By the time we boarded the flight out of Miami, the terminal lights had blurred into streaks of gold behind my eyes. I must've still been riding the high from the battle, because the second I saw the words First Class on our boarding passes, I felt Zoey's mind spark like a firework beside mine.
Ohhhh, she breathed, settling into the leather seat beside me and immediately lowering it as far back as it could go. This is nice. This is stupidly nice. Why don't you do this more often?
I buckled my seatbelt, glancing around to make sure no one was watching her too closely. To the world, she looked like a bored twenty-something in leggings and a hoodie, scrolling on her phone. Only the faint shimmer at the edge of her illusion gave her away to me.
Wait until you see the hotel I picked out, I projected back dryly. Perks of being funded by terrorists, I guess.
Zoey choked on nothing, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Oh my God, Atrea.
Skyla slid into the seat across the aisle, giving us both a smile before leaning back. "This is… a step up from the bus."
"That's one way to put it," I said.
The moment the flight attendant handed out warm towels, Zoey's thoughts hit me again with the emotional equivalent of a gasp.
We get presents? Why does anyone sit in coach ever? You kept this from me?
Because you'd bully me into flying like this every time, I replied, eyes closed.
Correct.
As the jet lifted off, Miami fell away beneath us, a glittering curve of coastline swallowed by night. Zoey tucked her legs under her illusory "human" form and stole a second drink from the attendant when she wasn't looking. Skyla didn't notice; she had her forehead leaned against the window, watching the lightning flicker softly in the distant clouds over the mountains.
"Everything okay?" I asked cautiously.
"It just feels weird not being in the cockpit."
I looked down. She must've caught my expression because she smoothly saved the mood.
"Not that I don't like all of this, of course."
She leaned in and softly kissed me on the cheek.
Four hours later, the captain announced our descent into Denver.
The city unfurled below us like a blanket of starlight, long roads illuminated by gold, skyscrapers rising like glass teeth, and behind it all, the shadow of the Rockies stretching far beyond the horizon.
I felt Zoey's mind quiet for a moment as she stared down through the window. Pretty place to lose a gym battle.
Wow, I shot back. Inspiring.
I try.
The cold hit us the second we stepped outside. Denver's air wasn't like Miami's. It was sharp and bit at my cheeks like it wanted to wake me up.
We checked into the hotel I'd picked, a towering glass building with gold lighting running up its edges like molten veins. The lobby had marble floors, velvet chairs, and a giant fountain with a sculpted scene of Groudon battling Kyogre looming above.
Zoey whistled in my head. Okay… okay, this is better than first class. I take back every complaint I've ever made about your spending habits.
Skyla stood beside the fountain, staring around with wide eyes. "Atrea… this place is ridiculously expensive."
"I know," I said cheerfully. "It's great."
We rode the elevator up to the nineteenth floor. Zoey kept her illusion up perfectly. Her hands were tucked in her hoodie's pockets as she leaned against the back wall. Even after all these years, her illusions still blew me away.
After Skyla and I had finished gawking at the chandelier for the fifth time, and Zoey was done ransacking the minibar for anything that wasn't bolted down, I pushed open the balcony doors to let in the cold mountain air.
"Simon, you want out?" I asked, already unclipping his ball.
The penthouse balcony was fucking enormous, easily big enough for a whole flock. The city sprawled hundreds of feet below us, the lights sparkling like spilled jewels. When Simon emerged, he stretched his wings with a low rumble that vibrated through the railing.
I forgot how thin the air is up here, he murmured in my mind, tail swaying as he leaned over the balcony.
Skyla smiled and stepped up beside me. "Let's give them a chance to stretch."
She unclipped her own six Poké Balls gracefully and tossed them in a smooth arc. The balcony burst with red light.
Altaria puffed up immediately, cooing at the stars.
Talonflame landed with a clack of talons, wings flaring bright with embers.
Skarmory's metal feathers sang softly as he unfolded to full height.
Swoobat drifted upward in a spin, heart-shaped nose wiggling as she squeaked.
Swellow hopped to the railing immediately, puffing his chest out before settling his tail feathers and staring after the group, sharp-eyed, quiet, statuesque.
"Bit of a loner, that one," Skyla murmured. "He's always preferred watching from a distance. Even as a Taillow, he'd disappear for hours at a time. I used to panic looking for him." She smiled wistfully. "Now it's just… him."
Taylor, Skyla's Swanna, took one look at the penthouse ceiling and leveled an assessing stare at the chandelier.
"Taylor, no," Skyla warned.
Taylor, of course, did exactly as she pleased.
