Sorry for the long chapter, but I just had such a hard time cutting things as I believe everything here is so important to set the stage! A big thank you to Void Reader, Thor94, Ri2, and Geekgirles for reviewing! Your feedback was SO helpful! A few replies:

I have amended the first chapter to describe the Blitz game differently. I agree that the sport should not actually have pokémon attacking humans directly, as that goes against the ethics of trainers in the current, modern world. I never intended for the game to incorporate that in any way, but the way I wrote it absolutely made the sport sound positively primeval! Therefore, I clarified some things: players ride Cylizars and they attempt to score by throwing balls into one of the opposing team's hoops to get points. More details to come, but Nemona ensures Ash and Brock that the Cylizars are not allowed to attack humans directly, but the sport is still rather intense in contact. She also notes that there are other restrictions, which will also be explained later.

I have also amended the first chapters to have the Paldeans speak Spanish, so please keep correcting me on my use of the language. I definitely want to make sure I am respecting the language by getting it right. Chapters have been amended to fix typos, accent marks, and other errors.

Next chapter, we will finally make it to Scarlet Academy. I'm so excited to really get that arc underway. Please continue leaving feedback, comments, or encouragement as they are most appreciated!

One last note: This fic is rated T for eventual language, violence, and innuendo.


Chapter 3: Scarlet & Violet


Beneath the lighthouse erected half a mile up the road from the inlet, a young trainer stood brooding as his gaze fixed intently on the beach below. In his hands, he held a pair of binoculars, through which he observed the unfolding scene involving the World Champion and the pokémon the young trainer had been tracking for over a week now with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. His eyes, keen and observant, scanned the area, taking in every detail and planning his next move.

Pushing his long dirty-blonde hair aside, the trainer grunted with irritation. The situation had become officially more complicated than he could have imagined. The legendary pokémon had been spotted and—somehow—the Monarch of the World was with it out of some sort of obligation to protect the creature.

"Damn," the young man cursed and procured a pokéball from the back of his belt. His teal eyes never left the champion, as he watched him follow his target into the inlet grotto. "Mabosstiff, time to run!"

From the explosion of red light appeared a large, canine Pokémon—its coat is primarily gray, with blackish gray colorations on its underside, back, and around its face and eyes—appeared. The pokémon stretched its powerful limbs and shook out its thick fur before turning to its trainer with dark, expectant eyes.

The young man put away his binoculars into his large hiking backpack before clipping the pack around his waist and hopping onto a bike beside his Mabosstiff, which stood stoically a good four feet from the ground on its powerful limbs.

There was another way into the grotto, and he needed to get there quickly before Ash Ketchum and that pokémon could emerge from the otherside.

"Mabosstiff, let's go! Fast!"

At his command, Mabosstiff sprang into action, its powerful limbs propelling it forward with an impressive burst of speed. The pokémon moved with a fluid grace that belied its size, its muscular body cutting through the terrain effortlessly. Its trainer followed, pedaling as hard as he could to keep up.

xxxx

"Um, the bus is leaving…why is the bus leaving!?" Nemona looked in alarm to see the bus driver starting up the vehicle's engine. The portly, mustached man waved to the crowd with irritation, signaling for everyone to climb back on. He seemed to make it clear that he would drive off without his charge if he had to. The Lechonk, now with the threat of the Houndour over with, had dispersed and were grazing peacefully along the pasture to the left of the road, leaving the path clear.

"But," Nemona found her mouth working over numerous thoughts at once. "What about Ash?!"

Brock didn't seem to hear her. In one swift motion, he actually jumped—much to Nemona's shock—off the ledge and began sliding his body down the cliff in a cloud of dust towards the beach from which Ash had just disappeared moments ago.

"Um," Nemona glanced in stupor at Pawmo, who only shrugged as though it were being asked to predict the victor of a race between Snorlax and Slowpoke.

The student champion had a certain image to uphold; a certain reputation. She was not one for "going rogue." In fact, Nemona prided herself in not only being an excellent battler, in the classical sense, but also in the fact that she was an excellent student all around. She mentored younger pupils, she made top marks, she volunteered at the school's pokémon Center.

Nemona, still in a state of uncertainty but now fueled by a fear of missing out on the fun, took a deep breath and began muttering to Pawmo as though talking herself into her next course of action, "Well, you have to admit, it's all kind of exciting. Maybe we'll get to battle! That would make this worth skipping the Student Council Brunch tomorrow." But she'd get back to the school before Orientation. She'd make sure of it. She had to be there as student body president after all.

With that, she braced herself and leapt off the ledge, following Brock's dusty trail down the cliff.

She landed on the beach with a hard thud and found herself seated criss-cross on the sand. "Ohhh," she moaned and rubbed her backside before stumbling to her feet. Pawmo, who'd jumped off her shoulder to shake its fur from dust and sand, twitched its tail and chirped to indicate that Brock was now running towards the mouth of the cavern. "Hey! Wait up, Professor Brock, sir!"

Nemona's feet teetered in the sand as she started after him. Pawmo jumped back onto her shoulder and the two caught up to the pokémon doctor, who had turned around with surprise at the sound of Nemona's eager voice.

The cave loomed before them, its mouth wide and dark, as if swallowing the light around it. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like ancient chandeliers, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed from within, giving the cave an eerie, mysterious ambiance.

Brock stopped in his tracks, turning to face the tanned young trainer, with a look of preoccupied concern. "Nemona, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here," he cautioned, his voice unsure.

"Relax, professor," Nemona grinned, her determination evident in her voice. She crossed her arms confidently before her chest, "I'm the current Battle School champion. I didn't get that way by avoiding challenges and staring at textbooks—though I am a great student, on top of everything; studying is my second favorite pastime. Plus, I know Paldea and its pokémon, you and Ash don't." She looked triumphant at this argument.

Brock hesitated, weighing the risks against the young trainer's clear resolve and eagerness to help. "That's true," he finally conceded, "but you need to stay close and be careful. We don't know what we're dealing with here."

