WOW. Thanks for all the feedback for that last chapter. I was nervous about what you all would think as I definitely took some risks as far as character exploration—and there wasn't that much action either—but you all seemed to really like it and I am still having some conversations with you all about our peeps, which is SO fun. Arven is really getting some love from the peanut gallery, which I adore.

Anyway, all of your excitement has really motivated me to get this next chapter up—so thank you! I guess it just goes to show how encouraging comments can be. Really appreciate you all!

A few notes:

- Gala was moved to the "end of the season" to give me time to set some plot points up before then. The gala's timeline, first mentioned in Chapter Seven, mentions how the event was supposed to take place at the end of the week. I definitely do not think I meant to write that. Maybe the end of the month? Anyway, a week is way to short a time between Serena's big showcase, the start of Scarlet Academy, and all that. So we are moving it to the nebulous thing called "the end of the season" haha
- The grunt with Amethio in Chapter 1 was originally named Wyatt. However, I recently learned that Amethio has a canonical grunt named Zirc, so I changed Wyatt's name to Zirc, and he will be Zirc hence forward. I find this important as—while not all of the Explorers will be featured in this story—Amethio's grunts will be.
- I did make the Stony Cliff Titan a little bigger and more powerful in order to be a more exciting foe for our heroes, who otherwise would probably boil that crab a bit too quickly.

Important announcement:

- There will be no new chapter next week as I will be working on grad school and hopefully a "short" V-Day special. (But I can't promise that it will actually come out on V-Day. LOL)
- I will have to go on a hiatus until at least the middle of March, during which I have a big report due for grad school. Report is due March 13th, so I will be working on that until then.
- In the meantime, however, I will be tightening up previous chapters, so come the end of February, feel free to pass the time by rereading the story—new details might be added to foreshadow future plot points as I now have most of the story fully outlined.
- After a chapter has been newly edited, I will indicate that with a timestamp so that you know there is something new that has been changed or cultural details/plot points corrected.
- There will be no major changes to what I had planned. Again, just adding hints and foreshadowing and correcting typos and cultural details.

Chapter 12: The Stony Cliff Titan

From the corner of his eye, Navarro noticed two distinct figures walking deeper into a vast, dimly lit chamber, their presence almost as commanding as the room itself. Blue and purple lights illuminated the space in a soft, otherworldly glow while geometric lines and angles created an intricate dance of luminescence, forming patterns that drew the eye deeper into the expanse.

The older man, with his sharp, angular features, was clad in a traditional butler's uniform, embellished with gold accents that lent an air of nobility. His face was stern, composed, and his hair, gray as slate, was impeccably groomed, complementing the crisply cut bangs that obscured one of his tapered eyes, lending him an enigmatic aura.

Beside him, a younger individual bore an expression of subtle wariness and respect, his gaze fixed forward, revealing the violet eyes that contrasted with his ashen skin. His half white, half black hair fell in soft waves just past his shoulders. He wore a modern, fitted suit with a high collar and a triangular amethyst pendant that rested above his heart, indicating a status of significance.

As Navarro's gaze ascended toward the duo, his demeanor betrayed no surprise, but a muscle twitched along his jawline—a tension he preferred concealed. Nearby, Santiago Márquez, immersed in his element, orchestrated a group clad in lab attire around a panel of computers and screens. The machines appeared to be connected to the monolith via a series of complicated wires and coils.

The chamber stretched around them, its opulence understated, its high ceilings reaching into the embrace of shadow. Lights punctuated the expanse; the steady cadence of keystrokes and soft murmurs of consultation filled the air.

"Hamber, Amethio—," Navarro addressed them, noticing the Dusknoir and Ceruledge that trailed them. Eduardo's nod to Hamber released a subtle exhale of relief, as if the very sight of the familiar presence steadied him. Yet, as his eyes drifted to Amethio, Navarro's comfort recoiled. Amethio's pallor, a canvas of calculation, stood in sharp relief against the chamber's vibrancy, sending a ripple of disquiet through the CEO. "What brings you both to the lab? I'm afraid there is nothing to report. We've had no word or hint of Turo or the Paradox Pokémon."

Santiago Márquez's head lifted from the intricate dance of his work, his gaze catching on the two figures. His dark eyes narrowed in an instinctive reaction to an unspoken tension. The lines etched prematurely into his visage deepened with a frown, marking his discomfort as clear as ripples on still water.

Hamber eyed the towering monolith behind Eduardo and Santiago. The strange object hummed with an eldritch violet light that coursed up and down the obsidian glass like veins pulsing with blood.

Hamber and Amethio now walked side by side toward this enigmatic edifice. Dusknoir and Ceruledge followed them noiselessly. Around them, others were scattered in the shadows, each person dwarfed by the scale of the laboratory.

Meanwhile, Santiago's voice broke the near-silence. He hunched over a holographic projection of Area Zero, a tangle of incomplete pathways and dead ends floating before him. "I don't understand," he confessed, unsure of what held the hologram's delicate strands together. "How has Professor Turo vanished without a trace and with all of his records. We will never open the Gate without him."

Hamber's approach ceased a precise meter from Navarro with a measured click of heels. He clasped his hands behind him, while his Dusknoir, an ever-vigilant shadow, came to rest by his side.

"We have news regarding one of the Paradox Pokémon. The Koraidon," he announced matter-of-factly.

Navarro's brow, interrupted by flecks of age, arched while his nose creased, a distaste for the information souring the expression that momentarily claimed his features.

"What do we know?" he pressed, the words crisp.

In the periphery, Amethio and Ceruledge stood. Hamber's eyes sought Amethio's for a fleeting moment before returning his attention to the CEO.

"Our informants have corroborated the Monarch's acquisition of the creature," Hamber disclosed, his mustache hardly moving as he spoke with rapid succinctness.

A current of surprise jolted through Navarro and Santiago, their eyes locking in a silent volley of disbelief and concern.

"The creature must be secured at once," Santiago moved with immediacy, his glasses teetering at the brink of his nose in his hastened fervor. "Its significance to our research is paramount—not to mention its lure for Professor Turo."

Hamber's head motioned in a subtle negative, a quiet refutation of Santiago's urgency. "There is no need," he suggested, his head tilting just so, an angle aimed at persuasion. "Apprehending the Pokémon now would cast a spotlight we can ill afford. While it remains contained, the risk of drawing the Council of Champions into our affairs is minimal."

He paused, allowing his logic to permeate the tension in the room. "Moreover, with the monarch holding Koraidon, we maintain a thread of awareness. We will have the leverage to act decisively when the moment demands it." His eyes, gray and stern, held theirs.

Navarro's hand journeyed to his chin, the rasp of stubble under his fingers grounding his contemplation. "But isn't the boy a part of the Council?" he mused aloud, testing cracks in the strategy.

"Our informant assures us he is not. His age has yet to align with their criteria." Hamber's response was swift, a gentle correction plaited with the confidence of verified facts.

Across the room, Santiago removed his spectacles, his fingers clearing the slight fog from his lenses. "But the presence of the Pokémon... it could lead them to Area Zero, could it not?" The question hung between them, his concern clear as the now unclouded glass through which he peered.

"The region's eyes are trained on Area Zero. Let that be their preoccupation while we focus on our objectives." Hamber's declaration carried a tide of certainty. His gaze, for a moment, sharpened with purpose. "Ash Ketchum seeks to restore Koraidon to its proper place, a path not unlike ours. Our desire to trace its origins mirrors his, but with the added intent of mapping our own route. Furthermore, with Arven allying with the Monarch, ostensibly to locate his father, our paths converge. Finding Professor Turo aligns with their quest."

Santiago's features remained knit, his doubt a cloak he wasn't yet ready to shed. Navarro, on the other hand, found the tide of his reservations ebbing as the logic in Hamber's words wove through his thoughts, a reluctant admission of their strategy's merit dawning on his expression.

"Very well," Navarro conceded. Hamber, with his enigmatic new aide, might have stirred a discomfort in Navarro's gut, yet the elder's strategies had proven themselves time and again as nothing short of invaluable. The CEO couldn't help but acknowledge the expanse his company had reached, a testament to the wisdom Hamber offered—a wisdom that, while potent, would not come without its price, Navarro knew.

"Any news on your team's efforts in securing more Herba Mystica from Area Zero? The señora's condition worsens," Navarro inquired, a thread of concern woven through the cold exterior of his tone.

Hamber allowed a thin, placating smile to lift the corners of his gray mustache. "We are doing all we can to keep up our end of the bargain, señor. Rest assured."

Behind Hamber, a subtle tell betrayed Amethio's composed exterior—a twitch, fleeting as a shadow's shift, escaped his eye. Santiago caught this minor disturbance, the observation unsettling him further. Trust between Santiago and these men had never taken root. Hamber's aura, woven with strategies and counsel, always seemed to Santiago a facade masking deeper, undisclosed intentions. Promises, no matter how grand, resonated with a hollow ring in his ears.

This unease prompted Santiago to move. He shifted his stance and his hands found purpose in adjusting the fabric of his white lab coat.

"And what about the Miraidon? We will need to capture it soon before it too draws attention," Santiago's voice needled through the air with a nervous edge. His inquiry, veiled as concern, was yet another litmus test for Hamber's competence—a silent wish for the financier's veneer to crack, revealing a flaw Santiago could seize upon.

Hamber, unfazed, motioned towards Amethio and the silent, formidable presence of his Ceruledge. "This is precisely why I have enlisted my ward in our endeavors," he stated with unwavering coolness. "His prowess as a trainer is unparalleled, ensuring the Miraidon's containment will be but a matter of execution once it is located."

Navarro's gaze lingered on Amethio with an edge of suspicion. The young man's demeanor carried an air of indifference, a silent rebuff to any notion of respect expected by Eduardo. "What about the bounty hunter? Perhaps your ward could work with him," Navarro suggested, feeling the need to possess some control over the situation. Amethio, autonomous and aloof, remained beyond Navarro's direct sphere of command, fueling his desire for an ally equally on his side. "Perhaps we will invite him to the Palacio this week, and we can test the abilities of both your ward and the hunter. See who's more capable…"

Hamber's reaction was a study in restraint; his lips pressed into a tight, white line. Yet, his reply betrayed none of the tension that his posture suggested. "Excellent idea, señor," he responded, the words measured, dripping with a diplomacy that contradicted the tightness of his wrinkled face. "I will see to this."

With a synchronized grace, Hamber and Amethio inclined their heads, a gesture of departure as much as it was of respect. Their exit was marked by a passage through the labyrinthine glow of the laboratory, where the dance of lights and the precision of geometric shadows on the floor pointed ever back to the electronic behemoth they left behind.

Hamber paused, his gaze lingering on the illuminated giant, a silent acknowledgment of its significance before he turned, following the path that led them to the monochromatic steel doors. These doors parted with a whispered hiss of air as they stepped into the sterility of a chrome hallway.

Silence was their companion, save for the soft footfalls and the diaphanous presence of Dusknoir and Ceruledge pacing beside them. As soon as it was appropriate, Amethio broke the quiet, his voice carrying the soft timber of high-breeding, the finesse bespeaking of a life cradled in the lap of refined society.

"I assume Navarro is still ignorant of our true intentions?"

Hamber's response remained a fortress of calm, his visage a mask that revealed nothing of the storm beneath. "Of course," he affirmed. "Master Gibeon asks that we momentarily suspend our search for the Tera Pokémon as it has been learned the legendary resides in a pendent, the location of which remains unknown. Thus, our immediate focus shifts to securing the Ancient Poké Ball, a directive that now takes precedence in our endeavors."

"And Navarro doesn't entrust you with its location?" Amethio probed, his question hanging in the air like a feather poised to tip the scales.

Hamber's shoulders lifted in a shrug, betraying a subtle frustration to the complexities of their chess game with the CEO. "Navarro continues to believe that we are only after the enigmas of Area Zero. We should keep it that way. While I hold a position of trust in his eyes, Navarro guards the location of his ancestral treasure like a dragon with its gold, considering it a bargaining chip in his arsenal. To him, control is akin to breathing—a necessity for survival." Hamber's hands opened, a silent testament to the elusive nature of their current quest.

"But Navarro's pursuit to mend his wife's ailment has tunneled his vision, fixating him on the Herba Mystica of all things. A fixation that allows us into the Crater, but that Master Gibeon leveraged upon us prematurely." A pause, heavy with implication. "Navarro simply wants results, and so far the Herba Mystica that we found have provided no permanent solutions, and we do not have the capacity at this time to obatin trivial plants."

Amethio, digesting the layers of their conversation, sought clarity on their guise. "Who does Navarro think we are, then?"

Hamber revealed a subtle smile, the corners of his mustaches curling like the whiskers of a feline. "A group of private collectors."

"And Arven?" Amethio's nod was thoughtful, aligning another piece on the board. "Our intel suggests he's on a similar quest for the Herba Mystica. He has been studying the Herba since entering the Academy."

Hamber paused, his gaze narrowing, a sculptor eyeing the marble before the chisel strikes. "Indeed… an oversight on my part." A strategy, previously unconsidered, began to crystallize in the older gentleman's mind. "This information could very well tip the scales in our favor."

"We could intercept what he uncovers?" Amethio ventured.

Hamber, however, was quick to steer away from direct confrontation. "We should not overtly involve ourselves with that anymore than with the Koraidon," he cautioned, his mind weaving through scenarios. After a beat of contemplation, he added, "However, we could approach Arven ourselves—indeed, I have been thinking about doing this for some time."

"How would approaching him be any less overt than simply stealing from him?" Amethio asked, his mild frustration at not being able to keep up with Hamber's inner workings apparent.

"Because," the older gentleman began, his tone dipping into the realms of cunning, "a fabricated pledge could win us his... collaboration."

Amethio, lips pursed, shared a look with his Ceruledge. "Care to elaborate?"

Hamber leaned into the conversation with a conspiratorial whisper. "Arven might already be wary of us; Turo's forewarnings could have planted seeds of distrust. In any case, the boy knows of our existence. Yet, he remains silent, fearing disbelief, given Turo's own reputation." A pause. "We could, however, offer him a trade: Arven hands us the elusive Herba Mystica, and we give him purported information on Turo's whereabouts."

"But we know nothing of where Turo might be," Amethio pointed out, the flaw in their ruse seemingly apparent.

"That," Hamber said, a flicker of strategy lighting up his eyes, "is irrelevant." The unspoken truth between them was that the veracity of their information mattered less than its perceived value, a chess move in a game where perception was the reality.

