Chapter 88: Luxray's In The House!
The industrial district of Aethelburg was a scar on the city's gleaming face.
Crystal towers gave way to rusted smokestacks. Floating bridges ended at cracked concrete platforms. The canals here ran dark and sluggish, choked with debris that no one bothered to clear. The air tasted like copper and old smoke.
Briv stood in the center of an abandoned rail yard, his breath fogging in the cold morning air. Rusted tracks stretched in every direction, disappearing into weeds and rubble. A collapsed water tower leaned against a warehouse wall like a drunk against a bar.
Luxio stood twenty feet away, its blue fur bristling, its yellow eyes fixed on Briv with an intensity that bordered on defiance.
"You ready?" Briv asked.
Luxio didn't answer. It didn't need to. The crackle of static along its spine said everything.
---
They'd been at this for three hours.
Briv had woken before dawn, slipped out of the cramped hostel room he shared with Patricia, and made his way to the rail yard. He'd left a note. Something simple. Training. Back by noon.
Patricia would understand. She always did.
Luxio had been restless since the battle with Harlan's Wartortle. The Electric-type had lost—cleanly, decisively—and it hadn't sat well. Luxio wasn't used to losing. It wasn't used to being outclassed.
Briv understood the feeling.
"Again," he said.
Luxio lunged.
---
The training was simple. Brutal. Repetitive.
Briv would call out an attack. Luxio would execute. Then they'd do it again. And again. And again.
Spark. Discharge. Thunder Fang. Charge. Quick Attack. Iron Tail.
Each move was drilled into Luxio's muscle memory until it became instinct. Until Luxio didn't need to think. Until its body moved before its mind caught up.
But it wasn't enough.
Briv could see it. Luxio could feel it. The gap between where they were and where they needed to be.
The League was a month away. Luxio was strong—faster than most Electric-types, sharper than most of its kind—but it wasn't enough. Not yet.
"Stop," Briv said.
Luxio skidded to a halt. Its chest heaved. Sweat matted its fur.
Briv walked over and knelt beside it.
"Something's wrong," he said.
Luxio looked away.
"Hey."
Briv reached out and tilted Luxio's chin up. The Electric-type's eyes were clouded with frustration. With doubt.
"You're holding back."
Luxio growled.
"I know you are. I can feel it."
---
The truth was simple.
Luxio was afraid.
Not of losing. Not of pain. Not of the League.
Luxio was afraid of itself.
It had felt something during the battle with Wartortle. A surge of power it hadn't expected. A depth of strength it hadn't known it possessed. And it had scared the shit out of the Electric-type.
Because power like that came with a price.
Control.
Luxio didn't trust itself to control it.
---
Briv sat down on a rusted rail.
"Remember when I caught you?"
Luxio's ears twitched.
"You were a Shinx. Small. Scrappy. Bit my hand so hard I thought I'd need stitches."
Luxio huffed.
"I didn't give up on you then. I'm not giving up on you now."
Briv pulled a pokéball from his belt. Luxio's pokéball. He turned it over in his hands, watching the light catch the red-and-white surface.
"You're not just my Pokémon," he said. "You're my partner. And partners don't hold back. Not with each other."
He looked at Luxio.
"So stop being a coward and show me what you've got."
---
Luxio's eyes flashed.
The insult landed exactly how Briv intended.
The Electric-type's fur bristled. Its claws dug into the concrete. A low growl rumbled in its chest.
"Good," Briv said. He stood. "Now. Again. Full power. No holding back."
Luxio didn't hesitate.
It lunged.
---
The air cracked.
Luxio's body ignited with electricity—not the controlled crackle of before, but something wilder. Something deeper. Blue lightning arced from its fur, scorching the concrete, shattering a nearby window.
Briv didn't flinch.
"Discharge!"
Luxio's body exploded.
The blast wave hit Briv like a physical force. He staggered back, his hair standing on end, his skin prickling with static. But he didn't look away.
Luxio stood in the center of a crater, its eyes blazing, its fur crackling with power.
"Good," Briv said. "Again."
---
They trained until noon.
Spark. Discharge. Thunder Fang. Charge. Quick Attack. Iron Tail.
Over and over. Each repetition faster than the last. Each attack stronger. Each movement more fluid.
Luxio stopped holding back.
And something began to shift.
---
It started small.
