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Route 4 - Parterre Way

Fletchinder drifted across the sky, each flap of her wings more difficult than the last. She was exhausted. Her trainer had abandoned her in the midst of crisis; sent to save one man, she had instead saved a hundred. Everywhere she turned, another human needed help. They had to be grabbed and flown to safety, to escape a swarm of rampaging pokémon, to dodge a falling building as it crumbled, spewing steel and concrete. She fought hard, earned her scars, ones that still pricked and stung where they'd been badly healed by Potion sprays from grateful, but frantic, trainers.

It had been a long, hard fight. And when it was over, Fletchinder found herself alone. But with no trainer, there was no obligation. She could return home after being torn away. She could see her family, her children, once more. She could-

Fletchinder dissolved into a red scatter of light, which slipped back into her pokéball. 'Finally,' Zack said, putting the ball back to his belt. 'Sorry about that.'

Charmander gasped hard, one eye forced shut in pain. The flattened grass had been equally drenched and burned, both from Zack's attacks and Charmander's Ember. The trainer aimed his Clauncher, then fired a sharp stream of water, but Charmander sidestepped, allowing it to slip past just an inch from his chest, never taking his good eye from the trainer. He didn't move after that, except to pant for breath.

'Good,' Zack said, latching Clauncher to his belt. 'I'd say you have the basics down. Go take a break.'

At this, Charmander stayed where he was, eyeing his trainer distrustfully. Zack frowned, but said nothing, staring it out. Eventually, Charmander's pain got the better of him. He winced, body hard and tense, sore from the harsh training. The fire type sat down, ready to move if another attack came his way. Zack sighed. 'What? You're a pokémon. Better get used to people wanting to hurt you, cause your life's gonna be full of it.'

When Charmander stayed silent, Zack sighed again, rubbing his head. 'Alright, here.'

Zack pulled a nutrient bar from his pocket and tossed it at Charmander's feet. The fire type's nostrils twitched, but it couldn't pick up a scent. 'I swiped it from the lab,' Zack said, making Charmander jump. 'Better dispose of the evidence before they call the cops. They'll throw away the key for a berry bar.'

Charmander grumbled to himself. He tried to ignore the bar, but his stomach soon betrayed him, growling like a caged beast. Zack grinned, chest shaking as he held back a laugh, and Charmander stuck out his bottom lip. The pokémon picked up the snack, ripped off the packaging, then sniffed fire from his nose before chowing down.

((For the sake of your sanity, please remember to blink.))

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Bottom Of The River

Thought much research on the topic existed, modern science could not yet explain what a Pokémon experienced inside a Pokéball. On the outside of the Pokéball, their physical forms could be seen through the opaque lens if set on clear viewing, like living action figures. But this was just a representation of a Pokémon’s perception of themselves. Outside of this, it remained uncertain.*

Banksy peered at the riverbed outside the Pokéball, grumpy as over. Few Water Pokémon lived in the river, instead occupying the coast just downstream. The Pokéball was stuck between a few stones, with the safety off. Banksy could release herself if she chose to. The Fire type wasn’t too keen on the idea. The moment she was submerged, water would seep into her shell, and eventually it would burn out her coals. No burning, no fire. No fire, no smoke.

What kind of way is this to wake up from a nap?...the brat must really be in trouble, if she dared to ask ME for help. Hmph. I’ll make good on my word, then. This can’t be that hard.

She recalled a situation not too different from this one, at a later point during her travels with Moze across Kalos. Through a series of unfortunate events, the two of them had been chased by a swarm of Beedrill. Banksy had been worse for wear from a previous fight, and Moze had also seen better days. It had whittled down to just the two of them, at that point. If the swarm had caught up, there would’ve been no way out alive.

But Moze had seen their escape in the form of a nearby lake, and told her to dive in to throw them off. Though the swarm drew closer, Banksy recalled her fear. The coldness of water, the darkness of drowning. Terrifying unknowns in an aquatic abyss. She recalled Moze leaning to her ear and telling her, “If you don’t confront your fear, we’re going to die.” And suddenly, the lake didn’t seem so bad.

The memory settled in the back of Banksy’s mind. We still haven’t given up on you, Moze.

In a bundle of red light, Banksy emerged, feet planted firmly on the riverbed. This was the second time she had been fully submerged. It was worse than being in the rain. At least in the rain she could breath. The Torkoal grabbed her Pokéball in her mouth. Already she felt the water flooding her shell, sapping her energy away. There were very few Fire types that could claim to be even remotely comfortable in water, and Banksy was not one of them. I’m getting too old for this crap.

Below her, the ground swelled up, like someone poking their finger into a sheet of plastic. The swelling ruptured forcefully, Earth Power propelling Banksy upwards. The tortoise tucked into her shell as she broke the surface and popped into the air.

In midair, she utilized Rapid Spin. Splashes of water were flung out from within her, airdrying the shell. Still, the coals were damp. Without a spark to light the fire, she’d drop back under. Banksy closed her eyes, willing her energy to light that fire. C’mon, c’mon.

A whoosh of White Smoke billowed weakly out the holes of her shell. Instinctively she transformed it into a jet, flying at the closest side of the riverbank. The jet sputtered on and off, gliding her dangerously low towards the river, until she crash landed on the sand. Stretching her limbs and head out onto the riverbank, Banksy lolled out her tongue and panted.

The brat might be right. I AM getting rusty.

(*Though there are theories.)

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Mystery Pillars

The Stantler was relentless in her pursuit of Biz, trampling whatever plant life was underfoot in a beeline after the plant-like porcupine. Biz hadn’t stopped once, rolling at high speed through the earthen streets of pillars. [Merde merde merde merde merde.] He swerved through corners as best as he could, trying to lose his pursuer, but Stantler’s cornering was tighter than his. If he went faster, he’d lose the cornering he did have, and he’d end up on a very predictable straight line.

[That’s IT!] Biz reached his maximum speed, barreling down a straight away between two rows of pillars. Making a good distance between himself and Stantler, he uncurled and turned to face his incoming adversary, digging his claws into the earth to assist his braking. At full stop, he braced his legs and created his wooden arm cannon. [Get some of this!]

The Seed Bomb jettisoned from the cannon, firing low directly in front of the Big Horn Pokémon. Stantler took to the sky with a Bounce right before the Seed Bomb could hit her. It blew up in a shockwave of air and sharp seed bits beneath her. Biz looked up, ready to shoot again.

Problem was, there were three Stantler in the air above him. Again with this? He knew shooting a fake would result in nothing, and it could leave him wide open. Before he could figure out what to do the Stantler were descending upon him, pointing their antlers down in preparation to slam him into the ground. Biz pointed his Seed Bomb at the ground, loosening his stance and allowing the recoil to pop him up and away as it exploded. Biz somersaulted backwards through the air, and the Stantlers landed where he stood mere seconds after.

Not giving up the chase, the real Stantler and her illusions kept galloping the moment their hooves touched the ground, chasing after Biz as he started to fall. In the air, Biz pulled out a Needle Sword, holding it up just in time to block the Zen Headbutt coming off of the Stantler’s antlers. The illusions disappeared, revealing the one he blocked was real, and the Stantler started to rapidly assault him with jagged headbutts.

Biz jogged backwards at Stantler’s pace, parrying headbutt after headbutt with swipes of his sword. [You-ain’t-worth-nothing!] he grunted, each word punctuated by a parry. [There’s no way I’m letting you back to your partner!]

