Austin raised an eyebrow as he read through the camping guidebook. It wasn't the usual advice about setting up tents or cooking over a fire—it was something he hadn't given much thought to: clothing. The section emphasized how often novice trainers underestimated the importance of proper attire, especially those tackling the gym circuit.

  What really caught his attention, though, was a particular statistic:

  Approximately 80% of novice trainers fail against the first gym leader.

  He paused, letting the weight of that number sink in. Eighty percent. He could believe it. Brock hadn't been the pushover from the anime—no, the real Brock was a wall, literally and figuratively. Without all the prep and scouting he'd done beforehand, Austin knew he would've been just another rookie crushed under Brock's Onix.

  As the memory of that battle surfaced, a familiar sound snapped him out of his thoughts.

  "Eevee! Vee!"

  Austin glanced down to see his Eevee gnawing at its paw, looking thoroughly annoyed. He set the book aside and crouched down. "What's wrong, buddy?"

  Eevee raised his paw, exposing the soft pads. The fur around his toes had grown too long, tangling and irritating him. Austin sighed. "Alright, let's take care of this."

  Reaching into his grooming kit—something he'd organized with the same obsessive care as everything else—Austin pulled out a small trimmer. The soft hum filled the room as Eevee's ears twitched nervously.

  "Don't worry, Vee. I've got this," Austin said, his voice low and reassuring. Carefully, he took Eevee's paw and spread the toes apart, guiding the trimmer with precise movements. Eevee, to his surprise, stayed still, trusting him completely.

  A few minutes later, Austin turned off the trimmer and inspected his work. Perfect. No more stray hairs, no more irritation. He brushed away the clippings and patted Eevee on the head.

  "All done. How's that feel?"

  "Eevee!" Vee stretched his paw, then playfully batted Austin's hand.

  Austin chuckled, feeling pretty good about himself. But as his eyes flicked to the rest of the grooming kit, an idea formed.

  "Hmm…"

  Eevee instantly stiffened, sensing the shift in his trainer's expression.

  "That fur of yours is looking awfully fluffy," Austin said, a grin tugging at his lips.

  "Vee!" Eevee took a step back, eyeing the kit like it was a predator.

  "What? I'm not planning to test all this on you or anything."

  Eevee's skeptical glare said otherwise.

  "Come on," Austin coaxed, holding up a bottle of fur conditioner. "I'll even throw in a hot bubble bath."

  But Eevee was already darting toward the door, his little legs scrambling for an escape route—only to find it shut. Trapped, he turned back, betrayal written all over his face.

  Austin couldn't hold back a laugh. "There's no running from this one, buddy."

  As if on cue, Eevee reared up on his hind legs and let out a series of desperate cries. "Vee! Vee! Vee!"

  Austin burst into full-on villain mode, laughing theatrically. "Zehahahaha! It's too late! You're mine now!"

  Eevee, realizing there was no escape, resigned himself to his fate with a dramatic flop to the floor.

  Hours later, Austin strolled through the busy streets of Pewter City, trying not to laugh as Eevee trotted beside him. The little guy wore Austin's cap like a celebrity hiding from paparazzi, but the tension between them was palpable. Eevee kept shooting him heated glares, his pride clearly wounded.

  Austin bit his lip to stifle a laugh. Okay, maybe he had gone a little overboard with the grooming.

  He glanced down at Eevee again and winced. Okay, a lot overboard. The poor Pokémon looked like a half-plucked chicken. His fur had been trimmed so unevenly that the top of his head was practically bald.

  "Sorry about that," Austin said, trying to sound sincere, though his tone was undercut by the grin creeping across his face.

  Eevee's tail snapped up, smacking Austin's leg in retaliation.

  "Come on, it's not that bad," Austin teased. "Your fur will settle down eventually… I think."

  Eevee glared at him, ears twitching irritably.

  But before Austin could try to smooth things over, a gust of wind blew by, snatching the cap off Eevee's head. His freshly-shaven patch was exposed for the world to see.

  "Bald!"

  Austin turned to see a little kid pointing directly at Eevee, his face full of innocent amusement.

  "No, no bald here!" Austin stammered, scrambling to pick up the cap and slap it back on Eevee's head.

  "Bald!" the kid yelled again, louder this time.

  "Listen, kid," Austin muttered, crouching down to the kid's level. "You're bald, your daddy's bald—"

  Austin stopped mid-rant when the kid's eyes started welling with tears. Crap.

  And then, of course, the kid started bawling.

  Everyone was staring now.

  Smooth, Austin. Really smooth.

  Without another word, he grabbed Eevee, stuffed him into his backpack, and bolted.

  Later, Austin stepped into a small tailor shop tucked away on a quiet street. The warm, cozy space was lined with rolls of fabric in every texture and color imaginable. A Caterpie perched on the counter spun silk lazily, and an older man hunched over a sewing machine glanced up as Austin entered.

  "Yes?" the tailor asked, his hands never stopping their work.

  Austin pulled a bundle of fabric from his bag and set it on the counter. "I'm looking to have some clothes made. Out of this."

  The tailor's fingers brushed over the material, and his eyebrows rose. "High-grade," he muttered. "Waterproof, fireproof, scratch-resistant… Where'd you get it?"

  "Found it sealed up in an old army crate," Austin lied smoothly.

  The tailor nodded, seemingly satisfied. "What are you thinking?"

  "T-shirts, windbreakers, pants, gloves," Austin said.

  The tailor did some quick calculations. "5,000 Pokédollars. Two days."

  Austin handed over the money without hesitation. "Throw in a recommendation for a good Pokémon groomer, and you've got yourself a deal."

  The tailor scribbled an address on a slip of paper and handed it over.

  "Thanks," Austin said, tucking the paper into his pocket.

  As he stepped out of the shop, he glanced at the paper, then at his pack, where Eevee poked his head out just enough to glare at him.

  "Don't worry, buddy. We're getting this fixed."

  Eevee huffed but seemed to relax slightly.

  Austin sighed. "Next time, no DIY grooming. Lesson learned."

  A few minutes later, Vee sat stiffly in the oversized grooming chair, his little body almost swallowed by the massive seat. Austin could feel his partner's discomfort radiating off him.

  The groomer, a woman with cropped hair and a warm smile, approached. Her apron was stocked with grooming tools, each one promising to fix the disaster Austin had created. She gently ran her fingers through Vee's fur, inspecting the damage.

  "Looks like someone got a little… overzealous," she said, casting a playful smirk at Austin.

  He felt his face heat up. "Yeah, I might've gotten carried away."

  "Might've?" she teased, but her tone was kind. "Don't worry, I'll clean him up. We can trim the sides, even things out, and if he's feeling self-conscious, we could add a small faux fur piece to cover the patch."

  Austin glanced at Vee, whose twitching ears betrayed his nerves. "What do you think, buddy?"

  Vee hesitated but gave a small nod. Austin exhaled in relief. "That sounds great. Thanks."

  "Alright, let's get started." She fastened a tiny black cape around Vee, making him look like a miniature king about to have his royal locks styled. Vee didn't seem thrilled, but he settled into the chair.

  Austin moved to a seat nearby, keeping an eye on Vee. As he sat, something caught his attention. The guy next to him was hidden behind a massive broadsheet, the kind of oversized newspaper you'd expect in an old detective flick.

  When the paper lowered slightly, Austin's heart skipped a beat.

  Brock?

  Before Austin could say anything, a hand shot out, clamping over his mouth.

  "Talk. Outside," Brock said in a low voice, his face partially obscured by a pair of sunglasses and a fake mustache that fooled absolutely no one.

  Austin gave a quick nod, his mind racing. What was Brock doing here, and why all the secrecy?

  The moment they stepped outside, Brock scanned the area like they were fugitives.

  "You know," Austin said, breaking the silence, "the glasses and mustache combo? Not exactly a foolproof disguise."

  Brock blinked, momentarily thrown off. "What?"

  Austin jabbed a thumb toward the groomer inside. "Let me guess—you're here to get her number?"

  "What? No!" Brock said, his voice defensive, though the redness creeping into his face said otherwise.

  Austin raised an eyebrow. "You weren't going to hit on her?"

  "Yes! I mean—no! I wasn't!" Brock sputtered.

  Austin rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. "Alright, Casanova. So why the undercover act?"

  Brock mumbled something under his breath.

  "What?"

  "I wanted to see how professional grooming works," Brock said, louder this time, though he still looked embarrassed.

  Austin blinked. "You dragged me outside for that?"

  Without waiting for an answer, Austin turned and headed back inside, leaving Brock standing there.

  "Hey," Austin called to the groomer, who was meticulously working on Vee. "Mind if my friend watches? He's… curious about Pokémon grooming."

  Brock practically tripped over himself rushing back in. "I—uh—have a hobby as an amateur Pokémon breeder," he blurted, clearly panicking. "I wanted to see if grooming affects… uh… general health and habits. You know, for breeding purposes."

  The groomer smiled warmly, either unaware of or politely ignoring his awkwardness. "Of course! Feel free to observe."

  As she returned her attention to Vee, Brock let out a relieved sigh. Austin smirked, crossing his arms.

  "See? That wasn't so hard."

  Brock shot him a look but didn't respond, too focused on watching the groomer work. Vee, meanwhile, had relaxed under her skilled hands, his earlier nerves melting away.

  "You're so blunt."

  Austin swung his legs back and forth in the chair. "You should be thankful," he shot back. "Otherwise, she might've thought you were up to something sketchy."

  "Yeah… you're right."

  Austin grinned, clearly enjoying himself.

  The groomer stepped away to grab a piece of faux fur for Vee, leaving them alone.

  "Brock," Austin said, "what's with the disguise?"

  "I didn't want people recognizing me."

  "Why?"

  Brock hesitated, his jaw tightening. He didn't seem eager to answer, so Austin decided to push, just a little. "You're worried your siblings will find out you like breeding more than battling, aren't you?"

  Brock's head snapped toward him, eyes wide in surprise.

  "How did you…?"

  "Just a hunch."

  Brock let out a quiet sigh, his gaze falling to his hands. "It's not that I hate battling. It's just… I have other passions."

  Austin nodded, staying silent.

  "Everyone is allowed to have passions."

  The quiet between them wasn't uncomfortable.

  "If you don't mind me asking, how are things going with your dad?"

  The question made Brock stiffen immediately.

  "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

  Brock shook his head. "No, it's fine. You're not exactly a stranger to my family drama."

  Austin let out an awkward chuckle. "Fair."

  The silence hung heavy between them until Brock finally spoke again. "My father's… been trying, I guess."

  Austin watched as Brock twisted the fake mustache in his hand, his gaze distant. The way his fingers fidgeted told Austin more than Brock's words ever could.

  "Do you like it?"

  "No," Brock said immediately.

  Austin gave him a moment before asking, "Do you want him to be part of your life?"

  Brock didn't answer right away. His brows furrowed as he stared at the floor, his fingers stilling. "I don't know."

  "What about your siblings?" Austin pressed. "Do you want him to be part of their lives?"

  Brock paused. His expression shifted, softening. "Yes."

  The admission hung in the air, and the two sat in silence. This time, the quiet felt heavier, as if Brock was wrestling with something too big to put into words.

  "You're weird."

