Chapter 8: Chapter 7: Pewter City Gym II
"Explain yourself before I call Grampa Oak and my mother!" Ashlyn's voice echoed loudly in the café, her piercing glare directed straight at Rin. Ashlyn was practically fuming, her best friend and fellow chaos queen now firmly in her sights. It wasn't about their usual antics; this time, Rin had gone too far—or at least, it felt that way. The two best friends were causing quite the scene.
Rin, sitting calmly across from her, didn't even flinch. Her Ninetales, Flare, lay stretched out at her side, its tails fanning out lazily. Rin delicately sipped her tea, her expression unreadable. "Ashlyn," she began, her tone soft but utterly unapologetic. "Calm thyself. I have excellent reasons for not telling you about my Pokémon history before we got our licenses. However, if thou dost drop this issue, I shall personally buy all your food for a year and give you the Steel Evolution stone my husband created for Eevee."
Ashlyn froze mid-rant, her eyes narrowing. "Steel Evolution for Eevee?!" Her mind raced, briefly derailed by the prospect of an incredibly rare, possibly priceless evolutionary method. For a Steel-type enthusiast like her, such a thing was practically priceless. But then her fury reignited. "Wait, that's not the point! You lied! You didn't even tell me you already had Pokémon before we got our licenses! And to top it off—you got married without making me the maid of honor?! What about the bridesmaids? Goh, Serena, Chloe, and Melody?"
Rin's pout deepened, and she placed a hand over her heart in mock anguish. "Ashlyn, dearest, I've told you time and again: the moment I turned eighteen, I was marrying Gazei. I made that perfectly clear! And for the record, it wasn't the real wedding. That's still to come. Once Gazei beats the League and finds his way back to me, we'll have the proper ceremony we've dreamed of."
"With motorbikes?" Ashlyn snapped, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
Rin raised a brow, almost offended by the question. "Obviously. How could we not? No proper wedding happens without motorbikes."
Flare lifted her head slightly at the mention of "motorbikes," her golden eyes narrowing in confusion. She had no idea what a motorbike was, but she sincerely hoped it was tasty.
The two tomboy girls, Misty and Mordred, exchanged skeptical glances. Misty wondered, for the life of her, how motorbikes were supposed to fit into a wedding ceremony. Mordred, on the other hand, suddenly realized she had no idea what her brother-in-law even looked like.
Ashlyn groaned, burying her face in her hands. "You're unbelievable. I swear, I don't know why I even bother with you."
"Because thou lovest me," Rin replied matter-of-factly, taking a delicate sip of her tea. Her tone was so unapologetic it bordered on smug. "And because our friendship is eternal, bound by chaos and mutual disdain for mediocrity."
Ashlyn dropped her hands, her scowl sharp enough to carve stone. "Don't get poetic on me right now. I'm still mad."
"Would a rare Steel-type soothe thy wrath?" Rin teased, a sly grin spreading across her face.
Ashlyn hesitated, her resolve cracking just slightly. "You bitch… fine, bet. What is it?"
Rin smiled sweetly—too sweetly. That tone always spelled trouble. If Ashlyn was dropping Gazei's slang, Rin knew her best friend was seriously mad. Not that Rin could exactly come clean about everything. The truth of her situation was murky at best. Unlike Gazei, Rin had actually lived through her childhood and all the struggles of acquiring her Pokémon. The gods hadn't handed her anything on a silver platter—they had made her work for it.
Those lowkey unskilled, sore-loser, limp-dick motherfuckers.
"There's a tournament in two days," Rin started casually, "and the gym is closed until then."
"Fuck, really?" Ashlyn groaned. She had planned to head to the gym right after brunch. Instead, she ran into Rin and her slutty-looking sister, who she had never met before today.
"And the reward is a Pokémon," Rin replied simply, as if that explained everything.
Before Ashlyn could respond, Rin abruptly turned her attention to Misty, her smirk sharpening. "And you, dear redhead, you're coming with us. You and your absolutely scandalous denim mini skirt."
Misty blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Rin said matter-of-factly. "Do you have any idea how many people are eyeing you right now? Question: it's a lot. Even Mordy getting looks, and she's dressed like a beach bum."
"Hey!" Mordred protested, but Rin waved her off.
"Don't bitch at me. At least my outfit screams 'wealthy and fabulous.' Yours just screams, 'I found this in the clearance bin at a tourist shop.'" Rin turned back to Mordred, pointing a finger. "And as for you, Mordy, you can't just walk around in four articles of clothing and expect people not to stare."
"so for the next two days, we're going with Operation: Who Runs This!" Rin stood up and pumped her fist in the air.
She stood up and pumped her fist in the air like a gladiator declaring war.
Ladies and gentlemen, this was Rin when her bloodthirsty nature hit a solid five on the bloodlust scale.
"Hell yeah!" Ashlyn matched Rin's energy with a wide grin, promptly forgetting her anger.
And this, dear reader, was Ashlyn in her prime—too excited about trainning to hold grudges. The only reason this situation was spiraling even further was because their usual backup wasn't here. Leaf was out torturing, harassing, teasing, or flirting with Gary. Chloe was in her aloof beauty phase. Goh was busy with exams and juggling multiple PhDs. Serena was in Kalos, and if Gazei were here, he'd probably be praying she stayed there. Melody? Still training as an island priestess.
