The roar of the crowd was muffled as the heavy steel doors of the arena entrance slid shut behind him. The sudden silence in the service tunnel was deafening.
Enzo let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Beside him, the newly evolved Krookodile was panting, his red and black scales glistening under the fluorescent service lights. The Pokémon was massive—far larger and more menacing than the Krokorok that had entered the field just minutes ago.
"You did well. Rest now," Enzo murmured, raising the Poké Ball.
With a flash of red light, the giant desert predator vanished, leaving Enzo alone in the cool, concrete hallway. He adjusted his cap, the adrenaline slowly fading into a dull ache in his muscles.
He turned the corner toward the locker rooms, and his steps faltered.
Leaning against the wall in the dim light was Nessa.
She wasn't angry. The fury she had shown during the battle—the frustration of seeing her strategy crumbled by a "mere orphan"—was gone. In its place was something else. She looked like someone who had just woken up from a cold splash of water. Her arms were crossed, but her posture wasn't defensive. It was contemplative.
Enzo didn't stop walking, intending to pass her, but her voice cut through the hum of the ventilation.
"I have to admit..." Nessa said, pushing herself off the wall. She looked down at the floor, then met his eyes. "That Zorua... he is an incredible Pokémon. The way he broke my formation... for me, he was the MVP of that match."
Enzo stopped. He looked at her, his expression unreadable.
"Winning is the only thing that matters, Nessa," Enzo replied, his voice calm, echoing slightly in the corridor. "There are no MVPs in my team. 'MVP' is just a title for the ego. The only thing that counts is giving everything for the team. He did his job so the others could finish theirs."
Nessa blinked, surprised by the cold pragmatism. Then, a small, genuine smile touched her lips. She shook her head, letting out a soft laugh.
"You really are different from the other trainers here," she said. Her expression hardened slightly, turning serious. "But listen to me, Enzo. Be careful with who comes next."
Enzo raised an eyebrow. "Bea?"
Nessa confirmed,
She took a step closer, closing the distance between them. With a natural, fluid motion, she reached out, her hands gently adjusting the collar of his jacket.
"Bea isn't like the others," Nessa said quietly, her eyes focused on smoothing the fabric near his neck. "She doesn't rely on rhythm or flow. She is disciplined, direct, and brutally efficient."
She finished the adjustment and looked up, meeting his eyes with a serious gaze.
"Mind games won't work on someone who trains to ignore pain. Be careful, Enzo—she doesn't care about outsmarting you, she just aims to overpower you."
Enzo absorbed the warning, he knew she was right.
Before the silence could stretch too long, Nessa reached into the pocket of her uniform. She pulled out a sleek, semi-transparent business card with a blue wave design and extended it to him.
"If you ever find yourself in Galar, give me a call," she said, her tone lightening up and returning to a confident, almost flirtatious elegance.
Enzo took the card. It felt expensive.
"Come to Hulbury," she continued, pointing a manicured finger at the card. "I'll give you a personal tour of the city. We have the best seafood in the region." Her eyes flashed with a competitive spark. "And on that day... I want my rematch. No cameras, no tournaments. Just us."
Enzo tucked the card into his pocket, offering her a faint, respectful nod.
"It would be a pleasure," Enzo said.
Nessa smiled one last time, turned on her heel, and walked away into the shadows of the corridor.
Meanwhile, in the arena, the pool disappeared instantly, replaced by the rugged, jagged terrain of a mountain pass.
Brock walked onto the stage. There was no smile. He adjusted his vest, his expression as hard as granite. He knew exactly who he was facing.
"Go! Onix! Aerodactyl!"
The giant rock snake roared, shaking the ground, while the prehistoric fossil Pokémon took to the skies, screeching.
Opposite him, Bea walked out barefoot. She wore her standard karate-gi, the black belt tied tight. Her eyes were empty, focused only on the violence to come. She tossed two balls without breaking her stride.
"Machamp. Hitmontop."
