Cynthia forced her smile down as Johanna giggled beside her again. As much as she wanted to bask in the glow of someone asking for her autograph, she still needed to focus. So she simply rolled her eyes at Johanna’s grin and turned her attention back to the arena.

  Myst looked as composed as ever as he walked calmly toward the center of the battlefield. He hadn’t even bothered to take his hands out of his pockets, and if it weren’t for the way he kept glancing around like he was scanning the place, Cynthia could’ve sworn he was walking around looking for a place to take a nap.

  Halfway across the field, he stopped. Raised a hand to his forehead. Peered across the gym, looking straight toward her and Johanna.

  Normally, he’d probably wave. But...

  Myst squinted, then looked up at the ceiling and glared.

  Honestly, Cynthia couldn’t blame him.

  The Oreburgh Gym, like most of the city, was carved directly into the mountain. Compared to Eterna’s Gym with its bright, open-aired space and sun shining down over tiered benches, this place felt more like a sealed cavern. More than that, the lighting didn’t help. Instead of natural light, the gym was lit by massive industrial lamps suspended high above. Harsh, overbright and all in all almost blinding.

  Worse, they didn’t even light the stands.

  From the battlefield, they were just shadows. Even if you stared hard, you still couldn’t tell who was watching—

  Or if anyone was watching at all.

  “I guess the crowd really isn’t too big, huh,” Johanna murmured beside her, glancing around.

  Cynthia paused, dragging her eyes away from Myst to peer into the darkness. She squinted, trying to make out the vague figures scattered across the benches on this side. A dozen, maybe a bit more. Or less. It was hard to say. Either way, not being able to tell said enough. The stands, if filled, could hold a few hundred. Right now, they just felt hollow.

  …Not that she’d expected a full crowd. The most interesting matches usually happened early in the season, when sweepers came through to blitz the first few Gyms, or near the end, when elite trainers from Veilstone or Sunnyshore made their final badge runs.

  "Not much interest for a two-badge challenge this time of year," Cynthia said, looking back towards the arena.

  Johanna tilted her head. “I mean, yeah, that makes sense. I never paid much attention to the circuit after I decided to focus on contests, but I guess people are probably tired of the lower-tier fights by now.”

  Cynthia nodded. “Pretty much. And it’s not just that. Think about who’d be on their second badge right now.”

  Johanna raised a brow. “Yeah. Who would only have one badge after two months? The horror.”

  Cynthia nodded solemnly. “Exactly. If you want to be taken seriously, you should, at minimum, be on your way to your third badge. Being finished with it would be better, but even with how easy the first two badges are, the travel time makes that—”

  She stopped mid-sentence and turned slowly.

  Johanna was covering her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.

  “What?” Cynthia snapped.

  Johanna waved a hand. “Nothing. Really. Just... I’m getting the distinct vibe that you’re not a huge fan of the Champion’s new policies.”

  “I don’t hate them,” Cynthia muttered. “I just think Gyms should be a challenge. Right now, you can’t even say they’re testing anything.”

  Johanna shrugged. “Sure, but they’re not meant to be challenges anymore. Not at the start. They’re meant to be introductions.”

  Cynthia raised a brow.

  “I mean, I guess you don’t have that problem,” Johanna continued, “but a lot of people don’t grow up battling. Some of them never even had their own Pokémon before starting their journey. For them, walking into a Gym isn’t like taking a test, it’s like stepping into an entirely different world. And before the policies changed? Most of them didn’t stand a chance. At least now they get to learn what it means to fight. They get to figure out how battles actually work before they’re thrown into the deep end.”

  Cynthia opened her mouth to argue.

  Then the lights exploded, blinding white, searing down on the battlefield. Cynthia’s eyes slammed shut on reflex.

  Yeah, she had completely forgotten.

  BOOM!

  It was the kind of sound that rattled your teeth. Like someone had taken a chunk of the mountain and just punched it with a fistful of steel.

  Which, technically, wasn’t far off.

  Dust and grit billowed into the air. Cynthia flinched, pried one eye open, then the other, and stared.

  At the far end of the battlefield, where solid bedrock had stood just moments ago, now yawned a ragged, gaping hole. Chunks of stone tumbled across the floor, jagged edges glowing faintly under the harsh lights.

  Sitting dead center, like it hadn’t been just casually driven through a mountain wall, was a massive, bright yellow excavator. Dust-caked but gleaming, one claw still raised mid-swing, hydraulics hissing.

  Then the cabin door slammed open.

  Byron leapt out like a superhero, landing with one hand on the ground in a crouch, boots kicking up a fresh cloud of dust. His gray-and-yellow-striped uniform clung to his frame like armor. His safety helmet gleamed like a beacon.

  Cynthia cringed.

  It should’ve been cool. It was cool.

  The first time.

  The problem?

  This was what he did. Every time. Against every challenger. And somehow, he always acted like it was spontaneous.

  Brush off.

  Byron straightened, dusted off his uniform—

  Lift helmet.

  —then pulled the bright orange safety helmet from his reddish hair.

  Beside her, Johanna opened her mouth.

  Spontaneous speech.

  “Apologies for the delay,” she intoned in a perfect mimic of Byron’s gravelly voice, just as his real voice echoed over the loudspeakers.