Too bad both aren't here to help stop this well, most likely become the sole victims but good for all mankind.
Later That Day
The four girls stood in an open field just outside Pewter City, surrounded by tall grass and scattered rocks. Rin and Ashlyn had successfully bribed and blackmailed Misty into helping, while Rin ensured Mordred was too stunned to object. Now, it was time to get serious.
Ashlyn knelt beside her Rookidee, her expression sharp and focused. "Alright, little warrior," she began, brushing dirt off her gloves. "I've got a list of moves I want to teach you, and you'd better be ready to sweat. But first, we need a bloody name."
She paused dramatically, tapping her chin in thought before suddenly springing to her feet in a theatrical pose. "How about… Bà Kim!"
Rookidee tilted her head curiously, chirping in confusion.
Ashlyn crouched back down, grinning at the tiny bird. "She's the Vietnamese pinnacle goddess of metal and blacksmithing. You know—smart, strong, and ready to kick ass. Sound good?"
The Rookidee let out a sharp, proud chirp, puffing out her chest as if fully embracing the title.
"Bitchin'. Let's get started."
Pokémon moves are not as straightforward as the games and anime would have you believe. Sure, yelling "Hydro Pump!" might make your Squirtle unleash a torrent of water that shatters rocks like a firehose on steroids. But in reality? It's messy, inconsistent, and often defies all logic and physics. Not that anyone minds, because it's cool as hell.
Take Hydro Pump, for example. Teaching a Squirtle to generate that much water pressure from such a tiny body should be biologically impossible. We're talking about enough force to blast through boulders—something that would likely destroy the Squirtle itself if physics played fair. But people just shrug, call it "Pokémon Energy Dynamics," and move on with their lives.
Teaching a Pokémon a new move is a lot more complex than it seems. It's a partnership between the trainer and the Pokémon, often requiring guidance, experimentation, and occasionally external aids like video guides or specialized techniques. The hard truth, though, is that not every Pokémon can learn every move. Compatibility matters. Trying to teach a Grass-type Pokémon Fire Blast is a complete waste of time. Sure, they might be able to use Sunny Day to create favorable conditions, but unless you're working with some insane genetic engineering, they're never going to spit fire.
Or if you Mew or bloody Dragon, but the former is a god/goddess with a breeding kink, and the latter is Rule of Cool bullshit.
Even when a Pokémon is compatible with a move, they must be physically, mentally, and spiritually prepared. Moves demand more than raw power—they require coordination, endurance, and sometimes a deeper bond with their trainer. Pushing a Pokémon beyond their limits can result in severe injuries, some of which could end their battling careers. Trainers aren't immune to these dangers, either. Those working with techniques like Aura or bond phenomena face even greater risks.
The wildcard here is PokéEnergy, the core force behind all Pokémon abilities. Every Pokémon has access to it, whether they channel it into fiery bursts, watery blasts, or psychic waves. How they use it, however, is unique to their biology and personality. No two Pokémon of the same species will wield their energy in the exact same way, which is why training remains an art as much as it is a science.
Speaking of science, Pokémon professors like Kukui and Phorus have done extensive research into the Physical-Special Split to better understand how moves are executed. Physical moves are straightforward—the Pokémon's muscles, stamina, and overall physique enhance the move's power. Special moves, however, tap into the Pokémon's energy manipulation capabilities, often enhancing the quality of elemental or energy-based attacks.
Here's where it gets weird. A study once compared two Charmanders: one trained to increase its physical attack stat and the other its special attack. Both were taught Fire Punch and Flamethrower. Logically, you'd think the Fire Punch would benefit more from a high physical attack, while the flames of the punch would be stronger with Charmanders already high special attack stat. And you'd be partially right—until you're not.
The Charmander with higher physical attack not only dealt more damage with Fire Punch, but its flames were brighter and hotter during the move. However, its Flamethrower was mediocre at best. Meanwhile, the Charmander with higher special attack could melt stone with its Flamethrower, but its Fire Punch was laughably weak.
None of this makes sense, but it's accepted as part of Pokémon biology. For example, no matter how hard you train, a Gardevoir is never going to excel in melee combat—at least not without exceptional skill and instinct, even it wouldn't be enough to make it past a decent Gallade. The Ralts line, particularly females, might surprise you, though. They're unpredictable like that. No joke, without the limits of the games, Gardevoir is capable of learning Close Combat.
Ultimately, trainers must learn to work with their Pokémon's natural strengths and fighting styles. Each species evolves differently, adapting their combat strategies as they grow. For instance, the Rookidee line is destined to evolve into physically defensive titans, but as Rookidee, they're nimble fighters who rely on their speed and adaptability.
Rookidee are fierce and courageous, often standing up to opponents far larger than themselves. Like the Blaziken line, they are relentless in battle, using their small size and agility to attack weak points and dodge strikes. However, their eagerness can backfire, as they're prone to falling for feints and overcommitting.
Ashlyn stood with her hands on her hips, her grin as sharp as steel. "Alright, Bà Kim, it's time to get serious. Let's start with Detect and Drill Peck. I want you sharp enough to put even Brock's boulders to shame."
Rookidee chirped defiantly, hopping in place with an almost playful energy.
