The front doors of the King Estate slid open before anyone even touched them, parting with a soft, welcoming chime that sounded somewhere between a doorbell and a melodic data ping.
"Welcome home, Cyrus," the entry scanner chimed politely."Welcome, guests."
Kina stepped through the threshold slowly, like she was afraid the floor might swallow her or start whispering equations at her. Honestly? Either felt plausible.
Because the place wasn't a mansion.
It was… a living museum.
A compact, tidy, very expensive museum where everything hummed, glowed, rotated, or sparkled with some kind of patented technology.
The floors were synthetic marble that warmed under their shoes like it had opinions about their comfort levels. The recessed ceiling lights pulsed softly with energy drawn from a solar Pokémon core — a system Cyrus had explained once, very casually, as if saying "yeah, the house eats sunlight and stores it in a crystalline pseudo-brain, no big deal."
Kina's eyes widened when two Rotom-possessed service drones zipped by overhead, each one carrying parcels wrapped in The King Company's signature silver tape.
She instinctively ducked.
Cyrus grinned. "They're harmless, I swear."
Joseph corrected dryly, "Mostly harmless."
Maren nudged her husband. "Stop scaring the poor girl."
Kina wasn't scared. But she was absolutely overwhelmed in a way she wasn't ready to admit out loud.
She glanced at Cyrus.
He was watching her.
Not in a smug way.
In a please like this part of my world way.
And something warm flickered in her chest.
Before she could say anything, a shimmer warped into existence in the center of the entry hall, and a holographic projection formed: sharp angles, flickering polygons, neon-sheened edges.
"PoryHome Unit K-01," the AI announced cheerfully. "Domestic assistant for the King household. Hello, Cyrus. Identify adjacent party: Kina? Sliggoo? One moment—scanning emotional metrics—"
"NO," Cyrus deadpanned. "Stop scanning emotions."
The AI paused.
"…Processing refusal. Logging: Cyrus is cranky."
Kina snorted.
Joseph sighed, long-suffering. "K-01, what have we said about sarcasm?"
"That is was an invaluable element of social bonding?" the AI replied brightly.
"It was rhetorical," Joseph muttered.
Kina blinked at the floating projection. "So… your house has a personality?"
Maren beamed. "We're very proud of him. He adapts to everyone uniquely."
The AI swiveled toward Kina. "Kina: emotional readings suggest mild stress, 67% awe, 18% disorientation, and exactly 3% desire to pet one of the cleaning drones."
Her face flashed hot. "WHAT— I do not—!"
"You do," the AI confirmed.
Cyrus leaned in, whispering, "Don't try to win against him. You just lose with more embarrassment."
Kina pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Great. Love that."
The AI dimmed slightly. "Would you like a guided tour?"
Kina opened her mouth—
Cyrus gently cut in. "Maybe later, K-01. We need to get Kina settled first."
The AI rotated with satisfaction. "Understood. Redirecting to standard domestic mode."It projected a final sparkle. "Welcome, Kina. Please remember: emotional meltdown charges are only waived for first-time guests."
"It's joking," Cyrus assured before she could panic again.
"Processing: the joke lands at 78% success," the AI added.
Joseph cleared his throat. "Alright, let's get you both to your rooms. Dinner is in an hour."
As they walked deeper into the house, Kina stuck close to Cyrus without even thinking about it. It wasn't fear — just… the instinct to orbit the one familiar thing in a space designed by brilliant, mildly chaotic geniuses.
And Cyrus? He didn't walk ahead.He stayed at her shoulder, matching pace.
Her guest room was all soft silver, ocean-blue accents, and a holographic window display programmed to show whatever landscape the occupant desired.
"That's… Akala Island," Kina whispered. "My home."
Maren relaxed. "Good. We asked K-01 to pull reference images based on your profile."
Kina swallowed, suddenly moved in a way she didn't expect.
"Thank you," she murmured.
As soon as his parents stepped out, Cyrus lingered in the doorway. "If you need anything—"
"Cyrus," Kina interrupted softly. "This is… a lot. But it's amazing. Really."
He rubbed his neck. "I was worried you'd think it was too much."
"It is too much," she admitted with a grin. "But in a cool… Cyrus way."
