Noctopolis never really slept. Even in the deep hours of night, the skyline burned violet and blue neon veins crawling up the sides of glass towers, streetlights painting the mist in silver hues. From the balcony of the King Estate, the city shimmered like an electric constellation, pulsing with life and secrets.
Down below, the King family's property, a sprawling hybrid of private museum, research complex, and ancestral mansion,stretched across a small hill overlooking the industrial bay. Fossil displays gleamed through the glass wings of the museum, while mechanical cranes moved crates of excavation samples under the glow of holographic spotlights.
Cyrus exhaled, the cold night mist curling around his breath.
"Alright," he said, tightening his gloves. "Let's run it again."
Gengar cackled and melted into the ground, reforming behind his partner in a swirl of shadows. Ceruledge turned, parried, and drove its arm-blade into the mist.
From the fence line, Tyrunt watched impatiently, tail swishing, while Ditto copied its stance and tried to roar back (sounding more like a squeaky door). Tyrunt roared, chasing Ditto, who had transformed into a copy of Ursaluna about a tenth of the size but just as ferocious.
Over by the outer labs, Meltan had found something new to chew on — a high-grade capacitor, if the popping sparks were any clue.
"Meltan!"
Dr. Maren Rei-King's voice echoed from the doorway. "Not again! That's government-issued tech!"
Meltan blinked and swallowed the capacitor whole.
Cyrus chuckled. "He's just testing voltage thresholds, Mom."
"He's testing my patience."
Cyrus tightened his gloves, stepped into the open training yard, and snapped his wrist. The holographic barriers shimmered to life, surrounding him in a lattice of light.Ghost-type projections materialized from the dark, floating and fading in ripples of pale blue.
"Ceruledge, shadow parry. Gengar, phase through on his blind side."
Blades met phantom claws. Shadows bent and broke apart. The clang of metal and the faint hum of spectral energy echoed through the yard.
Ditto then transformed into a wobbly version of Gengar, wide grin, jagged eyes, before tripping mid-levitate and flopping into the dirt with a splat.
Gengar pointed and howled with laughter, rolling in the air."Gen-gen-gen-gaaaar!"
Cyrus rubbed his forehead. "You're supposed to train, not roast your teammate."
Ditto oozed up, reshaping into a smug caricature of Cyrus with exaggerated crossed arms. Gengar gave it a thumbs-up.Cyrus sighed. "Yeah. Real funny."
Hours later, the King estate was still buzzing.Tyrunt pounded against reinforced targets with short, powerful bursts.Meltan happily devoured spare wiring in the lab annex.Cyrus jotted data onto a holo-slate, muttering under his breath:
Ceruledge: peak form, fluid motion.
Gengar: evasive pressure.
Tyrunt: controlled aggression.
Ditto: unpredictable mimic.
Meltan: … still eating metal.
Ursaluna (Bloodmoon): recovery stable, no battle usage yet.
He leaned back, tapping the slate with a stylus. The Noctopolis Gym Leader was a ghost specialist—known for mental traps, illusions, and dragging challengers into their own fears.Exactly the kind of opponent he liked least.
He didn't hear the voice at first—just the faint shimmer in the air.
"Ooooh, Cyrus is frowning again~,"it sang, lilting like wind chimes out of tune."So serious, so stiff, so boring!"
Cyrus didn't even look up. "You're one to talk. Don't you ever rest?"
A giggle spiraled through the air, then—pop!—Hoopa appeared upside down, swinging one of its rings like a toy. Its eyes gleamed with mischief, golden irises swirling faintly.
"Rest? Rest is for sleepyheads! Hoopa's not sleepy~ Hoopa likes watching you do the same thing over and over and over again! Haaaah~ so dull!"
Cyrus cracked a half-smile. "You could help, you know."
"Help? Help is no fun! Hoopa likes to watch. You flail, you worry, you make funny faces."
It floated closer, peering at him with an exaggerated pout.
"You don't laugh much, Cyrus. You should laugh! Even your ghost laughs!"
From behind him, Gengar snorted. Ditto copied the motion. Cyrus sighed.
"Alright, fine," he said, brushing dust from his sleeve. "You want to see something entertaining? Stay out of the way tomorrow. I've got a Gym battle."
Hoopa twirled lazily, upside-down again, its voice sing-songing.
"Battle-battle-baaaatle~ So many words for fighting! What do you win, hmm? A shiny trinket? A pat on the head?"
Cyrus gave a tired smile. "A chance to get stronger."
"Ohhh, stronger!"Hoopa clapped its tiny hands."Then maybe you won't break so easy next time something fun happens~"
"Hoopa," Cyrus warned.
"Kidding! Maybe. Heehee~"
And with that, it popped out of existence—rings fading with a faint jingle.
Night dropped like a curtain. The field dimmed, the estate lights flickering into standby.Cyrus stood alone at the fence, watching Ursaluna (Bloodmoon) pace slowly across the open yard, the glow of its lunar fur faint beneath the stars. The great beast turned its head slightly, snorting once in acknowledgment.
"Still keeping an eye on me, huh?" Cyrus murmured.Ursaluna grunted softly, paw pressing into the dirt.
Ceruledge appeared at his side, silent, blade tips flickering like candlelight."Yeah," Cyrus said. "Tomorrow's the test. Ghosts and tricks and all the lovely things I don't like. Guess we'll have to play their game."
A faint hum from the sky—one of Hoopa's rings flickered briefly between the stars, like an eye blinking. Then gone.
Cyrus didn't see it. But Hoopa did, and its soft voice giggled across the distance:
"Heeheehee~ Let's see if the shadow-boy can dance with the dark~"