#2: A League of His Own

The wind howls across Victory Road's jagged peaks as Penn trudges upward, his boots crunching against loose gravel. Ahead looms the Unova Pokémon League, its ancient stone walls piercing the clouds like a castle from legend. Eight Badges lay in the case inside his bag—proof of his journey, of countless battles fought and won.

Yet as the castle grows larger with each step, Penn can't shake the feeling that this is both a beginning and an end. The League represents everything he's worked toward, but what comes after? The thought of his journey ending leaves an odd emptiness in his chest. He's spent nearly a year exploring Unova, meeting people, catching and raising Pokémon, growing stronger. The idea that it might all be over soon-win or lose—makes his chest tight. What would he do once he had no more Badges to earn, no more goals to chase?

"Almost…there…" Penn adjusts his bag, muscles aching from the climb. His legs burn from hours of scaling the mountain's treacherous paths. The thin air at this altitude makes each breath feel like a wheeze. Sweat runs down his back despite the cold wind, and his shoulders protest under the weight of the bag. Common sense tells him to rest, but anticipation pulses through his veins like electricity, drowning out his body's complaints. He's waited almost a year for this moment.

Penn takes a long drink from his water bottle. The sun hangs low in the sky, painting Victory Road's rocky walls in shades of orange and purple. He should make camp, get a fresh start tomorrow. That would be the smart choice. But the League building is right there. The thought of waiting another day makes his skin itch.

Finally, Penn makes it. The massive wooden doors creak open at his touch. Inside, cool air and silence greet him. The entrance hall stretches high above, its vaulted ceiling adorned with intricate murals depicting legendary battles. Penn recognizes some scenes from battles he saw on TV—Alder's historic first championship victory, then Iris's triumph over the previous Champion. Golden light streams through tall stained-glass windows, casting rainbow patterns across the polished floor. Ornate pillars of white marble stand next to the walls.

A receptionist looks up from her desk, which seems almost small in the grand space. The clicking of her keyboard echoes in the reverent silence. "Welcome to the Pokémon League," she says way too casually. "Are you here to challenge the Elite Four?"

"Yes." Penn's voice echoes in the marble hall. "I have all eight Badges."

She types into her computer. "Name?"

"Penn Truman."

"Very well. Please follow me."

They walk through torch-lit corridors until reaching an enormous circular chamber. Four ornate doorways branch off in different directions.

"Each path leads to an Elite Four member," she says. "Fighting, Psychic, Ghost, and Dark. You may challenge them in any order. Good luck."

Penn studies the doors. The rightmost can barely contain the bright lights within, or the bass-heavy music.

"I'll start there."

The corridor opens into an enormous arena styled after a professional boxing venue. Spotlights sweep across a regulation-sized ring. The floor around the ring is padded with training mats, and one wall displays an impressive collection of championship belts - some from Pokémon battles, others from…martial arts competitions?

A muscular, yellow-haired man in a crisp, blue, sleeveless jacket stands center-stage, his arms crossed and eyes closed in meditation. His presence alone makes the air feel electric. Even motionless, his body brims with strength.

"Welcome, challenger. I am Marshal of the Elite Four."

"I'm Penn, fr-from Aspertia City."

Marshal nods. "Show me your prowess. Six versus six."

Penn throws his first Poké Ball. "All right, let's do this!"

Glaceon bursts from the ball, agile and poised. Penn wishes he could tell himself he sent her out on purpose. Marshal simply smiles and sends out Mienshao.

"Force Palm."

Before Penn can even call an attack, Mienshao closes the distance in a blur. Its palm strike launches Glaceon clear across the arena.

"Oh no! Glaceon!" Penn watches in horror as his Pokémon tumbles into the ropes, unconscious.

Penn sends out Lucario next, hoping his strongest partner can turn the tide. The Aura Pokémon takes his battle stance, paws raised in a defensive position as he sizes up his opponent. His eyes glow yellow as they detect Mienshao's overwhelming power.

"Aura Sphere!" Penn commands.

Lucario channels his aura to form a blue orb between his paws. The attack launches with perfect accuracy - a move that should be impossible to dodge. But Mienshao weaves through it like water flowing around a rock.

"Now use Bone Rush!" Penn says.

