and glared at him through the veil of her fringe. "You're an ass, Calem."

"But you love me anyway." He patted her shoulder. "Good luck, Rena."

"You too."

---

"...and that's how we ended up challenging Alexa Dupuis for authority over the Santalune Gym," Celestine finished. She surveyed her team and their reactions. And... they weren't very positive. She bit the inside of her cheek, her left leg twitching with restlessness after sitting cross-legged for so long. "Any volunteers?"

Delphi's jaw had dropped, and now hung open like a yawning abyss as he blinked rapidly, trapped in the quagmire of an uncomprehending stupor. Tyler said nothing, but the look of complete and utter disbelief spoke volumes and made Celestine a little more than afraid to hear his actual thoughts. Tanner turned to Max and started chittering feverishly, though both their expressions were unreadable. Ray slowly crossed his arms, wincing when he aggravated the wound in his shoulder, which had not quite healed as well as Celestine had hope it would. Filling the silence was the perpetual roar of the Route Twenty-Two falls, thunderous and awe-inspiring. Celestine's hair was laden with crystalline water droplets from the mist the falls had kicked up over the last hour and a half—one hour to calm down after her fight with Shauna, and a half hour to properly brief her team.

Tyler broke the silence first.

"...are you absolutely insane?" he asked, at the same time Tanner exclaimed, "Hell yeah, I'm in!"

Celestine blinked at the elder Pidgey. "Seriously?"

"Are you quite mad?" Tyler demanded incredulously, as Tanner hopped forward, bold and unafraid.

Tanner shot the Psyduck a rather indignant glare and huffed, ruffling his feathers. "Look, newbie. I've heard of these 'Berserker types'. I've heard what they can do, what they like to do. I hate their fucking guts. This one uses Bugs. I'm a bird. It's a no-brainer."

Delphi's brow furrowed as he regarded Tanner with incomprehension. "I thought you said you hated Bugs."

"Exactly! Which is why it'll feel so good to tear 'em a new one," Tanner replied, his tone rife with determination.

"Mon bon oiseau, I think there is more at stake than a mere catharsis," Tyler retorted dryly.

Tanner unfurled one wing and feigned a dignified air, speaking in low, nasally voice that was a poor mimicry of Tyler's. "Oh, look at me, I know long words. I'm making fun of the Pidgey to look smart because I don't think he knows what 'catharsis' means. Oh, I'm so clever! Ahahaha!"

Celestine arched a brow. "Do you? Know what 'catharsis' means?"

Tanner froze, then wheeled around to glare at her with enough Pidgey fury to burn a hole through steel. "Hey, I don't ask you what words you know!" Before Celestine could formulate a proper response, he wheeled around to face Delphi. "Hey kid, you gettin' in on this?"

Delphi snapped his jaw shut, eyes widening and ears straightening. "M-Me?"

"Yeah. You. You're packing heat, y'know? You're a Bug's worst enemy." Tanner shot the Fennekin a meaningful look. "You being involved or not is probably going to make or break this whole thing."

Delphi's eyes widened further, to the point where Celestine could see the whites of his eyes around his irises. He turned to Celestine, ears flattening. "I-Is that true?"

Celestine bit the inside of her cheek again and said nothing. It was true, that a Fire-Type like Delphi was vital to her plan. That not having him on the team could be incredibly detrimental. That it did sort of hinge on him. It was true. It was very true.

She let out a breath. "I'm not forcing anyone to do this if they don't want to. It's your life that's being gambled, not mine."

"I thought you said this Alexa woman attacks Trainers as well," Tyler pointed out, skeptical.

Delphi winced. "Trainer's... she's Aesith, Monsieur Tyler."

Tanner whirled around to pin Celestine with a stare that said way too much. "Hold up. Aesith? Seriously?"

Celestine sighed and nodded. Tanner's eyes widened further.

"Ho-ly shit." He stared at her with newfound wonderment, and it made her admittedly uncomfortable. Celestine had heard that Aesith were sort of venerated in Kalos, but geez, that was not something she wanted to see on a regular basis.

Tyler, meanwhile, simply rolled his eyes. "Yes. I already figured that out, actually."

What.

No. Seriously. What.

Delphi's jaw had gone slack when he turned to the Psyduck. "You did?"

"The hell did you 'figure it out'?" Celestine demanded, three parts indignant and one part flabbergasted.