  Byron raised a hand and released his Aggron.

  No roar. No drama. Just a sigh.

  The steel giant stomped once.

  A pulse of Rock-type energy surged outward, sweeping across the battlefield. The rubble glowed, floated, and twisted through the air, reforming the wall with eerie precision. The excavator lifted itself and drifted back into a newly formed alcove. The stone sealed shut behind it, spotless.

  Aggron groaned. Then vanished into his Poké Ball.

  Cynthia shook her head. It was incredible. The sheer control. The power.

  And yet…

  “Tunnels caved in on the usual entrance again, figured I’d take the shortcut,” she and Johanna said in perfect sync, before looking at each other—

  Then erupting in giggles.

  Johanna smirked as she calmed down. “I swear, he doesn’t even change the phrasing.”

  Cynthia was mid-snort when Myst’s voice crackled across the speakers.

  “Damn. I guess I gotta step up my ga—” He froze mid-sentence, a beat of silence following like realization had hit. “...Oh.”

  It was the unmistakable tone of someone who had just realized their mic was live.

  Byron didn’t miss a beat. He just chuckled and strode toward the center of the field like nothing had happened.

  “So,” he said, stopping in front of Myst, “standard rules? Or you got something special in mind?” He paused, then stuck out a hand. “Almost forgot, Byron. Leader of this little hole in the wall.”

  Myst brushed off his earlier mistake and took the handshake.

  “Damn. You call it a hole, but you sure know how to make an entrance.”

  Byron, halfway through letting go, froze. He stood still for a second. Unreadable. Cynthia couldn’t see his expression from the stands, but she could feel the weight of his stare.

  Sizing Myst up.

  Then, he laughed. A deep, rolling sound that echoed through the gym, tinged with something like disbelief.

  “You from another Region boy?”

  Cynthia blinked. From her angle she couldn’t quite see Myst’s face either, but, then again, she didn’t need to see his.

  “That,” he said, grinning into the mic, “is a definite possibility.”

  …

  Byron took his spot at the far end of the field, rolling his shoulders before glancing back at Myst with something close to amusement.

  “You sure about this?” he called out. “Challenging me at third-badge level? It’s not gonna change anything, you know. I’m not handing out bonus badges just because you asked nicely. And you’ve only registered two Pokémon. You realize I’m required to use three at this level, right?”

  Myst shrugged.

  “I mean, I promised I’d at least ask. And since you were generous enough to agree…” He offered a half-smile. “Well, I’m not the kind of guy who breaks a promise.”

  Byron barked a laugh, sharp and booming, echoing across the cavernous gym.

  “Oh, I see how it is! If it’s for a promise, there can only be one reason!” He jabbed a finger through the air with theatrical certainty. “You’re doing this to impress a girl!”

  Cynthia froze.

  It took a full second for her brain to catch up to the words. She turned, very slowly, toward Johanna, only to find her deliberately looking away, shoulders trembling with contained laughter.

  Heat rushed up Cynthia’s neck.

  What kind of ridiculous leap was that? How did Byron get from asking for a challenge to doing it for a girl?

  She forced herself to glance back toward Myst.

  Which, weirdly, helped.

  Not because Myst took it in stride.

  That would’ve made things worse.

  No, it was the opposite. Myst looked like someone had hit him in the face with a frying pan. He opened his mouth, clearly about to say something, but what came out was pure static. The mic caught every garbled syllable, echoing across the gym like an audio malfunction.

  Byron raised an eyebrow, watching him flounder. Then he muttered, “Huh. Guess that one had to land eventually.”

  Laughter rippled through the crowd. Small as it was, the audience seemed to perk up, suddenly invested in more than just the match. Even so, Byron must’ve realized he was one word away from completely psyching Myst out, because he turned toward the sideline and raised his voice.

  “Ref! Let’s get this started, yeah?”

  The loudspeakers hissed as the referee’s voice came on.

  “This will be a battle between Byron Tougan, Gym Leader of Oreburgh, and the challenger, Myst—”

  A shrill burst of feedback shrieked through the speakers, cutting off the name and making several people in the audience wince.

  Cynthia winced too, clenching her jaw as the static shrilled in her ears.

  After a few seconds of awkward scrambling, the sound finally stabilized, and the referee coughed once before continuing, a bit more sheepishly. “At the request of the Gym Leader, this battle will take place at third-badge-level strength. It will be a three-on-two match. Because of this, the challenger is allowed one substitution. Are both trainers ready?”

  Byron gave an easy nod. Myst, still red in the face, raised a silent thumbs-up.

  “Then let both trainers release their Pokémon.”

  Myst reached for his belt, but Byron was already moving. With an almost casual flick, he pulled a Poké Ball from his hip and raised it high.

  “Let me give you a small advantage. Bronzor, dominate the battlefield,” he said, and tossed it.

  The flash of red light burst across the battlefield, followed by a low, ringing chime. A Bronzor hovered slowly into view, its metallic body catching the overhead light, its eyes blinking with a slow, eerie calm.

  Cynthia held her breath at the sight of it, forcing herself not to tense.

  “Byron has trained a Bronzor?” Johanna whispered beside her, surprise coloring her voice.