Rin turned to Mordred with a flourish of her hand. "Sister, release Clarent upon the field. Let thy Salamence test the endurance and valor of this fledgling warrior!"
Mordred raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Is this truly necessary? Clarent could crush that bird with naught but a flick of its claw." She brought her ball regardless. "Why dost thou always order me around?"
"Because I'm smarter, prettier, and the better sister," Rin retorted with a wink. "Now hop to it, Mordy. Clarent won't battle himself."
Mordred groaned but complied, tossing out her Pokéball. With a brilliant flash, Clarent appeared, its massive frame casting an intimidating shadow over the field. The Salamence let out a low, rumbling growl, stretching its wings wide. Bà Kim fluffed her feathers indignantly, clearly unfazed despite being barely the size of Clarent's talons.
Misty sighed and released her Starmie. "You'd better hope that Rookidee of yours is tougher than it looks, Rin. Otherwise, this is going to be a very short training session."
Rin smirked, her golden eyes gleaming with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. "Bà Kim's got guts, Misty. And unlike most trainers, she's got Ashlyn and me. That alone puts her leagues ahead of the competition."
Her Ninetales, Flare, lifted its head proudly, mirroring its trainer's confidence.
For the next two days, the four girls pushed their Pokémon—and each other—to their limits. It's more like Bà Kim trying not to get eaten by the angry dragon.
Meanwhile, Misty's Starmie tested Amphitrite's endurance, its relentless attacks forcing the Piplup to think creatively and dodge nimbly. Misty couldn't help but be impressed by Amphitrite's stubborn determination, even as she launched another barrage of Rapid Spin and Water Gun.
"Not bad for a rookie," Misty muttered as Amphitrite countered with a well-timed Bubble Beam.
[xXx]
The morning sun cast a golden glow over Pewter City, the streets bustling with anticipation. Banners and flags flapped in the breeze, their vibrant colors declaring the arrival of the long-awaited Pewter City Trainer Tournament. Vendors lined the streets leading to the Foster Museum, their stalls filled with rare items, local delicacies, and merchandise celebrating the tournament. Children raced ahead of their parents, clutching balloons shaped like popular Pokémon, while the entries raced with their balls.
OK this is way more people than I thought it would be? Rin thought as she checked hundreds of trainers out in the Museum, which is so damn big. How big is this world exactly?
Near the heart of the square stood a towering stage flanked by massive holographic screens that displayed the tournament bracket and highlights from past battles. The Foster Museum itself had been transformed into the nerve center of the event, its stately architecture adorned with banners featuring the tournament's mascot—a fierce-looking Onix wrapped protectively around a golden Pokéball.
A Rotom Drone buzzed through the crowd, its cheerful voice amplified by speakers. "Welcome to the Pewter City Trainer Tournament! Whether you're here to compete, spectate, or enjoy the festivities, get ready for battles that'll rock your world!"
Rin, Ashlyn, Misty, and Mordred arrived at the square, each taking in the sight with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
"Behold, comrades," Rin said, gesturing with a dramatic flourish to the stadium-like setup. "A proving ground for champions… and fools alike. This is where destinies shall be forged."
Ashlyn glanced at Rin, raising an eyebrow. "It's just a local tournament, Rin, not the Indigo League finals."
"Silence!" Rin snapped, tossing her hair back imperiously. "Every tournament is a stepping stone to greatness, and you shall leave thy mark!"
"This is ridiculous," Mordred muttered, her crimson eyes scanning the crowd. "All this pomp and flair for a mere tournament."
Rin placed her hands on her hips, grinning as though the entire event had been arranged in her honor. "Nay, sister, 'tis matter of Ashlyn's first day of becoming a Steel Queen! Look around thee—this is where her legends is going to be forged!"
Ashlyn smirked, elbowing Misty. "See that? This is why Rin gets all the attention. She's got the flair for drama."
Misty rolled her eyes, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Yeah, well, let's see if she can back it up. What's the deal with this thing, anyway? What's so special about this tournament?"
A passing trainer overheard and turned with a grin. "You don't know? This tournament's a big deal for new trainers. The winner not only gets a cash prize but also a rare Pokémon. They're saying it might even be a fossil Pokémon this year."
Mordred folded her arms, her crimson eyes scanning the weak thing in front of her. "Looks like every rookie and their mother decided to show up. Most of these weaklings shan't last beyond the first round."
Ashlyn smirked, leaning against a nearby post. "Good. Less competition means I'll sweep through faster."
Approaching the registration desk, Rin took the lead, her voice carrying the authority of someone used to commanding attention. "My friend, seek entry into this noble contest."
Ashlyn groaned, shoving her best friend lightly. "Cut the theatrics, Rin. I'm here to win, not star in a play."
Rin smirked but relented. "Very well. Go forth, then, and claim thy place among these mortals."
Misty, trailing behind, rolled her eyes. "You're making it sound like she's storming the Elite Four, not some rookie tournament."
"Every battle is a step toward glory!" Rin declared, flipping her hair dramatically.
Mordred snorted. "If Ashlyn falls short, 'tis because of thy endless chatter distracting her."
Ashlyn ignored the banter, stepping confidently up to the registration desk and moving her best friend out the way. The official there—a man in his mid-thirties with a clipboard and a wide grin—looked up as she approached.