Tyler shrugged. "You are much taller than the average, Mlle. Not to mention the intensity with which you spoke. Aesith do tend to get involved in some rather spectacular situations. I'm guess one left its mark, oui?"

An electric jolt went through Celestine and her breath stuttered. She curled her hands into fists at her sides, grabbing several clumps of grass in the process. "Maybe I'm just tall and jaded. Ever think of that?"

"Statistically unlikely."

Celestine was about to fire off a scathing retort when Ray stepped forward, suddenly. He uncrossed his arms and held his paws out, as if waiting for her to give him something. Celestine eyed him for a moment, then, slowly, she relaxed her left hand and held it out for him to take. He flinched back, initially, but tentatively stepped forward again.

His hand-paws brushed her hand. Reticent, then with more confidence. He traced her palms and explored her fingers, searching, searching, searching—for what, Celestine couldn't say. Differences? Similarities? Both? The Panpour remained stoic throughout the exchange, head turned down as he continued to examine Celestine's hand.

Then he grabbed hold of it, and Celestine allowed her fingers to curl around his hands.

Ray glanced back up at her, expression as unreadable as ever, and his hands tightened around hers. Then, he shook it.

It took a moment for Celestine to understand what he was doing, what he was saying without words. "You want to help?"

Ray nodded.

Celestine's lip twitched into something that definitely wasn't a smile, thank you very much. "Well okay then."

"I'd like to remind you all that I put my hat in the ring first, thank you," Tanner announced, rather obnoxiously. Celestine didn't particularly think being the first to sign up for something like this was an accomplishment, but she didn't object.

"You're both mad," Tyler muttered.

Max chittered, oblivious. Tanner whirled around to respond in impassioned wild tongue. Whatever it was made Tyler roll his eyes, muttering something about overzealousness.

Delphi's gaze slid cautiously over to Celestine. "Are you... really doing this?"

Celestine unclenched her right hand and rested it over her legs. Ray was still clutching her left. "Yeah. But Delphi—no one's forcing you into anything. If you don't want to do this, you do have to. It's dangerous, it's messy, and in the end, it's your call."

Delphi's ears flatten. He didn't whimper, but he looked like he was going to. His gaze dropped to the ground and he shifted his paws, tail twitching.

"This is going to involve Transcendence, isn't it?" Tyler asked. His gaze was a little weary as he regarded Celestine, his shoulders slumping almost in defeat.

Celestine closed her eyes, allowing her vision to dissolve into warm ruby darkness. Well, there was really no point in hiding it now, was there? "Definitely."

For a beat, the only sound was the falls and the Pidgey chirping between themselves.

"I don't know how much help someone like myself will be," Tyler said slowly. Warily. Like he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. "I don't have a decided advantage on Bugs. My strengths lie in Water and a few choice Psychic attacks. But... I am willing to help. If I can, that is."

She opened her eyes a little, peering at him through the fringe of her lashes. The sun glinted off his waxy feathers, but highlighted the determined spark in his otherwise dopey gaze. "...arigato."

"I—" Delphi started, then stopped. His pelt glowed golden, cast a halo of light around him. His ears were pinned back, his eyes still trained on the ground, his paw working at the grass. She watched as his brows furrowed, and his expression set into something determined. "I want to help too."

"The kid's in too!" Tanner announced, before Celestine could respond. He waved a wing, as if in triumph, and behind him, Max chirped merrily.

The kid's in too—that's what Tanner said. Those exact words. Celestine squeezed her eyes shut, the red darkness angry and pulsing. Children. She was asking children to—

"You don't have to," she said quietly. "None of you have to. This is totally optional. I'll understand if you don't—"

"No," Delphi interrupted, his voice oddly steady. She didn't open her eyes, too afraid of what she'd see in his expression. "I want to. We're supposed to be partners, right? The starter and the Trainer. And partners do things like this together—the hard stuff. They stay by each other's side. So. I want to."

Tyler humphed. "I've just given you my support. Don't make me change my mind."

"Me n' the kid wouldn't agree unless we wanted to," Tanner said, almost insulted. Max chirped in agreement.

Ray squeezed her hand again.

Celestine opened her eyes. The sun was bright in her eyes. "Okay. Then let's train."

---

Tyler led them to a valley in the mountainside, where the ground was almost flat and the grass was so thick Celestine couldn't see her feet through the blades as she stood and the trees framed it almost like the bars of a jail cell. It made her feel enclosed and free all at once, and it was not a feeling she liked very much. She tried to distract herself by criticizing her team's ability to run laps.