Wattrel had been minding its own business. Truly.

The Electric bird, her plumage a delicate blend of storm cloud grays and electric yellows, sliced through the skies with her flock, an aerial caravan traversing the vast canvas of the Paldean skies. They were nomads of the air, chasing the retreating veil of summer from the lush east coast to the more temperate western edges to savor the late season's bounty.

Wattrel's path was one of instinct and ancestral memory, a silent rhythm running through its wings. The landscape below morphed into terrain sculpted by the winds of time, a rugged maze of rock and earth painted in the bold colors of a setting sun.

While Wattrel did its best to stay focused on the flight at hand, the Flying-type couldn't help but start scanning the ground below with its keen eyesight. The bird Pokémon liked to play games with itself from time to time—seeking out objects that pop into her mind, or coming up with names for the shapes it saw in the cliffs. Either way, it was during one of these scans that Wattrel saw it—a very large rock. Moving?

This didn't make any sense. Rocks didn't move did they? Unless they were Geodudes or Golems…But that was way too big to be another Pokémon. Its movements were causing small cascades of rock to tumble down the cliff faces.

With a twinkle of roguish intrigue in its keen eyes, Wattrel angled her wings and embarked on a gentle, spiraling descent. Whatever this was, it would probably make a pretty good story. If Wattrels liked anything it was juicy gossip to chip chirp about for their beach gatherings. And Wattrel was so sick of stories about how these Lapras migrated over here or there; or how those Gyrados almost ate so and so. Boring.

Big moving rock? Fun.

Wattrel gave its flock the old 'be right back' chirp, a promise that it'd return with the scoop. With a few flaps of its wings, the Electric/Flying-type broke away from the formation and dove into the heart of the canyon. The bird buzzed with the thrill of its little solo mission.

As Wattrel zipped along, the red walls of the canyon were a blur in its peripheral vision—so vivid yet passing by in such a rapid flash that it couldn't take everything in. Wattrel was a bullet with wings, darting through the air with the kind of speed that made the details of the rocks meld into a streaky mess.

For a second, it had lost sight of the rock creature. Where'd the big guy go? Wattrel thought, banking hard to the left, then to the right, her eyes scanning the passing precipices. It was like playing the world's most extreme game of hide and seek, except with a massive moving rock in a giant rocky maze.

Wattrel's sharp gaze caught a flicker of movement again. Chirping, it turned sharply as the 'rock' moved. But as Wattrel got a clearer view, its eyes widened.

It was no rock, but indeed a massive Pokémon. This creature was a real unit, a chunky one at that. It looked like a Klawf, Wattrel noted, having seen many of those before—but why was this one so big? Its body was hefty, fitted with what looked like armor that could take a hit and not even flinch. The big crustacean had a tan face with eyes that stuck out on stalks, making Wattrel think it must be great at staring contests. Its shell was a mix of cream and orange fitted with gray spikes that bolstered its defensive hull.

As Wattrel ventured closer, the massive Pokémon's sharp eyes caught the bird's movement. In a swift defensive maneuver, one of its powerful rocky claws rose up, a natural reflex against the perceived intrusion. The appendage sliced through the air with surprising agility.

Wattrel, diminutive in comparison, was agile but not quick enough to dodge the full brunt of the swat. The claw grazed her wing, a sharp pain shooting through her feathers. It wasn't a severe injury, but it was enough to throw the bird off its elegant flight path.

With a startled squawk, Wattrel banked sharply, flapping wildly to regain its balance and evade any further strikes. The air around the Electric/Flying-type thumped with frantic wingbeats as Wattrel zigzagged through the air, attempting to put distance between itself and the large Pokémon's threatening claws.

Having narrowly evaded a second clash with the colossus, Wattrel darted through the canyon with less of its usual grace. Its flight grew erratic, a clear sign of her distress as it sought a sanctuary to examine the wound. It needed to land, to rest and recuperate, even if just for a moment.

As Wattrel weaved between the rock formations, her keen eyes caught sight of a couple of figures in the distance. They were heading straight towards the very monster that had just lashed out at her. Concern flickered through the bird, mingling with the throbbing pain in its wing.

Despite the ache that pulsed with each wingbeat, Wattrel felt a pull—a duty to inform the approaching strangers of the danger they were walking into. Mustering its strength, Wattrel began to descend, aiming for a clear spot near the travelers, ready to alert them to the potential threat with chirps and fluttering movements. It was a risk, but one it felt compelled to take.

Nemona stood across from Mela in a natural arena, a verdant, grassy bowl cradled by towering red cliffs that seemed to capture and amplify the sun's increasing heat. The air shimmered, thick with the scorching midday warmth that made the very atmosphere around them quiver. Sweeps of heat waves rose off the ground, distorting the grass.

Surrounding them, Goh, Penny, and the assorted members of Team Star had formed a wide circle, embodying a spectrum of expressions from excitement to apprehension. Goh held a confident smirk on his face. Penny, more reserved, placed a calm hand on her Vaporeon as though to steady herself, her gaze darting between the two opponents, analyzing the scene with an almost conflicted interest.

The Team Star members varied in their demeanor from smug confidence in their leader's abilities to a cautious respect for the challenger before them. They had all heard of Nemona and knew she wasn't to be underestimated. Their chatter and murmurs gradually faded into a tense silence. All eyes were fixed on the two girls, the center of this sun-drenched amphitheater.

Goh cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his shout, "You got this Nemona!"

"Grookey! Grook!" Beside him, Grookey, perched on Goh's shoulder, chimed in with equal fervor, its small ape-like fists pumping the air as it cheered.

Penny offered her support with much less enthusiasm. She adjusted her glasses and muttered, "Yea, go you…" in a way that suggested she was more preoccupied with the potential outcomes than the cheerleading.

Nemona responded with a confident flip of her hair and a playful wink. "Thanks, guys!" She turned back to Mela "Let's do this!" Her eyes sparkled against the sun's heat.

Mela wore an expression of languid boredom, her words rolling off her purple lips with a drawl that dripped with irritation, "It's two-v-two and I get to pick who you choose." Her posture, relaxed to the point of indifference, obscuring the strategic mind working behind her casual facade.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Nemona protested, waving her arms. If there was one thing she hated it was people who didn't play by the rules…or her rules, she should say.

With a smirk, Mela retorted, "My camp, my terms. Your Lycanroc and Pawmo look ready, so might as well use them, right?"

Nemona's fists clenched at her sides, her knuckles whitening with the effort. She knew Mela's game; despite being a Rock-type and super effective against whatever Fire-type Mela had in store, Lycanroc was already exhausted from the previous Star Barrage, her stamina drained to a critical point. And Pawmo, still young and undertrained, would be an easy target for a seasoned trainer like Mela. Nemona's mind raced, appraising the situation, her strategic acumen parsing through her options, weighing the odds. Despite the disadvantage, a fierce determination lit her eyes. She understood Mela's tactics, yet she also knew the heart and potential of her Pokémon.

Taking a deep breath, Nemona solidified herself like steel. She lifted her chin, her gaze locking onto Mela's with an intransigent spirit. "Fine, let's go!" she declared and brought a tightly closed fist before her face.

Then Nemona extended her arm, pointing forward. "Lycanroc, go ahead," she commanded, firm and clear.

Lycanroc responded with a nod and leapt out in front of its trainer, landing with grace before shaking its slate-like fur, readying itself. A deep, resonant "Roc, roc," rumbled from the wolf's slackened jaws.

"Go! Torkoal!" Mela announced as she enlarged a Pokéball between her fingers, practically slamming it down onto the ground as though she were bringing her hand down to strum wildly on a guitar.

The crowd focused their attention as Mela released her Torkoal. The Fire-type took its place on the field, smoke billowing from its nostrils and shell.

Mela pushed her fiery bangs away from her face and then shot her hand forward. "Well, I'm not one to waste time. Torkoal—Flame Wheel!"

Torkoal ignited its body in a fiery blaze and rolled towards Lycanroc at a high speed, turning itself into a tornado of flames and embers.

Nemona responded quickly. "Lycanroc, side-step and use Stone Edge!" Lycanroc agilely moved aside, avoiding the Flame Wheel attack with ease. At Nemona's order, it summoned sharp, jagged rocks from the ground, sending them hurtling towards Torkoal.

Mela's next move sliced through the thunderous attack, "Use Clear Smog, Torkoal!"

Torkoal, with a deep, resonant grunt, culled up a clod of poisonous mud, a dense and murky substance that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The jagged rocks, previously launched with pinpoint accuracy towards the fire tortoise, met the clods midair. Each rock, moments away from striking Torkoal, was intercepted by the thick, viscous mud, effectively neutralized, their momentum halted as they fell harmlessly to the ground before Torkoal's robust legs.

"Now, Torkoal, Earth Power! Keep on the pressure!"

At her command, Torkoal's stance widened, its eyes narrowing in concentration. The ground beneath Lycanroc's feet, previously solid and stable, began to tremble ominously. Without warning, it erupted, a forceful surge of energy bursting forth as if the very earth had come alive. Geysers of dirt and silt shot upwards—the ground breaking apart in violent upheavals as if it sought to swallow the rock-type Pokémon whole.

Nemona gritted her teeth. "Lycanroc, Acceleroc through the debris!"

Lycanroc mustered its strength. The Pokémon, its pale eyes hazing with signs of fatigue, focused on the task at hand. With a powerful leap, the wolf Pokémon—a white auric glow humming through her fur—launched into the air, aiming to navigate the disarray of the erupting ground, skillfully weaving between the eruptions of topsoil and stones that shot upwards like deadly spires.

However, it was still taking damage. Too much damage.

Lycanroc's usually fluid movements grew labored, its breaths coming in sharp gasps. The relentless pace of the battle—combined with the previous exertions and the current need to evade the terrain—took its toll. Despite its efforts to maintain speed, Lycanroc's steps began to falter.

Mela's green pupils dilated as she observed the scene. "Torkoal, intensify, Earth Power!" she ordered, her eyes fixed on her struggling opponent.

Torkoal responded with a deep, resonant sound. "Tor—KOAL!" Its roar vibrated through the air, concentration peaking as it summoned even greater energy from the depths of the earth. The ground trembled with renewed vigor, the attack manifesting as a violent upheaval directly beneath Lycanroc's paws.

As Lycanroc darted and dodged with what strength she had left, a particularly large boulderstone, destabilized by the intensified attack, broke free. It shattered the pattern of Lycanroc's Accelerock mid-leap—her trajectory altered at the worst possible moment. The once precise and calculated dashes through the debris turned into a desperate scramble for stability.

Lycanroc's paws found no purchase on the shifting ground, the large rock's dislodgement proving to be the critical blow. The wolf Pokémon was sent tumbling through the air, its body crashing through the rocky maelstrom until at last finding the ground with a force that left the audience in stunned silence. The dust settled around Lycanroc's motionless form, effectively knocked out.

The battlefield fell eerily silent for a moment.

Nemona wiped a bead of sweat trickling down the side of her face from beneath her bangs. She extended her arm, the Pokéball in her grasp aimed at her fallen companion. "You did great, Lycanroc. Return!" Her expression, though steady, carried an undercurrent of rare unease.

Her gaze lingered on the Pokéball for a moment longer than necessary, her brows knitting together as she turned her attention back to the battlefield. Across from her, Torkoal stood, its posture unyielding, its breathing even. None of Lycanroc's efforts had significantly worn it down, let alone inflicted any notable damage.

Nemona's hands clenched at her sides, not from the heat nor from any physical exertion, but from the churn of strategies and possibilities racing through her mind. She glanced down at Pawmo. The Electric-rodent, still so new to the rigors of battle, waited for her signal. The young Pokémon's eagerness was undeniable, but so was its lack of experience.

For a fleeting second, doubt shadowed Nemona's resolve, the realization of the uphill battle they faced settling in. Yet, as she watched Pawmo, who smiled up at her and gave Nemona—what she interpreted—as a thumbs up, the two shared a tenacity that needed no words. With a deep breath, Nemona lifted her chin, her decision made not out of desperation, but from a place of trust in Pawmo's spirit and their bond.

With a grin spreading across her features, Nemona's stance shifted. "Alright, time for the grand finale!" The spark in her amber eyes grew vivid as a flame. Around her, the air sweltered with heat, each spectator leaning in, drawn to the moment. The battlefield now set the stage for the climax, with Nemona and Pawmo at its heart, poised to make their move.

In the golden light of the afternoon, Charcadet rode on Arven's Mabosstiff, its small frame soaking in the rays. The warmth felt like a gentle pat, encouraging Charcadet's playful spirit. The Fire-type had grown utterly bored on this little hunt—or whatever it was. Charcadet wasn't really sure what they were looking for. Ash had told them all to keep their eyes out for something or other, but the Fire Child Pokémon hadn't brought itself to really pay attention to details..

That's when Charcadet's eyes landed on Pikachu, who was trotting along beside them, all attentive and serious. Seeing Pikachu so intent, while Charcadet couldn't find a single care to give, sparked a playful idea in the Fire-type.

Charcadet, a bit stir-crazy, spotted a rock on the ground. With a "this could be fun" smirk, the Fire sprite jumped off Mabosstiff like it was diving into a pool of mischief. With a quick flick, Charcadet sent the rock skidding towards Pikachu, just for kicks.

The rock landed on Electric mouse's head, causing it to pause and scan the area, puzzled about the origin of this sudden interruption. Charcadet, in the meantime, had swiftly returned to the Mabosstiff, camouflaging itself within the creature's thick fur. Peering out from its hiding spot, Charcadet struggled to suppress its snickers, enjoying the successful execution of its playful antics.

Pikachu's ears twitched in annoyance as it picked up a faint chortling. It didn't take a detective to figure out who was behind the immature prank…The time Pikachu had spent around Charcadet had already given the Electric-Type a hint about the Fire Pokémon's need for attention—always up to some kind of playful trouble to get it. With a little sigh that said, "Here we go," Pikachu realized it might be time to teach the Fire sprite a lesson on maturity, or at least how to pick a more appreciative audience for its jokes.

Feeling pretty confident he'd gotten away with it, Charcadet peeked upside down between Mabosstiff's legs, scanning for Pikachu to make sure the coast was really clear. But, no sign of the Electric mouse anywhere. Shrugging it off, Charcadet hopped down from the giant canine, who honestly couldn't care less about the shenanigans. Spotting another smooth pebble, Charcadet was all set for round two when—

A zap of electricity buzzed through it, making Charcadet yelp and drop the pebble like it was full of sparks—because, well, it suddenly was. Whirling around, Charcadet found Pikachu perched smugly on top of Mabosstiff, wearing a grin that could only mean "Gotcha!"

