The world was nothing but a ringing, throbbing pain behind her eyes. May pushed herself up, her hands slipping on grit and powdered concrete.
Every muscle screamed a protest, but the frantic buzzing in her skull was worse. It was a raw, insistent shriek that pulled her forward through the thick smoke.
Her vision swam, refusing to focus. She blinked hard, and the shapes of her friends emerged from the haze.
Kamala and Doreen were half-buried under a tangle of metal conduit and shattered concrete. They weren't moving. The sight of their still forms sent a cold spike through her chest that cut right through the pain.
A tiny, determined chirp cut through the ringing. Joltik was already there, his tiny legs scrabbling at a chunk of rubble pinning Doreen's arm.
He was trying to dig them out. The little spark of yellow mirrored the frantic beat of May's own heart. He needed her help.
She crawled forward, ignoring the hot scrape of debris against her knees. The Spider-Sense wasn't a warning anymore—it was a compass, a painful pull urging her toward her friends.
"Hold on," she whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was talking to Joltik or to the two quiet figures in the wreckage. She just had to reach them. That was all that mattered now.
May's breath came in short, sharp puffs as she pushed the heavy beam aside, her hands trembling from the effort. Joltik, sensing her distress, skittered around her feet, using his small body to nudge away smaller chunks of concrete and metal debris. The air still smelled of ozone and burnt plastic.
She turned her attention to Kamala first, whose head was resting against a broken slab. Gently, May checked for any obvious injuries—no broken bones, no serious bleeding, just a lot of scrapes and a dazed expression. Doreen was already groaning, trying to sit up, which May took as a good sign. They were both okay, just shaken.
But what had caused all this? Her eyes fell on the small, charred crater in the center of the chamber. The red and white orb was gone, leaving only a blackened scar. Her mind clicked into gear—understand the threat first.
Without a second thought, her fingers, smudged with soot and dust, reached for the familiar red casing in her belt. The Pokédex felt solid and cool in her palm. She aimed it at the blast site, her thumb pressing the activation button. A soft chime sounded, and a thin blue light scanned the scorched area. She needed to know what that thing was, and what they were up against.
May's Pokédex beeped, its blue sensor light flashing across the smoking, spherical Pokémon as it wobbled in the center of the room. A thin beam of light scanned it, and the screen lit up.
Species: Voltorb
Type: Electric
Height: 0.5 m
Weight: 10.4 kg
Ability: Soundproof
"Voltorb, the Ball Pokémon. It is extremely sensitive to shocks and movement. Even the smallest bump can cause it to discharge or explode without warning."
Kamala's eyes went wide, her mind connecting the description to the recent blast.
"So that's what tried to blow us up? It looks just like a Poké Ball!"
Doreen nodded, her tail flicking with excitement. "A walking, rolling security system! That's nuts!"
A new sound cut through the settling dust. It was a heavy, rhythmic crunch of boots on broken concrete, accompanied by gruff, unfamiliar voices that carried no note of concern.
May's head snapped up. Her Spider-Sense flared again, but this time it wasn't a scream. It was a sharp, cold prickle of apprehension crawling up her spine.
Through a newly formed breach in the plant's outer wall, figures appeared. They wore dark, tactical gear and moved with a purpose that had nothing to do with rescue. Their eyes scanned the devastation, landing on scattered machinery and the dazed Pokémon with a predatory interest.
A fierce, protective wave surged through May as she looked at Kamala and Doreen, still struggling to their feet. Her friends were sitting ducks.
The HYDRA agents spread out, their movements systematic and efficient. They seemed to ignore the girls for the moment, their focus on the technology and any Pokémon caught in the blast.
May watched them, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her gaze tracked one agent who moved with particular purpose towards a pile of rubble near a shattered console.
And then she saw it. Kamala's Eevee was there, stirring faintly. The little brown Pokémon tried to push itself free from a tangle of wires, its movements wobbly and uncoordinated from the blast.
The agent saw it too. He produced a compact device from his belt—a glowing, net-like containment field crackled to life in his hands. Without hesitation, he began to advance on the small, defenseless Pokémon.
All the pain was still there. Every breath felt sharp in her chest, and the dull warning of her Spider-Sense was a constant buzz in her skull, a signal she'd learned to interpret as 'danger, danger, danger.'
But that buzzing turned into a single, clear alarm when she saw Kamala's Eevee. The little brown Pokémon was trembling, its fluffy tail tucked down in fear, directly in the path of the advancing HYDRA agent.
Kamala and Doreen were still dazed, trying to push themselves up from the floor. There were armed agents all around them.
The odds were absolutely terrible.
Her mind ran the numbers in a fraction of a second: injured, outnumbered, and outgunned. It was a losing fight before it even started. But the math didn't matter anymore. A thought, simple and pure, burned through all the logic.
She couldn't let anything happen to that Eevee.
With a gasp that was more pain than air, May pushed herself up off the debris-strewn floor. Her muscles protested, screaming at her to stop. She ignored them. One step, then another, each one a deliberate act of defiance against the agony.
She moved quickly, planting her sneakers firmly between the agent's menacing form and the tiny, helpless Pokémon.
Her shoulders squared, and she lifted her chin, meeting the agent's cold stare with a fierce, protective glare of her own. The world narrowed to just this one place, this one moment, this one simple, courageous action.
The young hero stood between her stunned friends and the two remaining HYDRA agents. The man she'd hit was slumped against a wall, clearly out of the fight. Her small frame didn't matter; the tension in her shoulders was all coiled strength.
"I won't let you hurt my friends."
Her voice was clear and firm, with a surprising weight for someone her age. It cut through the ringing silence left by the Voltorb's explosion.
Beside her, Joltik chirped, a sharp, electric sound. The tiny Pokémon's blue eyes were fixed on the agents, and faint sparks danced across its fuzzy fur. It didn't look like much, but its stance was one of pure, defiant loyalty.
The two HYDRA agents exchanged a glance, their earlier confidence gone. They were looking at a child who had just floored a grown man with one punch, and a crackling yellow spider that was ready for a fight.
***
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Advance chapters in P@T0n Najicablitz.