  Cynthia nodded, but her thoughts were already elsewhere. Her eyes were locked on Myst instead, studying the subtle way he shifted his stance, like he’d just recalculated something.

  “I thought you would prefer more direct Pokémon?” Myst asked slowly.

  Byron gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I do, doesn’t mean I can’t branch out. Gotta learn new things somehow, right? ’Course…” He smirked faintly. “People still say I fight the same way no matter what I bring.”

  Myst tilted his head slightly, then gave a small, half-smile.

  “Well then… Rei, let’s beat them up.”

  With a flick of his wrist, a burst of red light lit the field. Rei landed in a crouch, feet barely making a sound. Her eyes locked onto Bronzor immediately, narrowing with dangerous focus. Her ears twitched. Her stance coiled tighter, every muscle taut and ready.

  Beside her, Johanna glanced between the two Pokémon. Then her brow furrowed, like something had just clicked.

  “Wait…” she murmured, voice low. “Myst only has Rei and Navi?”

  Cynthia blinked, then turned toward her. “What?” she asked, frowning. “You thought he had more?”

  Johanna didn’t look away from the battlefield. Her mouth was set in a thin line.

  “I just… I know you said he was asking for a third-badge-level battle, so I figured he’d bring something strong against Steel-types. Maybe a Fire-type that prefers to relax in its Poké Ball or something? I mean, now that I’m saying it out loud, it sounds kind of stupid, but I honestly thought he wouldn’t even bring Navi. After all, going in with just a Buneary and a Ralts?” She glanced at Cynthia, trying for a smile, but it came out more like a wince. “Like, not that I think he’s necessarily going to lose, but—”

  “Just watch,” Cynthia said, cutting her off with a roll of her eyes.

  Johanna opened her mouth to respond, but the loudspeakers buzzed, cutting off anything she would have wanted to say.

  “Since both trainers have released their Pokémon, let the battle officially begin!”

  Rei vanished.

  Before Myst could speak, before Byron could issue a single command, she was already gone in a flash of white.

  Fake Out.

  Cynthia’s eyes snapped to Bronzor, expecting the hit to land there.

  Too late.

  An explosion rocked the arena. The floor trembled beneath their feet as the screech of metal biting into stone echoed off the cavern walls. A moment later came the deeper rumble, followed by a strange, low hum, like the mountain itself was groaning.

  “Get it off you!” Byron’s voice cut through the noise like a blade.

  Beside her, Johanna gasped. Cynthia whipped her gaze back down, just in time to catch the purple burst of energy that washed over the arena, chasing a flash of white.

  Then her eyes widened, as she realized what Rei’s first move had done.

  Bronzor was embedded in the stone.

  The Pokémon’s circular body was half-buried, pressed deep into a cracked wall, its metallic frame wedged tightly between jagged rock. Flickers of psychic energy sputtered uselessly from its edges, struggling to push free.

  With effort, it began to float out, stone crumbling around it, fragments clattering to the floor.

  Meanwhile, the little rabbit Pokémon landed lightly across the arena, her Quick Attack having carried her nearly the full distance. She pivoted smoothly on one foot, ears raised, stance sharp as ever, eyes locked on her opponent.

  Then she burst into white again, trying to reengage.

  But Byron had already seen the gap, how in her haste to escape its Confusion Rei had travelled a hair too far.

  “Rain down stone—don’t let it close!” he snapped, voice sharp as steel.

  Bronzor’s eyes flashed.

  A fresh pulse of psychic energy rippled across the battlefield. All around them, shattered rubble, fragments from Rei’s assault and Bronzor’s counter shuddered, then lifted into the air, trembling as they took on the pale violet glow of Confusion.

  Rei swerved as a stone flew past her, white light still flickering at her heels, then faded, her Quick Attack cancelled mid-stride as she took in the sight ahead.

  Bronzor hovered in place, silent and still. But around it, stones floated like a miniature meteor swarm, held in orbit by sheer force of will.

  “Target practice,” Myst called.

  Cynthia blinked at the command.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Rei didn’t.

  Without hesitation, she surged forward on her own two feet, posture low, movements sharp. Not as fast as a Quick Attack, but far less predictable.

  The rest of the rocks launched.

  They tore through the air like shrapnel, glowing with psychic light, arcing down toward her like falling stars. At first she was far enough that she could simply dodge, then—

  One rock came screaming straight for her face.

  Rei didn’t even slow down.

  One ear lit up orange, and Double Kick activated a split second before impact, slamming the rock out of the air with a sharp crack, shattered it against the dirt.

  Bronzor hummed as it saw Rei was still moving, not letting up the barrage. Clusters of four, five, more, guided by Bronzor’s Confusion, each wave struck at a different angle, a different speed.

  Rei didn’t falter.

  She ducked under one stone, then snapped her ear out to deflect another with the remaining part of Double Kick. Then, before the last two in the flurry could smash into her shoulders, a paw lashed up, Ice Punch crackling, smashing them both into powder.

  Rei became a blur of orange and blue, flowing perfectly from one cluster of rocks to another.

  Even so, she was slowing.

  The closer she came the less time she had between barrages.

  Her momentum coiled inward, every movement growing more deliberate, more precise. Dust rose around her in a haze. Rocks vanished into the storm of her rhythm. Each strike a punctuation mark in motion.

