Ascension Chapter 6: ACT1CH6 - Shellder's Showdown, a pokémon fanfic

Ascension

ACT ONE - IMMOLATION

Chapter 6 - Shellder's Showdown

"Come on, Mawile. Don't be so bitter. Just eat it. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day after all."

Mawile huffed, pushing the bowl of pokémon food away. Seriously, she was beginning to hate this city. Back when they were in Pallet, she had Red's undivided attention and could bask in it as much as she wanted. But ever since they had gotten out of the river, every single incident had only caused issues between them. It had started with that inconspicuous, but useless mute Shellder. Come to think of it, she should have just thrown it back into the water when she had the chance. But she hadn't.

And it had grown to be a pain in the jaw, of epic proportions— it was so clingy, always being attached to some part of his body. Not only that, when it came to training it always stole away Red's attention when creating illusory forms. Mawile had heard enough from Red about how shellder had almost zero learning potential, so of all the shellder in the world, why did Red have to catch some kind of Double Team savant? Mawile felt like Shellder was trying to undermine the rest of its species just by doing that.

"At least try the others. I even added figs and nuts this time. You know, your favorite."

DON'T CARE! Mawile yelled furiously within her mind, still sticking to her scowl. She'd thought that after a spectacular victory against that vicious ursaring, she'd get back to the Pokémon Center, and more importantly, to her secret stash. She had been happy gobbling up the poképuffs she had rescued from that mean, old nurse at the reception, only to find that they tasted a little like… dirt.

Come to think of it, storing all those poképuffs inside a tree pot might not have been the best idea after all. Though, it wasn't like she had any alternatives. She was improvising.

That was why she had emptied the entire pot, and lifted up one of tile plates on the room's floor, finding a tiny contraption beneath it. It wasn't too big, but enough to hold the poképuffs for the time being, until she was able to improvise some more.

And then the very next morning, Red had told her— AFTER getting out of the Center —that they had overstayed, and thus, had to leave the room for the other trainers. Obviously, it was of no difference, since he had a perfectly fine tent for himself.

Mawile had not cried. Mawile had not sobbed.

For the next ten seconds.

And then, she had broken down into heart-wrenching misery. All her deception, all her sacrifices, had yielded nothing. Nothing.

Every single day she had used her cuteness to go with the nurse and steal a few poképuffs, making sure to take only a little at a time so she would be unnoticed, and put them back into her secret stash. It wasn't like any good would come out of keeping those delicacies trapped inside that large jar. Those poképuffs were splendid and deserved to be eaten. In fact, trapping them away inside large jars were pretty much a crime when they would better serve as food for others— pokémon like herself. So, in her eyes, she had only delivered judgment, upon the nurse for being inattentive towards her charges.

Over the duration of their ten-day stay at the Center, her stash had grown bigger, larger. Of course, you could never have enough poképuffs, but there were certainly more than the previous days. But still, perhaps all hope hadn't been lost, and perhaps they could reclaim that room, and she could reclaim her stash.

Unfortunately, despite Mawile's all-encompassing knowledge of the world, she had yet to learn about Murphy's Law.

One day after she had been forced to abandon the poképuffs at the Center, Red had received a text from the Viridian Pokémon Center, asking him to pay a visit within the next three days. Flummoxed by the odd text, Red had taken a stupidly-happy Mawile back to the Center. And that was when things had started to go all wrong.

That was two days ago.

"You know that pouting won't change the fact that you did steal them in the first place. You should be happy that I'm not as angry with you as I should be."

Mawile glared at her trainer. Truly Red had a poor grasp of the concept of belongings. If she found a den, it became hers. She wouldn't be giving it out to someone who had perhaps found it first. After all, the former must have been uncaring, or else, they would not have left the den free for others to find.

It was the same for the poképuffs. If the Nurse really wanted them all to herself, then she should have buried them underground, away from prying eyes, like Mawile had so effectively demonstrated. To openly display such a treasure was equivalent to inviting others to rob her.

"Making faces will not help your case. Not only did you steal the poképuffs, you even stole the potted tree at the entrance."

Mawile frowned. How else was she supposed to sneak out the poképuffs? The tree was a splendid distraction. Red should have been praising her. Wasn't this an example of the distractionary and deceptive tactics that Red went on and on about?

" Then you made a hole underneath the room floor and buried the poképuffs. In the ground. What were you thinking?" Red whispered furiously.

She was, from what she remembered, thinking that hiding the puffs in the plant's pot was too suspicious. After all, she had never shown any interest in gardening before. Most plants tasted yucky. But even so, it was an outrageous accusation. Mawile didn't make any holes. The hole existed beneath the floor. She just lifted up one of the tiles and found it.

"You should be glad that the nurse was nice enough to just give us a scolding and let us leave. If she had fined us, we'd have been in a lot of trouble. Three thousand isn't a joke."

"Skar?"

Oh yes. We were waiting for your highness to voice your opinion. Mawile thought ruefully, scowling as she pushed herself towards the extreme right, and sat with Red and Skarmory now behind her. At least looking at the blank canvas of the tent was a better option than trying to convince her dopey—

"Shill!"

Mawile blinked, finding the mute right in front of her. Apparently it was sitting behind her all this time. Almost cautiously, she stared into the mute, wondering for one second what existed in the eternal darkness that lay within Shellder's shell.

SWURRRRP!

Shellder extended out his long, crimson tongue and licked Mawile. Well, one could argue it was less of a licking and more of a sweeping-her-face with its salivary juices.

"MAAAAWAAAA!" Mawile yelled in agonizing frustration, screaming her way out of the tent.

Shellder squeaked, silently wondering what had gotten into its companion. Perhaps she had realized that her chances of becoming 'Shellder' were not very good? She didn't exactly have a long tongue after all.

Five years ago

Skarmory crouched, her instincts warning her from going out amidst the powerful hurricane that raged outside the safety of her cave. As someone who lived above the rest of the populace below, she couldn't help but feel disappointment surging through her veins. It was both hilarious and insulting how a weather phenomenon managed to tear down every illusion of hierarchy and power the creatures on Earth had. At any other time, she'd have claimed all of this as her own. The vast greenness of the grasslands spanning for several hectares, the forests that ran abound on the slopes of Vortigern, before disappearing into the hillocks along the lower ranges. She and her grandfather lived atop the tallest cliff of the Vortigern Range, a seat above anyone else.

Standing at nine and a half feet tall her grandfather was the largest predator in the sky. Neither the rebel rhydon of the bohemian packs nor the plebeian fighting-types of the forest or even the chieftain nidoking of the nidoran herd could challenge him. Even the mighty onix inside the mountain, who had survived several centuries in silent dormancy, respected her grandfather's might. This was the Vortigern Range, known by the humans as the Fuchsia Reserve, but for her, this was the place where she lived, under the rule of her grandfather. The King of Vortigern.

Another flash of bright blue light as electricity streaked through the night sky, and amidst the roaring gale, Skarmory recognized the flash of silver-large wings spanning over eight feet on either side, casting an imposing figure, enough for the Chieftains of other herds to look up to him with awe and respect. They called him Vortigern, after the very mountain itself.

'Someday, they'll respect me just like him.' Skarmory told herself.

The streaks of silver appeared over and over, as if the very winds were trying to illuminate her grandfather's presence. Skarmory pushed her long neck outside, just in time to feel the gust that accompanied with every single flap of his wings. With a mighty screech, Vortigern descended down at the precipice, right in front of her cave.

"Youngling, I thought you hated storms. Why are you outside in such perilous weather?"

Skarmory lifted her head. She had seen seven monsoons as far as she could remember, and hated every one of them. Her tiny, metal body experienced difficulties in trying to maneuver against the powerful gales during the thunderstorms, and her coating wasn't durable enough to resist. Pellets of rain hit her body at incredible speeds, which was why the royal grand-daughter of the king stayed within the confines of her cave for most of the season.

"If the rain scares me, then how will I ever become king?"

Her grandfather laughed. "You have several, several monsoons before that can happen. You have to grow strong, and fight your way from the populace below to assert your authority over them."

"But I already have authority over them. They know you are the king."