The Stantler scoffed, locking her antlers against the Needle Sword. The two attacks were grinding up against each other, both refusing to relent. [Néron was right, you are the dumb one. Damn, I hate hearing that Ninjask say “I told you so.”] She sighed, then snorted. [I came out here for a reason. To make sure you don’t get back to yours.]

A bead of nervous sweat ran down the back of Biz Marquis’ head as he jumped back. Salieri was in more danger than ever without his Bulletproof guarding her. Feeling like an idiot for thinking otherwise, Biz growled, tucked, and rolled towards the forest. [As if I’d let that happen!]

Stantler suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of him, and Biz stopped in his tracks. By the time he figured out it could be another illusion, the real Stantler slammed a Zen Headbutt into his flank, flinging him into one of the pillars. Biz groaned as he struggled to stand up.

[I can’t believe I have to waste my time with you. What a pain,] Stantler sighed with a fed up snort. She looked to the forest. [Hmm, maybe I should just find your trainer and blindside her while she looks for mine. That’ll make this quick. She’ll never see it coming-]

A slender vine latched onto one of her antlers and wrapped around. Stantler seemed stunned as Biz yanked hard, not to pull Stantler to him, but to pull himself to Stantler. He cocked back an arm, Seed Bomb in hand, and thrust it forward. [Not gonna happen!]

Stantler narrowed her eyes, applying concentration for the first time in the fight. She ducked, allowing Seed Bomb to fly over her, then bucked her head back up as Biz came in to Zen Headbutt him in the stomach. With the vine still lassoed onto her antler, she whipped her head side to side, swinging him like a tetherball until the Vine Whip snapped and Biz was sent tumbling to the ground, gasping for air against his injuries.

[Merde!] he grunted as he stood up slowly. Synthesis activated and he absorbed the surrounding sunlight, turning it into vitality as his wounds started to stitch up. One usage wouldn’t heal him completely, but he doubted his opposition would give him more time. The Stantler no longer seem so blasé, shifting to annoyance.

[It’ll suit us both if you just stay down.]
[I…] Biz panted heavily. [I….my trainer never gives up. How could I face her if I stayed down!?] He punched the ground in frustration at his own weakness. [I won’t let you beat me, damnit! I can do this!]

Once again, the Stantler scoffed. [I’ve heard similar claims, from similar Pokémon.] She lowered her antlers, prepping another charge. [It all ends the same.]

Something overcame Biz Marquis. A tingling of memory. Hindsight was twenty twenty, and in his he could see the fear that lurked behind Salieri’s eyes when she told him to man up. It was pushed away, deep down to the point where it was just a reminder of stark reality, because her determination weighed so much more. The fear of losing was absolutely nothing compared to the fear of letting The Sniper win. Fear…is that a part of being a badass?

A rush of vigor went through Biz Marquis like a breath of fresh air. With eyes blazing like his trainer’s, he roared, [You’re not dealing with them!] He curled into a ball and spun in place, charging his Rollout and grinding into the earth with every rotation. A cloud of dust kicked up behind him. [You’re dealing WITH ME!]

And then they charged at each other.

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Sky Battle

Aside from the two combatants, the skies were clear, wild Pokémon fleeing the scene at the mere feeling of the presence that Dune exerted. The two of them had barely stopped moving since the fight had begun, constantly clashing as two black and red blurs like an extravagant light show.

Durendal’s insane speed turned him into a meteoric streak that stained the sky red, so saying that Néron the Ninjask made him look slow was saying a lot. Since the fight began, The Pawniard hadn’t landed a single hit, yet Néron chipped away at him slowly, akin to a whole swarm of bugs. By now, Durendal had boosted his speed up to the limit through a combination of Rock Polishes and Fleché. All Néron had to do was maneuver with Quick Attack to make that trivial.

Clouds parted around them as they dashed through the sky, side by side at an even pace only because Néron chose to slow down. Having grown stronger over the past few days, Dune was able to use Fleché a la Mode for longer than ever before. It made no difference to the cicada. [Kekekeke, I was hoping I’d get to fight you,] His voice was shrill but aged. Clearly this Bug was old. [You ended up being the most interesting.]

Néron disappeared after his taunting, Quick Attack rendering him invisible even to Durendal. The tin soldier dove straight down towards the pillars on Route 10, until he was slammed in the side by the Quick Attack and thrown off his flight plan. With his armor it did little damage, until Néron repeated this move from his other side. Again. And again. And again. [Devlin said I might have to take care of the turtle, but look how that turned out! Kekekeke, I can’t wait to tell her “I told you so”, she hates that.]

Dune was being hit from all sides almost simultaneously, forcing him to hover in place while he was shaken by speeds too fast to be seen. Scratches had begun to show on his armor, and more sprouted with every passing Néron made. [This low breed girl’s put up more of a fight than her brother ever did, but it’s still useless! Our sharpshooter does not lose, especially not to her kind! She’s probably riddled with holes by now-]

Such a statement was more than enough for Dune. Metal Claw shining in the unblocked sun, he swiped out at his side, where he predicted Néron would come at him next. He finally caught sight of the cicada, who became visible after slowing down enough to fly around Dune’s strike. [Not even close! Even at my age, you’re a Slowpoke next to me!]

Néron flew in and raked his claws at Dune’s face with Fury Cutter. Dune expertly attacked back for a stop hit, resulting in a rapid clash of jabbing and slashing. Each time their claws made contact, blocking one another’s move, a CLANG! rang through the sky. There wasn’t a lot of power behind Néron’s attacks, but their sheer speed was beginning to overwhelm Dune. He couldn’t match these attacks for much longer. [Feeble vanguard! She has too much faith in you!]

A Fury Cutter came down as a hammer blow, something Durendal couldn’t fully block. It left a thin downwards slash on his chest armor and he was knocked towards the earth. In Fleché Mode, Inner Focus’ effect was inverted, making the user twice as sensitive to pain. Dune growled, wincing as he rode the momentum, readjusted himself and flew down to the pillars. He cut through the wind, his surroundings all hazy at this speed. Néron dove after him.

Dune briefly saw Biz Marquis farther below, getting chased by Devlin the Stantler, but he had no time to assist his comrade. The Pawniard weaved between the tops of the pillars, zig zagging in an attempt to throw Néron off. A momentary lapse, some kind of slip up, was all he needed to create an opening, Without dropping speed, he spun and started flying backwards, flicking darts of crimson Thunder Wave at Néron.

The Ninjask phased in and out of sight, utilizing Quick Attack to disappear right before each thin cable of electricity could reach him. They fizzled on pillars behind him as he advanced closer to Durendal, cackling all the while. Reappearing right before Dune between Thunder Wave shots, he clocked Durendal downwards again using an X-Scissor, sending the little blade Pokémon careening into the half height point along a skyscraper sized pillar.

Néron buzzed to Dune’s level, right where the Pawniard’s sprawled body was partially embedded into the mystery stone. Though his armor sparkled, a result of all the polish, the countless scrapes against it were a dull color. The sparks that coated him in Fleché were gone just as the mode was.