A flicker of light in Luxio's eyes. A subtle change in the way it moved. A deepening of the electricity that arced from its fur.
Briv noticed.
He didn't say anything. Didn't want to break the rhythm. Just kept calling out attacks, kept pushing, kept drilling.
Luxio responded.
Its attacks grew sharper. Its movements grew faster. Its electricity grew brighter, hotter, more intense.
The concrete beneath its paws began to crack.
---
Then Luxio stumbled.
It happened mid-attack—a Thunder Fang that should have connected but didn't. Luxio's body spasmed. Its legs buckled. It hit the ground hard.
Briv was at its side in seconds.
"Hey. Hey. Look at me."
Luxio's eyes were unfocused. Its breathing was ragged. Its body was trembling.
"Shit," Briv muttered. "Shit, shit, shit."
He checked Luxio's pulse. Fast. Too fast. The Electric-type's heart was racing like it was trying to escape its chest.
"Okay. Okay. I've got you."
He pulled Luxio's head into his lap and held it there. The Electric-type's fur was hot to the touch—burning hot, almost feverish.
"You're okay. You're fine. Just breathe."
Luxio whimpered.
---
Briv didn't know what was happening.
He'd seen Pokémon evolve before. He'd seen his own Pokémon evolve. It was usually gradual. A flash of light. A change in form. Painful, yes, but controlled.
This was different.
This was Luxio's body tearing itself apart from the inside.
"No," Briv whispered. "No, no, no, no, no."
He reached for Luxio's pokéball. If he recalled the Electric-type, maybe he could—
Luxio's paw shot out and grabbed his wrist.
Its grip was iron.
Its eyes were burning.
"Lux," it growled. "Lux. Io."
Briv stared at it.
"You want to keep going?"
Luxio's grip tightened.
"You're insane."
Luxio's eyes didn't waver.
Briv took a breath. Then another. Then he nodded.
"Okay. Okay, you stubborn son of a bitch. Let's do this."
---
He stood.
Luxio forced itself to its feet. Its body was shaking. Its fur was matted with sweat. Its eyes were wild with pain and determination.
"One more," Briv said. "One more, and we're done."
Luxio nodded.
"Charge."
Luxio's body ignited.
The electricity wasn't blue anymore. It was white. Pure. Blinding.
"Now. Discharge."
Luxio screamed.
---
The blast wave hit Briv like a freight train.
He was thrown backward, his body tumbling across the concrete, his ears ringing, his vision white. He hit a rusted rail and felt something crack—his ribs, maybe, or his pride.
He didn't care.
He forced himself up.
And he saw it.
---
Luxio was gone.
In its place stood something bigger. Something fiercer. Something magnificent.
Luxray.
The Electric-type was massive—easily twice Luxio's size. Its fur was dark blue and black, with a yellow star pattern across its chest and a long, flowing mane that crackled with electricity. Its eyes were sharp and golden, gleaming with intelligence and power.
It stood in the center of a crater, its body steaming, its breath coming in ragged gasps.
Then it turned.
And it looked at Briv.
---
Briv's heart stopped.
Luxray's gaze was different. Deeper. Older. It wasn't just looking at him. It was seeing him. Reading him. Understanding him in a way Luxio never had.
The Electric-type took a step forward.
Then another.
Then it was standing over Briv, its massive head lowered to his level, its breath warm against his face.
Briv reached up.
His hand touched Luxray's cheek.
The Electric-type closed its eyes.
"Hey, buddy," Briv whispered.
Luxray rumbled.
It was a sound Briv had never heard before—deep and resonant, like thunder rolling across a distant plain. It vibrated through his chest and settled somewhere in his bones.
"You did it."
Luxray opened its eyes.
It looked at Briv with something that might have been pride. Or gratitude. Or love.
Briv didn't know which. Didn't care.
"We did it."
=====
The word hung in the air between them, fragile and enormous.
Luxray pressed its forehead against Briv's chest, and the Electric-type's warmth bled through his jacket like sunlight through a cracked window. Briv wrapped his arms around Luxray's neck and held on. Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say.
The rail yard stretched around them, scarred and smoking. Blue lightning had scorched the concrete in spiraling patterns. A chain-link fence sagged where a stray Discharge had melted the metal. The water tower that had been leaning against the warehouse was now flat on the ground, its rusted legs folded like a dying insect.