The older avian laughed. Perhaps it wasn't time yet. "In time, you'll have to assert your own power over them. Independent of my own. You'll have to learn how to lose and stand up again and again, until you achieve victory. Though you have many monsoons ahead of you before that happens, and who knows, you might choose the path of your father— choosing to travel the world with humans, and carve out his own path of conquest. You have a great destiny, bigger than the Vortigern. And to achieve it, you might have to travel past Vortigern itself."

"I'll never do that." Skarmory refuted. She had grown up watching her grandfather rule the world that was the Vortigern range. In her mind, choosing to step down from that position to travel around the world with humans was lowly, and not something worthy of her pedigree. Perhaps those humans had done something nasty to her father, or perhaps he had simply been that naive and gullible, but Skarmory was not.

Skarmory was strong. She was dedicated and determined. She'd rise in the shadow of Vortigern himself, and then someday, take his place.

And no human would ever deviate her from her destiny.

Present Day

Skarmory witnessed the interaction between her trainer (retainer according to her) and that amusing creature known as a Mawile with a mixture of amusement and interest. From her own experience with the humans taking care of the Vortigern population, humans weren't that bad— well not all of them anyway. The medics often came along with the other caretakers, checking the population for injuries or illnesses, and then injecting them with the proper remedies. Besides, she had taken the decision to travel with a human for a reason, and she wasn't someone who went back on her word.

She dug into the raw steak with relish, consuming it without further delay. At the very least, Red wasn't one of those humans that forced their pokémon to feed on food-supplements or whatever they were called— tiny morsels of half-baked vegetables that tasted mostly edible on a good day and were all-around awful unless someone knew how to make them tastier. Skarmory had often chosen to decline the food offered by the humans, preferring to hunt for tastier prey in the wild. The years had been good to her. She had grown from her tiny, frail self into a sturdy avian with a thick sheet of metal coating every inch of her body. No longer did she fear the rains, or thunderstorms. Of course, she was far from growing out of her grandfather's imposing shadow, but she was her own person. Her wings had grown over five feet on each side, and she stood at a whopping seven feet at present. There was no hurry. She was certain that in time, she'd surpass her grandfather in height and power.

Time itself would be her witness.

From what she understood about her company, Red traveled the path of the king. He was a human who had grown in the shadow of a great man and was aspiring for greatness himself, in hopes of surpassing his mentor in due time. Skarmory could empathize with that, having experienced the same, quite intimately one might say. That left the little water-type, that mostly seemed content to chew Red's hair or fingers from time to time— an amusing if somewhat concerning behavior in her eyes —or experimenting with those illusory forms of itself. She had been surprised and downright envious at the obvious level of control the Shellder had on the technique.

It should not come as a surprise that she bullied Red into getting her the TM as well.

Of course, she had yet to determine the strength and fortitude of her trainer and her subordinates (the mawile creature and the water-type— Shellder, she remembered). She wanted to see where they stood compared to her, and if her personal strength would suffer against any challenges in this… humanized world. Though she had yet to fight a creature of strength and skill superior to herself since Red hadn't put her through dangerous battles.

It was surprising. She'd thought that humans liked nothing better than to run their captured pokémon through the grinder. Skarmory would have had problems with that, if not for the fact that she knew it produced results. She had left the mountains to grow strong and now she was worried that they weren't training enough.

As for the mawile creature, Skarmory had found her to be a deceitful, little thing. Her powers at sensing the elements or the esoteric were hardly on the level of her grandfather, but she knew a fairy when she saw one. Humans were pretty easy to charm, and Red was quite captivated by the mawile creature's demeanor. Obviously, there was no wrong in that. The mawile creature was tiny, and from what Skarmory understood, her sole weapon was the large jaw protruding out of its head. It also served as a mouth for digesting larger prey. The mawile creature was a perfect example of an underdog trying to survive in a world of ferocious and powerful behemoths, much like she was, back in her adolescence. Only, she herself had been a naive little idiot, and this mawile creature was very good at deception.

Either way, Skarmory decided to make it clear with the mawile creature. She was on the team now, and one of Skarmory's subordinates, which meant that she'd no longer require to employ deception to survive. With Skarmory beside her, the mawile creature would need to learn to snatch whatever she wanted directly. Such was the way of the king after all.

With that thought in her mind, Skarmory let out a soft screech, flapping her wings as she went after Mawile.

Red watched her leave with a soft smile. It was good to see some bonding between his pokémon.

Perhaps Skarmory will be able to explain to her why stealing is wrong,

An automatic scowl appeared on Mawile's face as she sensed the flapping of wings nearby. The blasted avian was here. Shellder could handle— one slap of her jaw, and it'd be sent flying. The huge, metallic avian was a different matter altogether. A sharp slap, hell a full-fledged Iron Head would barely cause a dent on her body, while a single slash from those sword-barrels she called wings, and Mawile would be a goner. While she acknowledged the tremendous development humans made in the field of healing, no amount of medicine could cure death. Or stupidity for that matter come to think of it.

Mawile might have been Red's starter, and she might have been responsible for winning him everything he had so far while on his journey. Hell, it was Mawile's precious victory over the Ursaring that had caused Red to even get Skarmory in the first place, but that didn't change the fact that Skarmory was larger. Skarmory was faster. She could fly, and Mawile could not. Skarmory had a vastly superior and durable body while Mawile had to make sure to avoid getting so much as a scratch. Skarmory had incredible stamina, while Mawile had to make every single attack count. At the very least, Mawile wished she could have boasted on the power and strength of her steel jaw. But Skarmory was practically an avatar of steel— what with the way the thick layers of the metal seemed to be wrapped around her, like a protective enchantment to keep her from harm.

Is this how it feels to be outclassed? With Skarmory, Red would be able to achieve victories against powerful creatures. My win against that bear wouldn't even count. Will I be…?

For one moment, she felt a growing emptiness all around her. It was like the tent had vanished. Red too, had vanished. Everyone had vanished. There was only Mawile, sitting at the edge of the river. Or a precipice atop a steep cliff.

Will I be… be left behind now?

The sound of the wings beating grew closer and Mawile felt her scowl deepen further. Truth be told, while she was bitter about losing her poképuffs, what she feared even more was that she'd be losing Red's attention as well. It was one of the reasons she threw up temper tantrums, just so that Red would tend to her, and give her the attention she deserved. Gods, she felt so clingy at times.

The loud, boisterous screech immediately alerted her to the presence of the avian behind her. Her scowl disappearing, she turned out, replying back in her own tongue. "Yes, I'm the mawile creature. What do you want?"

Skarmory flapped her wings a few times, before settling on a good, solid spot on the ground. Folding her wings, she crooked her long neck downward at the fairy, crooning in a soft tone, or at least, as soft as her vocal cords allowed, "You seem to feel… out of place. Being my subordinate, this is unacceptable. It is my duty to help you realize the unvarnished truth of your situation."

Mawile felt a violent urge to ignore all of the self-preservation instincts that were screaming at her to maintain her calm. There was no way, absolutely no way to win against this arrogant beast. She'd simply need to digest whatever insults she threw at her, and keep herself alive.

Dying would be counterproductive. Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

"What do you mean.. Help me realize the… unvarn... The truth?"

"Unvarnished truth," Skarmory repeated imperiously. "The utter and complete truth. You are tiny, so of course you're a plebeian. I forgive you."

Mawile felt her left eye twitch.

"And that is?"

Skarmory had a pleasant expression on her face. "You are approaching things in the wrong way. You employed deception and failed in the act. Of course, your being tiny and helpless might have led to this method of survival, but now you are my subordinate, and hence, I believe you should instead… take what you want."

Mawile blinked. Several times. "Come again?"

Skarmory almost frowned. "Take. Whatever. You. Want. " She spoke as if talking to a small child. Then again, tact for was plebeians, and as befitting a future ruler, it was her duty to always speak the complete truth at all times for her subordinates. Also, Mawile was tiny, so she counted as a child anyway.

Mawile considered her opinion. Despite the overly arrogant tone, the Skarmory had come to offer her advice. Yes, it was in a round-about, overly boisterous and self-serving fashion, but it was advice nonetheless. "And how do you… I mean, I… do that?"

Skarmory smiled lethally. "I knew you showed promise. The art of snatching involves using your power to take from others. This nurse, for example, the one that kept you from your poképuffs, she is a human and is therefore weak. You have my support. You should fight and get them back, just like you deserve."

