Chapter 103: Samuel's First League Match
The platform lights caught the gold threads in Samuel's loose tunic as he took his position. His dreadlocks swayed against his shoulders. He rolled one ankle, then the other, like a dancer testing the floor before the music started.
Heather stood across from him with her arms crossed.
Her black hair fell straight past her shoulders, parted with surgical precision. Her eyes moved from Samuel to his feet to his hands to the Poké Balls clipped at his waist. Cataloguing. Calculating.
"You're the musician," she said.
"Something like that."
"Music won't help you here."
Samuel smiled. It was slow and warm and didn't reach anywhere near his eyes.
"It's helped me everywhere else."
The host's voice cut through their exchange.
"Second match! Samuel versus Heather! Trainers—ready your Pokémon!"
Samuel pulled his first ball from his belt. He didn't throw it immediately. He held it against his palm for a moment, feeling the faint warmth of the Pokémon inside.
Then he released.
Doduo materialized on the platform.
Both heads swiveled in opposite directions. One scanned the crowd. The other fixed on Heather. The long brown legs shifted, restless, ready.
Heather raised an eyebrow.
She threw her ball without ceremony.
Skarmory burst into being with a metallic screech that sent ripples through the arena's acoustics. Steel wings, honed to razor edges, caught the chandelier light and scattered it. The Pokémon's golden eyes locked onto Doduo.
The crowd gasped. The sound washed over the arena like a wave.
Briv leaned forward on the sideline. His knuckles were white where he gripped the railing.
"Skarmory," Patricia murmured beside him. "That's bad. Doduo can't—"
"I know."
"BEGIN!"
Heather moved first.
"Skarmory—Air Slash!"
Skarmory's wings snapped forward. Crescent blades of compressed air screamed across the platform.
Doduo's heads both tracked the attack. One said go left. The other said go right.
The bird froze for half a heartbeat.
The Air Slash caught its flank.
Doduo tumbled across the platform, both heads screeching in different pitches. It scrambled upright, feathers askew, one head glaring at the other.
Samuel's jaw tightened.
"Easy," he said, soft enough that only his Pokémon could hear. "Easy. Together now."
Heather didn't give them time.
"Again! Air Slash!"
Another volley. Skarmory's wings blurred.
This time Doduo moved as one. Both heads snapped to the same angle. The legs pushed. The bird launched sideways, talons scraping sparks from the platform, and the Air Slash carved empty air where it had stood.
"Good!" Samuel's voice carried a rhythm that hadn't been there before. "Now—Quick Attack!"
Doduo's legs blurred.
The bird became a streak of brown and cream, slamming into Skarmory's chest.
The impact rang like a bell struck with a hammer.
Skarmory slid back. Its talons gouged three deep lines into the platform. The golden eyes narrowed.
Heather's expression shifted—a fracture in the mask.
"Steel Wing."
Skarmory's wings ignited with metallic light. It dove.
Doduo tried to dodge. One head saw it coming. The other didn't.
Skarmory's wing caught the bird across the ribs.
Doduo flew—a ragdoll tumbling across the platform—and didn't get up.
"MATCH ONE—HEATHER WINS!"
The crowd erupted.
Samuel walked to Doduo and crouched beside it. He pressed two fingers to its feathered chest. Both heads were limp. Still breathing. Just knocked out.
"Rest," he said.
He recalled the bird and stood.
He didn't look at Heather.
He selected his second ball.
Probopass emerged with a low, resonant hum that vibrated through the platform and into the bones of everyone watching. Its massive red nose caught the light. The small floating units orbiting its body spun in tight, precise circles.
Heather's lips curled.
"Another Rock type. Predictable."
"Maybe," Samuel said. "Maybe not."
Heather recalled Skarmory and chose her next Pokémon with a flick of her wrist.
A burst of blue and white light.
Lapras formed on the platform—a massive, gentle-faced creature with a shell of deep blue and a song already humming in her throat. The crowd murmured. Lapras were rare. Lapras were powerful.
"BEGIN!"
Heather struck first.
"Lapras—Surf!"
Water erupted from nowhere and everywhere, a tidal wave that crashed across the platform. Probopass planted itself. The water hit its metallic body and split, spraying in two directions.
