Chapter 93: Empoleon On Duty!
The morning sun broke over Aethelburg in layers of gold and rose, spilling across the crystal towers and setting the floating bridges ablaze with light. The canals below caught the reflection and held it, turning the water into ribbons of molten amber.
Briv stood at the edge of the hostel rooftop, watching the city wake.
He'd been up for hours.
Sleep hadn't come easily. It rarely did these days. The League was four weeks away. Every moment mattered. Every second counted.
Prinplup's pokéball sat heavy in his palm.
He pressed his thumb against its surface and felt the familiar pulse of consciousness stirring within. The Water-type was awake. Waiting. Ready.
"Let's go," Briv murmured.
---
The training grounds were empty at this hour.
Briv had found them three weeks ago—an abandoned hydroelectric station on the eastern edge of the industrial district. The building was a skeleton of rusted steel and shattered glass, its turbines long silent, its control rooms stripped bare. But the reservoir behind it still held water. Deep. Cold. Perfect.
He'd claimed it as his own.
No one else came here.
---
He released Prinplup at the water's edge.
The Water-type emerged with a flash of light and a sharp, proud cry. Its deep blue plumage gleamed in the morning sun. Its white face was immaculate. Its yellow beak curved into something that might have been a smile.
It looked at Briv.
Briv looked back.
"You ready?"
Prinplup nodded.
"Then let's work."
---
They started with footwork.
Prinplup moved across the concrete platform at the reservoir's edge, its flippers cutting through the air in precise, controlled arcs. Briv called out commands—left, right, pivot, strike—and Prinplup responded instantly, its body flowing from one movement to the next without hesitation.
It was good.
It wasn't good enough.
"Faster," Briv said.
Prinplup moved faster.
"Sharper."
Prinplup sharpened its movements.
"Again."
They ran the drill a hundred times.
A thousand.
The sun climbed higher. The shadows shortened. Sweat beaded on Briv's forehead. Prinplup's breathing grew heavy.
Neither of them stopped.
---
They moved to the water.
Prinplup dove beneath the surface and disappeared. Briv counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Prinplup exploded upward.
A column of water erupted around it, spiraling into the sky. Prinplup rode the wave, its body twisting, its flippers extended. At the apex of its arc, it unleashed a volley of water pulses that struck the reservoir's surface in a perfect circle.
Briv watched.
He said nothing.
Prinplup landed on the platform and looked at him.
Briv shook his head.
"Again."
---
They worked on Aqua Jet.
Prinplup launched itself across the reservoir, its body encased in water, its speed blinding. It struck the far wall and rebounded, flipping mid-air, landing on the platform with barely a splash.
Briv timed it.
Four point two seconds.
"Again."
Four point one.
"Again."
Four point one.
"Again."
The sun reached its zenith. The air grew thick with heat. Prinplup's movements slowed. Its breathing grew ragged.
Briv called for another run.
Prinplup tried.
It couldn't.
It stumbled. Its legs buckled. It caught itself before it fell.
Briv walked over.
He knelt beside his Pokémon.
"Hey."
Prinplup looked at him.
Its eyes were tired. Frustrated. Ashamed.
"You're pushing yourself too hard."
Prinplup looked away.
"I know what you're thinking," Briv said. "You think you're not good enough. You think you're falling behind."
Prinplup didn't respond.
"You're wrong."
Prinplup looked at him.
"You're one of the strongest Pokémon I've ever trained. You're disciplined. You're precise. You're relentless. You've got everything you need to be great."
Prinplup's eyes flickered.
"But you're trying to prove something. And that's making you sloppy."
Prinplup looked away again.
"I know what that's like," Briv said. "I spent years trying to prove I was good enough. Trying to prove I belonged. And you know what I learned?"
Prinplup looked at him.
"It doesn't work. You can't prove anything to anyone else. You can only prove it to yourself."
He stood up.
"Take a break. Drink some water. Rest."
Prinplup hesitated.
"Go."
Prinplup walked to the reservoir's edge and drank.
Briv watched.
---
The afternoon passed.
They resumed training.
Briv didn't push as hard. He focused on technique instead of speed. Precision instead of power. He watched Prinplup's movements and corrected them with soft words instead of sharp commands.