Mawile pondered over the matter. She liked the idea of taking whatever she wanted, but she wasn't Skarmory, with her giant steel body. Maybe she'd have to start small first. Shellder did seem like a weakling and probably couldn't retaliate even if she did steal its food. And serves it right for always stealing Red's attention while doing basically nothing. The idea of snatching away Shellder's food away did feel good.

Her jaw shook agreeably.

Oh, come on. Mawile groaned inwardly. Perhaps Skarmory was a bad influence on her jaw? She'd need to get to the depth of the matter. But that was for later.

Snatching Shellder's food was of higher importance. Yes, she could totally see Shellder squeaking and wailing as she munched upon the delicious meal that could have been Shellder's but his attitude had gotten him what he deserved and—

"Mawile, Skarmory!" Red's voice tore through her reverie. "It's getting late. We should try to get in a couple of hours of training before lunch."

Mawile scoffed. Really now, one shouldn't interrupt her like that. She could lose some really fantastic ideas in the process.

"I've been thinking… we've been in Viridian City for quite some time and…" he glanced at Skarmory, "It is time we progress further. Pewter City is closest, roughly a week's journey from here. Also, Pewter is rich in iron ore."

Mawile's jaw shook… agreeably, one might say. Skarmory hollered at that. Iron ore was always welcome. They could use it to purify, strengthen and repair their steel parts. While they were not required to consume inordinate amounts of steel like Steelix or Aggron, it was still welcome since the metal directly enhanced existing layers, making them stronger.

"Yes, yes, we are heading for an eat-all-you-want buffet in Pewter, but there's the Viridian Forest before that to consider. The road travels along the periphery, and that's why it takes so much time— a week and a half even if I were to rent a cycle or something. And I'm not sure if flying over the forest is an option."

He glanced at Skarmory cautiously, waiting for a reaction, who shook her head.

"...right. Well then, we can always travel through the forest. I mean, there's always a chance of getting lost, but Skarmory can probably help there"— Skarmory screeched in agreement —" and there are hordes of bug pokémon around. I'm not talking about just caterpie. The old man told me there are groups of pinsir deep inside the forest grounds, and anything pokémon that can survive in that kind of environment is bound to be dangerous as well." He paused. "Taking the long path would safer, but it'd be a boring week, and I really want to try our power against some of the wild pokémon in the deeper sections of the forest. Obviously we wouldn't go in too deep, and nothing short of a Pinsir should even be able to get through Skarmory's armor. Also, most of the predators there tend to feed on the smaller bugs, so unless we do something really stupid, we should be fine."

He paused looking at his team. "So… what do you think?"

"Maw..wile!" Mawile nodded eagerly. The prospect of feasting on the bugs of the forest sounded wonderful to her. Besides, as Red said, the other alternative was a dull week. She hadn't traveled so far from Pomace to be bored out of her mind. The thirst for victory and the adrenaline rush had awakened something primal within her soul. Something that wouldn't go back into its shadowed cave now that it was out.

"Skar!" Skarmory proclaimed. Red's desire to establish dominion by defeating the wild creatures of the forest sounded like a kingly challenge to her. To enter the enemy's domain, crushing all opposition and conquering their territory— truly, the pinnacle of ambition. With another loud screech, she confirmed her acceptance.

"What do you think, Shellder?" Red asked, happy with everyone's consent.

Shellder did not voice his opinion. Instead, water gurgled out of its valves, wetting the ground beneath.

"Well, I'll take that as a yes." He sweatdropped. "Now then, time to get some training done. What do you say?"

Mawile nodded her head with vigor. Training was always welcome, and with a capable team member finally on board, she couldn't wait to show off.

Unzipping his backpack, Red casually took out a fairly thick dairy with a jet black cover, with the words NOTEBOOK sprawled on it in beautiful penmanship.

Mawile groaned.

For Team 'Red', there were three kinds of training regimens. The first, or the Introduction Method as Mawile called it, was when Red would get the trainee (or lab rat, depending upon the perspective) inculcated with a specific TM. So far, Mawile had the maximum exposure to this, what with her recent gain of several skills over the past couple of weeks. Shellder had only been exposed to it once for Double Team and never again since Red wanted it to perfect Water Gun before he moved ahead to the next technique. After a TM was inculcated, Red would proceed to explain what the move was, liberally using the Dex to show videos of the move performed by other Mawile. That would be accompanied by long explanations on the move after which he'd deem her ready to practice it. Usually, this regimen lasted for several hours and ended up with the trainee being severely exhausted (and irritated because of the impudent water-type in the background).

The second method was what Mawile called the Normal Method. This was by far the most common method in practice over her time spent with Red, and it was something she was most comfortable with. This method was applicable for all those moves that Mawile knew but was not very good with. Thunder Wave, Double Team and Mist fell under this regimen.

The third, and what Mawile dreaded the most, was the Notebook Method. In this, Red would take out that sinister-looking notebook of his— his logbook, where he had meticulously and painstakingly jotted down every single fault Mawile had made while learning a particular move. This method was applicable for moves she knew and was close to mastering but was making stupid mistakes on the way. Whenever she'd make a mistake, Red would sit her down and make her undergo a humiliating episode where he'd loudly state each and every one of her mistakes so far, after which he'd take her through a most uninspiring lecture related to the move and its effects in excruciating detail.

What was worse, that Mawile had once fallen asleep in the middle of a lecture, giving in to her tiredness. Poor Red had been inconsolable.

Ever since that day, he meticulously kept repeating 'Mawile, are you awake? Are you listening?' every fifteen minutes, whenever he used the Notebook Method. She even had to stay awake on occasions when Red was trying to teach the mute bastard.

"As I was saying," Red smiled disarmingly, much to Mawile's consternation, "this is our last training session before we enter the Viridian Forest. Inside, there might not be several chances for further training. However, the bug pokémon found inside should provide enough to keep yourself challenged."

Skarmory screeched loudly in agreement.

Red inwardly smiled. With someone like Skarmory in his group, his opinion about his chances of them surviving in the wild had gone up several notches. This would be the second time he'd be in a wild environment after Pallet Forest. The last time he and Mawile had just started and had been taken by wouldn't be the same this time. Mawile had an area-of-effect move in the form of Thunder Wave to take care of aerial nuisances, though Skarmory herself would be enough to deal with those in kind. Also, Mist would be effective to get out of dangerous situations or to deliver a swift attack on an unsuspecting attacker. Further, Mawile's ability with Iron Head was superlative as usual, and her hold on Icy Wind was nearing Hail.

It had been an unexpected surprise, but a welcome one. He had pitted Mawile against Skarmory and asked her to try force the avian down to the ground through Icy Wind alone. It had taken over seven attempts, but the final one had ice shrapnel instead of powdery snow, causing the avian to falter.

Next time I face that bastard Ritchie and his charmander, Mawile will be able to deal with his whole team alone. Red thought ruefully.

"Skarmory, perhaps you could circle through your current moves once, before continuing your practice with Double Team with Shellder? I should tell you that Shellder is a master at it."

Shellder squealed happily.

"—and nothing else."

Shellder squealed again, regardless.

Rolling his eyes, he turned to Mawile, tipping the Notebook's apex with a finger. "So, where were we?"

Mawile swallowed, before putting forth her best fake smile.

Don't worry, she told herself. You've survived worse.

With Skarmory in the air, and Shellder happy with his own... eccentricities, Red turned to Mawile, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Maw… mawa?" She asked cutely, though the undercurrent of desperation was visible to anyone who had spent a considerable amount of time with her.

"Do you really think I'm going to fall for that? You should have seen this coming."

"Mawwf!" Mawile scoffed, crossing her hands and looking away.

"Don't take that tone with me, little lady, we need to discuss what happened in the battle against the ursaring. I let you have your sulking for the past two days, while we got Skarmory acclimatized to the team, but you cannot delay this any longer."

Mawile scoffed again, closing her eyes and looking away. So this must be about her behavior at the end of the match. Seriously, what did Red think she did at the end of a fight back at Pomace? Shake hands with her prey and wish them goodnight?

"I'm not angry with you for attacking the ursaring."

Mawile opened one eye to glance at her trainer from one corner. Red really did know how to get her to listen. Curiosity was, and would forever be, her sin.

"This is about your dangerous arrogance in battles."

Mawile blinked.