"Welcome to the Pewter City Trainer's Tournament!" he said brightly. "Are you here to compete?"
"Yeah," Ashlyn said, handing over her Trainer ID. "Sign me up."
The man quickly scanned her ID into the system. "Great! You're in. Battles are one-on-one, single elimination. Matches start tomorrow morning. Check-in is at 9 AM, sharp."
"Got it," Ashlyn replied, her grin widening. She turned to rejoin her group, already planning her strategy.
As they walked back toward the training zones, Rin couldn't help but add her two cents. "Thou must crush thy foes utterly, Ashlyn. Spare no mercy. If thy opponent weeps, 'tis a bonus!"
"Gee, thanks for the advice," Ashlyn deadpanned. "I prefer broken bones and dreams."
"Preach!" The two sisters agreed. Misty can see the wisdom in that.
Why the hell women in this world so violent?
"Tomorrow's all about Amphitrite and Bà Kim. Those two are my key players."
Rin nodded approvingly. "A solid choice, though I suggest some light training tonight to sharpen thy edge."
Mordred finally stepped forward, her arms uncrossed. "Do try not to embarrass us, Ashlyn."
Ashlyn smirked, unbothered by Mordred's jab. "Don't worry. By the end of this tournament, they'll remember my name."
[XxX]
Date: September 27, 202X
Location: Pewter City Square, Main Battlefield
The late September air was cool, carrying the crisp promise of autumn as the bustling square came alive with the energy of the tournament. Trainers, spectators, and vendors crowded the area, their excitement palpable. Brightly colored banners bearing the Pewter City Gym and Pokémon League logos fluttered in the breeze. Around the field, Rotom Drones hovered, projecting holographic displays of the event schedule, the bracket, and advertisements for everything from healing items to battle tips.
The tournament battlefield, a carefully prepared space of dirt and stone, was lined with steel railings. Temporary bleachers surrounded the arena, filled with spectators eagerly awaiting the first battles. To the side of the field stood a raised platform adorned with a microphone and a massive screen displaying the live feed.
The roar of the crowd suddenly swelled as Don George, the ever-enthusiastic host, appeared on stage. His booming voice cut through the noise, instantly capturing the crowd's attention. Dressed in his signature referee uniform and an orange scarf for the occasion, he radiated charisma.
"Welcome, Pewter City!" Don George shouted, his voice amplified by the speakers. "And welcome to the annual Pewter City Trainer's Tournament! A grand showcase of skill, strategy, and sheer determination!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, waving flags and banners, and stomping their feet in unison. Ashlyn stood near the registration area, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Beside her, Rin, Misty, and Mordred watched the spectacle with varying degrees of interest.
"Now, as always, we've got an incredible prize awaiting our competitors!" Don George gestured grandly to the holographic screen, where a shimmering Larvitar spun in slow motion. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as the image gleamed in the simulated sunlight.
"But wait!" Don George continued, raising a hand for dramatic effect. "This year, the prize pool has been expanded thanks to our sponsor! Pendragon Supplies. The top three contestants will each get the chance to select a random prize Pokémon from a Fossil Pokemon! And the overall champion? They'll get to pick with full knowledge of what's available!"
The crowd roared, and the announcement sent a wave of excitement through the trainers. The prospect of rare, exotic Pokémon ignited everyone's competitive fire.
Rin crossed her arms, smirking. "A most worthy prize. It seems thou hast even more reason to claim victory, Ashlyn."
Ashlyn's grin widened as she adjusted her gloves. "Damn right. Amphitrite and I are going to own this tournament. We didn't come all this way to play second fiddle."
Don George clapped his hands, signaling for the first round to begin. "And now, let the battles commence! Trainers, take your positions! This is your moment to shine!"
The holographic bracket flickered to life above the battlefield, displaying the matchups for the first round. Ashlyn's name appeared alongside her opponent's, and the Rotom Drone projected her stats and Amphitrite's profile for the crowd to see.
Ashlyn stepped forward, rolling her shoulders. "Time to show them what we've got, Amphitrite. Let's do this!"
Rin gave a mock bow. "Go forth, Ashlyn Pendragon! Claim thy glory and remind them why the Steel Queen shall rise!"
Misty snorted, crossing her arms. "Is she always like this?"
Mordred smirked, her tone dry. "You've met Rin. What dost thou think?"
The Rotom drone zipped into position above the makeshift battlefield, its mechanical hum amplified by the murmurs of the crowd. A holographic screen materialized in the air, displaying the words: ROUND 1 - ONE-ON-ONE BATTLE.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Pewter City Trainer's Tournament!" Don George's voice boomed over the speakers, eliciting cheers and applause from the gathered crowd. "Up first, we have an electrifying one-on-one battle! Let's meet our trainers!"
The screen shifted, revealing images of the two competitors. On one side, Ashlyn stood confidently, her arms crossed and a cocky grin lighting up her face. On the other, a slightly nervous-looking Mia Lawson blinked at the screen, brushing her hair behind her ears as her Teddiursa waved adorably to the crowd.
"In the red corner, we have Ashlyn, a budding Steel-type trainer hailing from Pallet Town! And in the blue corner, we have Mia Lawson, the adorable rookie from Lavender Town, making her tournament debut!"