Prinplup responded.
Its movements grew smoother. Its attacks grew sharper. Its confidence grew.
The sun began to descend.
They stopped.
Prinplup stood at the reservoir's edge, watching the light play across the water. Its breathing was even. Its body was relaxed. Its eyes were calm.
Briv sat beside it.
"Better," he said.
Prinplup nodded.
"One more drill. Then we're done."
Prinplup looked at him.
"You ready?"
Prinplup nodded.
---
They moved to the center of the platform.
Briv stood at one end. Prinplup stood at the other.
"Drill forty-seven," Briv said. "Aqua Jet into Metal Claw into Brine. Full sequence. Full power."
Prinplup nodded.
"Begin."
Prinplup launched itself.
Its body ignited with water. It tore across the platform, a blue blur, its target Briv's commanding hand.
It reached him in three seconds.
It pivoted.
Its flipper glowed with metallic energy.
It struck.
The air rang with the impact.
It pivoted again.
Its body ignited with brine.
It unleashed the attack.
Water exploded outward in a spiral of pressure and salt.
Briv watched.
The attack struck the platform.
The concrete cracked.
"Good," Briv said. "Again."
Prinplup ran the drill again.
And again.
And again.
It moved faster. Sharper. Stronger.
Briv called for another run.
Prinplup launched itself.
Something was different.
Briv felt it. Saw it. The way Prinplup moved through the air—it wasn't just fast. It was effortless. The way its body flowed from one attack to the next—it wasn't just precise. It was instinctive.
The way its eyes blazed—it wasn't just determined.
It was ready.
Prinplup struck the platform with its flipper.
The concrete shattered.
A column of water erupted around it.
A blinding light engulfed its body.
Briv's breath caught.
---
The light grew.
It expanded. Twisted. Shifted. Prinplup's silhouette dissolved within it, its form shifting, reshaping, evolving into something larger. Something stronger.
Something new.
The light intensified.
Briv shielded his eyes.
The light exploded.
And when it faded—
Empoleon stood in Prinplup's place.
---
Briv stared.
The Pokémon before him was magnificent. Its body stretched over six feet, its blue plumage deepening to a rich navy, its white chest gleaming like polished marble. Golden trident markings crowned its head, sharp and regal, catching the fading light. Its flippers had become wings—powerful, armored, tipped with blade-like edges. Its legs were thick and sturdy, its stance grounded. Its eyes burned with intelligence. With strength. With pride.
Empoleon looked at Briv.
Briv looked back.
"Holy shit," he breathed.
Empoleon inclined its head.
"You evolved."
Empoleon nodded.
"You actually evolved."
Empoleon let out a low, resonant cry that echoed across the reservoir.
Briv walked toward it.
He stopped in front of it.
He reached out and placed his hand on its shoulder.
Empoleon didn't flinch. Didn't pull away. It stood perfectly still, its eyes locked on Briv's.
"You did it," Briv said. "You actually did it."
Empoleon's eyes softened.
"You were always strong enough. You just needed to believe it."
Empoleon leaned into his touch.
Briv laughed.
It was a choked sound. Half sob. Half joy.
"We're going to win the League," he said. "You and me. We're going to win."
Empoleon straightened.
It raised its head.
It let out a cry that shook the reservoir.
Briv grinned.
"Let's see what you can do."
---
They trained until the sun disappeared.
Empoleon moved like water. Like steel. Like something ancient and unstoppable. Its Aqua Jet tore through the reservoir's surface, carving a trench that stretched a hundred feet. Its Metal Claw cut through the concrete platform like paper. Its Brine attack shattered the far wall into a thousand pieces.
It was faster than Prinplup. Stronger. Sharper.
It was everything Briv had hoped for.
And more.
---
They stopped when the stars appeared.
Empoleon stood at the reservoir's edge, its golden trident crown gleaming under the moonlight. Its breathing was calm. Even. At peace.
Briv sat nearby, his back against a shattered pillar, his eyes on the sky.
He'd done it.
He'd actually done it.
Prinplup had evolved.
Empoleon was here.
The League was four weeks away.
They were ready.
---
He recalled Empoleon and walked home.
