[Defeated Iron Valiant…]
[Iron Valiant Pokédex completion +10%]
[Iron Valiant Pokédex completion: 10%]
"Then take me to see the world outside."
"Okay."
Seeing Iron Valiant yield, Jason's mood instantly cleared.
If nothing unexpected happened, by the time they left Area Zero he should have the Valiant's entry fully unlocked.
Night fell, but Area Zero never truly got dark.
Overhead was not a star-pricked sky but an inverted dome of crystal. Ancient clusters, who knew how many millennia old, stood in for the stars, each shedding a soft blue or faint purple glow that outlined this subterranean world and threw broken, shifting shadows all around.
The air was cool, tinged with stone and ozone—a strange blend like a rainy mountain forest mixed with an old server room. It didn't feel fresh in the lungs so much as heavy, a little stifling.
From a distance, there were occasional, far-off calls from paradox Pokémon, echoing through the cavern until any original pitch was lost.
They pitched camp on a relatively flat open patch of rock—dark, gritty underfoot. Cynthia's high-tech tent popped itself up and sealed away most of the under-earth damp.
In the center, a small stack of portable energy bricks burned in place of a campfire: no smoke, no crackling wood, just a steady orange warmth that pushed back the chill and painted warm light across everyone's faces.
Jason's new recruit, Iron Valiant, stood sentry.
It waited at the edge of camp in the shadows, metal plating reflecting a cold sheen under crystal light. Its twin arm-blades remained deployed at minimum output, humming softly. Unmoving, it was like a vigilant statue, watching for the slightest stir.
After losing and agreeing to follow, its biggest reason was simple: Jason said he would take it outside. That promise tugged hardest. And though Jason likely wouldn't beat Valiant at full strength, the potential was obvious.
Even that blonde woman's Garchomp had "told" it—what they'd seen wasn't Jason's true limit. He'd held back out of respect for Valiant's injuries—and hadn't even used his strongest tricks.
That surprised Valiant, and only hardened its resolve: when it was fully healed, it would challenge him again—see his real power. As for going deeper now? It had no objection—curiosity burned. What had changed so suddenly, turning neighbors into land-grabbers?
Beside the tent, the mood was the exact opposite of the outer hush.
"Hup! Ha!"
Nemona was still brimming with energy, green-and-red-streaked hair tied in a high ponytail that snapped with every shadow-boxed punch. She was drenched in sweat, movements crisp in the firelight, muttering to herself as she replayed tactics: "No, no—Jason's Tinkaton used Gigaton Hammer, arc was top-down—how should my team answer that?"
A short distance away, Iono circled Iron Valiant like a curious cat, twin Magnemite hairpins winking in the glow. She kept lifting her Rotom phone to shoot it from every possible "cool" angle. "Nice—this side profile sells it…"
Liko, by contrast, was quiet and gentle. Kneeling on a ground mat, she prepared hot drinks and a simple supper—lining up ration bars and crackers neatly, then carefully pouring warmed milk into cups. Focused, lashes lowered, a trace of unease in her eyes at the alien surroundings—but each time she handed someone a cup, her smile was soft and steady.
Being protected like this… it feels nice.
Cynthia was the picture of poise. Golden hair like a waterfall, a few strands curtaining one eye, she cradled a cup Liko offered and leaned against a smooth boulder, eyes raised to study the crystal canopy rather than the horseplay. From time to time her gaze drifted over the tireless Nemona, mischievous Iono, and the resting Jason; the smile at her lips was helpless and fond.
Jason himself was the most content of all—sprawled as close to the "campfire" as he could get, soaking in the warmth. His jelly body rose and fell softly with the heat, like a purple pudding on the edge of melting. The duel with Valiant had wrung him dry; even now every cell complained. He wished he could just lie here till the end of time.
Haunter—Gast—floated overhead as mood-maker, its vaporous body glimmering. It tried to snatch the wind off Nemona's punches (hands passed straight through), then drifted behind Liko to sneak a cracker—only to get gently tapped on the hand. It scrunched into an exaggerated pout, making Liko giggle.
Jason's Pokémon are as cute as he is…
"Whew!"