Red sighed. "Look, I know you've had several victories as of late, some of them being pretty impressive too. But during the fight with the ursaring, it almost looked like you were ignoring every rule in the book, and just having too much fun. Did you forget what would happen if one of those rocks deflected and hit you instead? And when you played with it by darting in and out of the mist. For something that big, all it needs to connect is a single swing, and that's game over."

That paused Mawile in her tracks.

"You are letting your victories go to your head. They were impressive, and you're growing stronger, but that doesn't change things. You cheat, you employ deception, and you land surprise yet solid hits on the opponent. That is how you survive and get to fight another day. Your behavior back during the match was… outright berserk. Your steel jaw is strong and can take hit after hit, but your body cannot."

A small frown appeared on Mawile's face. Her small stature and her natural fragility were not something she was ignorant about, but she was used to getting past that using her charm and deceit. Here, after facing other pokémon in battles, she had seen a different part of her emerge—a predator, a being who wanted to relish in the joy of a successful hunt and then feast on its prey. Initially, it had only been an instinctual drive, but battle after battle had created an addict out of her. Back on Pomace, it had only served a single goal—food. Now, she loved the rush. She embraced the feeling that hunting larger prey gave her. It energized her, to bring down such behemoths to her mercy, seeing the fear in their eyes before she landed the final blow.

But Red was calling her fragile.

In any other circumstances, she'd have taken offense to that statement. But this was different. Red's statement had not come across as a challenge. He had not said it to make her feel inferior. Instead, he only wanted to point out her fragility, because he cared for her, cared for her continued health and survival. It was… endearing, in a way.

Mawile huffed, looking away again. What was the point behind all of this anyway? She'd show him. She'd grow stronger, learn faster and gain more experience. She'd defeat larger and bulkier pokémon, and soon climb on the very apex of the food chain. Once she'd claimed it, Red would no longer have to worry about such silly things.

Yup, that was all there was to it. But of course, Red didn't need to know that.

"Maw...wile!" She nodded graciously, adopting an expression of deep understanding and self reflection..

Red rolled his eyes, knowing an act when he saw one. "Anyway, I also need to tell you that what you did at the end, was something… frowned upon."

"Wile?" Mawile narrowed her eyes. Was Red telling her that attacking that hulking beast was wrong? Did he not see how the ursaring had tried to kill her earlier?

"Wile… mawamawile!"

"I am not finished!" Red spoke, his voice a little louder with a tone of finality.

That shut Mawile up. This was the first time Red had raised his voice at her. She decided that she definitely didn't like it.

"I was referring to your reaction against that girl, Ashley." He continued in a softer tone. "Ursaring was free game, but if the opponent forfeits, then you have to stop. If you don't, it will cause problems. Problems for you, and problems for me. The League has an eye out for rogue pokémon, and takes them away from their trainers."

Mawile's eyes widened like saucers at that comment. They'd take her from Red? And he'd allow that?

"It's not something that I can stop. They have rules and we have to follow them. Hunting in the wild is fair game, but not during an official battle. You go in, you fight and defeat the opponent. Hell, you can injure it if it is particularly vicious. If it's dangerous, I don't expect you to think of the opponent's safety and hold back in fear of injuring it or worse. But don't do anything against the trainer. Do you understand?"

For one second, Mawile looked like an angry Houndour, what with the way her teeth gnashed against themselves, her tiny fists clenched, unhappy at the chains put around her. In that instant Red remembered Oak warning him against the very same.

"The bond between you is slowly forming, and it hasn't been tested yet. I am only concerned that things might fall into disarray, and should you have serious disagreements, then Mawile could possibly—"

"Wile!" Mawile shook her head, sighing in disappointment. Then, she looked up at him and gave a tentative nod.

Good.

Slowly, Red let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding as he sighed in relief. He had successfully tested the limits of his relationship with Mawile, and come out unhurt. Mawile had understood, and now, he needed to see if she was amenable to his newest suggestions.

Only time will tell.

"Well… with that out of the way, let us talk about everything you did wrong in that battle." Red commented with a sinister grin as he opened the notebook.

For the second time that day, Mawile groaned.

Meanwhile in Pewter City

When he had first made the decision to join Team Rocket, Ritchie's mind had built up mental images of darkened rooms filled with swarms of uninformed people committing evil atrocities without hesitation. He had imagined a masked leader with glowing red eyes, standing amidst nameless and faceless grunts, ordering them to spread chaos and disarray into the hearts of man and pokémon alike. There would probably be a large graveyard or something, beneath which was an underground basement that spread out dozens of miles penetrating into the city's territory without the League knowing about it, ensuring that these terrorists had access to almost every inch of the city's premises. He hadn't quite expected well… this.

"Am I really at the right place?" Ritchie murmured, flabbergasted, as he stared at what appeared to be his destination. Blinking twice, he gazed down at the address on the card again. Yes, he was exactly on the right lane of the right street, in Pewter City, and this was the exact location he was headed for.

He wondered if Mickey had been playing some kind of joke on him, as he read off the name on the sign in front of him.

GROSS CONVENIENT STORE

Liquor and Cigarettes at High Discounts

The private teleportation from the West Coast to Pewter City was over before he knew it. He remembered the Alakazam staring at him for a moment before he felt a sharp tug around his navel and a mild sense of disorientation. When he opened his eyes again, the scenery had changed. He was now standing on the side of a bi-lane roadway right next to what seemed to be an ordinary dispensary store. From there, he had figured out that he was in Pewter City, and his destination was a few miles north of his current location.

"A convenient store? First Hospitals and then stores? Does Team Rocket handle the economy of this country?" He mused, remembering his experience back at the private clinic in Pallet Town. The Nurse had been nothing but professional, and while Dr. Pym had shady connections, all he did was offer him aid. It was Mickey who was associated with Team Rocket.

A recruit consultant perhaps? Do evil organizations have recruitment consultancies?

Regardless, that was in the past. The deal had been struck, and he was the one who had offered. He had made his choice, and now he'd have to keep up his end of the bargain.

"Chu?"

The somewhat unfamiliar but no less welcome sound of his pokémon rang in his ears. He dropped his gaze to his side, towards the electric rodent beside him. There, right there, was all the proof that he had made the right decision.

Sparky is safe.

Of course, Sparky looked different. Very different. The yellowish fur had been replaced with a golden sheen, with two scale-like ears on his head and little claws on his fingertips. The original yellow, jagged tail was gone, replaced with a black, cord-like frame ending with what seemed like a shard of metal fashioned in the shape of a lightning bolt. This was what would allow Sparky to leech away unnecessary voltage whenever things went a little out of order. He was larger too, and heavier. As a pikachu, he had always found his cozy place between Ritchie's shoulders, but Raichu would have to walk alongside him, having grown past Ritchie's ability to carry him.

"We're lucky we got our hands on a Thunder Stone, didn't we? Who knows what might have happened if we didn't." Ritchie mumbled, softly caressing Raichu's ears, causing the rodent to purr with pleasure.

Contrary to what he believed, evolution via stone wasn't a drastic phenomenon, but a gradual, time consuming one. Under natural conditions, a pikachu would need to absorb the power of a lightning-bolt without grounding itself. It was almost like a ritual amongst Pikachu colonies where the leader of the group would conduct the ritual and try to ascend into the evolved state and become a Raichu. Not only were the requirements requiring control incredibly high, to even be able to attract said lightning bolt, but the chances of survival were abysmal. However, on successful evolution, the pokémon's electric capacity would increase tremendously. Further, the electric output of the Raichu would undergo a qualitative increase, with each attack comparable to a natural lightning strike.

Of course, that was when the ritual succeeded. Nine out of ten times, it resulted in the pikachu exploding, its body unable to tolerate the high voltages covering its body.

As a result, most trainers in the past kept their pikachu from evolving unless it managed to cross an elite-tier pokémon standards, something that was consistently checked with a device known as a Light Ball. The moment a pikachu was strong enough to require a Light Ball, it was deemed ready to try for a natural evolution, although even so, the chances were seventy-thirty at best.

The wrath of a lightning strike was just that dangerous.