Mabosstiff let out a long exhale, the kind that said, "Really, we're doing this now?" Clearly, he wasn't thrilled about being turned into a stage for their little power play.

Charcadet's orange eye twitched with irritation before it launched a fiery punch in Pikachu's direction. Pikachu, quick on its paws, dodged with ease, but the maneuver sent an ember into Mabosstiff's fur, lighting it up in a brief flare. Panicked, the canine jumped and rolled on the ground, snuffing out the flames in a hurry. Once the fire was out, Mabosstiff, clearly peeved by the ordeal, flicked its paw—right beside where Charcadet stood—and sent the little Fire Child flying into a nearby rock wall.

Back atop Mabosstiff, Pikachu let out a snicker, joined by the canine. Charcadet, dusting itself off, felt the sting of embarrassment. It was fed up with always being one step behind Pikachu, craving a moment to shine and show everyone that despite its size, it was not to be underestimated.

Fired up and ready to go, Charcadet was about to unleash a newly learned Ember attack, determined to make a stand, when Ash stepped in. The raven-haired trainer placed a calming hand on Charcadet. The gesture alone was enough to halt the fire Pokémon in its tracks.

"Hey there, Charcadet," Ash squatted next to the Fire-type, keeping his tone light and full of warmth. "Let's dial it back a bit, huh?" he said, throwing a friendly grin. "Gotta say, that Fire Punch was something else. You were this close to nailing Pikachu!" He gave Charcadet a gentle pat, showing his support.

Charcadet glanced up at Ash. "Charca-det?" it seemed to question, half-heartedly soaking up the praise.

Ash beamed. "You bet! Keep at it, and Pikachu won't know what hit him next time!" He threw a playful wink Pikachu's way.

Pikachu, getting the gist, offered a good-natured nod and chirped, "Pika—pi!"

Feeling a whole lot better after the pep talk, Charcadet's spirits lifted. In a burst of energy, it hopped right onto Ash's shoulder with a gleeful "Charcadet!" It was like claiming a spot of honor, and Charcadet squinted its eyes happily, thrilled to be there and basking in the moment.

Ash couldn't help but laugh. "Easy there, buddy," he chuckled, balancing the eager Pokémon on his shoulder.

Pikachu watched the two of them, a pleased look in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Arven continued to hunch over his map, his eyes flicking back and forth from the paper to the surrounding landscape. He seemed to be cross-referencing their location, a slight rut in his brow indicating his concentration. "I don't know, maybe we—" he started, trailing off as he looked up once more, as if to double-check a landmark or a turn in the path.

Suddenly—out of nowhere—something zoomed straight into Arven's face.

The botanist fell to the ground with a thud.

"Whoa!" Ash exclaimed, exchanging glances with the Pokémon at the unexpected commotion.

Hovering and flapping around Arven, who was now flat on his back, was a bird Pokémon of some sort. The Flying-type was yapping wildly, its wings stirring up a mini whirlwind of orange dust and silt.

Arven looked completely dazed beneath it, little stars swirling around his head as he tried to make sense of what just hit him.

"Hey, there, uh—" Ash fumbled for his Rotom Phone, flipping it open to identify the frenzied creature. He needed a second to confirm its identity and maybe figure out why it decided to dive-bomb Arven out of the blue.

Wattrel, the Storm Petrel Pokémon. When its wings catch the wind, the bones within produce electricity. This Pokémon dives into the ocean, catching prey by electrocuting them.

Unable to contain his excitement at the new encounter, Ash grinned. "Cool!"

Arven, meanwhile, was still on the floor, mouth twisted in pain. "I don't deserve this," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Slowly, he picked his disheveled from up and began to brush the red dirt off his vest, trying to regain some semblance of dignity after the unexpected tackle.

Wattrel hopped on the ground no longer flapping around Arven but clearly nursing an injury. Despite its pain, the bird Pokémon seemed determined, almost frantic, to communicate something urgent. Its movements were pointed, deliberate, as if reenacting a recent ordeal.

"I think Wattrel's trying to tell us something!" Ash observed, noting the Pokémon's insistent gestures.

Still dusting himself off, Arven couldn't help but quip, "Yeah, maybe that I'm literally a magnet for pain."

Wattrel, undeterred by the human banter, started gesticulating more emphatically. It mimicked actions of struggle and confrontation, flapping its wings less now and using its body to act out a tale of conflict against a much larger foe.

Pikachu's rapid chirping caught Ash's attention, his body language animated. "Pika, Pikachu! Pika, pi, pi!"

"No way!" Ash began piecing the message together and shared the revelation. "Hey, Arven! This Wattrel encountered a huge moving rock!"

Arven paused, his brows fusing together in thought. "What? Okay, that's..."

Memories flashed through Arven's mind, recalling Professor Jacq's briefing about unusual readings on the seismograph near where intel placed the Herba Mystica. The connection started to click. The anomaly in their data—tremors—a moving rock—suddenly all of it seemed less like an anomaly and more like a clue.

His resolve firming, Arven nodded. "We should go investigate it."

"Hey, Wattrel," Ash carefully lifted it into his hands and turned his attention to the Wattrel, "do you think you could show us where you saw this thing?" His voice was gentle, inviting trust.

The Wattrel's gaze flickered, showing weariness, its body tensing with fear at the memory of the encounter.

Ash's tone softened further, offering reassurance. "Don't worry, we can help! And here," he said, placing Wattrel gently on the ground. He rummaged through his backpack, pulling out a potion. With careful movements, he applied the tincture to Wattrel's injured wing, his actions tender and focused on easing the Pokémon's discomfort.

"Is that better?" Ash asked, stepping back to give Wattrel some space.

Wattrel cautiously extended its wing, stretching it out as if testing the newly applied potion's effect. After a moment, it seemed to move more freely, a sign of relief.

Wattrel chirped happily in response, "Wattrel, Wattrel!"

Ash lifted his fist in triumph, a broad smile on his face. Charcadet copied the gesture. "Awesome! Okay! Show us the way!"

With renewed energy, the group set off at a brisk pace through the rugged terrain of the cliffs. Wattrel hesitantly took the lead, its wing now flapping loudly as it guided them toward the mysterious location of the huge moving stone.

In the midst of the blistering heat, three figures clad as backpackers picked their way through the craggy, winding paths of Area Three. The stark red rocks on either side seemed to magnify the sun's wrath, creating an oven-like atmosphere that was almost tangible in its intensity. Each step kicked up small clouds of dust, adding a gritty texture to the already arid air that parched their throats and stung their eyes.

The woman mopped her brow with a dramatic moan, her frustration boiling over as she rounded on her companion. "I thought you said the twerps went this way, James! How could you be so careless!?"

James, attempting to maintain a facade of calm despite the rivulets of sweat that traced paths down his face, offered a wry smile. "Me, careless? What were you doing while we were supposed to be watching them? Oh, right—making your next wax appointment!"

The smallest figure, the feline in the group, interjected. "why don'tcha both pipe down already? It's hotter than a Charizard's breath out here—If we don't locate that twerp pronto, we'll end up meltin' into puddles of our own sweat!"

Their ongoing arguments did nothing to improve their situation. Lost, with no sense of direction and overwhelmed by the heat, they persisted. Each of them carried a backpack, increasingly burdensome with each step, filled with hastily assembled gear and gadgets intended for capturing their ever elusive targets..

"Ugh, my makeup is running all over," Jessie swiped at her forehead again, the back of her hand away with concealer. "And look at this mess!" she snarled, tugging at a strand of her magenta hair that had curled tightly.

Around a canyon bend, voices drifted toward them. The trio froze, eyes locking in a silent exchange. Seconds later, they were darting toward cover. They crouched behind a large boulder, each peering out from their hiding spot.

Serena's stride was graceful as she rounded the corner; her steps measured and purposeful despite the growing weariness in her limbs. Sylveon glided beside her, its ribbons more subdued than usual from the heat.

Brock followed closely, his focus entirely on the small notebook in his hands scribbling one thing or another, his brows furrowed in concentration. Croagunk matched its trainer's pace, the Toxic frog's eyes darting around, always alert, occasionally glancing up at Brock with a bored, bulbous stare.

Gary brought up the rear, his walk relaxed but confident. Umbreon moved at his side, its sleek form cutting a sharp figure against the rugged backdrop of the canyon.

As they walked, the performer had a single finger raised for emphasis. "And that's why you should always approach a girl with the confidence of a knight, but with the sensitivity of a swan…" she was saying, her eyes alight as though in a small dream, "You're not there to rescue her—she's your partner. Make sure your armor shines with assurances that invite, not intimidate; and with the kindness that speaks of genuine interest, not mere conquest."

Close behind her, Brock hunched over his notebook—his pencil moving furiously as though it might ignite from the speed. Suddenly, wisps of smoke began to escape from the tip of his pencil.

"Yes, yes, of course!" Brock murmured, too engrossed in his writing to look up.

Gary watched the scene unfold with a skeptical sniff. For some reason, he found it hard to believe that Ash Ketchum had the "confidence as a knight with the sensitivity of a swan." Gary smirked, yeah—he would have to remember that one.

As the group continued down the canyon path, their conversation shifted from the nuances of courtship to the matter of their current quest.

Brock, squinting into the sinking afternoon sun, broke away from his notes to extend a concern. "I don't know guys, I think it's getting late…" His gaze lingered on the horizon, where the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the rocky landscape.

"Yeah, we may have to call it a day," Gary chimed in, his tone resigned yet practical. He glanced around the expansive gulch, its vastness suddenly more apparent in the fading light.

Serena bit her lip as she pulled out her Rotom Phone to check for any messages. "Maybe Arven and Ash have had better luck." A moment later, she sighed, the screen devoid of notifications, and even more disheartening, showing no signal bars.

Behind the large boulder, Team Rocket continued their eavesdropping on the conversation with malicious grins on their faces. Jessie leaned closer to the others, a smirk spreading across her lips as she listened to the unsuspecting trio. "Oh? What do we have here? A twerpette and her backup dancers? Maybe we can snag that pretty Sylveon and call it a day?" Her eyes gleamed at the thought, already picturing the capture of the elegant Pokémon in a room full of air conditioning.

James, more inspired by thoughts of a resort pool, nodded vigorously. "I like the way you think, Jessie! And maybe we can pick up that Umbreon and start our own little collection of Eevee evolutions." A cheeky grin tapered his eyes.

Meowth clapped his paws together, ready to spring into action. "Alrighty, let's give it a whirl."

Suddenly, the three emerged from their hiding spot—accosting Serena, Brock, and Gary midstride.

Stage lights appeared, as well as a galactic backdrop. James presented a rose for their grand entrance. Jessie kicked off their infamous mantra with gusto.

"Prepare for trouble!"

James, ever the partner in crime, followed suit. "Make it double!"

Their motto echoed through the canyon. "To protect the world from devastation!"

"To unite all people within our nation!"

"To denounce the evils of truth and love!"

"To extend our reach to the stars above!"

"Jessie!"

"And James!"

The duo's energy continued to be outlandish as an enormous red "R" appeared between them. "Team Rocket, blast off at the speed of light!"

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!"

Meowth jumped in, not to be outdone. "Meowth, dat's right!"

And just when the three trainers thought the spectacle couldn't get any more Team Rocket, Wobbuffet made its own grand entrance, popping for its time to shine:

"Wobbuffet!"

"Hey!" Gary, recognizing the trio instantly, pointed at them with an amused crooked smile. "I know you guys!"

Brock, stepping forward, eyed them suspiciously. "How long have you been following us? What are you crooks up to now?"

Jessie, with a hand on her hip, tried to maintain her composure. "Well, we were going after the twerp and Pikachu as usual, but this arid climate is doing nothing for my skin."

Without missing a beat and clearly not thinking through his words, Meowth quipped, "Well, if yous worried about wrinkles, I'd say it's a little late for dat."

Jessie's face fractured with rage and her head swelled with fury, "Meowth! Who's side are you on anyway?!" She began to push the feline's head into the red dirt.

"Don't you think this is really getting a little old?" Serena let out a sigh, her patience clearly wearing thin. Her posture slackened, a sign she was tired of this repetitive dance. "Why can't you just leave Ash and Pikachu alone?"

Her tone was more weary than confrontational. Maybe it was time for Team Rocket to find a new hobby, she thought, one that didn't involve them constantly chasing after Ash.

Seizing the moment for a more detailed explanation, James paused to pull out an unexpectedly elaborate timeline and chart from seemingly nowhere. He quickly donned a pair of glasses and a suit that made him look like an analyst. With a pointer in hand, he gestured towards the progression of a long line on the chart, each segment marked by years and labeled with significant events.

"Well, you see," James began, adopting the tone of a lecturer, "when we retired, we actually concluded that after chasing the twerp for twenty years—nine years, really, in this continuum—we have irrevocably tied our identity to this pursuit." He pointed to various points on the timeline, indicating the major moments of their quest. "Of course, we acknowledge ourselves as individuals with individual interests—I majored in stage movement, after all, with the hopes of becoming a choreographer—and Jessie—"

"I have always been a performer ever since my first role in first grade where I took on the daring role of 'worm in a rotten apple.'"Jessie interrupted, donning a red scarf and holding up a prop skull.

James, undeterred by the brief interjection, resumed his metaphysical explanation with even more enthusiasm. "However, our dream of catching the twerp and Pikachu defines our future—as without interweaving ourselves into the twerp's story—we'd get no 'air time,' figuratively and literally speaking." He gestured grandly towards the chart, as if the lines and markers could somehow make his point clearer.

Gary, Brock, and Serena, meanwhile, exchanged mystified glances before their attention returned to James. Their heads tilted simultaneously, trying to process his abstract words. Wisps of smoke seemed to emanate from their ears.

With the philosophical discussion set aside, Jessie seized the moment to shift gears and summoned her Yanmega. The Pokémon emerged with a buzz that filled the air, its wings beating rapidly. Jessie's expression turned, her smile wide and wild. "But since Pikachu's not in the cards today, we think we'll just relieve the twerpette of that pretty Sylveon. What do you all think about that?" Her smile transformed as she spoke, morphing into something wild and predator.

While Brock and Gary had tried to step in front of her, Serena moved forward, undaunted by the challenge. "I don't think so." She responded, her lips pursed. She glanced down at her companion. "Get ready, Sylveon!"