Lucario forms his energy staff, but Mienshao is already inside his guard. A High Jump Kick rocks him with devastating force. The impact launches him backward, and he slams into the ring post. The energy staff dissipates as Lucario slides to the canvas, unconscious before he even touches the floor. Penn's heart sinks—if his strongest Pokémon fell so easily, what chance do the others have?

It would be okay, though. …Right? Glaceon and Luke are weak to Fighting, so maybe it was smart to lead with them. This battle can only go up from here.

Dewott enters the fray with a confident flourish of his scalchops, spinning them with his usual showmanship. He strikes a dramatic pose, trying to mask his nervousness with bravado. But his trembling paws betray his fear as Mienshao closes in with weightless steps.

"Water Pulse!"

Dewott forms a sphere of swirling water between his paws and launches it with precision. Mienshao simply steps around the attack, its movement so casual it seems almost insulting. Dewott backs away, his confident facade cracking. He fires another Water Pulse, then another, each attack more desperate than the last.

Mienshao weaves through the attacks without breaking form. Before Dewott can adjust his stance or raise his scalchops in defense, a Drain Punch connects with his stomach. The impact lifts him off his feet, and the force drives the air from his lungs. Penn watches helplessly as his partner's eyes go wide with shock, then vacant. Dewott faints before he hits the ground, his scalchops clattering on the mat.

Druddigon roars as he comes out of his Poké Ball, warming the arena with his fury. For a moment, his pure rage seems to make Mienshao hesitate. But the Fighting-type's experience shows as it dodges every wild, vengeful swing. A precise Force Palm to Druddigon's jaw ends his rampage.

Luxray manages to graze Mienshao with a Thunderbolt, the first hit Penn's team lands. The little victory is short-lived; Mienshao retaliates with a flurry of strikes too fast to follow, and Luxray collapses.

Even Golurk's massive bulk proves no match. It tries to defend with its huge arms, but Mienshao's repeated Acrobatics finds every weak point. Each impact chips away at Golurk's strength until the ancient Pokémon falls to one knee, then forward onto the mat with a tremoring crash.

And that's it. The battle ends in minutes, though to Penn it felt like seconds. He stands frozen as he blankly stares at his empty hands. The gap in their abilities isn't just a gap—it's a canyon, wide and deep enough to swallow all his dreams of victory. His Badges, earned through months of traveling and training, suddenly feel like trinkets compared to the true power before him.

"Your Pokémon fought bravely," Marshal says quietly as he softens his expression. "Each one tried their hardest for you. But there's a difference between earning Gym Badges and facing the Elite Four. True strength isn't just about power—it's about understanding its limits, then finding a way to surpass it. You still have much to learn. Please return and battle me again once you've done so."

Penn recalls Golurk without a word. His chest feels hollow. The walk back to the corridor seems to take forever; every step forward takes too much effort. He leaves his dreams of victory in the arena behind him, along with the confidence he'd built over his journey. Eight Badges had made him think he was ready. He wasn't even close.

In the entrance hall, Penn passes the receptionist without meeting her eyes. The wooden doors close behind him with a final, heavy thud.

He makes it halfway down the stairs before the tears start falling.

"I'm sorry," he whispers to no one in particular. "I'm so sorry I wasn't strong enough."

The cold wind carries his words away, leaving only the bitter taste of defeat.

Penn hangs uncomfortably on Golurk's shoulders as it silently glides through the sky. Penn usually detests traveling by flight, because it made him feel lazy, too dependent on his Pokémon. Today, he doesn't care. Golurk lands in a quiet corner of Opelucid City, near a small park with weathered benches and autumn-colored trees. It's a nice contrast to the technological jungle that is the rest of the city. Penn slides off with mechanical movements, devoid of his usual energy.

He sends out all of his Pokémon as he plops onto a bench. They materialize around him in a circle of light. Each looks at him expectantly, sensing their Trainer's turmoil.

Penn's voice cracks. "I am so sorry, guys. I completely failed you all."

Lucario steps forward and places a paw on Penn's arm. His aura detection reveals Penn's raw self-disappointment. The Pokémon's expression—deep and knowing—seems to say: We all did our best.

Dewott brandishes a scalchop with a flourish. "Duuu-wott." He looks at Penn with an unbroken smirk.

Luxray nudges Penn's hand, compelling him to scratch behind her ear.

