Orion stands at the base of Aurawood Mountain, the morning mist curling around his boots. The Poké Ball cane rests in his right hand, and a burlap sack of Poké Blocks hangs from his shoulder. Pikachu sits alert on his left shoulder, ears twitching at every forest sound. Behind him, Zygarde 10% Forme pads silently through the underbrush, its green-and-black body low to the ground. Above, Celebi flits between sunbeams, its translucent wings catching the light like stained glass.
Latias had stayed behind at Pokémon Home. The store was busier than ever since the world changed, and someone needed to manage the flood of new customers. She had kissed Orion's forehead before he left and told him to be careful. He had promised.
Now he is here, at the foot of the mountain, with a mission that has nothing to do with sales or lotteries or credit cards.
He needs wild Pokémon to come to the festival.
The Sanctuary's Pokémon belong to the system. Orion can't just pull them out.
Orion intends to make saying yes as appealing as possible.
"Zygarde," he says quietly. "Can you sense how many are in this area?"
Zygarde's hexagonal markings pulse. The telepathic voice enters Orion's mind, calm and measured.
Many. The mountain is alive with them. They are wary. They do not trust humans yet.
"They've had reasons not to."
Yes. But you are not most humans.
Orion adjusts the sack on his shoulder and starts walking. The trail winds upward through dense forest, the air thick with the smell of pine and damp earth. Celebi lands on a low branch ahead, tilting its head at something in the undergrowth.
A pair of Bidoof emerge from the brush, their flat teeth gnawing on a stick. They freeze when they see Orion. Pikachu raises a paw in greeting.
"PIKA PI!"
The Bidoof exchange a glance. One of them chirps cautiously.
"BIDOOF. BIDO BIDO."
Orion kneels slowly, pulling a Poké Block from the sack. He sets it on the ground between them. The scent drifts upward — sweet, berry-rich, formulated for Normal-types.
"We're not here to catch you," Orion says. "I want to talk."
The bolder Bidoof sniffs the air. It takes one step forward, then another. Its teeth close around the Poké Block, and it retreats to chew. The second Bidoof watches Orion with dark, curious eyes.
Celebi flutters down and hovers near the cautious one. A soft psychic warmth radiates from the Time Travel Pokémon. The Bidoof's ears relax.
"CELEBI CELE," it hums.
The Bidoof tilts its head, then makes a soft sound.
"BIDOOF."
Orion watches the exchange. He doesn't understand the words, but he understands the tone. Curiosity. Uncertainty. The beginning of trust.
He spends twenty minutes with the Bidoof. He explains the festival — not in words they would know, but in gestures, in the way he opens his hands to show space, in the way he points to Pikachu and Celebi and then to them. A celebration. A place where humans and Pokémon come together. Food. Safety. No cages.
The Bidoof don't commit. But when Orion stands to leave, the bolder one chirps twice — a sound that feels like a maybe.
"That's enough for now," Orion tells Zygarde as they move deeper into the forest.
You are patient.
"I have to be. You can't rush trust."
The trail opens into a sunlit clearing where a small herd of Deerling graze. Their spring-colored coats shimmer in the dappled light. Orion approaches slowly, and the herd's leader — a female with a flower-like bloom on her head — lifts her gaze.
"DEERLING," she says, her voice melodic and guarded.
Orion sets down three Poké Blocks in a line. He steps back. Pikachu hops off his shoulder and sits beside the offerings, looking up at the Deerling with wide, innocent eyes.
"PIKA. PIKA PI."
The herd leader sniffs the air. She takes one step forward, then stops. Her herd watches her, waiting for her signal.
Celebi drifts closer, and a vision blooms in the air — a shimmering image of the festival grounds. Colorful tents. Open spaces. Pokémon and humans side by side. The Deerling's eyes widen.
"DEERLING DEER," she murmurs.