  Austin hummed. "I've been told that before."

  "You're way more mature than any ten-year-old trainer I've ever met," Brock continued, his tone casual but with an edge of curiosity. "And you're clearly a strong trainer. But you're still hanging around Pewter. Why?"

  Austin caught the faint undercurrent in Brock's voice.

  Was it suspicion that he was Bag Boy? Austin knew people were aware of his Pokémon roster, with the exception of Sandslash. So, was Brock genuinely suspicious, or was he just overthinking it? Maybe Brock was simply trying to rattle him. Either way, Austin kept his tone light.

  "Well," he said casually, "my Pokémon and I are rock climbing."

  "Rock climbing?"

  "Yeah. Thought it'd be fun," Austin replied. "Plus, I wanted to take the hard route to Cerulean City through the Mt. Moon range."

  "Why bring that kind of trouble on yourself?"

  "I guess that's one way to look at it. But I see it differently. The difficult path? That's the one worth taking. Overcoming it makes you stronger." The boy paused, his gaze meeting Brock's. "Maybe you should see it that way too."

  The difficult path… huh?

  Brock's thoughts turned to Flint. The anger he carried towards the man had been a constant companion, something he'd held onto for years. But this boy's words lingered in his mind.

  Did he really want to carry that anger forever?

  Flint was trying. He couldn't deny that. And while admitting it felt like a betrayal of the hurt Flint had caused, Brock knew one thing for sure: he didn't want his siblings to grow up hating their father. They deserved better than that.

  But forgiving Flint? Letting him back into their lives? That felt like the hardest thing Brock could imagine. It wasn't just about letting go of the grudge—it was about trusting someone who had already let them down.

  Could he do that?

  Brock sighed, running a hand through his hair. Maybe this strange boy was right. Maybe the hard path really was the one worth taking.

  But it wasn't going to be easy.

  Seeing Brock so tense, Austin decided it was time to have some fun. "Hey," he said, leaning in with a grin. "You wanna play a game?"

  "What kind of game?"

  "The next person who walks into this salon? We try to get their number. Whoever gets it wins $100."

  Brock raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You've got $100?"

  "Details, details. You in?"

  Brock sighed. "Fine. But the master," he pointed to himself with mock grandeur, "gets to go first, kiddo."

  "Deal," Austin said, almost too eagerly.

  Just then, the door opened with a cheerful ring of the bell. Both of them turned to look—and Brock froze.

  It wasn't some cute girl, or even someone neutral like a delivery guy. No. It was an old woman. She was wearing a floral dress, a gigantic sun hat that looked like it could double as a satellite dish, and a pair of glasses so thick they could probably set Geodude on fire.

  "Go get her, master," Austin said, grinning like a devil.

  Brock groaned, glaring at Austin, who immediately started making noises. "Bawk-bawk! Master of love, are you scared?"

  With a grunt of pure suffering, Brock stood up, his pride dragging him forward like a condemned man walking to the gallows. Every step felt like a lifetime. He turned to the old woman, whose eyes squinted at him through her comically oversized glasses.

  "P-please," Brock stammered, forcing a smile so awkward it looked like his face might crack. "Tell me your name… so I may emblazon it upon my heart."

  The old woman blinked, tilting her head slightly. And then, with a delighted smile, she placed a hand over her chest. "Oh my! My looks still got it, huh? You flatter me, sonny. But… I'm sorry." She leaned in conspiratorially, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear. "You look a little too young for my taste. Maybe come back in 30 years, hmm?"

  Brock wanted to die. His face turned an impressive shade of green as the woman gave him a playful wink and shuffled over to the counter to check on her granbull's grooming appointment.

  Meanwhile, Austin completely lost it. He doubled over, wheezing and clutching his sides, laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his face. "Oh, Jesus, I can't—HA!—I can't breathe!" he managed between gasps. "Brock, buddy, your love life is a rom-com waiting to happen!"

  Brock stormed back to the chairs and practically threw himself into one, grabbing the nearest newspaper and burying his face in it. "I hate you," he muttered, his voice muffled.

  Austin was still gasping for air, collapsing into the chair next to him. "No, no, you don't," he wheezed. "You love me for this moment. Admit it."

  "I'm never forgiving you."

  The doorbell jingled again, and Brock immediately perked up. His chance for revenge had arrived. He folded the newspaper and waited eagerly to see who would walk in. There was no way Austin was about to succeed where he had failed.

  But then Brock's smirk froze.

  The person who walked in wasn't an old woman. Or a middle-aged couple. Or some harmless nobody. No, it was a girl.

  A very cute girl.

  She was chewing bubble gum, her Meowth strutting confidently beside her like it owned the place. She had this effortlessly cool vibe, like she'd stepped straight out of a music video. Her leather jacket and ripped jeans made her look way too stylish for this tiny grooming salon.

  "Your turn."

  Austin took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. I've survived Team Rocket. I've survived Sird. How hard can this be?

  He stood up, his heart pounding. He could feel Brock's eyes boring into him, waiting for him to crash and burn.

  "H-hey," Austin said, walking up to the girl who looked to be about a year or so older than him.

  She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow as she blew a bubble, then popped it with a sharp snap. Her Meowth gave him a look that said, Who's this clown?

  Austin decided honesty was his best bet. "So… me and my friend are playing this challenge. Whoever gets someone's number wins $100. It's my turn, and, uh… can you pretend to laugh at my jokes and give me a fake number?"

  The girl raised an eyebrow, her gum snapping again. "You'll split the $100 with me?"

  "Uh… yeah. Sure. Fifty-fifty."

  She giggled, clearly amused, and asked, "Got a pen?"

  Austin shook his head. "Nah, just pretend you're whispering the number." He leaned in, and she whispered a string of numbers into his ear, her Meowth watching with mild disinterest.

  Straightening up, Austin walked back to Brock with the confidence of someone who just won the lottery. "Got her number," he said, deadpan.

  Brock's jaw dropped. "You what?"

  "I got her number," Austin repeated, crossing his arms smugly.

  Brock collapsed to his knees in mock despair, throwing his arms up dramatically.

  "Oh, cruel world, why have you forsaken me?"

  "Drama queen, party of one—sit down and zip it," the groomer called as she walked back in, holding a wig.

  Brock shuffled back to his seat, grumbling under his breath.

  Austin tried not to laugh as Brock turned to him, eyes wide with newfound respect. "Teach me your ways, master."

  Austin opened his mouth to reply, but the words caught in his throat. He'd been about to say something like, Why don't you join me on my journey? But he stopped himself, the thought hitting him like whiplash.

  Why the hell did I instinctively think that?

  Was it just the heat of the moment? Or… was it something else?

  Before he could dwell on it, a loud squeal pulled their attention back to Vee.

  The groomer was fussing over him, and—oh Arceus—Vee was wearing a wig.

  A long, flowing blonde wig.

  Austin stared, his brain struggling to process the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. Vee tilted his head dramatically, the wig's golden locks cascading like something out of a shampoo commercial.

  That was it. Austin burst out laughing. So did Brock. The absurdity of it all, after everything, was just too much.

  Vee struck a pose, his eyes sparkling as if to say, Aren't I fabulous?

  A minute later, after paying the groomer and collecting his bet money, Austin turned to Brock.

  "Looks like this is it," Austin said, pocketing the cash.

  "Yeah," Brock replied. "I hope to battle you again with my full team."

  "Me and my Pokémon would love that. Take care, Brock."

  "I'll stay here a little longer," Brock said, gesturing back to the groomer. "Still need to take note of those techniques."

  "And maybe hit on a girl."

  "Don't rub it in," Brock groaned.

  "Just play it cool, man. I'm sure you'll find someone eventually."

  Brock nodded.

  "And Brock," Austin said, his tone turning serious.

  "Hm?"

  "Second chances come after proof of change, not before," Austin said, his gaze steady. "Look for that in Flint. Then decide what's best for you and your siblings."

  "Thanks, kid, I'll think about it... Oh, and one more thing," Brock added, his voice dropping into a warning tone. "Try not to go through the mountain range. Security's tight—practically everything going in and out is being monitored by the authorities."

  Austin gave a small nod of understanding before extending his hand. Brock shook it firmly.

  As Austin turned to leave, a sharp whistle caught his attention. He turned back to see the girl he had approached earlier smirking.

  She held up a note, beckoning him over.

  Curious—and a little red-faced—Austin walked up to her. She handed him the note, and in exchange, he handed her her half of the bet money. As he unfolded the note, he read:

  You're funny. Call me.

  Austin glanced up, his cheeks heating up as the girl gave him a playful wink. What just happened? Austin thought. Back on Earth, his luck with girls was a solid zero. But apparently, here in this world, he'd inherited Ash's ridiculous dumb, cosmic-level luck.

  He barely had time to process it before Vee snatched the note right out of his hands.

  "Hey!" Austin shouted, lunging for the paper, but Vee already had it in his mouth. The little furball stared Austin down, his expression pure spite, and began chewing the note with exaggerated slowness.

  "You little—" Austin lunged again, but Vee bolted for the door, his fluffy tail wagging in mockery as he darted out of reach.

  The boy chased after Vee, not really caring about the number. Relationships weren't on his mind—he didn't care for them, not now. Maybe it was because he hadn't hit puberty yet, or maybe he just wasn't interested. All he wanted was to enjoy this journey, have fun with his Pokémon, and make the most of his adventure.

  Vee's paws shifted restlessly as he tiptoed through the void of his dream—a desolate shopping mall stretched endlessly before him, silent and suffocating. The air was thick, heavy with an unnatural chill, and his every step echoed back at him, magnified in the oppressive stillness.

  Shadows twisted on the grimy walls, distorted by the dim, flickering light that filtered weakly through dirt-caked windows. The abandoned stores yawned wide like dark mouths, their empty shelves stretching into nothingness. Vee's ears flicked at every faint sound—the slow drip of unseen water, the ghostly creak of the building settling.

  Then, he saw them: mannequins. They stood in rows, their faceless, featureless forms frozen mid-step. Blank and unblinking, they seemed to watch him. Vee froze, his fur bristling. For a long moment, the only sound was his shallow breathing.

  A cold breeze—or was it his imagination?—brushed against him, and his body tensed. He darted past the mannequins, quickening his pace, though the floor seemed to stretch endlessly before him.

  At last, he found himself near heavy curtains, their edges swaying slightly in the stagnant air. He pushed them aside hesitantly, the darkness beyond swallowing him whole.

  That was when he felt it—the snap of metal closing around his neck.

  "EVE!" Vee cried out, but his voice was small, drowned in the suffocating dark.

  A voice emerged from the blackness. Calm. Cold. Cruel.

  "Hold still," it murmured. "This is for a great cause."

  A shape materialized—first a shadow, then a figure in a blood-splattered lab coat. The latex gloves, the gleaming syringe filled with a sickly green liquid, the indifferent face of a scientist… It was all too familiar.

  Vee thrashed, desperate, his cries growing frantic. Human, save me!

  The needle pierced his skin.

  He screamed—

  And bolted upright.

  The nightmare shattered like glass, replaced by the dim light of the living room. Vee panted, his chest heaving as his wide eyes darted around. Furniture. The soft glow of the moonlight. The quiet breathing of his team. The gentle rise and fall of Pikachu's chest as the electric type slept soundly beside him on a pillow.

