Chapter 92 - Off with the Head

  Celeste had played chess before—with her dad, maybe three or four times in her life. Once with Opal, too. Neither of them knew the rules well, and she suspected neither of them had tried particularly hard to beat a kid.

  So when she thought of chess, Celeste didn’t picture strategy or planning.

  Nope.

  It was just a game of pieces following each other until someone yelled “Checkmate!”.

  And honestly, at this point, that was exactly what this game had devolved into—minus the checkmate, of course.

  She leaned back as she watched the surviving Magcargo slither forward, its molten body bubbling as it closed in on Blaine and his Centiskorch. Blaine then took a diagonal step left, and the fire-rock-rook followed. He then shifted right, but Magcargo mimicked him. Left again, and once more, the Magcargo kept up.

  Blaine let out a long sigh.

  Did he even have a plan? It sure didn’t look like it.

  He moved right once more, and the Magcargo followed again.

  The board held its breath. The only sounds around were the faint crackle of embers and—

  “Oh, my Arceus! Just do something interesting already.”

  …and Ariana, naturally.

  Blaine, surprisingly, tipped his head toward her. “My pleasure, Miss Connors.”

  He moved one more square left.

  This time, the Magcargo paused.

  Celeste narrowed her eyes. It could have continued following him left to right, but if it did, it would land in the Palossand’s line of attack. Instead, it chose a different route, sliding forward several squares until it stopped right at Blaine’s side.

  This time, Blaine didn’t move.

  He just smiled. “Lahar’s been itching for another fight.”

  Before the gym leader even finished speaking, Lahar was already moving, his bone club blazing with blue flame.

  Of course!

  Blaine hadn’t been running aimlessly. He’d been setting a trap. Every step, every retreat had drawn Magcargo exactly where he wanted it. And now, Lahar, fully in range, closed in, eager, ready to strike.

  The slug, unfortunately, reacted just in time, spitting burning rocks into the air as it turned to face the Marowak.

  Blaine flinched at that. Lahar did too, caught off guard by the sudden barrage. The fire-type then took a step forward, but a chunk of his mask chipped clean off.

  “Don’t tough it out. Bat them away!” Blaine commanded.

  Lahar didn’t balk. As soon as he got the command, he was already swinging his club, knocking the first rock aside. He staggered slightly, but stood his ground.

  The Magcargo didn’t let up, though.

  One rock. Then another. Then another.

  It was relentless. Lahar swung wildly, deflecting what he could, but the hits were landing. One after another, pelting him, burning him. Keeping him from taking even a single step forward.

  Celeste watched Blaine’s stance stiffen. He no doubt hadn’t expected this much resistance.

  One Bonemerang would end this fight, but only if they could get a break and aim it properly.

  Blaine exhaled. “Can you use Stomping Tantrum while still blocking?”

  Lahar let out a huff. Annoyed.

  Clearly, he preferred hitting things with his club. Celeste had hardly seen him use any other form of attack. But liking it didn’t matter here. Winning—surviving—did.

  With a grunt, Lahar lifted one foot—then slammed it down.

  Then the other.

  He repeated the motion a few times, and the board trembled with each stomp. Not as violently as it had with Hab’s Earth Power, but just enough to send vibrations rippling through the field.

  The Magcargo swayed.

  For a moment, the string of burning rocks slowed.

  And Lahar seized the opening.

  With another final stomp, he launched forward.

  Celeste barely had time to process the movement before he was already swinging.

  Bone Rush.

  One single strike, and—slice!

  The Magcargo burst apart. Smoked. Gone.

  The fight was over.

  But Lahar…

  He dropped to one knee, using his club to keep himself upright. His chest heaved, scorched and battered.

  This couldn’t be good.

  Still, Blaine exhaled, scanning the board. “You did good,” he said quietly. “You did very good.” He gestured around, a little louder. “Two Fennekin, a Rapidash, and the Delphox. I’d say… we might have a chance.”

  And at that, Lahar lifted his head, and from beneath the chipped bit of his mask, Celeste could swear there was a faint smile.

  Maybe, for the first time in a long while, they all smiled.

  But even so, a question remained.

  What was victory in a chess match with no King—no checkmate?

  —*——*—

  Celeste watched as the two Fennekin stirred.