Nemona nodded enthusiastically, a determined spark in her eyes. "Claro, Professor! Also, if I help, can it be extra credit on my first pokémon anatomy test because I can already tell that your class if going to be a b—,"

A loud roar cut her off. Suddenly Nemona found herself running deep inside the grotto alongside Brock, their eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. The cave walls were rugged and damp, glistening with moisture and covered in various mosses and small cave-dwelling plants. The air was cool and slightly humid, carrying the scent of earth and stone. The path ahead steeped upwards and was uneven, with occasional small puddles of water reflecting the little light that managed to penetrate the cavern.

The deeper they ventured, the more the cave seemed to envelop them in its dark embrace save the few bioluminescent lights humming dimly along the walls and the shafts of daylight streaming in from the grotto ceiling. Every now and then, the soft scurrying of a cave pokémon could be heard, a fleeting shadow in the peripheral vision.

After the deafening roar, all had gone silent again. Nemona and Brock halted, listening for anything else.

"Keep your eyes open for anything unusual," Brock whispered, his voice barely above a murmur in the cavern's quiet.

"Got it," Nemona replied, her and Pawmo's gaze darting around in high alert, her hand moving into her satchel to procure another one of her pokéballs. She continued moving forward besides, her footsteps echoing upon making contact with some puddles on the grotto floor. The bioluminescent lights cast eldritch shadows on the walls, creating a surreal atmosphere that heightened their alertness. Just when she thought the cave couldn't get any more creepy, she and the pokémon doctor began to hear a series of low growls closing in on them.

"More Houndour," Brock announced grimly, a pokéball immediately in his hand. Five of them, Brock noted, and they did not look friendly. "Go, Croagunk!"

The poison, fighting-type pokémon stood beside Brock, its posture aggressive and ready.

Beside the pokémon doctor, Nemona let out a small, confident smirk. "Goodra, let's do this!" she released the pokéball in her hand and revealed her bipedal, draconic pokémon. Goodra immediately assessed the battlefield and mimicked Nemona's determination, a glint in its green eyes. "Pawmo, you too!"

"Pawmo, Pawmo!" the fighting, electric mouse scampered up beside its two allies.

Nemona clenched her fists and began staring down her opponents. This was the kind of thing she lived for—the intensity, the adventure, the suspense—the challenge.

"Let's do this."

xxxxx

"Hold on!"

Ash's voice fell on deaf ears. The large, scarlet creature before him ceased to come to a halt. Though injured, it moved swiftly through the cavern, its urgency punctuated by a roar the reptile-pokémon would emit every so often as though to intimidate the dark.

"It's…it's running from something," Ash concluded, now really annoyed that he'd decided to start his Paldean adventure the way he started all his adventures: with no pokémon save Pikachu. "Stay close, buddy, I have a bad feeling about this," Ash voiced warily. He was definitely feeling grateful that he'd kept Brock's Marshtomp, but the creature before him, its roars, and the darkness made him really wish he had his championship team on him.

Suddenly, the oppressive darkness of the cave was pierced by a strange, otherworldly light. A portal, glowing with a brilliant, electric blue hue, materialized seemingly out of thin air and constant roar like a jet engine punctuated the silence. From within this loud, radiant vortex emerged another pokémon.

This creature, eerily similar to the one Ash followed, was sleek and futuristic in design, with a body that shimmered like polished violet metal under the portal's glow. Its form was streamlined, almost mechanical in nature, its elegant lines and smooth contours suggested both speed and power. The creature's eyes glowed with an intense, vibrant light, adding to its mystifying presence.

The most striking feature of this Pokémon was the energy that seemed to emanate from it, a pulsing electrical aura that resonated with the very air of the cave. It moved with a graceful, almost ethereal quality, its presence in the cave feeling both alien and wondrous. From the open portal, the pokémon surveyed its surroundings with a determined—almost frenzied—gaze. It seemed to assess the situation with a level of understanding beyond the ordinary, its attention briefly settling on Ash and Pikachu before appraising the large, scarlet creature Ash had been following.

Immediately, it issued forth a deafening roar.

Ash grimaced and placed his hands over his ears. His eyes glanced back and forth between the two entities, which he assumed to be foes. The scarlet reptile, sensing a challenge from the newcomer, braced itself. With a powerful stance, it began to stamp its feet causing multiple rocks surrounded by purple energy to erupt from the ground. The scarlet creature reared back, its muscles coiling as it prepared to unleash its power.

In response, the sleek, violet-hued pokémon took on a defensive posture. Its body started to crackle with electric energy, the air around it buzzing with the buildup of a potent electric attack. The glow from its eyes intensified, focusing on its opponent with an unwavering stare. Sparks of electricity danced along its metallic body, creating an aura of raw, pulsing power.

Ash could hardly keep his eyes off the spectacle—his mind working in overdrive as it would be in any other battle—trying to comprehend the opponents before him. On one side, the ancient power of the scarlet reptile, a force rooted in some primordial past. On the other, the futuristic energy of the violet creature, a display of advanced, almost otherworldly power.

And suddenly Ash understood that these pokémon were one in the same somehow. He moved to shield Pikachu. Something was very wrong, then—the portal from which the violet creature began to issue forth was a path to some alternate dimension.

Ash needed to close it. Now.

"Pikachu, use Electro Web on that portal!" Ash directed, gritting his teeth. He knew that the attack would only buy him time. The violet pokémon on the opposite side looked very powerful and very mad.

Pikachu, sensing the urgency in his trainer's voice, sprang into action without a moment's hesitation. Its small, agile body tensed with concentration, and in a flash, it began to channel an orange-yellow orb of electricity on its tail.