"Marshal destroyed me," Penn says. "I thought I was strong enough. I thought—" His words dissolve into silence.

Druddigon lets out a low, rumbling growl. Not a sound of the typical anger or annoyance, but of solidarity. Glaceon climbs into Penn's lap, her cool body a comforting weight. Golurk looks down at them and utters a deep murmur of sympathy.

"I let you all down."

A sudden movement catches his eye. Someone is running toward them—blue hair streams behind her, yellow tips bright in the sunlight. Penn recognizes that silhouette anywhere. It's the same one that always shows up when he most needs a friend—well, a human one.

Perrin arrives, slightly out of breath. Her ever-present camera bumps against her hip. Her eyes—sharp as always—take in the scene before her: Penn surrounded by his Pokémon, shoulders slumped in a way that's so unlike him. She doesn't need to ask what happened, but she does anyway. "Hey there, bud," she says softly. "Did you challenge the League today?"

His broken demeanor gives her the answer. She sits beside him, close enough that their shoulders touch, her presence filling the space with the kind of understanding that only comes from true friendship. No platitudes, no forced cheerfulness. Just the quiet companionship of someone who knows when to simply be there.

Growly pads over, his rocky mane catching the light as he first greets Lucario with a friendly yip. The Hisuian Growlithe then makes his rounds: a playful bark at Dewott, who responds with his typical cool-guy nod; a gentle headbutt against Luxray, who purrs affectionately in return; even Druddigon, who tends to stay standoffish with other Pokémon, acknowledges Growly with an almost friendly grunt.

"The Elite Four are brutal," Perrin says after a moment, bumping his shoulder with hers—a familiar gesture from lots of conversations shared over campfires and coffee shops. "Even the strongest Trainers struggle there, no matter the region. Remember when I told you about my first challenge in the Sinnoh League?"

Penn manages a weak smile as he remembers the story. "You said your Empoleon didn't land a single hit."

"Exactly. And look at me now—still taking pictures, still loving what I do. Sometimes the path we think we're supposed to take isn't the one we're meant for, at least not right away."

Penn stares at his hands. "I thought we were ready…"

"Psh. Ready is so relative," Perrin replies. "Each battle teaches you something. Even losses."

Growly, who has settled between Glaceon and Lucario like he's always belonged there, presses his nose against Penn's palm, then rests his head on the Trainer's knee. Glaceon allows the minor intrusion. The gesture feels like a small blessing, a reminder that friendship comes from anywhere, in all forms.

"I have something that might cheer you up," Perrin says, reaching into her bag. She pulls out two tickets. "Look. The Pokémon World Tournament in Driftveil! South block on the front row. Wanna come? I'm taking pictures for the magazine."

Penn's eyes boggle at the tickets. "Seriously?" A smile breaks through his despair, small but genuine.

"Absolutely. Nothing heals a wounded spirit like good battles and good company."

His Pokémon cluster around, sensing the shift in mood. The only thing they love almost as much as battling, is watching other Pokémon battle. He taught them how important that is.

Penn takes a deep breath. The weight of defeat hasn't vanished, but it feels lighter now. Manageable. "Well. When do we leave?"

The morning sun glints off Golurk's smooth, rocky surface as Penn soars above the clouds. Perrin and Viaro, her Hisuian Braviary, glides close by with barely-moving wings.

"You doing okay over there?" Perrin calls through the wind.

Penn adjusts his grip on Golurk's shoulders. "Just…trying not to look down!"

The pastoral skyline of Driftveil City emerges through the cloud cover ahead. The old mining equipment in the northeast part of town stands as a testament to the city's industrial heritage, while the Pokémon World Tournament coliseum rises from the southern district, its dome a blunt difference to the traditional architecture surrounding it.

"There it is!" Perrin points excitedly. "Let's land by the east entrance."

Their Pokémon descend in wide spirals, touching down in a designated landing zone. Penn's legs wobble as he slides off Golurk's back. Lucario, who had been enjoying the flight from Golurk's other shoulder, hops down with a front-flip.

"I'll never get used to flying. Never."

"Oh please, you big baby," Perrin says as they recall their Pokémon. "Come on, the tournament starts soon!"

They make their way through the bustling plaza toward the stadium entrance. Food vendors hawk their wares while fans stream past adorned in merchandise.

"Trainer needed!" A voice cuts through the crowd. "Last-minute replacement! Any takers? Hello?"