This problem was finally solved by the creation of the Thunder Stone— a technological wonder that employed a specific superconductor to store a prodigious amount of electrical energy within it. It wasn't comparable to the sheer power of lightning, but was enough to trigger an evolutionary reaction in Pikachu. Unlike its natural counterpart, this method would take several days to weeks, but the results were successful. Such Raichu weren't as powerful as the natural variants, but the sacrifice of a portion of strength for an assured rate of survival seemed like a reasonable deal.

Sparky had been fortunate that evolution had triggered a mass growth and mutation of cells on his posterior end, amongst several other things. The majority of his injuries had been dealt with, though it was obvious that he'd need to keep away from using tail-based attacks for a month or so. The one injury that still remained was on its left electricity pouch. It had been severely damaged by the Mawile, and not even Evolution had been able to cure it. For the remainder of his life, Raichu would have to depend on the remaining pouch to generate and store the majority of his electricity.

"Raiii?"

Ritchie dropped his musings at Raichu's call. "Nothing, just wondering how things have changed for us."

The rodent growled softly at that. Ever since that unfortunate encounter with that other human and that strange little creature, things had gone downhill for them. Raichu remembered sensing his trainer's frustration over the fire-lizard's defeat, followed by a sense of overwhelming fear at the brutish way in which that creature they had called a Mawile had tortured his fellow teammates. It was no stranger to the cruelty of humans and knew that behind the savagery of a beast, there was always a human pulling the chains. It had thought the same for Mawile's barbaric display and attacked the main source of Ritchie's troubles.

The human trainer.

Things after that hadn't really been all that clear, but Raichu remembered a sudden paralysis, as if something was holding every single muscle of its body in a powerful bind. It had tried to use electricity as a long-ranged attack, but the Mawile had been faster, and slammed that large, gaping jaw into its left pouch, tearing right through the tissue. What followed was something that Raichu preferred to not think about.

" I know you're angry. I am too. We will have our revenge against them in due time, for what they did to us." Ritchie swore softly. Chirpy had been subjected to expensive treatment, but she had recovered. She'd need to take it lightly for the next few weeks but she'd be fine. Princess was practically untouched considering everything. And Happy and Squishy hadn't participated in the first place.

The only other one who had pulled the short end of the straw was Zippo.

The charmander's tail had been mauled and mutilated to a severe degree. As a charmander his tail was made of soft tissue, which would expand and grow out through its charmeleon-phase. It would only be as a charizard that it would gain an armor of high tensile strength over it. The vicious attack that the Mawile had inflicted upon him, had dire results. The treatment had saved Zippo's life but had ensured that it would take a long time before his tail was in peak condition, if at all. Dr. Pym had suggested not to employ Charmander in any form of close-combat, and instead try working on his reserves to evolve him instead.

"Chu!" The Raichu raised its hands, electricity sparkling out of its pouches— most of them being the right one, with extremely thin sparks from the left.

Ritchie smiled at his starter's attempts at cheering him up. "Don't worry. Let's get back to where we were. You think we're at the right place?"

Raichu shrugged. Humans and their need to over complicate things always confused the poor creature. It never saw the need behind those fancy names Ritchie kept giving the entire team and had always presumed it to be another 'human' thing.

"Things have certainly changed, haven't they? Guess we won't be traveling from city to city anymore. Visiting gyms, catching wild pokémon, and winning badges, it's a thing of the past now. We're gonna work for Team Rocket now."

Raichu shrugged again. It honestly didn't matter. As far as it was concerned, it had battled in the past, and would probably do so for the foreseeable future. Getting food, battling, learning new moves and growing stronger— that was the life of a trained pokémon. It was a known thing. At least Ritchie was one of the good ones, as far as humans were concerned.

"Don't worry," Ritchie spoke, wrongly guessing his lackadaisical approach towards the change to be confusion, "We'll grow stronger here, and probably do it faster than we would have. Only the best move into the higher echelons of Team Rocket. Mickey told me so." His mind set, he let out a deep breath and took a step ahead, and then another, up towards the reception hall of the clinic.

And with that, Ritchie Kent's future took a new turn.

Back in Viridian

"Fly up!"

Skarmory soared upward, gliding with the air currents. Under her grandfather's tutelage, she had learned how to effectively tune into the power of the wind and use the currents to glide with it, instead of rapidly beating her wings to stay airborne. Apparently, her grandfather could stay afloat with a single beat. We don't fly, we glide-was his favorite saying. She turned her body and weaved through at her fastest speed.

"Double Team. Six clones. Spread them as far away from yourself as possible."

Six clones formed around her, each of them spread out in all directions and flying upward. The illusory birds beat their wings once, before splitting away from the original. There were moments when the clones began to fade at places before regaining opaqueness.

"Reverse direction. Steel Wing."

Skarmory wondered if this was some kind of drill. Red was giving her orders that contradicted his previous ones. She wondered if this was some human way of checking one's competency.

"Full speed. Iron Head. Swoop down and pull up whenever you feel safe."

Skarmory screeched. This was fun. She felt the surreal powers of gravity pull her down, and she dived faster, wanting to surpass her maximum speed. As a child, she had often done this, diving as low as she could before swooping up at the last possible moment. Being a Skarmory she had a huge advantage over other birds in how much momentum she could use in every attack without taking recoil damage from the impact, her thick steel coat protecting her from collisions with other pokémon or even when she lost control and crashed into the ground. She concentrated steel energy on her head and beak and shot downwards towards the ground, performing a steep, parabolic dive.

"Pull up whenever you feel uncomfortable and fly horizontally." Red was glad he had invested in a good pair of speakers, allowing Skarmory to hear his commands, without him yelling himself hoarse. It was important that he knew what his newest pokémon's limits were. Once he got to know them better, he could work on developing them further.

Skarmory dived down further, feeling the layer of steel-energy coating her helm. The knowledge of Double Team and its execution had been pretty easy, and she had been able to create six to eight clones depending on the situation and her control. Even the clones had Steel Wing activated on them. This was fun.

Ten feet, nine feet… eight feet.

"Remember to pull up. Pull up… up!"

Seven… six…

Skarmory remembered her grandfather performing steep, nigh vertical dives before pulling off mere inches above the ground. Of course, he was a master of air manipulation, but she was confident that she could pull off a dive such as this as well. Skarmory felt another layer of steel reinforce her body. She could almost feel herself getting heavier as the steel concentrated over her form.

Five feet…

It is time. She told herself. If Grandfather could do this, I can as well. One square meter of drag was enough to slow down a falling body by approximately twenty percent. It was one of the many things her grandfather had taught her about flight manipulation. Slowly tilting her wings in a slightly upward slope, she felt the sheer pressure of air slam into her wings. Any other avian would have probably gotten a contusion or at least a sprain around their winged regions, but the might of steel was not so easily overcome. Her bladed wings tilted a little higher…

Four feet…. Three feet…

She ignored the shocked yell Red gave out. She ignored the gasp Mawile made. She ignored everything else in the universe, save the tiniest distance between herself and a world of pain. Even the drag wasn't helping her lift, and now a crash was inevitable. Come to think of it, she had survived worse crashes than this back at the Reserve, so she probably wouldn't be too injured.

But.

Red was watching, and the mawile creature— Mawile, was watching. While the crash wouldn't be lethal, it would cause a dent in their first impression. That would not bode well for the young King. Skarmory changed her mind.

Two feet…

She raised her wings upward, flapping them with great vigor. She ignored the backlash of the loss in momentum. Her body could deal with that. Making a choice, she raised the frequency, feeling the shards of her feathers grate against each other over and over, several times a second. A part of her could feel fatigue close by, the constant effort required for maintaining it clouding her senses.

Instead, she kept beating her wings over and over again.

It did not feel good. An immense discomfort began to spread through every nerve of her body, as her inner tissues were stretched to the utmost, keeping the thick armor of steel around them together. But falling down was not an option.

One foot…

The discomfort grew, as her wings grated against each other. Not once, but several times every second. And in every single part of her wingspan. The friction reached gigantic proportions, and a searing heat began to spread through them. She almost heard some sort of hissing sound in her ears, but the frequency of the flaps only grew. Fatigue was round the corner, but failing was not an option. She'd win, she'd manage it perfectly. A little pain was nothing compared to that. Metal clashed against metal, and Skarmory spread her wings a little to gain a little more area, dissipating the heat downwards.

The ground, once a grassy floor, was now covered in flames.

