Through the glass windows of the Pokémon House, Cynthia frowned. She had assumed Ethan had some clever defense prepared before stepping into the Primeape's room, but all she saw was him walk in and simply stand there, calm as ever.
"This guy is insane," she muttered, glaring. "He just walked in like he's asking to be beaten up."
She was about to rush in and drag him out when a murmur rose from the volunteers gathered nearby.
"Oh my god—what's with that black mist?" one gasped.
Cynthia turned her head. From Ethan's body, a shroud of black vapor unfurled, hazy and spectral. Primeape's stick came crashing down—but instead of connecting, the blow sliced clean through Ethan as if he were air.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "That's… impossible."
Inside, Primeape was in a frenzy, swinging again and again, its growls echoing through the walls. Each strike met nothing, passing harmlessly through the boy's figure cloaked in mist.
Ethan adjusted a dial hidden in the lining of his Silph Co. ghostweave suit. Earlier, he had cranked the Ghost-type setting to maximum, rendering himself intangible and letting every strike phase through. Now he lowered it slightly. The mist faded, and at last, he felt a muted thump when Primeape's stick struck him. Not painful—more like a firm massage than a blow.
At first, Primeape had been enraged by its inability to land a hit. But now, sensing its attacks finally connecting, its fury began to ebb. Bit by bit, the feedback soothed it, venting its anger into something more grounded.
Before long, Ethan even lay down on the floor, resting leisurely while the furious Pokémon battered him. Outside, the volunteers gaped.
"Unbelievable… he's treating it like a pillow massage," one whispered.
Cynthia clenched her fists. Once again, Ethan's bizarre methods made her feel as if she were being schooled. I would never in my life think of something like this, she admitted bitterly.
Two hours passed. The storm had burned itself out. Exhausted, Primeape slumped to the floor beside Ethan. Quiet filled the room at last.
When Ethan stirred, he pulled a pouch of food from his suit and placed it before the Pokémon. Primeape gave a low growl, then—surprisingly—split the treat in half, offering a portion back to him. Ethan chuckled softly. "See? Polite after all."
The bond meter in his mind's eye ticked upward: -27 → -17. A small but promising leap.
Not long after, Primeape even dozed off against Ethan's side, its breath calm and even. Ethan gently poked its pig-like nose and smiled. "When it's angry or calm, it's like two different creatures. A few more sessions like this, and we'll have it tamed. Even if it means wearing this suit for now—it's a small price."
Slipping free while the Pokémon slept, Ethan stepped out. He walked straight to Cynthia, expression unreadable. "Let's settle the bet."
Grinding her teeth, she finally transferred the money.
"Thank you, boss," Ethan said with a satisfied smirk before turning away.
But there was little time to dwell. His next goal was clear: raise Charmeleon to evolve into Charizard as quickly as possible. Yet with most of the Lavender Gym students defeated and avoiding him, his leveling pace had slowed. He would have to seek wild Pokémon outside town—or, failing that, challenge traveling trainers like the games dictated: no escape once caught in his line of sight. In the last two days alone, he had made four unlucky trainers cry.
Far above Lavender Town, atop a windswept mountain cliff, a tall woman stood gazing down at the quiet settlement below. Her silver hair fluttered in the breeze, her sharp eyes half-lidded with thought. She was Sabrina, the formidable Psychic Gym Leader of Saffron City—known within Team Rocket as Director Sabrina.
Beside her loomed her trusted Alakazam, spoons glinting in each hand, and behind him a cadre of Rocket operatives, led by a bald man named Tem.
"Director Sabrina," Tem reported nervously, scratching his scalp, "all squads dispatched to track the Ice-type have returned."
Sabrina's lips curled faintly. "And? Did you find any trace of this Pokémon?"
Tem paled. "N-no… we haven't seen it in half a month."
The Rocket operation had begun when reports surfaced that much of Lavender Town and Route 8 had been mysteriously frozen. Intelligence suggested it might be the Legendary Pokémon Articuno, or at least an Ice-type of extraordinary power. Giovanni himself had ordered Sabrina to oversee the mission.
But weeks of searching had yielded nothing.
Her expression cooled. "So you've come back with nothing." With a flick of her hand, Tem was wrenched upward by invisible force, dangling over the cliff's edge.
"W-wait! We did uncover information!" he shrieked, legs kicking. "Two strange phenomena occurred in town right after the freeze!"
Her eyes narrowed. "Speak."
"The first was on the afternoon of the freeze. Residents said it was like the end of the world—darkened skies, violent winds, and… spatial rifts tearing across the air. But only for a minute. Then it vanished."
Sabrina's frown deepened. "A distortion of space…"
"The second came the next morning. This time, no rifts—but instead, time itself slowed. Leaves falling through the air drifted like they were caught in syrup, dozens of times slower than normal. The effect lasted only moments before disappearing."
Her gaze sharpened, thoughts racing. Space one day, time the next. Could it be… Palkia and Dialga?
"You aren't lying to me, are you?" she whispered coldly. The Psychic grip around Tem tightened, inching him closer to the cliff's edge.
"Director Sabrina, I swear it's true!" Tem wailed. "I even had two townspeople hypnotized to confirm it! If you don't believe me, ask the others—they all saw it!"
His panic reeked of urine, and the lower-ranking grunts nearby trembled, afraid to meet her eyes.
Sabrina released him at last, letting him collapse to the ground, shaking with relief. But her gaze never left Lavender Town below.
First a frozen city, then distortions of space and time. Something is stirring there. And I will find out what.