The world held its breath.
Even the wind, even the trees, stilled for the coming judgment.
Tharion stood at the clearing's edge. Mist swirled at his boots. Shadows curved around his shoulders like a cloak of storm-forged silence.
He raised two fingers.
No sound.
Just movement.
Zeraora vanished in a blink of yellow. Corviknight took to the sky, wings silent. Roserade melted into the underbrush. Absol stayed beside him—ready.
Inside the grove, the poacher turned, unease crawling down his spine. He could feel it. A pressure. One that didn't come from the trees or his scanners.
It came from something older.
And it was already here.
The first strike came from above. Corviknight dropped a sonic burst mid-air—too fast for the human ear, but enough to short every scanner, sensor, and long-range scope around the camp.
Alarms fizzled. Lights blinked out.
Before the poacher could curse, a blue blur zipped past—Zeraora skidding on all fours, clawing through the containment grid. One energy cage shattered.
The Carbink began to move.
Then the mist arrived.
Sweet-smelling, green-laced with faint purple—Roserade's pollen cloud, engineered to disable, confuse, and unravel.
The poacher stumbled, eyes tearing up.
"WHO'S THERE?!"
He didn't see the blade of light—Absol's horn glowing as he cleaved the rifle in half before the man could aim.
Tharion entered last.
Not running.Not rushing.Just walking.
Every step carried the weight of command.
The poacher turned—and froze.
Not because of recognition.
But because some part of his soul knew.
This was not someone you ran from.
This was someone you answered to.
"I've broken no law—" he sputtered.
"You broke the oldest one," Tharion said quietly. "The one that says: You do not harm the helpless."
The poacher raised a backup blade from his boot.
He lunged.
He didn't make it past a single step.
Absol slammed him down. Zeraora disarmed him. Roserade bound him in spore-laced vines.
And Tharion?
He walked past him.
Straight to the dim figure lying behind a crystal field of fractured light.
Diancie
She was curled in on herself. Energy-drained. Her radiant gem cracked faintly near the base.
Tharion knelt beside her.
The moment his hand hovered above her brow, her eyes fluttered open.
Tired.
Afraid.
And then they widened.
Not in fear.
In recognition.
His aura—an ancient comfort. A whisper of protection.
[Blessing of Life activated][Restorative Field Initiated: "Cradle of Stone"]
A pulse of warm, golden energy enveloped her.
Cracks mended.
Her eyes regained their light.
And then…
She smiled.
A soundless, beautiful smile.
While the storm fell in a distant grove, Nina trained.
She hadn't asked where Tharion went. He'd told her in a note that he'd return "before the third sun." It was now the third day.
Instead of worrying, she worked.
Woke up early. Trained with Tharion's ghost-paint targets. Practiced energy channeling with her bracelet. Learned the natural rhythm of Shinx's power surges.
Today, she helped the Bug-type mini-group reweave their burrows after a heavy rain. She calmed a panicked Lotad with a berry bath. She even sat with Ralts again, saying nothing. Just existing.
She didn't realize it at first, but the Leads had begun watching her.
Roserade passed once and nodded.
Hearthmaw, the Fire Lead, sent a young Growlithe to spar with her Shinx.
And when night came…
A new glow shimmered over her bracelet.
[Trainer Bond: Intermediate Tier Achieved][Emotion Affinity: "Nurture" Unlocked][Hidden Potential Detected in Aura Signature]
She gasped and held it close.
Shinx leapt up, excited.
They were getting stronger. Together.
And even though she didn't say it aloud…
She missed him.
When Tharion returned, the sky bled amber and violet.
At his side, Absol walked proudly. Diancie floated gently in a veil of crystalline light, surrounded by five Carbink. Zeraora carried the unconscious poacher bound in thorned vines.
Every Pokémon within sight bowed their heads.
Nina ran across the field, boots kicking up dirt. Shinx at her heels.
She stopped short just before hugging him.
But Tharion knelt.
And for the first time—
He opened his arms.
She hugged him tightly.
"I knew you'd come back," she whispered. "I trained every day."
Tharion placed a hand on her head.
"I know," he replied. "And I saw it."
Behind him, Diancie watched with soft eyes.
For the first time in her life, she felt safe among humans.
Because one wasn't a human alone.
He was Tharion—the storm who walked.