A/N:I know I know its been a while I am glad to be seeing this fic read so much. I also have been using this as a coping strategy and escapism for the moment. I meant to get this out months ago, but edits and getting my book self published took so much of my time that wasn't coaching and I feel so guilty about not working on this fic. I hope this update will make up for being missing.

Misty sat atop a low sandstone outcrop near the outskirts of the Circle of the Ancients, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun was dipping lower into the dunes. Every night, she sat in this exact spot, scanning the sands for any sign of Ash. Pikachu's absence beside her only deepened the void she felt. The sun painted the world in a mix of orange and gold, but for Misty, it was another reminder that Ash hadn't come back.

Her fingers absentmindedly brushed against the sand beside her as she exhaled heavily, frustration and worry twisting together in her chest. Just as the last rays of sunlight began to fade, a voice broke her concentration.

"You really think he's just going to walk out of the desert one day, don't you?"

Misty started slightly, glancing over her shoulder to see Soraya approaching, her usual desert garb flowing lightly in the evening breeze. Her vivid blue eyes reflected the dimming light, her expression unreadable but softened by the concern etched into her features.

Misty gave a small, sheepish smile, brushing the sand off her hands as Soraya settled down a few feet away from her. "You caught me," Misty said quietly. "I know it's ridiculous. It's just… Ash has a way of pulling through when you least expect it. It's kind of his thing."

Soraya tilted her head, her gaze shifting out to the endless dunes. "I've noticed," she said dryly, though there was no malice in her tone. "Still, you've been out here every night, haven't you? Watching and waiting."

Misty's smile faltered. "I can't help it. I—" She stopped herself, unsure if she wanted to admit aloud what had been weighing on her heart. "I just need to know he's okay."

Soraya gave her a sideways glance, an unspoken understanding passing between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet hum of the desert filling the space between them. Finally, Soraya broke the silence.

"Kaida wants to speak with you," she said, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "She didn't tell me why, but it sounded important."

Misty blinked, her brows knitting together. "Kaida? Why would she want to talk to me?"

Soraya shrugged, leaning back on her hands. "Who knows? Maybe she sees something in you." Her lips curved into a faint smirk. "You've managed to survive out here longer than most moengs. That counts for something."

Misty rolled her eyes, though a small grin tugged at her lips. "Great. I'll take that as a compliment, I guess."

There was a brief pause before Soraya's smirk faded, her tone turning more serious. "You care about him, don't you?" she asked, her gaze now firmly fixed on Misty.

Misty stiffened, her heart skipping a beat at the question. "Of course I care about him," she said quickly, avoiding Soraya's gaze by looking out at the dunes again. "He's my best friend."

Soraya's blue eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing look flashing across her face. "That's not what I mean, and you know it."

Misty hesitated, the weight of Soraya's words settling heavily in her chest. She opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. Finally, she sighed, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared at the darkening horizon.

"It doesn't matter right now," Misty said softly. "What matters is that he comes back safe. That's all I want."

Soraya studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Fair enough," she said, rising to her feet and brushing off her hands. "But you should still hear what Kaida has to say. She doesn't usually ask for people unless it's important."

Misty stood as well, her movements slower, as if the weight of her worries had sunk into her very bones. "Thanks for letting me know," she said, her voice quiet but sincere.

As Soraya turned to leave, she glanced back at Misty one last time. "He'll come back," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "You're not the only one who believes in him."

Misty watched her go, her heart a swirl of hope and doubt. She took one last look at the dark dunes before turning toward the inner sanctum of the Circle of the Ancients, where Kaida waited.

The air inside Kaida's tent was thick with the scent of burning incense, the flickering glow of oil lamps casting dancing shadows on the walls. Misty and Soraya stood before the elder, who sat cross-legged on a woven mat, amber eyes scrutinizing them with a sharpness that belied her age. The weight of her presence alone was enough to demand respect, but there was something deeper in her gaze tonight—an urgency neither Misty nor Soraya could quite place.

Kaida exhaled slowly, folding her hands together. "The two of you are here because we need to consider what comes next," she said, her voice steady but carrying a weight that settled heavily in the air. "Our people have suffered a great loss. The aldea is gone. The Tsika Army will not stop. Zephyr will not stop. And we are left with a difficult question."

Misty met her gaze evenly. "What question?"

Kaida shifted her focus onto Misty, studying her in a way that made Misty feel as though she were being measured, judged. "Whether it is time for you and your companion to leave."

Misty's breath hitched slightly. "Leave?" she repeated, blinking. "Why would we—?"

"You are not from Saharos," Kaida cut in, her tone gentle but firm. "You do not owe us this fight. We will not force you to stay and risk your lives for a war that is not your own."

Misty clenched her fists at her sides. "I didn't come here just to run away when things got bad," she argued, her voice edged with defiance. "We came here to find Ash. Now we're here, and you're telling us to leave?"

Soraya shifted beside her, crossing her arms. "I don't like the idea either," she admitted. "But Kaida isn't wrong. The more we lose, the more we have to think about our chances of survival. If Misty and Brock leave, they could bring back outside help."

Kaida inclined her head slightly. "Precisely."