"Pick up the pace, Delphi!" she called from the center of the valley, cupping a hand around her mouth. The Fennekin was running the perimeter, with Tanner and Max trailing him from above. Tyler was laying down near where she'd set her bag down, panting from exertion—Psyduck weren't made for running, so she'd allowed him to drop out after the first five laps, but she'd made it very clear that he would have to make up for it in the later exercise. Ray perched on her shoulder, having exacerbated his wound while running laps, and, once again, had been excused.

Delphi was a golden blur through the grassy thicket, but she could see that he was slowing down. "I'm trying!"

She was planning to join them later, but it seemed they'd have to work on endurance first. It clearly wasn't one of Delphi's strong suits. The same could be said for Max, who was lagging, which Celestine chalked up to his youth Tanner was the only one maintaining a steady pace.

I wonder if he's done this before. Celestine thought back to Santalune Forest, when Tanner condensed his Sand-Attack, and how he seemed to have a knowledge about the human world that a lot of wilds lacked. ...maybe he's had a Trainer before?

A yelp from behind interrupted Celestine's train of thought. She whirled around to see Calem, of all people, standing at the edge of the clearing, with several white boxes stacked in his arms, for whatever reason. Delphi stood nearby, muscles coiled defensively, his entire pelt fluffed up and his eyes huge, ear-tufts radiating heat.

"You stepped on my tail," Delphi accused, punctuating each word with a pant. The laps had really worn him out

"Sorry!" Calem exclaimed quickly, apologetically. "I didn't see you there!"

The Trainer paused, then immediately ducked just as Tanner and Max whizzed over his head. He followed them with his eyes for a moment, looking pleasantly bemused, before turning back to Celestine and shrugging. Delphi cast a frown at Calem's back before slumping down on the grass, breathing heavily.

Calem's expression changed into something like amusement as he approached. "Starting the daily grind already?"

Celestine frowned at his tone. It sounded teasing. She didn't do teasing. "What do you want?"

"Ideally?" Calem quirked a brow, then hummed thoughtfully. "Something to do with caramel, probably. Can't get enough of that stuff."

"That's...not what I meant."

"Oh. You meant from you, specifically." Calem clucked his tongue. "You should really be more specific, Lavieaux."

"Calem." She wasn't in the mood to play games.

He flashed her a condescending smile and held the boxes out. "I believe these are yours. They were in your gift basket—I'm still not sure where you got a gift basket, but nonetheless, these are yours."

Frowning, she accepted them. From her peripheral, she caught Tyler sitting up with a grunt. Ray peered down at the boxes, intrigued, as she arched a brow. "Is this your way of making sure I eat something?"

"Actually, eating these'll make you sick," he said nonchalantly. "If you really want to, though, I won't stop you."

She glared.

"Ever heard of Poké Beans?" he asked.

Celestine frowned, thinking. That definitely sounded familiar. "...they're Alolan, aren't they?"

"They have an enzyme that can increase EXP gain," Calem explained. "And they're a prime ingredient in Poké Puffs."

Celestine blinked. Then stared down at the boxes in her arms. "So you're saying—"

"They have to eat a lot of them," Calem said, before she could finish. "But you have enough to spread them out over the next three weeks"—his gaze flickered around the field, taking stock of her team—"between your team of five."

Her grip on the bottom box tightened. He didn't need to deliver these. Yet, he had. "Ah. Thanks."

"No problem. Also..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rectangular device that greatly resembled an oversized computer chip with a screen slapped on, all the wires and circuitry hanging loose, protected only by a thick, sheer plastic shell. It sported a small, detachable compartment on the left side filled with what looked like a dozen or so little silver pellets, all the size of marbles. What looked to be a pair of sunglasses was sheathed in a pocket that had been sown onto the underside. Calem held it out towards her, like an offering. "I'm lending you this."

"Wow," Celestine deadpanned as she eyed the hodgepodge contraption. "It's everything I've ever wanted. How did you know?"

"This is a ST device, Lavieaux."

Celestine stared at him flatly. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

It was his turn to arch a brow. "You don't know what Super Training is?"

"Am I not being obvious enough?" She eyed it again. Really, it looked like something Dr. Frankenstein had whipped up after a game of marbles at the beach. "Is it supposed to be helpful?"