  She felt mostly safe now, but one of the Fennekin Pawns was still within reach. If it moved on her, she’d have to fight (or Shy would).

  Luckily, it was the other one that advanced.

  Timid at first, the Fennekin took a single step forward. Then… another?

  “Pawns can move two squares on their first turn,” Nebula observed, answering the question Celeste hadn’t asked.

  “I didn’t get to do that…” Celeste muttered.

  Nebula’s eyes flickered. “Well, if you want to move so badly, you can try getting promoted.”

  “Promoted?” Celeste squinted. Somehow, these details never came up when she played chess in the past.

  Before the Orbeetle could explain, a sharp laugh rang out from a few squares away, followed by grunts of protest. Celeste turned just in time to see Ariana striding through her diagonal, stopping just ahead of Blaine and Lahar.

  “What?” she shrugged. “I was bored and Caleb was being a pain.”

  Celeste frowned. That… was kind of pointless.

  And even more so when the second Fennekin moved, too. It glanced at Celeste, considering if it wanted to attack, and then, as if deciding battling a punching ghost wasn’t worth the trouble, stepped two squares forward.

  “I don’t get what they’re doing,” Celeste said.

  Nebula didn’t answer. She just stared.

  Across the board, Caleb called his Palossand to his side. Celeste wasn’t sure if he planned to attack the Delphox or something else, but before he could make a move, Nebula finally spoke.

  “Promotion is when a Pawn reaches the opposite side of the board.” Her voice was slow in their heads. “They can become any piece except the King.”

  Celeste's eyes glinted slightly. “If I get promoted, I can move however I want?”

  And Caleb joined in, tilting his head toward the Fennekin that had just moved. “You think that’s what they’re doing?” He asked. “Wait! Do you think they’ll evolve if they get promoted? If they do, it’ll be Braixen, right?”

  Nebula just buzzed. “We are playing a chess game with no King to checkmate. And we are living pieces on a giant chessboard. I’d wager the Unown are pretty loose on rules...”

  Caleb raised an eyebrow. “But?”

  Nebula sighed. “But yes, I think they’re trying to reach the other side. And yes, promotion does sound close enough to evolution.”

  That was interesting. And worrying.

  With all the conversation, however, Caleb got too distracted to call a move of his own.

  And Ariana took advantage of that pause.

  With a grin and a flick of her tongue, she jumped to the next square.

  “I really like this promotion thing.” She made a beeline for the other edge of the board. “Bet I’ll make Admin.”

  Blaine, standing closest to her, shook his head. “I don’t think that’s how chess works.”

  Nebula hummed in agreement. “Only Pawns get promoted. You’re a Bishop.”

  But then… when Ariana stepped onto the last row of squares she—

  She vanished!

  No puff of smoke. No flash of light.

  One moment she was there. The next, she was gone. Like she’d been teleported somewhere else.

  “What—?” Celeste barely had time to ask before Nebula shot upward, her wings buzzing wildly.

  Caleb let out a low whistle. “Care to share what you figured out?” His gaze flicked to one of the remaining Fennekin, which had just taken another careful step forward.

  Nebula’s voice crackled with excitement. “Give me a second. I just need to—it’s fascinating. A… door? I hadn’t considered… Or could it be Ariana’s state of mind…?” She trailed into a stream of clacks, broadcasting her half-thoughts to herself and everyone else while spinning in place.

  Caleb sighed. “Guess we’ll have to wait.”

  Celeste threw up her hands. “She just vanished! Aren’t you worried?”

  He just shook his head. “Of course. But worrying won’t get us out of here.”

  With that, he plucked Sharpedo’s Pokéball from his belt, recalling the shark in a flash of red. Then, in a single fluid motion, he stepped into his L-shaped pattern, landing beside the nearest Fennekin. As soon as his foot hit the tile, he released the Pokémon again—this time, directly onto the enemy’s square.

  Celeste hadn’t noticed before just how uncomfortable the Sharpedo looked on land.

  She was impressed it even managed to stay upright at all. Her dad’s Wailmer couldn’t last two seconds out of water without flopping like a Magikarp—and a Wailmer flopping was always a disaster.

  But uncomfortable or not, the shark still moved fast. In a single, fluid lunge, he pinned the Fennekin beneath him and snapped his jaws shut.

  The little fire fox didn’t even have time to struggle before it puffed out.

