Zygarde Core zips ahead through tangled vines. Its green glow pulses erratic—green, red, green—like a frantic heartbeat. Orion keeps pace, cane tapping firm on mossy ground. Pikachu bounds beside him, cheeks sparking faint yellow.
Branches whip past. Bird calls sharpen overhead.
They burst into a clearing ringed by ferns.
Five figures in black tactical gear lunge at tiny Pokémon. Nets whoosh through air. Darts hiss from guns. A Caterpie dangles from a branch. Weedles scuttle low. Oddish huddle in grass.
"Gotcha now, you little freaks!" one shouts, swinging a net.
Orion halts at the treeline. Pikachu tenses. Zygarde hovers still, lights steadying to blue.
The leader—a stocky guy with a scarred face—lunges at Caterpie. String Shot sprays thick white threads. Net gums up mid-swing. He yanks hard. Threads stretch, snap back.
Thwack!
He topples into a bush, cursing loud.
"Pests! These things ain't normal!"
Nearby, a skinny poacher aims a dart at Weedle. Poison Sting fires first—sharp quills pepper his boot. He yelps, hops. Dart slips. Plunges into his partner's thigh.
"Ow! You idiot—watch it!"
The partner slumps, eyes glazing. "Told ya... tranqs don't stick..."
Oddish cluster tight. One releases spores—purple mist billows. Two poachers cough, stumble blind. One trips over roots, face-plants into mud.
"Can't... see! Boss, this ain't worth it!"
Scarface snarls, swiping at an Oddish. It burrows fast. His net catches air. "Grab 'em rough! Boss wants live specimens!"
Caterpie lowers on silk, bumps his helmet. Sticky goo coats his visor. He claws blind.
Pikachu tilts head, ears twitching. 'Pika?'
Orion leans on cane. "Like Flytraps snaring the unwary fly. Sticky ends for sticky fingers."
Zygarde pulses once—alert acknowledged.
Poachers flail. One net tangles his own feet. He crashes into Scarface. Darts scatter. Pokémon scatter too—Caterpie swings away, Weedles burrow, Oddish roll into shadows.
"Regroup! They're too slippery!"
Scarface wipes goo, furious. "Double the darts! We came for product!"
Orion watches, eyes narrow. Pikachu sparks brighter.
Zygarde Core hovers close to Orion, lights flickering green-red-blue in concern and faint exasperation. Holographic images project: Caterpie's threads ensnaring nets, Weedles' stings repelling darts, Oddish spores clouding vision.
Could intervene. Overwhelming force. Chose observation. Pokémon defend. Intruders fail.
Pikachu nods, cheeks dimming.
Orion surveys the chaos—poachers tangled, cursing through goo and mud. His face hardens, jaw tight. Blue eyes flash cold.
"How long, Zygarde?"
Three hours. Persistent. Ineffective.
Orion grips his cane harder. Voice drops, sharp as a Thunderbolt, laced with rare anger.
"Like thieves ignoring 'Beware of Thunder.' I warned—no forcing partners. Lethal backlash awaits the foolish."
Poachers groan nearby, one clawing free from vines. Zygarde pulses steady blue. Pikachu sparks ready.
Orion steps forward from the treeline. His cane thuds against packed earth. Voice booms across the clearing.
"Stop! Cease this foolishness at once!"
Poachers freeze mid-snarl. Scarface spins, eyes narrowing on Orion and Pikachu. He snorts.
"Beat it, old man. This ain't your picnic. Mind your business!"
Orion's face hardens, shadows sharpening his jaw. He glances at Pikachu. Sparks dance in yellow cheeks.
"Pikachu. Thunderbolt. Make it count."
PIKA... CHUUUUU!
Lightning arcs wild—blue-white forks split the air. Electricity crackles sharp, ozone stings noses. Bolts chain from poacher to poacher.
ZZZAP!
They convulse. Nets clatter. Bodies slump limp into mud, smoke curling from gear.
Silence drops heavy. Zygarde hovers steady, lights calm blue.
Orion turns to the Pokémon. Caterpie dangles from silk. Weedles peek from grass. Oddish shake off spores. His tone softens, warm as sun-warmed stone.
"It's alright now. You're safe. Return to your homes and habitats. You've defended yourselves admirably."
Caterpie chirps soft. Silk whisks it upward. Weedles burrow quick. Oddish roll into ferns, leaves rustling farewell.
Pikachu puffs cheeks, proud. Zygarde pulses once—threat neutralized.
Orion nods to his partners. "Like roots reclaiming stolen soil. Balance restored."
Poachers twitch faint. Distant sirens wail. Clearing empties, forest breath easing deep.
Orion dusts mud from his tailcoat. Sirens wail closer. He glances at Pikachu, eyebrow arched.
"Pikachu, do I really look like some old fogey? I'm only in my twenties."
Pikachu shakes its head fast. "Pika-pi!"
Orion grins, taps his cane. "Thought so too. Maybe the suit? Nah—I rock this green and white. Those poachers? Blind as a Zubat in daylight, dumb as a flopping Magikarp."
Pikachu nods, sparks fading. Zygarde pulses blue approval.
Orion turns to Zygarde Core. Its gelatinous form hovers close, lights steady blue.
"Zygarde, I'll need your help with these… guests." He gestures at the slumped poachers. "They need to be escorted out. And I need to know who's behind this."
Zygarde pulses bright green. Affirmative.
It emits focused sonic pulses—sharp chirps cut the air, rippling outward like thrown stones in a pond.
From forest shadows, canine shapes burst forth. Five Zygarde 10% Formes charge into the clearing. Green-black scales gleam under dappled light. They skid to halts beside the poachers, precise as clockwork.
Each grabs a limp body by the collar. Muscles flex under sleek hides. They drag the intruders firm but careful—no bruises, just control. Poachers flop like caught fish.
Pikachu watches, tail flicking.
Orion crosses arms. "Efficient as a Houndoom pack on the hunt."
One 10% Forme pauses, nods to Zygarde Core. Then they vanish back into vines, hauling their loads toward Pokémon Home depths.
Orion stands tall amid fading ozone. Dark Aura clings to the poachers' gear—muddy threads, oily residue. Twisted intent pulses faint from their forms, cold as shadowed caves. No mistake: bad hearts drive them.
He kneels, sifts a net fragment. Organized clips. Synchronized darts tuned for small targets. Stage 1 Pokémon only—Caterpie, Weedle, Oddish. Not random grabs.
"Too neat. Someone pulls strings." His voice hardens. Playful shopkeeper fades. Eyes narrow, jaw sets grim.
Pikachu sparks agreement. Zygarde Core hovers near, projecting faint grid: dart trajectories, net weaves. Coordinated assault.
"I'll interrogate them." Orion rises, cane thuds earth. "Whoever sent these fools learns Pokémon don't bond by force. Like trying to chain lightning—ends in scorch."
Sirens swell closer. Forest rustles peaceful now. Pikachu hops to his shoulder.
Zygarde pulses once—data compiling.
Orion nods. "Lead on. Time to root out the weeds."
The group moves swift, shadows swallow their trail. Poachers' dark Aura trails faint, a grim promise of answers ahead.
***
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