The earth still shuddered beneath Cyrus's boots. The echo of the titans' battle — Tyrantrum's deafening roars and Mega Steelix's grinding metallic bellows — had faded, but their clash had left the island broken. The ground was a patchwork of fractures and uneven ridges, each one breathing steam or leaking the mist that seemed to define Frostveil Isle's uneasy balance between fire and ice.
Cyrus adjusted his grip around Tyrunt. The little dinosaur was heavier than he looked, his scales cool to the touch, breath shallow but steady. The blue hide glinted faintly in the fractured sunlight, white accents tracing his edges like cracks in polished stone. "Easy," Cyrus murmured, keeping his voice low. "You're alright now."
Ditto clung to his torso in vest form, faintly gelatinous, shifting now and then to adjust to Cyrus's movements. It occasionally hummed — the Ditto equivalent of concentration. Meltan and Charcadet had both been recalled for safety, their Pokéballs clipped tightly to his belt. Gengar had merged into his shadow again, his faint, echoing chuckle the only sign that he was still with them.
Every few steps, a stone slid loose beneath Cyrus's boots. The terrain wasn't stable; slabs of rock still collapsed where the monsters had torn through the canyon walls. "You'd think an island this ancient would've had time to settle," he muttered, "but no, apparently the place has anger management issues."
Tyrunt grumbled softly, curling his claws into Cyrus's vest. Despite the wounds along his side, he shifted his weight, eyes flicking toward the horizon where the Tyrantrum had vanished. Cyrus could see the conflict in the young Pokémon's gaze — instinct pulling one way, fear pulling another.
"I know," Cyrus said, voice quiet. "I know you wanted to help...but you wouldn't have survived if you did."
He didn't expect a response, but Tyrunt huffed, a small, almost defiant sound. Proud little thing.
They kept moving through the forest edge, where charred trunks leaned drunkenly over smoldering patches of moss. The temperature changed rapidly here — humid one step, icy mist the next. A place permanently confused about its climate. Cyrus's breath came heavier the deeper he went, the terrain forcing him to climb, duck, and slide around fallen debris.
Then came the sound — faint at first, like static. The hiss of movement layered with clicking. Cyrus froze, tilting his head. The shadows shifted, and a flicker of green glinted through the haze. Scyther. Two of them. Maybe three. Their eyes shone like shards of polished glass.
He crouched low, keeping Tyrunt close. Ditto's form tightened around his chest. One of the Scyther tilted its head, the air hissing around its blades as it moved. It wasn't attacking yet just watching.
Cyrus's heart rate spiked. He could handle one or two, maybe, if Gengar acted fast. But there was no guarantee it was only two. The forest had a way of hiding company.
A metallic clatter rang from behind him, a smaller Anorith had crawled out from beneath a fallen log, its scythe-like forelegs tapping the dirt like claws on glass. More emerged crawling up the rock wall, clicking in chorus, a prehistoric drumbeat.
Cyrus exhaled through his teeth. "Alright. Subtlety's off the table."
He tapped the Pokéball on his belt. "Charcadet, let's go!"
The small flame warrior burst out, eyes flaring crimson as the flame on his head roared to life. The nearest Anorith shrieked, skittering backward as Charcadet threw a burst of flame that singed the bark off a nearby tree.
"Careful," Cyrus snapped. "Don't torch the forest!"
Charcadet growled, clearly not promising anything. The Scyther leapt at that moment, wings slicing the air in a blur of motion. Gengar erupted from Cyrus's shadow like smoke, intercepting one mid-leap with a blast of dark energy. The Scyther hit the ground hard, carving a trench as it scrambled to regain its footing.
"Shadow Ball, then pulse!" Cyrus shouted.
Gengar grinned wide and obeyed — his hands swirling with inky energy that slammed into the second Scyther before it could strike. Dark Pulse followed, a ripple of distortion that sent the Anorith scattering.
Charcadet jumped forward, using Ember bursts to drive the stragglers back. The forest glowed with brief bursts of orange firelight before fading into the mist again.