  Caleb let out a small smile, running a hand down his Pokémon rough hide as he joined him at the captured square. “Good job, Gale.” The Sharpedo let out a pleased growl at that, more like a house-cat than a predator. “Figured it out already, Nebula?” he turned back to his other team-member.

  “Crossing to the other side is how we win. Or escape.” Blaine’s voice was so casual it nearly made Celeste jump. He just shrugged. “It’s pretty obvious.”

  Nebula buzzed sharply. “You need to consider the alternatives before making such a claim.”

  Blaine lifted an eyebrow. “Did you consider the alternatives?”

  “Of course!”

  “And?”

  Nebula faltered. “…Well, yes. Crossing seems to be our way out.”

  Blaine’s expression was unreadable.

  Nebula, almost sheepish, added, “But I don’t think we can just run for it without being chased down.”

  Celeste followed her gaze as the last remaining Fennekin took another step forward. It wasn’t far from a promotion now.

  And really, neither was she.

  Well, kind of.

  “There’s a Rapidash in my way,” she muttered to Nebula. “It can’t reach me yet, but I can’t get to the other side either.”

  Before Nebula could respond, Caleb cut in. “Hab, line up with this little one.”

  Celeste blinked. Was he seriously that focus on having more battles?

  “Sorry,” Caleb added, at least pretending to acknowledge them. “I just think we should take this thing out before it gets promoted to a problem.”

  Nebula let out an exasperated buzz. “Well, you should’ve asked me first.”

  Clearly.

  Because just as Caleb’s Pokémon reached his new square, the Delphox Queen began to move again.

  Celeste’s stomach dropped. She’d almost forgot this was still a problem.

  The opposing Queen stepped forward—straight for Hab.

  Meanwhile, Nebula turned her swirling gaze back to her trainer. “Risk and reward, Caleb. I thought you were paying attention.”

  Gale, the Sharpedo, growled at these words, shifting uneasily.

  But Caleb? Caleb didn’t even blink.

  “Hab can take that Delphox.”

  —*——*—

  “I don’t understand… We planned for a Delphox,” Nebula murmured, swirling eyes wide as the dust from the latest clash settled—Mystical Fire crashing into Shadow Ball. The flames and dark energy crackling and spread all over the field on impact.

  Celeste barely heard her, but Nebula kept going.

  “It was a good plan. For Blaine’s gym… he has a few Delphox on rotation for six-to-eight badge challengers,” the bug continued, almost to herself. “I remember. The crux of it was the staff. Without it, Delphox can’t properly focus.”

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  None of that mattered.

  Not if Hab was already losing.

  And badly.

  He kept reaching for the staff, aiming bursts of sand, stretching his body, trying to latch onto the thing that was supposed to be his win condition. But Delphox was too fast, too controlled, too precise.

  And every second that passed, Hab took more hits.

  Another Shadow Ball surged, and the space between the two Pokémon erupted in a burst of fire and psychic energy so violent that it nearly took Caleb with it. He staggered back, bracing—but Gale was faster. With a snap of its jaws, the Sharpedo conjured a wave of water, slicing through the flames that almost reached his trainer. The fire hissed into smoke, and when it finally cleared, the battlefield glowed red-hot with jagged slivers of glass, reflecting the flickering light all over them.

  And Hab? Hab was the one who got glassed this time around. Not in a prison like he made before, but the lower part of his body had melted together into solid silica.

  Caleb cursed under his breath. “Let go.”

  Hab shuddered, a bone-deep, spectral wail escaping as his shifting sands trembled unevenly. He didn’t try to break the glass. Didn’t even try to fight the pain. He simply severed the trapped part of his body. The trapped half collapsed inward into the glassy shell, crumbling into lifeless, hollowed-out sand that shivered, then faded, like echoes of something long since dead.

  And what remained of the ghost was smaller. Thinner.

  Weaker.

  The Delphox didn’t even blink at that and before Caleb could issue another command, it moved.

  It took a single step toward the remains of Hab’s glassed body. Then a kick that shattered the brittle shell left behind by Hab beneath its foot, splintering into a glittering spray of fractured glass.

  And then, without hesitation, it took another step forward.

  Celeste barely had time to wince before the fire-type lifted its staff, shimmering with flame and something deeply, disturbingly psychic.