  He was safe.

  But the fear didn't leave him.

  His fur clung to him, damp with sweat. His heart felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest, and no matter how much he told himself it was just a nightmare, the lingering terror stayed, suffocating him.

  He glanced around the room, seeking the familiar shapes that had come to mean comfort: the worn couch, the faint creak of floorboards beneath him, the quiet hum of the minifridge. His gaze finally landed on Austin, sleeping soundly in the corner. The boy's breathing was steady, his face peaceful, unbothered by the weight of the world.

  Vee's heart ached at the sight.

  Why now? he wondered, his mind racing. He hadn't had these nightmares in weeks—not since Austin. Not since the warmth of a trainer who smiled for him, who told corny jokes to make him laugh, who made him feel, for the first time, safe.

  You stopped them, Human. So why now?

  His gaze shifted to Pikachu, curled up beside him. The faint scent of medicinal salve lingered in the air, a reminder of the nerve damage the electric type had suffered in Mt. Moon. Vee's stomach twisted.

  Pikachu had been hurt because of him.

  The entire team had been hurt because of him.

  And Vee? Vee was fine. Unscathed. The only one who walked away from that disaster without so much as a scratch.

  The thought made him feel sick.

  His eyes fell back to Austin, his trainer who was doing everything for them. Staying in Pewter longer than planned. Asking for favors. Strategizing ways around the mountain, all because of him. All because of Team Rocket's "special Eevee."

  Would any of this have happened if I wasn't here? Vee's heart clenched painfully. The question hung heavy in his mind, dark and suffocating.

  Would they be safer if I wasn't around?

  The thought came unbidden, sharp as a blade. He tried to push it away, but it clung to him, relentless. The memories of his past—of the lab, the pain, the experiments—swirled in his mind like a storm.

  Maybe I should leave. The words whispered to him, cruel and soft. If I left, they'd be safe. If I wasn't here… this wouldn't happen again.

  But his body refused to move.

  The idea of leaving twisted in his chest like a needle. He thought of the warmth of Austin's hand ruffling his fur. The sound of his teammates laughing. The way the small, broken pieces of him had slowly started to mend since he met them.

  He didn't want to leave.

  He loved them.

  He loved this place.

  He loved his trainer.

  And that realization made it so much worse.

  A single tear slipped down his cheek as he curled up tighter, his small frame trembling. He wanted to protect them. He wanted to stand by Austin's side. But the guilt weighed him down like chains, the fear that he was the source of their pain, their suffering.

  He closed his eyes, but the tears didn't stop.

  Why am I like this?

  And in the quiet, surrounded by the safety he didn't feel he deserved, Vee lay awake, silently begging for sleep that wouldn't come.

  Seymour the Crazy.

  That's what they called him. Not to his face, of course—no one had the guts—but he heard them. He always heard them. The smirks, the whispers, the dismissive glances as he walked through Pewter City. It was easier for them to mock him than to face the truth.

  Team Rocket.

  The name alone made his stomach churn. If they were targeting Mt. Moon, the Clefairy tribe was in grave danger. To them, Clefairy weren't guardians of moonlit secrets or the heart of Mt. Moon itself. They were a commodity. Cute faces with price tags. The thought made Seymour's blood boil.

  But anger couldn't fund a mission.

  Seymour's research grants had dried up long ago, and what little money he scraped together wasn't enough to hire the kind of trainers he needed—the reliable, battle-hardened kind with Pokémon in the seventh grade range. They were too expensive. Instead, he found himself here, standing outside the Pewter Pokémon League, clutching a handmade sign.

  "Hiring for a trek to Mt. Moon's heart, will pay 1000, who's ready to start?"

  A thousand Pokédollars wasn't much, but it was all he had.

  Most trainers passed by with a quick glance, their faces flashing with polite disinterest. Seymour tried his best to look approachable, but the hours dragged on, and with each rejection, his shoulders slumped a little further. The ones who did stop to ask never stayed long after he mentioned his plan.

  By late afternoon, Seymour was sitting on a bench, feeling the weight of failure pressing down on him. His sign leaned against his knee, limp in his grip. He was about to pack it up for the day when a shadow fell across him.

  He looked up.

  A young trainer stood there, his hood pulled low over his face, the black windbreaker with red accents looking worn but sturdy. His sleeves were patched, his rolled-up pants dusted with dirt from the road.

  The boy didn't speak at first, his eyes scanning the sign with quiet curiosity, his expression unreadable. Seymour shifted nervously, unsure if the trainer was mocking him or genuinely interested. Then Seymour noticed the Pikachu tucked snugly into a baby carrier across the boy's chest. It was lazily slurping from a ketchup packet, entirely unbothered by the world around it.

  Seymour chuckled despite himself.

  "Are you serious about this?"

  Seymour straightened up, nodding quickly—maybe too quickly. "Yes… yes, I am."

  The boy's gaze flicked to his Pikachu, who barely spared him a glance, then to the sign again. Seymour caught sight of a Rattata's tail sticking out of the boy's pocket, twitching in its sleep. What kind of team is this? Seymour wondered.

  "When do we start?"

  The question caught Seymour off guard. "You're… interested?"

  "Depends," the boy replied, his voice level. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

  Seymour hesitated, his hands tightening on the sign. His old habit of rhyming bubbled up, unbidden, as his nerves took hold. "Oh, straight to the point, quick to the task! Let's prepare, any questions you ask?"

  The boy raised an eyebrow. "How long?"

  Seymour blinked. "How long… until we're done?"

  "Yeah," the boy said flatly.

  "I need your help to capture a Clefairy and tag it."

  The boy's expression didn't change, but Seymour could see the suspicion brewing in his eyes. "Tag it?"

  "It's a tracking device," Seymour explained quickly, fumbling for the words. "It's harmless, I promise. Just a small attachment to monitor its movements. I'm not a poacher. I'm a scientist."

  He dug into his pocket, pulling out his identification card. His hands shook slightly as he held it up, the memory of countless accusations lingering in his mind. "Certified," he added, his words rhyming again despite himself. "I study, I track. That's a fact."

  The boy's eyes flicked between the card and the small tags Seymour had in his bag. Seymour braced himself for the inevitable: another dismissal, maybe even an accusation.

  But instead, the boy nodded. "I believe you."

  Relief washed over Seymour, so strong it nearly brought him to tears. "You do?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

  "Yeah," the boy said simply, adjusting the baby carrier as his Pikachu finished its ketchup.

  "I just had a quick question. Why does poaching exist? Can't they just use a Pokéball?"

  A valid question. One that caught Seymour off guard. Most trainers didn't think to ask that—they just accepted the reality of poaching as an ugly part of the world.

  "Well," Seymour began, "the answer is simply money. Pokéballs cost a lot. And not just that—raising and catching Pokémon ethically requires time and resources. For some, it's easier to poach and sell Pokémon on the black market. And… many newbie trainers get their first Pokémon from there, bought by their parents because it's cheaper than going out, buying a Pokéball, or paying for a Pokémon ranch."

  The boy nodded, his expression contemplative.

  There it is again, Seymour thought, observing the boy closely. That odd mix of maturity and youthful curiosity. Something about him seemed old beyond his years. But Seymour knew better than to ask questions; his task was risky enough without probing into his only ally's life.

  "Whenever you're ready."

  "Alright," Seymour managed, his own voice steadying at last. "Let's get going then."

  The route to the Mt. Moon tunnels was straightforward, but the security? That was a whole other story. After the Team Rocket incident, the Rangers weren't taking any chances. It wasn't long before Austin found himself standing in line, his stomach churning as he watched the thoroughness of the inspections. They weren't just checking for contraband or unregistered Pokémon—they were looking for anything out of place.

  He tugged the brim of his hood lower as the line crawled forward. The tension in the air was suffocating, the kind of quiet that came when everyone was too afraid to make a scene.

  "All Pokémon out for inspection!" barked one of the Rangers, a stocky man with a buzz cut and an expression that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

  Austin's fingers tightened around Pikachu's carrier. The electric-type, still half-asleep from the early start, lazily opened one eye and gave him an unimpressed look. The dried ketchup on his whiskers didn't help with the intimidation factor.

  "Nothing to worry about?" Austin muttered under his breath as he unzipped the carrier.

  Pikachu yawned and stretched before hopping onto his shoulder. He glanced around the line, seemingly unfazed by the tension, before swiping a paw over his face to clean his whiskers. He even had the audacity to flick Austin's ear with his tail, as if to say, Relax.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The burly Ranger arched a brow as Austin stepped forward, Pikachu sitting calmly on his shoulder. "Whiskers still messy?"

  "Breakfast got a little… enthusiastic."

  The Ranger didn't laugh. He held out a scanner—a sleek black device with a flashing red light—and ran it over Pikachu. The machine let out a soft beep, confirming the registration. The Ranger's face betrayed nothing as he jotted something down on his clipboard.

  "Next Pokémon," he grunted, gesturing for Austin to release the next member of his team.

  Austin grabbed Vee's Pokéball, releasing the Eevee in a flash of light. Vee immediately shook his head dramatically, the blonde wig fluttering like a superhero's cape.

  The Ranger froze. His expression didn't change, but the long pause as he stared at Vee spoke volumes. "Why is your Eevee wearing a wig?"

  Austin's laugh came out more awkward than he intended. "I… uh… I messed up while giving him a trim. The wig makes him feel better about himself."

  The Ranger's brow twitched. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like weirdo before turning the scanner on Vee.

  Austin had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping back. Relax. No need to stir the pot.

  The scanner beeped again, and the Ranger moved on to the paperwork.

  "Registered Pokémon: Pikachu and Eevee," the Ranger read aloud, his eyes narrowing slightly. He looked up, scrutinizing Austin for a moment longer than necessary.

  Austin kept his expression neutral, even as his mind raced. The rumors about a "special Eevee" stolen from Team Rocket were everywhere, growing more ridiculous by the day.

  "You're clear."

  Austin exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest loosening just a bit. He'd been careful, leaving Spearow and Rattata with Nurse Joy back in Pewter City to avoid any unnecessary questions. Less attention, fewer risks. Still, this felt like threading a needle with a Zubat swarm flying around his head.

  As he stepped past the checkpoint, the Ranger's voice barked at the next trainer in line. "All Pokémon out. No exceptions!"

  Austin glanced over his shoulder as he walked away, adjusting the straps on his bag. Security checks like this were going to become the norm, and he knew it. Team Rocket's takeover of Mt. Moon had shaken the entire region. The idea that an organized crime syndicate could hold such a critical location for so long was terrifying.

  And if the rumors about the Eevee were true—if it really was some kind of experiment—it was only going to get worse.

  He could already picture the headlines back home: Senate Hearings Demand Action Against Team Rocket, Enhanced Pokémon Threaten Global Stability, Mt. Moon Incident Sparks Fears of Organized Poaching Rings. The media loved to fan the flames, but underneath all the sensationalism, Austin knew there was real danger brewing.

  How is this world going to react to Mewtwo?

  As he stepped into the tunnel's mouth, the faint echoes of dripping water greeted him, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The cool air chilled his skin, but it was nothing compared to the weight on his mind.