The streets were quiet. The canals glowed. The crystal towers cast long shadows across the cobblestones.
He thought about the training.
About the evolution.
About Empoleon's eyes when it looked at him—trusting, loyal, proud.
He thought about the League.
About the trainers he'd face.
About his friends.
About Nicola.
He stopped walking.
Why did he think about Nicola?
He shook his head.
He kept walking.
---
The hostel was quiet when he arrived.
Patricia was in the common room, reading. She looked up when he walked in.
"Hey. How was training?"
Briv sat down beside her.
"Prinplup evolved."
Patricia's eyes widened.
"What?"
"It evolved. Into Empoleon."
She stared at him.
"Show me."
He released Empoleon.
The Water-Steel type materialized in the center of the room. Its body filled the space, its head nearly brushing the ceiling. Its golden crown gleamed under the dim light. Its eyes swept the room with calm authority.
Patricia's mouth fell open.
"Briv."
"Yeah."
"That's—"
"I know."
"It's—"
"I know."
She stood up and walked toward Empoleon.
She stopped in front of it.
She looked up at its face.
"You're beautiful," she whispered.
Empoleon inclined its head.
It let her touch its chest.
It was warm. Alive. Real.
Patricia turned to Briv.
"You did this."
"We did this."
She smiled.
It was the brightest smile he'd seen in weeks.
---
They sat together on the couch.
Empoleon stood nearby, its presence filling the room.
Patricia leaned against Briv.
"I'm proud of you," she said.
"I know."
"No. I mean it. I'm really proud of you."
He looked at her.
She looked back.
Something passed between them.
Something warm.
Something real.
---
Later that night, Briv sat on the rooftop.
The stars were bright. The wind was warm. The city hummed below.
Empoleon stood beside him.
Its eyes were on the sky.
"You know what's next?" Briv asked.
Empoleon looked at him.
"The League."
Empoleon nodded.
"We're going to win."
Empoleon nodded again.
"Okay," Briv said. "Just checking."
---
He went to bed.
He dreamed of water.
Of steel.
Of Empoleon's golden crown gleaming under stadium lights.
Of winning.
---
He woke at dawn.
The sun was rising over Aethelburg.
The city was waking up.
He was ready.
---
The morning was sharp and clear.
Briv found Nicola in the courtyard. She was sparring with Magnemite—nothing serious, just footwork drills and quick exchanges. The Electric-Steel type hovered and darted, its magnets crackling with controlled energy.
She saw him and stopped.
"Morning."
"Morning."
"How was training?"
"Prinplup evolved."
Nicola's expression flickered. Surprise. Then something else. Something that might have been respect.
"Show me."
He released Empoleon.
The Water-Steel type materialized in the courtyard. Its body gleamed under the morning sun. Its crown glittered. Its eyes swept the space with calm authority.
Nicola stared.
She walked around it. Slow. Careful. Her eyes traced every line of its form, every edge of its armor, every flicker of intelligence in its gaze.
"Holy shit," she breathed.
"I know."
"This is—"
"I know."
She stopped in front of it.
She looked up at its face.
"You're incredible," she said.
Empoleon inclined its head.
She turned to Briv.
"You actually did it."
"We did it."
She shook her head.
"No. You did it. You trained it. You pushed it. You believed in it."
She paused.
"You're going to be a problem at the League."
"I know."
She laughed.
It was a real laugh. Warm. Genuine.
"Good," she said. "I'd hate for it to be easy."
---
They trained together that day.
Briv and Nicola.
Empoleon against Magnemite. Empoleon against Shieldon. Empoleon against Snover.
They pushed each other.
They tested each other.
They learned.
---
At some point, they stopped.
They were both breathing hard. Both drenched in sweat. Both grinning.
"You're good," Nicola said.
"I know."
"I mean it. You're really good."
"I know."
She laughed.
"You're impossible."
"I know."
She looked at him.
He looked at her.
Something passed between them.
Something neither of them acknowledged.
---
They went back to training.
---
The day passed quickly.
The evening came.
They gathered on the rooftop.
Patricia. Dariana. Briv. Nicola.
They ate. They drank. They laughed.
They talked about the League.
About their hopes. Their fears. Their strategies.
At some point, Briv looked around at his friends and felt something settle in his chest.