"Pika-chuuu!" With a determined cry, Pikachu unleashed its Electro Web. A brilliant, electric-yellow web of energy burst forth, arcing through the air towards the mysterious portal. The web—a network of intertwining electric strands that crackled and buzzed with potent energy—made contact with the portal, interacting with the portal's own strange, otherworldly essence. The electric threads clung to the edges of the portal, creating a vibrant display of light and electricity. The energy from Pikachu's attack appeared to disrupt the portal's stability, causing it to flicker and pulse erratically.

The violet pokémon, noticing Pikachu's attempt to close the portal, let out a roar of defiance. Its gaze shifted momentarily from its scarlet counterpart to Pikachu and Ash, a hint of surprise flashing in its eyes.

Ash watched intently, aware that the Electro Web might not permanently close the portal but hoping it would at least destabilize it long enough for them to figure out their next move. For a moment, the cavern was illuminated with the interplay of light from Pikachu's Electro Web and the glowing portal, casting surreal shadows and creating an atmosphere of tension and uncertainty.

The young champion suddenly addressed the scarlet creature a few meters before him. "Hey! Can you close that portal?!"

The scarlet reptile, its focus already thrown off by the Electro Web, inclined its large, lizard-like head towards Ash.

"You're hurt," Ash explained quickly, "no use battling that thing. Just send it away. Close the portal!"

Ash thought he saw the red creature nod stiffly before shifting its focus from the confrontation to the task at hand. It stood tall, its large, reptilian form radiating a primordial power. The creature's eyes, which had been filled with aggression moments ago, now glowed with a deep, intense light, indicating the gathering of a powerful ancient energy.

With a commanding presence, the reptile extended its massive head towards the flickering portal, its eyes locked onto its violet foe. The air around the creature began to ripple and distort. Slowly, a visible aura of white energy formed into a powerful sphere before its nose, pulsating in rhythm with the creature's deep, resonant roars. Ash immediately identified the attack as another form of Ancient Power.

As the primeval energy reached its peak, the reptile unleashed a ball of force towards the portal. The energy wave was a spectacular display, a swirling vortex of blinding white light that spiraled towards the portal with immense speed. The wave collided with the portal's edge, causing a shockwave of force that reverberated throughout the cavern.

The portal, destabilized by Pikachu's Electro Web and now assaulted by the reptile's Ancient Power, began to tremble violently. The violet Pokémon inside let out a final roar of defiance before the portal started to contract rapidly, the edges curling inwards as if being sucked into a void.

The light of the portal dimmed, and with a final pulse of energy from the scarlet reptile, the portal imploded silently, vanishing into thin air. The last traces of the strange, otherworldly light disappeared, leaving the cavern once again in its natural dimness.

The scarlet pokémon, having exerted a considerable amount of energy, let out a low, weary growl and collapsed to the floor. It glanced briefly at Ash and Pikachu, a silent acknowledgment of their teamwork, before its gaze turned to the now-closed space where the portal had been.

Ash, for his part, removed his red and white cap to wipe the sweat and dirt from his brow. Instinctively, he looked to the hat to assess any damage before returning it over his tousled black hair. Just as he did, Ash heard footsteps echo in the cavern in front of him. He snapped his head in alert.

"Now that was some quick thinking, Mr. Champion,"

Even in the dimly lit cave, Ash could make out the figure of a young male trainer, perhaps just a year or two older than himself, descending down the grotto path towards Ash besides a large, dog-like pokémon he didn't recognize.

The young man stumbled off of the bike he had been riding a bit frantically and offered a strained smile in Ash's direction. He brushed aside his tousled, dirty blonde hair, more out of a nervous tic than any practical need, as his bangs fell once again to obscure one of his blue-green eyes.

"Um," Ash began haltingly, observing the young man's attire. He looked like a student from one of the academies in his rumpled white button-down, yellow vest, scarlet tie, and striped trouser. "Who are—,"

"Arven?! Really? Seriously?"

Ash whirled around to see Nemona running up to them, Brock pursuing. Pawmo, Croagunk, and a Goodra also followed them. The young woman, a bit haggard and laboring to catch her breath, addressed the newcomer with an irritated countenance. "What…the heck…are you doing…here?" she panted, stopping to stand up straight and put her hands on her hips.

"Out of all people," the young trainer, Arven, rolled his eyes at the sight of Nemona, "should you already be at Scarlet Academy planning some sort of battle marathon event with your lackeys?"

"Okay, everyone, stop!" Ash closed his eyes to think. He was exhausted, very hungry, and still standing beside a very large and dangerous pokémon. "Does anyone know what just happened? I mean, I was following this pokémon and then another pokémon—really similar to this one except all electric and metal-looking—appeared and the two tried to fight but there was this portal and…" He trailed off, unable to find the words and resorted to waving his arms as though swatting at Beedrills.

Nemona's eyes immediately shot to glare at Arven. "You! When are you going to stop being so weird—You and your father are behind this! Professor Turo is always behind the shady things happening around Paldea and you're always covering for him," she pointed an accusatory finger at the long-haired young man, "I'm telling Director Clavell and you are so going to be expelled!"

Arven scoffed but looked a bit unnerved, folding his arms before his rumpled shirt. "Still running to Clavell whenever you have a problem with someone, I see," Arven side-eyed her to see if his insult landed, "Koraidon's appearance here had nothing to do with me. And I can't tell you if Dad has anything to do with it since I have officially stopped talking to him."

"Probably for the best," Nemona muttered with a stubborn huff and turned to Brock, "he's a complete nut job from what I hear."

Arven shot her an angry look, but didn't respond.

"Koraidon?" Ash repeated, looking towards the scarlet reptile, its scales flashing in the grotto's dim light. "Is that your name?"

Koraidon nodded, attempting to stand back up, but collapsing again with a deep rumble.

Arven took out a pokéball. "Don't mind if I do," he gave Ash a strange, sheepish look, and then focused intently on Koraidon.

"You're not trying to catch it, are you?" Brock now stepped forward, moving towards the injured pokémon out of instinct to assess its damage. "This pokémon is obviously hurt."

