Teo woke to the sound of weeping.
Not human.
Pokémon.
Soft, broken sounds—whimpers muffled against stone, like someone trying to cry without making noise.
He sat up, wincing at the fresh ache in his ribs. The migraine had receded to a dull throb behind his left eye, thank god, but his skin still prickled from yesterday's acid exposure. Yumi's salve had left his arms coated in a chalky green film that smelled like crushed pandan leaves and burnt ginger.
The lighthouse chamber was dim, lit only by the faint blue glow of bioluminescent fungi clinging to the walls. Yumi was gone—out gathering herbs, probably. Her Phantump sat silently in the corner, one glowing eye fixed on the far wall, the other socket empty and dark.
But the Lucario…
It was curled in the farthest corner, back turned, shoulders trembling.
Teo moved slowly, not wanting to startle it. "Hey."
The Lucario didn't respond.
Teo crouched a few feet away. "Bad dream?"
A beat of silence. Then, a low, guttural sound—more vibration than voice.
Teo didn't push. He just sat, cross-legged, and began the breathing exercise again. In for four. Hold. Out for six.
After a minute, the Lucario turned its head.
Its eyes were wet.
Not with water. With something thicker. Grief, made liquid.
And then—images flooded Teo's mind, not through the System, but through raw emotional resonance.
A tower. White marble, spiraling into a sky still blue. A trainer—young, maybe nineteen, with kind eyes and a Sinnoh badge pinned to his chest—kneeling before the Lucario.
"You have to go," the trainer whispered, voice breaking. "The Rending… it's coming. I can't hold the barrier much longer."
The Lucario shook its head, gripping the trainer's sleeve with its paw.
"Please," the trainer said. "Survive for me."
Then—a shove. Not cruel. Desperate.
The Lucario fell through a collapsing portal just as the sky above the tower split open like a wound. Behind it, the trainer stood, arms raised, aura flaring bright—
—and then consumed by a wave of violet static that erased him from existence.
Teo gasped, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Oh god. You saw him die."
The Lucario lowered its head, a low whine escaping its throat.
It wasn't just trauma.
It was guilt.
It believed it had abandoned its trainer. That it should have died with him.
Teo crawled forward and wrapped his arms around the Lucario's neck, ignoring the sharp spikes on its shoulders. "You didn't leave him," he whispered. "He sent you away. Because he loved you."
The Lucario stiffened—then collapsed against him, shaking.
[ SYNCHRONIZATION: 48% ]
[ EMOTIONAL BLOCK DISSOLVED — TRAUMA INTEGRATION BEGUN ]
For the first time since they'd met, the Lucario's aura didn't flicker.
It flowed.
Later that morning, Yumi returned with an armful of twisted black reeds and a clay jar filled with glowing blue algae. She took one look at Teo and the Lucario—now sitting side by side, calm—and nodded in quiet approval.
She set down her haul and signed: Now we train. Properly.
She poured the algae into a shallow basin, then crushed the reeds into a fine powder. The mixture hissed, releasing a cloud of violet smoke that stung Teo's eyes.
Toxic spores, she signed. Weakens aura control. Forces precision.
Teo groaned. "Of course it does."
She pointed to him, then mimed drawing a thin shell around his body—Ten. Containment.
"The opposite of Ren," Teo realized. "Instead of pushing aura out, I keep it in. Tight. Controlled."
Yumi nodded. She dipped her fingers into the spore mixture and drew a circle on the floor. Stand here. Breathe. Hold your aura inside. If it leaks, the spores will burn.
Teo stepped into the circle.
Immediately, the air grew heavy. The spores clung to his skin, cold and invasive, seeking any crack in his focus.
He closed his eyes. Breathed.
In. Hold. Out.
At first, nothing. Then—a prickle. A leak near his left shoulder. The spores reacted instantly, searing his skin like acid.
He hissed, stumbling back.
Yumi shook her head. Again.
He tried again.
Failed.
Again.
Failed.
On the seventh attempt, he remembered his lola's words during typhoon season: "When the wind howls, don't fight it. Become still inside it."
So he stopped resisting the spores.
He let them press against him.
And deep in his core, he gathered his aura—not as a weapon, but as a sheath.
The burning stopped.
He opened his eyes.
Yumi was smiling.