He was ready.
They were all ready.
---
Later that night, Briv sat alone on the rooftop.
The stars were bright. The wind was warm. The city hummed below.
He thought about the training.
About the evolution.
About Empoleon's eyes when it looked at him—trusting, loyal, proud.
He thought about the League.
About the trainers he'd face.
About his friends.
About Nicola.
He stopped.
Why did he keep thinking about Nicola?
He shook his head.
He stood up.
He went to bed.
---
He dreamed of water.
Of steel.
Of Empoleon's golden crown gleaming under stadium lights.
Of winning.
---
He woke at dawn.
The sun was rising over Aethelburg.
The city was waking up.
He was ready.
=====
Briv found the underground arena by following the sound of cheering.
It wasn't the kind of cheering that came from stadiums or official League matches. This was raw, guttural, the kind that echoed off concrete walls and rusted steel beams. The kind that came from people who had something to prove.
He'd heard about this place from a trainer at the pokécenter. An abandoned warehouse in the industrial district where battles happened without rules, without cameras, without anyone keeping score except the fighters themselves.
Axel was already there when Briv arrived.
The older man leaned against a support beam near the entrance, his arms crossed, his green eyes tracking Briv's approach with quiet assessment. Rotom flickered above his shoulder, its orange body casting strange shadows across the walls.
"You heard about this place too," Axel said.
"Word gets around."
"It does."
Briv stopped beside him.
"Who's fighting?"
"Nobody yet." Axel gestured toward the center of the warehouse. "But there's a guy looking for a challenge. Been asking around all morning."
Briv followed his gaze.
The man stood alone in the middle of the makeshift arena. He was tall and broad-shouldered, maybe twenty-eight, with a shaved head and a thick beard that covered most of his face. His clothes were practical—dark cargo pants, a fitted black shirt, boots that had seen better days. His eyes were pale blue. Cold.
He noticed Briv watching.
"You're Briv Ambertone."
It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
"Last year's champion."
"That's right."
The man smiled.
It wasn't friendly.
"I've been hoping to run into you."
---
Axel stepped forward.
"I'll referee," he said.
Briv nodded.
The stranger shrugged.
"Fine by me."
Axel positioned himself at the center line.
"Standard rules. Three-on-three. No substitutions. No items. Victory by elimination."
He looked at Briv.
"Ready?"
Briv reached for his first ball.
"Ready."
Axel looked at the stranger.
"You?"
The man cracked his knuckles.
"Been ready for years."
Axel's expression didn't change.
"Then send out your first Pokémon."
---
The stranger moved first.
"Nidoking. Let's go."
The Poison-Ground type emerged with a thunderous roar.
Nidoking was massive, its purple hide thick and scarred from countless battles. Its horn gleamed under the dim warehouse lights. Its eyes burned with feral intelligence. Its tail lashed against the concrete, leaving deep gouges in its wake.
Briv studied it.
Poison-Ground. Heavy hitter. Probably knows Earthquake and Sludge Wave.
He reached for his first ball.
"Riolu. You're up."
---
Riolu emerged with a sharp cry.
The Fighting type landed on the concrete and immediately settled into a fighting stance. Its blue and black fur bristled. Its red eyes locked onto Nidoking with calm, unwavering focus. Its small body radiated determination.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
"Nidoking. Earthquake."
Nidoking raised its foot.
It slammed it down.
The ground rippled.
The concrete cracked.
Riolu stumbled.
It caught itself.
"Quick Attack," Briv said.
Riolu blurred.
It struck Nidoking's flank before the Poison type could react.
Nidoking grunted.
It didn't fall.
"Poison Jab," the stranger said.
Nidoking's fist ignited with purple venom.
It swung.
Riolu dodged.
It sidestepped.
It struck.
Force Palm.
The attack connected with Nidoking's ribs.
Nidoking roared.
It swung again.
Riolu dodged.
It struck again.
And again.
"Enough," the stranger said. "Sludge Wave."
Nidoking's body pulsed.
A wave of toxic sludge erupted outward.
Riolu couldn't dodge.
The attack struck its body and sent it flying.
Riolu crashed.
It skidded across the concrete.
It didn't get up.