At least one good thing came out of it. Skarmory thought in elation, escaping the pull of gravity before gliding parallel to the ground. She took a sharp turn, and dug some of her steel feathers into the grass, hurling out dry earth at the site that had caught fire.

"Mawile, put it out," Red yelled, panting, as he rushed towards the site. Behind him, Mawile sprinted at her own pace, before a shower of icy cold wind blew out the flames. Once they were attended to, Mawile turned towards Skarmory and doused her with the same as well.

Skarmory screeched in defiance. She might have grown, but she still hated water with a passion.

"Don't be a baby. It's just Icy wind. Besides, look at what you've done to yourself." Red pointed out.

"Skar?"

It was true. Where there had been pristine metal, now there existed slight gashes on the surface. At first glance, it looked like someone had scratched it with a stronger substance repeatedly, but Red knew better. "This was caused by superheated air rushing past your wings."

Skarmory tilted her head. What was Red talking about? Sure she had felt some discomfort because of the heat, but she'd have sensed certainly sensed it if something had affected her wings. Right?

"You should not have done that," Red muttered, slowly rubbing a hand through the bruised portions, feeling the thin layer of ice deposited on them. Mawile's ability with Ice ran deep, especially for a non-ice-type pokémon.

"You tried to lift yourself up with a Gust attack, didn't you? Don't you know that skarmory cannot learn Gust?" He chastised her softly.

Skarmory screeched defiantly. She wouldn't stand him— trainer or not —to deny her potential. She was a King, of course, she was capable of—

"It's not about you. Skarmory as a species do not Gust." Red explained, silencing her displeasure. "I've had previous experience with an injured Skarmory back at the old man's ranch. Your wings are made of metal, and thus, not ideal for a gust attack. If you try very hard, it might severely injure the tendons in your wing. That was how the other Skarmory had gotten injured."

Skarmory crooked her head. This was… interesting. She hadn't really thought about her own body physiology. It hadn't mattered back then. Her steel armor had been enough to prevent most damages to her person, and that was enough for her. But knowing about her own physiology from a human was… odd.

She hadn't expected this.

"Also, rubbing all those shards of metal against each other is bound to produce a lot of friction, which is probably what started the fire in the first case. And then you began to fan it more and more, and produce more heat. That's basically a variant of Heat Wave. Unfortunately, using it will do you more harm than good.

Skarmory hissed out, muttering an expletive in her native tongue.

"Do you get a sensation from the inflamed metal tissue?" He removed his finger.

Skarmory shook her head. While her metal coat was actively synthesized by her tissues, the nerves didn't extend into her armor. Beyond her flesh, there were several layers of organo-metallic layers stacked against each other. Unless the attack was significant enough to penetrate that, she generally did not feel pain from attacks. It was one of the reasons why Skarmory wasn't fully aware of the limits of her own body, and was prone to reckless maneuvers.

"Then?"

Skarmory raised her right wing. There, he could see a single, metallic feather that had broken off at the tip, and had gotten stuck among the interweaved matrix that was Skarmory's wing. The tiny metal shard was obstructing the other feathers from moving around with ease, causing additional strain to her wing muscles.

"Ah, wait let me take care of that." Red offered, pushing his arm into Skarmory's wing. Gently, he reached down to the broken metal shard and tried to pull it out.

Nothing happened.

"This will need a bit more force," Red muttered, glancing back at Skarmory. "Can you handle a bit of extra pain?"

Skarmory gave him a look of disbelief.

"...right." Without delay, he tightened his hold on the metal shard with both hands, and pulled—"SKAAAAR!" —it out! The metal shrapnel slashed against his wrist, drawing blood.

"Mawa-wile?" Mawile rushed, sensing his wound.

"Oh don't worry." Red brushed it off, as Mawile blew a little amount of icy wind on it as well. He hissed as he felt the cold brush against the injured tissue, before taking out a handkerchief to keep the wound from getting worse. "I have some ointments in the tent. With a little luck, it'll be back to normal in a minute."

Had he been a little more observant, he'd have noticed that the pain from such a deep wound was conspicuously missing.

There were several kinds of trainers. The most common ones were the wandering kind, who tried their luck at the gym circuits, and if they got the chance, the conference. After their defeat, they spent their time participating in numerous tournaments and battles, perhaps trying their hand at other regions, before it was time to participate in a conference once again. This was a conventional strategy, and it did give them a steady amount of money, the amounts increasing as they progressed as a trainer and developed a strong team. Usually, a trainer that followed this strategy diligently for a few years ended up being financially comfortable if not more than that.

There were also those trainers who preferred to live and train in the wilderness, embracing the harshness of nature and trying to use the adversity to push past their limits. These tended to be elite-level trainers, who had gained considerable proficiency in battle and were mostly of the freelancer variety— a hired hand of sorts. While some of these trainers did manage to surpass their previous limits and perhaps develop a champion-tier pokémon, most of them ended up as recluses, spending most of their life training before eventually becoming a part of some organization either through agreement or coercion.

The third kind of trainers were the campers. Campers were in general, trainers who couldn't be bothered with— or were too lazy —to travel and follow the life of a conventional trainer. Instead, after gaining a certain level of proficiency in training, a camper would settle down in a particular location and then challenge trainers who passed said location. Viridian City, in particular, had one of the largest camper concentrations in the Kanto-Johto mainland. This was primarily because of the Trainer Square, which provided campers a way to make money in droves, and yet, not have to travel across towns and cities. Needless to say, it was the prospect of making money that drove a camper, not the prospect of building a solid team or winning a conference.

Ken, was not such a Camper. Having long since deserted his family name and title, he had become just himself, a Samurai who had chosen to walk the path of a trainer, leaving his family home in Chrysanthemum Island for good. Along with his starter cubone, he had decided to travel all over the Kanto mainland, challenging other trainers to hone himself. Unlike his father, who had trashed on his beliefs, Ken wanted to show the whole world that he was better. That he was the best trainer amongst them all.

At least that was the plan.

Over time, he accumulated a decent team for himself— a spearow and a pinsir from the forests around Saffron city, and a rhyhorn wandering around Mt. Moon. Ken believed in absolute obedience, and demanded the same from his pokémon. To follow his every command, no matter the cost— That was the law for his team. Things continued according to plan, and soon enough, his spearow evolved into a fearow, and his cubone into a powerful marowak.

Then, he met Gary Oak.

Ken had been happily traveling through Pewter City when he had spotted a trainer with an exotic pokémon. On further inspection, it turned out that the pokémon in question was a Lairon, a steel-type with deep ties with the rhyhorn line. Apparently, Lairon only resided in mountainous areas, and thus, were pretty rare. Finding an opportunity to battle against something like that, Ken challenged Gary to a battle.

The results hadn't been pretty.

It turned out that Gary's exuberant displays of confidence were not in fact, hollow. The teen's lairon and machoke shattered Ken's confidence, inflicting a crushing defeat on his rhyhorn and pinsir. The lairon in question had been extraordinarily vicious and had shattered several of Rhyhorn's bones, while Pinsir had ended up suffering from several contusions.

Rhyhorn and Pinsir had been in the Pewter hospital ever since, and the medical charges for their treatment were massive, especially for someone not actively trying for the gym circuit. Ken had heard about the famous Trainers Square in Viridian, and decided to try his luck there, and gather money to pay for the treatment. Fortunately, the medical staff at the hospital were sympathetic to his situation and allowed him to slowly pay in installments.

Ken had traveled through Viridian Forest after that, catching a rather unruly Pidgeotto for himself, hoping it would provide aid at the Square. Fortunately for him, a second method opened up that allowed him to quickly gather money.

Apparently, most trainers that crossed the Viridian Forest tended to be fairly inexperienced. Being badge-less himself, Ken found it remarkably easy to pose as a rookie and challenge them. It was a rather cheap trick, truth be told, especially considering that he was specifically targeting trainers much less powerful than himself, and therefore, taking undue advantage of their lack of experience. In less than three days, he had already challenged seven people and won over four thousand pokédollars. That was when… he realized that this was his means to acquire quick money.

For his team, of course. He told himself over and over.

That was how, Ken found himself staring at the lone tent along the riverbank, and the inconspicuous shellder lying on the doorstep, with tiny bubbles frothing from its mouth from time to time, and a certain tiny ivory creature with a large black flap, sitting at the edge of the river bank.