"Um," Arven appeared embarrassed and shrugged, "yea, that's usually when you want to try and capture a pokémon."

Ash's eyes flashed a warning at Arven. "Don't do it."

"Or what?" Arven challenged, however his voice sounded hollow.

"Or the Monarch of the World will take you down, obviously," Nemona piped in, grinning her arrogant smile. "Just what do you want with this pokémon anyway? What even is a Koraidon? I've never heard of it and I know every pokémon in Paldea."

"It's not—," even with his pokéball in hand Arven scratched his head furiously in frustration. "Okay, maybe the pokémon does have something to do with my dad. But I'm just trying to help it! Koraidon needs to come with me, so I can figure out what to do with it before they—," Arven shut himself up before he could say more. Visibly, the flustered young man seemed to be kicking himself.

Brock, who'd been scrutinizing the situation with his keen eyes, addressed Arven with a stern voice. "This isn't just any ordinary pokémon, clearly." It wasn't a question. Everyone had picked up on that. Brock continued, "And in my experience, whenever there's a powerful pokémon, there's always someone—,"

"Or something," Ash added with a nod.

"—after it," Brock finished, tracking with his oldest friend. "So if your intention is to protect it, Arven, then maybe it should go with someone who can protect it."

Everyone looked at Ash.

Arven's face contorted into a conflicted scowl. "Of course," he began slowly, his mouth carefully working over his next words, "But…it's a bit complicated…"

"What's 'complicated,' Arven?" Nemona rolled her eyes, "the pokémon is hurt, it needs protection, and you have a champion literally right here. Ash happens to also be Scarlet Academy's newest Battle School student, and so he could take the pokémon to Director Clavell. If anyone would know what to do next, it's him."

Arven gritted his teeth and flinched. "That's…actually not a horrible idea," he muttered, making a face to indicate that he clearly hated this admission.

Nemona looked smug.

Ash, on the other hand, remained wary towards the whole situation. He glanced at Koraidon, its enormous colorful plumes seeming to deflate with exhaustion and fatigue. The Pokémon's large, golden eyes bore into his. "Look," the champion spoke up, "I'm not going to capture Koraidon against its will. That just seems wrong given the circumstance. Is there some other way to get the pokémon to safety? Or to this Clavell guy?"

Arven paused. He seemed to be continuing his internal debate, but finally pushed the pokéball in his hand out towards Ash. "Take this," Arven sighed, dropping the pokéball into Ash's outstretched palm.

Upon closer inspection, Ash noticed that what Arven held was no ordinary pokéball. The red and yellow orb had a strange and elaborate calligraphic symbol atop the release button.

"What is it?" Brock spoke up before Ash had finished studying the strange tool. "What is the marking there?"

Arven looked wary, but shrugged. "It's called a Trust Ball. A prototype. It's only supposed to work if the pokémon trusts you enough to let you catch it. On top of that, the pokémon is free to release itself whenever it wishes." Arven gestured towards Koraidon, "Koraidon's honestly too powerful to be held in anything but a Master Ball, and we all know those are impossible to come by, so I was given this…"

Nemona actually started laughing. "So your plan was to just waltz up to Koraidon and say, 'hey, can I help you? Would you please get inside this pokéball?' Arven! Are you insane?"

Ash looked at the Trust Ball, deliberating. He then turned to Koraidon, who appeared close to fainting. Its breaths were labored and erratic, and it hardly appeared to be conscious of the scene. Approaching the large, scarlet creature with care, Ash crouched down and held the ball up to the Pokémon's large eyes.

"Koraidon," he began, Pikachu hopping up beside his knee, "We want to help you. You're hurt and we need to take you somewhere to heal you, but it seems as though you're in no condition to travel."

The powerful beast stirred but seemed to emit no resistance. Its enigmatic eyes continued to bear down into Ash's.

Ash continued to hold up the Trust Ball. "Will you go in here for just a little while? We will take care of you and get you all healed. After that, you can go where you want. The ball will let you go."

"Well it really shouldn't go wherever it—," Arven began but trailed off under Nemona and Brock's affronted stares.

Koraidon eyed the contraption suspiciously for a moment before turning its gaze back to the young champion. It even looked at Pikachu for a moment, and the small mouse pokémon seemed to smile and urge Koraidon to let itself be momentarily captured. After a pause that felt like an eternity, Koraidon huffed and nudged its snout towards Ash's hand. The trainer tapped the release button onto the tip of Koraidon's nose, and the creature dissolved into an explosion of red light.

Ash saw the symbol on the pokéball glow blue as the object shook once…twice…three times. Then it went still and the symbol returned to normal.

"Well," Nemona began, interrupting the awkward silence that ensued, "this has been fun," she placed a peculiar emphasis on the last word, her own stress finally starting to leak through her confident front. "But I think it's time to get to the Academy…which will be our next interesting challenge since we missed the bus."

Ash didn't seem to hear her. He turned to Brock, handing the trainer the Marshtomp pokéball he'd borrowed earlier before securing the Trust Ball to his trainer belt. "Maybe you can also look at Koraidon when we get to the Academy," Ash suggested, adjusting the bill hat out of habit.

"Sure thing," Brock nodded, trying not to appear too impressed by how much Ash had grown. The old Ash would have jumped to conclusions, been more reckless, maybe would have even challenged Arven to a battle or chosen not to believe him. This pensive Ash, however, seemed to actually think certain things through…Brock found it fitting for a champion.

"Ok, I'm starving," Ash announced, clutching his grumbling belly.

"Well," Brock sighed, "some things never change."

Nemona glowered at Arven. "Can you and you Mabosstiff make yourselves useful and show us the way out of here?" She raised her hands to tighten her ponytail and return her Goodra. Pawmo resettled itself onto her shoulder.

"Are you always such a diva?" Arven snorted, but turned towards his hound.

"Your Mabosstiff looks awesome!" Ash praised, casting a friendly smile at Arven before lifting his Rotom phone to the pokémon.