Briv didn't remember knocking it over.
He pulled back and looked at Luxray. Really looked. The Electric-type's mane rippled with residual current. Its eyes—golden, piercing, impossibly calm—tracked Briv's face with an intelligence that hadn't been there before.
"You okay?" Briv asked.
Luxray answered by bumping its head against his shoulder hard enough to stagger him.
"I'll take that as a yes."
---
The walk back to the hostel took an hour.
Luxray drew stares. People stopped on street corners and pointed. A child tugged at his mother's sleeve and whispered something that made her pull him closer. Two League scouts in pristine white uniforms paused mid-conversation and watched Briv pass with naked interest.
Briv kept his head down.
Luxray didn't. The Electric-type walked with its head high, its mane crackling, its golden eyes scanning every face they passed. It had earned this. It knew it.
The hostel was a crumbling four-story building wedged between a laundromat and a pawn shop. Its sign flickered. Its steps creaked. Patricia was sitting on the front stoop with Lopunny beside her, a cup of coffee going cold in her hands.
She saw them coming.
She stood.
"Holy shit."
Briv stopped at the bottom of the steps.
"Yeah."
"That's—" She stared at Luxray. Luxray stared back. "That's Luxray."
"Yep."
"He evolved."
"Yep."
"Briv, that's—" She set her coffee down and crossed the distance between them in three quick strides. Her hands found his face. Her eyes searched his. "You look like you got hit by a truck."
"I feel like it."
She kissed him. Hard. Fast. The kind of kiss that said we'll talk later and I'm glad you're alive and I'm going to kill you for worrying me, all at once.
Luxray rumbled.
Patricia pulled back and looked at the Electric-type.
"Hey, you," she said softly.
Luxray bumped its head against her hand.
Patricia laughed. It was a real laugh, bright and surprised, the first one Briv had heard from her in days.
"You big beautiful bastard," she said.
---
They went inside.
The hostel lobby was empty—a good thing, since Luxray barely fit through the door. Briv guided the Electric-type up the narrow staircase, past peeling wallpaper and flickering lights, until they reached the room he shared with Patricia.
Luxray took up half the floor.
Patricia sat on the bed and watched Briv peel off his jacket. His ribs ached. His ears were still ringing. His hands were shaking, just a little, from adrenaline and exhaustion and something that felt dangerously close to joy.
"So," Patricia said. "What happened?"
Briv told her.
The training. The repetition. The moment Luxio had stopped holding back. The evolution—if you could call it that. The way Luxio's body had torn itself apart and rebuilt itself into something new.
Patricia listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she was quiet for a long moment.
"That's not normal," she said.
"I know."
"Evolutions don't happen like that. They're gradual. Controlled. What you're describing sounds like—"
"Like something else."
She nodded.
Briv sat on the bed beside her. Luxray watched them from the floor, its eyes half-closed, its mane still crackling faintly.
"He almost died," Briv said. "I could see it. Feel it. He was right on the edge, and he chose to push through anyway."
"Why?"
"Because I told him not to be a coward."
Patricia looked at him.
"That's a terrible reason."
"It worked."
"That's not the point."
Briv leaned back against the wall. His body was screaming. His mind was racing. But underneath all of it was something else—something quiet and steady and certain.
"He trusted me," he said. "Even when it hurt. Even when it scared him. He trusted me enough to keep going."
Patricia took his hand.
"That's what partners do."
---
A knock at the door.
Briv tensed. Luxray's eyes snapped open. Patricia's hand moved toward her belt.
"Relax," a familiar voice called through the door. "It's just me."
Samuel.
Briv exhaled and stood. He crossed the room and opened the door.
Samuel stood in the hallway with his dreadlocks pulled back and a wide grin on his face. Probopass floated behind him, its massive nose humming with magnetic energy. Doduo stood at his feet, both heads craning to see past Briv into the room.
"Holy shit," Samuel said.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Samuel pushed past him and stopped dead when he saw Luxray.
The two Pokémon stared at each other. Luxray's mane crackled. Probopass's nose rotated. Doduo's heads squawked in unison.
Then Luxray rumbled. Probopass hummed back. Doduo preened itself as if it had witnessed nothing interesting at all.
Samuel whistled.
"Bro. That's a Luxray."
"Thanks for the update."