  Caleb had already opened his mouth to command something—Nebula whispered to Celeste that it was a combination of Sandstorm and Shore Up to rebuild Hab’s body—but they were too late.

  “Keep your distance, or you won’t heal.” Nebula broadcasted the thought straight into Caleb’s mind.

  His jaw clenched. “Hab, back! Keep moving!”

  And the poor ghost tried.

  His form scattered, reformed and scattered again, each time slower than the last. But even at full speed, a fox is faster than a pile of sand holding itself together by sheer force of will.

  Before Hab could fully solidify, Delphox flicked its staff like a goddamned fairy godmother waving her wand. And—

  BOOM.

  Celeste didn’t manage to keep her eyes open as the explosion swallowed Hab whole.

  For a moment, sand whipped wildly in the air.

  But it wasn’t an attack.

  It was Hab himself.

  His towers crumbled. His body collapsed into a small, shrinking dune. The dark aura of his ghostly presence flickered.

  And then—snuffed out.

  Hab was gone.

  First from the battlefield.

  Then, finally, Caleb recalled what was left of him, murmuring something about not worrying. After all, ghosts always found a way of lingering.

  —*——*—

  Lahar heaved himself upright, letting his chipped mask drop slightly over his snout. His teeth, barred, angry and pointy, stifled the growl beneath it. He could barely walk without wobbling, but he moved nonetheless, forming a snaky L of soot as he dragged the bone behind himself.

  Blaine tried to stop him, of course. But when it was all said and done, the fire ghost seemed dead set in avenging his brethren. Once he reached the same line as Delphox, even though he could not attack it himself, he lifted the bone club, taunting.

  Celeste pursed her lips. That didn’t seem wise.

  But Delphox simply flicked an ear dismissively and stayed in place.

  Instead, hooves cracked sharply against the board, pulling Celeste’s attention sideways. There was only one Pokémon left that could make this sound. It was the Rapidash who was on the move. Thank Arceus for the Knight’s weird moves. Otherwise, the fire horse would’ve gone straight to her. Instead, it turned sideways and simply positioned itself to get Celeste on the next move.

  “Come on, weren’t I low reward?” she said, glancing at Shy. It didn’t take much to know her new ghostly friend could not take this Rapidash. She gulped a breath. “Nebula?”

  “Just move forward,” Orbeetle said, scanning the entire board and the possibilities ahead. And so, with another deep breath, Celeste moved out of danger… for now.

  She stood right in front of the last row, and where the horse had previously been. That gave her hope. And dread. Despite no one having taken the time to stop and deal with feelings, Ariana had still vanished when she reached the end of the board. And no one really knew if that was actually the way out or something more horrible than this game. And even more so, Celeste had no idea if she would also be teleported right away, whenever she reached the end.

  If not… Well…

  She glanced at the Rapidash again.

  If not, then there wouldn’t be moves left to run, and she’d be stuck in a fight Shy couldn’t win.

  Celeste swallowed, braced her shoulders, and forced herself to sound casual. “Would you like to share your next plan, Nebula? Like, fast?”

  But the Orbeetle just hummed distractedly, lost in calculations and god knows what else. Celeste was beginning to think Nebula enjoyed suspense and the control she had over this game just a bit too much. Still, there was not much to do until the opposing team moved.

  And the piece that finally did it… was Delphox. Again.

  This time it took a few steps forward towards Lahar, who already had his bone club in hand and fire in soul—even though his body could barely take it. But no fight came. Lahar’s fire move fizzled out before it left his square, and when the Delphox stopped, unbothered, it wasn’t challenging his position, but just beside him.

  It seemed almost cruel.

  But it wasn’t cruel. It was calculated.

  Like Nebula kept saying, the Unown had rules. And in this game, it was all about risk and reward.

  Once Delphox stopped, it looked a few paces ahead… aiming for Blaine. Because yeah. Why waste yourself fighting a Knight, when the King was just there?

  Caleb stiffened at that, eyes just as measuring as Nebula’s. “I can reach it,” he said in a low voice. The certainty he had before seemed to falter after he lost his Palossand. “I-I can reach the Delphox,” he kept going, and his Sharpedo snarled, eyes almost bloodthirsty, as if begging permission to tear something apart. So, steadying himself, Caleb leaned forward and… didn’t move.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Nebula snapped at him, pulling her trainer back with thought alone. “You’re staying right there where you’re safe,” she said, and then added. “That last Fennekin won’t move if you don’t, and we like that.”

