Some Corphish must have had a good ear, because ‘The Red Tide’ quickly abandoned they eternal skirmish and formed a wide circle around the old Wingull and me. Staring at each other, face to face, a bird and a sand slime were about to engage in the most epic battle that beach had ever witnessed, so I didn't bme them for not wanting to miss it.

  Even Mr. Krabs came with Pale Feathers from his corner, offering to be the referee, which the old seagull and I accepted without compint. Safety was a priority, after all.

  "Any st words?" the old seagull asked, adding a curious tone that was somewhere between melodramatic and that of a guard watching the door of a seedy dive.

  “Don’t hold back, Captain,” I smiled, wrapping myself around my skeleton in mere seconds, ready for anything he could throw at me.

  “Sandy, versus… ?Captain? Duel 1. Let’s rock!” excimed Mr. Krabs, lowering his cw and quickly backing away.

  Not wanting the bird to take the initiative, I unleashed my cssic Sand Tomb to keep him on the ground, to which he just scoffed and soared, not giving a damn about my attack. Frowning, I watched a thin sky-blue yer enveloping his figure, completely nullifying the effectiveness of my Ground-type move.

  So this is how immunities worked, huh?

  I needed to improve my game. I couldn’t underestimate old Wingull; he was, by far, the most powerful Pokemon I had seen up to that point. My usual tactics were insufficient.

  Following that spirit of trying something new, I pulled the shovel out of my chest and grew it to a decent size, infusing it with Ghost-type energy. The former toy shovel instantly transformed in my hands, taking on a bony, sharp appearance and becoming a practical polearm.

  However, I felt that something was still missing. The bigger it got, the less substantial it became, gaining volume in exchange for mass. The spade was still dangerous, and I felt it would be easier to repair if it stayed that size, but it was more fragile, and not as powerful as it could be.

  That was an interesting thought, I'd keep that in mind for ter.

  With preparations ready, I closed the distance with the Wingull at surprising speed (for a Sandygast), swinging my makeshift weapon that radiated Ghost-type aura like some sort of proto-Shadow Bone. The old sailor, experienced as he was, didn’t let the surprise affect him and evaded my attack at the st second, causing my shovel to just graze his feathers.

  The gust of air that accompanied my osciltion was more effective than the attack itself, slightly unbancing the bird's flight, and I took advantage of the opening to spray a Sand Attack into his face, although it didn't seem to affect him at all. I'm not sure if it was because of his Keen Eye ability or because of his Flying typing again, but the fact is that the little rascal emerged unscathed from my surprise attack.

  “I didn’t know Sandygast could do that!” the Wingull squawked happily, beginning to envelop himself in a dark-pink energy as he dodged my next attempts to smack him in the neck.

  "Me neither!" I excimed, a savage grin spreading across my skull, optimizing the structure of my sand muscles with each swing of my shovel.

  This is how a battle should be, a real Pokemon battle, and I was beginning to understand why nobody considered this as animal abuse in that world. Well, almost nobody. Psma was a thing, I think, after all.

  In an attempt to stop the seagull from further buffing himself with Agility, I slowed down my weapon swings to use a discreet Absorb, seeking to win the battle by simply being the st one to fall. However, my feathered friend seemed to see through my intentions, moving out of my attacks range with his prodigious ascending speed, gaining the famous ‘high ground’ advantage.

  "This battle is going great, Sandy, but I want to see how you deal with this," he said from the sky, starting a strange dance empowered by an intense blue aura, which seemed to gather all the clouds in the area.

  Thinking about what I could do to stop him before it was too te, I unleashed my Mega Drain at full power, focusing it completely on the dancing Wingull and, finally, condensing it into a Giga Drain. The drain on his energy slowed him a bit, enough to allow me to reflect.

  His earlier dispy of Agility had reminded me that Sandygast could learn Hypnosis naturally, and gave me an idea of ??how to do it, but I wasn't sure if it would work. Focusing on my tent Psychic potential, I transformed part of the aura that made up my shovel into the pink-purple energy I had just seen, swinging it in soft, slow movements before the eyes of my winged friend.

  That seemed to affect him a bit, slowing down his dance even further. Unfortunately, between the poor precision of the move and my inexperience with it, the Wingull shook off the sleep easily and finished his Rain Dance.

  A torrential rain instantly flooded the battlefield, slowly melting me into a puddle of warped mud. That was the end… if I did nothing to prevent it.

  I refused to accept losing in such a pathetic way, I didn't want my first defeat to be like that, so I reinforced the hardened sand that acted as my ‘skin’ to the maximum with Harden, but it wasn't enough. The water continued to melt me, little by little, forcing me to expend energy to maintain my form while the seagull, just by being in the rain, recovered thanks to his Rain Dish ability.