Rather than answer her directly, Calem pressed a button that caused the tiny screen to flare to life, alighting in a painfully bright shade of teal. Welcome to SUPER TRAINING! declared the screen in big, bright letters that changed color at a pace so rapid it made Celestine's eyes hurt. Three options where listed beneath, all with their own bubbles, all colored specifically to be a pain to look at directly: Start Programme (neon red), Register New PKMN (highlighter yellow), Check Current Progress (electric blue).

"Sorry for the tacky coloring," Calem said as he tapped the neon red bubble. "This is a beta of the real thing that a... friend—loaned me to test out. It's a little slower than the one you'll find in stores, but it pretty much operates the same way."

The screen changed, with the words Please select a programme type headlining in blocky white text. Below that was a list of options: Single, Double, Multi, Demo. As Celestine arched a brow, Calem tapped the "demo" option. From there, a second list popped up, this one with the headline, Which program would you like to demo?
—Punching Bag
—Balloon Bot
—Augmented Bot

"See those little bubbles in the top left corner?" Calem pointed at the little blue dots that were, indeed, in the top left corner. Little question marks adorned them. "If you press those, you'll get a detailed explanation of the programme. They're all executed differently, but they all do the same thing: boost stat totals."

She blinked. Then blinked again. Turned to him in shock. "Are—Are you serious? This does that?"

"The future is now, thanks to science," Calem said cheekily. If that meant something to him, it was lost on Celestine. "But yeah, basically. Once your Pokémon is registered, the ST device subtly manipulates the data to create a sort of augmented reality for the just the Pokémon involved in the programme. These glasses"—he tapped the pouch underneath—"allow you to see the same simulation, which'll allow you to direct your Pokémon better. They glitch and freeze, sometimes, but an Aesith who can properly utilize Transcendence like yourself can probably find a way around that."

Was that supposed to be a snide? It felt snide. Celestine decided it was snide.

"The punching bag thing just creates a virtual punching bag," Calem continued, tapping on the question mark located on the Punching Bag option. "The thickness and shape depends both on the stat you're trying to increase and the level, which is how much the stat will increase by once the punching bag is destroyed. You can get higher-leveled options by competing in the other options." Calem tapped at the compartment of pellets. "These are 'balloon bots'. They may not look like much now, but once you select a level and stat, it'll deposit one of these pellet things. You have to throw it on the ground to activate it, but it'll essentially take the shape of an inflated dummy. Only, it moves in place, and it's pretty damn durable, save for a few choice weak spots.

"The augmented reality part comes in again, and it's more engaging than the punching bag option because not only does the Pokémon attack, but the dummy 'attacks' back. Those attacks don't do physical damage, but there is a threshold for how many you can take before you fail. You can also add the timer option to give yourself more of a challenge and increase your yield."

"What happens to the dummy when you beat it?" Celestine asked. Ray was leaning over to eye the screen with some fascination, and she heard Tanner's wingbeats before she felt him perch atop her scalp. At this point, it didn't really phase her anymore.

"It deflates and becomes useless. Thankfully, it's also biodegradable, so you can just leave it in the woods or whatever." Calem shook the device a little, causing the pellets to rattle around. "You can buy more at the Poké Mart for dirt-cheap prices. Or, you can just use the augmented option, which is entirely augmented reality. But it glitches every now and again. The single option is just one Pokémon, the doubles option allows to Pokémon to team up. Multi is everything beyond two and is meant to include up to six, but I don't recommend going past three otherwise it the program freezes for three minutes, then crashes. If that ever happens, just turn it off for five minutes, and then turn it back on. If you need to charge it, it's solar powered."

"That's rather detailed," Celestine remarked.

"I know this thing like the back of my hand." He hit a back key, which brought the device back to the main screen, after which he pressed the Register New PKMN option. "Can you grab your team so I can register them?"

"Sure." Celestine turned and trotted over to where she'd placed her bag. Tyler was sitting up, now, his breathing having evened out, and Max and Delphi had joined him, both still panting.
As she knelt down, setting the boxes aside in favor of her bag, Tanner hopped down.

"So what's going on?" Delphi panted as Celestine retrieved her Chain.

Celestine unclipped it from the side of her bag, holding up the tinkling circlet to the light. "He's... helping us out."

"Did you guys make up?"

"Sorta." She caught Tyler trying to take a peek under the lid of the top box, only to freeze when he noticed her glare, and, gradually, inch back. Celestine narrowed her eyes. "If I find even one crumb missing, it's twenty laps for all of you. Got it?"

There was a simultaneous "yes ma'am", which left Celestine a little satisfied, admittedly. She stood back up again and made her way back to Calem, who accepted the Chain without a word.