The crowd's cheers intensified as the trainers stepped forward onto the battlefield, separated by a line of white chalk. The field itself was a standard layout, with a few rocks and patches of grass scattered across the dirt.
Mia nervously adjusted her hat, her voice soft but determined. "Teddiursa and I are going to do our best!"
Ashlyn smirked, her voice carrying an easy confidence. "Good. I like a challenge." She grabbed her Pokéball, enlarging it with a snap of her wrist. "Let's get this started."
The drone chimed, signaling the start of the match.
"Ready… GO!"
Mia was the first to act. "Go, Teddiursa!" she called, tossing her Pokéball into the air. The tiny bear Pokémon landed on the field, rubbing its cheeks with its paws before letting out a determined growl. Its brown fur gleamed in the sunlight, and the crescent moon on its forehead sparkled.
Ashlyn threw her own Pokéball. "Bà Kim, let's show them what we've got!"
The Rookidee burst out in a flash of light, her small form bristling with energy. She chirped sharply, her wings flaring as she eyed her opponent. Despite the size difference, Bà Kim radiated confidence.
"Quick Attack, Teddiursa!" Mia commanded.
Teddiursa sprinted forward, a blur of motion as it closed the gap between itself and Bà Kim in seconds.
"Dodge and counter with Peck!" Ashlyn barked.
Bà Kim leapt into the air with a flap of her wings, narrowly avoiding Teddiursa's attack. She spun midair and dove down, her sharp beak glowing as she struck Teddiursa on the shoulder, forcing it to stumble back.
Mia clenched her fists. "Teddiursa, use Baby-Doll Eyes!"
Teddiursa's eyes glimmered with a soft, innocent light as it looked up at Bà Kim, attempting to lower her attack. The crowd cooed, charmed by the display.
"Don't fall for it, Bà Kim!" Ashlyn shouted. "Stay focused and use Drill Peck!"
Bà Kim shook off the effect of the Baby-Doll Eyes and charged forward, her beak spinning like a drill. She struck Teddiursa head-on, sending the smaller Pokémon rolling across the field.
"Teddiursa, get up and use Fury Swipes!" Mia urged.
The bear Pokémon staggered to its feet, its claws glowing as it slashed toward Bà Kim in a flurry of attacks. One swipe grazed the Rookidee's wing, but Bà Kim darted back before the others could connect.
Ashlyn grinned. "Not bad, but we're ending this. Bà Kim, finish it with Wing Attack!"
Bà Kim's wings shimmered as she launched herself at Teddiursa with incredible speed. The attack struck cleanly, sending Teddiursa sprawling to the ground. It struggled to stand, but its legs wobbled before it collapsed.
The drone buzzed, its hologram flashing: VICTORY: ASHLYN.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Don George's voice boomed over the speakers. "What an incredible first match! Ashlyn takes the win with a flawless performance! Let's give a round of applause for both trainers!"
Mia returned Teddiursa to its Pokéball, offering Ashlyn a shy smile. "You were amazing. Your Rookidee is so strong."
Ashlyn smirked, patting Bà Kim as the small bird perched proudly on her shoulder. "You weren't bad yourself. Keep at it—you'll get there."
The tournament progressed swiftly, with Ashlyn cutting through her opponents like a hot knife through butter. Bà Kim's relentless ferocity and Ashlyn's calculated strategies left little room for error on the opposing side.
Round 2
Ashlyn faced off against a nervous boy with a Kricketot. The battle lasted less than a minute.
"Struggle Bug!" the boy commanded.
"Drill Peck, full force!" Ashlyn snapped back.
Bà Kim darted in and delivered a spinning blow that sent the Kricketot crashing into the dirt, unable to get back up. The drone declared Ashlyn's victory before the boy even had time to react.
Round 3
The next opponent brought a Sandshrew, hoping its defensive capabilities would slow Bà Kim down. It didn't.
"Defense Curl!" the trainer called.
Ashlyn didn't even blink. "Hone Claws, then Wing Attack!"
Bà Kim evaded the Sandshrew's counterattack with ease, darting in for a crushing blow with her wings. Sandshrew spun like a top before collapsing, the battle over in record time.
Semi-Finals
By now, the crowd was buzzing with excitement every time Ashlyn stepped onto the field. Her opponent was a young woman with a Togetic, clearly hoping its bulk and versatility would give her the edge.
"Togetic, use Dazzling Gleam!"
"Dodge it and Drill Peck!" Ashlyn yelled.
Bà Kim twisted midair, narrowly avoiding the beam of light before slamming into Togetic with a precision strike. The Fairy-type wobbled in the air, clearly struggling.
"Follow up with Wing Attack!" Ashlyn commanded.
Bà Kim didn't hesitate, striking Togetic out of the air. The drone buzzed again, flashing Ashlyn's victory.
Breakbroom...
Ashlyn sat in the break room, her leg bouncing with anticipation. The scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of stale coffee from the vending machine in the corner. Rin lounged across from her, absently scrolling through her Nano Watch, while Mordred leaned against the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed. Misty was seated nearby, idly polishing one of her Pokéballs, clearly just as restless.
The door creaked open, and Brett swaggered in, the smirk on his face radiating unwarranted confidence. His Graveler's Pokéball twirled in his hand like a toy as he surveyed the room. Spotting Ashlyn, his smirk deepened, and he made his way over, practically oozing cockiness.