  He glanced at Pikachu, who was busy picking at his teeth with a tiny claw, completely unfazed. Vee trotted beside him, still strutting like a movie star with his wig fluttering in the faint breeze.

  Seymour took a few extra minutes at the checkpoint, peppering the Rangers with questions about legal protocols and procedures. His nervous energy was palpable, fingers constantly twitching as if they couldn't decide whether to button or unbutton his coat.

  As they moved deeper into the tunnels, Austin noticed Seymour sneaking glances at him, his fidgeting growing more pronounced.

  "Do you do this often?"

  Austin raised a brow. "Do what?"

  "You have a multi-type team," Seymour clarified, though it was clear he was also fumbling for some kind of rhyme in his head.

  "Can you explain further?"

  "Most trainers focus on monotype teams," the scientist said, a bit stiffly. "It's easier—same diets, similar routines, standardized equipment. A multi-type team? It's more expensive. More complicated. Trainers don't usually bother unless they have a lot of resources."

  That actually made sense. Austin had never thought much about it before, assuming people stuck to monotypes out of preference.

  "Well," Austin said, "my sponsor is Professor Oak."

  Seymour nodded like that answer explained everything, though his nervous energy didn't seem to ease.

  Eventually, they reached a midpoint checkpoint deep in the tunnels. The scientist handed over more documents.

  A Ranger inspected the paperwork, nodded briskly, and motioned for them to pass.

  Once they were through, Seymour wasted no time pulling out a large, crinkled map from his coat. He pressed it against the rough tunnel wall, the paper crackling as he tried to flatten it out with frantic precision.

  "Alright, what's the plan now?"

  "Based on my research," Seymour began, his voice rising with excitement, "the Clefairy tribe avoids human contact. They gather atop Mt. Moon, basking in moonlight, their forms aglow in silver light—"

  "Can we please drop the rhymes?"

  Seymour stopped mid-recitation, blinking like a chastised child. After a moment, he nodded, his enthusiasm dimming slightly.

  "Alright," Seymour muttered, "no rhymes."

  They moved on to discussing the most likely territories to find the Clefairy tribe. Seymour pointed out several key areas on the map, rambling about moonlight patterns, magnetic fields, and energy concentrations. Austin listened quietly, letting him ramble as he cracked a glow stick to light their path.

  The tunnel ahead was pitch black, the kind of darkness that felt heavy and claustrophobic. The faint green glow from the stick barely illuminated a few feet in front of them. Vee took the lead, his sharp eyes scanning the path while his ears twitched at every faint sound.

  "Pika, pi?"

  "No," Austin said firmly. "You need to rest. Vee's got it."

  Pikachu sighed dramatically, flicking his tail and turning away like a moody teenager.

  As they ventured deeper, the first wild Pokémon appeared—a Zubat, its wings flapping erratically as it dove toward them.

  Vee didn't hesitate. He sprang forward with precision, landing a quick attack that knocked the Zubat out cold before it could even register what hit it. Austin couldn't help but smile. Vee was proving to be an absolute powerhouse, his versatility unmatched.

  From what Austin had observed, Vee could mimic the moves of his potential evolutions—quickly adapting and hitting with just enough force to dominate opponents. He lacked the specialized boosts that came with an evolution's typing, but it didn't seem to matter. Vee was fast, clever, and relentless.

  Pikachu, however, wasn't impressed. Austin caught the subtle flick of his tail, the way his ears twitched in irritation. Jealousy simmered beneath his calm facade. Pikachu wasn't used to being overshadowed, and Vee's growing skill set was clearly getting under his fur.

  Austin sighed inwardly. He'd have to find a way to balance the team dynamics before it became a bigger problem.

  "Where do you think Pokémon come from?"

  Austin blinked, thrown off by the question. "What kind of conversation starter is that?" he muttered to himself. He vaguely remembered Seymour from the anime—something about wild theories and endless rhymes.

  Seymour took his pause as permission to dive headfirst into his usual spiel. "Ever since I was young," he began, "I used to gaze at the night sky and wonder where Pokémon originated. I firmly believe they came from space!"

  "Space?"

  "Yes!" Seymour exclaimed, his eyes practically glowing. "And it all ties back to the Moon Stone! Deep within Mt. Moon lies a massive Moon Stone, which I theorize is actually a spaceship. It brought Clefairy—and perhaps all Pokémon—to this world!"

  Austin forced a polite smile, trying not to crush the man's enthusiasm. "That's… certainly a theory."

  Seymour's face fell slightly, his shoulders drooping. "You don't believe me, do you?"

  Austin sighed. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but my sponsor is Professor Oak. I've heard a lot of theories from some of the top researchers in the world."

  Seymour's excitement didn't falter. If anything, it seemed to grow. "Knowledge is a treasure meant to be shared!" he said, his eyes gleaming. "Theories are starting points, young man—springboards to uncover new truths."

  Great, Austin thought, rubbing the back of his neck. That backfired.

  He decided to change tactics. If Seymour wanted theories, he'd give him some. He could practically hear his brother's mocking voice in his head, "Alright, Mr. Pokémon Encyclopedia, go off."

  Fine. Let's see how you like this, Seymour.

  "Ever hear of Arceus?" Austin asked casually, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

  The name caught Seymour off guard, and even Pikachu perked up, whiskers twitching.

  "Arceus?"

  "Yeah," Austin said, leaning in slightly. "Arceus is a Legendary Pokémon from the Sinnoh region. They call it the God of Pokémon. It's said to have created everything—the universe, the Pokémon, everything. And to help shape existence, it created three others: Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina."

  Seymour's eyes widened. He was hooked now.

  "Dialga is the Master of Time, Palkia rules over Space, and Giratina…" Austin paused for dramatic effect, "was too violent. So Arceus banished it to a place called the Reverse World."

  Seymour's lips parted slightly, his brain trying to process it all.

  "But that's not all," Austin continued. "After them, Arceus created another trio: Azelf, Uxie, and Mesprit. They represent Willpower, Knowledge, and Emotion—the foundations of life as we know it."

  "I've never heard of these Pokémon before," Seymour admitted, his voice tinged with awe.

  Austin chuckled. "They're just the beginning. Then you have Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza—the Weather Trio. Groudon shaped the land, Kyogre ruled the seas, and Rayquaza controlled the skies. They're so powerful that when Groudon and Kyogre fought, only Rayquaza could stop them."

  "And the Regi Trio?"

  "Regirock, Regice, and Registeel," Austin listed. "Plus their leader, Regigigas. He's rumored to have moved the continents themselves."

  Seymour's jaw slackened, his mind clearly racing.

  "And then there's Mew," Austin added. "The supposed ancestor of all Pokémon. Every species traces its origins back to Mew."

  Seymour's expression shifted, and Austin caught a flicker of challenge in his eyes.

  "Do you have any proof of all this?"

  Austin felt his patience waver. Oh, so now we care about proof? He almost threw the question back at Seymour—what proof did he have that Clefairy came from the Moon? But Austin held his tongue.

  He took a breath and thought carefully. Seymour wasn't being antagonistic—he genuinely wanted answers. For him, this wasn't a debate.

  "I don't know," Austin admitted, softening his tone. "I heard it from someone a long time ago. But hey, I'm not a scientist. Evidence-gathering is more your thing, right?"

  Seymour studied him for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought. Then, slowly, he nodded.

  "Fair enough," Seymour said simply, his voice free of its usual sing-song rhythm.

  "Pika!"

  "Eve!"

  The sharp cries snapped Austin's head around, just in time to spot it—a Clefairy, standing a short distance away. For a moment, he just stared, caught off guard by how surreal it looked up close. Its soft pink fur, star-like body, and fluttering wings made it seem more like a creature from a bedtime story than reality.

  "Seymour, close your eyes!"

  The Clefairy froze, ears twitching as it stared at them, unsure whether to flee or fight. Pikachu, ever the quick thinker, sparked to life and used Flash.

  His cheeks flared, releasing a burst of electricity that filled the cavern with blinding light. Even through his closed eyes, Austin could feel the brightness searing into the darkness around them.

  The Clefairy squealed in panic, disoriented, as Austin shouted, "Mud trap!"

  Vee didn't miss a beat. With a swift Sand Attack, he kicked up a cloud of dirt before immediately following it with Water Pulse. The mixture splattered into a thick, sticky mud, covering the Clefairy and further disorienting it. Vee lunged, pinning the creature against the rocky wall, his paws firm but gentle.

  "Seymour, now!" Austin called out, still squinting through the fading remnants of Pikachu's Flash.

  Instead of action, he heard Seymour mumbling.

  "O starry sprite of moonlit grace,

  Before thee now I bow my face…"

  What the hell is he doing?! Austin thought, turning to see Seymour bowing, his hands making strange, reverent gestures. The scientist's face was alight with awe, like he'd just stumbled into a religious experience.

  "Tag it!"

  "Oh, right! Right!" Seymour fumbled for the tracker, nearly dropping it in his haste. His hands trembled as he activated the tiny device, a nervous energy radiating off him.

  Before Seymour could attach the tracker, the Clefairy let out a shrill cry and released a flurry of pink hearts—Attract. The move hit Vee squarely, sending him skidding backward. The Clefairy wriggled free, shaking off the mud as its gaze darted between the humans, clearly ready to flee.

  "Dammit," Austin muttered. "Plan B."

  He reached into his bag and pulled out the Moon Stone he'd taken off some Team Rocket grunt. It wasn't large, but it was genuine, and if his fuzzy anime memories were accurate, this might just buy them a chance.

  Holding the stone up, he lowered his voice. "You want this, don't you?"

  The Clefairy froze, its eyes locking onto the stone. The tension in its body eased ever so slightly, curiosity overtaking fear.

  Austin leaned toward Pikachu, keeping his voice low so Seymour wouldn't overhear.

  "Tell Clefairy it can have the Moon Stone if it leads us to the Moon Cave. And mention that I am the guy who drove out Team Rocket."

  Pikachu was confused by his trainer's request but nodded.

  Turning to the Clefairy, he began chattering in their shared Pokémon language, his tone calm but persuasive.

  Austin couldn't make out the words, but the Clefairy's expression softened as it listened, its rigid stance relaxing.

  Seymour, still holding the tracker, asked, "What about the tag?"

  Austin barely suppressed an eye roll. "Don't you want to see the mothership?" he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, meanwhile thinking over what this development could mean for him.

  But when he glanced at Seymour, he saw something that gave him pause—genuine longing. To Seymour, this wasn't just a wild theory. It was a dream, a mission to prove to the world—and maybe to himself—that he wasn't crazy. Austin felt a pang of guilt for mocking him.

  The Clefairy's gaze flicked between the Moon Stone and Pikachu, who was still speaking softly. Vee, ever the diplomat, padded forward and offered the Clefairy a berry. It hesitated, glancing at Pikachu for reassurance, before cautiously accepting the gesture.

  Pikachu turned back to Austin, giving him a subtle thumbs up. Negotiations complete.

  Austin's relief was short-lived as something extraordinary happened. The small wings on the Clefairy's back began to glow faintly, as if catching light that wasn't there. At the same time, the Moon Stone in Austin's hand began to shimmer, resonating with the Clefairy's aura.

  "Fairy!"