She hopped, powerfully for a bird her size, and landed squarely on the chandelier. The entire fixture swayed ominously, crystal rain droplets chiming together like nervous laughter.
Skyla pinched the bridge of her nose. "Every. Single. Time."
Zoey laughed telepathically in my head. I like her.
Skyla winced. "Taylor! Sweetheart, gentle! Gentle!"
Taylor ruffled her feathers with a grumpy honk, then settled down on the chandelier like it was her birthright.
Skyla turned to me, "Translation, please?"
"She said something about being a queen."
I snickered. "Still majestic, though."
Zoey laughed telepathically in my head. I like her.
The biggest surprise was Swoobat.
She fluttered gently down from her Poké Ball, circled once, then drifted straight toward the L-shaped couch where Zoey, Skyla, and I had taken our seats.
"Oh-" I began.
But Swoobat didn't hesitate. She nosed right into Zoey's side, rubbing her soft, furred head against Zoey's mane like they were old friends.
Zoey froze, ears twitching.
What is happening?
"It's affection," I whispered out loud, amused.
Swoobat wiggled once, cooed happily, then curled right up against Zoey's hip. Within seconds, she'd tucked her wings close, pressed her cheek into Zoey's fur, and drifted off to sleep.
Zoey stared at me, horrified. She's… touching me.
"Be nice," I murmured.
Zoey let out a telepathic sigh and placed her palm gently on Swoobat's head. She hesitantly smoothed her fur in a slow stroke… then another. Swoobat relaxed even deeper, her breathing soft and even.
Fine, Zoey muttered, but there was warmth tucked into it. She's kinda sweet.
I'm just here cause you're warm, tricky fox.
Skyla sat on the other side of Swoobat, her expression softening in a way I hadn't seen before.
"I met her during a police operation in Santa Monica," she said quietly. "We were breaking up a trafficking ring near the pier. They had… a lot of Pokémon crammed into crates. Scared. Hungry. Hurt."
My throat tightened as Skyla continued.
"She was the smallest of them. Tried to defend the others even though she could barely stand. When we got them out, she refused to let go of me. Wrapped herself around my arm the whole night."
"And now she trusts Zoey, apparently." Skyla laughed softly. "Didn't expect that, considering how hard Zoey hit her in their battle."
Zoey tried to look offended, but Swoobat snuggled closer, ruining the effect.
Then Skyla leaned back against the cushions, eyes drifting back up to Taylor.
"You know," she said softly, "Taylor was my first. My very first Pokémon."
I glanced at her. "Really?"
She nodded, her expression warming with memory. "I was twelve. My grandpa used to take me and my mom to Malibu Creek when I was little. We'd go birdwatching every spring. It was always peaceful, just quiet water, and tall grass."
She paused, fingers brushing behind the sleeping Swoobat's ear.
"Except one year when it wasn't. A flock of aggressive Fearow came out of nowhere. They must've been nesting nearby. Grandpa pushed me behind him, but we didn't have a Pokémon with us. I'd never been that scared in my life."
I imagined it, a twelve-year-old Skyla, trembling behind her grandfather as razor-sharp beaks circled overhead.
"But then," Skyla continued, voice softening, "a Swanna landed between us and the Fearow. She was massive. Elegant, but terrifying to a kid. She drove the whole flock off on her own. Didn't hesitate."
A small smile touched her lips.
"I remember standing there with this cheap plastic Poké Ball my grandpa bought me from a gas station. I was shaking so badly I could barely hold it. I didn't even look, I just held it out with one hand while hiding behind his waist with the other."
Taylor cooed from her chandelier perch, rocking the crystals again.
It's been wonderful watching her grow up.
"Then she stepped forward," Skyla whispered. "Touched my wrist with her beak, and nudged the ball. Three clicks for a perfect catch with a ball I didn't even throw."
She laughed softly. "I didn't choose her. She chose me."
A fact you seem to forget sometimes, Taylor teased.
I leaned back into the couch, watching all of them, Skyla's team, each with their own history, their own scars, their own quiet triumphs.
Outside, Flygon and Skyla's aerial trio wheeled together over Denver, their silhouettes cutting across the moonlit sky.
Inside, Swoobat snored against Zoey's shoulder.
For one rare night, nothing went wrong, and all of us were safe and together. That was until a scream cut through the glass.
It wasn't close, but it was sharp enough that my spine went rigid anyway, instinct flaring before thought had time to catch up.
I turned toward the balcony railing, scanning the streets below. Hundreds of feet down, the city still glittered peacefully. Traffic crawled. Neon pulsed. Nothing looked wrong.
