The rhythmic scrape of Elias's boots on the grating ceased. The two grunts halted, their breathing heavy from dragging his dead weight through the corridors. They stood before a featureless, brushed steel door, far more imposing than the cell's.
Ariana slid a keycard from her sleeve. A soft beep, a hiss of hydraulics, and the door slid open.
She strode inside, her chin held high.
"Boss. We have the asset."
The room was the nerve center. Monitors lined the curved walls, displaying schematics, security feeds, and encrypted data streams. In the center, in a high-backed leather chair that faced away from the door, sat Giovanni. One hand idly stroked the sleek fur of the Persian resting across his lap.
"Excellent work, Ariana."
The chair began to turn.
The grunts hauled Elias forward, letting him slump to his knees on the floor. His head lolled, white hair obscuring his face.
Giovanni finished his turn, his eyes taking in the bound figure. A faint, satisfied smile touched his lips.
"The Novice Clash Champion. The boy who defeated Archer. You have caused quite a stir, Elias."
He leaned forward, the Persian observing with lazy, golden eyes.
"I am curious. What drove a child with such… potential… to interfere with my operations? Was it simple heroism? Or something more—"
BOOOOOM!
The entire mountain seemed to shudder. A violent tremor rocked the room. Monitors flickered. One screen, displaying the external feed of the hangar entrance, turned to static for a split second before resolving into a scene of chaos.
It showed the massive door blasted inward, twisted metal hanging like ragged petals. Through the smoke and debris, a draconic silhouette descended, and on its back, a figure with platinum hair.
Giovanni's smile vanished.
"The Undisputed Champion." He murmured, his gaze fixed on the screen as Caesar and Noivern vanished into the interior, a wave of panicked Rocket grunts scrambling to meet them. "Caesar Monarch."
His eyes flicked back to Elias, kneeling on the floor. The boy had lifted his head at the explosion. The curtain of white hair fell away, revealing his face fully to Giovanni for the first time.
The blood-streaked pallor. The sharp gray of his right eye, now fixed on the monitor showing Caesar's assault. And the left…
Giovanni's own eyes widened a fraction. The Persian in his lap tensed, a low growl rumbling in its throat.
"Now, this is interesting..." Giovanni said, his voice now a whisper of pure intrigue.
On the monitors, the chaos of Caesar's frontal assault unfolded—flashes of light, scrambling figures, the distant roar of Noivern's attacks. But in the quiet, secure heart of the mountain, Giovanni's attention was no longer on the Champion at his doorstep. It was locked on the boy with the starfield in his eye and the ghost of a legendary will burning in its core.
"Ariana." Giovanni commanded, never looking away from Elias. "Divert all available units to contain the Champion. Crush him. I do not wish to be disturbed."
He rose from his chair, the Persian leaping gracefully to the floor. He took a step towards Elias, his shadow falling over the bound boy.
"Now..." Giovanni said, a slow, hungry smile returning to his face. "Let us see if that really is the key."
***
Outside the mountain...
The ascent was brutal.
What had looked like a challenging climb from the plateau was proving to be a grueling, hand-over-hand slog up near-vertical rock faces. Anne's breath came in ragged gasps, the thin, cold air of the high altitude searing her lungs. Her beautiful, flowing pink maxi skirt, which had seemed like such a clever disguise in Talroc, was now a nightmare. It snagged on every jagged outcrop, tangled around her boots, and billowed dangerously in the updrafts.
"Ugh, stupid!" She grunted, hauling herself onto a narrow ledge. She looked down at the ruined, mud-stained fabric hampering her every move.
With a fierce tug, she grabbed a handful of the skirt at her thigh. She pulled, the fabric resisting for a moment before tearing with a loud rip. She did it again on the other side, creating rough, asymmetrical shorts that ended just above her knees. She tossed the torn remnants over the edge, watching them flutter down into the abyss.
"Better." She muttered, wiping her grimy hands on Elias's leather jacket, which she still wore.
Above her, Decidueye moved. Its claws finding cracks on the sloppy ground. Alpha Scraggy simply powered its way up, using its raw strength to smash small handholds where none existed, sending showers of pebbles down. Staravia circled, its sharp eyes scanning the rock face, letting out occasional, frustrated chirps.
"Anything?" Anne called up to Decidueye, her voice strained.
Decidueye shook its head, its feathery hood rustling.
They were near the summit now, the wind whipping fiercely, scouring the rock clean. Anne was beginning to doubt her theory. What if the vents were internally baffled? What if they were just… invisible?
Then, Staravia let out a piercing, triumphant cry. It dove from its circling pattern towards a seemingly section of the summit's shoulder, just below the highest peak.
Anne squinted, following its path. All she saw was dark, weathered stone.
But Staravia landed, its talons scratching. It began pecking insistently at a specific spot, then turned its head and cried out again, flapping its wings urgently.
"There! Go!" Anne commanded.
Decidueye reached the spot first. Using its sharp talons, it began to carefully pry at the edge. It wasn't rock at all, but a expertly crafted, textured composite designed to mimic the surrounding granite.
With Decidueye and Alpha Scraggy both working at it, a seam appeared. With a final, grating screech of artificial stone against metal, they pulled a large, circular grate free, about three feet across.
A rush of warmer air flowed out, carrying the faint smells of oil. The sound was a deep, steady whirrrr from far below.
Anne scrambled up the last few feet and peered down into the shaft. It was a vertical drop, lined with slick metal, disappearing into pitch blackness far below. Dim, widely spaced maintenance lights formed a dwindling line into the abyss.