On the sidelines, Gary and Brock glanced at one another and nodded. Gary motioned his Umbreon to step forward. Brock, following suit, signaled his Croagunk, whose posture immediately suggested readiness for battle.

James released his Amoonguss into the fray. The Pokémon appeared with a puff of spores, and the purple-haired trainer clapped his hands together with childlike glee. "We'll be taking the Umbreon too!" he declared giddily.

"No way!" Gary replied, his hand cutting through the air as if to physically sever James's ambitions.

Jessie's twirl preceded her command. "Yanmega, Quick Attack!" The dragonfly Pokémon darted forward, a blur of speed aimed straight at its targets.

"Sylveon, Swift!"

Sylveon reacted at once, ribbons aglow, unleashing a barrage of stars that never missed. They streaked across the space between them, lighting up the canyon walls with their brilliance—halting Yanmega in its tracks.

As the rays continued their trajectory towards the other foes, Wobbuffet awaited the right moment. It then countered with Mirror Coat, a reflective shield that attempted to bounce the incoming assault back. However, Wobbuffet failed. The starry light sent the Psychic type flying back into Meowth, who groaned.

Amoonguss, lurking slightly behind, pulsed with energy. "Let's show them our Hidden Power, Amoonguss!" James squealed, pointing towards Sylveon. The mushroom Pokémon released orbs glowing with a mysterious light that zigzagged through the battlefield, seeking its target with unerring precision.

Umbreon stepped forward, its rings glowing ominously.

"Dark Pulse!" Gary ordered with a nod.

With attentive intensity, the Dark-type unleashed waves of dark energy rippling outwards, distorting the air as they moved. The attack neutralized Amoonguss's Hidden Power, detonating the air with grenades of aura and shadow.

"Poison Jab on that Amoonguss!" Brock pointed directly at Jame's Pokémon. Croagunk lunged forward. Its fist glowed with a venomous light, aiming a Poison Jab directly at Amoonguss. The attack sliced through the air, a direct threat to the mushroom Pokémon.

As the energies collided, creating a spectacle of light and force, the sounds of the battle echoed off the canyon walls, blending into the vastness of the landscape.

Ash, Arven, and their Pokémon trekked through the sweltering canyon, the shadows along the cliffs grew longer. Wattrel continued to lead the way with more determined flaps, guiding them deeper into the maze of rocks and silt.

The canyon's silence enveloped them, broken only by the crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional call from Wattrel. The air was still thick with heat, making each breath a warm gulp.

Finally, Wattrel halted, signaling they had reached the destination. Ash and Arven scanned the area, expecting to confront whatever it was that had injured the Pokémon. But there was nothing. Just a large area tucked inside the canyon walls that echoed back their heavy breaths.

"Are you sure it was here, Wattrel?" Ash asked, his concern deepening as he surveyed the seemingly empty valley strewn with fallen stones.

Wattrel nodded in response, its sharp eyes scanning the area. A flicker of confusion crossed its gaze.

"What's that over there?" Arven's attention was drawn to something on the far wall opposite them. He stepped forward, stumbling over some of the fallen rocks beneath his boots. As he sidestepped, he got a better view of some hidden tunnel. It was nestled within the imposing red cliffs across from them. However, the valley between them and the cavern was littered with rocks, some appearing as though they had fallen recently, making it difficult to reach the cave.

The quiet that enveloped them was far from tranquil; it carried an eerie sense of anticipation and seemed to put the Pokémon on edge. Nonetheless, Arven and Ash decided to edge closer to the hidden tunnel.

Until the canyon's silence was shattered.

"What the—," Arven's exclamation was cut short by a sudden, ominous sound. It was a deep, grinding noise, like boulders shifting against each other. Before they could process the source, the wall in front of them seemed to come alive.

In an instant, something massive moved along the cliffs. It was so seamlessly blended with the canyon's rugged façade that it had been invisible until it stirred. Ash, with reflexes honed from countless battles and adventures, acted swiftly. He scooped Pikachu up in one arm and Charcadet in the other, just as an enormous claw, sharp and menacing, descended upon them with the force of a falling tree.

The ground trembled under the weight of the claw, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air. Ash, Pikachu, and Charcadet narrowly dodged the attack, taking refuge behind a large boulder that shielded them from the worst of the fallout. Red sediment swirled around them, creating a thick veil that obscured their vision temporarily.

As the dust began to settle, a tense silence returned to the canyon. Ash peered around, his heart racing, to ensure everyone was safe. Pikachu, electrified with adrenaline, chattered anxiously from his perch in Ash's arms, while Charcadet emitted a low, protective flame, ready to defend its friends if necessary.

Ash's gaze swept over the area, searching for Arven, Mabosstiff, and Wattrel. "Is everyone okay?" he called out, cutting through the momentary silence.

One by one, his companions emerged from their places of refuge, shaken but unharmed. Arven gave him a nod, signaling that they were all right, while Wattrel, though visibly startled, maintained a brave front.

Then Ash turned at the strange sound again. The creature unfurling before them was a titan among its kind, a colossal crustacean with a shell that mimicked the rugged canyon walls. Its claws, massive and edged with barnacle-like boulders, prepared to strike the earth once more. Eyes perched on stalks surveyed the scene, unblinking and wide with predatory concentration.

Arven and Mabosstiff were quick to react as the creature's claw began to rise again, signaling another imminent strike. Mabosstiff barked loudly, its stance defensive as Arven directed it to move. They both scrambled to the side, kicking up their own cloud of dirt as they sought cover. The claw smashed down where they had been just a moment ago, and the impact sent more topsoil into the air, accompanied by the sound of rocks clattering down the cliffside.

Arven's hand shot to his belt, fingers closing around the familiar sphere. "Mabosstiff! Return!" he called out. He didn't want his best friend getting hurt, and Mabosstiff just wasn't ready to battle quite yet. The botanist didn't want to take any chances. The ball opened with a burst of white light, transforming the hulking form of the canine into a stream of energy that spiraled back into the safety of its container.

Meanwhile, Pikachu, agile and swift, darted from the shadow of the descending claws. He zigzagged across the terrain, kicking up miniature whirlwinds. Finding higher ground, Pikachu turned back to assess their attacker, tail raised in alarm. With a sharp "Pika!" The Electric mouse summoned Ash's attention, signaling the urgency to strategize.

Ash and Charcadet sprang into action—Wattrel now beside them—bounding across the uneven ground toward Pikachu's vantage point. As they moved, the titan Pokémon's descent sent vibrations through the canyon, dislodging more stones and boulders in a growing cacophony. Rocks tumbled down, each impact created a haze of red that painted the air and blanketed the landscape in a thick particulate mist.

Ash raised a hand, pressing it against his forehead to shield his eyes from the swirling grit, squinting to keep his friends in view. Charcadet and Wattrel flanked him, their figures blurred, yet unmistakable as they converged on Pikachu's position.

"What is this, Arven?!" Ash cried out through the din through the crumbling stone and settling earth.

After briefly being obscured as he navigated the tumult, Arven appeared beside the young champion to observe their lovely new obstacle. His boots skidded across the gravel, his hand brushing a rock for balance. Arven's eyes stretched wide as recognition dawned. "It's a Klawf!" He wavered. "But I've never seen one that big!"

Ash, his face caked with soot, retrieved his Rotom Phone, flicking it open with a snap. The screen glowed against the dust-darkened air.

Klawf. The ambush Pokémon. Klawf hangs upside-down from cliffs, waiting for prey. But Klawf can't remain in this position for long because its blood rushes to its head.

Jaw clenched, Ash tucked away the device and faced his partners. Pikachu's cheeks sparked, ready to unleash power, while Charcadet's flames reacted, casting a warm glow in the murky air. "A Rock-type," he said, resolve hardening like the stones that continued to fall around them. "We're gonna have to get creative."

Arven's gaze drifted past the disruption, latching onto the cavern once more. Inside, a subtle gleam caught his attention, something within radiating a soft light, an anomaly in the shadowed recess. But it wasn't just the glow that held his focus; it was the Klawf's deliberate stance, its claws raised not just in aggression but in defense, positioned between them and the cave entrance.

"I need you to cover me while I get in there," Arven said, his finger stabbing through the air towards the cave. "Klawf is protecting something inside, and I have a feeling I know what it is."

Ash acknowledged this with a nod, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. "We'll do what we can," he promised, eyes scanning for the slightest opening.

Wattrel remained close, its calls, "Wattrel, Wattrel!" piercing the tension.

Ash lifted his gaze to the determined Pokémon. "You want to help out?"

In answer, Wattrel bobbed its head, its bright eyes locked with Ash's.

A smile broke through the dirt on Ash's face as he raised his fist. "Okay! Together then!"

In the midst of the Team Star camp, Pawmo darted and danced, its movements silent rebuttals to Torkoal's raw display of power. The ground continued to fracture under the tortoise's attacks. Yet, Pawmo, small and swift, found paths where none seemed to exist, slipping through the storm by leaping off the boulders as they ascended with a grace that made the air around it seem to stand still in awe.

"Charge up, Pawmo!" Nemona exclaimed, her eyes following her Pokémon's every move.

Immediately, Pawmo began to harness its own energy. With each jump, each deft sidestep between the eruptions of stone, it glowed with a growing intensity. The build-up of power flowed through Pawmo's veins like a river swelling with the spring melt. The air around it crackled, charged particles dancing around its fur, turning motion into potential, agility into strength.

"Now! Let's Nuzzle our new friend!" Nemona's order, light and teasing, broke through the intensity of the battle. At her cue, Pawmo raced towards Torkoal. With paradoxical cuteness, it pressed its electrified cheeks against the shell of its foe. The moment was brief and almost so adorable it made people "Aww" in the crowd. But the cute attack carried the weight of Pawmo's gathered energy.

Torkoal soon found itself caught in an invisible bind. The electricity from Pawmo's Nuzzle coursed through it, a network of light seizing its limbs. The Fire tortoise struggled to marshal its strength. It attempted to muster a Clear Smog at Mela's command, a move designed to reclaim the momentum, but the effort faltered. Waves of energy, remnants of Pawmo's gentle assault, coursed through Torkoal, rendering its movements stuttered and ineffective.

"Shake it off, Torkoal!" Mela's growl, rough with frustration, pierced through the tension of the battle. Her hands shot above her head, fingers clenching as she watched her Pokémon struggle with the paralysis.

Nemona, eyes sharp with focus, saw her chance. "Pawmo, vamos—use Dig!"

With a swift nod, Pawmo vanished into the ground, leaving behind a small cloud of dust as it burrowed its way towards Torkoal.

Moments later, the ground beneath the Fire-type erupted as Pawmo launched upwards. The impact was immediate and devastating. Torkoal, unable to defend itself, was propelled upwards, its body spinning helplessly through the air like a leaf caught in a gust of wind.

Torkoal landed with a thud that echoed around the arena, orange particles billowing around its still form. The damage from Pawmo's surprise attack left it motionless—unable to battle.

"Alright! A critical hit!" Goh, his blue eyes wide, exclaimed with a raised fist. He and Grookey clapped hands. The cityboy then moved to raise a high-five towards Penny, who ignored him. Her spectacles flashing against the sinking sun.

Mela, meanwhile, reached for her Pokéball, exhaling a long sigh as she beckoned Torkoal back. The motion was slow, almost reluctant, but as her Pokémon dematerialized into the safety of its capsule, her demeanor shifted. A smirk unfurled across her face, wide and full of flashing teeth.

"Guess it's 'bout time for the main number," she declared defiantly, her freckles stretching with the curve of her lips.

The Team Star grunts, sensing the shift in momentum, began to stir with a renewed energy—their movements quick and animated.

Unable to contain his enthusiasm, Nando let out a roar of support. "Show 'em Mela!" His fists pumped the dry air rhythmically as if to drum up the earth's energy for Mela's next act.

Mela dismounted her colossal vehicle, on which she had been standing throughout the battle. The car itself seemed fully alive, a raw, unbridled spectacle. Its kaleidoscopic body bore the bold insignia of Team Star with allegiance on its hood. Speakers large as boulders flanked its sides, while multi-colored lights blinked and flickered in a rhythm of to some hidden song casting dynamic undertones across the field.

As Mela's boots hit the ground, the machine roared awake, a mechanical beast lurching forward with a series of hisses and growls. Its tires, like giant black holes, threatened to consume the grass beneath. The whole thing surged towards Pawmo.

"What the heck!?" Nemona's groaned, throwing her hands up in the air, "Is that even a Pokémon?"

Mela's lips formed into a serpentine grin as she crossed her arms in front of her white vest. "Ya couldn't tell? Meet the Schedar Starmobile!" She appeared to be relishing in this newly revealed secret.

Goh leaned forward to scrutinize the monstrous car anew. "It looks like it's powered by Pokémon, Nemona!" His observation was sharp, noting a detail that had escaped the others.

His eyes traced the structure of the car, spotting two metallic Pokémon attached to the sides like living engines. Their bodies gleamed, machine-like, their form a curious blend of organic and mechanical design. Further forward, at the helm of the vehicle, a similar Pokémon commanded attention. It was larger, possibly an evolved form of the others, its metallic body an intricate assembly of cylinders, more complex and imposing. A singular yellow eye, bright and unblinking, gave the impression of a vigilant pilot steering the mechanical beast.

Goh took out his Rotom Phone while the car continued inching towards Pawmo:

Varoom the single-cyl pokemon. It is said that this Pokémon was born when an unknown poison Pokémon entered and inspirited an engine left at a scrap-processing factory.

Revavroom the multi-cyl Pokemon. Revavroom viciously threatens others with the sound of its exhaust. It sticks its tongue out from its cylindrical mouth and sprays toxic fluids.

Nemona nodded with new determination, her mind latching onto each word. "Okay, Pawmo! Let's avoid those toxins at all costs!"

Pawmo glanced up, its entire body language shifted with comprehension. It grounded its stance, every muscle coiled like a spring, ready to launch away from any threat that might spill from the Starmobile's mechanical maws.

"Let's heat this place up!" Mela's arm swept through the air. "Overheat!"

Nemona's mind raced. "Pawmo, dodge and use Dig!" she called out.

An orifice situated just below the vehicle's yellow eye began to glow white. With a rising whir, a spiraling torrent of red-orange flame blasted from the opening—an air-distorting blaze.

Pawmo danced aside, the flames licking the space where it had stood just a heartbeat before. The mouse plunged into the earth, vanishing from sight, and leaving the spiraling inferno to consume nothing but the grass and dirt where Pawmo once stood.