"When did this happen?"
"This morning."
Samuel turned to look at him. His grin faded into something softer. Something that looked like pride.
"You're insane, you know that?"
"So I've been told."
---
Samuel dropped onto the edge of the bed. Patricia made room. Doduo hopped up beside him, its two heads immediately beginning to argue about which direction to face.
"So," Samuel said. "I've got news."
Briv's stomach tightened.
"What kind of news?"
"The kind that involves a battle."
Patricia leaned forward.
"With who?"
Samuel reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Briv.
Briv unfolded it.
A challenge notice. Official League format. The kind that counted.
Three-on-three. Standard rules. No items. No substitutions.
The challenger's name was Iris.
"I met her this morning," Samuel said. "Down by the canal. She was training her Dragonite. Just... flying it over the water. Doing loops and dives and shit."
He shook his head.
"I've never seen anything like it."
Briv handed the paper back.
"Dragonite?"
"Bagon, Gible, and Dragonite. She's got a full team of dragons."
Patricia's eyebrows rose.
"A Dragon-type specialist?"
"Yep. And she's good. Real good. I watched her for an hour and she didn't make a single mistake."
Samuel leaned back.
"She challenged me. I accepted."
---
Briv sat down on the windowsill.
"Samuel. You're at twelve wins. Three losses."
"I know."
"One more win and you qualify."
"I know."
"One more loss and you're out."
Samuel's grin returned. It was smaller this time. More fragile.
"I know."
Patricia looked at him.
"Are you sure about this?"
"No."
He laughed.
"Not even a little. But I've been running from this for weeks. Dodging challenges. Playing it safe. And you know what that's gotten me?"
He gestured at the folded paper.
"An opponent I can't avoid. A match I can't dodge."
He stood.
"I'm done running."
---
They gathered in a vacant lot on the city's eastern edge.
It had once been a park—you could still see the bones of it beneath the weeds. Cracked benches. Rusted swing sets. A fountain that had long since stopped flowing. The League had requisitioned it weeks ago and cleared the debris, leaving a flat, open space that was perfect for a battle.
Axel was already there.
He stood at the center of the lot with his arms crossed and his Rotom floating beside him. The Electric-ghost was in its base form, flickering orange, its red eyes scanning the field.
"About time," he said.
Samuel shrugged.
"Traffic."
Iris stood on the far side of the lot.
She was younger than Briv had expected—maybe nineteen, maybe twenty. Her hair was a wild mane of purple tied back with a white ribbon. Her clothes were pink and white, flowing, designed for movement. Her smile was bright and easy.
Her Dragonite stood behind her.
The Dragon-type was enormous. Ten feet tall, maybe more. Its body was golden and sleek, its wings folded against its back, its eyes calm and knowing. It looked like it could level a building without breaking a sweat.
"Nervous?" Iris called.
Samuel laughed.
"Terrified."
"Good. That means you're smart."
---
Axel raised his hand.
"Standard rules," he announced. "Three Pokémon each. No substitutions except by knockout. No items. No outside interference. Victory by elimination of all opposing Pokémon. Are both trainers ready?"
Iris nodded.
Samuel nodded.
"Then send out your first Pokémon."
---
Iris moved first.
"Bagon. Let's go."
The Dragon-type emerged with a roar.
Bagon was small but sturdy, its blue body covered in a thick, armored hide. Its head was disproportionately large, hard as stone, built for ramming. It looked at Samuel with eager, reckless eyes.
Samuel studied it for a moment.
"Doduo," he said. "You're up."
Doduo burst from its ball with a double squawk.
The two-headed Pokémon landed on the packed earth, its long legs already twitching with barely contained energy. Its two heads scanned Bagon from different angles, each one independent, each one calculating.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Iris moved first.
"Bagon. Headbutt."
Bagon lowered its skull.
It charged.
Doduo didn't dodge.
"Quick Attack," Samuel said.
Doduo blurred forward.
The two Pokémon collided in the center of the field.
Bagon's head caught Doduo's chest. Doduo's beak caught Bagon's shoulder. Both of them staggered.
"Fury Attack," Samuel said.
Doduo launched itself forward.
Its beaks struck Bagon again and again and again—a relentless barrage of jabs aimed at the Dragon-type's unprotected flanks.
Bagon roared.
"Scary Face," Iris said.
