The blow had been heavy. Floragato's consciousness wavered at the edges, blurring like a flame caught in wind, and the world around it seemed to grow distant and soft. But in that dimming space, one image held steady: Nova's face.
"Still can't do it?"
"Is this body still unable to become your ace?"
"That's enough, Floragato. You've already done really well."
Nova's voice, warm and familiar, began to fade in Floragato's ears all the same.
On the sideline, the referee was already lifting the flag.
Floragato's small body trembled against the arena floor. Its legs refused to cooperate, and yet, slowly, stubbornly, it pushed itself upright.
This kind of thing.
This kind of thing, I won't allow.
"Floragato..." Nova breathed.
The answer came not in words but in the flash of white light that burst across the arena.
It wasn't the first time today. But this time it was different. The glow was stronger, steadier, and it seemed to come from somewhere deeper than the body itself. Floragato's small feline frame began to lengthen and reshape within that brilliant light, limbs extending, silhouette shifting, like a seed pushing through packed earth and finally breaking into open air.
Gilbert crossed his arms, watching with an expression that sat somewhere between disbelief and genuine admiration.
Even as an Elite Four member who had spent decades in competitive battles, he had never once seen a Pokemon evolve twice in the same match.
"Hold on," he called out, his raspy voice carrying clear across the arena. "Kid, are you actually hacking? Is a Pokemon even allowed to evolve twice in one battle?"
Nova himself couldn't quite believe it. Rationally, he understood it was possible. Floragato had been at level 42, more than high enough to meet the conditions for reaching its final stage. He'd read about it, even — in the Pokemon Special manga, there was a scene where Piplup completed back-to-back evolutions after the Everstone was removed, going straight to Empoleon in the space of a single fight. But that was a comic. This was the real world.
Every evolution was a physical restructuring. The body broke itself apart and rebuilt from within. Even for a Pokemon with talent as extraordinary as Floragato's, pulling that off twice in a single battle went far beyond anything Nova had dared to expect.
He thought about what made Floragato different from any Pokemon he had ever known. What had been growing in it, quietly, since the very beginning. A bond that had deepened through every shared meal, every training session, every small moment of trust. That feeling was real, and it had always been real, and right now it was the only explanation that made sense.
Gilbert, for all his battle experience, would not have been so generous under different circumstances. Had this been a serious match, he would have ordered Whiscash to attack immediately, evolution mid-process or not. Disrupting a forced evolution could leave lasting damage on the opposing Pokemon, and Gilbert knew that. In a genuine fight, he wouldn't have hesitated.
But this was an exhibition. Nova was a junior he genuinely liked, and the match they had agreed to was about effort and growth, not about grinding the other side into the ground. There was also the simple matter that Whiscash wasn't in any condition to strike right now. The exertion of Thrash had left it disoriented, and the probability of it responding cleanly to a command in its current state was low.
So Gilbert waited. He watched the evolution complete, and he let himself appreciate it for what it was.
When the light faded, Meowscarada stood where Floragato had been.
It crossed its long legs and extended both arms out to either side, tilting its body back into a pose that was at once effortless and theatrical. Its petal-colored eyes swept across the arena. Then it looked back over one shoulder, toward Nova on the trainer's platform, and the look it gave him said everything its voice could not. There was pride in it, and playfulness, and the particular warmth of someone who had just done something difficult and wanted you to see.
It had made a promise. It intended to keep it.
Gilbert's voice cut through the moment like a splash of cold water.
"Alright, alright. Very touching. But in case you two forgot, we are in the middle of a battle." He pointed a finger at Nova. "If you want to have a moment with your Pokemon, fine, but don't go thinking I'm just going to stand here and be part of your little show. My old partner and I are right here, kid."
Nova laughed despite himself. Gruff, direct, and somehow still good-natured. He and Mort must have shared one very particular kind of teacher. The old man looked completely respectable on the outside, but the way that brain of his worked was something else entirely.
Still, he was right. Gilbert had already shown real sportsmanship by standing back and letting the evolution finish. The least Nova could do was answer it properly.
"Meowscarada," Nova said, voice steady. "Ready?"
The flower bud at Meowscarada's side spun once, rapidly, and the motion carried every answer it needed to give.
"Use Flower Trick!"
"Whiscash, Aqua Jet!"
Meowscarada snapped its fingers. The bud vanished from its side in an instant, reappearing directly above Whiscash a heartbeat later. Then it detonated.
Flower Trick was Meowscarada's signature move. A Grass-type physical attack with a base power of 70, it carried a property that made it unlike almost any other move in existence: it always landed, and it always struck a critical hit. No evasion stat, no luck, no defensive positioning could change that. The attack simply connected, every time, with full force.
Gilbert had known it was coming. He'd had Whiscash use Aqua Jet not as a counterattack but as a shield, wrapping its body in a surge of pressurized water before bracing for impact. It was a smart call. The rushing water could cushion the blow while Whiscash recovered its footing.
The two attacks collided in the center of the arena with a sound like a thunderclap.