  Cynthia stared, eyes widening as realization hit.

  Rei was mimicking Leaf Defence.

  Mimicking it without Detect.

  It couldn’t have been intentional, but Rei had trained for this. Trained against Navi in this exact kind of scenario. Cynthia had seen it before, how Rei used that uncanny knack for switching between moves to defend against Navi’s Confusion… It was just that, when she’d seen it, Navi had slowly overwhelmed the bunny Pokémon.

  Apparently, she had gotten better.

  Rei cycled through Double Kick and the Elemental Punches with razor-sharp precision, knocking the rocks out of the air.

  Fighting. Fire. Ice. Thunder.

  Each move flowed into the next like water over stone.

  Almost seamless.

  It was a close thing, but the strikes weren’t overlapping. They were chained. Timed. The boost from each activation propelling the attack forward just enough to intercept.

  Even so, it shouldn’t be possible.

  Not without Detect. Sparring was one thing, but in a real match, where the opposing Pokémon was on the same level? There was no way she could track every projectile on reflex alone. No way to generate enough force while—

  “Ah,” Cynthia murmured aloud, the thought slipping out before she could stop it. “Because of Confusion.”

  Fighting one way indeed, she thought cooly.

  If this had been a true Rock-type move, Rock Slide for example, where the stones carried compressed type energy, it would’ve overwhelmed her. The power behind each rock, the lack of any guidance making every stone unpredictable, it would have been too much.

  But this wasn’t Rock Slide.

  This was Confusion.

  The stones weren’t flying under their own momentum. They were puppeted, suspended in midair by psychic force, guided, not hurled. Maybe if Bronzor was stronger, could do something else than send the rocks in a straight line, it could have stopped Rei…

  But Bronzor wasn’t, and Rei had figured that out immediately. She pressed forward; movement still locked into a perfect rhythm. Strike, step, strike. Never stopping.

  And for now, that was enough.

  In a stalemate like this, the moment Bronzor let up, even slightly, Rei would be on it, her next strike already cocked and ready to land.

  Cynthia glanced toward Byron.

  But—

  There was a reason she’d designed a Custom Move.

  Beside her, Johanna let out a breath. “What the hell? I guess you weren’t kidding when you said Rei would do fine. How is this a second badge fight?”

  Cynthia didn’t answer. Her gaze was locked back on the field.

  “Myst should stop this,” she said quietly.

  Johanna blinked, caught off guard. “Why? I mean, it’s working, isn’t it? She’s going to get in eventually, and Bronzor won’t have time to launch anything else.”

  Cynthia shook her head.

  “She’s burning too much Type energy,” she said. “And she’s slowing down. She’s not sustaining the moves, she’s reactivating them. Each punch, each kick, every time she shifts elements, it’s a fresh drain.”

  Her voice dropped lower.

  “Myst only has two Pokémon. And Rei’s the stronger one. He can’t afford to trade her for a single knockout. Even if this is part of his plan, making her keep this up… it’s not worth it in the long run.”

  Johanna was quiet for a long moment, then turned her head slightly, eyes drifting to the other end of the field. “Ah.”

  Cynthia followed her gaze.

  Myst was watching calmly. Not alarmed. Not calculating. Just standing there, tilted slightly, hands loose at his sides, a small smile playing on his lips.

  She frowned.

  He had to know this wasn’t good enough. That if he really wanted to win like this, it would take too muc—

  Myst’s voice rang out. “Break tempo.”

  Rei didn’t hesitate.

  As Bronzor gathered another wave of stones, preparing its next barrage through Confusion, Rei suddenly stopped her relentless advance.

  No Double Kick.

  No Punches.

  No defenses.

  Just one step forward—

  And then she bounced.

  Weightless. Effortless. She soared upward, a blur of brown and white, and under the widened eyes of the entire arena, she landed, clean, precise, on one of the floating stones.

  It held.

  And with that same coiled grace, Rei pushed off.

  She launched herself again, flying from one stone to the next, a blur of movement threading through Bronzor’s own attack. Each leap was tighter, faster, more precise. A dozen rocks hung in the air, once a threat, now a staircase.

  Bronzor, sensing the shift too late, dumped its remaining payload. The stones dropped erratically, followed by a wild pulse of psychic energy, Confusion, thrown wide in a desperate attempt to intercept her midair.

  It didn’t matter.

  Rei went from weightless to gravity-defying.

  One moment she was in the air—

  The next, she was clinging to the ceiling.

  Her claws scraped gently against the overhead stone as she steadied herself, poised like a shadow overhead. The blast surged beneath her, harmless.

  Then her legs coiled.

  Cynthia flicked her eyes down to Bronzor, but even so she barely tracked the blur of motion as Rei’s feet aligned, locked in above Bronzor’s face—

  And they both vanished in a blink.

  Bounce slammed downward with the force of a meteorite. Dust detonated outward in a rippling shockwave as they exploded into the ground with a roar that shook the stadium’s supports. The battlefield vanished in a rising cloud of debris.

  Then—

  BOOM.

  A sharp, metallic clang rang out through the arena, the sound of something slamming steel into stone.

  A second later the dust thinned, and their outlines began to emerge.