Nemona finished a full routine and gulped half her drink, health-flush bright on her cheeks. "Ah! I'm so pumped! I could fight ten right now! Adrenaline's spiking—I don't want to sleep!"
"M-me neither…" Liko murmured, cupping her warm mug. "My heart's racing… thinking we're this deep underground—I can't really sleep."
Jason flipped lazily onto his other side and spoke in his boyish voice: "If everyone's wired and can't sleep… heh. There's one thing that fits this mood best."
All eyes turned—even Cynthia and Iono looked over.
Jason sat up, stacking himself like batter, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Let's tell ghost stories."
Nemona's eyes lit at once; Liko hunched her neck, half-afraid, half-curious.
Jason liked what he saw.
He motioned them closer. Firelight stretched their shadows long and odd across the uneven stone—like something peeking from the dark.
He didn't start right away. Instead, he looked straight at Iono—lingering three long beats on her signature Magnemite pins.
"This one's called The Puppet Streamer." His voice thinned, as if carried from far away. "They say there was a wildly popular female streamer. Her numbers were unreal—ten million eyes every session. To keep it that way, she made a deal with a Magnemite…"
He spun the tale: in exchange for unmatched charm and on-air brilliance, the Magnemite would slowly siphon her soul. The night she pulled an all-nighter and hit ten million followers, her soul was gone.
He paused for effect—then twisted the knife. "But the stream… didn't stop. Because the Magnemite took control of her body."
His gaze slid to Iono's head once more.
"It even brought a partner, and the pair disguised themselves as her favorite hairpins—perfectly set at her crown." He looked at Iono. "With tiny bioelectric pulses, they moved her limbs, her face, her voice—better than alive, more charming than ever."
"Only sometimes, at the very end of a late stream, viewers would see her convulse uncontrollably; joints would click click—like a marionette on strings."
Silence fell; only the energy bricks licked faint light.
Nemona and Liko stared at Iono's hairpins, unblinking, as if their eyes could parse truth from cute metal.
Iono herself blinked, processing. Then she touched the Magnemites and tilted her head, innocent and confused. In a sweet voice: "Huh? So… I already died?"
That caught everyone off guard.
Iono, you…
Jason almost laughed aloud. Perfect feed!
Just as Liko drew breath to reassure her "Don't listen to Jason," Iono's face changed. Innocence vanished, replaced by a grin stretched too wide; her neck tilted to an impossible angle, nearly parallel to her shoulder. Eyes went glassy and fixed, and from her throat came a strangled, wrong voice:
"Now that you mention it, I remember—I did die! Hee-hee-hee… and you… found me!"
She thrust both hands forward, fingers crooked like a zombie, and pulled a hideous face.
"Waaaah!"
Liko shrieked first—reason shorted, survival instinct took the wheel. She launched like a cannonball at the safest place present—Jason—burying her face deep into his soft body and trembling like a terrified bunny.
Nemona, fearless in battle but not in jump scares, yelped and flinched hard, plastering herself to Jason's other side. One hand clamped him into a weird shape as she blustered, "W-what! Not scary! Cheap trick—" but her tight shoulders and quavering voice betrayed her.
Sandwiched between two panicked girls, Jason became a literal "cream filling," feeling their warmth and faint perfume and the tiny shivers on both sides. Internally, he grinned.
Even Gast, who'd floated close for the story, nearly jumped out of its mist—letting out a squeak and vanishing into Jason's shadow. Two beats later it remembered it was a ghost, peeked up sheepishly, face reading mortified.
Only Cynthia kept her composure—snorting a quiet laugh at Iono's pitch-perfect bit, then watching Jason pinned between two girls with open amusement sparkling in her eyes.
After the fuss, Iono quickly broke character, giggling that she was just playing along with Jason's story. The effect had been too good; Liko was pale for a long moment, tears still clinging to her lashes before she dared lift her face from Jason.
Night deepened. They'd played; they'd spooked. Time to rest.
Liko hugged her knees, still trembling a little. She glanced at Cynthia's broad, silver-gray tent and, in a small, pleading voice, asked:
"Um… Cynthia's tent looks like a big one, right? Maybe… tonight… could we sleep together? I… I'm a little scared."
~~~
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