The Ninjask’s collar camera’s lens shifted nonstop to adjust for the best possible image. [You’re just another drop in the ocean. It’s tough work, picking you all off, but somebody has to do it.] The Ninjask brought a claw up to Dune’s mask, smiling with his eyes. [Not that I don’t like my job. Seeing the white in your eyes after I beat you senseless…kekekeke, that’ll make this disappointing battle worth-]

Durendal grabbed Néron’s outstretched arm and reversed their positions, slamming the Ninjask into the pillar and hovering in front of him. The Bug’s type claw was being pressed against his own neck. They could both hear the steady cracking of the camera’s complex lens as Dune applied pressure. [Y-you insolent brat!]

Before Dune could apply a Thunder Wave, the Ninjask flapped his wings ferociously, conjuring a Gust that blew Dune a few feet back before rampaging in with a Fury Cutter and a shriek. [Do you realize what you’ve done?!] Dune switched Fleché back on to keep up and locked his attack with Metal Claw, pushing back. With neither one being able to push the other away, they came to the same conclusion: go up.

The two blurs became a streaking double helix of red and black spiraling into the sky, wavering as it rose when the two of them attacked each other. It separated high above the pillars into two parallel streaks racing up through the clouds.

[Our sharpshooter keeps this country’s upper echelon pure!] Néron had to scream over the rush of air to get his point heard. He crossed his arms, prepping his next X-Scissor. [A street urchin, her brother’s slothful turtle, a petty thief, the fat one, and you, you’re nothing but misfits! If you won this league, our pristine country would topple!]

Dune’s entire body ached. His armor felt like it was squeezing him, internally bruised from all the high speed hits. Using Fleché constantly was beginning to wind up his muscles. The Ninjask was just too fast. There wasn’t anything he could do to stop Néron from escaping and finding Salieri all over again. It was only the old cicada’s arrogance that kept him here, fighting Dune. So as long as I keep fighting, The Sniper has no scout.

Under that rationalization, Dune held out a hand and gestured for Néron to come.

The cicada’s shrill cry echoed as the red and black streaks collided again, tearing across the sky. It was the first thing Quacklin’ saw as he flew over the mountain range, tired of flapping his wings and feeling triumphant for making it so far.

[BEHOLD! The Sword of the Sky dances over the edge of the earth! Quaaaa-….Oh my leeks, what is going on up there?]

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Coastal Forest

The center of Route 10 was busy with bombastically violent sounds, but the forest at the edge of the water was still with quiet. The shooting had stopped shortly after Salieri and Lupin had become camouflaged. Or rather, mostly camouflaged: the ink on Salieri’s injured leg was acting as lubricant, and the already fragile scales couldn’t stick on. The ink was also too thick for Salieri to see what her injury looked like. Judging by the searing, sharp throbbing pain, she assumed it didn’t look very good.

At the very end of Route 10’s forest was a high fence of rock with Geosenge Town on the other side. There was a lot of forest between Sal and this wall, and she was willing to bet The Sniper was probably at the end. When she blitzed across Route 10 trying to track the enemy, she was worried that he’d escape. Not only was she running for her life, she was running for time. Octillery was a Water type, so an oceanic escape wouldn’t be out of the question.

Now that Salieri was close enough to see that the waves that once crashed against the coast had been frozen over into a thick wall of ice, she wasn’t too worried about the escape part anymore.

Her first assumption was that the ice wall was that wild Vaporeon’s work. Not many wild Pokémon were smart enough to make a tactical retreat like she had before, and even less would be smart enough to ensure their prey doesn’t escape. But what was a blessing could also be a curse. If the Vaporeon was as volatile as she seemed, she might charge in and could disrupt Sal’s stealthy approach. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

She dropped low to the ground and tiptoed from behind her current tree to behind a slightly farther bush, traveling under the shady darkness of the dense forest canopy and keeping her injured leg as low into the grass as she could. The Sniper still didn’t shoot, though Salieri speculated it might not be because he couldn’t see her. He was pinned between the wall of ice and the fights on Route 10. The more he shot, the more he gave away his position. He’s playing it close to the chest.

Their pace had dropped drastically after the blitz through Route 10, but it did little to calm Salieri. Her heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to tear out of her skin. She had to move slow, out of necessity, yet her mind raced a mile a minute, trying to figure out her next big move. The scales were also super gross, sticky and cold. And they were all over her. It made her want to squirm.

Like all chameleons, Lupin’s eyes could pivot and focus independently from each other, giving him an almost three hundred sixty degree range of vision and allowing him to see two different places simultaneously. As Salieri crept slowly from foliage to foliage, he scanned their surroundings, looking not just for The Sniper but for sneak attacks as well. [Why’d I let you drag me into this?] he said in a hushed whisper. [This is such a stupid way to die. I never even stole my big score-]

Salieri swatted the chameleon in the face, a lucky hit because she couldn’t see him, following up with a “Shhhh!”. Lupin shut himself up, not happy about it.

The trek continued. Every step Salieri took was a massive strain on her leg, causing sharp pain to run up and down its length. The only consolation was the black ink blending into the shadows. Octillery, Stantler, the scouting Pokémon. I know three of his teammates. Does he have three more? What could they be? She stopped behind a bush, her heart thumping so hard it almost hurt. What if they’re already out and looking for me?

The trees up ahead were thinner than the ones she had already passed, sporting spindly branches that creaked out like crooked arms. Salieri took a deep breath and dropped to the ground. Her army crawl was slow going, but if she snapped one of those branches or if The Sniper caught sight of his ink, her position could be given away.

SNAP!

Salieri and Lupin froze. A few yards away from her, a tree branch was snapped by a Golett wandering through the forest who had mistaken the stillness for safety. Only seconds later, a single Octazooka from the northern end of the woods pierced through three trees on its way to Golett. The splintered trunks, unable to stand with massive holes in their centers, fell as the blob of ink collided with the Automaton Pokémon, snapping open the power seal on its chest. Golett’s spirit floated out of its body into the afterlife, and the husk that was left behind crumbled into blue dust.

[Go!] Lupin urged in a loud whisper, and she did. Taking advantage of the fallen trees, she transformed her army crawl into a low dash, gaining ground faster than before. The camouflaging scales peeling off as her movement quickened, but she didn’t have the luxury of caring about it as she ran. Each step resulted in excruciating pain, something Salieri did her best to ignore. After all, Durendal did it all the time. What kind of trainer would she be if she couldn’t learn from her Pokémon?

She dropped to the grass when the trees settled, and once more the forest was quiet. Right next to her was one of the fallen trees, its center carved out entirely. Drips of ink coated the inside of the hole. The piercing was so clean, she imagined if she found the part that was cut out, she could just slide it back in like a puzzle piece. She also imagined what would have happened to her leg if the Octazooka that hit it didn’t just graze her. And then she imagined what would’ve happened if the Octazooka hit her face.

“More scales, Lupin,” Salieri hissed, pressed flat to the ground. Lupin regenerated his scales, turning her functionally invisible again. The ink on her leg still prevented it from being hidden.

Salieri and Lupin were almost halfway through the forest now. The farther she got, the thinner the forest became, and the less spots she had to hide. At this distance she still saw no hints of The Sniper or his Octillery. But if I wasn’t camouflaged, could they see me? They stopped to lean against a tree. By now, Salieri was exhausted, clutching her leg with grit teeth.

[This is nuts.] Lupin looked back at the trees the Octazooka took down, now far behind them. He must’ve also been imaging what taking one head on would be like, because he cringed. Back when he first saw Salieri at the Parfum Palace, he thought she was just a greedy thief like himself. Discovering just a taste of the deep s**t she was firmly embedded into gave him a new perspective on that first impression. [Why are we even doing this? Let’s just scram, somewhere he won’t blow you apart! Or at least let ME bail!]