  That was not sustainable.

  My Giga Drain was still active, but with the target at that distance, it was more of a distraction than a useful move, making me spend more energy keeping it running than I was getting back, so I turned it off. Wingull's other ability, Hydration, would prevent Hypnosis from working, so it would be a waste of energy to even try again.

  Squinting, I focused on my extrasensory sense and looked at the droplets falling on me, searching what made them different from ordinary Water-type moves. Being the product of Rain Dance, these were still infused with a thick Water-type aura, but my ability still refused to work on them for some reason.

  I spent a few seconds like this, but inspiration didn’t smile upon me this time, and there wasn’t much time left before I was completely exhausted. Harden had turned into Iron Defense while I was thinking, giving my ‘skin’ a metallic glow and keeping the deluge at bay, but the increase in aura consumption to keep the move active only shortened my timer further.

  The old Wingull just watched from the clouds, raising an eyebrow at me with a mocking smile. I could almost hear him saying, “What are you going to do, Sandy?”

  I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face… but I knew when I was being outdone. My usual Ground-type attacks were just useless against him, and the rest of my moves didn't have enough range.

  I couldn't win the fight, that was a reality…

  But at least I was going to leave him one st surprise before I fell.

  With a huge shit-eating grin, I used the little energy I had left in one st desperate attack. Condensing all my aura, I transformed it into a deformed ball of purple, almost bck ectopsm. This one was extremely unstable, and I had no idea how to move it from its position, so I did the first thing that came to mind at that moment.

  Gripping my spade tightly, I found strength where there was none to bat the Shadow Ball straight at the unsuspecting bird, breaking my shovel in the process, and I colpsed. Just before I passed out, I swear I heard an explosion and old Wingull cursing to the four winds.

  Je, it was worth it…

  ???????

  “I still say the battle was rigged,” I muttered with fake anger as I devoured the fifth oran berry.

  When I woke up, it was already te in the afternoon. The rain had let up, thankfully, and Mr. Krabs had given me a few extra berries for the ‘practical demonstration’. The little Corphish had already gone home, happy to have seen a battle of that level (their words, not mine), and on the beach only the members of ‘The 24 Cws’ and an overly satisfied Wingull remained.

  It was a little odd to refer to that fight as ‘high level’ in a non-ironical way, but for a bunch of mostly peaceful giant lobsters, I guess it really was, so I wasn’t going to ruin their enjoyment with my insecurity.

  "You're the one who challenged me, don't forget that," Cap sang from his seat above my head, eating a sitrus berry. Apparently, he had liked the Captain nickname and had decided to keep it, shortening it a little. “Are you sure you don't want one of these? They restore a lot more energy than the pin old oran ones.”

  “I could try it,” I said, plucking the berry from his wings and taking a bite. “Hmm… It’s not bad, but it’s too hard and that gives it a weird texture.”

  "Well, your loss," he said with a snort that was somewhere between disgusted and amused, retrieving his food and pecking it into oblivion. “By the way, aren’t you going to turn back into your normal form?”

  Somewhat confused, I took a bite of the juicy sixth oran berry and, looking down at my bony hands, I realized that I was still wrapped around my skeleton.

  “To be honest, I hadn’t even noticed,” I said, shrugging my shoulders literally now that I could. “It feels pretty natural, actually. None of the usual tension and discomfort. Maybe I’ve finally evolved?”

  "I doubt it very much," said Mr. Krabs, joining in. "If you had, a shell of white energy would have surrounded you, and that never happened."

  “True. This isn't an evolution. Perhaps you've reached that 'Regional Form' thing you mentioned yesterday?” Cap added.

  “Maybe,” I muttered, returning to my normal form for a moment before wrapping myself around my skeleton again. “I don't feel any difference between the two forms, though I prefer having legs. I guess I'm still a normal Sandygast for now.”

  “Yes, perfectly normal,” the bird coughed, fluttering back to the top of my skull and rolling his eyes. “As normal as a green Wingull.”

  “Or a pink Corphish” the crustacean ughed with his characteristic ugh.

  “Okay, okay!” I excimed, throwing up my hands. “Maybe not ‘normal’ at all, but I still have a little way to go to reach my goal.”

  "Is that true, though?" Mr. Krabs inquired, once again showing his wisdom.

  "What do you mean?" Cap and I asked at the same time, sharing a single brain cell.

  “Your ultimate goal is to leave this isnd and start a journey around the world, right?” he began to expin, waiting for my nod. “If staying in your ‘human form’ tires you so little that you can remain like this indefinitely, aren’t you already capable of doing that?”