Each time Pawmo emerged, a white-hot blaze followed, the Starmobile relentless in its Overheat attack. However, the once mighty blast waned, dimming with each repetition, yet it pursued Pawmo with unwavering intent. In response, Pawmo bopped across the field, dipping beneath the surface at the first sign of danger, weaving a labyrinth of holes across the terrain.

Mela's patience frayed. She snarled, "Use Swift! Let's force that mouse out of its hole!"

Bright star-shaped rays burst forth from the Starmobile, pursuing Pawmo whose evasion was futile. The Electric-type felt the sting of the attack as the stars found their mark, sending the small creature tumbling backward.

"Pawmo! Keep at it, vamos!" Nemona shouted above the fray, encouraging the Electric mouse amidst the whirlwind of attacks.

Pawmo righted itself, shaking its orange fur free of debris. The Pokémon planted its feet firmly, cheeks full of ready static.

A spark of strategy then ignited in Nemona's mind. "Ok, Pawmo! I need you to keep digging holes around the field." A plan unfolded before her.

Pawmo met her eyes and nodded.

"Blazing Torque!" Mela shouted, and the Starmobile's engines roared louder. Heat radiated in all directions from the vehicle, causing the onlookers to step back and shield their faces from the rising temperature.

Pawmo, quick on its feet, managed to dodge the expanding onslaught. It continued to burrow underground with Dig, avoiding the attack. When Pawmo attempted to surface beneath the Starmobile, the floor shook, but the vehicle seemed mostly unaffected. Pawmo's subsequent attempt to Nuzzle the Starmobile also had no effect; the electric charge failing at Pawmo's cheeks.

Seeing the Starmobile's engines rev up for another attack, Pawmo didn't hesitate. It quickly burrowed underground again, disappearing just as another blast of heat emanated from the car.

The battle reached a moment where action seemed to freeze, Pawmo engaged in a pattern of dodging, diving into the earth only to resurface moments later, without delivering an offensive move. Mela watched this display, her brows fusing together as she tried to decipher Nemona's tactics.

"If you're tryin' to tire us out, it's not gonna work! The Starmobile is pure machine," Mela declared, her grin wide with unshaken confidence.

Nemona allowed a knowing smile to cross her lips. "Someone hasn't been paying attention," she retorted. Lifting a hand towards the Starmobile, she issued her next command. "Pawmo, use Charge!"

Pawmo emerged from the earth, its body radiating with a build-up of energy. The Starmobile continued its rumbling, its heavy frame jostling slightly as it traversed the network of holes that now pocked the landscape. It seemed unfazed, a mechanical beast on a relentless march.

Yet, as it reached a position squarely above the nexus of Pawmo's tunnels, Nemona sensed the moment to strike.

Nemona's shout surged with unbridled excitement. "Now! Go underground and use Thunder!"

Pawmo matched her enthusiasm with a resolute cry, "Paw-MOHH!" Its small form coiled with energy before it vanished beneath the surface one last time.

Below the arena, hidden from view, Pawmo unleashed its storm. The charged attack surged, a rampant flow of electricity that sought every path of least resistance. The battlefield became a grid of energy as thunderous currents shot up through the network of holes Pawmo had meticulously carved. The Starmobile, unknowingly positioned at the epicenter, became the unwitting recipient of a lightning storm.

Beneath its engines, the ground erupted with electricity, jolting the machine with a series of potent shocks. The wires, the conduits of the Starmobile's mechanical lifeblood, rebelled as the current overwhelmed them. Sparks flew, smoke billowed, and the once formidable vehicle shuddered to a halt, its systems short-circuited and rendered useless.

The Pokémon that had become one with the car, their power harnessed to fuel its might, found themselves overpowered by the backlash. The short-circuiting spread through the wires that bound them to the vehicle's main body, and one by one, they too were knocked out, their connection to the Starmobile severed by the very energy they had helped to channel.

The encampment fell into a profound silence, so deep it seemed to swallow every sound, leaving behind a vacuum.

Even Nemona held her breath, her gaze locked on Mela, waiting for the Squad Boss to break the hush that had claimed the battlefield.

Mela, standing amidst the remnants of her strategy, took a moment longer to respond. She folded one arm across her abdomen, the other elbow resting atop, her hand pressing against the space between her eyebrows.

The silence hung heavy as everyone awaited her verdict.

Eventually, Mela looked up. "Well…That sucks."

In the thick of the battle, Gary's voice cut through the disorder with precision, "Umbreon—dodge!" The sleek, dark Pokémon responded instantly, leaping aside with agile grace, narrowly avoiding a direct hit from Yanmega's Quick Attack.

Jessie and James undeterred, pressed their edge, their Pokémon responding with a barrage of their own attacks. Wobbuffet set up a Mirror Coat, ready to deflect incoming moves, while Amoonguss released another volley of Hidden Power, the greenish orbs of energy seeking their targets with relentless determination.

"Time to bring outs da big guns!" Meowth grinned devilishly, deciding it was the perfect moment to unveil their latest invention. With a flourish that suggested far more confidence in the device than was probably warranted, Meowth proudly revealed a peculiar, oversized contraption strapped to his back.

"Behold," he declared with his usual dramatics, "da 'Magnetron Grabber X'! Dis beauty is s'posed to magnetize Pokéballs to pull 'em right to us. Ain't dat genius?"

The device was an odd assembly of coils, wires, and a large, dish-like magnet, all cobbled together with the kind of enthusiasm for engineering that only Team Rocket could muster. Painted in their signature red and black, with the R logo prominently displayed, it looked more like a mad scientist's project than a practical tool—which fit the profile.

With a confident flick, Meowth activated the Magnetron Grabber X. The machine hummed to life. However, before it began attracting Pokéballs, it began pulling in every metal object in the vicinity. Brock's pans, spoons, and bowls flew first towards the magnet, clanging against it in chaotic sounds.

"Are you sure that's not just some oversized magnet, you moron!?" Jessie growled, again slamming Meowth's head back into his shoulders.

"Uh, maybe?" Meowth mumbled before then being smacked in the face by a particularly fast-moving metal water bottle. Jessie and James could only watch in disbelief before scrambling to turn off the device, dodging their own barrage of kitchenware and camping equipment.

Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble, a subtle vibration at first that grew into a pronounced shaking. The trainers paused, glances exchanged. A loud boom, originating from about a mile off, rolled over the canyon like thunder, echoing ominously.

Meowth's ears twitched, his eyes wide as he spun around, seeking the source of the tremor. "What was dat!?" he exclaimed, his pitch high with alarm.

Brock, steadying himself against the quaking earth, squinted towards the direction of the noise. "It sounded like a rock slide. A big one," he said, his tone grave, recognizing the potential danger.

Serena clutched her chest, a wave of anxiety washing over her. "What if it's Ash?" she gasped out, her face paling at the thought. Knowing him, she just had a feeling he was involved…

"Either way," Gary started with a decisive nod, "we should check it out."

Without another word, Serena beckoned to her Sylveon and turned on her heel. She took off towards the source of the sound, her strides quick and determined.

The others, spurred by Serena's sudden movement, wasted no time in following. Brock quickly assessed the situation, his eyes darting from his scattered utensils to Team Rocket. With a pointed finger and a menacing glare, he warned, "I'll be back for those!" His Croagunk, not missing a beat, followed him as they sprinted off. Just before disappearing from sight, Brock called back over his shoulder, "That's a stainless steel set! So don't get any ideas!"

Gary called out, "Wait up!" as he and Umbreon took off, their figures swiftly moving to catch up to the others.

"Hey, wait! Get back here!" Jessie yelled with irritation as she watched the others depart. She exchanged an exasperated glance with James, but he seemed strangely elated by the situation. "We are not leaving this canyon empty handed!"

"Jessie! This is our chance to find the twerp and his Pikachu!" James exclaimed, a mischievous grin forming on his face. He extended a hand towards his partner, and with a shared look of devilry, they clasped hands in agreement: "Let's follow!"

Meowth, not wanting to be left out, chimed in and jumped onto Jame's head. "Awright, let's get a move on so wese don't lose 'em," he urged, his whiskers twitching.

With newfound resolve, Team Rocket returned their Pokémon and picked up the pace, chasing after the group, determined to stay hot on their heels.

Ash found himself in a tough battle. A very tough battle.

The massive Klawf towered over them was probably a third the size of the cliff face. Despite the combined efforts of Pikachu, Charcadet, and Wattrel, their attacks seemed to have minimal impact on the titan. The type disadvantage further compounded their struggles, and even Ash was at a loss for some creative ways to overcome the obstacle without backup.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Ash watched as even Pikachu's Iron Tail, their most effective attack, barely left a scratch on the behemoth's tough hide. Charcadet's fiery prowess, usually a reliable asset, proved to be too weak and ineffective in this case. Wattrel's efforts, while valiant, amounted to little more than distractions against the colossal opponent.

It was a daunting realization that they were outmatched, and even with their combined strength and determination, the odds seemed stacked against them.

Ash knew he needed extra resources and began wondering how to leverage the terrain. He watched as Arven grappled with finding an opening to the cave, but it seemed that Klawf, with its massive six appendages, was determined to guard the entrance with unwavering obduracy.

Just when things were looking bleak, a voice called out, breaking through the tension that hung in the valley. "Ash!"

Surprised, Ash whirled around, his eyes widening in a mixture of relief and renewed worry. Serena and her Sylveon stepped into view. Her arrival injected a glimmer of hope into him, but also signaled a new tension within the young champion as his mind raced across all the ways to keep her safe.

Brock, Gary, and their Pokémon ran up behind Serena, all momentarily stunned by the scene. And soon, a familiar trio stumbled beside them.

"Team Rocket!?" Ash blurted.

Jessie, James, and Meowth looked completely out of breath and disheveled. Their usual flair was replaced by exhaustion as they struggled to catch their breath after what must have been a frantic effort to reach the valley.

They tried to muster the energy to deliver their signature motto—faltered, breaking as they gasped for air. "Prepare for…" they began but were unable to finish. It seemed as though they were on the verge of collapse when the enormous Klawf let out a rumbling moan.

"KLAWF! KLAWF!" the colossal Pokémon bellowed, causing a tremor that sent shockwaves through the ground.

As Jessie, James, and Meowth jumped and huddled together. Jessie's mouth moved up and down like a Magikarp. Her wide-eyed expression mirrored her terror.

"What the heck is that!" James finally managed to utter with a pointed finger.

The titan, feeling threatened by the sudden appearance of newcomers, underwent a noticeable transformation. Its stance shifted from a protective one to a more aggressive and confrontational posture. The valley seemed to shrink in the face of its overwhelming presence.

Klawf vented its new frustration by slamming one of its colossal claws into a nearby wall. The impact sent rocks and debris flying, showering Team Rocket in a hail of stones.

"Sylveon—Protect!" Serena called out and Sylveon reacted just in time. Her eyes glowed with energy and it summoned a shimmering cocoon of light that enveloped Team Rocket. The glowing barrier shielded the paralyzed trio from the onslaught of debris.

Serena swiftly called out her other trusted partners for support. "Pancham, Delphox, let's go!" The two emerged from their Poké Balls, ready to join the battle.

Gary nodded, sensing the need. He called upon his Blastoise—the only other Pokémon with him at the moment—its imposing reptilian figure casting a shadow over the battlefield as it took its place.

With determination etched on his face, Brock summoned his Marshtomp to the fray, the Water/Ground-type Pokémon ready to lend its strength.

"Brock! Where's your Steelix?" Ash called out, really hoping the Pokédoctor would have the Steel-type on hand.

Brock, shielding his eyes from the dust and grit that filled the air, replied through a clenched jaw, "I left him at the Academy," His decision seemed to weigh heavily on him, but there was no turning back now, and they had to make do with the team they had on hand.

Ash nodded in acknowledgment. He attempted to make his way over the unstable terrain to join the others. He managed to reach Serena first, his hands finding her shoulders. "Are you okay?" he asked, grinning despite everything. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"

Serena nodded distractedly in response. "I'm fine, Ash—but what about you!?" She tried to remain calm, but Ash looked a mess—covered in dirt and soot with a few scratches across his cheek. "And where's Arven?"

Their momentary concern for the botanist was interrupted by another ferocious attack. The Klawf soon unleashed a Rock Smash, slamming a massive illumined appendage into the ground with brutal force. The impact sent shockwaves through the earth, causing the floor to crack and ripple in jagged patterns. As the earth fractured, small rocks were sent flying.

Instinctively, Ash shielded Serena as they jumped to the side, hitting the ground roughly in a hurried attempt to evade the attack. They coughed and gasped for breath as they recovered, a bit disoriented.

Ash quickly helped Serena back to her feet, his hands guiding her up gently, and even when she was upright he didn't want to let her go.

"Arven's trying to get into that tunnel behind Klawf!" Ash shouted to the others over the tumultuous hail of stones, trying to make himself heard. "He thinks the Pokémon's trying to protect something in there!"

Gary, his concentration unbroken, replied, understanding the plan. "Gotcha. So we're trying to distract the big guy."

Ash, his hands slipping off Serena in his haste, added with urgency, "Yeah!"

"Looks like this guy's a Rock-type." Brock noted upon consulting his Rotom Phone, "We need to get some kind of tactical advantage here."

Ash flipped the bill of his cap to face backwards. He looked up at the cloudless sky, a far-fetched thought suddenly coming to his mind and a small smile lifted his marked cheeks. "Hey Brock, you haven't randomly taught Marshtomp Rain Dance recently, right?"

While Brock shook his head grimly, Gary smirked.

"Blastoise has you covered," Gary's crooked grin transformed into a look of determination as he raised his hand towards the Shellfish Pokémon. "Let's go, buddy—Rain Dance!" he commanded. The large Water-type nodded, a low note humming from its belly as it looked skyward, conjuring some powerful spell.

Clouds quickly gathered overhead, dark and heavy. Thunder rumbled ominously. The first drops of rain began to fall, splattering against the ground.

Ecstatic, Ash turned to Brock—a wide, toothy grin spreading across the champion's face. "Hey, remember how Pikachu got the upperhand on Onyx all those years ago?" he asked, nostalgia and excitement building in him.

Brock chuckled, the memory bringing a fond smile to his face. "Thinking about a little repeat?" he replied, already catching on to Ash's plan. "We're going to have to really drench this guy first," the Pokédoctor added, nodding towards the towering Klawf. "He's much bigger than Onyx was."

Serena and Gary exchanged glances, confusion momentarily flashing across their faces.

"What are you guys—?" Gary started to ask, but Ash cut him off.