The four-armed superpower flexed, his muscles looking like steel cables. Beside him, the Hitmontop began to spin on its head, creating a low hum.
Daisy grabbed the microphone. "Brock is starting with his heavy hitters! He's likely going to try and tank the initial damage to set up a—"
"Machamp, Cross Chop on Onix," Bea ordered, her voice cutting through the commentary. "Hitmontop, Rapid Spin. Clear the field."
She didn't wait. She didn't buff. She simply attacked.
Machamp launched himself forward, crossing all four arms. He collided with the Onix like a runaway train hitting a wall.
CRACK.
The sound was sickening. It sounded like a building collapsing. Dust exploded outward.
"A direct hit!" Lt. Surge yelled. "That snake is very weak to Fighting! That's a One-Hit KO!"
But as the dust settled, a low rumble shook the arena.
Onix was still standing. His stone body was cracked, fissures running deep along his spine, but he held his ground, glowing with a faint, desperate metallic aura.
Ability: Sturdy. Onix hung on with exactly 1 HP.
Brock's eyes widened. "NOW! Aerodactyl! Fly!"
It was the opening he needed. Machamp was still recovering from the recoil of the impact, his arms locked in the follow-through.
High above, Aerodactyl folded his wings and dove. He became a missile, his beak glowing with white-hot Flying-type energy. The speed was blinding. He was aiming straight for Machamp's exposed neck.
Bea saw it. She calculated the distance. She realized she couldn't recall Machamp in time.
She didn't blink.
"Hitmontop. Intercept."
It was a cold, heartless command.
Hitmontop didn't use Protect. He didn't try to dodge. He launched himself into the air, throwing his body directly into the path of the diving fossil.
BAM!
The impact was horrific. Aerodactyl's Fly caught Hitmontop mid-air, slamming him into the ground with the force of a meteor. The Fighting-type didn't even have time to cry out.
"Hitmontop is unable to battle!" the referee shouted immediately.
Bea didn't look at her fallen Pokémon. She just narrowed her eyes. Losing a unit was a stain on her perfect record.
"Machamp," she whispered.
Machamp, now free to move thanks to the sacrifice, turned. He didn't use a technique. He reached out with two massive hands and snatched the Aerodactyl—who was still low to the ground after the impact—by the left wing.
Aerodactyl screeched, trying to flap, but Machamp's grip was iron.
With a grunt of exertion, Machamp spun his body and swung the prehistoric bird like a baseball bat.
CRASH.
He smashed the Aerodactyl directly into the head of the surviving Onix.
It was a double collision. The Onix, hanging on by a thread, shattered into a pile of rocks. Aerodactyl crumpled to the floor, dazed.
"Onix is unable to battle!"
Bea recalled the unconscious Hitmontop and immediately threw her next ball. "Sirfetch'd. Cover the flank."
The duck knight appeared, sword and shield raised. But Machamp wasn't done. He loomed over the dazed Aerodactyl, his fists glowing with chaotic energy.
Dynamic Punch.
He hammered the bird into the concrete. K.O.
Brock, sweating now, sent out his last line of defense: Golem and Kabutops.
It didn't matter. Bea had found her rhythm.
"Machamp. Break them."
Machamp, fueled by the adrenaline of the battle, was unstoppable. He ignored Golem's Defense Curl and shattered the boulder Pokémon's shell with a single karate chop. When Kabutops tried to slash him, Machamp caught the blades and delivered a kick to the chest that sent the fossil flying across the arena.
The buzzer sounded.
WINNER: BEA.
The stadium was silent. It hadn't been a battle. It had been a demolition.
The clock on the screen read: 03:42.
Bea recalled her Machamp. She stood alone in the center of the destroyed arena. She turned slowly, her gaze bypassing the crowd, bypassing the commentators, and locking directly onto the players' box.
She stared straight at Enzo.
Up in the box, Enzo leaned back in his chair, his face serious.