"Riolu is unable to battle," Axel said. "Nidoking wins."
---
Briv recalled Riolu.
His jaw tightened.
"Good job," he murmured.
He clipped the ball to his belt.
He reached for his second.
"Empoleon. You're up."
---
Empoleon emerged with a cry that shook the warehouse.
The Water-Steel type materialized in a flash of light, its body gleaming like polished armor. Its golden trident crown caught the dim light and reflected it. Its eyes swept the arena with calm authority. Its flippers extended, blade-like edges catching the air.
The stranger's eyes widened.
"What the—"
"He evolved this morning," Briv said.
The stranger stared.
"Impressive."
"I know."
"Begin," Axel said.
---
"Nidoking. Earthquake."
Nidoking raised its foot.
"Aqua Jet," Briv said.
Empoleon launched itself.
Its body ignited with water.
It tore across the arena, a blue blur, and struck Nidoking's chest before the Poison type could complete its attack.
Nidoking staggered.
It didn't fall.
"Metal Claw," Briv said.
Empoleon's flipper gleamed.
It struck.
The attack carved through Nidoking's hide.
The Poison type roared.
"Sludge Wave," the stranger said.
Nidoking's body pulsed.
"Brine," Briv said.
Empoleon's body ignited.
It unleashed a torrent of saltwater.
The attacks collided.
Sludge and brine exploded outward in a spray of toxic steam.
Both Pokémon reeled.
Both stayed standing.
"Earthquake," the stranger said.
"Dodge," Briv said.
Empoleon leaped.
It cleared the shockwave.
It landed behind Nidoking.
"Metal Claw," Briv said.
Empoleon struck.
Nidoking roared.
"Poison Jab," the stranger said.
Nidoking swung.
Empoleon dodged.
It counterattacked.
Aqua Jet.
Nidoking reeled.
"Again," Briv said.
Empoleon attacked.
Again.
And again.
Nidoking's legs buckled.
It fell.
It didn't get up.
"Nidoking is unable to battle," Axel said. "Empoleon wins."
---
The stranger recalled his Pokémon.
His hands were steady.
"Not bad," he said. "But that was the warm-up."
He reached for his second ball.
"Venomoth. Let's go."
---
Venomoth emerged with a flutter of wings.
The Bug-Poison type was elegant and eerie, its violet wings covered in fine scales that shimmered under the warehouse lights. Its compound eyes gleamed with cold intelligence. Its body was lean and quick.
Briv studied it.
Bug-Poison. Fast. Special attacker. Probably knows Sleep Powder and Psychic.
He recalled Empoleon.
"Gible. You're up."
---
Gible emerged with an excited chirp.
The Dragon-Ground type landed on the concrete and immediately started bouncing on its heels. Its round blue body quivered with energy. Its red underbelly gleamed. Its eyes were wide and eager.
Briv smiled despite himself.
"Focus," he said.
Gible nodded.
It didn't stop bouncing.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
"Venomoth. Sleep Powder."
Venomoth's wings ignited.
A cloud of blue spores erupted across the arena.
"Gible. Dodge."
Gible didn't dodge.
It charged.
Its body ignited with draconic energy.
It lunged.
Dragon Rush.
The attack struck Venomoth's body and sent it spiraling.
The Bug type screeched.
"Sleep Powder," the stranger said.
Venomoth attacked.
Gible didn't dodge.
It charged.
Dragon Rush.
Venomoth reeled.
"Psychic," the stranger said.
Venomoth's eyes glowed.
A wave of psychic energy erupted outward.
Gible took the hit.
It stumbled.
It didn't fall.
"Bite," Briv said.
Gible lunged.
Its fangs ignited with dark energy.
It struck Venomoth's wing.
The Bug type screeched.
"Bug Buzz," the stranger said.
Venomoth's body pulsed.
A shockwave of sound erupted outward.
Gible reeled.
It staggered.
It didn't fall.
"Dragon Rush," Briv said.
Gible attacked.
Venomoth reeled.
"Again," Briv said.
Gible attacked.
Again.
And again.
Venomoth's wings faltered.
It crashed.
It didn't get up.
"Venomoth is unable to battle," Axel said. "Gible wins."
---
The stranger recalled his Pokémon.