Misty's thoughts raced. It wasn't a bad idea, not entirely. But leaving? It felt wrong. Still, she couldn't deny that Brock, at the very least, could get help. He could reach out to Professor Oak, maybe even Lance of the Pokémon G-Men. And yet, the thought of abandoning Ash in the middle of this nightmare made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Misty exhaled sharply. "If anything, Brock should go. He's the one with the medical knowledge. He can get help, and I can stay—"

A sharp, blaring note cut through the night air, stopping Misty mid-sentence.

The alarm horn.

Kaida immediately rose to her feet, her expression darkening. Soraya was already reaching for the dagger at her waist as Misty turned on her heel, her heart pounding.

Without another word, all three of them rushed out of the tent into the cool desert night, the distant sound of shouting growing louder as panic rippled through the Circle of the Ancients. Fires flickered along the ridges, illuminating the alarmed faces of Solarans scrambling to their positions.

Misty's gut twisted as she scanned the horizon.

Brock sprinted through the encampment, dodging panicked Solarans as they rushed to secure supplies and usher the young and elderly to safer ground. The alarm horn still blared in the distance, a bone-chilling sound that echoed through the stone formations of the Circle of the Ancients. His breath was heavy, but his pace never slowed until he caught sight of Misty standing at the edge of the gathering, eyes locked on the distant dunes.

"Misty!" Brock called, skidding to a stop beside her.

Misty didn't turn to face him, her gaze fixed on the horizon, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. "You see that, right?" she asked, voice tense.

Beyond the shifting sands, a massive silhouette moved forward, heavy steps kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake a Tyranitar.

Brock's hand instinctively flew to his belt, fingers curling around Steelix's Poké Ball. "Steelix might be our best shot at bringing that thing down before it gets too close," he muttered. His voice was steady, but his stomach churned with unease. "We don't know if it's wild, if it belongs to the Tsika Army, or if—" He hesitated, the unspoken name heavy between them, Zephyr.

Misty clenched her fists. "We can't assume it's a threat until we know for sure," she said, though there was tension in her voice. "But we also can't wait for it to get here before acting."

They turned as Rashid strode toward them, his posture rigid, shoulders squared. His expression was unreadable, though there was something off in the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the way his eyes flicked between the approaching figure and the Solarans behind him. He carried himself with boldness, a warrior through and through, but there was something else beneath it—a quiet apprehension buried under layers of hardened resolve.

"You want to help?" Rashid said gruffly, eyeing Brock with a hint of skepticism.

Brock nodded without hesitation. "We don't have time to second-guess this. If it's an enemy, we need to be ready. If it's not, we need to make sure no one here panics and attacks first."

Rashid exhaled sharply through his nose but didn't argue. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the dunes, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested on the hilt of the blade at his hip. "Then stay close. If this thing is a threat, I won't hesitate."

Soraya and Nadia moved swiftly into position, their eyes sharp with determination. Soraya's Torkoal was already at her side, steam rising from its shell, while Nadia had her Flygon hovering low, wings creating soft gusts of sand in anticipation.

No one spoke.

The air was thick with expectation, the only sounds being the distant howling of the desert wind and the rhythmic pounding of heavy footsteps growing ever closer.

Then, through the thinning sand veil, the Tyranitar's full form emerged.

And atop its back, gripping tightly as the wind whipped around him, was Ash.

The tension in the Circle of the Ancients was thick as Ash rode down from the dunes, his body swaying slightly atop the massive Shiny Tyranitar. The great beast's sandy gold hide seemed to blend almost seamlessly into the dunes, its armored plating glistening under the midday sun. Its every step sent a low tremor through the ground, sending ripples through the gathered Solarans—many of whom gasped or muttered prayers under their breath. Some clutched onto loved ones, others reached instinctively for weapons, eyes filled with uncertainty and dread.

Ash, in stark contrast to the rising unease, waved enthusiastically as if he had just strolled into a family reunion, a bright, lopsided grin stretched across his face. This'll smooth over in no time… right? he thought optimistically. But the longer the Solarans looked at Tyranitar, the clearer it became that the fear in their eyes wasn't so easily dismissed.

Nadia's amber eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable as she shifted closer to Soraya, her arms folded. Misty stood a few paces ahead of Brock, both of them watching the scene unfold with rising concern. Brock tensed, as if ready to recall Steelix at a moment's notice, while Misty's fingers ghosted over a Poké Ball on her hip, a flicker of hesitation in her ocean-blue eyes.

Rashid Qadir, however, made no such cautious moves. He stood rigid, arms crossed over his chest, his dark brows drawn tight. His piercing green eyes, so much like Soraya's, held an edge as sharp as flint as he glared down at the approaching figure of Ash Ketchum. Tariq and Samir, standing at Rashid's side, exchanged glances—silent but pointed. Neither spoke, but both looked aware that Rashid was in no mindset to offer a warm welcome.

Kaida, ever composed, simply watched. Her amber eyes flickered between Ash, Tyranitar, and Rashid, betraying nothing of her thoughts.

As Tyranitar halted, Ash slid off its back, landing with a small cloud of displaced sand. Pikachu, perched on his shoulder, twitched its ears, eyes darting across the gathered crowd. Tension curled in the air like an impending sandstorm.

