Johan had successfully advanced to the Top 32. The upcoming battles would take place at the central stadium above Castelia Park.
As expected, most of the people Johan knew had also made it into the Top 32. Everyone would now compete in the grand stadium for victory.
Though only two rounds had passed, the quality of the "Youth Masters World Championship" had been so high that most spectators, both onsite and online, found it thrilling. The matches were captivating, and many were already looking forward to high-profile face-offs—Johan vs. Steven, teacher vs. student, or perhaps Cynthia vs. Diantha, best friends turned rivals.
In short, anticipation was at its peak.
Meanwhile, those anticipated trainers were currently...
"Steven, pass me the pepper." Johan, wearing a Gengar apron, was busy grilling skewers.
"Yes, teacher." Steven promptly handed it over.
Cynthia, Diantha, and Caitlin sat chatting nearby, talking about typical girl stuff.
"Johan!!" Lance suddenly burst in, flustered and disheveled—rare for someone like him.
"Tell her I'm not here!" he shouted, then dashed into the house.
"What's up with Lance?" asked Flint, sitting with Gengar and Larvitar, eyeing the barbecue.
Johan didn't change expression. He turned to Lucian, who wore a Gardevoir apron, and said, "Lucian, speed up the skewers."
Lucian rolled his eyes and sighed as he glanced at the ingredients in front of him.
Suffering incarnate.
"If I've done wrong, let the heavens punish me—not this…"
"Garrr?" Garchomp glanced at him.
"Understood, Johan-sensei." Lucian went quiet.
Johan then looked at Flint, grinning as he began a countdown.
"Three, two, one…"
"Johan-sensei, have you seen Lance?" Lorelei barged in.
Johan was about to speak, but Flint blurted, "He's not here!"
Johan facepalmed.
As expected, Lorelei looked skeptical.
She yelled toward the house: "You think hiding means I can't find you?!"
"Who's hiding?!" Lance shouted from the second-floor balcony. "Old hag, I'm not scared of you!"
"You little—come down here if you've got guts!"
"Fine, I will!" Lance threw out a Poké Ball, summoned Dragonite, and mounted it. "I forgot I had a mission! Catch me if you can!"
"Draaa~" Dragonite flapped its wings and flew off.
Lorelei stomped in fury. "All that guy can do is fly!"
Then she chased after him.
Flint shivered. "That… that wasn't the Lance I know…"
"Depends who he's facing." Johan shrugged.
When it came to Lorelei, Lance wasn't quite the fearless Dragon Master people thought he was. Part of it was for reasons no one fully understood… but the other part?
Lorelei had a Cloyster, a Lapras—and a Ninetales.
Who taught her to train that Ninetales? Ahem.
"Women are terrifying…" Flint muttered.
STARE.
Three piercing glares from Cynthia and the girls.
Johan immediately slid away from Flint.
I didn't say it.
Lucian quickly averted his eyes, pretending he hadn't heard anything.
"Lovely weather today, huh Lucian?" Johan remarked.
"Absolutely," Lucian nodded frantically.
Too bad it wasn't snowing—if it were, Lucian's mood might warrant a sad ballad.
Cynthia smiled. "Want to sharpen your battle skills, Flint?"
Flint hesitated… then straightened up, shoved his hands into his pockets, and puffed out his chest. He looked at Cynthia and Garchomp with a grin.
"Ha! I'm great at climbing trees!"
Yep. Sometimes, gathering with friends like this… it's just fun.
Aside from preparing for matches, there was joy in the air.
Snowbelle City – Dragonspiral Tower
A young man with light green hair and a cap climbed the icy steps of the ancient tower, eyes scanning the snowy expanse. Everything was black and white, a monochrome world of snow and ruins.
N exhaled into the cold air, adjusted his posture, and continued upward.
He was getting close.
That voice in his head was clearer than ever. He felt it—this was the place.
Each step left a print in the snow. He'd spent days searching for the origin of that voice in his heart, and now he had found it: Dragonspiral Tower.
"Almost there…"
What are Pokémon? What are humans? How should they coexist?
He had answers now. A goal. But to achieve it, he wasn't strong enough yet.
He needed help—more help.
He suspected the voice's identity ever since it led him here.
A lone figure climbing through snow, his steps steady and determined.
He finally reached the tower's summit.
White mist swirled. Dark clouds gathered above, blue lightning crackling.
Most of the world turned black.
BOOM!!
A bolt of blue lightning ripped through the sky. From within it, a silhouette appeared—dark, majestic.
Zekrom.
Its form reflected in N's eyes.
They were far apart, but their gazes met in the air.
"I sense the resolve in your heart."
The thunderous voice echoed in N's mind—clear, deep, electric.
"Tell me your ideal, human."
N's hair blew in the wind. He looked directly at Zekrom, repeating the question silently.
