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The day of the matches had finally arrived.
Inside the vast Silvershore Stadium, the audience roared with excitement.
Though these were only the group-stage battles, every seat in the arena was filled. The hum of the crowd merged with the faint static of the stadium speakers as the announcer's voice echoed out:
"Up next in Group E we have Lanny from Azure City!"
"And his opponent, Achu from Newleaf Town!"
The audience cheered loudly, even for these lesser-known competitors. Shouts, chants, and the blare of horns thundered from every direction.
Standing in the shadow of the tunnel, Lanny kept his head low, eyes closed, steadying his racing heart.
So this is what it feels like…
He'd battled hundreds of times before, but never in a venue this massive. As a Dark Star operative, most of his past missions had required secrecy and isolation. A spectacle like this was new to him.
The blood surged in his veins, his heart pounding like a drum.
"...Haa."
Exhaling deeply, he opened his eyes, determination flashing within them.
Walking out of the tunnel, the bright field spread before him a wide expanse of grass under the blinding lights. The noise of the crowd crashed down like a tidal wave.
On the opposite side stood his opponent, visibly nervous, his stiff posture betraying his inexperience.
Lanny grasped the Poké Ball at his belt, his gaze sharp.
"Battle… begin!"
---
Half an hour later, in the Trainer Center…
Lanny sat in a quiet corner, sipping a bottled drink from a vending machine, scrolling idly through his Pokégear. His demeanor was relaxed.
Once the battle began, his nerves had vanished. He had slipped into the familiar rhythm of command, directing his Pokémon with practiced authority.
And just as he had predicted, his opponent lacked any surprises. Lanny won decisively in a best-of-three, sweeping two straight battles without even needing to call on his ace, Typhlosion.
"Next match… let's see…"
He pulled out the official schedule.
"Tomorrow afternoon, huh?"
That left him time to scout the competition. He turned his attention back to the listings.
"There, That's the one I need to see."
---
Back in the arena, Lanny leaned against the railing of the reserved competitor section, arms crossed as he studied the field.
His eyes fixed on the next competitor a young woman with flowing violet hair that cascaded down to her chest, sharp phoenix-like eyes gleaming with confidence. Her delicate features combined grace and a subtle allure, sharpened by the intensity she carried in battle. A dark skirt accentuated her long, pale legs, strong and elegant.
Zilin.
Heiress to the Poison-type Gym, daughter of the former Poison-type Elite Four member.
She didn't enjoy the same popular spotlight as Nolan, but her pedigree and skill placed her at the very top of the contenders. To Lanny, she was every bit as dangerous.
The match began and ended in moments.
Her Crobat and Salazzle overwhelmed the opponent with ruthless efficiency, their precision leaving no room for counterplay.
Lanny frowned.
"Too quick. I couldn't even study her style properly…"
But the files Dark Star had provided on Zilin made one thing clear: against her, his current team stood little chance.
These prodigies… were born with resources, talent, and trained since childhood. How can I compete with that?
He clenched his fists, silently praying he wouldn't face either Nolan or Zilin in the knockout rounds.
---
The group stage lasted a week. As expected, Lanny swept through his matches with little resistance, finishing with a flawless record and securing first place in Group E.
To his surprise, he had even attracted some attention in the audience. By his last few matches, he could spot small clusters of fans waving signs with his name on them.
It was nothing compared to the massive followings of Nolan or Zilin, but for someone who had lived most of his life in the shadows of Dark Star, the taste of recognition felt strange almost intoxicating.
He shook his head. Focus. The mission comes first. The League isn't about fame. For me, only results matter.
That night, the sixteen qualifiers were summoned to a grand hall, where the knockout brackets would be drawn.
Cameras filled the room, broadcasting the moment live across the region.
Audrey's familiar voice carried over the speakers:
"Ladies and gentlemen, after a week of fierce competition, our Top Sixteen have been decided! Please welcome them!"
Polite applause followed.
"And now, to deliver the opening speech, let's welcome the League Chairman Mr. Damalanth!"
An elderly man with a long white beard and sharp eyes walked slowly onto the stage. Despite his frail frame, the aura he carried silenced the hall.
"Trainers…" His voice, raspy but powerful, echoed through the microphone.
As he began, Lanny sat stiffly in his seat, his expression calm, though the tight clench of his fists on his knees betrayed his nerves.
The moment Damalanth finished his speech, staff wheeled out a small lottery box.
It was time.
The knockout bracket would be drawn.
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