Her stomach lurched. It was a long, long way down.
But it was their way in.
"This is it." Anne said, her voice barely a whisper against the howling wind. She pulled a slim, high-tensile grappling line and ascender from her sling bag. She secured it to a heavy-duty anchor point Decidueye had helpfully carved into the real rock beside the shaft.
She hooked the ascender to her harness, gave her pokemon a determined nod, and without another moment's hesitation, stepped off the edge of the world and into the dark, humming throat of the Mala's Spine.
***
Hangar Bay...
The hangar bay was a scene of chaos. Smoke from Noivern's initial Boomburst hung in the air, mixing with the ozone stink of unleashed electricity. Grunts in black scrambled, shouting contradictory orders, releasing a disorganized swarm of Zubat, Koffing, and Rattata.
Noivern was a whirlwind of devastation. A single supersonic pulse would send a cluster of lesser pokemon crashing into each other, disoriented and shrieking. A flick of its tail would sweep a makeshift barricade of crates and men aside like twigs. Caesar was a statue of focused wrath. He didn't issue commands, he pointed. A sharp gesture, and Noivern would slice through the air, disarming a grunt aiming a net-cannon. A glance, and a Dark Pulse would shatter a light array, plunging a section of the bay into confusing shadows.
The alarms were a constant, deafening shriek, a beacon drawing every Rocket towards him.
He burst from the hangar into a wider corridor. Here, the resistance hardened. The grunts were more organized, and their pokemon evolved.
"Noivern, use Hurricane!"
Noivern roared, and a miniature tempest erupted from its wings, howling down the passage. It ripped the toxic clouds apart, sent Golbats pinwheeling into walls, and forced the Houndoom line to brace, flames guttering.
He turned a corner into a large, vaulted chamber, clearly a staging area. And there, his momentum finally met a resisting barricade.
The room was packed with two dozen grunts, their pokemon at the ready, forming a solid wall of black uniforms and hostile eyes. But they weren't the problem.
Standing before them, flanking the only exit on the far side, were two men who radiated malice like heat.
To the left, Petrel, his lanky frame draped in his uniform, a sneer plastered on his face as he idly bounced a ultra ball in his hand. To the right, Proton, looking refreshed and intensely pleased, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Well, well..." Proton drawled, his voice slicing through the alarm din. "Look what the Meowth dragged in. The big Champion himself. Come to give us a lecture on civic duty?"
Petrel chuckled, a wet, unpleasant sound.
"He picked the wrong classroom. This school's got a strict detention policy. Permanent."
Caesar held Noivern to a halt. It landed with a heavy thud, its wings folding, its chest heaving slightly from the exertion but its eyes blazing. Caesar's own gaze swept over the two Admins and the wall of grunts.
Proton took his silence for shock.
"Lost your silver tongue, Monarch? Don't worry. You won't need it where you're going. There's no way you're getting out of this mountain.".
"You misunderstand." Caesar said, stepping forward slightly on Noivern's neck. His eyes held Proton's, then Petrel's. "I forced my way in. What in the world makes you think I have any desire to get out?"
Proton's smirk faltered for a second, replaced by a flicker of anger. Petrel's sneer deepened.
"Big words for a man with one tired pokemon." Petrel spat.
"One is enough." Caesar replied. He raised a hand. "Noivern. Let's remind them what a Champion is."
The air in the chamber grew thick, charged with a different kind of pressure.
Petrel's sneer widened into a cruel grin.
"You want a lesson? We'll give you one you won't forget." He hurled his ultra ball. "Weezing! Fill this room with misery!"
The ball burst open, and the floating, double-headed poison pokemon materialized with a gurgling hiss. Immediately, thick, purple smog began to pour from its pores, rolling across the floor and coiling upwards.
Proton flicked his own ball with a casual wrist.
"Granbull. Let's show this 'Champion' what real power looks like. Thunder Punch!"
Granbull reappeared, landing with a thud. Electricity crackled to life around its massive fist as it lowered its head and charged.
"Don't let the smog settle!" Caesar commanded. "Noivern, use Tailwind! Keep the air moving, blow it back at them!"
Noivern beat its wings to create a controlled gale. A fierce Tailwind erupted around it, swirling the advancing smog, disrupting its spread and pushing the toxic tendrils back towards Petrel and the line of grunts. Several grunts coughed, staggering back.
But Granbull was almost upon Noivern, its Thunder Punch drawing a sizzling line through the disturbed air.
"Now, dodge and counter! Dragon Pulse!"
As the electrified fist swung, Noivern folded a wing and dropped its shoulder, letting the punch graze harmlessly past. At the same moment, it opened its maw, and a torrent of raw, violet dragon energy erupted point-blank into Granbull's side.
BOOM!
Granbull roared in pain, skidding sideways, its charge completely broken, electricity sputtering out.
"Don't let up, Weezing! Use Sludge Bomb on Noivern!" Petrel shrieked, covering his face from his own rebounding smog.
Weezing gurgled, and a sphere of vile, toxic sludge coalesced between its heads, shooting towards Noivern.
"Noivern, use Air Slash!"
Noivern's wing glowed white and swept down in a sharp arc. A crescent of compressed air shot forth and met the Sludge Bomb mid-air. The two attacks detonated in a spray of poisonous gunk and shredded wind, spattering the walls and floor.
The brief exchange left Caesar and Noivern untouched, but the message was clear. They were pinned. The two Admins, working in crude tandem, were a significant roadblock. Noivern was tiring, and Caesar could feel the precious seconds bought for Anne slipping away. He couldn't afford a protracted battle here.
Not alone.