Then another shout rose up from somewhere farther down the block. Louder this time.
Zoey leaned on the railing beside me, squinting.
Please tell me that's a drunk tourist.
I listened harder.
Fear carried differently through the air. You could hear it in the way voices broke, in the way they didn't form words so much as warnings.
"That's not nothing," Skyla said quietly.
A deep, concussive boom rolled up through the city a second later. The sound wasn't explosive. It was physical. Like stone hitting stone.
The balcony railing shuddered beneath my hands.
Zoey sighed in my head.
We can't have nice things.
Another impact followed, closer this time. Car alarms began to scream in a ripple down the street like startled birds.
"Alright," I said, already moving. "That's our cue."
Skyla didn't argue. She was already reaching for her jacket, eyes sharp and focused. Taylor lifted her head from the chandelier with a questioning honk, feathers ruffling.
"Stay," Skyla told her gently. "Guard the others."
Taylor's eyes narrowed, but she settled back down, wings folding with regal reluctance.
Zoey's mane bristled faintly as she followed us toward the door, senses already stretched outward.
The elevator ride down felt much slower than the way up. Every second dragged, each distant crash tightening the knot in my chest. By the time the doors slid open to the lobby, the fountain was sloshing violently, water rippling with every tremor.
The revolving doors spun uselessly as we shoved through them.
The cold hit hard. Screams echoed down the street now, clear and unmistakable. People were running. Some tripped over each other, shoes skidding on pavement slick with spilled drinks and melted snow.
Then I saw him.
The Haxorus stood in the middle of the street like something torn out of a nightmare. Cars lay crushed around him, doors twisted open like peeled fruit. One lamppost bent at an impossible angle, sparks hissing where its base had been ripped free.
He roared again, swinging one massive arm down into the asphalt. The street buckled, fissures spread outward as the ground caved beneath the blow.
Zoey swore softly in my head.
And then I saw the collar. The same design. The same ugly familiarity that made my stomach drop out. The same one Team Plasma had used on Scizor when I first encountered him.
"He's being controlled," I said immediately. "That collar!"
"I see it," Skyla said, already moving to herd civilians back with sharp hand gestures. "Okay. Okay. We've got this. What's the plan?"
I didn't hesitate.
"Zoey. Distraction. Keep him focused on you."
Her grin was feral.
On it.
She split into motion, illusions bursting outward in a half-dozen identical flashes. Copies of her darted across the street, vaulting wreckage, taunting the Haxorus from every angle.
The dragon snarled, head snapping side to side as his attention fractured. He swung at one illusion and passed straight through it, roaring in confusion as it dispersed into smoke.
Now, I told Scizor.
He was already moving.
Scizor streaked low and fast, thrusters giving him short, precise bursts of speed that kept him just out of reach. He circled behind the Haxorus, metal eyes locked on the collar.
The dragon stamped again, frustrated, and Scizor adjusted instantly.
A sharp crack echoed as Scizor's claw snapped into the back of the Haxorus's knee.
The strike was as precise as it was powerful. Not hard enough to maim, but enough to disable.
The Haxorus bellowed as his leg buckled, massive body pitching forward just enough.
That was all Scizor needed.
He vaulted upward, claws flashing silver as he seized the collar. Metal screamed against metal as he sheared through it in a single clean motion.
The collar split, and for a split second, everything went dead silent.
Then the Haxorus screamed.
It wasn't rage this time. It was pain. Raw and disoriented, like a sound torn straight out of his chest. He staggered backward, clawed hands scrabbling at his neck as the broken collar clattered uselessly to the ground.
His eyes cleared. And just for a heartbeat, our minds brushed.
I'm sorry.
The words hit me like a punch.
Then he turned and ran.
He hopped over a crushed sedan and disappeared down the street, each footfall shaking the pavement as he fled toward the outskirts of the city.
Zoey's illusions winked out one by one as she jogged back toward me, breathing hard but grinning.
Well. That was rude of him, she said. No thank you or anything.
Skyla watched the empty street for a long moment. "Should we go after him?"
I shook my head.
"No," I said quietly. "Not tonight."
She looked at me, searching my face. "You're sure?"
"He's not going to hurt anyone," I said. I didn't know how I knew. I just did. "He ran because he's scared. And because he's finally thinking clearly."
Skyla nodded slowly, trusting me without question.
"And," I added, exhaustion settling into my bones all at once, "I'm tired."
The city groaned around us as emergency sirens finally began to wail in the distance. I stared down the street where the Haxorus had vanished, the echo of I'm sorry still ringing in my mind.
Tomorrow.
I'd find him tomorrow.