  “I’m better off if I’m taking down the Delphox,” Caleb protested mildly.

  But again, Nebula just buzzed with impatience, bobbing up and down. “Yes, but then we’d have a Braixen—or worse—attacking us instead of a Fennekin staying put. Trust me on this.”

  “I am the trainer, you know…” Caleb muttered, though he didn’t budge.

  “Well, trainer. Watch out for this next battle,” Nebula said, making Caleb jump back in surprise.

  Without even waiting for an okay from him, the Orbeetle began moving, zipping right to… to the Rapidash! Celeste just stared at the bug’s shell, glittering brightly under the firelight, and her swirling eyes, for once not analytical, but… kind.

  “Y-you’re fighting it for me?” she couldn’t help but say.

  “Oh, hardly fighting, I will just outsmart it like usual,” Nebula buzzed.

  With that, she turned to the Rapidash, whose fire already blazed around its hooves as it galloped to her. Nebula spun upwards, dodging flames by mere centimetres, before unleashing a dizzying flash of psychic light. It struck like a neon explosion, leaving Rapidash wobbling confusedly on the spot.

  She seemed pretty sure of herself.

  So much so that when Nebula dipped again, she did a flourish before launching intricate patterns that rapidly devolved into impossible spirals and optical illusions. Celeste guessed this was some elaborate version of Confusion of Confuse Ray.

  But it backfired.

  The Rapidash lit its body on fire and exploded outward, in a reckless charge to Nebula. The poor Orbeetle barely let out a “Wait, what?” before she got lurched out to the edges of the square they were battling out at. Nebula hovered up, glancing sideways to her trainer.

  “I might actually need your eyes on this,” the bug said, not even wincing at the horrible burn on her side.

  Caleb nodded. “This was Flare Blitz,” he said. “So it’s injured too—Up!” The change in phrase was abrupt, but Nebula teleported up in the same second Rapidash came down with a horn attack to her position. Then, without waiting, the trainer added, “It’s stance! Rapidash is going for another Flare Blitz. You know what to do.”

  How they switched gears so quickly was beyond Celeste, but Nebula dipped down again, and stood rather stupidly in front of the Rapidash until… it hit a reflective barrier full force! The barrier broke down, but the Rapidash crashed hard into it, and in the second it slowed, the Orbeetle fired a last Psybeam that made the horse go poof like all the other pieces.

  One less Pokémon on the board!

  They should celebrate. Half of Celeste’s friends were celebrating. However, as soon as the opposing Fennekin Pawn took another not so harmless step ahead, Celeste noticed her very badly injured bug buddy hovering a few squares away.

  “…Nebula??” she asked.

  But the Orbeetle just nodded at her and kept moving until she reached Blaine’s side. Or rather, until she was in the line of attack of the Delphox.

  —*——*—

  “I—I don’t understand what you’re doing,” Caleb called, eyes darting wildly when he finally noticed Nebula’s advance.

  Nebula’s wings clicked, dismissive. “It’s the usual. I’m the setup.”

  “You’re burned!” he shouted back.

  A crickety sound came from Nebula, a little like a chuckle, but Celeste found it a little sad too. It only lasted a bit, though. She cut it off sharply when Delphox took a step forward, lifting its staff up like it was made of metal and not wood.

  “I… I actually don’t know if I can win this fight. Probably not anymore…” she said. “But you know this, too. Sometimes a fight is just about buying time, and doing more damage. The Marowak can finish this off if I play it right. The other way around would be too dangerous for Blaine.”

  Caleb’s foot slammed against the board, sending up a plume of soot. “Gale could fight! He’s fresh. You know he could win.”

  Nebula’s shiny wings twitched and her voice turned softer, vibrating warmly through their heads. “You humans are so fragile. But so precious too. And us, Pokémon, we heal better, and we can escape to our Pokéballs.”

  She paused, staring into nothing for a moment before she rose a shimmering barrier of psychic energy around herself. For a heartbeat, when the firelight hit it just right, Celeste saw Nebula’s swirling eyes reflected there, slowly swirling like ripples on a pond.