  Without hesitation, Austin handed the Moon Stone over. The Clefairy clutched it tightly, and before he could process what was happening, it swallowed the stone whole.

  "Wait—what?!"

  The Clefairy's entire body began to glow, enveloped in a soft pink light that pulsed rhythmically. Its small wings flared as it rose off the ground, floating as though weightless. Austin watched, awestruck, as it hovered in the air, its movements graceful and deliberate.

  And then it turned and began to drift deeper into the tunnel, its glow casting soft shadows against the rocky walls.

  "Follow it!"

  Austin didn't need to be told twice. He and Seymour hurried after the Clefairy, their steps quick but careful as they followed their glowing guide deeper into the labyrinthine cave system. The atmosphere felt lighter, almost ethereal, as if they'd stepped into another world.

  And that's when it hit Austin—the Clefairy tribe wasn't just hidden because of the cave's complexity. They could fly. Not in the flapping, birdlike way of Pidgey, but with a serene, effortless grace, as if lifted by some unseen force. It was no wonder they'd managed to stay out of reach for so long.

  The Clefairy tribe's cave looked ordinary at first—just another damp, shadowy cavern with jagged walls and a musty scent. But as Austin and Seymour moved deeper, the space opened into something extraordinary.

  In the heart of the cave was a massive hole in the ceiling, as though nature had carved out a window just for the moon. Moonlight spilled through it—not in thin beams but in a radiant, glowing cascade, bathing the cavern in a silvery brilliance. The air seemed alive, humming softly as though the cave itself were breathing.

  And at the center of it all stood the crystal.

  The towering structure was otherworldly, easily a dozen times Austin's height. Its facets shimmered like polished marble, a pale blue hue that seemed to drink in the moonlight and scatter it in a million tiny fragments across the walls. Smaller shards littered the ground around its base, like remnants of a celestial explosion. The light reflecting off the crystal painted the entire cavern in a dreamlike glow, accompanied by a faint, melodic hum, as if the stone itself were singing.

  Surrounding the crystal were dozens of Clefairy, Cleffa, and Clefable. They huddled in clusters, their wings fluttering nervously, their eyes fixed on the intruders. The older Clefable stepped forward, their stances protective and wary, their gazes sharp.

  Austin felt his muscles tense. He didn't blame them for being on edge—this was their home, their sanctuary. Any outsider would feel like a threat.

  Seymour stood frozen, his wide-eyed stare locked on the crystal. His breath hitched, and for a moment, Austin thought the man might burst into tears. Whatever Seymour was feeling, it was far beyond awe.

  Thankfully, their Clefairy guide floated forward, its wings still glowing faintly. It began to hum softly, a melodic series of chirps and tones, as if trying to calm the tribe. The Clefairy and Clefable listened intently, their tension easing ever so slightly.

  Austin felt something tug at his pant leg and looked down. A tiny Cleffa waddled up to him, its star-shaped body swaying adorably as it blinked up at him with big, curious eyes. More Cleffa followed, each chirping softly as they gathered around him. Their pink, stubby limbs and round cheeks made them look like living plush toys.

  Austin knelt and offered them berries from his bag. The little Pokémon squeaked with delight, eagerly snatching up the treats. One Cleffa hopped in place, clearly trying to get his attention. Its bright eyes and wiggling ears made its request obvious: it wanted to dance.

  Austin grinned, the tension melting away. "Alright, little guy," he said, standing. "Let's dance!"

  Seymour gave him a wide-eyed, panicked look, silently begging him not to ruin this. But Austin ignored him. He'd learned long ago that trust with Pokémon didn't come from keeping a distance—it came from getting involved.

  "Shall we, Mr. Toupée?"

  Vee's ears flattened as he let out a huff, tackling Austin lightly in response. Austin laughed as he sprawled on the ground, the Cleffa swarming him with concerned squeaks. He sat up and scooped one of them into his arms, tossing it gently into the air before catching it. The little Pokémon giggled, and soon the others were clamoring for their turn.

  From a distance, Austin noticed an older Clefable watching him. Its gaze was sharp, its stance cautious, but there was a flicker of something else—curiosity, maybe even approval.

  Pikachu caught Austin's eye. Using his usual charades, he filled him in: apparently, humans weren't usually allowed inside the sacred cave. It was forbidden. But exceptions had been made for Austin. The Clefairy tribe had recognized him as someone who'd protected their land and carried a Moon Stone with pure intentions.

  Austin felt his chest tighten, even as he tried to keep playing it cool. He stayed on the ground, laughing and playing with the Cleffa as the tension in the cave began to fade.

  Then, the Clefairy began to gather.

  They formed a perfect circle around the crystal, their small wings catching the silvery light. This wasn't the chaotic hopping he'd seen in the anime—it was deliberate, ritualistic. Each Clefairy moved with precision, stepping forward on the tips of their tiny toes, their movements synchronized like a perfectly rehearsed waltz.

  The moonlight seemed to cling to them, wrapping their pink bodies in a soft, silvery glow. Their wings fluttered in unison, creating gentle ripples in the air as they swayed and lifted off the ground.

  The air grew warmer, charged with an almost tangible energy. The Clefairy's pink bodies began to shimmer, a soft aura enveloping them as their dance reached its crescendo. One by one, the light around them intensified, their forms shifting and growing until they emerged as Clefable.

  Each newly evolved Clefable stood taller, their posture more dignified, their presence commanding. They glowed faintly in the moonlight, their wings larger and more radiant, and their movements slower but no less graceful.

  Austin watched, utterly mesmerized. In the anime, this ritual had been reduced to a bunch of Clefairy bouncing up and down like hyperactive toddlers. But here, in person, it felt sacred. Reverent.

  Seymour clenched his fists so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his palms. This is it, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. This is my chance to prove them all wrong.

  For years, they had called him "Seymour the Crazy." Not to his face, of course, but he heard the whispers, saw the smirks. They dismissed him, ridiculed him, reducing his life's work to the ramblings of a delusional fool. But here, in the sacred heart of Mt. Moon, he would show them. He would uncover the truth about the Clefairy tribe and their celestial origins.

  "I'm so close," he muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the glowing Moon Stone as if it held the key to his redemption.

  Behind him, Austin knelt on the cave floor, surrounded by laughing Cleffa. The boy tossed one into the air and caught it gently, the sound of its delighted chirping echoing through the cavern. Seymour's frustration bubbled over. Doesn't he understand the stakes?

  "Boy, stop this at once!" Seymour snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. "Focus! There's more to do here!"

  The shout rang through the cavern like a whip crack. The Cleffa scattered, squeaking in alarm, and Austin turned to face Seymour, his frown deep and shadowed in the moonlight.

  Before either could speak, the cavern fell into a tense silence. All eyes turned to the circle of Clefairy. One of them stumbled mid-step, its wings faltering as it collapsed to the ground. The glow of the Moon Stone flickered and dimmed, and the soft hum that had filled the air went abruptly silent.

  Austin's face tightened. "Oh no," he whispered, his eyes darting to the fallen Clefairy.

  Seymour's breath caught. He wanted to move forward, to help, but something kept him rooted in place. This can't be happening. Not now.

  He took a shaky step forward, his voice trembling. "O great Clefairy Tribe, up high in your shuttle, reveal your craft—"

  The rest of his words never came. A searing pain exploded across his jaw as Austin's fist connected, sending him staggering backward. Seymour hit the cold cave floor hard, his glasses askew, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth.

  He looked up in a daze, his cheek throbbing, to see Austin standing over him. The boy's fists were clenched, his eyes blazing with fury.

  "You don't have any shame, do you?"

  Seymour blinked, his mind reeling. "What…?"

  Austin jabbed a finger toward the fallen Clefairy, now surrounded by its tribe. "Because of you, that Clefairy couldn't finish evolving!"

  The words hit Seymour like a second punch. He opened his mouth to protest but found he couldn't speak.

  "I-I just wanted to see the space shuttle," he stammered weakly. The excuse sounded hollow even to his own ears.

  "What proof do you even have that this—" Austin gestured sharply to the dim Moon Stone, "—is some kind of space shuttle?"

  "I-I was looking for proof."

  Austin's lips curled into a sneer. "Looking for proof? You've been screaming your theories like a lunatic without even trying to understand what's in front of you." He stepped closer, his voice cutting like a blade. "You're a pathetic excuse for a scientist."

  The words were like daggers, each one cutting deeper than the last. Seymour's chest tightened as Austin continued.

  "Look around you," Austin said, his voice rising with frustration. "This place—these Clefairy—it's beautiful. It's sacred. But instead of asking real questions, like why the Clefairy dance in the moonlight or why they need the Moon Stone to evolve, all you care about is proving some half-baked theory."

  Austin's words hammered home truths Seymour had been trying to ignore.

  "You're not a scientist," Austin said, his voice dropping to a cold, quiet finality. "You're a fanatic."

  The cavern felt impossibly still. Seymour wanted to argue, to shout, to explain that he wasn't crazy, that his theories weren't just fantasies. But as he looked at the Clefairy struggling to stand, at the Moon Stone's dim glow, he couldn't deny the truth.

  He had disrupted something sacred.

  He wasn't here to understand; he was here to validate himself, no matter the cost. And in doing so, he had nearly ruined everything.

  The weight of it all pressed down on him like a physical force, and for the first time in years, Seymour felt the crushing sting of shame.

  Seymour felt cornered, like a hunted Pokémon with no escape. The whispers, the sneers, the mocking "Seymour the Crazy" that followed him everywhere—they all clawed at him now, louder than ever. He had to prove himself. He had to.

  Then a sharp, high-pitched sound cut through his spiraling thoughts.

  Zing!

  A flurry of glowing stars embedded themselves in the cavern floor in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. Pikachu's Swift attack sparkled ominously as Seymour froze, his heart pounding.

  "Where are you running off to, you idiot?" Austin's voice rang out. "Can't handle being wrong?"

  Seymour whirled around, his chest heaving, his face hot with shame and frustration. Before he could stop himself, the words burst out, raw and desperate. "I can't be wrong, not about this! My entire career, my beliefs—they hinge on this truth!" His voice echoed through the cavern, and he hated how pathetic it sounded, like the last cry of a drowning man.

  Austin didn't snap back immediately. Instead, he sighed—long, heavy, and full of something Seymour couldn't quite place. Disappointment? Pity?

  "My father once told me there's no shame in being wrong," Austin said quietly. "But there is shame in staying wrong." He gestured toward the Clefairy tribe, huddled together, their soft eyes watching Seymour with a mix of fear and mistrust. "So what if your theories were off? Look at them. You've got a whole new mystery right in front of you."

  Seymour followed Austin's gaze, and for the first time, he truly saw the Clefairy. The injured one still hadn't recovered from the disrupted ritual. Its wings twitched weakly as the other Clefairy surrounded it protectively. His breath hitched. He had been so consumed by his need to prove himself that he hadn't considered the harm he was causing.

  "I've wronged them," he whispered, his knees buckling as the weight of guilt crashed over him. He sank to the ground, his hands trembling. "I'm nothing but a fool… a reckless fool."

  "Yeah, you messed up. But that doesn't mean you can't fix it."

  Seymour looked up, surprised. Austin's outstretched hand hovered in front of him, not with anger, but with understanding.