He analyzed the data in his mind. Sturdy. That was the only reason she lost a Pokémon. If Onix hadn't survived that first hit, Aerodactyl never would have had the window to dive.
She doesn't hesitate to sacrifice pieces, Enzo thought, watching her walk off the stage. Her physical defense is average, but her offense is suffocating.
His fingers tapped a rhythm on his armrest.
The dust from the previous battle had barely settled when Daisy, the Cerulean Gym Leader, leaned into her microphone at the judges' table. She flipped her hair, looking down at the arena with a mixture of boredom and sisterly judgment.
"And now, for the next match!" Daisy announced, her voice echoing through her own gym. "On the red side, trying to prove she's not just the 'runt' of the family... my little sister, Misty! And on the green side, the Heir of the Devon Corporation, Steven Stone!"
Steven walked onto the podium, he didn't wave to the crowd. He didn't smile for the cameras. His gaze was fixed on his silver wristwatch, and his right foot tapped impatiently against the floor.
Misty, however, was burning with something to prove. She glared up at the commentary box where her sister sat, then turned her fierce gaze to Steven.
"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Misty shouted, her fists clenched. "I'm going to beat you and finally show Daisy that I'm ready to be a Leader! Your steel won't stand a chance against my..."
Steven didn't even look up from his watch.
"Sorry, Misty," he interrupted, his voice projected clearly through the lapel microphone, sharp and dry. "I'm in a hurry."
Misty's face turned bright red. Up in the box, Daisy let out a small, cruel giggle that was picked up by the mic. The crowd murmured awkwardly.
"You... you jerk!" Misty screamed, humiliated.
The timer on the giant screen stopped.
BATTLE TIME: 00:58.
"Gyarados is... unable to battle! The winner is Steven Stone!"
Less than a minute.
Steven recalled Metagross in the same fluid motion. He didn't wait for the victory fanfare. He turned his back and began walking briskly toward the exit tunnel, pulling his phone from his pocket to check a message from his father.
He left Misty standing alone on the field, tears of frustration welling in her eyes, while Daisy's voice rang out over the speakers:
"Well, that was quick! Better luck next time, sis! Now, onto the results..."
Steven burst into the waiting room, finally looking relaxed. He was already reaching for the duffel bag Enzo was guarding.
"Did you see the time?" Steven asked, a manic glint in his eyes. "Under a minute. Now we can go back to the hotel and catalog the…"
"Congratulations on the win," Enzo interrupted, his voice low and serious. He didn't hand over the bag. "But did you really have to humiliate her like that?"
Steven paused, his hand hovering over the zipper. He blinked, confused. "Humiliate? I just... I needed to finish quickly. You know we have work to do."
"Steven, this is her hometown," Enzo said, nodding toward the door. "Her sister is the Gym Leader. Her friends are in the stands. You didn't just beat her; you dismissed her like she was a nuisance."
The realization hit Steven like a splash of cold water. The adrenaline of his "speedrun" faded, replaced by a look of genuine horror. He hadn't been trying to be cruel; he had just been hyper-focused on his goal.
"I... I didn't think about it that way," Steven stammered. "I was just checking the time. I have to apologize."
The automatic doors slid open. Misty walked in.
She wasn't crying, but her face was bright red, her eyes fixed on the floor. She looked small. The confidence of the "Mermaid of Cerulean" was shattered. She had just been crushed in front of everyone she knew.
Steven took a step forward, opening his mouth to speak, but Enzo grabbed his arm.
"Not now," Enzo whispered. "She's embarrassed. Going over there now will only make it worse."
Steven watched her disappear into the women's locker room, looking guilty. "I messed up, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did," Enzo agreed. He thought for a second, then looked at the bag of stones. "Look, if we find a Water-type Mega Stone in that stash... or a Key Stone... let's save it. You give it to her later as an apology. Tell her you respect her power and she deserves to wield it."