Probopass didn't move.
"Magnet Rise."
Samuel's voice was quiet. The command was simple.
Probopass rose from the platform. The small floating units pulled it upward, defying gravity.
Heather blinked.
"Lapras—Ice Beam!"
A lance of frozen light screamed toward Probopass.
"Discharge."
Blue-white electricity exploded outward from Probopass's body in a dome of crackling energy. The Ice Beam struck the electrical field and shattered into harmless crystals.
Lapras took the tail end of the Discharge.
She sang a single note of pain.
"Now! Thunderbolt."
Probopass's nose glowed red. The floating units spun faster. Lightning arced from its body in branching streams.
Lapras tried to dodge. Too slow on land.
The Thunderbolt hit.
Lapras slid backward, shell cracking against the platform edge. She steadied herself. She didn't fall.
Heather's composure cracked another fraction.
"Sing."
Lapras opened her mouth.
The song that came out was soft. Simple. A lullaby that wrapped around the arena like a blanket.
Probopass shuddered.
"Don't listen," Samuel said, but his voice was already slurring. The song pressed against his thoughts.
Probopass's eyes dimmed. The floating units slowed.
"Lapras—Hydro Pump!"
A focused blast of water slammed into Probopass's face.
It didn't dodge. It couldn't.
The hit sent Probopass spinning. Its metallic body clanged against the platform. It didn't rise.
"MATCH TWO—HEATHER WINS!"
The crowd roared.
On the sideline, Belle's hands were clasped in front of her. Nicoleta watched with an expression that could have been boredom or interest—impossible to tell.
Briv's grip on the railing tightened until the metal creaked.
Samuel recalled Probopass. His hands were steady. His breathing was calm.
He reached for his final Pokémon.
He held the ball for a long moment. Longer than he had with the others.
Then he threw it.
Hippopotas landed on the platform with a soft thud. The small, sandy-brown Pokémon blinked in the arena lights. Its rounded snout twitched. Its heavy jaw worked side to side.
The crowd laughed.
Heather didn't.
"Is that a joke?"
"No," Samuel said. "It's a lot of patience."
Heather recalled Lapras and selected her final Pokémon.
She threw the ball with a sharp, dismissive flick.
Pidgeot exploded into the air—a blur of cream and brown and razor-edged wings. The crest feathers on its head caught the light. It screeched once, a sound that cut through the arena like a blade.
"BEGIN!"
Heather didn't waste time.
"Pidgeot—Brave Bird!"
Pidgeot's body ignited with blue energy. It folded its wings and dove like a meteor.
Samuel didn't flinch.
"Hippopotas—Dig."
Hippopotas vanished into the platform.
Pidgeot struck the ground where the small Pokémon had been. Cracks spiderwebbed across the platform. Feathers scattered.
"Again! Brave Bird!"
Pidgeot rose and dove.
Nothing.
"Again!"
Again.
Nothing.
Heather's jaw tightened. "Wait. Just wait."
Pidgeot hovered, wings beating slow and steady, scanning the platform.
The ground exploded beneath it.
Hippopotas shot upward like a missile, headfirst, slamming into Pidgeot's belly.
The bird screeched.
Both Pokemon tumbled.
Pidgeot recovered first. It beat its wings and climbed. Hippopotas landed on the platform and shook sand from its hide.
"Sand Tomb."
Hippopotas's mouth opened. A vortex of sand erupted from its throat, spiraling across the platform.
Pidgeot climbed higher, trying to escape the swirling grit. The sand caught its wings. It slowed. It wobbled.
"Again! Brave Bird!"
Pidgeot dove anyway, fighting through the Sand Tomb, blue light blazing around its body.
It hit Hippopotas dead center.
The small Pokémon flew. It hit the ground and rolled. It didn't get up.
Heather smiled.
Then Hippopotas's hide rippled.
The Sand Tomb continued to swirl around the platform, feeding on itself. But beneath it, something was happening.
Hippopotas's body glowed.
White light blazed from its hide—brighter than the chandeliers, brighter than the platform lights.
The crowd fell silent.
The light grew. The small body swelled. The rounded jaw broadened. The stubby legs thickened. The sandy hide darkened to a deeper brown.
When the light faded, Hippowdon stood on the platform.