"Well, well," Brett drawled, leaning casually against the table in front of Ashlyn. "If it isn't the little girl who thinks she's hot shit. Enjoying your luckiest day ever, sweetheart? Too bad it's about to end. Graveler and I are gonna send you packing." He paused, his grin turning lecherous. "But hey, maybe after the match, you and your cute little friends can join me for a victory celebration. I'll even let you buy the drinks."
Rin's head slowly tilted up from her Nano Watch, her eyes narrowing as an almost imperceptible aura of danger began to radiate from her. Mordred opened one eye, her lips twitching into the smallest hint of a smile as she watched Ashlyn stiffen in her seat. Misty's hand paused mid-polish, her brows furrowing as she glared at Brett.
Ashlyn looked up slowly, her expression flat, her voice dry. "Sweetheart? Really? Are you stuck in a bad rom-com, or are you just naturally this pathetic?"
Brett chuckled, clearly unfazed. "Big talk for someone who's gonna eat dirt in the finals. Let me guess—you're banking on that bird of yours? Hate to break it to you, but a Rookidee's got nothing on Graveler. I'll crush you and your little mascot."
Ashlyn's fingers tightened around her water bottle, her knuckles whitening, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have to.
"Thou art most bold, whelp," Rin said, her tone dripping with amusement. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm as her crimson eyes glinted. "Pray, dost thou truly believe thine overinflated ego shall shield thee from the inevitable?"
Brett blinked, caught off guard by Rin's archaic phrasing. "What?"
Mordred snorted from her spot against the wall. "She means you're an idiot."
Brett's smirk twisted into a sneer. "Oh, I see. You've got your little cheer squad hyping you up. Cute. Maybe they can patch you up after Graveler wipes the floor with you."
Ashlyn leaned back in her chair, her gaze hardening. "Bold of you to assume Graveler will still be standing when I'm done."
Mordred's eyes opened, gleaming with something predatory. For a brief moment, the room shifted. Mordred suddenly felt a swell of pride as both her sister and Ashlyn exuded a killing intent so sharp it seemed to carve the air. It was an aura that promised pain, and it made her think, Perhaps Ashlyn truly is worthy being friend to the Pendragon name.
Before Brett could retort, Rin's grin widened into something sharp and predatory, the kind of expression that sent shivers down spines.
"Break him, Ashlyn," Rin said, her tone deceptively light. But her smile, her voice—it carried something darker, something far more dangerous than her words alone. "I want to hear him beg."
The room went silent for a beat, Brett's face twitching in discomfort as he glanced between Ashlyn and Rin. Ashlyn stood, her grin matching Rin's for intensity, her Rookidee perched on her shoulder, letting out an eager chirp.
"Don't worry," Ashlyn said, walking past Brett toward the door. "I'm not just going to beat him. I'm going to make sure he remembers this day for the rest of his life."
Brett's bravado faltered ever so slightly, but he quickly recovered, following her out with an exaggerated laugh. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."
The door swung shut behind them, leaving Misty to shake her head with a sigh. "You guys sure know how to scare the hell out of someone. Also He is going to die"
"Indeed," Mordred agreed, her lips quirking upward. "And I am most looking forward to the execution."
Ashlyn stepped onto the battlefield, her earlier annoyance now channeled into cold determination. The Rotom Drone buzzed overhead, projecting their names in bold letters: Ashlyn vs. Brett.
Across the field, Brett smirked, his Graveler stomping into position. "Ready to lose, sweetheart?"
Ashlyn ignored him, her focus on the Pokéball in her hand. "Let's end this, Bà Kim." She tossed the ball into the air, releasing the Rookidee in a flash of light. The tiny bird emerged with a defiant chirp, her feathers gleaming under the sunlight.
Brett took the first move, his voice dripping with overconfidence. "Graveler, Mudball (Ground Type version of Rollout)! Crush that tiny bird!"
The Graveler curled into a ball and launched forward, tearing through the battlefield with destructive force. Rocks and dust flew into the air, leaving a trail of chaos in its wake.
"Bà Kim, take to the skies and use Tailwind!" Ashlyn called, her voice steady.
The little bird darted upward, wings pumping furiously as a gust of wind spiraled around her, boosting her speed dramatically. The massive Graveler barreled past beneath her, its attack missing entirely.
Ashlyn barely suppressed a smirk. Graveler's sluggish movements and Brett's overconfidence screamed one thing: poor training. She wasn't worried. Most Rock-type moves required close-range impact, and while they were devastatingly effective against Flying-types, they couldn't do a thing if they didn't land.
What made it worse? Brett had called for a Ground-type move against a Flying-type. Amateur hour.
Here's the thing about Pokémon moves: they don't operate by normal physics. Every damaging move is powered by Pokéenergy—the energy responsible for granting moves their unique typing and effects. Each move is strictly categorized under one type, which determines its effectiveness. Ground-type moves, for instance, don't touch Flying-types unless their immunity is negated.
A Pokémon immune to Ground energy—like Flying-types—avoids this completely, as they're not "grounded." Moves like Magnet Rise, abilities like Levitate, or even the use of an Air Balloon replicate this immunity. The only way to bypass it is by forcibly grounding the Pokémon—through moves like Smack Down—or conditions like Gravity.