  Bowing my head slightly (much to old Wingull's chagrin), I thought coldly about the crustacean's words.

  He was right. With that battle, I’d grown enough to move almost better than when I was still human; I could leave the beach, explore the rest of the isnd, make a raft and go to fulfill my dreams… but I felt like that wasn't the right thing to do.

  Not yet.

  Nonetheless, what I was missing? What was holding me back?

  Had I become too attached to that beach and developed a strange Stockholm syndrome? Did the connection I had forged with its inhabitants make me subconsciously dey my desire to leave? Had I fallen into the falcy of evolution again, even though I didn't really need it? Was fear of the unknown preventing any real progress I wanted to make?

  It could be anything.

  “You know, you don’t need to make a decision right away,” Cap said after a few seconds of silence, showing some of the wisdom he had acquired with age. “You can stay on this beach as long as you need, I doubt the Corphish colony will mind.”

  “We would appreciate it, in fact,” said the big red lobster. “Our deal stands until you say otherwise.”

  "And things like evolution are too important to rush," the seagull continued, pointing to himself with a wing. “Look at me, for example. I could’ve evolved years ago, as you might have guessed, but I love traveling too much for that. Pelippers are big and powerful, no doubt about it, but speed is not their strong point. If I were to become one, my travels would be limited, so I would probably remain as a Wingull until the day I die,” the old bird finished with a sarcastic smile, as if he were challenging Arceus itself to make him keep those words.

  “Travel? I thought you belonged to the… flock, I suppose, of the Pelipper on this isnd,” I asked, looking to change the subject.

  “Yes, I do. I'm in the 'exploration and reconnaissance section', although I usually shorten it to 'the front end',” he replied, going with the flow. “We are migratory birds by nature; we follow the warm weather and deliver letters from time to time. I am one of the oldest in the Big Peak group, and only joined when I was unable to keep up with my former companions. My stamina isn't what it used to be, after all…”

  “Really? I'd say you still have it in you, old rascal.”

  “You ftter me, Sandy. I can say the same; you've given me a good fight for a Pokemon less than 1 month old,” he stated, 'serious', feigning a haughty and boastful tone.

  “It might have been better if I started with Astonish instead of that half-baked Shadow Bone. I can’t believe I forgot about that move…” I continued with a self-deprecating smile. “Next time, though, I’ll win!”

  “Hohoho, do you think I'm going to make it easy for you, little one? You haven't even seen a quarter of my power yet!” excimed the seagull, continuing with his act.

  We continued like this all afternoon, in a constant back and forth of jokes and advice born from our battle that morning, sharing quality time. The rest of ‘The 24 Cws’, seeing that the training was postponed today, joined us in our theoretical combat session mixed with life stories.

  Even Pincitas managed to work up enough courage to apologize with me for his behavior the day before, which was adorable. He also asked me to stop calling him by that name, which I quickly agreed to as long as he could come up with a better one.

  Better by my standards, of course. Hehe.

  At some point, Pale Feathers also appeared, taking Mr. Krabs to a more secluded spot. When they came back, I could only see a very confused Corphish and a Wingull that was somewhere between frustrated, disappointed and embarrassed. I guess she failed to convey her feelings to the dense crustacean that day again, press F to pay respects.

  As night fell, alone again on the beach, I grabbed my skull and stared into its empty eyes, doing my best Shakespeare imitation, Dulhan version.

  Mr. Krabs and Cap were right, as usual. I was in no hurry, I didn't need to rush to meet my goals; I didn't even need to rush to define my goals, in fact. I would have to do it eventually, of course, but I could take it a little easier.

  Training like if my life depended on it was only practical to a point, and while the gains were obvious, allowing me to fight on almost equal terms against a Pokemon equivalent to, at least, level 40 in a few days, it still was not healthy. Consolidating those gains seemed like the best thing I could do for now, and that beach, without even realizing it, had become my ‘safe corner’, so doing it there before I left was logical.

  I also had to repair my shovel, anyway. Staying to supervise the Corphish training in the meantime was no problem…

  Ha, how ironic. I was talking so much about wanting to explore the world, but I hadn't even stepped off that beach yet.

  Shaking the head into my hand, I figured spending a couple of days redefining what I really wanted to do would do me some good. I was in no hurry, there was no immediate danger, and I had company. Putting things off forever wasn't a good idea either, so I gave myself a week to make up my mind, but I would take things a little more calmly from now on.

  Putting my head back on track (quite literally), with the problems successfully postposed, I took one st look at the waves covered by those mysterious, ever-changing bubbles and fell asleep, not wanting to train that night.