His ideal?
He once felt lost. But now…
N's eyes gleamed. Something radiant burned inside them.
His voice was calm, yet firm:
"My ideal is for all Pokémon to live the life they want."
"I don't wish to be king. I just want Pokémon who need help to be helped. That's all."
Thunder rolled above.
But the storm between him and Zekrom fell into a peaceful silence.
Eventually, Zekrom's expression softened.
"Your resolve… is your ideal."
BOOM!!
Lightning surged. In N's eyes, the black-and-white world began to regain color—Starly's resilience, Herdier's joy, Furfrou's longing, Sigilyph's trust…
All came together into a vivid tapestry.
"You have earned my recognition."
Zekrom stood before him on the summit.
N blinked, then smiled gently. He reached out, placing a hand on Zekrom's dark, metallic body.
"Thank you… Zekrom."
Hummmm…
Suddenly, the scenery shifted. N found himself and Zekrom inside a boundless white space—a realm of thought and connection.
He sat. Zekrom stood beside him.
After a long silence, N spoke again.
"Zekrom… in pursuit of my ideal, I need to find a teacher."
"A teacher?"
N nodded with a small smile.
The first person who encouraged him, supported him, and told him to explore the world.
They hadn't spoken much—but N had followed him online, learned from his actions and values.
"Johan-sensei."
A thought surfaced, forming Johan's image.
"…Him."
Zekrom paused.
"You know him?" N asked, surprised.
Zekrom nodded.
"Before I came to you… I saw him."
"Huh?"
"His resolve is not as fierce as yours… but his conviction surpasses yours."
"Then… you didn't acknowledge Johan-sensei?" N's voice sped up, emotion rising.
"No."
"Why not?"
Zekrom looked toward the distant void.
Recalling the first time he met Johan—a seemingly frail figure, yet surrounded by immense power, some familiar, some not.
"I was afraid… he wouldn't acknowledge me."
N: "…???"
Castelia City – Main Tournament Stadium
The crowd was huge.
Starting from the Top 32, all battles now took place in the main venue. And the stadium could hold even more spectators.
At 10 AM, matches began.
According to rules, the format had changed to 6-vs-3 rotation: players would reveal six Pokémon, then each pick three to use without swapping mid-match.
This added a layer of strategy: revealing your six Pokémon also revealed your tactics.
In the next rounds, rules would evolve—Top 16 to 8 would be 6-vs-4, then full rotation for semifinals and finals.
And yes—mechanics like Mega Evolution, Z-Moves, and Terastallization were allowed.
Not limited to one method, either.
Johan's match was in the afternoon.
With 16 matches to cover, the Top 32 couldn't be wrapped in a single day.
"Looks like it's my turn," Johan murmured, checking his Rotom-dex. His opponent today:
Molayne from the Alola region.
Current director of the Hokulani Observatory, administrator of the Alolan storage system, and expert in Steel-types.
According to Johan's knowledge, Molayne would become one of Alola's first Elite Four members—Steel-type specialist.
That alone made him formidable.
Also, Z-Moves from Alola were a problem.
"Goka!"
Ceruledge spun a piece of metal against its blade, twirling it skillfully.
No fear. Just bring it on.
Johan smiled. "Let's go watch Flint's match first."
"Yoji~!" chirped Larvitar.
Roar of the hungry dragon!
Elsewhere, Molayne—the man known as "Old Molayne"—adjusted his messy bird's-nest hair. With a blue coat, pale blue shirt, and brown slacks, he looked… well, lazy.
"Hey, Old Molayne, are you even allowed in this youth tournament?" asked Sophocles, waving the tournament poster and pointing at the word "Youth."
"Haha!" Molayne scratched his hair. "I've already fought two rounds and no one kicked me out, so… should be fine?"
Sophocles: "…"
That wasn't the point. He meant Molayne looked old. His lazy attitude didn't help.
"Today you're fighting Johan-sensei!" Mallow exclaimed, excited.
They hadn't seen Johan since he last visited Alola.
"He's amazing!" added shy little Lana.
Mallow and Lana had invited Johan to Alola before, but he hadn't come yet. Maybe now they could invite him again.
Lana clenched her fists. This time, I'll show him my fishing skills!
"Don't root for the other side!" protested Sophocles. "We don't know how it'll turn out!"
"Yeah!" said the fiery Kiawe. "I want to battle him too!"
Watching them argue, Molayne chuckled again.
He knew Johan well.
Their mutual friend, Bill, had praised Johan more than once—especially how wild Gengar's evolution was.
Molayne had watched Johan's recent match.
Honestly, that Gengar was one to avoid.
"And I heard from Professor Cozmo that Johan also studies astronomy. Maybe we can chat after the match…"
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Powerstones?
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