  "I'm going to need Seymour the scientist right now," Austin said. "Not Seymour the Crazy. How do we help them evolve?"

  Seymour stared at the boy's hand, the flicker of hope igniting somewhere deep inside him. You still have a chance, he thought, wiping at his damp eyes. Don't waste it.

  He grasped Austin's hand, feeling the firm grip as he was pulled back to his feet.

  "Let's get to work," Seymour said, his voice steadying.

  "Pokémon evolution," Seymour began, pushing his glasses up with renewed purpose, "is triggered by specific catalysts—a reaction that releases an internal instinctual aura, causing a transformation."

  Austin stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and focused. Good, Seymour thought. The boy is listening.

  "For most Clefairy, that trigger is the Moon Stone itself," Seymour continued. "But this tribe is unique. Their evolutionary trigger has shifted from the stone to something more… environmental."

  "What kind of environmental factors?"

  Seymour paused, gathering his thoughts. "My hypothesis is that it's tied to the interaction of moonlight with the structure of the Moon Stone crystal. When the moonlight strikes the crystal at specific angles during a full moon, it generates a resonance—vibrations at a unique frequency that the Clefairy have evolved to respond to. This resonance creates a harmonic energy field that triggers their evolution."

  Austin tilted his head. "Resonance? Like… sound waves?"

  "Precisely," Seymour said. "Think of it like a tuning fork. When the moonlight passes through the crystal, the structure vibrates, creating sound waves at a frequency that interacts with the Clefairy's biology. Their wings and bodies are adapted to pick up this frequency, which acts as a catalyst for their transformation."

  "So it's not the Moon Stone itself, but the vibrations it creates?"

  "Exactly," Seymour said. "The Clefairy here have evolved differently from others. Over time, their evolution has shifted from direct contact with smaller Moon Stones to a process tied to the environmental effects of the larger crystal. It's an adaptation unique to this tribe, possibly driven by the scarcity of Moon Stones or the conditions within this cave."

  "So… we need to replicate the conditions," Austin said, catching on quickly.

  "Exactly!" Seymour exclaimed. "We'll need to refract the moonlight onto the Moon Stone using Pikachu's Iron Tail to amplify the resonance."

  "You hear that, bud? It's showtime."

  Seymour's confidence wavered as the plan took shape. The theory was solid, but the execution had to be perfect. He adjusted the angles on his calculations, sweat gathering on his brow. "Everything has to be precise," he muttered, mostly to himself.

  Austin positioned Pikachu as instructed.

  "Now."

  Pikachu swung his glowing tail, reflecting the moonlight at the perfect angle. The beam struck the Moon Stone crystal, and for a moment, everything stood still.

  The cavern filled with a low, resonant hum that grew steadily louder, vibrating through the air. The giant Moon Stone began to glow, its pale blue hue intensifying until it bathed the entire cavern in shimmering light.

  Seymour held his breath as the Clefairy began to gather around the crystal. Their wings fluttered, catching the glow, and they moved into formation. The rhythmic hum shifted into a soft, melodic sound, as though the crystal itself were singing.

  One by one, the Clefairy started to glow, their small bodies enveloped in the same pink aura from earlier. But this time, the light grew brighter, stronger.

  Austin and Seymour watched in awe as the first Clefairy evolved, its shape expanding, soft curves elongating into the elegant form of a Clefable. Its wings stretched wider, catching the moonlight like a canvas.

  The transformation spread through the group, each Clefairy glowing and evolving in turn. The cavern filled with the radiant energy of the newly evolved Clefable, their soft, harmonious cries echoing in celebration.

  Seymour felt his knees weaken—not from shame this time, but from awe. He had spent so long chasing proof of one truth that he had nearly missed something even greater.

  "This… this is incredible," Seymour whispered, his voice trembling.

  Austin glanced at him, a small smile playing on his lips. "See? Maybe you didn't need a spaceship after all."

  Seymour let out a shaky laugh, his heart lighter than it had been in years. "No," he said softly, watching as the Clefable danced in the moonlight. "I suppose I didn't."

  "Do you have a spare PokéBall? I promise I'll pay you back."

  Austin didn't hesitate. Without a word, he reached into his bag and handed over a PokéBall. The simplicity of the gesture—no questions, no hesitation—struck Seymour harder than it should have. He nodded, his throat tight with gratitude, and turned back toward the Clefable tribe. The PokéBall's smooth, cool surface felt heavier than it should, its weight pressing into his palm like a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.

  The Clefable watched him with cautious eyes, their tribe huddled close. Seymour's heart pounded in his ears as he stepped forward. This wasn't the time for his usual rhymes or theatrics. This moment demanded honesty.

  "When I was a boy," he began, "my grandmother used to tell me stories of a Clefairy godmother who granted the wishes of kind children." He hesitated. "I was enchanted by Clefairy, fascinated by their mystery and grace. But as I grew older, I saw how others dismissed them as 'fake fairies,' mocking them for their Normal typing."

  He paused, bowing deeply toward the Clefable. "I wanted to show the world how extraordinary you are," he admitted. "But my methods… my obsession blinded me. I've wronged you, and I'm sorry."

  When Seymour straightened, the Clefable who had led them to the sacred cave stepped forward. Its eyes shimmered with understanding, and a soft smile graced its face. Seymour's breath caught as it extended a hand toward him, and he held out the PokéBall, his grip steady despite his racing heart.

  "Will you help me show the world your true greatness?"

  The Clefable regarded him for a moment before lifting its hands, conjuring a glowing orb of light. The rest of the tribe followed suit, creating a sea of shimmering orbs that pulsed gently, filling the cavern with radiant, otherworldly energy.

  Austin took a step closer. "What… move is that?"

  The glowing spheres floated around them like tiny moons, their light casting a silvery sheen over the walls. Pikachu sniffed cautiously at the orbs, his nose twitching with curiosity. Meanwhile, Vee stood perfectly still, his gaze locked on the orbs with an intensity that suggested he felt something deeper—something beyond what the others could see.

  Seymour's mind raced as he pieced together the evidence in front of him. The Clefairy of Mt. Moon weren't just Normal-types; they had evolved in ways no one had anticipated. This wasn't just a move. This was Moonblast—a Fairy-type move. A type not yet documented in Kanto.

  The realization hit him like a thunderclap, his knees almost buckling under the weight of it. "They're not just Normal-types," the scientist's voice trembled. "They have a Fairy typing."

  As if to confirm his words, the Clefable stepped closer, its gaze soft but resolute. Seymour held out the PokéBall, and the Clefable pressed its hand against it. With a soft cling, the ball snapped shut, its indicator light glowing red for a moment before fading.

  The orbs surrounding them began to burst, each one dissolving into a cascade of glittering light. The entire cavern seemed to celebrate, the shimmering remnants falling like stardust. Seymour felt a tear slip down his cheek as he held the PokéBall tightly.

  "I can prove it now," he murmured. "I can show the world that the Clefairy of Mt. Moon are true Fairies."

  The PokéBall let out a soft ting, locking the Clefable's acceptance. Seymour exhaled, a deep, shuddering breath, as cheers erupted from the tribe around them.

  Austin, standing beside him, looked more bewildered than ever. "That's great and all, but, uh…" He glanced at Seymour. "What's a Fairy type?"

  "Something the world's about to learn," Seymour said.

  "Seymour, I am serious. What's a Fairy type?"

  Austin had repeated it to himself a hundred times now: Fairy types... A Pokémon type immune to dragon attacks. A type not native to the Japanese continent, only found in regions like Kalos, Alola, and Galar.

  He had to remind himself of this constantly. Even with all his knowledge about this world, there were still gaps—so many things he didn't know, so many unknowns that made it feel… real.

  And that unpredictability terrified him.

  He didn't know Ash's story beyond Unova. Didn't know what happened in Kalos or Galar. Honestly, he hoped Ash's journey was better than whatever mess Unova had been, but it didn't matter. What mattered now was figuring out what to do with the Clefairy tribe.

  "Seymour, calm down."

  The redhead was pacing frantically, muttering half-formed ideas as he clutched the PokéBall containing the Clefable. He looked like a Meowth chasing its own tail. And Austin got it—this discovery was huge. A Fairy-type Clefairy tribe in Kanto? It could reshape how people thought about Pokémon across the entire region.

  But it was also dangerous.

  Poachers, profiteers, and every other lowlife scumbag would swarm Mt. Moon like Beedrill to honey the moment they caught wind of this. These Clefairy would become nothing more than trophies or tools to the highest bidder.

  Austin felt his stomach twist.

  Seymour wanted to keep them hidden, to let the Clefairy live in peace, tucked away from the world. And for a fleeting moment, Austin saw the merit in that. But deep down, he knew better. Secrets never stayed secrets forever.

  "We can't keep them hidden, Seymour," Austin said as he tried to keep his frustration in check. "It's only a matter of time before someone stumbles onto them. And when they do? If we're not ready, we're screwed—and so are the Clefairy."

  Seymour stopped pacing, his face etched with doubt and fear. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Austin pressed on.

  "Look, we need Professor Oak. We need the government. They can set up a reserve or something, maybe even a research facility. If we control how this gets out, we can make sure the Clefairy are protected."

  Seymour hesitated, chewing his lip. He didn't want to believe the boy was right, but he couldn't ignore the logic. Finally, he nodded, his movements stiff with reluctance.

  "Good," Austin said, pulling out Seymour's Pokétch. His fingers hovered over the device for a moment before dialing Professor Oak's number. The knot in his chest tightened with each ring.

  "Hello? Who is this?"

  Seymour practically squeaked beside him.

  "Hey, Professor, it's me," Austin said, trying to sound casual despite the tension in his voice. Pikachu, sensing his nerves, let out a quiet "Pika" from his spot at his trainer's feet.

  "Ah, my boy! Calling from Mt. Moon, are you? In a hurry, I see." Oak's tone carried his usual mix of cheer and curiosity. "I imagine Daisy will miss you."

  Austin winced, heat rising to his face. The mention of Daisy brought back the awkward memory of his failed attempt to flirt with her. She had seen him as nothing more than a little brother. What had he been thinking?

  Stuck in a ten-year-old's body, with none of the charm or experience he liked to think he once had—sure, keep telling yourself that—it was no wonder she hadn't taken him seriously.

  "Why? Is she jealous she can't be on this awesome journey?" Austin deflected, forcing a laugh.

  Oak chuckled, letting the subject drop. "What can I do for you, my boy?"

  "Seymour," Austin said. "It's your show now—and, please, no rhymes."

  Seymour gulped, taking the Pokétch with shaky hands. He launched into a long-winded explanation about the Clefairy tribe, their unique biology, and their habitat. His voice gained confidence as he spoke, the passion for his work shining through.

  Meanwhile, Austin drifted away from the conversation. He wandered over to the Clefairy tribe, who were settling in for the night.

  One by one, the Cleffas curled into little pink balls, tucking their stubby limbs beneath their bodies. Their tiny ears twitched, and they let out soft murmurs as they snuggled close together. The air was filled with the gentle hum of their breathing, a lullaby that seemed to echo through the cavern.

  Austin smiled, feeling the tension in his shoulders begin to ease.

  "Let's call it a night, guys," he murmured to his team.