“Quiet!...look, I still have no idea what you’re saying,” Salieri said through strained breaths. “Sounds like you’re doubting me.”
Lupin shifted his coloring to drop the quality of his camouflage enough so Sal could see him nodding vigorously. [Yes! Finally, you’re right about something!] He tugged on her arm. [We can still get outta here!]

Sal pulled away from his grip and leaned her head back on the tough bark. “We don’t really know each other, so I’ll tell you something about me. From, uh, one booster to another.” A quick pause to check over her shoulder later, she said, “I used to steal stuff because I didn’t really have anything. Then…then someone stole what I did have. And you know, when that happens, other people’s belongings aren’t that appealing anymore. All I want is what should be mine.” She propped up her injured leg, leaning in to crouch on both feet. Amber eyes welling up with fire, she growled, “This is nothing. I’ve been thinking about this day for almost six years. And I’d rather keep going with both my legs broken than take one step away.”

Lupin became as still as the forest. When she finished speaking, he looked away, lost in thought. “Looks like you know that feeling.”

The unmistakable digital sound of a Pokémon being released snapped Sal and Lupin to attention. They could already hear the quick taps of the Pokémon’s scuttling. He sent out another scout. Sal and Lupin scooched over to a bush next to their tree, and gently pulled apart a small hole in the bramble to see.

A hulking Drapion scanned the forest floor approaching from the north. The Ogre Scorp yanked up the bushes and peeked around the trees, swiveling his head around a full hundred eighty degrees at intervals to check his blind spots. “Damn, a second scout,” Sal whispered. Lupin gulped. Their position would be compromised any moment, and when it was they’d have to deal with getting shot at on top of this new factor. Evading that kind of surveillance in her condition would be impossible on the forest floor.

“We have to get higher.”

Salieri started to climb the tree aided by her switchblade digging into the bark, incredibly slowly so the scales wouldn’t all scatter off of her. Lupin crawled around her with great dexterity, patching up scales as they inevitably did fall. When she got to a crook where the trunk split off into two directions, she perched in its center on her goo leg, letting the bad one dangle behind her. Drapion was getting closer. She tensed up, knowing that if he saw her leg, they’d have to fight. Holding tight onto the twin trunks, Sal leaned over as far as she could, barely breathing anymore.

The living river that was Vaporeon writhed out of a bush and into the air, spiraling up one of Drapion’s oversized claws to get on top of his back. The Bubble Jet Pokémon transmuted back to her solid form, growled, and shot a Scalding stream of boiling water point blank onto the Ogre Scorp’s head. Drapion howled and swiped at Vaporeon, who turned back into water and simply cascaded off of him and to the ground.

“Wow. C’est pas vrai.”

As soon as Vaporeon reformed, The Sniper took his shot, spraying Bullet Seeds that cut through the leaves. Two of them hit their mark, leaving light blue bruises on the Water type’s ribcage, while the other three missed as Vaporeon turned to water once more, becoming a swirling mass and making holes in herself to let the shots pass by. Sal noticed the bruises were already shrinking, each one becoming wrapped in an Aqua Ring to heal.

Now, as a thrashing whip of water, Vaporeon danced away and around both Drapion’s swinging claws and the Bullet Seeds. Drapion moved faster than Sal expected him to given his frame and size. Even so, his Knock Offs weren’t fast enough to keep up with what she assumed was an aqueous version of Quick Attack. Speed wasn’t enough to dodge such an onslaught forever, and again Vaporeon got hit with Bullet Seed. Her water form lost volume, and when she returned to her solid form she was bruised again. Drapion landed a Knock Off, flinging Vaporeon towards Sal and Lupin’s tree.

Vaporeon smirked. Right before she hit the tree she transmuted again, latching onto the trunk and wrapping around it like a rope. She squeezed, and the water pressure crushed the center of trunk. The tree started to fall towards Drapion.

“Merde.”

Salieri tucked Lupin under her arm and leapt off the tree, rolling sloppily onto the ground. Scales peeled off all over her, making her partially visible. Drapion slashed at the incoming tree, battering it aside and taking another Scald from a grounded, solid Vaporeon while he was distracted. The Ogre Scorp stumbled back, clutching his ribs, and spotted Salieri looking right at him. He pointed at her and looked north.

Before he could utter a noise, Vaporeon dove at him, turning into a spinning globe of boiling water that encapsulated his whole head. Drapion held his breath and reached up to swipe her away, tearing off parts of the water globe. From what Sal saw before, it appeared that her water form wasn’t immune to damage, just resistant to it. [Get his arm, Lupin,] she called to her Kecleon.

Still invisible, Lupin lashed his tongue out at Drapion’s arm, no questions asked. If they didn’t take out Drapion right away, they’d be made. His tongue wrapped onto one of Drapion’s wrist and pulled, halting it mid Knock Off. Drapion was surprised that he had been stopped. He pulled back, but as he ran out of breath, he struggled to muster the strength. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he passed out.

The Vaporeon’s liquid form jumped off of Drapion’s mouth and out of his lungs, leaving the Pokémon breathing but passed out, his head steaming from being submerged in Scalding water. The moment Vaporeon was fully separated from Drapion, she was clipped by two Bullet Seeds. The Sniper had opened fire again. As she fell to the ground in her solid form, she blew a murky black Haze from her mouth, covering the area with fog.

It didn’t seem that The Sniper knew Salieri was also there, but his stray Bullet Seeds were coming dangerously close to piercing her. In the cover of the Haze she ran to the fog’s edge. A Bullet Seed grazed her arm, leaving a stinging pain that was relatively tame by now. Two more shots grazed her back, and Salieri considered herself lucky to be alive. The Bullet Seeds poked holes through the Haze until it was fully dispersed, and the fire ceased once more. It had returned to the calm between the storms.

Salieri was anything but calm once she realized they ended up hiding behind the same fallen pine tree as Vaporeon. The wild dog was kneeling in pain, Aqua Rings spinning on her many bruises. “Who the hell are you?” she harshly whispered, scowling at Vaporeon. “You’re getting in my way!”

Vaporeon scowled right back, still tough despite the damage she had taken. [Back off, lady, I was here first.]
[I tried that one already,] Lupin lamented, making himself visible and crossing his arms. [Didn’t take.]
“Oh, think you’re tough? I’m the one that’s gonna make this guy cry red!” Salieri claimed as she undid her bandanna. She mopped as much ink off her leg as she could with a leaf before tying to bandanna tightly around her calf.
[These clowns woke me up from my nap!] Vaporeon barked. [They’re mine!]
[Seriously?] asked Lupin. He was ignored.

Tired of trying to hold full conversations with Pokémon, Salieri pinched her brow and sighed, attempting to quell her frustration in order to survive this ordeal. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. You’ve heard that one before, right?” The Water type rolled her eyes for confirmation. “I don’t care if you wanna beat on this guy too, but if we’re both go for him alone we’ll probably end up dead. Let’s get this over with together.” Salieri held out a hand.

The Vaporeon considered the proposition. Heaving an annoyed sigh, she held out her paw. Salieri pulled back slightly. “One thing: I’m getting the finisher on the trainer.” Vaporeon focused her stare, conveying her belief that no one should boss her around. Nevertheless, she shook on the deal.