  At the center of the impact crater stood Rei, perched atop Bronzor’s fallen form. Her small frame rose and fell with every breath, ears alert, fur singed and steaming. Her fist, still glowing with residual heat, was buried in the Steel-type’s face.

  Cynthia let out a quiet sound of realization.

  That was it. That’s what they’d been aiming for.

  The first time Rei had landed a hit, Bronzor had been pinned against the wall, stunned, yes, but not vulnerable.

  Rei had no leverage, no good way to follow-up.

  It had been the same with Kael’s Bronzor. Levitate was a frustrating ability, so long as they were airborne, the impact of any blow could be softened, absorbed, dodged. Locking them down was nearly impossible.

  But now? Slammed flat into the arena floor?

  That was different.

  Rei raised another hand, then started to move like a machine, her limbs a blur, chaining strikes faster than the eye could follow. One Fire Punch landed, and before the red glow faded from her fist, the other was already lighting up.

  Fire Punch into Fire Punch into Fire Punch.

  Again. Again. Again.

  Each blow landed with a burst of heat, tiny shockwaves cracking the air, the heat shimmering around Rei’s fists as she pummeled Bronzor’s face like a piston.

  “Gyro Ball—get it off!” Byron’s voice rang out, sharp over the noise.

  Bronzor let out a low, metallic chime, like a bell in pain, and began to spin. Steel energy crackled around its body as it gathered momentum. Rei didn’t even flinch. She kept hammering away, fists blazing, even as the rotation began to deflect her strikes.

  Bronzor tilted, light building beneath its frame. Steel-type energy surged outward—

  And just as Rei reared back for another strike—

  She twisted.

  A sharp pivot, a sudden lean, then Bronzor rocketed skyward, bursting free in a spiraling flash.

  It missed by inches.

  Bronzor shot into the air, spinning like a drill, and slammed into the ceiling with a deafening crunch, its momentum drilling it deep into the rock overhead.

  Cynthia blinked, a sudden jolt of déjà vu hitting her like a slap. She glanced down at Rei, now crouched low, eyes narrowed, ears forward, still locked on the hole overhead.

  Honestly, if she had a Pokédollar for every time Rei had dodged a Gyro Ball and launched a Bronzor out of the fight, she’d have two Pokédollars. Not a lot… but weird that it had happened twice.

  Rei just waited.

  Flexed. Then waited again.

  Seconds passed.

  Nothing came out.

  Rei blinked.

  Then turned, glancing back at Myst, who had already turned toward Byron.

  “Is Bronzor coming back?” he asked.

  Byron kept his eyes on the ceiling. Then, after a beat, he tilted his head. “Eh. Not sure. Ref, how we ruling this?”

  Cynthia raised an eyebrow. She’d seen her fair share of Gym battles, but this had to be the first time she’d seen a Gym Leader ask the referee for a rules check mid-match.

  The loudspeakers, and the same slightly awkward referee, came back on.

  “Uh—let me see…”

  A few quiet chuckles rippled through the stands. Papers rustled faintly near the mic.

  After a moment, the voice returned, now more confident.

  “According to Gym regulations, if a Pokémon is immobilized by terrain for more than a minute and can’t return to the field, it’s considered fainted. So… about forty seconds left, I guess?”

  Johanna laughed, glancing sideways at Cynthia. “I guess that’s one way to win a battle.”

  Cynthia shook her head slightly, a wry smile tugging at her mouth. “Well… if nothing else, Rei gets a breather.” Her gaze flicked toward Byron, thoughtful. “But yeah. I guess he really isn’t used to training Pokémon like Bronzor.”

  She crossed her arms.

  “Bronzor could take a hit. Honestly, I thought it would go down way before it even got off Gyro Ball. But the way it fought?” She exhaled slowly. “You can tell Byron’s more used to blunt force. Confusion can work to throw debris, but not like that. Not as a pressure move. You need control, not just volume.”

  Johanna nodded along. “Yeah, just goes to show—when people specialize, they really specialize. You meet types like that in Contests too. Totally unbeatable in showcases, but completely lost in an actual battle.” She paused, then looked sideways. “Though… are you sure Rei isn’t intrested? That stunt with the rocks, chaining her attacks like that, if she did that on stage, the crowd would go wild.”

  The speakers crackled to life just then, cutting her off.

  “As Bronzor has not returned to the battlefield, it is considered fainted. Will the Gym Leader please release their second Pokémon?”

  Byron, still eyeing the ceiling, scratched his beard with a sigh.

  “Well… guess I’ll have to dig him out later. Don’t think a Poké Ball’s got the airtime for that.”

  He turned to Myst and gave a nod of respect.

  “Still, you surprised me. I’ll admit, Bronzor’s probably the weakest member of my third-badge squad, but you didn’t even give me a chance to push back.”

  He glanced down at his belt, then plucked a ball from its holster and let it expand in his palm.

  “But I can’t let you think I’m an easy mark.” He smirked. “So let’s up the ante. Hope you don’t mind.”

  He tossed the ball into the air.

  “Let’s show them what it means to be a Steel-type—Mawile!”

  The Poké Ball burst open in a flare of white, and Mawile landed with a cheerful cry, spinning lightly on one foot. She raised a dainty hand into the air like a performer bowing at the end of a show.