It was massive—a creature of muscle and grit and patience. Sand streamed from the vents along its sides. Its jaw was wide enough to bite through steel. Its eyes held the same calm.
It opened its mouth and roared.
The sound shook the arena.
Heather's smile died.
Samuel's shoulders straightened.
"Hippowdon," he said, and the name carried across the platform like a prayer answered. "Sand Stream."
The sand exploded outward. It filled the platform in seconds—a howling storm of grit and dust that blotted out the lights and turned the arena into a haze of brown and gold.
Pidgeot screeched. It couldn't see. It couldn't fly straight.
"Now—Earthquake."
Hippowdon slammed its massive feet into the platform.
The ground shook. It buckled. It cracked.
Pidgeot fell from the sky like a stone.
It hit the platform. It tried to rise. The Earthquake hit again.
Pidgeot collapsed.
It didn't rise.
"MATCH THREE—SAMUEL WINS!"
The crowd erupted—louder than any roar Briv had heard all night. The sand storm settled. The platform was a wreck. Hippowdon stood in the middle of it all, streams of sand still trailing from its vents, breathing slow and steady.
Samuel approached his Pokémon. He pressed a hand to Hippowdon's jaw. The enormous creature leaned into the touch.
"You waited," Samuel said, barely audible. "You waited long enough."
Heather recalled Pidgeot. Her hands were trembling. She didn't speak. She turned and walked off the platform without looking back.
Samuel recalled Hippowdon. He walked off the platform.
He passed Briv.
Their eyes met.
Samuel nodded once.
Briv nodded back.
"Third match! Nicoleta versus Blackfire! Trainers—ready your Pokémon!"
Nicoleta walked to the platform.
Blackfire walked to hers.
Samuel sat down beside Belle. He folded his hands.
"What?" she asked.
"I'm just tired," he said, and his voice was the same as it always was—slow and warm and impossible to read. "That's all."
Belle opened her book.
She didn't turn a page.
Nicoleta threw her first ball.
=====
Nicoleta threw her first ball.
The Pokémon that emerged did so without a sound. It materialized low to the platform, its body hunched, tendrils of shadow dripping from its form like oil. Dark eyes glowed from beneath a tattered mane. Spiritomb.
The crowd recoiled. Someone in the front row made a sound of disgust.
Blackfire studied the Pokémon with clinical interest. Her violet eyes narrowed. The corners of her mouth curved upward.
"A Spiritomb. How theatrical."
"I'm a theatrical person," Nicoleta said.
Her voice was flat. Unbothered. She hadn't looked at Blackfire once since stepping onto the platform.
Blackfire selected her first ball and threw it.
A flash of light. A Pokémon formed—tall, lithe, its body a deep indigo, with a long, whip-like tail and eyes that burned with cold intelligence. Mismagius.
The two Ghost types regarded each other across the platform. Neither moved.
"BEGIN!"
Blackfire struck first.
"Mismagius—Shadow Ball!"
The sphere of dark energy formed between Mismagius's spectral hands. It launched.
"Spiritomb—Sucker Punch."
Spiritomb moved before the Shadow Ball left Mismagius's grasp. The dark tendrils of its body extended like spears, crossing the distance in a blink.
The hit connected before Mismagius could react.
The Ghost type reeled backward, its form flickering.
"Again—Sucker Punch."
Another strike. Faster than the eye could track.
Mismagius tumbled across the platform.
"MATCH ONE—NICOLETA WINS!"
The crowd made a sound like a held breath released.
Blackfire recalled Mismagius without expression. She selected her next ball.
"Clever," she said. "But predictable."
"Nothing's predictable," Nicoleta replied. "That's the point."
Blackfire's second Pokémon emerged—a humanoid figure wreathed in purple flame, its eyes like burning coals, its hands cupped around a spectral fire. Chandelure.
The temperature around the platform dropped.
Nicoleta didn't flinch. She recalled Spiritomb and chose her next fighter.
A burst of light. A Pokémon appeared—small, blue, with a rounded body and eyes that held nothing but calm. Its segmented shell gleamed like polished glass. Porygon2.
Blackfire laughed.
"A computer program. Against fire."
"Watch," Nicoleta said.