[ NEN STAGE 2 ACHIEVED — TEN (AURA CONTAINMENT) ]
[ NEURAL EFFICIENCY: +12% ]
Teo exhaled in relief—then froze.
A sound. From outside.
Not wind.
Claws on metal.
He looked at Yumi. Her smile vanished.
She signed quickly: Scorchclaws. Pack. They smell your aura.
As if on cue, a shriek tore through the ruins—high, hungry, and multiplied.
Not one.
Dozens.
Teo's blood ran cold. "How many?"
Yumi held up five fingers. Then pointed to the sky. More coming.
The Lucario stepped in front of Teo, aura flaring into a steady blue halo—stronger now, focused.
Yumi grabbed her satchel and handed Teo three small clay pellets. Throw. They blind.
Teo nodded. "Alright. New rule—no more gentle training."
He turned to the Lucario. "We're doing this together. No holding back."
The Lucario nodded—eyes sharp, jaw set.
Ready.
Yumi blew out the brazier. Darkness swallowed the chamber.
Then—impact.
The lighthouse door exploded inward.
Scorchclaws poured through—eight, ten, twelve of them, mandibles clicking, stingers dripping venom that sizzled on the stone floor.
Teo threw the first pellet.
It burst in midair, releasing a cloud of blinding white powder. Three Scorchclaws screeched, clawing at their eyes.
"Now!" Teo yelled.
He dropped into a crouch, aura flaring outward in a pulse—Ren, full emission.
The force wasn't strong, but it was focused. It slammed into two Scorchclaws, throwing them against the far wall.
The Lucario moved like lightning.
It didn't use Bone Rush or Close Combat.
It used Nen.
A vow—unspoken but clear—flashed in Teo's mind: "I will not kill unless I must."
Instead of claws, it used pressure points. A strike to a neural cluster. A palm-heel to a joint membrane. Precise. Efficient. Crippling.
One Scorchclaw collapsed, paralyzed.
Another fled.
But more poured in from the broken roof.
Teo's vision blurred. His left eye burned. He'd pushed too hard, too fast.
[ WARNING: NEURAL OVERLOAD — AURA CIRCULATION EXCEEDING SAFETY THRESHOLD ]
[ RISK: PERMANENT NEURAL DEGRADATION — 37% AND RISING ]
"Teo!" Yumi's voice—real this time, not signed. She'd spoken.
She shoved a vial into his hand. Drink. Now.
He gulped it down—bitter, metallic. His vision cleared slightly.
But the cost was immediate.
His hands began to shake. Not from fear.
From nerve damage.
Yumi grabbed his arm. Her eyes were wide with fear.
You used too much. Too soon.
The Lucario roared, standing over them, aura blazing like a beacon.
And then—stillness.
The remaining Scorchclaws froze.
Not out of fear.
Out of obedience.
From the roof, a figure dropped lightly to the floor.
Kaelen.
His Milotic slithered behind him, eyes vacant, mouth glowing faintly.
"Impressive," Kaelen said, voice calm. "Raw. Reckless. But impressive."
He looked at Teo's trembling hands. "You're burning your own nerves to power that aura. How long before your body fails you?"
Teo glared. "Long enough to stop you."
Kaelen chuckled. "I'm not your enemy. I'm your warning."
He stepped closer. "The Veiled Conclave has taken notice of you. A synchronized host in the early days of the Rending? They'll dissect you. Study you. Turn your bond into a weapon."
His eyes hardened. "I offered you clarity. You refused. Now you'll face those who see you as specimen, not man."
He turned to leave. "Survive this night, Mateo Dela Cruz. If you do… perhaps we'll speak again."
He and the Milotic vanished into the ruins.
The Scorchclaws, released from whatever hold Kaelen had on them, fled.
Silence returned.
Teo collapsed to his knees, gasping.
Yumi pressed her hands to his temples, chanting under her breath in a language Teo didn't know—but that felt like home anyway.
The Lucario lay beside him, exhausted but watchful.
[ SYNCHRONIZATION: 51% ]
[ PERMANENT ADAPTATION: NEURAL SCARRING DETECTED — LEFT HAND MOTOR CONTROL DEGRADED 8% ]
Teo looked at his trembling fingers. "Great. Just what I needed."
But he wasn't angry.
Because as he sat there, bleeding, shaking, surrounded by a mute herbalist and a traumatized Lucario, he realized something.
He wasn't alone.
And in this broken world, that was the rarest power of all.