  Across the field, Rei made a sharp, disgusted sound in her throat. She raised one paw and dragged it toward her neck in a mock throat-slitting gesture, clearly unimpressed—

  But then Mawile turned her head.

  And Rei froze.

  Her body went rigid, like her muscles had locked for a breathless instant. Then, without meaning to, she stepped back, just half a pace, but enough to break her stance. Her eyes widened in confusion. Slowly, she looked down at her own feet, glaring at them like they’d betrayed her, moved without permission.

  Cynthia blinked.

  Wha—

  “Mawile has the ability Intimidate,” Myst said coolly, cutting through the tension. “Don’t be surprised by it.”

  Byron tipped his red helmet forward in acknowledgment. “Dead on. That means Hoenn, huh? Not a lot of folks from outside the region know what Mawile does just from seeing it.”

  Cynthia didn’t need to look to know Myst had rolled his eyes. Still, he didn’t get the chance to respond, as the referee’s voice buzzed back over the loudspeaker:

  “As both challengers are ready, may the battle begin!”

  Rei’s legs tensed immediately, coiled like springs. She looked ready to rush forward, but Myst’s voice cut in.

  “Catch your breath, Rei.”

  She froze. Her little nose wrinkled in protest, but she didn’t move. Instead, she stood in place, ears flicking once, breathing deep as Mawile turned her back and began gazing innocently up at the crowd, as if completely disinterested in the battle.

  Cynthia frowned.

  It was the right call, any second of rest was valuable after a drawn-out fight, but…

  Well. This was Rei.

  Sometimes the best move on paper wasn’t the best move for the Pokémon in front of you. Rei was a brawler through and through. She lived in motion, thrived on pressure. Standing still? It might actually hurt more than help. Whatever energy she regained in that moment of stillness not making up for falling out of the zone.

  “Huh,” Byron called, voice relaxed. “So you really are from Hoenn, huh? Most folks see her back turned and rush straight in.”

  Myst gave a lopsided grin. “I’m just surprised you’d go for that kind of trick. Thought Steel-type specialists were supposed to be… I don’t know, straightforward?”

  Byron barked a laugh. “Oh, I like that reputation! But hey, can’t give you too much time to recover now, can I? Mawile!”

  Mawile turned slowly, every motion deliberate. One dainty step toward Rei—

  Then she flashed white.

  In a blink, she was across the arena. The black, jaw-like appendage that had dangled behind her snapped forward like a spring-loaded trap—

  Clamp.

  Rei didn’t even have time to blink. Her body seized up, locking involuntarily as the jaws latched onto her arm.

  Fake Out.

  The paralyzing shock of the move rippled through her, and Mawile didn’t waste the chance. Her right arm lit up orange.

  Brick Break.

  The blow landed hard, cracking against Rei’s ribs with brutal precision. The little Buneary cried out, for the first time since the battle had begun.

  Cynthia’s hand clenched tight. Beside her, Johanna gasped aloud.

  That was going to hurt.

  With Rei’s arm trapped in Mawile’s massive jaws, she couldn’t roll with the blow, couldn’t redirect the force. The hit didn’t send her flying; it crushed into her. The energy piled into her ribs like a battering ram.

  Mawile didn’t stop.

  Another Brick Break formed instantly, her fist driving forward again—

  This time, Rei was ready.

  Her paw ignited, red-hot with energy in the blink of an eye, and the two attacks collided mid-air with a bang, sparks and flame bursting from the point of impact.

  Mawile grinned, her jaws tightening around Rei’s trapped arm.

  Then she simply did it again.

  Brick Break met Fire Punch, the blows collided mid-air again

  Another clash. Then another.

  Brick Break. Fire Punch. Brick Break. Fire Punch.

  Back and forth. Fists smashing with raw, explosive force. No dodging. No tricks. Just blow after blow, each attack neutralizing the other, neither Pokémon backing down.

  For a moment, it looked like they were evenly matched, but anyone watching knew it couldn’t last. Rei groaned, her breath hitching as Mawile’s jaw clamped down even harder. Her rhythm faltered.

  It was enough.

  Mawile powered through Rei’s Fire Punch with her next Brick Break, forcing Rei’s paw aside, then drove another clean strike straight into her side.

  Rei dropped to one knee, gasping, her body folding in around the pain.

  Johanna exhaled sharply beside Cynthia. “I guess it’s going to be—”

  “Charm!” Myst’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

  Rei, already crouched low, curled in on herself instantly. Her small frame trembled. Tears welled in her eyes as she raised her free arm over her head like a frightened child, shielding herself.

  Then her gaze locked on Mawile’s.

  And her eyes flashed pink.

  Mawile froze. Her arm, already mid-swing, wavered. The next Brick Break faltered.

  “Ignore it!” Byron shouted; a split second too late.

  The steel jaws loosened, just slightly.

  Rei’s “shielding” hand flared red-hot. Without hesitation, she twisted, driving the glowing fist directly into the jaw clamped around her.

  CRACK.

  A shriek tore from Mawile as the burning impact forced her jaws wide.

  Rei yanked her arm free, but didn’t retreat. She surged forward. In the same breath, her ear flared with Fighting-type energy. It lashed out, Double Kick slamming into Mawile’s face.