"BEGIN!"
"Chandelure—Flamethrower!"
A torrent of purple fire roared across the platform.
"Porygon2—Conversion 2."
Porygon2's body glowed. Data streams rippled across its surface. When the fire hit, it splashed harmlessly across its form.
The flames died.
Chandelure's eyes widened.
"Now—Tri Attack."
Three beams of energy—fire, ice, lightning—converged in a spinning spiral. They struck Chandelure dead center.
The Ghost type screamed.
It didn't fall.
"Again—Flamethrower!"
"Conversion 2."
Another harmless splash.
"Tri Attack."
Another direct hit.
Chandelure wavered. Its flames guttered. But it held on.
"Shadow Ball."
The sphere formed and launched before Porygon2 could react. It connected with Porygon2's face.
The digital Pokémon spun backward.
It didn't fall.
"Recover."
Green light washed over Porygon2. Its wounds sealed. Its eyes sharpened.
"Tri Attack."
Chandelure took the hit.
This time it fell.
"MATCH TWO—NICOLETA WINS!"
The crowd erupted.
Blackfire recalled Chandelure and stood very still for a moment. When she turned back to Nicoleta, her expression had changed. The mocking tilt of her lips was gone.
"You're better than I expected."
"You expected a circus act," Nicoleta said. "You got a fight."
Blackfire selected her final ball. She held it for a long moment.
"I don't lose."
"Then you haven't met me."
Blackfire threw.
Her final Pokémon emerged—tall, armored, with a face like a stylized shield and eyes that glowed with psychic energy. Gothitelle.
Nicoleta recalled Porygon2 and selected her final ball.
A Pokémon formed—small, cunning, its body sleek and dark, with yellow markings along its flanks and a whip-like tail. Weavile. Its claws gleamed. Its eyes were sharp as broken glass.
"BEGIN!"
Blackfire moved first.
"Gothitelle—Psyshock!"
A wave of psychic energy blasted outward.
"Weavile—Night Slash."
Weavile didn't dodge. It lunged into the attack.
Dark energy wrapped around its claws. It sliced through the Psyshock like parchment.
Gothitelle's eyes widened.
"Again—Psyshock!"
"Shadow Claw."
Weavile's claws darkened. It struck.
Gothitelle took the hit.
It didn't move.
"Psychic."
A field of force wrapped around Weavile. It lifted the Pokémon into the air.
Nicoleta's jaw tightened.
"Weavile—Ice Punch."
Weavile's fist glowed with frozen energy. It punched downward.
The Psychic hold shattered.
Weavile dropped to the platform.
"Now—Night Slash."
Another strike.
Gothitelle staggered.
"Psyshock."
Weavile dodged.
Suddenly, on the other side of the arena, another platform lit up. The crowd's attention shifted.
"Fourth match! Egnar versus Bridgette! Trainers—ready your Pokémon!"
The two trainers took their positions. Egnar stood like a storm cloud. Bridgette stood like sunlight.
The duel was beginning.
And the duel between Nicoleta and Blackfire was still unfolding.
"Night Slash!"
Weavile struck.
Gothitelle fell.
"MATCH THREE—NICOLETA WINS!"
The crowd roared.
Team Nine had won the duel.
Three to zero.
Nicoleta recalled Weavile and walked off the platform. She passed Blackfire without looking at her.
Blackfire watched her go. Her expression was unreadable.
On the other platform, Bridgette and Egnar traded their first attacks. Beach sand and shattered stone flew. The crowd's attention split. Some watched the Ghost-type duel finish. Others turned to the fresh battle sparking across the arena.
But Briv's eyes were drawn to the stands.
A figure sat in the upper rows. Tall. Elegant. Black hair slicked back. Cold dark-blue eyes.
Niklaus.
He was watching Samuel.
Not the duels. Not the trainers on the platforms. Samuel.
Samuel looked up. Their eyes met.
Niklaus smiled.
It was the smile of someone who had already decided something.
Briv's hand found Patricia's.
"Something's wrong," he said.
She squeezed his fingers.
"I know. I feel it too."
The next duel raged on, but the shadows in the stands held steady.
Team Nine had won. But the night was far from over.
=====
The night was far from over.
The League rolled on.