"Gary, have Blastoise focus all his water attacks on Klawf—I have an idea. Brock, you too. Have Marshtomp help," Ash instructed, his gaze then shifting to Serena. "Serena, can you—!"

Serena was already reading Ash's mind with her own reassuring smile. "Back up Blastoise and Marshtomp while they're busy attacking. Got it!" she affirmed, ready to support the strategy.

Ash grinned at her, scratching his nose.

Gary rolled his eyes.

Before Serena could move in position, Ash grabbed her wrist, his concern again steadying his gaze on her. "Be careful," he said, touched with worry.

Serena, her face now lined with rain, nodded. "You too."

The performer, agile and determined, moved closer to her Pokémon, her gaze fixed on the titan as it prepared its next move. The air around them tensed as Klawf unleashed a Rock Tomb, hurling massive boulders towards them with intimidating force.

"Delphox, use Hidden Power and catch those rocks!" Serena commanded quickly. The mystical fire Pokémon responded with a flourish, its body glowing with a radiant energy. It extended its wand, manipulating the unseen forces around it to intercept the hurtling stones with a eldritch green glow.

"Pancham, Dark Pulse!" she continued, directing her smaller, panda-like Pokémon. Pancham's playful demeanor shifted into one of concentration as it unleashed waves of dark energy towards the Rock-type, causing it to at least blink under the unexpected attack.

Serena's next call was instant, acknowledging the need for defense amid their offensive. "Sylveon—cover us with Protect when you can!"

The Fairy-type Pokémon let out a cry before creating a scintillated blue shield around them, deflecting any stray rocks that made it past Delphox's hold.

Seeing Serena successfully draw Klawf's attention, Gary and Brock found their moment to act. Timing was everything here—especially in a battle where every second counted.

Gary, standing beside his Blastoise, nodded in approval of Serena's actions before turning his attention back to the battle. "Blastoise, keep the pressure on with Hydro Pump!" he ordered, aiming to exploit Klawf's momentary distraction. The water-type Pokémon, its cannons already dripping from the rain, unleashed a powerful stream of water towards Klawf, hitting it squarely and adding to the deluge that sought to weaken the Rock-type's defenses.

Brock coordinated with his Marshtomp. "Marshtomp, Water Gun!" he instructed, targeting Klawf's mobility to further their advantage.

With a determined "Marstomp!", the Water-type expelled a concentrated stream that splattered against Klawf's legs, attempting to hinder its movement and slow it down.

Meanwhile, Ash's steps were a struggle, each one an effort against the rain-slicked earth. Mud clung to his shoes, adding weight with every move. Ahead, Pikachu, Charcadet, and Wattrel awaited, electricity and anticipation crackling in the damp air.

"Charcadet, find Arven. Help him," Ash said, haste sharpening his words. Understanding flashed in Charcadet's eyes before it turned, sprinting towards the tunnel's shadow where Arven had vanished. Its figure was soon swiftly swallowed by the gloom.

Ash lifted his face to the sky. The rain plastered his hair to his forehead and dripped from his chin, soaking through his clothes.

Turning to the others, he began, "Pikachu, Wattrel, it's on us now. Ready to end this?" His voice, barely louder than the rainfall, carried clear resolve.

Pikachu's response was a spark, bright against the gray, a silent promise of the storm he was ready to unleash. Wattrel flapped its wings, sending a spray of droplets scattering.

Blastoise and Marshtomp resumed their barrage, Hydro Pumps and Water Guns a relentless siege against Klawf. In this elemental onslaught, Pikachu and Wattrel prepared to join, their energies converging for a final act.

xxxxx

"So what do you like to do for fun?" Arven ventured deeper into the cave, talking to himself before he let his anxiety about being in a very dark, oppressing tunnel take over him. "Oh, you know. I like going on adventures with my friends, which means getting hit in the face by birds. Finding huge Pokémon monster things. Possibly dying of cave-ins. The usual."

The bioluminescence ahead pulled Arven forward. The darkness continued to envelope him, thick and absolute, and he fumbled through his pack for a flashlight. Outside, the occasional rumble reverberated along the walls, shaking dirt from the ceiling.

Suddenly, a smaller Klawf, camouflaged in shadows, lunged, its claw latching onto Arven's boot. Panic flashed across the botanist's face as he struggled, the Pokémon's grip unyielding. The claustrophobic darkness seemed to close in further, his efforts to free himself proving futile.

In the nick of time, Charcadet appeared and leaped into action. With a burst of fiery energy, it delivered a Fire Punch that sent the Klawf reeling back with fear into a nearby crevice. The Pokémon's retreat left behind a palpable tension in the air, quickly replaced by relief.

"Thanks, Charcadet," Arven managed. He wiped his brow and patted Charcadet slightly, its glow a comforting presence as they moved forward. "At least I won't die alone."

The tiny Fire-type grinned and gave Arven a thumbs up. "Charcadet."

Together, they emerged into a vast chamber, the walls aglow with a soft, ethereal light. In the center stood a remarkable sight—a beautiful pink plant, its leaves unfurling like a flower, anchored firmly to the ground. Its glow was mesmerizing, casting a serene ambiance over the chamber.

Arven's breath caught in awe as he approached the delicate herb, kneeling beside it in reverence. Curiosity flared within him as he examined its connection to the earth, wondering about its life source, the network it was part of.

The distant roar of the Klawf outside shattered the moment, a stark reminder of the world beyond them. "I guess that's our cue," he murmured, the spell of the pink plant broken.

Reaching into his bag, Arven retrieved a small pocket knife, eyeing the Herba Mystica's roots. He recalled Jacq's instructions: cut one root at a time to preserve its potent effects. A groan escaped Arven, however, as he noticed the minuscule size of the roots, a daunting task ahead. "This is going to take a minute," he sighed, resigning himself to the delicate operation.

xxxxx

As the battle continued, Serena stood firm beside Pancham, the honey-blonde coordinating her team with unwavering focus. Delphox, Sylveon, and Gary's Umbreon launched combined assaults, Mystical Fire and Dazzling Gleam and Shadow Ball spinning through the rain. Their efforts served as a relentless distraction. The giant crab's attention was splintered, fixating on the agile movements and vibrant attacks of the performer's Pokémon.

But soon one bulbous eye turned, locking onto Serena herself.

Sensing Klawf's shifting attention, Brock shouted, "Serena, watch out!"

The ground beneath Serena and Pancham shuddered as Klawf slammed a bright white claw into the earth for another Rock Smash. A fissure raced towards them—the valley crackling like paper. Serena's eyes widened, adrenaline surging as she and Pancham prepared to evade. Timing their jump with the split second before the ground erupted, they leaped. Serena, with less height than Pancham, managed to land forward on a nearby boulder out of the fissure's path. A shaky exhale escaped her lips.

But the danger wasn't over. The cliff behind her, weakened by the rain, started to shake. Stones and rocks loosened, ready to tumble down directly on top of her and Pancham.

Reacting quickly, Serena pointed towards the unstable cliff, signaling Pancham. "Stone Edge, hurry!" she ordered.

Pancham's eyes lit up, emitting a stark white glow as two azure rings encircled it. The rings transformed into white stones orbiting the panda, then shifted color to gray as they solidified. Without a moment to spare, Pancham hurled these rocks at the descending cliff debris, effectively intercepting some of the boulders and reducing the threat to mere dust around them.

In that moment, a dark force had also helped sweep away the remnants of the cliffside danger. Jessie, alongside her Gourgeist, stepped into view; the two clearing the path with a shadowy power.

"If anyone's taking you out, it's me. In a Showcase." Jessie announced her hands on her hips.

Serena, her face smeared with mud , brightened with a grateful smile, "Thanks, Jessie!"

James, out of breath from his dash, joined them, positioning himself as a protector. "No worries, fair maiden belonging to the twerp, we will help you distract this creature. We specialize in diversions, believe it or not!"

"And if yous go splat," Meowth began to add, "den we don't get ta see what happens when da twerp finally tells yous how he feels!"

James raised an eyebrow at Meowth's blunt speech, "My, that's one way to put it."

Serena's eyes widened, her mouth opening but only managing a stunned, "What!?"

The moment was brief, as Klawf turned its massive body towards them, its next attack ready. The ground beneath them trembled as more rocks zoomed their way.

Pancham stood its ground, eyes squinting. The stones still encircling the small panda shot towards the boulders, breaking them apart.

Meanwhile, Gourgeist released another Shadow Ball. The dark orb flew, striking the scattered pieces, clearing the air around them.

From across the valley, Brock's expression tensed as he turned to shout over the clamor, rain sticking his dark hair to his face. "Okay, I don't think this thing can get any wetter!"

A mischievous gleam lit up Gary's eyes as he snickered and opened his mouth—

"Don't you even dare," Brock shot him a look.

The researcher just shrugged, his smirk remained shatterproof while the joke deflated on his tongue. "Ash probably wouldn't even get it anyway."

True—Ash wouldn't have got the joke, but his attention was also elsewhere. He climbed a pile of rocks, seeking a better vantage point over the field. Once atop, he met Wattrel and Pikachu, his tenacity manifesting in his clenched fists.

"Okay, Pikachu, you know what to do." Ash then turned to Wattrel. "Wattrel, on my signal, use whatever Electric move you know best on Klawf! Can you do that?"

Both Pokémon nodded. From their elevated position, they gazed down at Klawf, still embroiled in the fray below. With a static hum filling the air around Wattrel's wings and a buzz of electricity from Pikachu's cheeks, they unleashed their power. Thunder and Thundershock, magnified by the storm's static, zapped directly onto Klawf's soaked shell.

Meanwhile, Pancham and Jame's Morpeko—who'd emerged onto the battle scene in full Hangry Mode, wondering what commotion was keeping it from 'snack time'—decided to contribute despite their diminutive forms. Pancham readied another Stone Edge while the incensed Electric rodent rode an Aura Wheel into the crustaceon's undershell. Both attacks connected at Klawf's vulnerable underbelly.

It took not three—not four—but five consecutive combined bombardments of electricity to bring the Klawf to a halt.

The water enveloping the Ambush Pokémon acted as a perfect conduit, allowing the electrical currents from all sides to seep into its normally resistant exterior. Every inch of it sizzled with sparks and a roar tore from the titan as thick smoke billowed around it, obscuring the battlefield.

Disoriented, Klawf rammed itself into the side of a cliff. One last avalanche of rocks fell directly atop the crustacean, effectively providing the final blow.

However Ash braced himself as the small precipice on which he stood began to crumble. Grabbing Pikachu, he rode the rock slide for as long as he could before jumping painfully onto the hard earth. He coughed, the wind momentarily knocked out of him. His eyes, squinting against the darkened scene, slowly adjusted while he struggled back onto his feet—Pikachu protected in his arms.

Then, as the last wisp of smoke drifted away, the new scene revealed itself. Amidst the rubble and wet stones, where once stood a titan, now sat Klawf, its formidable size reduced. No longer the towering menace that had dominated the valley, it appeared as just a small crab, seemingly bewildered by its sudden return to normalcy. As it scuttled for shelter, the tension broke, replaced by a collective breath of relief.

Soon victorious shouts filled the air as the battlefield cleared, the group's relief palpable. Serena and Jessie slapped palms in a high-five, while Brock and Gary exchanged nods of mutual respect. James and Meowth danced on the rubble with the rest of the Pokémon.

The late afternoon sunlight soon pierced the clouds as the effects of the Rain Dance tapered. Laughter and chatter rose among the companions, a stark contrast to the battle's prior tension.

"Great job, guys!" Ash shouted, full of pride and excitement. "That was awesome!" He looked for Serena, finding her already watching him with relief in her eyes.

Their smiles connected. Ash had seen the strength and perseverance she had displayed during battle—and was lost for words just by looking at her. Even with her hair damp and clinging to a face framed by streaks of mud, Ash couldn't look away. In that moment, the sheer force of her shone through to him, casting her in a light Ash found really beautiful.

Team Rocket's laughter cut in.

James's smirk twisted into something scheming as he pointed towards Ash. "Excellent! Now—we've been led right to that twerp and his—"

His declaration was cut short as a Hydro Pump from Blastoise blasted them and their Pokémon skyward, their figures shrinking to a familiar twinkle in the sky.

"Gary!" Serena frowned slightly at the sudden turn of events and chided, "That wasn't very nice! They did help us after all."

Gary shrugged. "Whoops, sorry."

He did not look sorry. Serena narrowed her eyes at him.

In the midst of this, Ash's attention finally shifted. He noticed that the tunnel entrance Arven had taken was now obscured by fallen rocks and debris. Without hesitation, Ash—trailed by Pikachu and Wattrel—began to scramble towards the blocked cavern, considering their next move.

"Arven!" Ash's eyes scanned the barrier. "Are you okay?"

"Define 'okay'..." Through the rocks, Arven's weary reply hinted at his ordeal.

Gary snorted and brushed off the tension with a wave. "He's fine. Safest spot was with him during all this."

"Don't worry, Arven!" Serena dashed toward the wall of rocks. "We're on it. Just keep clear of the opening."

A muffled yelp erupted from Arven, "Please don't bring this cave down on me…I'm already highly claustrophobic."

With swift coordination, Ash and Pikachu set to work. Pikachu's Iron Tail, a blur of motion, struck the rubble, sending shards flying.

Simultaneously, Serena directed Delphox. With a focus that stilled the air, it summoned Hidden Power, and the stones began to rise, gracefully parting to reveal the way forward.

As light pierced the gloom, Arven stepped out—hair askew, fatigue in his posture. Charcadet came running happily out of the cave.

Cradled in Arven's grasp, the Herba Mystica glowed softly. "Well, I got it..." he muttered.

And then collapsed.

Mela, looking a bit less like the boss of anything and more like someone who just lost a major bet, led Nemona, Goh, and Penny and their Pokémon out of the Team Star camp. She had casually handed over her Fire Badge to Nemona, almost as though she'd been passing salt across the dinner table. It wasn't long before some of the Team Star crew came over, not with challenges, but nods of respect towards Nemona. Even Drea managed a begrudging tilt of her head. Goh took it all in, wondering about how Team Star could be so cool about the whole losing thing if they were supposed to be some group of bullies.

As they walked, Nemona couldn't help but get into the details. "So, you guys got kicked out just for ditching class?" she asked, trying to piece together the Team Star puzzle. Pawmo clung to her shoulder, nibbling an Oran Berry Nemona had offered it.