He pressed a button and a pale blue light shot out from the right side to scan the Chain, wandering over each Ball, probing, scanning, for about thirty seconds each ("Sorry, this thing is really slow," Calem told her apologetically. "It's fine," Celestine said with a shrug.). When it dissipated, the screen changed to say LOADING... in big, blocky letters.

ALERT! flashed the screen, and Celestine's hackles rose. PKMN are registered under a different license. If you choose to register these PKMN, current account must be deleted.

Delete USER: CALEM? Y/N

Calem clicked Y.

Please enter new account name.

Calem handed the device to Celestine. "All yours, Lavieaux."

The screen had changed to a keyboard, but it appeared that the space was limited to no more than six characters. Celestine accepted the device and keyed it in.

C-E-L-E-S-T-E.

Enter.

Registering new PKMN... Please wait...

Welcome USER: CELESTE! Would you like a free demo?

Calem crossed his arms. "Alright. I leave the rest to you."

Celestine looked up from the screen, blinking. "Eh?"

"I'm heading for Lumiose, to see if I can get the League involved," he explained.

"You're still on that?"

"'Course." He paused, his lip quirking to the side. "I also talked to Shauna and the guys. I can't guarantee they'll help you, per se, but they definitely won't try to stop you."

Oh. Sacred Birds. She honestly hadn't expected him to go this far. "Arigato. You—didn't have to do all this, really."

He arched a brow.

"I mean. The Puffs, the thingy"—she gestured to the ST device—"and then talking to— You really didn't have to."

Calem shrugged. "Well, we're all on the same side. But don't get me wrong, Lavieaux. You owe me, big time."

"Of course." She shouldn't have expected anything less.

"And I'm only lending you the device," he continued. "I fully expect it to be returned in perfect working order."

"Gotcha." She paused, tapping the right edge against her palm. "Erm. Good luck in Lumiose?"

He nodded once. "Good luck in Santalune."

And with that, he shoves his hands in his pockets, turned around, and walked away.

Celestine took a deep breath and turned back to her team. They all watched, expectant. She ran a finger over the rim of the device. "Okay, team, let's get back to training."

---

Current Team:

Delphi, Male Fennekin (Lv 9)
Docile, Takes plenty of siestas
Ability: Blaze
Moves: Scratch, Tail Whip, Ember
Met: Vaniville (Aquacorde) Town

Max, Male Pidgey (Lv 8)
Naïve, Very finicky
Ability: Tangled Feet
Moves: Tackle, Sand Attack
Met: Route Two

Ray, Male Panpour (Lv 8)
Quiet, Likes to relax
Ability: Gluttony
Moves: Scratch, Play Nice, Leer, Lick
Met: Santalune Forest

Tanner, Male Pidgey (Lv 8)
Hasty, Scatters things often
Ability: Tangled Feet
Moves: Tackle, Sand Attack
Met: Route (Three) Two

Tyler, Male Psyduck (Lv 8)
Naughty, Proud of his power
Ability: Damp
Moves: Water Sport, Scratch, Tail Whip
Met: (Route Twenty-Two) Santalune City

---

Author's Note:

Whoo boy! Fell into a bit of a slump halfway through writing this, but oh boy.

I betcha thought I was going to just skip to the Gym battle, huh? Nope, not this run. This is going to include fallout, aftermath, character development, and grinding sessions, so. Yeah.

So, I've occasionally alluded to this "Beladonis" figure, and yes, he is important. I'm honestly surprised no one's picked up on it yet.

And hey! Celestine and Calem mended fences! Sort of! Now I can write them not antagonizing each other at every turn! Thank god! I actually moved up the apology a little, but I'm very satisfied with how this chapter turned out, like, honestly. It was cathartic to finally get it out. And Calem's actually fun to write now.

Yes, I came up with explanations for Super Training and Pokemon Amie. Sue me.

Oh look, Sycomore! Hi there Professor, how's your hangover treatin' you? I'm glad I finally got to introduce him.

French translations:
- Grande Déese ci-dessus, cette fille va être la mort de moi = great Goddess above, that girl is going to be the death of me.
- Mon bon oiseau = My good bird

From this moment onward, however, there won't be anymore weekly updates, as I am currently working on the next chapter. I cannot guarantee anything about the next time a new chapter comes out, so I ask that you all be patient in the meantime.

That's all for now! Until next time,
Luna