  First was Vee. Restless as ever, he circled a few times, his fluffy tail swishing before finally flopping down with a soft huff. His ears twitched, scanning the quiet cave for any last-minute noises, but the stillness calmed him. Slowly, he rested his head on his paws. The moonlight brushed against his fur, making it shimmer faintly, soft and warm like a fox finding its perfect nook. Austin knelt beside him, gently stroking his head. Vee gave a quiet yip of contentment before his eyes closed.

  Then came Pikachu, the most stubborn of the bunch. Even after the day they'd had, he was still buzzing with energy.

  "Come on, buddy," Austin coaxed, scooping him up.

  Pikachu nuzzled into his chest with a soft "Pika," letting out a small yawn. Austin placed him beside Vee, but, true to form, Pikachu didn't settle immediately. He rolled onto his back, then his side, then onto his back again, his little paws twitching in the air as he fussed for the perfect spot.

  Austin chuckled under his breath. Finally, Pikachu curled into a tiny ball, his tail wrapping around him like a blanket, soft snores signaling his surrender.

  As Austin finished settling his team, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Seymour standing there, holding out his Pokétch.

  "It's Professor Oak."

  Austin nodded, taking the Pokétch and stepping a few paces away from the sleeping Pokémon to talk. Seymour trailed behind him, hovering like a shadow.

  "My boy," Professor Oak's warm voice came through the speaker, "I must say, I never expected this kind of news."

  "Me neither," Austin replied, glancing at Seymour. "But I was hoping you could help Seymour. This is way out of my league."

  "Of course," Oak said immediately. "This is monumental—a discovery that could reshape how we understand Pokémon habitats and evolution. But it's also fraught with danger. Poachers, overzealous trainers… The Clefairy tribe could be in serious trouble if word spreads too quickly."

  That thought hit Austin hard. Not just poachers, but everyday trainers would swarm the area, desperate to catch such a rare type.

  "Have you caught one of these Fairy Clefairy, my boy? Or do you plan to?"

  "No," Austin said. "And I'm not planning to, either."

  The line went quiet for a moment. When Oak spoke again, his voice was laced with curiosity.

  "I thought you'd jump at the chance to catch such a rare Pokémon."

  "Normally, yeah," Austin admitted. "But there's a couple of reasons I'm holding off. First, the cost of raising a Fairy type is… something not native to this region will be expensive. Special food, supplies—it's a lot. And second, I don't want anyone finding out. If I caught one, it'd only draw attention to the Clefairy tribe."

  "Very wise," Oak said.

  "Besides," Austin added casually, "I don't need another Fairy type."

  There was a pause on the other end before both Oak and Seymour chimed in simultaneously.

  "Another Fairy type?"

  Austin blinked, realizing he'd just dropped an unintentional bombshell. "Yeah," he said. "Seymour mentioned there's a Fairy-type Eeveelution. I figured I'd just wait for that."

  Silence. Then Oak spoke, his voice filled with the kind of academic excitement Austin had only heard in documentaries.

  "Fairy-type Eeveelution? Fascinating! And 'Eeveelution'—what a delightful term! I might start using that myself."

  "Glad you like it, Professor. Now, what's the plan?"

  "The plan will require time and cooperation from the government. First, we'll need to establish a research facility here at Mt. Moon. Once that's in place, the League can close off the tunnels to prevent disturbances. This will protect the Clefairy tribe while we study them."

  The government could easily shut down the Mt. Moon range, and no one would question it—not after the recent Team Rocket attack. Any excuse would be enough to justify sealing the area off. In fact, it was probably the smartest move they could make.

  "From there," Oak continued, "the goal would be to gradually introduce the Fairy-type Clefairy to habitats with normal-type Clefairy. If the integration is successful, we could eventually allow the natural spread of Fairy types across Kanto. It's a delicate process, but one that could have profound implications for the region."

  Austin let out a breath. The plan sounded solid—on paper. But the reality of executing something like this? It was going to be a nightmare.

  "Do I need to do anything?"

  "Well, I just wanted to let you know your monthly stipend will be increased to 15k."

  Seymour clapped lightly.

  "Oh, uh, thank you, Professor… but why?"

  "This discovery is going to bring tremendous prestige to the lab," Oak replied smoothly. But something about his tone made Austin pause. It wasn't the words themselves—it was the way Oak's voice carried a certain eagerness, a hint of calculation.

  Austin glanced at Seymour, who was puffed up with pride. "Isn't this Seymour's discovery?"

  "Indeed," Seymour said, "and you are looking at the Oak Lab's newest member and the head of the Clefairy research team!" He stood a little taller, practically beaming with the title.

  Austin hummed quietly, watching the interaction with a critical eye. So that's how it is, he thought. It didn't take much to piece it together. Bringing Seymour under the lab's umbrella wasn't just about protecting the Clefairy—it was about consolidating credit. Oak wasn't foolish. By claiming the discovery through his lab, he'd ensure all the accolades and recognition came back to him.

  Seymour, however, didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He was too thrilled about the Clefairy tribe's safety to care who got the glory. And Austin? He wasn't exactly upset either. The Clefairy were safe, and his stipend was getting bumped. It wasn't worth raising a fuss over.

  Still, Austin wasn't about to let an opportunity slip through his fingers.

  "About the stipend," he said, a small, sly smile tugging at his lips.

  He wasn't na?ve. Oak wasn't just increasing his allowance out of the goodness of his heart. The professor knew Ash Ketchum had a knack for stumbling into world-changing events. The whole Celebi incident alone had probably made Oak realize it was smart to keep him happy.

  "If this is going to be such a groundbreaking discovery, why not make it an even 20k? I mean, with everything happening, the extra support would really help me stay ahead of things."

  There was a pause on the line.

  Austin knew Oak was mulling it over, weighing the cost against the potential benefit of keeping him incentivized. Austin's confidence didn't waver.

  Come on, old man, he thought, holding back a smirk. You know I'm worth it.

  Vee stood in a field, soft grass brushing against his paws, the warm sun draping over him like a gentle blanket. The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers, and the laughter of his human rang out like music. Austin was there, his face alight with carefree joy, tossing a ball to Pikachu while the rest of the team played around him. It was a perfect moment.

  Too perfect.

  A chill seeped into the scene, subtle at first. The sunlight dimmed, the vibrant colors of the meadow fading into muted shades of gray. The warmth that had cradled Vee turned icy, biting through his fur. He glanced down, and his paws sank into the grass—no, not grass. It was mud now, thick and cold, rising higher with each step.

  He tried to move, to shake himself free, but his legs felt heavier, weighed down by something unseen. He wanted to cry out, to warn Austin, but his voice wouldn't come. The world around him twisted, the meadow falling away into darkness, swallowing the laughter and light in an instant.

  And then he was back.

  The sterile lights above him glared, harsh and unrelenting, their white beams piercing into his eyes. Metal restraints bit into his limbs, holding him immobile. A muzzle clamped over his snout, muffling his cries, leaving him voiceless. The lab. The cold, cruel place he had thought he'd escaped forever.

  Panic surged through him as he struggled against the restraints, but they held firm. His claws scraped uselessly against the steel as a familiar voice sliced through the air—a voice he had hoped to never hear again.

  "This is what you get for escaping, you little experiment," the scientist sneered, his tone laced with malice.

  Vee's blood turned to ice as the man stepped closer, syringe in hand. The green liquid inside glinted under the harsh light. Vee's heart pounded violently in his chest as he thrashed harder, his movements frantic, desperate, but futile.

  His eyes darted wildly around the lab, searching for escape, for salvation, but all he saw was horror. His team—his friends—were there too, strapped down like him. Pikachu. Rattata. Spearow. Even Austin. All bound, all helpless. Austin's eyes locked with his, wide with terror.

  "Vee… help me!"

  Vee tried to scream, but the muzzle choked the sound. He watched helplessly as the syringe pierced Austin's arm. His trainer's scream tore through him, more agonizing than any pain Vee had ever felt.

  Rage flooded him, consuming the fear, filling the void with something primal and untamed. His body trembled as he felt the familiar, searing heat of evolution ignite within him. It clawed at his insides, tearing through him with merciless force.

  The lab dissolved into fire. His muscles burned, his bones cracked and shifted, his cells writhed in agony as they were reshaped. The heat crawled through every inch of him, setting him ablaze from the inside out. He was being torn apart, shredded and rebuilt in a cycle of endless pain.

  He wanted it to stop. He wanted it all to stop.

  "Please…"

  The word echoed in his mind, but no one answered. The light of evolution swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but pain and emptiness in its wake.

  Vee jolted awake, his body trembling as if the fire from his dream still burned through him. The cold air of Moonstone Cave felt suffocating against his fur, clinging to him like a phantom. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his heart pounding so loudly he thought it might wake the others.

  He glanced around, his wide eyes scanning the cave. The faint glow of crystals along the walls painted the scene in soft, shifting light.

  His paws shook as he lowered his head, trying to steady his breathing. He was safe—he knew he was safe. But his body didn't believe it. The memories clung to him like tar, sticky and suffocating.

  "You okay?"

  Vee flinched, his head snapping toward the sound. It was Austin, sitting awake in the moonlight, his face calm but concerned.

  Vee stared at him, unsure how to respond. How much had his trainer seen?

  Austin patted his lap, an open invitation. Vee padded into Austin's lap, curling up without hesitation. The warmth of his trainer's body against his fur began to ease the tension knotting his muscles. Austin's hand moved instinctively, gently scratching behind Vee's ear in slow, calming strokes. Vee closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of Austin's touch wash over him, soothing his frayed nerves.

  "Did you have a nightmare?"

  Vee hesitated. He trusted Austin more than anyone, but the nightmare's weight still pressed heavy on his chest. How could he explain it? The memories of the lab felt too raw, too tangled to put into words—or actions.

  For a moment, there was only silence. Then Austin leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Vee's head. "I'm here for you, Vee," he said. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

  The words unlocked something in Vee. Slowly, he straightened up and crouched low, his body trembling as he mimicked being trapped. He held the pose for a moment before leaping upward, his paws flaring outward as if escaping an explosion. Turning back to Austin, he tilted his head, silently asking if the boy understood.

  "Something scary?" the boy guessed. "An attack?"

  Vee nodded vigorously, then began tiptoeing in place, his movements exaggerated. His eyes darted as though watching for danger, then froze, pointing to an invisible threat before recoiling in fear. His body quivered as he acted out the terror.

  Austin's face softened as the pieces clicked together. "Is this about Team Rocket?" he asked. "Were the nightmares about them?"

  Vee nodded again, this time more urgently. His small frame trembled as the panic from the dream bubbled back up, threatening to overwhelm him.

  Without a word, Austin reached out and pulled Vee into a gentle embrace. He cradled the little Pokémon close, his arms a protective cocoon. "It's okay, buddy," Austin whispered. "They're not here. You're safe with me."

  Vee snuggled closer, burying his face in Austin's chest as his trainer's warmth seeped into his fur. The fear didn't vanish completely, but it dulled enough for him to breathe a little easier.

  "Do you know why the nightmares are happening?"

  Vee shook his head, his ears drooping.

  "You know," Austin began, "I've had nightmares too."

  Vee tilted his head, curious, his gaze locked on the boy.