Arven brightened at the sudden kindness. "Yea, he's my best bud," he grinned, looking down into his Pokémon's droopy, yet loyal eyes. "Come on, you all can crash at the Lighthouse for a bit before we figure out how we're getting Miss Diva President to school on time. I have plenty of food."

Nemona pouted but didn't bother to retort.

"Maybe you can also tell us a little more about Koraidon when we get there," Brock suggested, tightening his backpack for the ascent out of the cave, "might allow us to help it better."

At this, Arven cringed. He picked up his bike off the cavern floor. "I'll…I'll tell you what I know. But honestly, it's not much."

"Well, anything might be helpful at this point," Ash encouraged with his charismatic smile.

Arven looked as though he were about to say more, but resorted to just a nod.

And with that, the four began to grope through the dark and out of the grotto.


"I was all like, 'whoa, now! I did nothing'—and they were like, 'you were eavesdropping on our conversation about legendary pokémon'—and I said, 'No, I was just sitting in this tree'—And then I was teleported by some crazy guy's crazy awesome pokémon!" Goh's eyes were wide with excitement as he and Grookey gestured wildly during the story to convey its drama and intensity. The small monkey-pokémon seemed to reenact the entire scene, falling from Goh's head, onto his hands, shaking its head and raising its hands in terror before jumping and falling flat.

Over the video phone, Gary Oak appeared frantic. "Stop, just stop it! How loudly are you even talking?" The young researcher glanced over his shoulder in paranoia despite the fact no one could actually hear the conversation. Since when was Goh this animated? he thought irritably.

Gary had just arrived at Levincia's Pokémon Center after reaching the Paldean city on a small plane he'd managed to catch from Lumiose City. He'd gotten a work visa to enter the region thanks to Alexa. While he'd had to strike a deal with the Kalosian journalist, Gary needed the visa to get into Paldea with all of his scientific gear. He had decided to pose as a salesman for lab equipment.

"Just—hold on." With one last look around the center, Gary leaned in close to the screen and squeezed the phone receiver against his lips, "Look, I can't talk about this right now," Gary's violet eyes looked sternly at Goh,"but if any Paldean official finds out you're after legendary pokémon, Goh—you can kiss your chance to explore this region goodbye."

At this, Goh immediately sobered and returned to his more composed self. He nodded and took a glance around his own surroundings. "Right, sorry. These guys were just shady is all," the young trainer mused, thinking again about the man named Amethio and his powerful pokémon.

"I'll look into it," Gary sighed, understanding Goh's concern. "Write up a description of them and send it to me."

"Got it," Goh's crooked smile spread across his lips and he held a thumbs up to the screen, "how much can I tell Ash?"

Gary hadn't thought about that. "Nothing," he decided, "for now." Then he signed off the call and hung up the receiver.

The young researcher glanced at Umbreon, who had curled up on a cushioned seat besides the video phones. Next to the chairs, Gary spotted a stack of newspapers and tabloids. One had a picture of Ash disembarking a boat with the bold letters blaring across the front page: MONARCH IN PALDEA. This caused Gary to shake his head and smile slightly. "Looks like Ashy-boy can't hide from everyone," the researcher mumbled to his Umbreon, picking up the tabloid.

Behind the magazine, however, Gary noticed another interesting headline: POKÉMON PERFORMANCES DEBUT IN PALDEA.

On the cover was a stunning young woman, her golden hair flowing elegantly and catching the light in such a way that it seemed to shimmer with a multitude of subtle blonde hues. Her blue eyes sparkled with a vibrant intensity and matched the Paldean dress—a form-fitting garment with bodice and fitted waist which melted into a flowing skirt that flared out dramatically—Gary noticed was fashionable in the region.

"Why does this girl look so familiar?" Gary mused aloud, his Umbreon turning to cast a slow-blinking stare towards whatever it was that caught its trainer's attention. For some reason, Gary's mind went to Ash, as though he were somehow connected to this girl. After spending some moments thinking about it, Gary gave up and set both magazines down just as Nurse Joy indicated that his room was ready.


One month prior…

Gloire City, Kalos

Serena smiled. She could still hear the crowds roaring their approval and excitement while Monsieur Pierre announced the end of the Master Class. She struggled making her way further backstage, holding a mountain of flowers in her arms and weaving through the other performers who closed in to gush their compliments and well-wishes.

Her progress to the dressing room was slow, with every few steps interrupted by another well-wisher. Serena maintained her gracious demeanor, smiling and thanking each person, her heart full from the overwhelming support but her arms aching under the weight of the flowers, their sweet fragrance mingling with the heady scent of stage makeup and sweat.

Finally reaching her dressing room, Serena barely had a moment to catch her breath before her manager—Kathi Grace (sister to Diantha's manager Kathi Lee)—burst in. "Serena, you were phenomenal! The crowd is going wild out there. They're all waiting for you in the lobby," Kathi Grace spoke rapidly, not even bothering to glance up from her tablet and phone, both of which she seemed to be using simultaneously.

Without much chance to protest, Serena was quickly escorted to the lobby, her manager and body guards skillfully guiding her through the backstage labyrinth with polite yet stern announcements for people to "Move out of the way!"

As they emerged into the lobby, they were immediately greeted by a sea of flashing cameras and eager fans, their voices merging into a cacophony of excitement.

Reporters shouted questions, fans called out her name, and cameras scintillated across the lobby like sporadic lightning. Kathi Grace, accustomed to the intensity of the response, tried to create a path for Serena through the crowd. She gestured for Serena to sign autographs, pose for photographs, and engage with the fans who had gathered in droves to catch a glimpse of the Master Class star.

Serena, used to the attention but still humbled by it, moved through the crowd. Despite the chaos, she radiated a calm and poised presence, her graciousness and charm shining through in every interaction.

And while the cameras flashed and the fans screamed, Serena's clear blue eyes scanned the crowds as they always did…searching.