  Mawile’s head snapped back, feet skidding across the arena. Rei pivoted fluidly, a foot swinging low, winding up for another strike—

  But Mawile lunged.

  She slammed her body downward with brutal force, the massive steel jaws glowing with Steel-type energy, whipping around like the mane of a rock star mid-solo—

  And collided head-on with Rei’s foot.

  BOOM!

  The shockwave ripped across the gym floor, dust bursting from the point of impact. The stands trembled.

  Cynthia didn’t notice.

  Her eyes were locked on Rei as the little Buneary was hurled backwards, spinning through the air like a kicked doll. She landed hard on her back, bounced once, then smacked face-first into the ground, skidding across the floor in a limp tumble.

  Cynthia stared.

  Then slowly, her gaze drifted upward to Mawile.

  The Steel-type was swaying on the spot, one knee hitting the ground with a dull thunk. Even though it had won the clash, the blow to the head had left a mark, the shock still rippling through it like a ringing bell.

  Still…

  That was a very strong Pokemon.

  If Cynthia hadn’t already began to see it’s weakness, she wouldn’t have guessed this was supposed to be a third-badge-level opponent. Not when Rei could stand her ground against Kael’s Pokémon. After all, those had easily been at the level of the fifth badge, if not higher.

  But power wasn’t everything.

  Rei wasn’t built for raw strength. She was stronger than Ralts or Roselia, sure, but she wasn’t a natural physical powerhouse. Compared to Queenie, or even Riolu, she was strong enough to clash with them, but that was about it.

  And yet…

  Rei was terrifying.

  It wasn’t brute force that made her dangerous. It was her versatility. Her precision. The way she could manipulate her type energy, how fast she could activate her moves. Even among Cynthia’s team, no one came close to matching Rei’s technique in that department.

  There was a reason Riolu had kept losing to her, even though he was faster and stronger.

  Rei could activate two moves in the time he activated one. She could use Quick Attack to be functionally faster, even when she wasn’t normally.

  Power wasn’t everything.

  And you could see that in this fight.

  Mawile was a trick fighter. She wasn’t fast, but she hit like a hammer. If she caught you, really caught you, that was probably normally it. For most Pokémon, one mistake was the end of the match.

  And that kind of style?

  That kind of all or nothing way of fighting?

  That wasn’t something you saw in the first or second badge matches.

  Cynthia exhaled, and her focus snapped back as Mawile began to rise. She pushed off one knee, staggered upright, then—

  Ran.

  A full sprint, wild and reckless, straight toward Rei.

  Cynthia understood it intuitively.

  This moment would decide the fight.

  If Mawile reached her before she recovered, it was over. Catching her, starting that same kind of all out brawl, even Rei wouldn’t be able to win against a Steel type, not when she would be hammered with super effective blows.

  Five meters.

  Rei’s paw clenched, fingers digging into the dirt.

  Four meters.

  She pushed herself upright with a grunt.

  Three meters.

  Her head snapped up.

  Two meters.

  Eyes locked on the incoming blur of yellow and black.

  One meter.

  Mawile lunged, every muscle behind it, jaw-like appendage snapping forward—its surface cloaked in pulsing, oily darkness.

  Bite.

  Rei vanished in a streak of white light.

  Quick Attack.

  In an instant, she had blurred backward, Aura surging, slipping just beyond the snap of steel. Mawile’s Bite crashed into the earth where Rei had been, the sound of metal grinding against stone echoing through the gym.

  A heartbeat of silence.

  Then Rei skidded to a stop.

  She looked up.

  Mawile stared back at her, eyes wide, shimmering with unshed tears, pink light blooming behind them. Trying to use Rei's own trick against her.

  Charm.

  Rei smiled in response.

  Then she raised a single paw, and red Aura flared to life as Fire Punch ignited. Without warning, without hesitation, she dashed forward, her form streaking white again.

  The first hit struck clean across the ribs, and Mawile staggered sideways.

  A second clipped her shoulder before she could recover.

  Mawile snarled and twisted, her heavy steel jaw swinging down in retaliation.

  Too slow.

  Rei was already gone, a blur slipping past the strike, reappearing at Mawile’s other side. Another burst of flame, Fire Punch slammed into her again.

  Then she vanished once more.

  Cynthia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  A rhythm formed.

  Mawile snapped left, then right, tried to pivot into a spin, but Rei was already behind her, hammering into the cracks in her defense.

  Every step Mawile took to adapt, Rei was already a step ahead.

  The crowd had gone still.

  Even Byron wasn’t calling commands anymore. He just watched, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

  Rei darted in one last time.

  “Just try to sucker her!” Byron shouted.

  Mawile’s eyes snapped open. Her right hand surged with Dark-type energy—unstable, flickering.

  Not quite formed.

  Still, as Rei’s Fire Punch blazed toward her sternum, the energy snapped into place. Mawile’s hand vanished in a black blur and slammed into Rei’s face at the same moment Rei’s blow landed onto hers.

  Rei staggered back, ears drooping.

  Mawile?

  She just dropped.

  The little Steel-type hit the ground like a sack of rocks.

  Rei stayed standing.