Cyrus moved quickly, crouching to shield Tyrunt as debris fell from the canopy. The little dinosaur squirmed in his arms, growling, trying to break free. "No," Cyrus hissed. "Not until—"
Tyrunt's tail lashed once. His eyes flashed white-blue, and a pulse of raw force blasted outward. The wave wasn't large, but it hit an oncoming Anorith square in the chest, knocking it flat. The air shimmered with residual draconic energy.
Cyrus blinked. "Well, that's new."
The forest grew quiet again. The remaining bug-types retreated, their clicking fading into the mist. Gengar hovered close, grin fading slightly, watching the treeline until even the faintest motion was gone. Charcadet's flames flickered lower, exhaustion starting to set in.
Cyrus lowered himself slowly to the ground, letting Tyrunt stand on his own. The little dinosaur wobbled for a moment before steadying himself, chest puffed out in a proud — if unsteady — stance. His claws curled into the dirt, tail swinging like a metronome of defiance.
"Yeah," Cyrus said, breath still heavy, "you're definitely your parent's kid."
Tyrunt looked up at him, blinked once, then let out a low, indignant rumble. When Cyrus reached for his pack, Tyrunt's nose twitched — and then he lunged forward, face first, into the satchel.
"Hey—!" Cyrus grabbed for it. "That's not for—"
Tyrunt emerged with a bright orange berry in his jaws, eyes gleaming in triumph. He made a low noise — somewhere between a growl and a purr — before plopping down and devouring it with gusto.
Cyrus sighed, leaning back against a fallen log. "You're supposed to be recovering, not raiding my supplies."
Tyrunt ignored him completely, licking berry juice from his claws. Ditto pulsed faintly against Cyrus's chest, as if laughing.
"Yeah, yeah. Team effort, I get it." He shook his head. "Next time, at least ask before looting."
The path back toward the shoreline was longer than he remembered. The forest's density seemed to have changed — roots twisting higher, fog thicker than before. The air itself buzzed faintly with electricity, leftover traces from the Velozolt packs that roamed earlier. Gengar moved ahead this time, occasionally whispering through the trees like a living shadow.
Cyrus kept Tyrunt close again, despite the Pokémon's protests. The ground was treacherous, and the cliffs beyond the forest dropped directly into the surf. Every so often, the sound of cracking rock made him flinch, reminding him of how alive and unstable the island still was.
By the time he reached the ridge overlooking the beach, the light was beginning to fade. The sun burned low behind sheets of mist, tinting the ocean gold and violet. The air smelled faintly metallic ozone and salt.
The ship was still there, anchored in the distance, its lights a faint glimmer. Relief washed through him, quickly replaced by exhaustion. "We made it," he said softly. "Barely."
He crouched, setting Tyrunt down beside him. The little dinosaur swayed on his feet, head tilted curiously toward the ship. Then he looked back at Cyrus, let out a low growl, and nosed at his coat pocket.
Cyrus blinked. "What now?"
Another growl...more insistent this time. Then a small huff. Tyrunt pointed...actually pointed, at the Pokéball on Cyrus's belt.
"You want in?" Cyrus asked, disbelief bleeding through his exhaustion. "After all that posturing?"
Tyrunt blinked, then gave a sharp, affirmative grunt.
Cyrus smirked faintly. "Alright then. Don't go saying I forced you."
He pressed the Pokéball gently against Tyrunt's chest. The light engulfed the little dinosaur, drawing him in with a soft click. The ball shook once, twice… then stilled. The indicator blinked solid red.
Cyrus sat there for a long moment, the surf crashing below. Ditto uncurled from his vest form, settling beside him like a blob of pale blue jelly. Gengar half-faded into the darkness, his grin faint and approving.
"Welcome to the team, little one," Cyrus said quietly. "Guess you made the choice for both of us."
He leaned back, staring up at the fractured sky. The stars were starting to pierce through the haze faint, but steady. The island around him creaked and sighed, alive in every sense of the word. Dangerous. Beautiful. Completely untamed.
Cyrus closed his eyes. "Tomorrow," he whispered, "we report in. Tonight… we survive."
Gengar drifted forward, shadow stretching over Cyrus and Ditto as the wind picked up. The ocean glimmered with the reflection of distant lightning, silent but bright — the promise of another storm waiting just beyond the horizon.