“Let’s do a pincer movement.” Saleri drew a circle in the dirt with her finger, and two arrows on the outside curving towards it. Lupin began to reapply scales to her body. “You take the ocean side flank, we’ll get the other. When we move in, go for it.”

Vaporeon nodded and started to melt away, dissolving from the legs up. Lupin and Salieri were nearly invisible now. Before her head was entirely camouflaged, she uttered a “Happy hunting.”

The camouflage and melting process were completed at the same time. Vaporeon snaked through the grass and Salieri snuck away. Lupin kept one eye on the Vaporeon until she was out of sight. [I don’t know about this.]

“No time to complain, Lupin.” Salieri cracked her knuckles. “We’re almost at the end.”

Route 4 - Parterre Way

'There.'

Charmander charged and span, whipping his tail around his body for maximum momentum. At first he'd tried swishing his tail, loosing balls of Ember at his targets, but a swish was weak and the Ember slow, allowing his opponents ample time to counter attack. He soon learned how to execute the move quickly, his fireballs speeding like a hail of bullets. He nailed a Ledyba that was too slow flying from a leaf, flames riddling its flank and knocking it out in a single strike.

'There.'

Each time Zack called, Charmander had to move. If he hesitated, Clauncher fired another blast of Water Gun. Another pokémon had appeared and Charmander had to take it down. If he was too slow, he had to deal with Clauncher. He'd initially hated the system with a passion, ever inclined to turn his attention away from the pokémon and onto the pokémon trainer. But he soon had to admit that the system had its perks. Charmander had progressed quickly, honing his reflexes and coordination, sharp like a killer's blade. The pokémon on Route 4 were nothing to him. He Scratched a Skitty without bothering to look as he sped past, sending it flying.

A swarm of Combee appeared when Charmander landed, rising from the sea of flowers, a miniature army. He panted for a second, catching his breath, and the swarm circled him, their angry buzzing creating an odd pressure in the air. They drew in close, filtering sunlight into a misty yellow haze, cutting off his retreat. A burst of water shot through the cloud of bug types, and Charmander smirked. He kicked off the ground, backflipping as the burst struck through where he'd been and took a Combee out. The swarm tensed in surprise, and Charmander let a streak of Embers fly, slicing a vertical line of flame as he flipped and landed.

Ember burned a strip of Combee from the air, but the rest charged in. They had the advantage of numbers, but that was all they had. The Combee launched Gusts, sharp blasts of air that decapitated chunks of flowers. Charmander ducked under one volley, then planted his palm and performed a side flip to avoid the rest. It was almost too easy, like they were letting him win. He wondered if this was how other pokémon felt when they'd been trained; powerful, dominant, a level beyond the rabble that littered the Routes. He let Ember cluster in the air, hovering in place, then he touched the ground. No, he decided, it was just him.

Charmander let loose a thin Smokescreen, more hot air than smoke, which collided with his cluster of Embers, and immediately ignited, exploding fire out the other side. The Combee opposite Charmander were incinerated, but the rest swarmed behind him. Not letting up for a second, he jumped over the ball of Ember, and landed on the other side of it. As he did so, his burst of fire struck the earth, splashing with thick tongues that swept over the field of flowers like a blazing tsunami. His breath was running out, and he was going dizzy; almost suffocating, lungs begging to be filled. He dragged his attack upwards, then dashed in close to the Embers, making his explosion of fire span wide and turn his enemies to ash.

He stopped and the Embers died. Blackened Combee fell limply from the air like slow hail. Charmander sucked in breath, lightheaded and gasping. Scorched earth lay at his feet, flowers replaced by tiny bonfires.

A Budew toddled by in the distance. 'There.'

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Sky Battle

The wicked sharp speed of Dune and Néron chasing after each other whipped up stray winds, making it difficult for Quacklin’ to fly steady. Exhausted from his non stop flight from Lumiose, the last thing he expected was complications in the final leg. [But what is a sword-] he wheezed with tiny quacks, [If not sturdy?]

The battling Pokémon were a tangle of red and black blurs, spinning a circle in a cloudless gap of sky. Quacklin’s Keen Eye caught sight of his fellow swordsman Durendal within that circle of blurs. [Sir Durendal!] Quacklin’ hollered over the wind. [Sir Durendal, over here! I, Quacklin’, have arrived! My journey was long, and fraught with peril-]

The circle came undone as Dune pulled away from Néron. The only damage the cicada had taken was on his neck where Dune pinned him to one of the pillars. Dune looked far worse off, breath heavy and armor worn in with scratches and dents. In this brief lapse from combat, he switched Fleché a la Mode off to conserve energy. Néron looked over at the Farfetch’d trying to get their attention. [Admirer of yours? Tch, how annoying.] Néron sharpened his claws against each other. [He doesn’t even seem worth striking down.]

Despite all of his posturing, Quacklin’ was only half as annoying to Durendal as the arrogant, elitist Ninjask was. Though he never showed it through his stoicism, listening to either one of them was quite grating. Nevertheless, he decided to tune in to Quacklin’s story, soley because Néron seemed amused and a lull in the fight meant he could catch his breath. He started listening right at the point where, [-the rocks rolled down the mountainside like breadcrumbs in my feathers, but they were but pebbles in front of my swordplay.] Quacklin’ held up his leek proudly, still flapping to stay aloft. [Now I have come, and I can deliver that which our trainer needs to repair the Pokédex-]

At the mention of “Pokédex,” Néron became still with focus, muscles in his arms tensing up. Dune had been fighting the Ninjask long enough to now this intensity meant he was about to attack. There was something about the Pokédex that triggered this in Néron. Clearly the cicada’s priorities had shifted from attacking Dune to incapacitating Quacklin’. The Pawniard held up his arms, ready to make his move.

In a flicker of speed, Néron disappeared and reappeared right above Quacklin’. With arms as tough as steel he plowed Quacklin’ in the head with a double handed Metal Claw, hammering the bird towards the ground. Néron watched the Farfetch’d quack his way down, spiraling towards the earth. [To think our sharpshooter could have been foiled by the likes of BZZZZZZT!]

The Ninjask convulsed as a crimson Thunder Wave coursed through his muscles, tightening them and making even the simplest of motions strainful to do. Just the act of flapping his wings to stay flying hurt with each flutter. [W-what’s going on?] Paralyzed, the cicada creaked his head back at Dune. Only seconds beforehand, the steel soldier looked ready to break. Now, Dune hovered towards Néron with slow confidence, arms folded and eyes darkened by the shadow of his helmet. [This was you? You BRAT!]

Néron flew at Dune, cocking back a Fury Cutter. He wasn’t even moving at half of his regular speed anymore. It was a simple matter for Dune to sway out of the way, practically taunting Néron with how effortless it was. Néron shrieked and swiped ferociously at his adversary. It was becoming painfully obvious that for all of Néron’s speed, he had next to no other skills to properly back it up. He was specialized to be an efficient scout. That, and his pride, had crippled him.

[You think you’re clever, don’t you?] Néron grunted as Dune bobbed and weaved almost without thinking between the relatively slothful Fury Cutters. [Even if you slowed me down, our sharpshooter will still make short work of your team! We’re an elite unit! None of you misfits could hope to stand up to our teamwork! Our sharpshooter trained us perfectly!]

Sharpshooter this, sharpshooter that. Durendal decided he had enough of allowing Néron to speak. Fleché turned back on, and just like how the Ninjask had done it constantly throughout the battle, Dune disappeared.