That's why Graveler's attack was pointless. Sure, a 764-pound boulder rolling toward you would terrify anyone, but with Ground energy powering it, it had zero effect on Bà Kim.
Still, battles like these often disregard the rules of reality. Accuracy and evasiveness didn't align with standard science either. But hey, it made for a spectacle.
"Rockhead, you missed the damn bird!" Brett yelled, his frustration mounting. "Now take guard!"
Ashlyn let out a short laugh. "Rockhead? Really? Not very creative. Fits you, though."
Graveler ignored its trainer's shouting and curled into a defensive position. It didn't matter. A moment later, Bà Kim struck with Rock Smash, her talons glowing with Fighting energy. She struck Graveler's exposed side, then darted back before it could react.
The Graveler roared in pain, its shell cracking slightly. Bà Kim didn't let up, landing blow after blow, targeting weak points with sharp precision. Brett's growing desperation was evident in his voice.
"Fuck you, dumb bitch! Graveler, Smack Down!"
The arena shook as Graveler slammed its fists into the ground, summoning glowing rocks that hurtled into the air. One struck Bà Kim dead on, the energy latching onto her wings. She let out a cry as she faltered, dropping closer to the ground.
Ashlyn cursed under her breath. Smack Down was one of the few moves that could counter Flying-types. The energy from the rocks disrupted the flying energy surrounding Bà Kim, forcing her into a grounded state. This nullified her immunity to Ground-type moves and made her vulnerable.
"Now don't mess this up—Bulk Up! Raise those defenses!" Brett shouted.
Graveler pumped Fighting energy into its body, its muscles bulging as its attack and defense grew. Ashlyn could feel the shift in the crowd's energy as they began murmuring about Brett's potential comeback.
"Bà Kim, Hone Claws! Don't stop!" Ashlyn ordered.
The Rookidee dug her talons into the ground, her claws glowing faintly as she sharpened her attacks and accuracy. Each repetition made her movements more precise, her strikes more focused. Brett didn't seem to notice her growing advantage.
"Rock Throw!" Brett roared.
Graveler launched a barrage of sharp stones at the grounded Rookidee. Ashlyn opened her mouth to call for evasion but paused. Bà Kim, trained under Mordred's intense regimen, didn't wait for orders.
Without hesitation, she charged into the barrage, her body glowing faintly with the energy of Detect. She weaved through the hail of rocks, dodging some while allowing others to glance off her feathers. Even as Detect wore off, she pressed forward, determination radiating from her small frame.
"Now, Rock Smash! End it!" Ashlyn commanded.
Bà Kim closed the distance in an instant, her talons glowing fiercely as she slammed into Graveler's exposed core with a resounding crack. The force of the attack drove Graveler into the ground, its shell fracturing further. The battlefield shook from the impact.
Brett's eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell kind of Rookidee does this much damage?!" he muttered.
Graveler struggled back to its feet, wobbling but refusing to back down. Brett saw an opportunity. "Double-Edge! Crush it!"
Graveler lunged forward, its body glowing with energy as it collided with Bà Kim. The bird screeched in pain, retaliating with another savage Rock Smash. Both Pokémon hit the ground, battered and bruised.
Soon both got up back to their feet.
The Rotom Drone buzzed loudly, projecting the status of the battle onto the screen above the battlefield. Brett's Graveler stood with a piss-off snarl, its rocky hide battered, cracked, and chipped but intact. Across the field, Ba Kim huffed heavily, her feathers ruffled and blood seeping from her bruised legs, but her eyes shone with unrelenting determination.
Brett smirked, wiping some dirt off his jacket. "Looks like your bird's on her last legs. Give up now, sweetheart, before she really gets hurt."
Ashlyn's smirk matched his, dark and laced with something Brett wasn't ready for. "Give up? Why would I do that when we're just getting started?"
"Double-Edge! Max Power!"
Graveler lunged forward, its body glowing with energy as it collided with Bà Kim.
"Double!"
The bird screeched a battle cry, retaliating with two more Rock Smash to Graveler's exposed core.
For a moment, the battlefield was silent.
Then, Bà Kim staggered to her feet, her feathers tattered, her wings trembling. She let out a defiant cry, glaring at the fallen Graveler, which lay motionless.
The Rotom drone buzzed, its holographic display flashing: VICTORY: ASHLYN.
Brett stood frozen on the battlefield, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at his fallen Graveler. The crowd's cheers roared around him, but it was as though the sound had been sucked out of his world. His face contorted, shifting between disbelief, frustration, and outright humiliation. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"No way," he muttered under his breath. "No fucking way... That was just a fluke! A goddamn fluke!"
He whipped around to glare at Ashlyn, who was cradling Bà Kim in her arms. The little Rookidee was battered but victorious, her feathers ruffled, her chest puffed out with pride despite her injuries. Ashlyn wore a smug grin, her confidence palpable as she adjusted her stance, standing tall like she'd expected nothing less.
"You got lucky, sweetheart," Brett spat, pointing a trembling finger at her. "Your bird's just some overhyped trash. If Graveler hadn't been hit with that last shot—"
Ashlyn cut him off with a sharp laugh, her tone dripping with amusement. "Oh, Brett, honey, you keep telling yourself that. Maybe repeat it a few times in the mirror tonight while you cry about this beating."