Bagon's eyes flashed.
Doduo faltered.
Its movements slowed. Its heads twitched nervously. It wasn't afraid—Doduo was never afraid—but it was unsettled.
"Shake it off," Samuel said. "Peck!"
Doduo lunged.
Bagon met it head-on.
Another collision. More sparks. More violence.
"Bagon. Dragon Breath."
Bagon opened its mouth.
A stream of purple energy erupted from its throat.
Doduo tried to dodge. Too slow. The attack caught its side and sent it tumbling across the dirt.
"Get up," Samuel said.
Doduo scrambled to its feet.
It was hurt. Its feathers were singed. Its breathing was ragged. But it was still standing.
"Quick Attack!"
Doduo blurred forward.
"Headbutt!"
Bagon met the charge.
The two Pokémon collided again.
This time, Doduo was faster. It twisted mid-lunge, dodging Bagon's skull by inches, and slammed both beaks into the Dragon-type's ribs.
Bagon gasped.
It stumbled.
It fell.
"Bagon is unable to battle," Axel said. "Doduo wins."
---
Iris recalled her Pokémon.
She didn't look upset. If anything, she looked impressed.
"Your Doduo is fast," she said.
"He's faster than he looks."
"I'll remember that."
She reached for her second pokéball.
"Gible. Let's go."
---
Gible emerged with a shriek.
The tiny Dragon-type was smaller than Bagon—barely two feet tall—but it radiated an aggression that made Doduo take a step back. Its mouth was enormous, its teeth were sharp, and its eyes burned with a hunger that bordered on madness.
Samuel studied it.
Doduo was exhausted. The fight with Bagon had taken a toll. Using it against Gible would be risky.
He made the call.
"Doduo, return."
He recalled the Normal-type.
"Hippopotas. You're up."
---
Hippopotas emerged with a yawn.
The Ground-type was stocky and calm, its sandy body dotted with dark markings, its eyes half-closed. It looked like it had just woken up from a nap.
Gible didn't care.
It charged immediately.
"Gible! Dragon Rush!"
Gible's body ignited with draconic energy.
It slammed into Hippopotas like a cannonball.
Hippopotas grunted.
It skidded backward, its claws digging furrows in the dirt, but it didn't fall.
"Sand Tomb," Samuel said.
Hippopotas opened its mouth.
A whirlwind of sand erupted from its throat, surrounding Gible in a spiraling vortex. The Dragon-type howled as the sand ground against its scales.
"Dig out," Iris said.
Gible burrowed.
It vanished into the earth.
"Earthquake," Samuel said.
Hippopotas slammed its foot down.
The ground shook.
Gible erupted from the dirt, its body convulsing with shock.
"Now! Bite!"
Hippopotas lunged.
Its jaws closed around Gible's tail.
The Dragon-type shrieked.
It twisted. It clawed. It bit back.
The two Pokémon rolled across the dirt, a tangle of fury and teeth. Hippopotas was slower, but its hide was thick and its grip was unbreakable.
Gible was faster, but it couldn't break free.
"Gible! Dragon Rage!"
Gible's mouth glowed.
It fired point-blank.
The blast struck Hippopotas in the face.
The Ground-type staggered.
Its grip loosened.
Gible pulled free.
"Sand Tomb!"
"Twister!"
The attacks collided.
Sand and wind exploded across the field.
When the dust cleared, both Pokémon were standing. Both were hurt. Both were breathing hard.
"Finish it," Samuel said. "Body Slam!"
Hippopotas launched itself forward.
Gible tried to dodge.
It was too slow.
Hippopotas crashed into it with the force of a falling mountain.
Gible didn't get up.
"Gible is unable to battle," Axel said. "Hippopotas wins."
---
Iris recalled her Pokémon.
She smiled.
"Two down," she said. "One to go."
"Heads up," Axel said.
Samuel nodded.
He recalled Hippopotas and reached for his final pokéball.
"Probopass. You're up."
---
Probopass floated onto the field.
The Rock-Steel type was massive—easily the largest Pokémon Samuel had ever trained. Its body was dark blue, its nose was a glowing red magnet, and its mustache of iron filings bristled with latent energy. Its three mini-noses orbited it slowly, their eyes scanning the battlefield.
Iris's eyes widened.
"That's a big one."
"He's got a big heart."