Néron’s jaw froze up. He had never been on the receiving end of this before. He had never been the slow one. Not knowing where his opponent could be, the scout started grinding his pointy teeth in anxiousness. A shadow came up from behind him, and before he could retaliate, Durendal gripped Néron from behind in a bear hug.

The Pawniard’s grip was sturdy and unrelenting, each of the blades protecting his ribcage pinning through the Ninjask’s wings. Néron shrieked in pain, struggling to escape, but with each movement he tried to make his wings got more shred up, and Dune’s grip became tighter.

[We have a sharpshooter too.]

Dune’s voice was a whisper, quiet as death. It traveled directly to Néron’s ear, sending a chill that shook the Ninjask to silence. Durendal squeezed tighter, leaving Néron with no breath and an abundance of fear. His whisper became rougher, betraying a bottled up fury as he said, [How dare you make her cry.]

In one heave, he flipped them both over and throttled towards the ground at full speed, spinning and getting faster with each rotation. The twisting piledriver drowned out the sounds of Néron begging Dune to stop, pleading for a second chance. In a thousand liftetimes, Dune would never entertain the thought. He closed his eyes near the end of their sky high Izuna Drop, and right before they both hit the ground, he stopped and let go.

At the southern end of the rows of pillars, Néron's collision with the earth created a loud BOOM! and a swirling mass of dust to go with it, uprooting slabs of ground and tossing tall grass into the air. When the dust settled, Néron lay in the middle of a crater four times his size, face down in a drizzle of dead grass.

Durendal hovered to the ground, gently landing on his feet. He watched the Ninjask for a few seconds before falling onto his back, numb with dull pain. He let his head flop to the side, and a short distance away he could see Quacklin’ teetering on one foot, utterly confused and concussed.

I took out the scout, Salieri. He closed his eyes, feeling his consciousness fade away. That’s all I’ve got. His vision turned to black and he passed out.

Néron groaned and rolled himself onto his back, panting hard. He couldn’t even feel his wings anymore. That insignificant tin can, he’ll die for this. With all the strength he could muster, the Ninjask pulled himself towards Dune’s body in an army crawl. I’ll rip of his armor piece by piece, and when he’s just a raw nerve I’ll finish him to the pain.

Quacklin’ teetered over, still confused, blocking Néron’s path. He wasn’t so confused that he didn’t recognize the Pokémon that attacked him. Before Néron could say anything, The Sword of the Skies bonked him on the head with his leek.

Bonk.

Bonk.

Bonk bonk bonk bonk bonk…

Néron fell face down into the dirt again, this time unable to get up at all and with several swollen lumps on his skull to keep him there. Snapping out of confusion, Quacklin’ surveyed the two KO’ed Pokémon before him, puffed out his chest, and rested his leek on his shoulder.

[What would you people do without me? A good sword is never rusty. Qua-ACK!]

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Coastal Forest

“The trail ends here.”

After they split off from Vaporeon, Salieri and Lupin found a spot in the forest where a thin path had been cut through, much like a trailblazer would clear one with a machete or hedgeclippers. They stalked through the woods, following the fallen branches until they reached a clearing where the trail ended. The clearing was wide, dotted with thick hedges, and the large stone wall loomed to the north. They had reached the end of the forest.

Salieri slunk up behind the last tree before the clearing. She and Lupin both peeked around it from opposite sides. The Sniper had nowhere else to be. If he left the forest, they would’ve spotted another set of tracks much like the ones they just followed. There was the possibility that The Sniper had bypassed part of the coastal ice wall, though Salieri thought it was unlikely. Vaporeon had that side covered, and the wild dog didn’t seem like the type that let their prey go free.

The more pressing matter was the Mr. Mime standing guard in the middle of the clearing. As jolly as anyone other member of its species, the Barrier Pokémon pantomimed a series of walls. Salieri narrowed her eyes and saw faint shimmers in the air. A Mr. Mime’s fingertips could emanate special vibrations that solidified air. He’s made a wall. Maybe it’s his last defensive line.

Lupin tapped her on the shoulder and pointed past Mr. Mime, at the corner of where the forest met the ice wall. Leafy treetops made much of the forest ground shady, but in one of the sparse strips of light that beamed down, she could see a reflection in the ice. The back of a person’s head hidden in a brown hooded cloak, and the ever watchful eye of Octillery.

Heart pumping faster and faster, Salieri had to restrain herself from jumping out of the bushes and running over. He’s right there. Fists tightened so hard that she thought her fingers might explode, Salieri gestured above Mr. Mime’s head. “See that?”

The tree they leaned against had a long crooked branch that loomed over the clearing, and the end of it was right above Mr. Mime’s head. “There’s an invisible wall blocking our way, but he isn’t miming one above his head. We can get the drop on him, then blitz The Sniper.” Sal stood up. “One last climb, Lupin.”

Sal gripped tight onto the tree and began her ascension, her Kecleon clinging on just as tight. The duo reached where the branch split off from the trunk and carefully pulled themselves on. Slower than ever, Salieri wrapped her limbs around the branch and inched across its length, holding her breath and praying that her camouflaging scales didn’t peel off on top of Mr. Mime’s head.

They reached the end of the branch safely, the dancing Barrier Pokémon below them none the wiser. Too close to even whisper orders to Lupin anymore, Salieri let go of the branch and clung on with only her legs, hanging upside down. They could drop at any moment now. As soon as we drop, there’s no hiding anymore. She gulped. Is this really the best way? Could I have down better?...no, no looking back. We can do this.

A blob of water bounded up from behind a bush to stream in a parabola at Mr. Mime. Vaporeon had gotten tired of waiting. Merde! She’s going to ruin everything!

Mr. Mime pretended to flinch, but he knew he’d be safe from harm. Vaporeon’s water form splashed up against the invisible wall, trickling down to the ground. The Bubble Jet Pokémon reformed herself, growling deeply at the Mr. Mime who just stuck his tongue out at her.

Octillery poked its head out from behind a tree, puffed up its cheeks, and fired a slew of Bullet Seeds at Vaporeon. The wild dog shifted back to water and splashed around. At this range the Bullet Seeds were stronger, retaining more initial launch power, but she could also see where they were shot from. Dodging them didn’t seem difficult for her, but advancing did.

Any seeds that hit the invisible wall bounced off and fell harmlessly to the dirt. Lupin started to squirm and Salieri clung onto him, trying to keep her balance. A crackling sound brought her attention to the branch they were hanging onto. A crack was forming at the branch’s base. The tip of it hung lower and lower, threatening to snap off at any moment.

Vaporeon, goddamnit, not again. Salieri grit her teeth as the branch gave way, falling along with her and her Kecleon towards Mr. Mime and the ground. You stupid piece of-

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Mystery Pillars

Biz Marquis sat propped up against the base of a pillar. Devlin’s antlers were not sharp, but she had rammed them into the Quilladin many times with enough force to draw blood from his thick wooden hide. Covered in gashes and losing blood, he struggled to even think straight.

The Stantler, a short distance away, was surrounded by dozens of illusion copies. They pranced back and forth while the real one sighed, looking on at Biz in pity. [You gave it a good try. Now stay down.]

Biz lifted up an arm. A Vine Whip grew limply from his wrist. He brought it up and snapped it down, where it reached some of the illusions and cut right through them. A row of phantom Stantlers disappeared from the herd, but the real one was unimpressed. [Why can’t you just give up? Get it through your head, you can’t beat me.]