Mela just rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Yeah," she admitted, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But they say Team Star holed itself up to plot something against the Academy," Nemona explained, raising an eyebrow at the former Squad Boss, "do you know anything about that? About the bullying happening during the Treasure hunt?"

Mela brushed the rumors off like annoying Beedrills. "First I've heard of a stupid rumor like that—Man, nothing's changed. Everyone's still spoutin' garbage."

Nemona's amber gaze lingered on Mela, searching for the truth. "So you guys really aren't behind the bullying?"

Mela, shoulders relaxed with a hint of defeat, exhaled slowly. "Look, we just don't wanna come to school. But looks like the Schedar Squad's got no choice now. Everything we worked for...Guess this is where it ends." Her voice faded, revealing a sense of loss not previously visible.

Penny spoke up softly as she played with the strings of her hoodie. Vaporeon walked beside her. "Maybe it's for the best. Was being out here really any better?" Her eyes hesitatingly met Mela's, "Are you making a difference?"

Before Mela could reply—her green eyes narrowing towards Penny as though on the verge of recognition—Goh diverted the conversation.

"So what's with the big car?" he asked, Grookey also pointing at the vehicle curiously.

"The Starmobile?" Mela's lips curved into a small smile, her eyes lighting up with the mention of it. "We made that thing a long time ago to help us out with a big fight. But we never actually used it against anyone before you two came lookin' for trouble," she recounted with a hint of nostalgia.

Nemona, intrigued, leaned forward. "What's this big fight?" she probed, eager to understand more.

"You ever heard of Operation Star?" Mela asked, her gaze sweeping over Nemona and Goh.

Both shook their heads, their expressions blank.

Mela let out a chuckle, more to herself than to the group. "Huh. Yeah, I guess you wouldn't know...But for me and the rest of Team Star, it's a memory we'll always treasure." She held a note of pride, a stark contrast to the earlier resignation, showing a glimpse of the spirit that drove Team Star.

xxxxx

As the shadows lengthened across the Area Three canyon, Penny, Nemona, and Goh made their way back towards civilization, their footsteps kicking up clouds of red dust in the evening air. The path, winding and familiar, carried them away from the Team Star camp and back towards the comfort of familiar ground.

"So, what is your connection to Team Star?" Nemona asked Penny, her head angled slightly while she and Pawmo shared suspicious glances.

Penny hesitated, her gaze fixed on the trail ahead. "I...I just have some history with them. I don't think they're the bullies everyone thinks they are," the girl placed a steady hand on Vaporeon, the Water-type licking it gently. "They seem misunderstood, and they don't want to go to school because... I don't know. But they keep getting new recruits every month—more people leaving Scarlet Academy…only to not actually attend Violet Academy? There must be a reason for all of it."

Nemona looked thoughtful, tapping her chin. "So there are other Squad Bosses?"

"Five," Penny confirmed in a whisper.

After a slight pause, Nemona clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this!" she announced suddenly, "It's my duty as Class President to figure out what exactly is going on in our school, after all. And Team Star seems to have some hidden history that needs to be uncovered."

Nemona paused, reflecting on her role. She did in fact feel a deep responsibility to give all students a voice, even those who had drifted away from the Academy's fold. Being Class President was more than just a title to her; it was a commitment to represent every student, to bridge divides, and to foster understanding within their community.

At least, she thought all that was in the oath…

"You're going to help me, Penny!" Nemona declared with a toothy grin.

Penny's face contorted with surprise, "I am?" Her glasses nearly fell off her nose.

"Claro." Nemona replied, her determination evident. "So expect to be hearing from me from now on."

"Trust me, when she makes that promise, she keeps it," Goh muttered, taking out his Rotom Phone.

Penny nodded, a resigned agreement shaping her features, but a small smile hinted at her acceptance. "Well, okay then."

As they approached the fork that would take them back to the Pokémon Center, Penny veered off back towards Mesagoza, insisting on returning despite Nemona's protests for her to stay with them. However, the girl was firm, but she waved Nemona and Goh goodby before she and Vaporeon disappeared into the gloaming.

That evening, the Pokémon Center's cafeteria droned with the usual din of travelers and their Pokémon. Goh, with Grookey perched on his shoulder, and Nemona, alongside Pawmo, had arrived earlier and were now enjoying a hearty meal. Their peaceful dinner was interrupted when Ash and his company walked in, their appearance striking. Drenched from head to toe, clothes caked in mud, they looked as though they had just emerged from a swamp.

Nemona paused, half of a pepito in her mouth, "Ay…did it rain? You guys look like you've been mud-slapped by a very large Toedscruel."

"Actually," Arven began, attempting to clear the mud from his face and finding his bangs sticking to the top of his cheek. "We've been busy completing the mission."

He then went on to detail their encounter with the Titan Pokémon, their struggles, and eventual triumph—but of course, Arven had kept the story as sweet and short as he possibly could, already annoyed by Nemona and Goh's comparative cake-walk of an afternoon.

For their part, Nemona and Goh listened, their expressions transforming from casual interest to wide-eyed awe. And then their faces colored with jealousy.

"Are you serious!?" Goh's lips scrunched into a pout, "That sounds way cooler than the Team Star grunts we had to deal with."

"Team Star?" Serena asked as though from a far off place, her hands were busy wringing out her skirt. She grimaced as brown water dripped onto the floor.

It was Nemona who took the floor, her eyes alight with the day's revelations. With closed eyes and an inflated chest, she spoke of Team Star—her words painting a dramatic picture of mystery and determination; her resolve to uncover the truth clear in her animated gestures and the concentrated nod of her head.

"Hey!—" Nemona's attention suddenly shifted, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the Wattrel perched confidently on Ash's hat. "Is that a new Pokémon, Ash?"

"Wattrel! Wattrel!" The bird's response was a melody of chirps, filling the room with its apparent excitement. Wattrel had loved every second of the battle with the titan, having found the experience thrilling. Wanting more adventures, it had heartily accepted the champion's invitation to travel with him.

Ash's laughter mingled with the Pokémon's. "Yeah, Wattrel was a champ against Klawf! Looks like she'll be joining the team." Wattrel's response was a proud puff of feathers.

"Well, this little chit chat has been great, but I'm going to shower now," Gary drawled with boredom before he and Umbreon began making their way toward their room.

Before he could take another step, Serena darted in front of him, nearly knocking the researcher over. "Ladies first!" she insisted, and soon she and Gary were shoving each other out of the way as they fought up the stairs.

However, it was Gary who later reemerged downstairs, his expression sour. Spotting Ash, he decided to make himself feel better. "Why don't you two just shower together and save us time?" he suggested, smirking.

Ash's patience—already nonexistent—snapped, and in a flash, he had Gary pinned to the floor. As they wrestled, mud smeared the Pokémon Center's floor; much to Nurse Joy's chagrin.

Nemona and Goh titled their heads with confused detachment; the two sipping from straws popped into their soda cups as though watching a movie they just didn't understand. Brock and Arven could only offer bewildered glances, a single sweatdrop forming behind their heads.

Meanwhile, all the Pokémon began placing bets on a winner.

It was a collective decision by all to debrief in the morning. Currently, everyone was just too tired to talk about anything. After the group had showered and settled down, Arven and Brock stood side by side in the kitchenette, working together with Croagunk—who wore it's little chef's cap—on a vegetable stew meant for anyone who hadn't eaten yet. They moved in an organized manner, chopping vegetables and stirring the pot, ensuring a nutritious meal was on its way.

Meanwhile, Serena had commandeered a section of the counter for a sweeter task. Surrounded by a small crowd—Pikachu, Grookey, Sylveon, Umbreon, Charcadet, and Wattrel—she was in the midst of crafting pokepuffs, her movements delicate as she mixed and shaped the treats. The Pokémon watched with rapt attention, their eyes following every move and their tongues halfway outside of their mouths.

With a smile, Serena offered the spoon to Pikachu—who looked about as smug as a king claiming his throne. The Electric-type leaned in to savor the taste. However, when he tried to take the utensil from Serena's hand, she pulled it away with a knowing look and began offering the other Pokémon their turn. When they were done, she broke off a piece of dough and sent Grookey along to offer it to Mabosstiff, who was resting on Arven's bed. The little monkey happily obliged.

From his bed across the room, Ash watched Serena. He was exhausted. Physically and mentally. But a strange restful feeling washed over the champion as his eyes followed Serena's interactions with everyone—flour dusting her face and hair after Charcadet tipped over the flour bag in a puff of white smoke.

It was hard to put into words, but there was something about the way Serena seamlessly blended into his little world that made Ash's pulse quicken and his muscle simultaneously unwind. It was like she wasn't really supposed to be anywhere else—as if their worlds were meant to coexist.

Her warmth was crashing down on him, making Ash pause.

He reflected—not for the first time—on how Serena had this ability to anchor him to a present moment in a way he just didn't experience with anyone else. During his later travels, whenever Ash had been totally wiped out or just feeling off, his mind had often wandered to Serena, if maybe even nebulously. He'd think about something she said, or a memory they shared. Or sometimes even a dress he thought she'd like or look nice in. Whatever it was, it was as if Ash could rest in her—or the thought of her—and then he would feel better.

Ash tried pursuing this train of thought, determined to figure something out. He felt like it was important….

…The way Ash saw it, his friends often fell into three categories: those he collaborated with, creating strategies and sharing knowledge; those he mentored, guiding and teaching based on his experiences; and those who challenged him, sparking a competitive drive and a desire to surpass himself. Each type of friendship propelled Ash forward on the unspoken expectation of constant improvement and the pursuit of being stronger than the day before. And Ash felt the weight of these relationships—feeling like he needed to live up to their expectations or he'd let them down somehow.

But with Serena, it didn't feel that way. She didn't really fit neatly into any of these categories because she had a bit of everything and, at the same time, stood apart in a category all on her own in some way…

From the kitchen, Brock noticed Ash's distant stare on the performer. With a low, knowing chuckle, the former gym-leader decided to take off his apron and join the young champion for a moment while the stew left to simmer. Almost without Ash's notice, Brock walked all the way across the room and sat himself on the foot of the young champion's bed, letting out a breath that seemed to carry the weight of the day's exhaustion. Brock's shoulders dropped as he stretched his long legs out in front of him.

The beds around them formed a little cloister, further separating them from the others in the large suite.

"You know, I enjoyed spending time with Serena," Brock ventured as he folded his arms across his broad chest, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?" Ash seemed to snap out of his little trance, turning to Brock and sitting up, "What'd you think of her?" he asked genuinely, eager to hear the perspective of one of his oldest friends.

Brock chuckled again, his smile warm and appreciative. "She's very passionate, determined, and kind," he said, his hands gesturing as if trying to encompass all the admirable qualities Serena possessed. "She seems to admire you a lot. It's clear she's learned a lot from you."

Removing his cap, Ash passed a hand through his hair. He felt jittery all of a sudden. "Yeah, well. I've learned a lot from her too," he admitted uneasily.

Brock, perceptive to the undercurrents of Ash's thoughts—which seemed to be in disarray—gently prodded, "I'd love to hear more about how you see her, if you don't mind? I know Gary and I make jokes about it, but it's clear there's…something there. And you know I'm here for you."

Ash hesitated, not sure if he wanted to go into this now. However, he felt like he was going to burst if he didn't process aloud some of the thoughts that'd been swirling inside his head since his chat with Arven. And Ash had always considered Brock to be like this solid platform he felt empowered to take risks from, to jump higher and explore further. The Pokédoctor's presence encouraged action, a leap into the unknown with the assurance of unwavering support behind him. So maybe he could take a leap now.

"I just—," Ash tried, but groaned, finding it difficult to begin. Eventually, he just went for it. "It's hard for me to describe how I see her, because, well…Hey, Brock? Have you ever felt this calm feeling after you've come back from a long journey and you're so tired, but it's like you're on a boat waiting for it to dock and once it does, you just let yourself sit there on the coast?"

Brock blinked. Well, he hadn't exactly expected Ash to be an articulate romantic, but that was a real jumble. "I think so?"

Their conversation was quiet and subdued—their voices low to avoid being heard. It seemed, however, as though everyone else was busy with their own thing. Gary sat at the table near the kitchenette as he jotted down every detail he could about the Herba Mystica, which Arven had placed in a clear scientific container for safe keeping. The collective decision had been made to offer the herb to Koraidon the next morning, once fatigue had ebbed from the group and they had a chance to thoroughly study the Herba as they'd found it. This specimen, as Arven had pointed out, was among the largest they had managed to acquire, making it particularly valuable for research. Goh stood beside Gary with arms crossed and looking on with fascination. Across from them, Nemona's fingers flipped through the pages of their thick history textbook.

Ash nodded to the Pokédoctor, feeling more confident that no one else was paying attention. "She just calms me down, I think. There's no need to keep moving or to prove anything, because I'm pretty sure she appreciates me just the way I am."

"Now that makes sense," Brock gave Ash a wide smile. "And you find this to be a feeling you get specifically from her?"

Ash nodded again, more to himself, trying to untangle his feelings.

"I think so," Ash said finally, "all my other friends push me and make me want to be a better trainer. With Serena, everything feels different. When I think about her—sure, I want to be stronger as a trainer, but there's no pressure to it—it's just about being there, in the moment; like I've got the permission to just be who I am. And even though she doesn't expect anything, I still find myself wanting to be better when I'm with her—and not just as a trainer."

Brock shook his head and chuckled. He honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing, but tried to remain very calm as though to not scare this very "introspective Ash"—as Brock officially dubbed him—away.

The Pokédoctor offered the Monarch an encouraging look, "Sounds like she stirs up a lot in you."

"And—," Ash continued, his words breaking through his mouth like a flood, "she does call me out when I'm not being myself—reminding me of who I am."

He remembered a specific moment on their Kalos journey—on their way to Snowbelle City—when Ash had been caught in his little depression. He remembered Serena's snowball to the face—you're not acting like the real Ash… She had managed to draw him out, grounding him and bringing him back to his essence. It was at that moment, Ash realized, that alongside Pikachu, Serena was one of the few who could truly reach him, reminding him of who he was beneath all the adventures and battles and championships.

"And what are we talking about over here?"

Gary, nudged by Arven to round up the two for dinner, had broken from his work to saunter over with a teasing grin. He glanced back towards Serena, his smile widening. "Yeah, she's something, Ashy. Had a good chat with her today."

Ash, attempting to sound casual, leaned back against his bed frame. "Oh? What'd you guys talk about?" His effort to appear indifferent was thinly veiled.

"We just talked," Brock sought to steer the conversation to neutral waters. "Don't worry about it."

