Mt. Moon was, without question, the place Logan knew best in the Kanto region.
Two mighty Garchomp split through the skies like roaring fighter jets, their wings slicing the wind as they weaved between the jagged peaks of the mountain range.
Though called "Mt. Moon," it was less a single mountain and more an endless chain of ridges stretching across Kanto's northernmost borders. For the most part, the vast expanse was untouched by human habitation, its wild nature undisturbed.
Guided by Logan, the two Garchomp descended upon the summit of a towering peak. The riders on their backs leapt down in turn.
"...There are battle traces here. Could this be the place we're looking for?"
Cynthia landed gracefully, her sharp eyes scanning the terrain. Almost immediately, she noticed shattered rocks, splintered and cracked in ways far too unnatural to be shaped by wind or weather.
Kneeling down, she picked up a fragment of stone, rubbing its rough surface against her fingertips. The soft gentleness in her features hardened into focus.
"No… This isn't it. These scars aren't recent. This was just my training ground with Bruno over the past year and a half. The marks here are all from our battles. Pikachu's memories aren't perfect—it tends to suppress or forget what it doesn't want to recall. Yellow could only uncover fragments of a fight in Mt. Moon, but… where exactly? That much is missing."
Logan swept his gaze across the mountain, confirming what Cynthia had already deduced. Nothing here had changed since the day he left. Which meant—this wasn't the place where Red and Bruno fought.
"Little one, are you cold?"
Yellow had just dismounted from Garchomp, and already her thin frame was trembling, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. The higher altitude brought a biting chill, and her light clothes were far too thin for such conditions.
"I-I'm fine, big brother! I can endure it…"
Her face was pale, but she forced a smile, unwilling to admit weakness after insisting on accompanying him here.
"You stubborn girl…" Logan sighed with a smile. "Here, wear this. And if you're still cold, stay close to me."
From his travel bag, he drew out a thick coat and draped it around her shoulders. Oversized though it was, it enveloped her small frame and quickly locked in warmth.
"Th-thank you… big brother." Yellow clutched the collar tightly, her quiet gratitude almost swallowed by the wind.
Cynthia's lips curved in amusement. "How thoughtful. You even remembered to bring cold-weather gear."
"After spending so much time in Mt. Moon, you learn quickly what the environment demands." Logan's tone was calm as he turned to Pikachu. "Can you tell us more clearly, where exactly Red fought?"
"Pika! Pikapi!"
The little mouse raised its paw, pointing toward the distant north—where the mountains rose even higher, their peaks eternally cloaked in snow.
"Even further north…?" Logan frowned, eyes narrowing at the distant white ridges. "Then let's move."
He gathered Yellow into his arms once more, leaping back onto Garchomp's back. The dragons spread their wings, soaring into the cloudy sky.
The weather was turning grim. Thick clouds hung heavy, swallowing the sunlight. On clear days, the snowfields below would glisten like polished mirrors, reflecting the sun's brilliance for miles. But today, the land lay shrouded in gloom.
From above, they could see wild Pokémon scattered across the snowy wilderness. Ice-types prowled across the frozen plains, while Ground-types tunneled unseen beneath the earth. Yet compared to the fertile valleys, the numbers here were scarce. And because survival was so harsh, the Pokémon that did live here were far stronger than average. For ordinary humans, this land was death itself.
The journey stretched long, but Pikachu's fragmented memories offered them direction. The snow had been merciful—no blizzards for days. Tracks left by Red days earlier remained untouched. When Logan and Cynthia spotted clear footprints cutting across the pristine snowfield, they immediately swooped down, withdrawing their Garchomp and following on foot.
The mountains loomed steep and forbidding. Yet to Champions of both Kanto and Sinnoh, the terrain was no obstacle. They had crossed countless extremes before. Yellow, though still young, had spent her life exploring near Viridian Forest. Her body was well-trained, and she pressed on without faltering.
But the wind grew harsher with every step, howling through the cliffs like mournful spirits. Alone, the suffocating silence and absence of life would have crushed the heart of any traveler.
"…Call it luck or misfortune—it's beginning to snow."
Logan extended his hand, and a delicate flake landed in his palm.
"Yellow, stay close to me."
"Eh? Y-Yes…"
She hesitated but obeyed. Logan placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, drawing her nearer. With a single motion, he flicked his Champion's cloak around her, its fabric wrapping her like a shield. The high-grade weave insulated them against the cold—warm as spring despite the storm.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she clutched the cloak tightly, leaning against him for warmth as they pressed forward.
"There—a cave."
Cynthia's sharp eyes caught it first, pointing toward a dark maw in the mountainside.
"Pika! Pikachu!!"
Pikachu squeaked urgently, recognizing it instantly.
"This must be it!" Logan's voice sharpened. "Move—we don't have much time."
The trio quickened their pace, slipping inside. The cave yawned wide, as if the heart of the mountain itself had been hollowed out. Unlike the winding tunnels of natural caves, this one opened into a vast cavern lined with jagged stone formations—its scale resembling an arena.
And everywhere… there were scars of battle.
Walls cracked. Columns shattered. The ground fractured and scorched. Destruction was everywhere.
"This cavern isn't natural," Logan muttered, scooping up powdered stone and rubbing it between his fingers. "Someone carved it out—likely Rock or Ground-type Pokémon. These crushed fragments? Traces of Fighting-type moves."
Cynthia pressed her hand against a frozen wall, her knuckles rapping against the ice. It rang solid and sharp. Her expression darkened. "And this ice… it's no accident either. It's unbelievably strong. Only a true master of Ice-types could have forged this."
Logan's jaw tightened. "…Exactly as I thought. Bruno alone could never have subdued Red. Seeing these signs—Fighting techniques and hardened Ice—we can be sure. He joined forces with Lorelei of the Elite Four."
He let the stone powder slip through his fingers, his gaze sweeping the battlefield. "But the scene's too ruined. Aside from confirming Elite Four involvement, there's nothing here that tells us where your friend was taken."
Cynthia frowned, deep in thought, her finger pressing lightly against her lips.
Logan said nothing—simply held her gaze. For a moment, their eyes locked, tension and understanding sparking between them. Then, as if by silent agreement, they both hurled Poké Balls into the air.
"Dragonair—go!"
"Milotic—battle stance!"
From the shadows of the cavern, a voice thundered back—
"Thunderbolt!"
"Water Pulse!"
The cave erupted with light and sound. They weren't alone. Someone else was here.
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