  "Do you remember Viridian Forest? When we ran into Sird?" Austin's voice wavered slightly. "I try not to show it, but… when those Beedrill were killed… it messed me up." He paused. "I've had nightmares about it. Sometimes, I stay up late reading—just so I'm too tired to dream when I finally fall asleep."

  Vee leaned forward and gently placed a paw on Austin's hand, a quiet gesture of support. The boy smiled weakly, squeezing the Pokémon's paw in return.

  Vee stepped back and acted out another scene. He mimed stepping carefully over an imaginary obstacle, then pointed to his heart and raised his paws, looking at Austin expectantly. The silent question was clear: How did you deal with it?

  "I didn't really get over it, Vee," he admitted. "I just accepted that I was scared. Scared of Team Rocket. Scared of what they could do to us. Scared of losing you all." His voice softened. "And… that's okay. Being scared isn't a weakness."

  Vee's head tilted further, his expression confused. How could being scared possibly be okay?

  "Fear keeps us careful," Austin explained. "It's what makes us think twice before rushing into danger. It's what's kept us alive this far." He chuckled softly, though there was no humor in the sound. "Fear isn't the enemy, buddy. It's part of us. It reminds us what we have to protect."

  Vee seemed to ponder the words, his ears twitching as he processed them. After a moment, he gave a slow, thoughtful nod. He bumped Austin's knee gently with his head, his way of saying he understood—at least a little.

  But the question wasn't fully answered. Vee mimed another scene: sleeping peacefully, only to jolt awake in fear, clutching his chest as if reliving a nightmare. He locked eyes with Austin, his gaze full of worry.

  "What about the nightmares?" Austin asked. "Are you asking if I still have them?"

  Vee nodded.

  "Sometimes… they come and go. After we defeated Ariana, they got better for a while. But… they never fully go away."

  Vee mimicked shaking in his sleep again, clearly trying to convey how deeply the nightmares haunted him. The guilt in his eyes was impossible to miss.

  "I don't know why they're happening so much now," Austin said gently. "But we'll figure it out. When we get to Cerulean City, we'll find someone who can help. Maybe a doctor or someone who understands this kind of thing."

  Vee's ears twitched at the suggestion, but he shook his head, his expression clouded with guilt. He mimed shielding others, then pointed at himself, his body language heavy with self-blame.

  "Vee," Austin said softly, sensing the depth of his Pokémon's anguish. "It's not your fault. What happened on Mt. Moon wasn't your doing. Team Rocket is responsible for their actions—not you."

  But Vee still looked troubled, his head bowed. Austin could feel the weight of the guilt pressing down on him like a physical burden.

  "I know it's hard," Austin continued. "Seeing others get hurt makes you feel like you should've done more, like you could've stopped it. But you did everything you could. We did everything we could." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Blaming yourself for the actions of people like Team Rocket is like trying to stop a thunderstorm with your bare hands. It's out of our control, buddy."

  Vee's tail flicked, his gaze still downcast, but there was a subtle shift in his body.

  "We'll get through this," Austin said. "You're not alone, Vee. And you don't have to carry this by yourself."

  Vee looked up at his trainer, his eyes shimmering with emotion. Slowly, he leaned forward and nuzzled the boy's chest.

  "Not everyone's like Team Rocket, Vee. There are good people in this world—kind, caring people who fight against evil, just like we do."

  His hand rested gently on Vee's head, stroking the soft fur between his ears. "It's smart to be cautious," Austin continued, "but don't let fear stop you from seeing the good in others. Not all humans are bad. Some will stand by us no matter what."

  Vee looked at him, doubt flickering in his big eyes. The fear of being found by Team Rocket still loomed, a shadow he couldn't shake. Austin could see it clear as day.

  "Team Rocket will never find us, Vee," Austin said firmly, but Vee's skeptical posture betrayed his thoughts: How can you know that?

  Anticipating the unspoken question, Austin pulled his map of Kanto from his backpack and spread it out on the ground. "Look here," he said, pointing to Cerulean City and the web of paths surrounding it. "Back in Viridian Forest, we didn't have much choice. It was forward or nothing, and that gave Team Rocket an advantage. But now? After Mt. Moon, we have options. So many paths, so many places to go. We've covered our tracks, Vee. The odds of them finding us again? Slim to none."

  He met Vee's gaze. "And even if they do, we'll deal with it together. You're not alone, Vee. None of us are."

  Vee's posture eased slightly, his ears relaxing as the weight of Austin's words sank in. But there was still something else Austin needed to address—the guilt.

  "Vee," Austin said. "We're a team, right?"

  Vee nodded hesitantly.

  "Rattata, Pikachu, Spearow… They took risks because that's what teammates do. We fight for each other, and we'd do it again in a heartbeat."

  Vee's eyes shimmered, silently asking the question that hung in the air: Why?

  Austin smiled softly and wiped a stray tear from Vee's face. "Because that's what being a team means. We look out for each other. Always." He chuckled lightly. "Besides, look at the bright side—Spearow's becoming an Alpha Pokémon, Rattata's got a shiny new coat, and Pikachu? He hit the jackpot with a lifetime supply of ketchup packets."

  A tiny smile broke through Vee's doubt, and Austin's heart lightened at the sight.

  "Don't carry guilt for what others choose to do, Vee," Austin said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "We're in this together. Always."

  Vee let out a soft, hopeful "Eevee!" and curled up on Austin's chest, his small body rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his trainer's heartbeat.

  Austin leaned back in his sleeping bag, gazing at the vast expanse of stars scattered across the night sky. The deep velvet of space stretched endlessly above them, the constellations twinkling like a thousand silent guardians.

  "See that cluster there?" Austin said softly, pointing to a formation of stars. "That's Cassiopeia. It kind of looks like a W or an M, depending on how you see it."

  Vee chirped in response, tilting his head as if trying to understand. Austin couldn't tell if Vee grasped the meaning of his words or just found comfort in the sound of his voice. Either way, it didn't matter. This moment—the calm, the connection—was what mattered.

  Austin's gaze drifted, his thoughts momentarily tugged back to Earth. What are the constellations called in this world? he wondered. Kanto felt so familiar, yet so alien.

  A small paw tapped his chin, pulling him back to the present. Vee pointed at himself, then mimicked the motion of calling out a name. The question was clear: Why do I have a nickname when the others don't?

  Austin blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. He hadn't really thought about it before. Nicknaming his Pokémon wasn't something he usually did. In the fanfics he used to read, it always felt unnecessary, sometimes even confusing.

  But with Vee, it had just… happened.

  "That's a good question," Austin murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. "I guess I didn't think about it. It felt right."

  The name wasn't random, though. It came from Red's Eevee in the Pokémon manga—nostalgia, sure, but also affection. Vee had become more than just a teammate. He was family.

  Austin chuckled, reaching out to boop Vee's nose. "That's because you're a special Eevee. And someone special deserves a special name. Just don't tell the others, okay?"

  Vee's ears twitched, his eyes brightening with pride, though his bashful expression gave him away. He glanced up at the moon, its silvery light washing over them like a gentle embrace. For a moment, he simply stared, captivated by its quiet brilliance.

  Austin watched him fondly, a deep sense of calm settling over him. The cool night air, the stars above, Vee's warm weight on his chest—it all made the world feel lighter, simpler. He let his eyes close, breathing deeply as peace wrapped around him.

  Meanwhile, Vee's thoughts wandered as he gazed at the moon. For so long, the darkness had been his enemy. Shadows had been hiding places for danger, reminders of the constant threat of Team Rocket. Fear had been his companion—unrelenting and suffocating.

  But tonight, under the vast open sky, the darkness felt different. The moon and stars weren't ominous; they were protective, their light soft and reassuring. The night didn't feel like a threat anymore—it felt safe.

  Vee's gaze shifted to Austin, whose chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he dozed. Warmth surged through Vee, spreading from his heart to his paws. This human, this boy who had given him safety and love, had changed everything. Austin had replaced fear with trust, shadows with light.

  I want to protect him, Vee thought, his resolve hardening. I want to be strong—for him, for all the adventures ahead.

  As the thought took root, something extraordinary began to stir. It wasn't like the evolution forced on him in the lab—cold, painful, and unnatural. This time, it felt right. This time, it came from a place of love, of bravery. The feeling was warm and grounding, as though the stars themselves were guiding him forward.

  A soft glow began to envelop Vee, a gentle light that mirrored the moon above. It grew brighter, wrapping around him like a cocoon, humming with quiet energy. The air around them seemed to shimmer, and the comforting hum of transformation filled the silence.

  Austin stirred at the shift in weight on his chest, his eyes fluttering open. The sight before him stole his breath. Where Vee had been, there now sat a sleek black Pokémon, its crimson eyes glowing softly in the moonlight. Yellow rings adorned its body, pulsing faintly like an echo of the stars above.

  "Vee…" Austin whispered, his voice filled with awe. "You evolved."

  The Pokémon—the newly evolved Umbreon—leaned into Austin's touch as he reached out, his fingers brushing against the sleek, velvety fur. Umbreon nuzzled his hand, letting out a soft, contented chirp before affectionately licking his fingers.

  Austin smiled, his chest swelling with pride and joy. Umbreon had always been one of his favorite evolutions, and seeing Vee transform felt like a perfect culmination of everything they'd been through. For the first time, evolution had been a choice—a step forward taken on Vee's terms.

  "You did it," Austin murmured, running his hand along Umbreon's back. "You really did it."

  But just as Austin began to revel in the moment, Umbreon's ears twitched, and he shook his head, an odd motion that made Austin pause.

  "Uh… you okay?"

  Before he could get an answer, a sudden burst of light enveloped Umbreon once again. The glow of evolution wasn't fading—it was reversing. Austin could only watch in stunned silence as the light grew brighter, and then, just as quickly as it had started, it vanished.

  Vee was back. The sleek black Umbreon was gone, replaced by the familiar form of Eevee.

  "What the…" Austin sat up fully, his brow furrowing as he stared at Vee.

  Vee looked down at himself, ears twitching with confusion, then up at Austin as if to say, Did you see that too?

  Austin blinked, trying to process what had just happened. "...Huh?" was all he managed to say.

  Pokémon, you probably remember that Clefairy was originally a Normal-type, but when Gen 6 rolled around, it got reclassified as a Fairy-type. I wanted to take that change and weave it into the story in a way that fits the world. Here's the idea: in the Japanese continent—Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh—Fairy-type Pokémon aren't a thing yet, so Clefairy is still considered a Normal-type there. Because of that, some trainers mock it as a "fake fairy" Pokémon.

  Pokémon evolves.

  What did you guys think of Seymour's character? I tried to make him feel more real and fleshed out, similar to what I did with Nobunaga or Samurai Boy in the Viridian Forest. Did it work for you? I'd love to know your thoughts!

  "Hollow Knight: Crystal Peak soundtrack." That's the kind of vibe I was going for!

  many—of you had things to say, and frankly, I loved every single comment (except for the Vaporeon creepypastas, fuck you). Anyways, now that this chapter is out, it's obvious which option I chose: all Eeveelutions, baby.

  What did you think of this chapter alongside Vee's development?

  Thank you for your support and for enjoying my work.

  I hope you have a blessed rest of the day, and please share your thoughts in the reviews!