Yes, this would adequately do for his next prey.

Red Ketchum soon found out that the injury would not soon be... back to normal very soon.. Apparently, the organo-metallic alloy that formed the basis of Skarmory's armor also had an adverse reaction against coagulants, and thus, Red had only been able to stop the blood loss after a while.

Mawile had been a complete mess, conflicted between trying to help Red with his wound, trying to get him to a proper medic, and blaming Skarmory for the entire thing. The teen in question had been remarkably level-headed about the entire incident, and once the bleeding finally stopped, Red had asked Mawile to stop worrying, since he'd be fine with some rest. Soon enough, exhaustion and mild disorientation from the bloodloss had kicked in.

Assured that her trainer was properly resting, Mawile had walked out of the tent, but not before instructing Skarmory to guard her trainer while she was out doing… whatever she was doing. Skarmory had agreed easily enough, both in looking after Red and making sure nothing happened to Shellder. The latter was mostly a formality because, after Mawile's recent experiences involving Shellder and her own ill-placed Iron Head attack, she was reliably confident that Shellder's shell was pretty much unbreakable. Besides, Skarmory did seem somewhat guilty at the turn of events and had gladly agreed to play watchdog while Mawile was gone.

For ten minutes, it had been bearable, but Skarmory was an avian, and she found her comfort in being airborne. With a quick glance at Shellder, who had fallen near the doorstep and was busy with… something, Skarmory flew out of the tent, circling high above it, the breeze doing wonders to her mental constitution.

Besides, they were on an empty, grassy ground beside the river. Mawile was out there, sitting and sulking a little far away, and Skarmory, with her remarkably powerful eyesight, was there to ensure nothing would go wrong. What was the worst that could happen?

Samurai Ken spread the bush apart, observing his latest prey. He did not recognize the ivory-ish creature, though in his defense, he didn't really know a lot about pokémon except the common ones found all over the Kanto mainland, and this strange, tiny creature was anything but that. However, the most important thing was the shellder, and he knew for a fact that shellder evolved into cloyster, which were terrifying. Also, said evolution required the use of an extremely expensive Water Stone, or so he remembered hearing. Therefore, a trainer with a Shellder was a trainer with the means to purchase a Water Stone. In short, a trainer that came from money.

More than adequate prey...

That would also explain the non-native creature sitting at the edge of the river bank. From what he could see, it was a cute and cuddly little thing, the sort of pokémon owned by spoilt brats who had more money than they knew what to do with.

It is my lucky day.

He grabbed the hilt of his wooden bokken, keeping the real metal sword affixed to his back. Yes, this rich little fuck had entered his hallowed hunting grounds and would pay the price for it. Ken could estimate an easy fifteen hundred if not more, given how he wanted it to play it out.

He stepped out of the bush, his bokken in his right hand, and his pokéball ready in his left, should he encounter unexpected problems. A part of him wanted to capture the ivorish creature, if only to sell it at a higher price in Viridian City, but that wasn't something his fraying sense of morality was able to stomach at the moment. So a battle it would have to be.

He raised his bokken and stepped in front of the tent, uncaring of his surroundings. "I am Ken, the Samurai, and I'm here to challenge you for your transgressions." He declared in a loud, slightly exaggerated voice- Something that tended to trigger newbie trainers and get them to accept battles more easily "Come out and challenge me, or lose your life-"

Ironically so, that was the exact moment when Ken the Samurai came inches close to losing his own.

The sounds from the commotion outside shook Red out of his disturbed sleep. As he tried to open his eyes, he felt an overwhelming pressure on his eyelids, causing him to shut them again. The disorientation took another couple of seconds to pass before he managed to push himself up, distracted by the sounds of— SLAM! SCREECH! "SAVE ME!"—

"What the...?"

"WAK! SCREECH! MAAWA-MAWILE!"

"I try to get an hour of sleep and now this?" Red cursed, before pushing himself to his feet, and running out of the tent.

The entire place looked like a war zone.

A couple of yards away, there was a fallen teen around his own age, with incredibly long hair that went all the way past his waist, tied into a long, elaborate ponytail. From his attire, he appeared to be someone belonging to one of several traditionalist clans in Kanto and was most likely a trainer himself— or something along those lines. More importantly, he could see Mawile going all feral on the teen, while another tiny pokémon wielding a bone club— a marowak, he realized —was trying to defend against her and Skarmory who was screeching madly and doing her best to pin him to the ground. Shellder was… frothing.

The only reason the teen was still alive was likely because Red's pokémon were not trying to kill him. Thankfully his earlier talk with Mawile seemed to have some effect. Red actually crooked his neck in abrupt fascination for a second, before the impromptu war seized his attention. He glanced at the terrified demeanor of the intruder, and the wooden sword-like thing fallen a little away from his own feet, and bellowed, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

That seemed to do the trick. Red's enraged voice seemed to distract both Skarmory and Mawile, both giving higher precedence to his presence than to their unpremeditated battle, and rushed towards him. Mawile was closer, and she leaped in front of him, her jaw raised and facing the marowak, the steel teeth in her jaws still emanating a lethal aura. Skarmory flew above Red and balanced herself above him, occasionally beating her wings to keep herself airborne.

"Keep those monsters away from me!" Ken yelped, standing up and rushing behind Marowak for protection. He glanced at the bokken fallen near Red's feet. "And return my bokken to me."

Red's left eye twitched. "All right, who are you and why were you trying to get into my tent?"

"I am Ken the samurai. I am here to challenge you for your transgressions."

"Don't care," Red responded coldly. "Why did you barge into my tent like a freaking thief?"

"I am a Samurai and it is beneath me to even think of what you suggest," Ken answered defiantly. "You are in my hunting grounds and that gives me the right to challenge you for your transgressions."

Did I get cursed or something? Or is there something special about me that attracts every moron in the immediate vicinity? Knowing my luck, it's probably the latter.

"Well, this area belongs to Viridian City, and the last time I checked, there are no hunting grounds in or around here. That is the law."

"A Samurai does not bother himself with such meaningless minutia."

Red suppressed his rising urge to smack the teen on the head. For a second he was sorely tempted to let Skarmory and Mawile have their way with him and his equally stupid-looking marowak, before he forcefully calmed himself. "Well obviously, laws are for the civilized. That might be a strange concept from… wherever you're from, but..."

"On my honor as a—"

"Zip it." Red snarled. "You trespassed into my property, carrying a bladed weapon and with possible malicious intent. My pokémon were well within their rights to defend me by any means they deemed necessary. So give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the police right now."

"I wasn't trespassing." The other teen refuted hotly. "I was only trying to judge your competence as a trainer. A true warrior always maintains constant vigilance."

"And you look around for… 'true warriors'," Red emphasized using air-quotes, glancing down at the wooden sword-like thing, "with a… stick?"

"It's not a stick, it's a bokken. I'm a samurai, and that's my bokken."

"Good to know," Red replied, rolling his eyes. Trust his luck to encounter just another hot-headed fool. Was this going to be a repetition whenever he came within the periphery of a forest?

"And if that vicious bird had not attacked me out of nowhere like that, I'd make sure to go through with my words as well. Speaking of which, me and my pokémon could just as easily defeat that birdie of yours if we knew about it in advance."

"Of course you would." Red didn't even want to continue the conversation.

"Yes, and you'd better remember that."

Really now? A smug feeling of pettiness washed over Red. Perhaps it was the blood loss, or nausea, or maybe even a hidden desire to simply cause some pain to this… overexcited, bothersome idiot. "I have a grand idea, through which you can regain your honor as a Samurai, and I don't report you to the police."

"Which is?"

"We battle. Three on three. Five hundred's the usual standard per battle. So a total of fifteen hundred if you win all battles. What does your honor say?"

For the first time in his journey, Ken hesitated. It was ironic, since it was he who had rushed into the situation, asking for a fight. Now, he was being given a fight, at a high price that too, just as he had wanted in the first place. The question was— would he do it?

From his estimation, that beast of an avian was a steel-type, which meant that it would probably take five strikes from Marowak's bone to cause damage equivalent to a single one. Of course, he was not without pokémon himself. The other, tiny yellow creature was vicious, but her body was soft. Between his fearow and pidgeotto, he was reliably certain he could best the steel-type. Besides, this was a spoilt brat. How good could he be?