[Maybe…I can’t.] Biz Marquis braced himself with a hand and got to his feet, panting. The last of his power points for Synthesis didn’t fully repair him, but his gashes were mostly closed by the power of the sun running through his veins. The Quilladin grinned and flicked a thumb over his nose. [But you can’t beat me, either.]

Devlin’s eyes twitched, the quirk transferring over to each one of her illusion copies. [What are you trying to say?]

[I can take whatever you dish out.] He spat a glob of blood onto the ground, still grinning. [This is the best you’ve got, isn’t it?]
[Hmph. It’s still more than enough to handle you.]
[Yeah…for now. But if you can’t beat me, and I won’t stay down…]

Biz started walking towards the herd of phantom deer. His walk quickly broke into a sprint, which turned into a top speed Rollout. [The only thing left…is to get better than you, RIGHT?!]

Three Stantlers, one real and two illusions, ran at Biz. The Quilladin bounced into the air and uncurled, fist cocked back. Every beating he had ever taken, whether it was from Veillantif bombarding him with Octazookas during training or if it was from Grant’s Amaura chilling him to the bone, he had come back tougher than ever. No matter what adversity he had come across, he had surpassed it so far. Biz had grown a thick skin over the past few days. Yes, he could take a beating.

Now it was time to give one out.

He thrust his Power-Up Punch directly into the real Stantler’s forehead. It was a lucky shot, instinct guiding his fist. Devlin stepped back, dizzied and unfocused. He didn’t have this attack a minute ago! As her concentration wavered so did her illusions. Focusing hard, she remade them, and every single Stantler ran from all sides at Biz.

Biz landed from his punch but did not slow down, running forward and tossing haymakers out at every Stantler in his path. One by one the illusions disappeared in the wake of his fists, until only a handful remained. The faces on each one reflected the sudden bout of uncertainty that came from the real Devlin.

[I told you,] Biz shouted as he spun on a heel, swinging a Vine Whip around him, [I would get better than you!] The real Devlin jumped over the Vine Whip towards Biz, leaving the last of her illusions to be destroyed by the swing. She reared back her antlers and thrust them forward.

He waited until she was within his range and then chucked his next Power-Up punch into her forehead again, right before her antlers could make contact. The attack was stronger than before, raised by the power of the first. With every impact, his strength grew more.

Devlin stumbled back, regained her footing, and swung her antlers down again. But her Zen Headbutt would miss as Biz rolled to her side and socked her right in the flank with another Power-Up Punch. He rolled again, punching her other side before rolling underneath her hooves and pushing his finest uppercut directly into her stomach, lifting up the deer and flinging her high into the sky.

[One new trick isn’t enough!] Devlin reformed her phantom stampede in midair, a swarm of illusions forming above Biz. At the apex of her launch she ended up right above the pillars. [You’re still just a dweeb! Nothing about you is tough! What do you think you’re doing?]

Biz pointed to the sky, his arm cannon forming and taking aim. He closed one eye, focusing on the herd falling towards him with the other. [I’m MANNING UP!]

And he fired a non stop barrage of Seed Bombs straight up into the sky. They passed through the illusions, dispersing them and exploding higher in the air. Devlin looked around as she fell, watching as her illusions were destroyed. She squirmed, trying to right herself or change her falling path. The effort was futile. A Seed Bomb nailed her in the stomach and burst in a swelling shockwave of seed shrapnel.

The Quilladin took a deep breath, flexed his arms and howled to the sky. [Now I’m A BADASS TOO!] he bellowed as Devlin’s unconscious frame plummeted behind him, ending up in a crater just like her teammate Néron.

The impact made Biz flinch. He watched her carefully as the dust settled to make sure this wasn’t another illusion. When he threw a stone at her and she didn’t react, he was sure she was done for.

The sound of crunching tall grass made him think otherwise. Biz swiveled around, aiming his arm cannon at the source of the sound.

It was Banksy, slowly traipsing through Route 10 with Dune’s body draped across the back of her shell and Quacklin’ perched atop her head in a very duck-like manner. Banksy looked beyond indifferent. [My apprentice!] Quacklin’ cried, waving his leek in greeting. [Still amongst the living, I see. Then you must have told the god of death exactly what I told you to say, did you not?]

[Uh…yes.] Biz couldn’t remember that particular teaching. He remembered learning how to wield a Needle Sword while the Farfetch’d rambled, but he had never paid attention to the speeches. So he chose to lie. [Master Quacklin’, what are you doing here?]

[I traveled far and wide to deliver a package to Lady Salieri,] Quacklin’ explained, gesturing to the tiny knapsack on his back with his leek. [And on my way I took care of a pest that was giving Sir Durendal quite a problem. You should be glad the Sword of the Skies arrived in time. Now hop on my steed-]

Banksy snorted a plume of smoke right into Quacklin’s face. The duck coughed and brushed it away. [Err, I meant our good friend, Lady Banksy, and let us find Lady Salieri. She can’t be too far, right?]

A guttural, human scream came from the western forest. [Yeah, let’s go,] Biz said as he jumped onto Banksy’s back to sit behind where Dune lay. [Hey Dune, you shoulda seen me before, I was all…oh, you’re sleeping. It’s cool, I’ll tell ya later.]

Route 10 - Team Salieri VS The Sniper: Coastal Forest

“What was that?”

Faust Nostrad checked over his shoulder to see what had just happened in the clearing. The giant branch that had been above Charlang, his Mr. Mime, had fallen off. The Soledad girl’s Kecleon was wrapped around the back of Charlang’s head, blinding the Mr. Mime with his tongue while the wild Vaporeon battered point blanks Scalds into the Barrier Pokémon’s chest. The clearing was a haze of steam and an abundance of combat grunts.

What was disconcerting was that Salieri was nowhere to be seen.

Faust gently pointed his Octillery’s head at the scuffle. “Bullet Seeds, Algo. Don’t stop til they’re both out.”

Algo nodded. The octopus’ cheeks puffed up, swelling with pressure before he launched a salvo of seeds at his enemies from his hiding place. The Kecleon tried pulling Mr. Mime into the line of fire, forcing Charlang to create another air wall for defense. Vaporeon turned back into the water and snaked along the ground between the seeds at the Octillery.

Faust backed away from his partner as Vaporeon closed in and reached for the pistol holstered at his side. Today was not going his way. Having to stalk such a paranoid girl for nearly two days was bad enough without her going off the rails. Now she was forcing him into a fight he didn’t want. It would have been so much easier if she had just quit being a trainer like all of his other victims.

Algo lurched back when Vaporeon jumped at his face, rushing around his head in a destructive Scalding current. The Octillery’s Suction Cups glued him to the ground, making mobility almost non-existent. “I’m going after the girl,” Faust told his Octillery as he backed into the last cluster of trees. He could hear his Mr. Mime and Octillery fighting fiercely behind him, but he couldn’t look back yet.

His most dangerous opponent was still out there, stalking him.

He tiptoed through the forest, pistol gripped at the ready. Also holstered on his hip was a machete, but that was made for cutting down bramble rather than people. Nicolette’s dossier on Salieri Soledad said she liked to fight up close, which is why he kept the machete around though it weighed him down.

Faust was not an intimidating young man, at least at first sight. He was just a few inches over five feet, lean with little muscle and bespectacled. When he attended the Battle Chateau he was always picked last for sports, always got low grades when it came to gym class. What he was good with were numbers. He could apply math to physics with ease, predicting angles of attacks and the timing of moves effortlessly. It was only when he started applying his math skills to Pokémon training did he become intimidating, enough that the urban legend Nicolette Nostrad took notice of his skill.