Ash, pausing, turned his gaze towards Serena, who was now busy icing her desserts. Pikachu and Wattrel were helping her add toppings.

Gary caught the look and again, couldn't resist. "If you're gonna stare like that, might as well pay her a compliment." He removed Ash's cap and ruffled the champion's hair.

"Oh, you mean tell her she's 'hot' or something?" Ash snorted with a short, irritated laugh as he snatched his hat back. He meant to use the quip as some kind of jab at Gary but only succeeded in making himself flush.

Gary, unfazed, shrugged. "Sure. Sounds like a good start." Clearly he didn't see how that was a big deal.

"Well, maybe temper it…That can sound too forward," Brock chimed in, unsure of what to take seriously.

"That's rich coming from you," Gary rolled his eyes and leaned against the frame of the bunk bed, arms crossed.

Brock quickly defended his approach with a grin. "Hey, one thing I do know is that girls like to be complimented but with words that matter. It's just the declarations of undying love and then proposals of marriage that seem to work against me."

Gary's eyebrows raised in mock surprise, "Funny you haven't adjusted accordingly."

"Old habits die hard," Brock admitted with a half-shrug. "I'm moved by too much passion."

Ash could only sigh, the weight of the previous conversation pressing down on him and annoyed Gary had interrupted.

Brock quickly softened the mood, turning to Ash with a more supportive tone. "Anyway, Gary's just teasing, Ash. What he means to say is that he approves. So do I, for that matter."

"Yeah, I guess she's pretty cool." Gary closed his eyes and shot his characteristic crooked smile towards the floor, hands in his pockets. "Just come find me on my deathbed once you've made a move, Ashy-boy. And no, I was not planning on dying young."

xxxxx

After dinner and dessert, the large room lulled into silence as everyone prepared for sleep. It didn't take long for everyone to find their beds and leave the world of the conscious. Even Gary and Arven, who had spent hours engrossed in studying the Herba Mystica, succumbed to sleep, their earlier fascination giving way to complete fatigue.

Serena, however, lay awake as the night deepened. Her mind humming, not just with the day's adventures but with thoughts of what awaited her back in the city. The prospect of returning filled her with a mix of anticipation and dread. She longed to dive back into rehearsals, to pour her creativity into planning a new Showcase, this time with the complexity and thrill resembling the real thing. Yet, the shadow of Guillermo loomed large in her thoughts.

Despite her excitement for the future, Serena couldn't shake the feeling of entanglement with the Contest professor. She felt tethered by a sense of obligation, unsure how to step away from his guidance without seeming ungrateful. The thought of confronting this dilemma kept her tossing and turning.

"Hey,"

Ash's soft whisper cut through the stillness of the night, startling Serena from her restless thoughts.

She turned towards the source of the sound, her heart skipping at the unexpected interruption. About five feet across from her, Ash lay awake in his own bed, blinking at her with a sleepy, boyish look.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, shifting slightly on his side, careful not to wake Pikachu.

Serena, feeling the weight of his gaze, also rolled onto her side to face him more directly. She attempted a smile, an effort to mask her inner turmoil, but it faltered, dissolving into a resigned sigh. "Can't sleep," she confessed barely above a whisper.

"Me neither," Ash admitted, rubbing his face and shaking his head with a restless exhaustion. "Want to go outside and get some fresh air?" he suggested, his eyes briefly flicking towards the set of sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony.

He was trying to hide his desire to talk to her—to be near her. This want seemed to outweigh the nervousness he'd been feeling around her recently, making him a little more bold.

Serena paused, her gaze sweeping across the room to make sure they wouldn't disturb the others. Their sleeping forms remained undisturbed, the soft, rhythmic sounds of Goh and Nemona's snoring the only proof of their presence. A small smile curved her lips. "Sure," she agreed, warmth threading through the single word.

Together, they slipped from their beds, their movements cautious and deliberate as they navigated the dimly lit space towards the balcony.

Once outside, Ash carefully slid the glass doors closed behind them, sealing the quiet of the night around them. They moved towards a small bench fixed to the balcony. The night air was dry and warm. A slight breeze whispered across the landscape, rustling leaves and stirring the shadows.

Both were quiet for a moment before Serena broke the silence, her expression still a bit distracted as she stared ahead. "What a day," she sighed.

She was nervous, her fingers playing delicately with the hem of her pajama shorts. It took everything in her to keep herself from shaking. She wanted to ask Ash what he'd meant the night before—about what he meant about being more than friends—but kept hesitating, afraid honestly of what he might say. She didn't want to come off as too intense…Serena knew that it was entirely possible that Ash's feelings weren't as deep as her own, that he was only just scratching the surface of what he felt for her when she'd been drowning in her own adoration for a long time now.

At the sound of her voice, Ash startled. He'd been staring at her. The pink bow in her hair—like the one she'd always worn at night when they traveled together—had caught his attention. The sight made Ash wish for a moment that they could return to that time, but as they were now—which was a weird thought, he conceded.

His eyes moved to her face, noting again how it had changed over time. The profile was still Serena's, but different. Mature. Strong. He blanked for other words as his gaze traced the line of her jaw.

"So," Ash began slowly as he scratched the back of his head, "how was your time with Gary and Brock?" He folded his arms across his plain white T-shirt, trying to act casual.

"It was nice," Serena instantly smiled, warm and genuine. "Actually, I had a lot of fun talking to them."

Concern flickered across Ash's face. "They didn't give you a hard time, did they?" he asked with a slight wince.

Serena looked full of reassurance. "No, they seem to be really great friends. Gary looks up to you like a brother, and Brock—well, he's so sweet. And I know he's the kind of friend that would be there for you no matter what."

Ash let out a chuckle and relaxed. "Yeah, you're spot on. They really are great." He paused, a Zubat flitting across the moonlight, "It does mean a lot you got to spend some time with them. What did you all talk about?"

Serena, hugging her arms and looking down, shared her dilemma with Ash. She explained how she might need to part ways with Guillermo to truly innovate Showcases, which she earnestly wanted to only highlight the special bond between a performer and her Pokémon, not to be a platform where the performers were just puppets for some hidden agenda. Despite her initial excitement about Guillermo's vision to expand Showcases into Paldea and inspire young students, she admitted to feeling trapped or even tricked by him. Serena also recounted to Ash how she'd felt similarly when becoming Kalos Queen—feeling like she was only winning the title out of expectation rather than for the merit of her actual performances.

"I had hoped," she continued a bit sadly, playing with her fingers, "that by establishing Showcases in a new place, I could return to their essence and share that with others. But after last night I just feel like I'm not actually helping make Showcases better at all."

"Don't think that for one second, Serena!" Ash exclaimed passionately, shaking his head and trying to manage the anger he felt at the sound of Guillermo's name. He strived to keep his tone steady and encouraging, though inside, he felt a growing urge to throttle the professor. "You won Kalos Queen because you're amazing. You don't need anyone—especially that Guillermo guy—to do what you do best! I'm sure you'll figure something out! You make Showcases better every time you perform!"

Serena turned to him, offering him a sad smile. "I'm glad you think so. I'm just not sure how I'm going to be able to do something that really feels impossible right now."

"You'll find a way," Ash's gaze was as serious as she'd ever seen it. "You're strong, determined—you never give up, remember? That's our motto! You're going to change the world with your Showcases. I just know it."

Serena looked stunned. Her hand had instinctively gone to clutch her neck, where his ribbon would have been. The action was one she had resisted many times after they'd first parted but now she wished the fabric were there because…

A quiet lull fell between them, both turning their gazes away, as if the intensity of the moment had suddenly made them self-conscious. A soft blush colored each of their cheeks.

"I understand how you must feel, Serena," Ash finally broke the silence, inhaling deeply as he leaned back against the bench, his eyes drifting to the vast expanse of the night sky above. "Or at least, I know what it's like achieving a dream but then feeling like there's still more to do. But I think sometimes we have to just rest and be content with what we've done and remind ourselves how far we've come."

Serena, her gaze still averted but her lips curving into a gentle smile, sounded mildly surprised, "Ash? Are you telling me that sometimes you can just sit still and be content?" she giggled, the idea of Ash Ketchum sitting still was a novel concept.

"Only when I'm with you," Ash, caught up in the sound of her laugh, had grinned, his response slipping out before he could catch it.

Serena blinked and whirled on him, "What?"

What did he mean? He had said that so casually. Serena wanted to dig deeper but the depth of his words vanished from her as Ash, embarrassed, brushed them off with a wave.

"I mean—," he started, reaching up to scratch his nose. "Well, I guess you, uh—you're the only person I know who can get me to stop training for some Pokévision video."

Ash began to chuckle but the sound cut short—his mind wandering to the memory of Serena in the Fennekin costume. It was not the first time the image had flashed across his mind, and his face began to glow with heat

"That was really sweet of you to do for me," Serena hummed, oblivious to Ash's flustered state as she turned and leaned back on the bench as well. Her lips pulled softly upwards as she recalled the same memory but for a different reason. She had just been starting out then—her whole career ahead of her.

"It was nothing really," Ash managed with a slightly strained sound as he shifted in his seat, attempting to regain his composure.

Serena, after a thoughtful pause, sought clarity. "Ash, what do you mean about feeling like you could do more? You're the Monarch of the World. Most people consider you a Pokémon Master. How can you think you could do more?"

Ash responded with a shrug, his gaze drifting to the waxing moon. "I really don't know, and I'm trying to figure that out. But I feel like I should be doing something else with the title. Being monarch isn't just showing up for battle championships, right? I don't know. I just feel like there's more to being a Pokémon Master." He ran a hand through his black hair and let out a long puff of air.

"Same old Ash," Serena's finger delicately played with a loose thread on her shorts and smiled, admiration caught in her breath, "Always wanting to get stronger and be better. Always moving onto the next thing."

Ash froze at her words. He didn't know why they bothered him in this context, but they did. His mind drifted back to his conversation with Arven, and a familiar unease grappled him.

"Serena?" Ash's gaze suddenly snapped to her, intense and searching, "What did you mean when you said I was your goal? Before you left for Hoenn?"

Serena's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as she recalled something else from the moment, a rush of emotions and unsaid things swirling within her. "I…I meant that you were—are—the kind of person I want to be. Always determined. Never giving up. Always getting stronger," she managed with a mix of admiration and a hint of something more, something she kept close to her heart.

"Serena…" Ash whispered, barely audible, looking at her as if seeing her in a new light. He was at a loss, confused as to why she would aspire to be like him when, in his eyes, she was already everything one could admire—strong, determined, and uniquely herself.

Still grappling with the right response, Ash found his voice again, his tone sincere. "Serena, you are strong. And you have gotten even stronger since Kalos. The way you battled today—well, that was amazing." He was trying to mirror back the strength and determination she saw in him, to let her know that her growth and achievements stood brightly on their own.

Serena's blush deepened, her heart fluttering wildly. "Do you…" She gulped as if her next words took tremendous effort. "Do you also remember when I said that next time we would meet, I'd be, um…an attractive woman?" Serena bit her lip to stop herself from shaking, "I meant that in the sense that you would like the person I would become…as well as…that maybe…"

She was sure steam was coming out of her ears, but she pushed on. This was important to her.

Breathlessly she finished,"That maybe you would finally think I was beautiful."

Ash's eyes went wide and his skin burned. Air caught in his throat. "I…"

Then it hit him—maybe what Brock said about girls liking to be complimented in that way was true. Sure, Brock himself laid it on thick, but here Ash was realizing that maybe there was something to be said for letting a girl know she was...

Eventually Ash blurted it out because he just couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Serena, you are beautiful."

Immediately Serena's hands unconsciously moved to soothe her hair, his earnest stare making her dizzy, "You don't have to say that out of obligation, Ash."

"No, Serena, I would never lie to you," Ash responded, his dark eyes growing more intense. "I've…always thought you were really beautiful. You were always strong to me—and kind and encouraging and always there for your friends. That always made you beautiful to me…but also I, you know, sometimes thought about how pretty or cute you looked when you wore your different Showcase outfits or when you cut your hair and…well, maybe all the time." He gave her a cheeky smile and scratched his nose again.

Serena, now utterly crimson, realized part of her had hoped Ash would see her that way—not that it changed anything. Not really. But hearing his genuine appreciation made her feel seen in a way she hadn't fully anticipated. "Thank you, Ash, that's really kind of you to say."

So how do you feel about me, Ash? If you want to be more than friends, what do you mean by that? What do you want from me? What am I to you?

These were the words Serena wanted to ask but couldn't. It wasn't the right time. It was clear he was still working things out and she wanted to give him the space to do that. Besides, she hadn't been upfront with him about her own feelings yet—which she knew she would have to be soon. She needed him to know the depth of her admiration. If anything because it wouldn't be the same—it would never work between them—if he couldn't meet her there. And Serena was terrified of that possibility.

"Hey Serena, I do want you to know that I meant what I said about supporting you no matter what. I believe in you," Ash said sincerely, still smiling at her. "You don't need Guillermo. You'll figure something out and do what's best."

Serena turned away from him with a short laugh, and as she did, Ash's gaze inadvertently drifted to her lips.

For just a moment. A brief, fleeting moment.

But the thought that sparked his glance warmed his cheeks and his own lips grew leaden and numb.

"Thanks, Ash. I hope so" Serena's eyes glittered for a brief moment before she composed herself, turning back to him and nodding with renewed determination. "I won't give up."

"That's right…" Ash's response was soft, almost distant, as though in a trance.

And then, without fully realizing why, Ash's hand moved, his finger gently brushing a strand of Serena's moonlit hair away from her face. His fingers brushing her skin, sending a jolt through both of them.

The gesture, tender and unthinking, startled them both: Ash because he didn't know where the instinct had come from—he'd just wanted to touch her, to feel the closeness of her; and Serena, left almost breathless by the unexpected intimacy, questioning whether or not she'd fallen into a dream.

And then they turned away from each other, quickly—watching the starlit horizon wash the tops of the canyon with pools of light.

I hope this chapter satisfies you all for now! I need to give Geekgirles a special shout out as—not only has she been helping me flesh out the Paldean culture and correct my Spanish—some of the character interactions and the fluff you see here was inspired by her story "Piece of My Heart." So go check that out while you wait for me to update!

I will miss y'all. Hopefully see you Valentine's Day for a short feature, but then keep an eye out for updated chapters!

See you all in March 3

Also, yes, I made Gary's Blastoise learn Rain Dance for the battle with the titan. Sue me 😆