His ears went red.
"Okay, uh— I'll see you at dinner."
"Yeah," she said, smiling. "See you."
Dinner in the King household wasn't just food.
It was an experience.
The table extended automatically to accommodate two extra seats. The chairs warmed to body temperature. A platoon of Rotom Chef Units whirled around in the kitchen, occasionally shouting "BZZT—THE SOUFFLÉ IS RISING!!" as if announcing a Pokémon battle.
And the food?Insanely good.
Conversation drifted easily:
Maren asking Kina about training methods.Joseph analyzing Kina's tracking reports with genuine interest.Cyrus occasionally choking when Kina called him out for exaggerating a story.
By the time dessert appeared, Kina felt… comfortable.
Warm.
Almost at home.
After dinner, when Cyrus and Kina moved toward the upper hall, footsteps echoed from the side corridor.
A man in his late twenties approached, tall, lean, wearing a light tactical jacket and carrying a holo-slate under one arm. His walk was easy, practiced, confident.
"Cyrus! Hey, kid!"
Cyrus turned to meet the voice. "Kellan!"
Kina perked up. This had to be the guy who escorted Cyrus during the Frostveil expedition.
Kellan reached them, then paused looking at Cyrus's...
"Still alive, I see. Good. Thought you might've tripped into a Titan's mouth since I last saw you."
Cyrus laughed. "I only almost did that once."
"Twice," Kellan corrected.
"Once that counted" Cyrus retorted.
Kellan finally turned to Kina, offering a friendly smile and a calloused hand. "You must be Kina. Kellan Marik. Security consultant, field coordinator… part-time Cyrus wrangler."
"That sounds like a full-time job," Kina joked.
"You have no idea," Kellan said with a sigh.
Cyrus elbowed him. "Why are you here?"
"Your parents pulled me back — new project. Something about predictive anomaly mapping and Bloodmoon cycles."
Kina straightened. "Bloodmoon?"
Kellan nodded. "Yeah. I'll be helping prep some of the equipment you two will take up the mountain."
"Oh," Cyrus said, eyes widening with excitement, "so we'll actually get to use the earlier prototypes?"
Kellan grinned. "Kid, you're about to use tech so new it still smells like 'please don't break this.'"
Kina snorted.
This Kellan guy? She liked him already.
Later, Cyrus showed Kina the estate's training deck, the mini-botanic dome, the observatory, and the library that looked more like a consolidated archive for half the world's Pokémon biology journals.
She kept saying "woah" so many times she stopped trying to fight it.
By the time they said goodnight again, it was late.
Cyrus knocked gently on her doorframe. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's gonna be packed."
She nodded. "I will."
"Good."
He hesitated.
She stared.
He stared.
Awkward sparkly silence.
Then he slowly turn and walked down the hall.
Kina shut the door behind her, smiled to herself, and muttered:
"He's impossible."
The second morning in the estate felt less like stepping into a museum and more like stepping into a city disguised as a house.
At breakfast:
A drone delivered her tea.
The AI critiqued Cyrus's toast-spreading technique.
Joseph argued with a holo-board about economic projections.
Maren conducted a lab meeting through a hovering screen while feeding her Espeon.
Kina sat through it all thinking, So this is what "normal" looks like for him…?
After the meal, Maren showed Kina the research tower attached to the estate, walking her through labs full of experimental scanners, energy reading consoles, and containment units for analyzing Pokémon aura imprints.
Maren was gentle but brilliant — easy to talk to, eager to teach, and clearly fond of Kina already.
By noon, they paused for lunch in the garden terrace. The air smelled of sun and herbs and lightly humid greenhouse mist.
Cyrus plopped down beside her with his tray. "You surviving?"
"Emotionally? Jury's out," Kina said, sipping her drink. "But the food is great, so that helps."
Cyrus laughed. "Yeah, Mom says good research starts with good lunch."
"She's not wrong," Kina admitted, then glanced at him sideways. "So… this is really how you grew up? With floating robots and reactive floors and walls that have opinions?"
He shrugged, looking almost sheepish. "To me it's normal. But seeing you see it makes me realize how… weird it might look."