Below the dueling platforms, the medical bay hummed with quiet activity. Nurse Joy moved between stretchers with practiced efficiency. Her pink hair was pinned back, her white uniform immaculate despite the hour. She pressed a cool cloth to Skarmory's wing joint. The steel bird lay still, eyes half-closed, its breathing shallow but steady.
"You'll fly again," she murmured. "Give it a week."
She moved to the next stretcher. Doduo. Both heads twitched in restless sleep. One beak opened and closed. The other made a soft, distressed sound.
Nurse Joy checked the bird's pulse. Strong.
She made a note on her tablet.
The door hissed open behind her.
"Third match just ended," Officer Jenny said from the doorway. Her teal ponytail was windswept. Her green eyes swept the bay. "Nicoleta won. Three to nothing."
Nurse Joy didn't look up. "And the fourth?"
"Still going. Egnar versus Bridgette." Jenny stepped inside. Her boots rang against the tile. "It's ugly."
"Ugly how?"
"Egnar's not holding back. Bridgette's tough, but..." Jenny shook her head. "He's fighting like he's got something to prove."
Nurse Joy made another note. "Or something to punish."
Jenny didn't answer.
Above them, through the bay's narrow windows, the screams of the crowd filtered down. Distant. Muffled. The sound of a Pokémon hitting a barrier hard.
Nurse Joy set down her tablet.
"Get more stretchers ready."
---
On the main platform, Egnar's Rhyperior slammed its fist into the ground. The Earthquake rippled outward in concentric rings. Bridgette's Quagsire took the hit, its soft body wobbling, but it held its ground. Mud squelched beneath its feet.
"Quagsire—Muddy Water."
A torrent of brown water erupted from Quagsire's mouth. It crashed into Rhyperior's chest.
Rhyperior didn't flinch.
"Rock Wrecker," Egnar said. His voice was gravel.
A boulder materialized in Rhyperior's hands. It launched.
Quagsire couldn't dodge. The boulder caught it square in the ribs. The Pokémon flew backward, hit the barrier, and slumped.
"MATCH ONE—EGNAR WINS!"
Bridgette recalled Quagsire. Her hands were steady. Her jaw was set.
She selected her next ball.
A Pokémon formed—sleek, blue, with a fin on its head and a confident gleam in its eyes. Floatzel.
Egnar recalled Rhyperior. He threw his next ball without ceremony.
A Pokémon emerged—massive, gray, with a face like a landslide and fists like wrecking balls. Golem.
"BEGIN!"
Bridgette moved first.
"Floatzel—Aqua Jet!"
Floatzel's body wrapped in water. It launched forward, a missile of blue and white.
Golem took the hit.
It didn't move.
"Rock Blast."
Golem's body glowed. Rocks materialized and fired in rapid succession.
Floatzel dodged the first two. The third clipped its tail. The fourth caught its shoulder.
Floatzel spun. It recovered. It kept moving.
"Again—Aqua Jet!"
Another strike. Another hit.
Golem grunted. It didn't fall.
"Earthquake."
The platform buckled.
Floatzel lost its footing. It tumbled.
"Rock Blast."
Another volley.
Floatzel couldn't dodge.
It fell.
"MATCH TWO—EGNAR WINS!"
The crowd's roar was deafening.
Bridgette recalled Floatzel. She looked at Egnar across the platform.
He stared back. No expression.
"Last one," she said.
"Make it count."
She selected her final ball. She held it for a moment.
Then she threw it.
A Pokémon emerged—large, blue-green, with a spiny shell and eyes that held ancient calm. Blastoise.
The crowd cheered.
Egnar recalled Golem and selected his final ball.
He threw it.
A Pokémon emerged—small, brown, with a hard shell and eyes that burned with fury. Shuckle.
The crowd laughed.
Bridgette didn't.
"BEGIN!"
"Blastoise—Hydro Pump!"
A torrent of water screamed across the platform.
"Shuckle—Withdraw."
Shuckle pulled into its shell.
The water hit.
The shell held.
Bridgette blinked.
"Again—Hydro Pump!"
Another torrent.
The shell still held.
"Now—Power Trick."
Shuckle's body glowed. Its defense swapped with its attack. The small Pokémon emerged from its shell, and its eyes burned brighter.