After an hour or so, Serena gradually withdrew from the energetic throng of fans and media and let Kathi Grace take over with final comments. The Kalos Queen navigated her way back to the dressing room, her mind a whirl of thoughts even as she continued to smile and interact gracefully with her admirers.

Back in the sanctuary of her dressing room, Serena finally had a moment to herself alongside her pokémon. The buzz of the crowd was now a muffled hum behind the closed doors. She glanced at the mountain of flowers sitting on a nearby table, their fragrance filling the room. Sighing softly, Serena sat down in front of the vanity mirror, her reflection gazing back at her with a mix of exhaustion, satisfaction…and yearning. She began to slowly remove her stage makeup, the action almost therapeutic, allowing her to wind down from the high of her performance and the subsequent fanfare.

The mirror reflected a face that had matured. Serena was not the same frightened, indecisive and insecure girl she'd once been. Nor could she really be called a "girl" anymore. Her maturity was evident in the composed and thoughtful expression she carried; her features having evolved from the youthful softness of a girl into the defined elegance of a woman.

Her large blue eyes, once wide and doe-like with the innocence and eagerness of youth, now held a depth of experience and determination. They reflected the wisdom and understanding she had gained through her journeys, sparkling with intelligence and a newfound assertiveness. Her gaze appeared more measured and piercing, capable of conveying her emotions and thoughts with greater clarity and intensity.

Serena's cheekbones were more pronounced, giving her face a sculpted look that accentuated her natural beauty. Her lips, perhaps once prone to uncertain smiles, now curved with confidence, reflecting her self-assuredness.

"You all were so amazing," Serena curved those lips now through the reflection at Pancham, Delphox, and Sylveon—all of whom had littered themselves across the dressing room furniture, exhausted. All three lit up at their trainer's praise, but Sylveon was the only one with enough energy to sigh out a response. Serena giggled.

As she was in the midst of this semi-conversation, Kathi Grace reentered the dressing room, her energy still buzzing. "Serena, you have visitors," she announced, looking up from her ever-present tablet. "It's Clemont and Bonnie. They're here to see you."

Serena's face lit up at the mention of her friends' names. She quickly tidied herself, her fatigue momentarily forgotten in the excitement of seeing familiar faces. "Let them in, please," she responded, her voice tinged with genuine happiness. It had been at least two months since she'd last seen the brother-sister duo, which was the longest stretch she'd gone without their company since returning to Kalos about a year and a half ago.

The door opened again, and Clemont and Bonnie stepped into the room. Clemont, with a shy grin on his face, held a small, wrapped gift in his hand, while Bonnie's youthful energy filled the room as she and her Dedenne ran up to Serena with enthusiastic hugs.

"Serena! You were amazing out there!" Bonnie exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration. "Unstoppable perfection! No one stood a chance!"

Clemont, a little more reserved but equally sincere, added, "Your performance, quite literally, was incalculable." He placed the gift—just a simple box of chocolates from the chocolatier Serena likes in Lumiose—on her dressing room vanity. As soon as he'd done so, his Chespin popped out from its pokéball and began sniffing suspiciously around the box.

"Thank you so much!" Serena grinned, her arms still wrapped around Bonnie, noticing that the girl had only gotten taller, "Oh, it is so good to see you both! Where are you staying? For how long? You must stay here in the castle and we can spend the day together tomorrow! I'll cancel all my plans!"

Kathi Grace, who'd remained in the room, grimaced, her bluelight glasses flashing. "That sounds—,"

"Amazing!" Bonnie finished, jumping up and down. "I can tell you all about the Raichu Clemont now has at the gym, and I'm officially going to start planning my own adventure next year! You have to help me decide what starter to get!"

The young girl prattled on and on. Serena listened enraptured with every word. She felt a reassuring sense of peace, her earlier restlessness replaced by the joy of shared companionship and the simple pleasure of reconnecting with old friends. However, she could not ignore a small throb of pain of nostalgia at seeing Bonnie and Clemont, especially when considering how the group was still incomplete.

"Oh my Arceus," Kathi Grace suddenly gasped and closed her hand over her mouth. She was on the phone, looking ecstatic but also terrified. "Oh, of course. Of course. Of course, Palermo, of course he can!" Kathi Grace repeated, shouldering her phone to type out something frantically on her tablet. "I'm letting them know right away to let you in. Yes, yes."

Kathi Grace hung up the phone and stared at Serena as though she'd just seen Jirachi come down from the heavens to fulfill a long-awaited wish. "Palermo is here," she stated simply, and looked as though she wanted to say more but couldn't.

Serena raised a delicate eyebrow at this. "Palermo's always here."

"Indeed, it would be amiss if Serena's producer was absent," Clemont observed, adjusting his spectacles.

"Urgh," Kathi Grace cast an irritated look towards the inventor. She quickly refocused her attention towards Serena, "I mean she's here with—,"

Palermo burst through the door without even so much as a knock. She made her entrance with her usual flair, exuding the effortless elegance and commanding presence of a Kalosian fashion icon. She was dressed impeccably, her outfit a testament to her status. Her coat, tailored to perfection, draped over her shoulders with a dramatic panache, while her accessories added just the right amount of sparkle without being overbearing. Her white hair was styled flawlessly, and her minimal makeup was applied with the precision of a master artist.

Beside Palermo walked a young man—perhaps in his late twenties—whose appearance could only be described as strikingly handsome. He had a rugged yet polished look, with dark, well-groomed hair and a perfectly trimmed beard that framed his strong jawline. His eyes were dark and intense and expressive, and he carried himself with a confident yet easy-going demeanor. Serena immediately guessed him to be foreign by the way he was dressed. He wore a smart suit that seemed tailor-made. The suit was of a fine quality fabric, its dark color accentuating his strong physique without being overly bold. The jacket of the suit was distinctively styled, perhaps with a slightly narrower lapel, which is a nod to modern fashion trends, yet it retained the classic structure that gave it a timeless appeal. However, it was the man's leather shoes and the shirt that caught Serena's interest. Underneath the jacket, he wore a shirt that was a lighter shade, possibly a crisp white or soft pastel, providing a beautiful contrast against the darker hue of the suit. The shirt was complemented by a cravat, something Serena had only seen in costumes.