Steven looked at Enzo, then at the locker room door. He nodded slowly.
"You're right," Steven said, his voice quiet. "That's the least I can do..."
Before they could say more, the speakers in the room crackled to life.
"Attention all finalists! Look at the screens!"
Lt. Surge's booming voice echoed through the stadium and the waiting room.
On the giant monitor, Lt. Surge, Daisy, and Professor Birch were standing behind the analysis desk. Daisy looked composed but pale, clearly still recovering from her sister's defeat.
"The data is in!" Surge yelled, slamming his hand on the desk. "We wanted efficiency, and one of you maniacs gave us a masterclass!"
The screen flickered, displaying the holographic scoreboard with the final statistics:
ENZO (Kanto):
Result: VICTORY
Casualties: 2 (Zorua, Houndoom)
Time: 12:45
BEA (Galar):
Result: VICTORY
Casualties: 1 (Hitmontop)
Time: 03:42
STEVEN STONE (Hoenn):
Result: VICTORY
Casualties: 0
Time: 00:58
Professor Birch adjusted his glasses. "The numbers are undeniable. While Enzo showed tactical adaptation and Bea demonstrated overwhelming force, Steven Stone achieved perfection."
Lt. Surge pointed a finger at the camera.
"The Golden Ticket to the Grand Final goes to the man with the iron will: STEVEN STONE!"
"That leaves one spot open!" Surge continued, his grin turning predatory on the broadcast. "Tomorrow, the remaining two winners will face off in a Sudden Death Semi-Final to decide who faces Steven on Sunday!"
The screen rotated, locking in the match-up with a heavy, mechanical thud.
[ SEMI-FINAL MATCH ] ENZO vs. BEA
Enzo stared at the name. He knew this was coming, but seeing it on the screen made it real.
The sun was setting over Cerulean City, casting long, orange shadows through the high windows of the stadium's exit corridor.
Enzo walked quickly, his hands buried deep in his pockets. His mind wasn't on the victory he just secured, nor on the applause. He just wanted to get out of there.
But as he turned the corner toward the automatic exit doors, a shadow detached itself from a pillar.
It was Bea.
She wasn't wearing her karate-gi anymore. She was dressed in a sleek, grey athletic tracksuit from Galar. She stood perfectly still in the center of the hallway, blocking his path like a statue carved from marble. The air around her felt heavy, charged with a silent, suffocating pressure.
Enzo stopped. He didn't step back, but he stopped.
Her voice was low and sharp, leading not with a threat, but with a correction.
"Before you start thinking I'm like the others... I didn't send Nessa to spy on you. And I didn't ask her to test you psychologically."
She crossed her arms, her blue eyes filled with a warrior's disdain for dirty tactics.
"I saw what you did to her. You used her mind against her. I don't play mind games."
She took a step forward, invading his personal space. She wasn't posturing; she was stating a fact.
"I come from a lineage of martial artists. I win with my fists."
Enzo remained silent, listening, his face a mask of indifference. She leaned in slightly, her gaze intense, burning with the promise of violence.
"Tomorrow, there are no tactics that will save you, tomorrow is your last day in this tournament."
Enzo listened to the entire speech without flinching. When she finally finished, he let out a small, bored sigh.
A slow, cold smile spread across his face.
"You say tomorrow is my last day?" Enzo threw the words over his shoulder, his tone utterly indifferent. "Funny."
He paused halfway through the sliding doors, glancing back at her with a look of pure, icy arrogance.
"Save the threats for someone who cares. Because tomorrow... I'm sending you back to Galar."
Enzo stepped into the cool night air, waving a hand without looking back. Bea stayed alone, her fists clenched at her sides, trembling with anger at the disrespect, her eyes blazing with a desire to crush him. Outside, under the cold streetlights, Enzo's smile disappeared instantly. He took a few more steps, then stopped, exhaling a long, shaky breath. He knew he had just provoked a monster. And tomorrow, will be the biggest challenge.