  For a moment, everything was still and, Cynthia could swear she could hear Rei breathing, deep, ragged, steady.

  Then the crowd erupted. Not polite applause, but cheers, actual shouts of excitement. Even Johanna leapt to her feet, letting out a sharp whoop.

  Rei, smudged with dirt, fur ruffled, still panting—

  Raised one paw in the air.

  Victory.

  Cynthia watched it all quietly, heart still thudding in her chest. Then her eyes flicked toward Myst. He wasn’t cheering, wasn’t even grinning. He just stared at Rei, measuring, calculating. Rei glanced back, saw the look her trainers face, and glared. She opened her mouth; said something Cynthia couldn’t hear over the fading applause…

  Not that she needed to.

  The way Rei looked at Myst said it all.

  Don’t even think about subbing me out.

  Johanna leaned forward, grinning. “I know I’ve said it before, but this really doesn’t feel like a third-badge fight. I mean, sure, the power isn’t quite there, but the way Rei fights?” She shook her head. “I made it to six badges, and I never had my Pokémon use moves like that.”

  Cynthia glanced away from Myst, her smile softened slightly.

  “Well… Myst, for all he doesn’t think so, is really good at figuring out how to use type energy. I mean, yeah, Rei is plenty talented, but Myst has a knack for explaining it. He is probably even better than me when it comes to—"

  Johanna gasped, cutting her off. “What! Impossible! Who could be better than you?”

  Cynthia paused, then gave her a look. “I thought you were supposed to be mature?”

  Johanna smirked in response. “I mean, being mature is mostly about doing what you want—with confidence.” Then she paused, adding, “And, well, doing what you don’t want to do—with confidence.”

  Cynthia stared at her long enough that Johanna raised her hands in defense.

  “What? I am right!”

  Before Cynthia could respond to that, the speakers crackled.

  “Hello? Testing, testing, can people hear me—” the referee cut himself off. “Oh, I guess it’s working. Well, Mawile has fainted! May the Gym Leader please release his final Pokémon.”

  Byron shook his head slightly.

  “Honestly, we really need to do something about that piece of garbage. ‘Better viewing experience,’ my ass.”

  The crowd laughed. Byron paused mid-throw, sighed, then held up the Poké Ball.

  “Well, can everybody please ignore what I just said?”

  More laughter.

  He shrugged. “Guess it’s a good thing school is in session.”

  Then he turned back to Myst, grinning. “Well. I guess you’re about to sweep me… but you know what they say—most sweeps end in a counter-sweep.”

  Myst raised a lazy eyebrow, even as sweat ran down his face.

  “That’s the line you’re going with? I feel like you had a perfect set up with the school thing. Bit of a let down, after that whole entrance.”

  Byron blinked, then shrugged. “My wife loves theatrics; I’m not that good at them. You’ll run into the same problem one day.”

  Myst lifted a finger, about to object—

  Byron cut him off. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.” He gave a thumbs up. “I respect it, though. You’ve gotta use every advantage. I’d do the same.”

  Myst lifted both palms in a helpless what-can-you-do gesture.

  Byron just shook his head and raised the ball again. “Still, can’t have you sweeping me when I am using my third badge level team. Doesn’t look great, you know? Not good for optics. So let’s show ’em why they call me the Invincible Wall! Lairon, make 'em feel it!”

  A red beam burst out, and Lairon landed with a roar, metal plates gleaming.

  Rei squared her stance, locking eyes with the Iron Armor Pokémon.

  Cynthia frowned.

  A Lairon was probably the worst-case scenario. With Rei this tired, Cynthia honestly wasn’t sure she could break through its armor.

  And Navi?

  Cynthia bit her lip, staring onto the field.

  She had a feeling this would end up closer than she thought.

  The referee’s mic crackled to life, but before a word could leave his mouth—

  SLAM.

  The side door burst open so hard it bounced off the wall with a metallic clang.

  Cynthia spun, hand dropping straight to her belt.

  An older woman, graying hair tied back, face tight with worry, rushed in from the corridor, wearing the same kind of outfit Byron was. She didn’t stop at the edge of the stands. She ran past startled spectators, clambered to the front rail, and gripped it with both hands.

  “Byron! We need you! Half a dozen kids have gotten lost in the mines!”

  Her voice was hoarse, loud, and didn’t echo.

  Mostly because the gym had gone dead quiet.

  Cynthia stared at her, mind struggling to catch up. A second passed. Then another.

  Down in the arena, Byron’s expression shifted instantly. He looked to the stands, at the woman, then at the crowd. For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then he cleared his throat and stepped forward, voice firm but strained.

  “Sorry, but I’m going to have to pause the match. An emergency’s come up. I ask everyone to remain calm and—”

  A sharp exhale from somewhere in the crowd.

  Then a ripple.

  Then—

  Pandemonium.

  Chairs scraped.

  People stood.

  Voices rose in a wave of confusion as the crowd shifted and stirred.

  A moment ago they’d been spectators. Now they were rushing toward the woman in a worried tide, parents, grandparents, siblings calling out, trying to make sure their families were safe. Cynthia didn’t move. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she stayed still, eyes locked on the arena below.

  And, somehow, despite the fact he couldn’t possibly see her, Myst looked up and—

  Their eyes met.