He had pride in his skills, and in his work. The Soledad siblings were the only people that tarnished his otherwise perfect record of “persuading” trainers to quit the league. This was the day he had decided on wiping those blemishes off his record. It was proving more difficult than he could’ve imagined.

The sound of a guitar riff starting came a few feet away from him, just ahead. Coldly focused, Faust stepped to the sound, aiming his pistol at its source. The song was coming from a blue pair of wireless headphones on the ground, blasting the song at full volume. He knew those headphones. They were Salieri’s.

Right away he recognized it wasn’t an accident. The headphones were dropped as a distraction. But are they bait? Does she want me to deal with music to create an opening to attack? Or does she think the music alone is enough of a distraction? The song in question was one he knew well. Nothing about it surprised him anymore. Child’s play. I’ll leave the headphones alone.

“You need coooool~in’, baby I’m not foolin’
I’m gonna se~nd you back to schoolin’…”

If she dropped them here then that meant she had gotten through the Pokémon battle in the clearing to get this far. She had to be close by, since the song had just started. There were a few bushes surrounding him. Faust positioned himself in the middle of them, waiting for her to jump out and attack. The moment she chose to, he would shoot.

“Wa~ay down inside, honey you neeeed,
I’m gonna give you my lo~ve…”

The hissing of steam, the sound of Bullet Seeds being spit out, and the strange cries of Lupin and Charlang echoed from just south of him. Faust found himself ignoring those sounds. The song had become dull background noise to him as he listened for the sound of a rustling bush, trigger finger itching. As soon as a bush so much as twitched, there’d be a bullet in her.

“I’m gonna GIVE YOU MY LOVE!”

As the drums dropped, so did Salieri. From a tree branch right above Faust. The Sniper jumped back, taken by surprise, and right before she fell she smacked the gun out of his hand.

Their eyes met briefly, in that slow motion recognition that occurred when one’s world was on the brink of collapse. Faust had never seen such a look before. Her eyes were deep amber, blazing with a calculated rage. Sal’s face was stone cold, but her eyes said everything. No mercy.

Faust was falling backwards but he recovered, pulling out his machete as he rolled away to spring onto his feet. Salieri somersaulted right after him, and before he could stand again, she stabbed her switchblade straight through his foot and into the ground.

Faust clenched his teeth together as searing pain shot up from his leg to his brain. Not a moment later Salieri was upon him with a flurry of rabbit punches. Every part of his body was rocked with the assault. Bloody and bruised within seconds, he still had enough of his wits about him to attack back. He swung the machete at her head with a growl.

Salieri ducked it, disarmed him with an elbow to his hand, and tackled him to the ground. Now on top of him, she pressed one hand against his neck and reached for her belt bag with the other. Faust gripped onto her arms to push her off, but her grapple was solid as a rock. His foot was still stuck to the ground by her switchblade. There was no escape, even as he struggled to free himself from her rampage. Despite his helplessness, Faust kept his teeth clenched, retaining his dignity in the face of this defeat.

She lifted off his glasses, and moved her hand from his neck to his eyes. With her fingers, she pried his eyelids open. “Don’t close them,” she growled. And suddenly, Faust didn’t care about dignity anymore. Suddenly, he was breathing in fear, and it was choking him more than she ever did. As memories flashed through his mind, he was beginning to think that going after the second Soledad sibling wasn’t such a good idea after all.

The last thing he ever saw was the endless abyss of rage behind her amber eyes as she spray painted his eyeballs red.

And he screamed.

((Epilogue up next y'all))

Route 4 - Parterre Way

'It's a real Clauncher, actually,' Zack said, waving the pokémon around. Its eyes opened wide, pupils turning to pinpricks as it shook. Zack trailed off when he actually saw Mia, a lump caught in his throat. God dammit. Why'd it have to be glasses?

'Break!' he barked, playing it off like nothing happened, swiping his thumb over his chin. Charmander looked over from the field of flowers, then promptly fell flat on his back. The flame on his tail poked up between the flower heads. Zack frowned as Mia spoke, walking toward her slowly, latching Clauncher to his belt and letting it dangle.

'Sal- you mean One Shot. Yeah, I remember. How is your little tree house?'

Route 4 - Parterre Way

'A party. With you.' Zack cracked a grin, shaking his head. Yeah right. He was barely still a teenager himself, but knew how loose the definition could be. Zack Redgrave wouldn't be caught dead at a party with a bunch of squeaky-voiced 14 year olds. He followed Mia's gaze to Charmander. The fire type's pit stop had been interrupted by a Flabébé that thought it could catch him off guard and take him down. It was partially right. Charmander was just about through with shredding its flower over its battered body, dusting off his hands. He realised that the trainers were watching, and gave a short salute of a wave before crashing out again by the time he lowered his hand.

'Yeah,' Zack said, 'That's me.' He was tempted to work in a crack about not needing to be a trainer to beat Salieri, but left it alone. That one would be far more effective if she were around to hear it. Instead he headed to the fountain and dunked Clauncher into it. Bubbles floated up while the water type drank its fill.

'So what about you?' Zack squinted in the afternoon sun and gestured to the bats on Mia's shoulders. 'I take it they're not just for decoration.'

Cyllage City Gym - Arena

A deep breath. Benedict watched the battle on the monitor, and when his time came, he found that time to wait patiently had given him nerves. Deep breath.

Francis was down, not that Francis was really a choice for this fight. It didn't stop the other ones from being untrained and potential disasters, but they weren't type disadvantages at least. Breath.

The youth made his approach to the arena proper, eyes on Grant. He forced himself to at least look calm, and even managed, after a moment, to give one of his signature grins. Not to Grant, to the cameras. The audience. It hid the nerves well enough, he thought.

No ring-outs this time. Make a real plan. Not that he could keep to that, but then, his first choice wasn't likely to be knocking anyone out of the arena. "You called for me?" He asked, and released Essence.

Calm. As important as it was to win here, it was just as important to keep up an image. To seem more confident in himself than he was.

"I'm ready whenever you are Monsieur."

Route 4 - Parterre Way

“Just your average ‘smart one’,” Mia assured Zack while walking a few steps past him to get a better look at the Clauncher, still rummaging for a lighter. It made her think of food as well.

“I was under the impression that earning badges means you’re a good trainer. It’s what I’ve heard from, well, basically everyone ever. But what do I know, I’m just the smart one.” Without looking at Zack she flashed him a weak thumbs up. “Good for you, breaking the mold. Or trying to…”

Her brow furrowed as she flipped her skirt’s pockets out. Still no lighter. “One Shot told me you have a sister. Are you flying solo together, or do you have friends in Kalos?” Mia nodded to his Charmander. “Can I use your light?”

Cyllage City Gym - The Arena

Grant was thankful Benedict showed up when he did. The Gym Leader had been holding his pose for almost five minutes now. “Excellent! We’ll make this a two on two match.”

He put his hand over the tube that fed him Pokéballs in his trainer box. The tube spat one out and he lobbed it into the air, producing a Tyrunt in a flash of red. The little dinosaur yawned, shook himself awake, and yapped excitedly at the sight of Essence the Roselia.

Grant gestured to Benedict’s side of the field. “As is custom, the first move is yours! Make it count!”