"Weird," Kina said, poking his arm lightly, "but in a Cyrus way. Meaning? Kinda cool."
He went silent, and for a few seconds he just… looked at her. The warm kind of looking. The kind that made Kina pretend to focus very intensely on her soup.
After lunch, Maren headed back to the labs, Joseph disappeared into a conference room full of holographic charts, and Cyrus offered to give Kina the "actual" tour — the one that wasn't polished or corporate or filtered.
"Alright," he said, brushing hair from his face. "Wanna see where I grew up? Like… the real parts?"
Kina stood. "Lead the way."
They walked through: Cyrus's Childhood Room
A time capsule of messy drawings, old Poké toys, and a tiny Gengar plush that Kina immediately picked up and raised an eyebrow at.
"Don't judge me," Cyrus said."No promises," she replied.
Where tiny Grass-types wandered freely. Meltan tried to eat the sprinkler system.
Where prototypes lay half-finished on steel tables. Kina stopped, staring at one strange spherical device.
"What is that?"
Cyrus grimaced. "Prototype twenty-three. It spins too fast. Dad calls it my 'attempt at disappearing via centripetal force.'"
"Meaning…?"
"Basically...It threw me into a wall."
Kina cackled so loudly a technician poked his head in to see if someone died.
Later, they wandered into the upper training hall. Kellan was there, calibrating something that looked like a cross between a motion sensor, a telescope, and a flamethrower.
"Cyrus! Kina!" he called out. "Come check this out."
Kina approached carefully. "Should I be standing near that?"
"Probably not," Kellan said cheerfully. "But that's what makes it fun."
Cyrus groaned. "Don't encourage her."
Kellan winked. "She looks like someone who enjoys controlled danger."
Kina tilted her head. "You get me."
Cyrus muttered, "I hate this."
The rest of the day blended together:
They reviewed the Bloodmoon research files in the holo-library. Walked the security perimeter trails with Kellan. Watched Sliggoo get chased by a cleaning drone (Sliggoo won).
It was comfortable. Easy. Weirdly domestic for two people about to climb a death mountain.
By late afternoon, the sun was slanting gold through the glass walls of the estate. Kina and Cyrus sat on the rear balcony overlooking acres of preserved forest.
Kina stretched her legs out. "Tomorrow we meet with your parents to go over the Bloodmoon briefing again?"
"Yeah," Cyrus said, sipping his drink. "And Kellan wants to run us through gear training."
She nodded, then frowned thoughtfully.
"…You know," she began, "we should probably do some joint practice before we head out."
"Like… coordinated tracking?" he asked.
"No. I mean battling," she said. "Double battles. Two Pokémon each. See how our teams react to each other. Learn each other's rhythms."
Cyrus blinked. His expression shifted—from curiosity, to intrigue, to slowly dawning excitement.
"That… actually makes a ton of sense."
"Yeah. We can't walk into Bloodmoon territory blind. Especially not with how aggressive those Ursaluna variants get."
Cyrus nodded firmly now, his mind obviously racing. "We could run drills in the morning. Gengar with your Sliggoo. Meltan with your Toucannon. Tyrunt with your Mudsdale—you pick. We test combos. See what flows."
Kina smiled at the shift in him — the sudden focus, the spark.
"Exactly," she said. "We battle for real. Not just practice hits. Controlled matches. Strategy runs. We learn together."
He met her gaze.
And something clicked.
"Yeah," Cyrus said softly. "Let's do it. First thing tomorrow."
The way he said it — steady, sure, warm — settled into her like a promise.
She stood, stretching. "Good. Because I'm not letting you get mauled by a Bloodmoon Ursaluna because we didn't practice."
He laughed under his breath. "You know, sometimes I think you signed on just to bully me."
Kina slung her braid back and smirked. "I'd call it… highly constructive coaching."
They both laughed.
And as they walked back toward the interior hallway, side by side, the estate lights flickered softly to life in the dusk.
Tomorrow would be chaos. Tomorrow would be training. An Tomorrow meant they would finally working together as a real team.
But for now?
They just walked toward the warm light of the King household, comfortable silence settling like a shared blanket.
The chapter closed with an unspoken but unmistakable momentum:
They were ready to fight together and tomorrow, they would prove it.