His expression was unreadable.
"Two down," he said. "One to go."
He reached for his final ball.
"Persian. Let's finish this."
---
Persian emerged with a low, throaty growl.
The Normal type was sleek and deadly, its cream-colored fur gleaming under the warehouse lights. Its red gem pulsed with latent energy. Its claws extended. Its eyes burned with predatory focus.
Briv recalled Gible.
"Empoleon. You're up."
---
Empoleon emerged with a cry that echoed across the arena.
Its golden crown gleamed. Its eyes locked onto Persian with calm, calculating focus.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
"Persian. Power Gem."
Persian's gem ignited.
It unleashed a volley of crystalline energy.
"Aqua Jet," Briv said.
Empoleon launched itself.
It tore through the Power Gem attack and struck Persian's flank.
The Normal type screeched.
It reeled.
It didn't fall.
"Night Slash," the stranger said.
Persian's claws ignited with dark energy.
It lunged.
Empoleon dodged.
It counterattacked.
Metal Claw.
Persian reeled.
"Slash," the stranger said.
Persian attacked.
Empoleon took the hit.
It didn't fall.
"Brine," Briv said.
Empoleon's body ignited.
It unleashed a torrent of saltwater.
Persian couldn't dodge.
The attack struck its body and sent it crashing into the wall.
Persian slumped.
It didn't get up.
"Persian is unable to battle," Axel said. "Empoleon wins. The match goes to Briv Ambertone."
---
Silence.
Briv stood at the center of the arena.
His heart was pounding. His hands were steady. His breath came slow and even.
He'd won.
Empoleon stood beside him.
Its golden crown gleamed.
Its eyes were calm.
---
The stranger recalled Persian.
He walked across the arena.
He stopped in front of Briv.
"That was brutal."
Briv nodded.
"Thanks."
"You didn't let me breathe. Not once."
"That's the point."
The man studied him.
"You're going to be a problem at the League."
"I know."
He extended his hand.
Briv shook it.
"Good luck," the man said.
"I don't need luck."
The man laughed.
"Neither do I."
He turned and walked away.
---
Axel stepped forward.
"Match concluded," he said. "Briv Ambertone remains at thirteen challenges, ten wins, three losses. He is officially qualified for the League."
He looked at Briv.
"Congratulations."
Briv nodded.
"Thanks."
He recalled Empoleon and clipped the ball to his belt.
His hands were still steady.
He liked that.
---
He walked home alone.
The streets were quiet. The canals glowed. The crystal towers cast long shadows across the cobblestones.
He thought about the battle.
About Riolu's courage. Gible's ferocity. Empoleon's precision.
About the stranger's face when he realized he couldn't win.
About the League.
About the trainers he'd face.
About his friends.
About Nicola.
He stopped walking.
Why did he think about Nicola?
He shook his head.
He kept walking.
---
The hostel was quiet when he arrived.
Patricia was in the common room, reading. She looked up when he walked in.
"Hey. How was the battle?"
"I won."
"Obviously."
Briv sat down beside her.
"Empoleon was incredible."
"I bet."
"He took down Nidoking and Persian without breaking a sweat."
Patricia smiled.
"You're proud of him."
"I am."
She leaned against him.
"You should be."
He looked at her.
She looked back.
Something passed between them.
Something warm.
Something real.
---
Later that night, Briv sat on the rooftop.
The stars were bright. The wind was warm. The city hummed below.
Empoleon stood beside him.
Its eyes were on the sky.
"You know what's next?" Briv asked.
Empoleon looked at him.
"The League."
Empoleon nodded.
"We're going to win."
Empoleon nodded again.
"Okay," Briv said. "Just checking."
---
He went to bed.
He dreamed of water.
Of steel.
Of Empoleon's golden crown gleaming under stadium lights.
Of winning.
---
He woke at dawn.
The sun was rising over Aethelburg.
The city was waking up.
He was ready.
---
The morning was sharp and clear.
Briv found Nicola in the courtyard. She was sparring with Magnemite—nothing serious, just footwork drills and quick exchanges. The Electric-Steel type hovered and darted, its magnets crackling with controlled energy.
She saw him and stopped.
"Morning."
"Morning."