The vision fades. The herd leader looks at Orion for a long moment. Then she lowers her head and takes a single bite from the nearest Poké Block. She doesn't take the rest. She turns and walks back to her herd, and they move on, deeper into the clearing.
But she looked back twice.
Orion counts it as progress.
Higher up the mountain, the terrain grows rocky. Zygarde leads him to a stream where a group of Poliwag splash in the shallows. Orion sits on a boulder and watches them for a long time before speaking.
"I'm hosting a festival," he says, knowing Zygarde will translate the intent if not the words. "A festival. People gathering, plenty of food, dancing to music. Pokémon and humans learning about each other." He pauses, then looks directly at the nearest Poliwag. "I want you there."
The Poliwag stop splashing. One of them, larger than the rest, turns its round body toward Orion.
"POLI. POLI POLI."
Zygarde's telepathic voice carries the meaning.
They ask why they should trust a human gathering. Humans have hurt them before.
Orion nods. "You're right to be careful. I can't promise every human there will be kind. But I can promise that Pokémon Home will be there. That trainers who understand you will be there. That no one will be forced into anything."
He pulls out a handful of Poké Blocks and sets them along the stream's edge. Then he stands and walks away without looking back.
Behind him, he hears the soft sound of Poliwag approaching the food.
Pikachu glances up at him. "PIKA?"
"They'll decide on their own. That's the whole point."
The afternoon wears on. Orion speaks to a flock of Starly perched in a dead tree, offering Poké Blocks and gesturing toward the sky when he talks about the festival. He sits with a solitary Shinx near a boulder, letting the electric cat sniff his hand before offering a spicy red block. He watches a group of Wurmple inch along a branch and leaves a trail of green Poké Blocks for them to find.
Some Pokémon flee. Some ignore him. Some eat his offerings and leave without a sound.
But some listen.
A Staraptor lands on a ridge above him, its massive wings casting a shadow. It stares down with sharp, intelligent eyes.
"STARAPTOR. STARAPTOR STAR."
Orion looks up at it. "I know you don't need me. You're strong enough on your own. But the festival isn't about need. It's about choice. About showing humans what you are."
The Staraptor holds his gaze for a long beat. Then it screeches once — a sound that echoes across the mountain — and takes flight. It circles the clearing three times before disappearing over the treeline.
Zygarde's voice enters his mind.
That was not a no.
"No," Orion agrees. "It wasn't."
As the sun begins its descent, painting the mountain in shades of amber and gold, Orion finds a quiet spot near a cliff edge. He sits with his legs dangling over the precipice, Pikachu curled against his side. Celebi lands on his knee, its wings folding closed. Zygarde lies beside him, watchful as always.
Orion pulls out his tablet and reviews his notes. He has spoken to fourteen species today. Some showed interest. Some didn't. None said yes outright, but none said no either.
He thinks about what Ivy and Harley mentioned — an agitated Pokémon protecting others. A guardian. If he could find that Pokémon, if he could earn its trust, it might convince others to follow.
But that is a task for another day.
For now, he has planted seeds. Seeds of curiosity. Seeds of possibility.
"Zygarde," he says quietly. "Do you think they'll come around?"
Zygarde's markings glow softly in the fading light.
The mountain listens. That is more than I expected.
Orion nods. He picks up Pikachu, tucks him onto his shoulder, and stands. The sack of Poké Blocks is nearly empty. His legs ache. His voice is hoarse from talking.
But something in the air feels different. Lighter. Like the mountain itself is considering his words.
Celebi rises from his knee and hovers ahead, lighting the path back down.
Orion follows, already planning tomorrow's route. There are more clearings to visit. More streams. More Pokémon who need to hear what he has to say.
The festival is coming. And he intends to fill it with voices that have never been heard before.
Not with force. Not with cages.
With patience. With Poké Blocks. With the simple, radical act of asking.
"PIKA PI!" Pikachu chirps, as if reading his thoughts.
Orion smiles. "Yeah. We're just getting started."
***
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Advance chapters in P@T0n Najicablitz.