"Rock Slide."
Boulders materialized above Blastoise.
They fell.
Blastoise tried to dodge. Too slow.
The rocks buried it.
When the dust cleared, Blastoise was down.
"MATCH THREE—EGNAR WINS!"
The crowd erupted.
Team Ten had lost the duel. Three to zero.
Bridgette recalled Blastoise. She walked to Egnar.
"Good game."
Egnar nodded. He didn't speak.
He walked off the platform.
Bridgette watched him go.
---
The host's voice carried across the arena.
"Team Nine wins the matchup! Three to zero!"
The crowd cheered. Somewhere in the stands, someone was already chanting for the next draw.
Team Nine—Belle, Samuel, Nicoleta, Egnar—stood together on the sideline. They didn't celebrate. They didn't embrace. They just stood there, four strangers bound by a single victory.
Samuel was watching the stands.
Niklaus was still there.
Still watching.
Samuels' jaw tightened.
"Something wrong?" Belle asked.
He didn't answer.
The host's voice rang out again.
"The next draw! Teams Eleven and Twelve!"
The glass sphere descended. The crowd leaned forward.
The first capsule cracked.
"Chigusa!"
A woman stepped forward. Short pink hair. Athletic build. A confident stance that said she'd been fighting her whole life. She wore a simple training outfit, but the way she moved made it look like armor.
She took her place on the platform.
"The second member of Team Eleven..."
"Iris!"
Another woman walked forward. Purple hair tied high. Bright smile. Pink-and-white robes that flowed like water. She waved to the crowd with genuine warmth.
Iris.
Dragon trainer.
Briv had heard the name. Everyone had.
She stood beside Chigusa and crossed her arms.
"The third member of Team Eleven..."
"Alejandro!"
A tall man stepped forward. Tan skin. Long dark hair. Green eyes that scanned the crowd like he was taking inventory. An open shirt that showed off a muscular chest. Jewelry that caught the light.
He smiled.
It didn't reach his eyes.
"The fourth and final member of Team Eleven..."
"Patricia!"
Briv's heart stopped.
He turned.
Patricia was already walking forward. Her golden hair caught the chandelier light. Her blue eyes were fixed on the platform. Her jaw was set.
She didn't look at him.
She took her place beside Alejandro.
"The Team Eleven is complete! Chigusa, Iris, Alejandro, and Patricia!"
The crowd cheered.
Briv's hands were cold.
"The first member of Team Twelve..."
The capsule cracked.
"Darius!"
A lean, scarred man stepped forward. Tight braids. A wolfish grin. Eyes that had seen too much and enjoyed all of it.
He cracked his knuckles.
"The second member of Team Twelve..."
"Nurse Joy!"
The crowd murmured.
Nurse Joy walked forward. She had changed out of her medical uniform. She wore a simple white dress, but her presence was the same—calm, steady, unshakable.
She took her place.
"The third member of Team Twelve..."
"Misty!"
Briv's heart stopped again.
Misty walked forward. Orange ponytail. Cerulean eyes. A cropped yellow tank top and denim shorts that made her look like she'd just come from the beach.
She caught Briv's eye.
She winked.
"The fourth and final member of Team Twelve..."
"Sid!"
A man slouched forward. Thin. Greasy. Eyes that lingered too long on the women in the crowd. A smirk that made Briv's skin crawl.
Sid.
He took his place.
The fixtures appeared.
TEAM ELEVEN VS TEAM TWELVE
CHIGUSA VS DARIUS
IRIS VS NURSE JOY
ALEJANDRO VS MISTY
PATRICIA VS SID
Briv's stomach dropped.
Patricia versus Sid.
The man who had been watching her all night. The man who had been whispering to the other trainers during the last duel. The man whose smile made Briv want to break his jaw.
He looked at the platform.
Patricia was already looking back.
She didn't smile.
She didn't wave.
She just nodded once.
Briv nodded back.
"First match! Chigusa versus Darius! Trainers—ready your Pokémon!"
Chigusa walked to her platform. Darius walked to his.
The crowd settled. The lights shifted. The air thickened.
Briv moved closer to the barrier. His fingers found the railing.
The night was still young.
And Patricia's turn was coming.