"Fine." Ken consented. "A three on three standard battle. You do have three pokémon on you, right?"

Why is he— oh. OH. Red realized. "Yes, I do. They are in front of you."

So he is including the shellder then. Definitely a newbie.

"Then we have an accord."

I got you. Red mentally sneered.

This day's shaping out to be better and better. Ken interred.

"Your ID?"

"BWTQ099G," Ken answered. Getting himself registered as a trainer was the last thing he had done before rejecting the Gym route. After his defeat at the hands of Gary Oak, the same ID had been instrumental in providing him legitimacy in pick-up battles.

"That should do." He set up a transaction accord for the upcoming battle, and activated the record function, placing his pokédex on one of the rocks beside the tent. The video record would act as proof in case Ken reneged on the deal after the battle.

Mawile grinned. After the entire experience over the last two days, getting rid of her insecurities, her experience with the Notebook and Red getting hurt, she was itching for a fight. Correction. She was itching to beat somebody up.

"Shellder, you are up." Red proclaimed, and almost instantly, felt two confused stares on his person.

"..."

"Maw!" Mawile yelled in outrage.

"Mor?" Skarmory asked, surprised.

"Well…" Red laughed embarrassed. "Shellder's not showing any improvement with normal training, so perhaps a battle would do him good. I don't even want him to win, just perhaps manage to fire a water gun. Desperation makes us do wonders, the old man used to say."

Shellder squeaked, drenching the grass beneath it with water.

Mawile rolled her eyes. Well, it was not like Shellder knew any battle-worthy moves. It would be a matter of seconds and then the real battler-that is herself, would enter the stage.

Well, I am desperate, so that must count for something. Red prayed inwardly. "Come on, Shellder. This is a real battle, your first one."

Shellder squeaked.

"Yeah, that's the spirit."

Ken watched the proceedings with fascination mixed with disbelief. Perhaps he was right after all. This was a spoilt brat if he was expecting a shellder to win in a battle. Well then, it would be an easy fifteen. With a smirk, he tossed a pokéball into the air. "Time to fight, Pidgeotto!"

For a Kanto-native like Red, pidgeotto needed no introduction. All you needed was to look up, and chances are high you'd spot a pidgey, if not one of their evolved forms. Back when he was a kid and still tentative friends with Gary, they had made a sport out of throwing pebbles at pidgey in attempts to hit them.

Pidgeotto, in general, weren't that big. Even the largest ones maxed out at about four feet in height. The one Red saw in front of him was barely crossing three, and considering the hint of green on its brown back, it was clear that this was a newly evolved one.

"Shellder, get ready. That pidgeotto is your own opponent." Red claimed, inwardly realizing just how stupid all of this might seem.

Shellder squeaked, but did nothing. The pidgeotto flew in a circle around it, trying to figure out her new opponent. Once convinced that Shellder wasn't about to use some kind of long-range attack, she dropped down to the ground.

"Jo?" The avian chirped in confusion, staring at the silent water-type in front of her. Almost out of curiosity, it pecked it slightly.

Nothing happened.

"Jo?" Pidgeotto barked again. This time, she grabbed Shellder's valve with her beak and rolled it over.

Shellder continued to play dead.

Red sweatdropped. "Shellder use Water Gun."

Said water-type let out a squeak, gurgling as water seeped out of its valves like a broken water bottle, seeping into the ground.

Pidgeotto blinked. Was this for real? Without further ado, it let out a screech and began to furiously peck at Shellder's shell.

WUT! WUT! WUT! WUT!

"Shellder," Red yelled at the water-type, ready to return it back to its ball at the slightest sign of danger "use Water Gun. Now."

Nothing happened. Pidgeotto kept going on and on like a lunatic woodchipper.

"It is not going to do anything. Pick it up and throw it at its owner." Ken laughed.

Pidgeotto was quick to follow suit and dropped its constant pecking. Upon second thought, it should have been alarmed at the sudden tensing of Shellder's valves, but easily obtained victory had a way of silencing one's instincts.

Shellder in general, never really cared about silly things like fighting and winning. No, it had bigger dreams, like trying to create new specimens of Shellder, and filling the world up with Shellder. The bird with obvious anger issues had screeched out and started pecking at him. It was… interesting. Perhaps this bird wanted to know Shellder's secret with Double Team and was being annoyingly persuasive about it? Shellder did not know. So, it did the only thing it could-push itself into the familiar darkness and wait out whatever the bird wanted to do.

The method did have a reasonable degree of success when used against obstinate acolytes.

Shellder ignored Red's asking him to perform Water Gun. It was too engaged in experiencing the reverberating vibrations inside the shell. It made it feel like the world was going in circles. Wasn't this just fascinating?

The vibrations grew louder. Perhaps hiding in the shell wouldn't work. Would this stubborn bird go away if Shellder showed her a little of its magnificence? Yes, that should do.

Shellder gurgled, gathering water inside its valves. Initially, it had decided on frothing out a bit, but the consistent vibrations would not allow that to happen. So it would have to be water. Shellder tried to squeal, but the vibrations stopped him. The pressure kept building, but its closed valves kept the water from going out.

Huh? Shellder was astounded at the rise in pressure. It made its head go all fuzzy and wuzzy. Wait, was wuzzy a word? Shellder wished the bird would stop pecking at him so that he could ask Red about it. But wait, Red did not speak Shellder-tongue. He was not yet evolved enough to be able to do that. Perhaps Mawile then?

The pecking stopped suddenly, and Shellder felt the incredible pressure inside itself find a slope. Whoa! It thought. This was cool. It had never reached this conclusion during its experiments prior to this. Perhaps Shellder could ask Skarmory to—

Pidgeotto lifted Shellder by the valves, which automatically sprung open, and that came out.

It wasn't a Water Gun. The volume and water content was much too little. It wasn't a Water Pulse. The pressure was way, way too high for that. What came out were globules of water, shooting under incredibly high pressure and higher speeds, and slammed into Pidgeotto's front, like a wall of bullets. The sheer force was so high that the resulting impact threw the bird pokémon backward, and caused several hairline fractures at the site of injury.

So that's… Shellder realized with abrupt fascination, that's how it's done.

Experiment successful.

"HOLY SHIT!" Red murmured, "did that really happen?" Had Shellder, in an epic attack, sent a barrel of tiny water globules at Pidgeotto? In his excitement, he actually edged closer to Mawile and pinched her in the arm. "Mawile, Mawile. Tell me this isn't a dream."

This isn't a dream! Mawile scoffed inwardly, yelling back in her own tongue. "But what the hell did you pinch me for?"

Samurai couldn't believe his eyes. A shellder had just injured his pidgeotto, in some kind of swift water-based attack that seemed like a water pulse, only miniature in shape and dozens in number. Even for someone with limited experience in pokémon physiology, such as himself was able to come up with several ways in which such an attack could be deemed useful. If only he could get his hands on…

"Choose your next pokémon, Samurai Ken." Red drawled. "By the looks of it, your pidgeotto isn't in battle-worthy condition. I'd suggest returning it."

Ken gnashed his teeth. As much as he'd like to refute the other boy's statement, he was right. Pidgeotto had hit the ground as soon as that sudden attack had hit it. It had probably broken a few ribs as well.

"Return Pidgeotto." He replied, at last, returning the avian. Such a fluke wouldn't happen a second time. "Marowak, show them what you've got. Flukes like that won't save your team from Marowak."

Red grinned. "I know." Without any preamble, he raised his pokéball and returned Shellder.

Ken looked as though he had just been slapped "...what? But Shellder hadn't lost."

"I know. But Shellder forfeits." Red grinned maliciously. "Mawile, you're next."

And Mawile smiled, as she gazed at Marowak, her demeanor feral, ready to enter the battle at last.

We hope that you enjoyed the chapter. If so, please fav/follow us, and more importantly, do review. Feedback gives us the motivation to write.

If you have something to share with us, or just want to talk to us about our stories, join us at our Discord Server - discord .gg/hqWqhtW (Remove the space)

You can also support us and our work on Patre0n at patre0n.c0m/theBlackStaffAndNightMarE (replace the 0 with o)

Thanks once again, and we hope you continue to enjoy our stories.

~The BlackStaff and NightMarE~