  A stupid part of her wanted to reach forward, grab Nebula, shake some sense into her. But there was no way she could leave her square. So, the moment the Delphox raised its staff, Celeste squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see this battle play out.

  “Ohh, you should have a little more faith in me,” Nebula said in her head.

  Heat washed over Celeste’s skin, followed by an insect’s piercing screech, so sharp and bitter it made her bones quiver. She pressed her eyelids tighter, angry tears pricking her lashes.

  Risk and reward.

  That’s Nebula had said this game was all about. But it wasn’t quite that, was it?

  This was about sacrifice.

  “You shouldn’t be sad that Pokémon are willing to fight for you.” Nebula’s voice whispered directly into her mind, and somehow Celeste knew this was for her alone.

  She tried to push the voice away. But when she did, she thought of Pat, who put himself in harm’s way to protect her. And Rebel, who fought for Ariana. And Lahar, barely standing, yet ready to burn himself to embers for Blaine.

  And now Nebula…

  A buzz, loud as a battle cry, ripped through the battlefield, shaking the chessboard itself, sending embers skittering into the air.

  Celeste forced her eyes open.

  Nebula wasn’t down. Not yet.

  And instead of keeping her full focus on the battle, she kept on talking to Celeste. “I looked inside your mind, you know? Couldn’t help myself. That wrongness I saw in you when we first met, it’s curious. I was curious. So I followed the thread…”

  Celeste gaped. “Nebula, this really isn’t—”

  But the bug, skittering away from a fire blast, ignored her. “I found something wonderfully stubborn in you. Not really what I was looking for, but wonderful all the same. Something bright and loud that refuses to sit quietly. A defiance. So great that I thought, ‘well this girl can challenge the threads of fate itself’. And then I saw it. How time and again, you dive into danger, reckless and fierce, so your friends don’t have to.”

  A sob stuck in Celeste’s throat.

  Nebula let out another crickety chuckle. “Did you honestly believe you wouldn’t inspire others around you to do the same?”

  Celeste opened her mouth. Closed it. There were no words. Not for this.

  And then an explosion.

  The battle was still raging.

  Fire erupted, shattering another of Nebula’s psychic barrier like it was made of glass, casting the battlefield in chaotic streaks of light. The Orbeetle tumbled through the air, struggling to stabilise herself. A flicker of green aura danced over her body as she hovered shakily. Recovering. And most importantly, preparing for the Delphox’s next move.

  The fox lunged, staff blazing brightly. Nebula braced, catching the strike within that shimmering green aura. Which crawled up their opponent’s body. Celeste watched, mesmerised, as Delphox recoiled. Whatever bug-type trickery Nebula had conjured had startled even the Unown’s pawn.

  Nebula seized her chance, launching herself forward with a buzzing shriek. A sound like a hundred Nincada screeching all at once. Delphox staggered, gripping its head, but didn’t fall.

  “We Pokémon fight,” Nebula’s mental voice whispered once more, weaker now, flickering, “because we choose to. You all do well to remember that.”

  Delphox gathered itself, eyes blazing darkly, and swung the flaming staff in a final, furious arc. The world seemed to hold itself steady as the weapon struck home. Nebula spun, drifting downward gently, wings twitching weakly before going still.

  Caleb’s voice cracked across the battlefield. “Nebula!”

  But the Orbeetle lay motionless, her vibrant colours dimmed beneath drifting smoke and ash, and her eyes, those swirling, ever-moving spirals, barely flickered open.

  And yet, impossibly, she managed a nod. A small, knowing gesture.

  Then, in a flash of red light, she was gone. Back to the safety of her Pokéball.

  And for the first time in a long while, Celeste head felt hollow. Like there was a missing piece in the shape of a voice. She swallowed hard. The space in her mind where Nebula had been whispering and buzzing and thinking too fast for anyone else to keep up was suddenly, jarringly, silent.

  “Our move.” It was Blaine who filled that horrible silence.

  Lahar simply cracked his neck in response. He rolled his shoulder and adjusted his grip on his club. Then, step by step, he advanced.

  Slower than before. Weaker. But not that weak.

  The Delphox turned to face him, its staff flickering dangerously in its grasp. It was still reeling, still disoriented from Nebula’s final Bug Buzz, and that was all the Marowak needed.