A harried-looking man in a powder blue suit waves a clipboard frantically. His tie hangs loose and his disheveled hair sticks up at odd angles.

Penn frowns. "What's going on here, sir?" he asks as he approaches the man.

"It's a horrible situation! I-I'm not sure what to do. One of our contestants had a family emergency. We need a replacement or the whole bracket falls apart!"

"What kind of tournament is it?"

"The Driftveil Tournament! Single elimination, best-of-three battles. Winner gets—"

"He'll do it!" Perrin interrupts, then shoves Penn forward.

"What?! No, I—"

"Perfect!" The promoter grabs Penn's hand. "Come with me, quickly!"

"Perrin!" Penn protests as he's dragged away. "What are you—"

"You need this!" She waves, grinning. "Go show them what you've got!"

The promoter pulls Penn through a side door—"STAFF ONLY"—and down a fluorescent-lit stairwell. Lucario hurries excitedly behind.

"Here." He shoves the clipboard into Penn's hands. "Fill these out while we walk. I'll need your Trainer ID, team roster, medical history…"

"But I haven't even—"

"No time! The tourna— Ooh, my heart… Hoo. Tournament starts in twenty minutes!"

Penn scrambles to write while speed-walking. His normally neat handwriting becomes increasingly illegible. "Dude, wait, what are the rules? How many Pokémon—"

"Three-versus-three format, standard League rules." The promoter checks his watch. "Dear me! Eighteen minutes! No no no…"

They round another corner and stop at a door marked "TRAINER PREP". Penn feels Lucario bump into him.

"Wait in here until they call your name. Good luck, and thanks!" The promoter snatches the clipboard and disappears down the hall.

Penn stands frozen, staring at the door. Through the walls, he can hear the growing roar of the crowd above.

"…What just happened?"

Lucario pushes the door open and goes in first. Penn almost tells the Pokémon no, but the effort isn't worth it. He settles with, "Wait up."

He sinks onto a bench, peering at the dented lockers. His heart starts to race as the reality of his situation sets in. Lucario finds a spot to sit and meditate. The crowd's cheers reverberate through the ceiling, and somewhere above an announcer's voice booms through speakers.

"Well," Penn mutters to himself, "I wanted a chance to improve. I guess we're about to get one."

Meanwhile, in the stands, Perrin weaves through the excited crowd to find her seat. The stadium buzzes with anticipation as thousands of fans jam to an opening performance from Koffing and the Toxics. She sets up her camera just as the house lights begin to dim and the band disperses.

A hush falls over the crowd. Dramatic music swells through the speakers as smoke billows across the battlefield. Through the haze strides Clay, Driftveil's Gym Leader, wearing his signature cowboy hat and duster coat.

"Llllladies and gentlemennn!" His voice booms through the arena. "Welcome to the greatest show in all of Unova—the Driftveil Tournament!"

The crowd erupts in cheers.

"We've got ourselves sixteen of the finest Trainers ready to battle for glory! The next three days're gonna be nothin' but smokin' hot battles! Y'all better hold onto your seats!"

Perrin finds herself cheering along with everyone else. Through her camera lens, she captures Clay's theatrical gestures as he works the crowd into a frenzy. He had a reputation for being more of the reserved type, but not today, it seems.

"Now, let's kick things off with our first match!" Clay sweeps his arm toward the red corner. "From the shores of Undella Town, Marinaaaa!"

A woman with flowing silver hair waves to the crowd.

"And in the blue corner, a young highflyer from Mistralton City, Theooo!"

A young boy in a cheap, oversized pilot's jacket pumps his fists in the air.

The battle that follows is fast and fierce. Marina's Jellicent trades powerful Hydro Pump attacks with Theo's Tranquill, their moves creating whirling arcs of water and wind across the battlefield. But when Marina sends out her Alomomola, the tide quickly turns in her favor. The Water type proves too tricky for Theo's entire team to handle. Perrin masterfully captures every move, every moment. Through her camera lens, she snaps Marina's dramatic victory pose as Alomomola circles around its Trainer. The crowd roars with approval.

She checks the tournament bracket displayed on the giant screen. Her excitement builds as she spots Penn's name in the second match slot. She can't wait to see him come up. But down in the locker room, Penn sits, anxiously awaiting to be called.