"How was the battle?"
"How did you know about the battle?"
"Patricia told me."
Briv nodded.
"I won."
"Obviously."
She smiled.
It was a small smile. Barely there. But it was real.
---
They trained together that day.
Briv and Nicola.
Empoleon against Magnemite. Empoleon against Shieldon. Empoleon against Snover.
They pushed each other.
They tested each other.
They learned.
---
At some point, they stopped.
They were both breathing hard. Both drenched in sweat. Both grinning.
"You're good," Nicola said.
"I know."
"I mean it. You're really good."
"I know."
She laughed.
"You're impossible."
"I know."
She looked at him.
He looked at her.
Something passed between them.
Something neither of them acknowledged.
---
They went back to training.
---
The day passed quickly.
The evening came.
They gathered on the rooftop.
Patricia. Dariana. Briv. Nicola.
They ate. They drank. They laughed.
They talked about the League.
About their hopes. Their fears. Their strategies.
At some point, Briv looked around at his friends and felt something settle in his chest.
He was ready.
They were all ready.
---
Later that night, Briv sat alone on the rooftop.
The stars were bright. The wind was warm. The city hummed below.
He thought about the battle.
About Riolu's courage. Gible's ferocity. Empoleon's precision.
He thought about the League.
About the trainers he'd face.
About his friends.
About Nicola.
He stopped.
Why did he keep thinking about Nicola?
He shook his head.
He stood up.
He went to bed.
---
He dreamed of lightning.
Of steel.
Of Empoleon's golden crown gleaming under stadium lights.
Of winning.
---
He woke at dawn.
The sun was rising over Aethelburg.
The city was waking up.
He was ready.
---
Patricia found him in the courtyard.
She was dressed for training, her hair pulled back, her pokéballs clipped to her belt. She looked determined. Focused.
"Morning," she said.
"Morning."
"I want to train with you today."
Briv raised an eyebrow.
"Just us?"
"Just us."
He nodded.
"Okay."
---
They trained in the reservoir behind the abandoned hydroelectric station.
Patricia released Lopunny. Briv released Empoleon.
They faced each other across the concrete platform.
"Ready?" Patricia asked.
"Ready."
---
Lopunny moved first.
It launched itself across the platform, its powerful legs propelling it forward like a bullet. Its ears extended, sharp and deadly. Its eyes burned with competitive fire.
Empoleon braced.
It didn't move.
Lopunny struck.
Its kick connected with Empoleon's chest.
Empoleon didn't flinch.
It didn't fall.
It grabbed Lopunny's leg.
It threw.
Lopunny crashed into the concrete.
It scrambled to its feet.
"Good," Patricia said. "Again."
---
They trained for hours.
Lopunny against Empoleon. Floatzel against Empoleon. Roselia against Empoleon. Magby against Empoleon. Gliscor against Empoleon. Cranidos against Empoleon.
Patricia pushed her team. Briv pushed his.
They tested each other.
They learned.
---
At some point, they stopped.
They were both breathing hard. Both drenched in sweat. Both grinning.
"You're good," Patricia said.
"I know."
"I mean it. You're really good."
"I know."
She laughed.
"You're impossible."
"I know."
She walked toward him.
She stopped in front of him.
She looked up at his face.
"I love you," she said.
He looked at her.
"I love you too."
She kissed him.
---
They walked home together.
The streets were quiet. The canals glowed. The crystal towers cast long shadows across the cobblestones.
They didn't talk.
They didn't need to.
---
The hostel was quiet when they arrived.
Dariana and Nicola were in the common room, playing cards. They looked up when Briv and Patricia walked in.
"How was training?" Dariana asked.
"Good," Patricia said.
"Just good?"
Patricia smiled.
"Really good."
Nicola studied her.
She said nothing.
---
Later that night, they gathered on the rooftop.
Patricia. Dariana. Briv. Nicola.
They ate. They drank. They laughed.
They talked about the League.
About their hopes. Their fears. Their strategies.
At some point, Briv looked around at his friends and felt something settle in his chest.
He was ready.
They were all ready.
---
The night deepened.
The city slept.
And in the darkness, Briv Ambertone made a decision.
He would win the League.
Again.
Or he would die trying.