Just as Lance was lost between pride, frustration and hesitation, a sudden shout cut the tension like a blade.
"Pikachu — now!"
The voice belonged to none other than the tiny girl — Yellow.
Logan and Cynthia stiffened, shocked. Under the oppressive clash of Zekrom vs Mewtwo, with lightning shredding the sky like spears, Yellow was the one who moved first — fearlessly striking during the instant Lance let his guard slip.
"!!!"
Lance's eyes widened — too late.
A streak of yellow moved like a bullet.
No one even noticed when Pikachu leapt onto Lance's Dragonair — scampering along its serpentine back — electricity bursting from its cheeks.
"Wuaaa—!"
A bolt snapped across Lance's body.
He staggered, barely grabbing the dragon's horn to avoid falling. His majestic red cape — previously dramatic and regal — now smoked and tore like burnt cloth. His clothes blackened, hair frizzed, pride shattered.
He wasn't injured seriously —
but the humiliation was worse than pain.
Face twisted, Lance roared:
"Dragonair — Hyper Beam!!"
Rage clouded his judgment. A beam of destructive light spiraled after Pikachu like a heat-seeking missile — weaving, twisting, chasing.
But Pikachu was trained by Red — experienced in running from Hyper Beam like prey from a predator. Its tiny paws danced across the dragon's scales, agile like lightning itself.
"Pikachu! Come back!"
Yellow called.
Pikachu fired a small jolt at the beam — reversing its own momentum — flipping off Dragonair and landing beside her safely in three rapid hops.
The swirling beam ultimately crashed harmlessly into the sea, spraying water skyward.
Logan grinned.
"Beautiful work, Yellow."
Yellow blushed bright red, gripping her hat shyly.
Cynthia and Green stared at the girl with awe. They'd watched her grow — from someone who barely understood battles — to someone who could strike at the Champion of Kanto himself. Her judgment, timing, analysis — spot on.
Lance, however, was humiliated.
A grown man. A revered Elite.
Bested, even momentarily,
by a 10-year-old girl.
Fury burned inside him — but as he focused on Yellow, his expression changed.
Eyes widened.
"…The Viridian power?"
Joy replaced rage — wild, feverish joy.
"Hahahahaha!! So this is fate!"
He clenched his fist as lightning swirled behind him, laughter rising like a mad prophet.
"You — the Dragon heir!
And she — the Viridian child!
Two chosen forces meeting me today… this is destiny!"
His voice trembled with ecstatic conviction.
To him, this wasn't a battle — it was a divine sign.
A proof that his Ideal world was meant to be.
If he could defeat them —
and make them follow him —
Utopia was within reach.
He forced his emotions down, mind sharpening.
He assessed the battlefield coldly:
Yellow — impressive, but still too green.
• Green — injured, not at full strength.
• Cynthia — a threat, but secondary.
• Logan — the true wall standing before him.
His eyes narrowed.
His two Dragonair, exhausted from destroying Vermilion City's coastline, hovered weakly.
Logan's entire team?
Rested. Ready.
And Mewtwo stood with him.
The power scale tipped — painfully — against him.
Retreat made sense.
Live now, fight later.
He inhaled, prepared a dignified exit speech—
But Logan spoke first.
"That's twice you lost focus, Lance.
Confidence is fine — delusion is not."
Lance froze.
Logan saw it.
The weakness.
The exact window.
"Hold off Zekrom for me — just for a bit."
He instructed Cynthia and the others.
Mewtwo met Logan's eyes — no words needed — then nodded.
A psychic spoon formed in its hand.
And without hesitation —
Mewtwo charged directly at Lance.
He ignored Zekrom completely.
He wasn't aiming for the dragon.
He was going for the trainer.
Lance's blood ran cold.
"Retreat—! Dragonair, back!"
Too late.
He threw a Poké Ball with frantic urgency.
"Aerodactyl!"
The fossil dragon screeched into existence — wings like blades — intercepting Mewtwo mid-air.
Metallic wing met psychic spoon — sparks flying like fireworks.
CHINK—! CHINK—! CHINK—!
Tens of clashes within seconds — but Aerodactyl was being pushed back steadily, wings shuddering under the psychic blows.
Mewtwo did not relent.
Meanwhile, both Logan and Cynthia released their Garchomps — the desert dragons leaping into the storm, grinding through Zekrom's lightning aura by sheer force of will.
They couldn't defeat Zekrom.
But they didn't need to.
Just stall.
Yellow watched speechless as Logan's voice cut through thunder:
"Eevee!"
The brown Pokémon on his shoulder nodded — and light burst around it.
A sleek form emerged — Espeon — then vanished.
Teleport.
Appearing high above Lance — directly overhead.
Logan raised his chin, eyes burning with challenge.
"Lance — watch closely."
Lightning cracked between heaven and earth.
Wind roared like dragons screaming.
"I'll show you true mastery of Dragon Power."
"This is a Dragon born of evolution itself—"
Espeon's body shone with blinding white radiance.
Fur lengthened. Aura twisted.
Light warped into scales.
Psychic became draconic.
A silhouette of wings and serpentine grace formed midair.
Lance stared — breath gone.
Espeon was evolving again.
Not into a normal form.
Something else.
Something forbidden.
Something never recorded in Pokédex history.
Logan's voice thundered:
"—a Dragon beyond nature."
"The only one of its kind in this world."
Espeon transformed.