Rashid was the first to speak.

"What have you done, moeng?" His voice was quiet but firm, carrying through the circle.

Ash took a breath, stepping forward with careful humility. "I found a way to help," he said evenly, his brown eyes locked onto Rashid's intense gaze. "You saw what Zephyr's thing did. You saw what it did to your home, to your people. But now we have something that can fight back."

Rashid's lips curled slightly, not quite a snarl, but dangerously close. "You expect us to just embrace this?" He gestured sharply to the Shiny Tyranitar, which stood behind Ash, silent but watching. "The thing that destroyed Zephyr's family? You think this is our salvation?" His voice rose, anger curling at the edges of his words.

Ash didn't flinch. "I don't know," he admitted, honesty laid bare. "But I do know that if we don't fight back, Zephyr is going to wipe out everything here. And I can't—I won't—let that happen." His voice was unwavering now, his fists clenched. "Not while I can do something about it."

Rashid's jaw tightened. For a moment, no one moved, the only sound the faint, shifting winds rolling over the desert.

Then, unexpectedly, Tariq stepped forward. "Rashid," he said, calm, but firm, "Ash isn't wrong."

Samir nodded. "If he's tamed this one…" He gestured to Tyranitar, "then maybe—just maybe—he can stop Zephyr's monster."

The older Qadir sibling let out a sharp breath through his nose, shaking his head in frustration. His fingers twitched like he wanted to grip something, anything, just to anchor himself.

Finally, he spoke again, his words carrying weight. "Then prove it." He stepped forward, looking Ash dead in the eye. "You trust this thing? Then you better be ready to stake your life on it."

Ash didn't hesitate. "I already did." His voice was steady, firm—and it was clear that he meant it.

The moment stretched long, the unspoken challenge heavy between them.

Then, Kaida finally spoke. "Enough," she said, her voice neither approving nor disapproving. Just measured. She looked at Ash, then at Rashid, then at the massive Shiny Tyranitar, which continued to stand motionless under the weight of so many wary gazes.

"This conversation will continue," she said simply. "For now, let us tend to our people and prepare for what is to come."

Ash took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he watched Rashid walk away, his shoulders still tight with tension. This wasn't a victory—not yet—but for now, it would stand. At least Rashid wasn't outright rejecting him anymore. That was enough for today.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the familiar faces that had kept him grounded in all this chaos.

First, Nadia, standing with her arms crossed, giving him a look that was half-exasperation, half-amusement. Beside her, Soraya, her usual guarded expression slightly softer, watching him with something that almost resembled reluctant acknowledgment.

Then, Brock, standing just behind them, who caught Ash's glance and grinned. "You good?" Brock mouthed, not needing an answer.

But Ash didn't get the chance to respond—because Pikachu launched off his shoulder, streaking forward in a blur of yellow.

"Pi-ka-chu-pi!"

Pikachu's cry was full of relief and urgency as he leaped into Misty's arms, burying himself against her.

Misty's breath hitched. Her arms instinctively wrapped around Pikachu, her fingers threading through his fur as she held him close. The tension in her shoulders, in her stance—all the anxiety she had bottled up for weeks finally cracked.

A single silent tear slipped down her cheek. One she quickly wiped away before anyone could see.

Soraya and Nadia, ever practical, walked up to Ash and raised an eyebrow.

"You need food?" Nadia asked, her tone dry.

Before Ash could even answer, his stomach beat him to it.

A loud, grumbling growl echoed from his midsection, causing Soraya and Nadia to smirk.

"Sounds like it," Brock said, chuckling as he clapped a hand on Ash's shoulder.

Ash chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess I overdid it a little."

But before he could move, Misty was suddenly in front of him.

She didn't hesitate.

Without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

It wasn't one of her usual teasing jabs, no sarcastic remarks or playful shoves—it was just a hug, raw and real.

Ash stiffened for a second, caught off guard, before slowly relaxing into it.

"I'm just glad you're alive, Ash," Misty murmured against his shoulder, her voice quiet but firm.

Then, before he could even process the moment, she pulled back— and punched his arm. Hard.

"Now stop making me think the worst has happened to you!" she snapped, crossing her arms.

"Ow—Misty!" Ash yelped, rubbing his arm. "I just got back!"

"Yeah, well, maybe next time don't take weeks before showing your face again," she shot back, frowning.

Pikachu let out a long-suffering sigh, as if to say, Here we go again.

Nadia snorted. "If you two are done with your dramatic reunion, let's eat before Brock inhales everything himself."

"Hey!" Brock protested, but he was already turning toward their shelter.

Ash, Pikachu still perched on his shoulder, followed Misty and the others toward where Brock had set up camp, the smell of something hot and filling drawing them in.

The moment the first bowl of food hit his hands, Ash wasted no time devouring it.

Pikachu, equally famished, dove headfirst into his own portion, letting out a contented "Pikaaa~" as he ate.

Misty watched them for a moment, shaking her head with a small, almost imperceptible smile before finally sitting down beside them.

For the first time in weeks, it felt like things might just be okay.