"Does he?"
"Not really. But he's tough."
Iris laughed.
Then she reached for her final pokéball.
"Dragonite. Let's finish this."
---
Dragonite landed on the field with a ground-shaking thud.
The Dragon-type was even bigger up close. Its golden scales gleamed in the afternoon light. Its wings stretched wide, casting a shadow over Probopass. Its eyes—calm, ancient, knowing—fixed on the Rock-type with quiet confidence.
Probopass hummed.
Dragonite rumbled.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Iris moved first.
"Dragonite. Hurricane."
Dragonite's wings snapped open.
A cyclone of wind erupted across the field—raw, violent, unrelenting. Probopass was lifted off the ground and slammed into a rusted swing set.
Metal shrieked. Sparks flew.
"Probopass! Thunder Wave!"
Probopass's body crackled.
A wave of electricity arced toward Dragonite.
The Dragon-type didn't dodge.
It didn't need to.
The Thunder Wave struck its chest and dissipated harmlessly.
"Thunder Punch," Iris said.
Dragonite's fist ignited with lightning.
It slammed into Probopass's side.
The Rock-type flew.
It hit a concrete bench and shattered it.
"Get up," Samuel said.
Probopass rose.
Its body was dented. Its mini-noses flickered. But it was still floating.
"Flash Cannon!"
Probopass's nose glowed.
A beam of silver energy shot forward.
Dragonite sidestepped.
"You're going to have to do better than that," Iris said.
"Power Gem!"
Probopass's body sparkled.
A barrage of gem-like projectiles erupted from its core.
Dragonite dodged some. Took others. The ones that connected left shallow cuts across its scales.
"Outrage," Iris said.
Dragonite's eyes flashed red.
It charged.
It hit Probopass like a meteor.
The Rock-type was thrown across the field. It crashed through a fence. It landed in a heap of twisted metal and shattered concrete.
"Probopass!" Samuel shouted.
The Rock-type didn't move.
"Probopass is unable to battle," Axel said. "Dragonite wins. The victory goes to Iris."
---
Silence.
Samuel stood frozen, his hand still raised, his mouth still open.
Probopass lay in the wreckage, unconscious, its magnetic field fading. Doduo and Hippopotas were both down. His entire team had been swept.
He'd lost.
---
Iris walked across the field.
She stopped in front of Samuel and extended her hand.
"That was incredible," she said.
Samuel looked at her hand.
Then at her face.
"You beat me."
"I did."
"You beat me three to one."
"I did."
Samuel let out a breath. It was shaky. Ragged. The breath of a man who'd just watched his future crumble.
He shook her hand.
"Good fight."
"Good fight."
She held his grip for a moment longer.
"You're better than you think," she said. "Your Probopass is a monster. Your Hippopotas is a wall. And your Doduo..." She smiled. "Your Doduo is a nightmare to pin down."
Samuel nodded.
"Thanks."
"One more win," she said. "That's all you need."
"I know."
"You'll get it."
She let go and walked back toward her Dragonite.
---
Axel stepped forward.
"Match concluded," he said. "Iris wins. Samuel moves to twelve wins and four losses."
He looked at Samuel.
"One win away from the League."
Samuel didn't answer.
He recalled Probopass and clipped the ball to his belt. His hands were steady. His face was blank.
Briv crossed the field.
"Hey."
Samuel looked at him.
"You okay?"
"No."
Briv put a hand on his shoulder.
"You want to talk about it?"
Samuel shook his head.
"Not yet."
He turned and walked toward the edge of the lot. Doduo and Hippopotas followed, their heads low, their steps slow. Probopass drifted behind them, its nose still glowing faintly, its eyes fixed on the ground.
Patricia watched him go.
"He's not okay," she said.
"I know."
"What do we do?"
Briv watched Samuel disappear around a corner.
"We give him space," he said. "And when he's ready, we help him train."
He looked at Axel.
"Next match is crucial."
Axel nodded.
"I know."
---
They left the lot.
The sun was setting over Aethelburg, painting the crystal towers in shades of gold and crimson. The canals glowed. The bridges hummed. The city was beautiful.
Samuel didn't see any of it.
He walked alone, his Pokémon trailing behind him, his mind already racing toward the next battle.
One win.
One loss.
Everything to prove.
He didn't intend to lose either.