  With a final, furious arc—almost like the ghost wanted to prove himself stronger—the bone cleaved through the air.

  Delphox tried to defend. But its staff snapped.

  The fire fox froze. Or it seemed like that.

  Then—gone.

  The Delphox disintegrated into nothing, vanishing in a swirl of scattered embers.

  Lahar threw back his head and roared. Not just in victory, but in something wilder.

  The battle was over.

  Finally.

  …Or was it?

  —*——*—

  Only the little Fennekin Pawn remained.

  It stood alone on the far end of the board, tail flicking, ears perked, eyes glowing faintly.

  “So…” Celeste glanced toward the edge of the board, so close now. “Do we—I mean, do I just… go?”

  A step forward, and this twisted game might finally end. Or so she hoped. She really, really hoped.

  But it wasn’t their turn.

  The little remaining Fennekin shuffled forward instead, paws tapping gently ahead. One step closer to its own promotion. Celeste watched it, wondering if maybe stopping it first would be better. But no one was quite in range.

  Not that this stopped the angrier of her teammates.

  From the side, a low growl rumbled. Lahar stumbled forward, eyes blazing with the prospect of another battle. He gripped the bone club tighter, determined to reach the Fennekin despite Blaine telling him this was quite enough. Square by square, the fiery ghost dragged himself to the edge of his allowed movement.

  And there he stopped.

  Waiting.

  Because there was only one possible move now.

  Fennekin would reach the last row and be promoted—whatever it meant for it. And when it did, it’d be in range for both Lahar and Caleb with his Sharpedo to get it.

  They all stood by in silence. Until finally, the Pawn made use of its turn.

  It would’ve been nice if it’d just disappeared like Ariana.

  But nice things didn’t happen in this deranged house.

  The Fennekin didn’t disappear. It burst into flames. Celeste recoiled, shielding her eyes as the tiny shape blurred in golden firelight, shifting and stretching. Evolution, rapid and impossible, took place in heartbeats.

  And when the flames withdrew, there stood not a Braixen, but another Delphox Queen, as impassive as the last.

  Lahar snarled, swinging his club at it.

  But, angry as the Marowak was, Caleb, who’d just lost his Pokémon, was angrier. And he didn’t waste time barking. He moved forward without even recalling his Sharpedo, and before another step, he commanded water and rain, and for all the fire to finally be snuffed out.

  His Pokémon simply howled in agreement, and so echoed a chilling, watery cry that pierced the suffocating, smoky air. In an instant, clouds bloomed above, spreading like spilled ink across that living room ceiling. Rain lashed down with unnatural speed, soaking the board, turning ash to mud, and fire to steam.

  “What in Moltres’ name are you doing?” Blaine shouted through the sudden downpour.

  Caleb’s response was calm, almost resigned. “Someone needs to deal with it. Only then we’ll be truly free. And I’m the only one fresh enough. Plus, double advantage… am I right?”

  He didn’t wait for another word. Nor did the Delphox.

  Across the board, it stared blankly upward at the rain, watching the droplets dance and scatter off its fur. Then, slowly, it raised its staff. With a bang, the fire blazed anew, burning too hot this time to be bothered by the water.

  If Nebula was here, she’d say this was impossible. A newly evolved Pokémon should not be so at ease with its new powers… Or maybe Nebula would say nothing at all, because this was not a real Pokémon.

  Celeste barred her teeth and shook her head.

  Nebula wasn’t here. And devoid of logic, the fire kept burning.

  The Delphox Queen stepped forward, fire trailing behind it like a procession. Caleb stayed put, soaking wet, waiting patiently until the board beneath Gale was flooded enough for the shark Pokémon to start moving.

  “Aqua Jet,” he said, voice as steady as his stance. Celeste could see Nebula’s Pokéball still tight between his fingers.

  Gale obliged with a violent burst of water, spiralling forward like… like a torpedo with teeth. But it didn’t matter. The Delphox twisted aside effortlessly, fire swirling around it like all this was nothing.

  “Don’t stop,” Caleb snapped. “Pivot. Use the puddles. Then—Skull Bash.”

  The Sharpedo didn’t falter. Water churned around it, spinning like a top, redirecting Gale midair. Celeste had no idea a fish out of water could do this, yet there Gale was, launching again. This time colliding head-on with the Queen’s newly conjured flames.