The jab struck a nerve. Brett's face turned red as he scowled, his bravado slipping. "Don't get cocky! This was nothing—just wait until next time. I'll—"
"Next time?" Ashlyn raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with mockery. "You couldn't handle me or Bà Kim at our first gym. What makes you think you'll stand a chance later?"
Rin, leaning casually against the rail, chimed in with a low, predatory smile that could have sent chills through the bravest of men. "Indeed, thou art most pitiable, Brett. Scorned by thy own incompetence, scrambling to salvage what remains of thy shattered pride. 'Tis almost entertaining… if it weren't so pathetic."
Mordred, standing beside her, let out a bark of laughter. "He truly thought he could win. Hilarious."
Brett growled under his breath, looking as if he might snap. But before he could say another word, the referee stepped forward to confirm the result. "The match is over. Ashlyn and Bà Kim are the winners. She has won the tournament."
He bit his lip, forced to swallow the bitter pill of defeat. Muttering curses under his breath, Brett stomped off the field, retrieving his Graveler without so much as a glance toward his opponent. The crowd parted for him, many whispering and casting amused glances his way. Brett could feel the heat of their stares, the weight of their judgment.
As he reached the exit, Rin's voice called out one final taunt, loud enough for everyone to hear: "Next time, do try to bring something more than empty words and a pebble with delusions of grandeur."
The crowd erupted into laughter, and Brett stormed away, his face as red as a Magmar. Meanwhile, Ashlyn stood victorious in the center of the battlefield, raising Bà Kim's Pokéball triumphantly for the crowd.
"You were amazing out there," she whispered to her Pokémon before turning to leave, her grin widening. "Let's keep that win streak."
Don George, the event's charismatic host, stood proudly on stage, a wide grin splitting his face as he held a microphone. His Rotom drone buzzed nearby, broadcasting the ceremony to various screens around the square.
"Ladies and gentlemen, trainers of all ages, and Pokémon lovers everywhere!" Don George's voice boomed, amplified by the speakers. "What an incredible tournament this has been! We've seen thrilling battles, incredible displays of strategy, and a level of sportsmanship that makes this all worthwhile. But now, the time has come to honor our champions!"
The crowd roared as spotlights swept across the stage, eventually settling on a row of four trainers standing to the side. Each looked a mix of proud and exhausted, their Pokémon standing or resting at their feet. At the far end stood Ashlyn, her chin high and her eyes gleaming with victory. Bà Kim perched on her shoulder, her feathers sleek and shining despite the intense battles she had endured.
Don George gestured toward the finalists. "First, let's give a round of applause to our top four competitors! Each of them will have the chance to select a rare Pokémon from the prize pool—a collection brought to us from far-off regions and carefully chosen for this prestigious event!"
The Rotom drone projected images of the prize pool above the stage: silhouettes of mysterious Pokémon, each one tantalizingly unfamiliar to most of the crowd. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the audience as they tried to guess which Pokémon lay hidden behind the silhouettes.
"And now," Don George continued, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, "our top four! In fourth place, after an incredible run through the brackets: Marcus from Cerulean City! Let's hear it for him!"
Marcus, a wiry boy with spiky blue hair, stepped forward with a sheepish smile, waving awkwardly as the crowd cheered. His Seadra floated beside him, emitting a soft trill of approval.
"In third place, hailing from Fuchsia City, and showcasing some of the best tactical battling we've seen: Lena and her mighty Machoke!"
Lena, a tall girl with braided hair and a confident grin, strode forward, fist-bumping her Machoke as they soaked in the applause.
"In second place, giving it his all and making every battle a spectacle: Brett and his Graveler!"
Brett stepped forward, his smirk less cocky than it had been earlier. The earlier humiliation still lingered in his expression, but he managed a short bow to the crowd. Graveler stood at his side, still battered from its battles but holding its ground.
"And finally," Don George's voice dropped dramatically, "our champion! A trainer who showed grit, strategy, and the kind of determination that makes champions stand out! From Pallet Town, with her unstoppable Rookidee, Bà Kim—give it up for Ashlyn!"
The crowd exploded into cheers as Ashlyn stepped forward, her smile wide and genuine. She raised her arm high, acknowledging the applause while Bà Kim flapped her wings and chirped proudly. Confetti cannons went off, showering the stage in shimmering gold and silver as the Rotom drone captured every moment.
"Congratulations, Ashlyn," Don George said, extending a hand. She shook it firmly, her grip as confident as her demeanor. "You've earned the top spot, and now you have the honor of choosing from the prize Pokémon with full knowledge of what's available. The first pick is yours!"
Ashlyn glanced at the holographic display, the excitement buzzing through her veins. This was more than just a victory—it was a step closer to her dream of becoming the Steel Queen. Her eyes darted between the silhouettes, already imagining the possibilities.
Don George turned to the other finalists. "And to our second, third, and fourth place trainers: prepare to make your selections! Your mystery Pokémon will be randomly chosen after Ashlyn has made her pick."
The Pokémon prize pool Ashlyn could choose from featured an exotic array of rare and unique creatures, each originating from distant regions and shrouded in mystery. The silhouettes displayed by the Rotom drone only hinted at their identities, adding to the anticipation. As the display lit up, Don George began to reveal the Pokémon available to the champion.