The dew was still clinging to the grass of the Eterna City public training grounds, a sprawling green space adjacent to the local Pokémon Center. The city was slowly waking up, the bells of the ancient clock tower chiming softly in the distance, but for us, the day was already two hours deep.
After a breakfast that could have fueled a small army—mostly thanks to Floette's bottomless pit of a stomach—we had moved straight to the dirt courts. I hadn't left Eterna City since winning the Forest Badge two days ago. Winning that battle had been a wake-up call; raw power and luck weren't going to carry us through the central Sinnoh gyms. We needed finesse. We needed counters.
"Floette, focus. Use Psychic on Sylveon again. Keep the pressure steady!" I called out, wiping sweat from my forehead.
"Sylveon, don't let her pin you. Protect!"
Floette's eyes flared with that eerie, translucent violet glow. The air around Sylveon began to shimmer and warp, the invisible weight of mental energy trying to seize her limbs. But Sylveon was ready. She crossed her feelers, and a shimmering blue hexagonal barrier erupted around her, the psychic energy sliding off the shield like water off a windowpane.
Since the battle with Gardenia, I'd been obsessed with one problem: how to beat the "Unbeatable Move." Psychic was a nightmare. It didn't just deal damage; it grabbed you. It threw you. It turned your own momentum against you. If we ran into a master of the mind, like the Ghost-types in Hearthome City, we'd be tossed around like ragdolls.
"How do we break the hold?" I muttered, rubbing my chin until it was red.
I watched them go at it for another twenty minutes. If Sylveon used a physical attack, Floette just caught her. If she used a projectile like Swift, Floette redirected it. It was a stalemate, but in a real battle, the one holding the Psychic grip usually had the upper hand.
"Wait... the grip requires concentration," I whispered, hitting my palm as the lightbulb finally flickered to life. "It's a channel! You have to maintain the 'link' to keep the control!"
"Floette, one more time! Full grip! Sylveon, this time, don't use Protect. Let her grab you, then use Disarming Voice the second you feel the pressure!"
The two little ones looked at each other, then back at me. They were used to my weird experimental sessions by now. Floette narrowed her eyes, and boom—Sylveon was lifted three feet off the ground, her ribbons flailing in the invisible telekinetic grasp.
"Now, Sylveon! Sing!"
Sylveon didn't try to struggle against the force. Instead, she opened her mouth and let out a piercing, melodious chime. It wasn't just a sound; it was a wave of pure, concentrated Fairy energy that rippled through the air.
REEEEE-CHIRP!
The sound waves slammed into Floette. Because Disarming Voice is a sound-based move, it can't be "grabbed" or "blocked" by telekinesis. The shock of the noise broke Floette's focus for just a fraction of a second. The violet light in her eyes flickered, the psychic grip shattered, and Sylveon landed on all four paws with the grace of a seasoned acrobat.
"Fly-ah! (Did you see that, Jing?! I broke out!)" Sylveon chirped, her ribbons wagging excitedly.
"Perfect! That's the counter!" I cheered, scribbling frantically in my notebook. "Sound ignores the grip. It forces the user to flinch. As long as we have a move that hits the ears, we can break the mind."
This was huge. My next target was the Hearthome Gym, and Melissa was a legend. She wasn't just a Gym Leader; she was a Top Coordinator. Her Ghost-types like Mismagius and Drifblim were famous for using "beautiful" psychic-style manipulations to trap opponents. If I didn't have a way to disrupt their flow, we'd be dancing to her tune the whole match.
"Floette~ (Jing... the training was great and all, but my stomach thinks my throat has been cut... food~)"
Floette drifted over, her wings moving slowly, her big eyes doing that shimmering "I'm starving" routine.
I stared at her, then at my watch. "Floette, we ate an hour and a half ago. A full breakfast. And I've given you three Oran Berries and a Leppa Berry as 'snacks' during the breaks. Where does it go? Are you a pocket dimension?"
"Floette, Floette. (Brain work makes me hungry. Telekinesis burns calories, Jing. Important calories.)"
"Fine, but I'm taking this out of your lunch portion," I said, reaching for my bag on the bench. "If you keep this up, you're going to be too heavy to fly, and then how will you use Psychic?"
"Floette! (Hey! Uncalled for!)" she protested, her ears—or whatever those long petal-growths were—drooping in mock offense.
"No means no. You're on a regulated diet today. And Sylveon, your Disarming Voice was—"
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
The loudspeaker mounted on the side of the Pokémon Center began to crackle.
"Attention: Trainer Julian of Sandgem Town. You have an incoming priority communication. Please report to the video-phone booths in the lobby immediately. I repeat, Julian of Sandgem Town..."
I blinked. "A call? Now? Is it Professor Rowan?"
I looked at my team. They looked as puzzled as I was. "Training's over for the morning, guys. Let's go see who's looking for us."
Inside the Pokémon Center, I wiped my hands on a towel and stepped into the private booth. I punched in my clearance code, and the screen flickered to life. I expected the stern, bushy-browed face of the Professor. Instead, I saw a very different, very familiar silhouette.
"..."
The conversation was brief, professional, and left me feeling like I'd just been handed a golden ticket to a very dangerous factory.
"Is that so? I see... Well, it's actually on the way to Hearthome City. I can make the detour. I'll be there by the end of the week."
The screen went black. I stood there for a second, my hand still on the receiver.
"I can't believe that person actually reached out again," I whispered to the empty booth. "I really should have kept a lower profile at that last conference. My big mouth always gets me into these high-stakes situations."
I walked back out to the lobby where my Pokémon were waiting. Sylveon tilted her head, sensing my shift in mood.
"Change of plans, team," I said, a dry smile forming on my face. "We're still heading south, but we're making a stop. It seems a certain group of researchers and 'high-profile' trainers are gathering for an event nearby. If I don't go, it'll look like I'm snubbing them."
I thought about the timeline. If I remembered correctly, the "Butterfly Effect" was a real danger here. Ash Ketchum wouldn't even be starting his journey for a while yet, and if I got too involved with the major players now, I might accidentally kick over a hornet's nest that the world wasn't ready for.
"We keep our heads down," I told Sylveon. "We watch, we learn, and we don't start any trouble. The last thing I need is to provoke 'those' people before I even have a full team of six."
But as I walked out of the Center and looked toward the Route 206 cycling road, I knew "keeping a low profile" was probably a pipe dream. Trouble had a way of finding people who carried Fairy-types in a world that was still trying to figure out what they were.
"Alright, Eterna City. It's been real. Next stop: Heart-pounding adventures and, hopefully, a very large lunch for Floette."