  Water met fire. Steam billowed, engulfing both Pokémon instantly.

  “Caleb, get back!” Blaine shouted, suddenly. “You’re too close!”

  But Caleb didn’t budge, standing steady only a square away from the battle.

  Celeste clenched her fists. “Can you see if they are okay, Shy?” she tried, but her ghost just stared at her with their big yellow eyes.

  Then—

  The Delphox shrieked.

  Not a cry of victory. A howl, beckoning even more fire. This time of the wonky, purplulish, mystical kind. So much that the rain fizzled out before it reached the floor, and the steam began to swirl into shapes so strange Celeste doubt any of them were meant to understand.

  Caleb, now more or less in view again had and an unreadable look in his face, and his knuckles, grabbing a Pokéball so tight were rigid and tense. Was this still Nebula’s ball?

  His shark was being fried.

  Was he about to recall him? If so then he’d be—No. This can’t be.

  But Caleb took what looked like a steadying breath and yelled another command.

  “Destiny Bond.”

  Celeste glanced frantically at Blaine, whose eyes were eyes wide and dark.

  “W-what’s Destiny Bond?” she asked after a beat. Nothing seemed to be happening, after all.

  “Mutually assured destruction,” the Gym Leader muttered in response.

  The Delphox Queen, on its part, lunged forward, eyes blazing even more wildly, flame and steam weaving together around it like madness had taken hold.

  “Caleb, that thing won’t care. It’s not real enough for that,” Blaine tried, louder. But Caleb? He didn’t seem to care anymore, either.

  He stood right behind his Pokémon, Pokéball tight in his hand. He waited for a breath, then, “Secret Power,” he said, not even raising his voice.

  But… what about Destiny Bond? Did Celeste miss it?

  She squinted toward the battle again, and a ball of blue energy had built on top of Sharpedo. And it build and build until Delphox finally got close. Then he unleashed it.

  The battlefield trembled beneath them, and a fireball collided directly with Sharpedo’s attack, which still kept growing somehow.

  Then—

  Boom.

  An explosion tore through the chessboard, so loud it deafened. For a fleeting moment, Celeste swore she glimpsed the bright flash of a Pokéball beam.

  Had Caleb recalled Gale?

  When silence finally settled, the steam thinned, and rain turned into misty drizzle. Celeste forced herself to look at where Caleb was.

  Except…

  Nothing remained.

  No Delphox. No Gale.

  No Caleb.

  The board was empty, squares glistening softly with rainwater, quiet as if there had never been any battle at all.

  Celeste stared, breaths catching painfully in her chest. The Pokémon who lost were back in their Pokéballs. Even Pat, who was badly hurt, was sort of fine. Ariana had disappeared, but they would soon follow to wherever she’d gone.

  But…

  Caleb…

  It felt like forever passed before anyone said a thing. When someone did, it was Blaine, suddenly standing at her side. She didn’t even see him move.

  “We can’t stay here,” he said softly, placing a hand on her back and nudging her forward to the last row. “It’s your turn to get promoted.”

  Celeste swallowed, blinked through tears, and nodded once. No words. No arguments.

  She was so tired.

  And so angry.

  Fuji… he had to pay for all that.

  Somehow, she’d make him pay.

  One trembling step forward onto the last square.

  As soon as her foot landed, reality folded inward. The board twisted on itself and colours bled together in dizzying patterns that shouldn’t have existed. Celeste was falling upwards, sideways, nowhere and everywhere all at once.

  For the first time, it hardly shocked her.

  The game was over.

  And ending the madness was all that mattered.

  Final bit of the game:

  Oof this was far too hard to write for whatever reason. It seemed amazing when I made my the chess diagram a few weeks ago, but I probably made it too long going to all the battles. That and and I, never wrote this many battles back to back. Plus, for an actual battle and for those scenes where there is a whole chaos of stuff happening, I feel like it's more dynamic. When writing this one since I made it so the battles were sort of self contained, it felt more rigid towards the end. I tried to mix it up a bit, so hopefully it was still fun though.

  Anyway, the next few chapters were incredibly easy to write. So yay! Got my buffer again. Since I missed last week's upload, I'm planning to post Saturday.

  Next Chapter: Curiouser and curiouser

  Artwork of the Day - Double advantages...

  Am I right?