The man's smile was charming and his presence magnetic, drawing attention effortlessly. He stood beside Palermo as if perfectly accustomed to the high-profile world she inhabited, yet there was a hint of arrogance in his posture as though fully aware of the effect his presence had on people.

Kathi Grace and Bonnie both flushed red enough to warm the room.

"Serena," Palermo drawled out her address to the Kalos Queen before removing the silk scarf around her neck. Not one to waste time, the producer continued, "Meet Guillermo Lebarón. He's my nephew, and the Head of the Contest Department at a prestigious institution in the region of Paldea."

Guillermo offered Serena, what she surmised, was his best smile. She remembered thinking immediately how the grin did not even hold a candle to another smile she knew well in memory.

"Señorita," Guillermo greeted, walking straight up to the Kalos Queen to plant a kiss on each of her cheeks. "It is an honor to meet you."

It was now Serena's turn to blush, though she attempted to obscure it with a gracious smile. "Paldea," she repeated, recognizing the region as the one that neighbored Kalos to the southeast.

"Ah! That explains the kisses on the cheek," Clemont raised a finger smartly, "it is their custom form of a greeting, especially among the elite."

Bonnie leaned over to Serena and muttered lowly for only her to hear, "I wish I'd gotten one of those."

Guillermo turned to Clemont, his expression one of amusement. He nodded good-naturedly, his Paldean accent lending a charming lilt to his words. "Yes, I apologize if I was too forward," he said, another smile on his lips, "but I was simply too excited to meet the Kalos Queen. You are quite the sensation, not just in Kalos. You have quite a following in Paldea as well."

Serena turned to Palermo as though waiting for an explanation. The former monarch sighed with mild impatience, but made herself comfortable in a nearby chair. "Kathi Grace, tea," Palermo intoned and the manager quickly scurried out of the room to fulfill the request. "Paldea and Kalos share very similar cultural interests, Serena. Especially in regards to their love of fashion, art, entertainment—,"

"And beauty," Guillermo's dark eyes found their way back to Serena. This time she did not react and his smile broadened.

Palermo ignored her nephew's brazen flirtatious advances as though they were nothing new. "The region already has a fabulous contest scene, but Guillermo here has an interesting proposition," she raised her eyebrows for the Paldean to continue.

"It is as Palermo says," Guillermo began politely, his hands clasped behind his back, "I am Head of Contests at Scarlet Academy, and oversee the Department of the Arts. My colleagues and I have watched your career, Miss Serena, with much interest. You won the Hoenn Grand Festival, then returned here to become Kalos Queen. A true performer."

"You bet she is! The best!" Bonnie, her mouth full of petit fours Kathi Grace had brought in with the tea, exclaimed with much fervor.

"Bonnie!" Clemont groaned, slightly mortified. Behind the inventor, Chespin ceased its devouring of the chocolates and turned its attention to the tea cakes.

"No, the girl is right," Guillermo's smile grew wider. "You have shown that you can crossover and accomplish both performing and coordinating with much success. That is why my colleagues and I wish to expand the Arts program to encompass Pokémon Performances. We believe this form of entertainment can be popular globally, not just in Kalos. Paldeans have already shown an interest—we love beautiful shows, after all—and perhaps if the Kalos Queen took a Paldean tour, it would inspire young ones across the region to study performance. And, of course, while the Kalos Queen was there she could enter into some contests to show her versatility? Show the young girls of Paldea that they can always do both as well?"

Palermo tapped a silver spoon against the porcelain of her teacup, and glanced up expectantly at Serena, "You could be a Kalos Queen and a Paldean Princess."

Serena's mind was in a daze. She felt as though she were being soaked by a powerful Water Gun of information. It was well past midnight, and Palermo was having tea while her foreign model of a nephew, who claimed to be some sort of professor, was trying to convince her to go to some region she knew very little about. Needless to say, Serena was overwhelmed.

"B-but," Serena began to speak, realizing all eyes were on her, "what about my duties as Kalos Queen?"

"The performance season is over," Palermo spoke languidly, taking a delicate sip from her cup. "We can have you film all of your pokevision videos in Paldea, and fly you over for any exhibition performances when needed. However, I believe Kalos will be thrilled at the idea of you taking your influence internationally. It will certainly help the economy and send a buzz about our region and pokémon performances. This type of entertainment needs more exposure."

"I completely agree," Guillermo appeared almost effervescent with excitement, though he tried to keep it under his cool control. "Please," he said, reaching into his pocket and gracefully procuring a card with his information printed on it, "give me a call when you are ready to discuss more. The school season begins in about a month, and we would love to have you there before then. You and your wonderful pokémon could help us bring in the new year."

Delphox, Pancham, and Sylveon had hardly stirred from their places, but watched the exchange with some fascination.

"I suppose we'll go then," said Palermo matter-of-factly. "Kathi Grace, order our car. We must drive immediately to Lumoise. Guillermo's flight leaves at dawn. He came all the way just to see the Kalos Queen," Palermo gave Serena a knowing look before making her grand exit.

Guillermo turned to follow the producer out the door, but not before giving Serena a solicitous wink.

When they had all left, Bonnie whirled on Serena like a Pigiot's gust. "You have to go. It sounds A-mazing! And then Clemont and I can go visit!" Bonnie turned imploringly to her brother.

"Maybe we should all get some rest," Clemont suggested, studying Serena and noticing her blank expression. He could tell she was overwhelmed and exhausted. "Bonnie and I will stay in the castle tonight," Clemont offered, hoping that would give his friend some comfort, "we'll come by your room first thing in the morning."

