The forest slept uneasily.
Grant noticed it in the way the leaves barely stirred, in how the freed Pokémon didn't scatter far from the quarry but lingered at the tree line instead. Boldore stood half-hidden among rocks, crystalline bodies catching moonlight like watchful eyes. Roggenrola clustered together, murmuring low vibrations that thrummed faintly through the soil.
They hadn't fled.
They were waiting.
Grant sat on a fallen log near the dying campfire, elbows resting on his knees. Swadloon leaned against his shin, leaf-wrapped body warm and steady. Dewott sat opposite him, shells laid carefully at its sides, gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the flames.
Nyra stood a short distance away, arms folded, eyes scanning the forest like she expected it to blink first.
No one spoke for a long time.
Eventually, Nyra broke the silence.
"They won't forget this."
Grant nodded. "Neither will we."
She glanced at him. "You thinking about him?"
Grant didn't need to ask who.
"White," he said quietly. "Yeah."
Nyra sighed and sat beside him on the log, close enough that their shoulders brushed. She didn't pull away.
"He wasn't wrong," she admitted. "And that's the worst part."
Grant stared at the fire. "I hate that there's no clean answer."
Nyra snorted softly. "Welcome to reality."
Swadloon shifted, pressing closer to Grant. Its leaves rustled faintly, not anxious, resolute.
Grant smiled faintly. "You did great today."
Swadloon straightened a little.
Dewott glanced at Grant, then at the forest, then back again. It tapped one shell lightly against the other, a quiet signal Grant had learned meant restless.
"I know," Grant murmured. "Me too."
Morning brought them some consequences.
By dawn, the quarry was empty.
No workers. No Plasma. Only disturbed earth and lingering tension.
They packed slowly. No one rushed to leave.
Nyra checked her supplies with a frown. "We're lower than I thought."
Grant grimaced. "That compromise paid… but not much."
She glanced at him. "Worth it?"
Grant didn't hesitate. "Yeah."
Nyra smiled, small but genuine.
They were halfway down the quarry road when they saw it.
A flyer.
Pinned to a signpost with surgical neatness.
Nyra tore it down, eyes scanning fast.
Her jaw tightened.
Grant leaned over her shoulder and read.
TEAM PLASMA STATEMENT:
Despite claims of cooperation, humans once again resorted to violence to assert control over Pokémon at Split Roads Quarry. Pokémon were endangered. Force was used. The cycle continues.
Grant felt cold spread through his chest.
"They twisted it," he said.
Nyra's voice was sharp. "Of course they did."
Venipede clicked angrily. Pignite let out a low growl, flames flickering.
Grant crushed the flyer in his fist. "They're building a narrative."
Nyra nodded. "And people will believe it."
Grant swallowed. "Even after—"
"Especially after," Nyra said quietly. "Because the truth is complicated."
Grant exhaled slowly.
"So what do we do?"
Nyra met his eyes. "We keep moving. Keep proving them wrong."
Grant nodded.
But doubt crept in anyway.
They didn't head straight for the next town.
Instead, they turned off the road into a clearing Nyra had marked earlier—flat ground, fallen logs, natural obstacles.
"Training?" Grant asked.
Nyra rolled her shoulders. "We need it."
Grant hesitated. "After yesterday.. "
"Especially after yesterday."
He didn't argue.
Dewott stepped forward eagerly. Swadloon followed more cautiously. Venipede zipped into position, buzzing with restrained energy. Pignite cracked its knuckles, flame steady but intense.
"We will be training under weight", Grant said.
Nyra stretched her arms. "Controlled drills. No overexertion."
Grant nodded. "Agreed."
They started slow.
Dewott practiced Aqua Jet in short bursts, weaving between trees rather than charging straight ahead. Grant corrected its stance, reminding it to angle its shells defensively at the end of each dash.
"Again," Grant said gently. "But don't force it."
Dewott nodded and tried again, cleaner this time.
Swadloon's training was quieter.
Grant guided it through silk control exercises, asking it to reinforce small branches without snapping them, to bind stones without crushing them.
"Balance," Grant murmured. "Strength doesn't mean pressure."
Swadloon hesitated, then adjusted, its silk thinner, tighter, precise.
Nyra watched closely.
"You're teaching it restraint," she said.
Grant smiled faintly. "It taught me first."
Nyra trained her Pokémon too.
Pignite practiced close-range strikes against wooden stumps, Nyra correcting its footwork, reminding it to breathe between blows. Venipede ran agility patterns around the clearing, darting between markers Nyra placed, forced to slow, stop, and pivot on command.
"Speed's useless without control," Nyra said firmly.
Venipede chirred and tried again.
Grant watched her quietly.
She trained hard—but not recklessly.
Still, he noticed the tension in her shoulders. The way she pushed just a little more than necessary.
When Pignite stumbled slightly after a heavy strike, Nyra stiffened.
"Again," she said too quickly.
Grant stepped forward. "Nyra."
She froze.
Grant softened his voice. "They're tired."
Nyra exhaled sharply, then nodded. "You're right."
She knelt beside Pignite, resting her forehead briefly against its. "Good work. Take a breather."
Grant felt something ease.
Later, while the Pokémon rested, Grant sat on a log, staring at his hands.
Doubt was creeping into his mind.
Nyra noticed.
"You're spiraling," she said matter-of-factly.
Grant huffed a weak laugh. "That obvious?"
She sat beside him again. "What's going on?"
Grant hesitated.
Then: "What if White's right?"
Nyra tilted her head. "About what?"
"That even when we try to do good… we're still part of the problem."
Nyra didn't dismiss it.
"That's possible," she said.
Grant blinked. "You're not even going to argue?"
She shrugged. "I don't think the answer is 'stop trying.' I think it's 'be aware.'"
Grant rubbed his face. "I don't want to become the kind of trainer Plasma uses as proof."
Nyra's voice softened. "Then don't."
He looked at her. "What if I mess up?"
She met his gaze steadily. "Then we deal with it. Together."
Grant swallowed.
For the first time since the quarry, he felt… steady.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Nyra bumped her shoulder against his. "Anytime."
Pokémon POV, Watching the Humans
Dewott
Grant doubts himself.
Dewott understands doubt. It sharpens edges,but it can also dull them.
Swadloon has grown stronger. Not louder. Not fiercer. Steadier.
That matters.
Nyra pushes hard, but she listens. Pignite knows when to slow her down. Venipede watches everything.
The humans are not perfect.
But they are trying.
That is… rare.
They were packing up camp when a traveler passed along the road.
White cloak.
Grant stiffened instantly.
But it wasn't him.
Just someone else wearing pale clothes.
Still,Grant's chest tightened.
Nyra noticed. "You okay?"
Grant nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just… on edge."
Nyra glanced at the road. "Plasma does that."
Grant sighed. "I hate that they can just watch."
Nyra's gaze hardened. "Then we make sure they see the right things."
"I know, I'm just paranoid I guess, let's go, leave it."
Grant smiled faintly.
After that they moved forward.
By evening, they reached a ridge overlooking the road ahead.
Lights from a distant town flickered faintly.
Grant adjusted his pack. "Tomorrow, we move on."
Nyra nodded. "Stronger than yesterday."
Swadloon settled beside Grant. Dewott stood tall. Venipede chirred softly. Pignite's flame burned steady.
Grant looked at them, all of them.
"We're not done," he said quietly. "Not even close."
Nyra smiled. "Good."
Above them, the stars were sharp and cold.
Somewhere far away, Team Plasma was already preparing its next move.
And somewhere else, a man named N listened to Pokémon voices that spoke not of liberation or chains;
But of choice.
And that unsettled him more than anything else.