"Or early afternoon," Bonnie corrected with a dramatic yawn that Dedenne mimicked.

Serena smiled appreciatively at the two. When they left, She sat motionless, her eyes wide, reflecting the room's soft light like two sapphires caught in a gentle stream. Her thoughts were a tempest, swirling with the suddenness of the offer laid before her. All of it was muddled by the exhaustion she felt.

Sylveon approached and wrapped a comforting feeler around her trainer's wrist.

Serena put forth a mollified expression before looking towards all her pokémon. "Let's get some rest," she announced, much to their relief.

xxxxx

The next morning, Serena awoke at the first hints of dawn spilling in through the red velvet curtains of her room; the light casting a warm, golden glow across the opulent space.

Despite the softness of her bed and the light that beckoned a new day, Serena's mind was adrift in the fog of the previous night. The victory of the Master Class still hung in the air, an accomplishment that filled her with pride yet now seemed distant as the unexpected proposal from Guillermo loomed in her thoughts.

Serena sat up, stretching languidly, her movements slow, as if she were testing the reality of her surroundings. The suite, with its high ceilings and grand windows that offered a view of Gloire City's coastal shore, felt both familiar and alien all of a sudden, like a gilded cage of comfort that was at once suffocating and reassuring.

Serena's pokémon, awakened by her movements, watched their trainer with knowing eyes. They too seemed to sense the shift in the air, the undercurrent of change that the morning had brought. Delphox, with its flame-tipped tail, flickered embers in quiet contemplation, Pancham sat perched on a cushion, its usual mischievousness tempered by the room's stillness, and Sylveon's feelers moved forward to cling again gently to Serena's wrist, a silent show of support.

As Serena rose, the reality of her situation settled in with the weight of her crown. The joy of her victory was now intertwined with the threads of opportunity and decision. She approached the window, pulling apart the curtains, her gaze soon lost in the sprawling cityscape. The question of what lay beyond Kalos's borders, in the neighboring region of Paldea, called to her spirit of adventure. It had been a while since she traveled, and she had never really been one to stay put ever since…

Of course, Serena had always dreamed of becoming Kalos Queen. But had it really ever been her ultimate goal? Her ultimate desire? After winning the Hoenn Grand Festival, part of her felt as though she had returned to Kalos to wait. But wait for what? It was almost as though she had expected something to happen upon her return to her motherland—upon her becoming Kalos Queen. But nothing had happened.

After some time, Serena decided to take her turbulent mind off of everything with her typical morning routine, which began with exercise. "I'm going to the studio," she announced to her pokémon, and quickly changed into a pink leotard, a pair of cream-colored dance shorts, and worn sneakers. She left her shoulder length hair as it was, giving it only a quick brush before leaving her suite with her ballet shoes and studio bag slung across her shoulder.

In the quiet sanctuary of the ballet studio, Serena stood by the mirror, the morning light casting a soft glow around her. With each gentle plié, her muscles warmed, flexing and stretching in the reflection that bore her poised image back to her. Her feet, snug in the soft ballet shoes, whispered across the floor as she flowed into tendus, the arches of her feet pressing and pointing with an artist's precision.

She already began to feel better—more like herself. Ever since becoming a coordinator Serena saw the need for discipline and routine in her life to focus her mind for victory. She had seen what a single-focus driven mind could achieve and she desired to cultivate that within herself. Serena had always loved to dance, and found it an incredibly valuable skill as an entertainer; therefore, she decided to become proficient in ballet—she had wanted that control over her mind and her body the sport formed within its constituents.

Her leotard and tights hugged her form, a second skin that moved with her, accentuating the disciplined lines of her physique. The mirror was her silent partner, reflecting the grace of each movement, the extension of her leg in a développé, the controlled lift and fall of her arms in port de bras. It was a dance of control, a prelude to the day, a quiet conversation beckoning her mind to be still.

As the warm-up concluded, Serena paused, her breathing even and deep, her eyes meeting her own in the mirror. Already, her mind felt clearer and more alert.

"Serena! There you are!"

A voice echoed against the mirrored walls of the studio. The Kalos Queen turned to see Bonnie running up to her with a magazine behind her back. She looked flushed and excited and determined. Dedenne, who had evidently been left behind, appeared to struggle keeping up with the lemon-haired girl as it scampered along her trail.

Serena suppressed a giggle at the young girl's enthusiasm. "Bonnie, you're up early! This must be good!"

Bonnie slowed down, almost as though she were regretting her haste. In fact, she suddenly looked uncertain, but this only lasted half a second before a second wind propelled her forward, a new bounce to her step, towards Serena. "I think you have to go to Paldea," Bonnie began, looking as though she could hardly contain herself. She only smiled mischievously, the magazine still behind her small figure.

At this, Serena laughed aloud. "Oh do you? What have you been up to? Doing some late night research on Guillermo Lebarón?" the Kalos Queen teased.

"Well, yes and no," Bonnie breathed, biting her lip. "But trust me Serena. Paldea looks amazing. The women all wear these beautiful colorful dresses and they dance by whipping their skirts around. And the contest scene is supposed to be one of the most competitive in the world! In fact, they hardly let just anyone participate. You'd have so much fun going out and traveling again while you still get to do your shows! It's like the best of both worlds! You get to be Kalos Queen, but also keep climbing your way to top coordinator!"

Serena stared warily at the excited girl, "Okay, that's all true Bonnie, but why are you up at 7:00 a.m. to tell me all of this?"

"Well," Bonnie glanced at Dedenne, who looked just about ready to expire from exhaustion. "There's more."

"More?" Serena turned back to the mirror and took hold of the bar once again, returning to a pointe position. When the performer perceived Bonnie's nervous shuffling, Serena peered back at the young girl through the reflection.

And then the performer almost fell.

In Bonnie's hands was a magazine. On the front cover was a boy Serena knew. On the front cover, Serena read the words:

A Champion Prepares for Paldea.


Next update will be Sunday (12/24).