Cynthia awoke slowly, her head heavy, dull, and throbbing. It hurt, like she had slept too long, but not in a way that had brought any rest.

  “Elekid? Well, Leer, Quick Attack, Thunder Shock, and…”

  The voice trailed off, like it was considering its next words. “Charge, probably. I mean, if he’s as young as you said, he probably hasn’t had time Swift or Shock Wave yet—right? Honestly, though, hard to say. Like, young isn’t exactly the greatest definition of all time. Still, considering you said he isn’t really combat ready, I can’t imagine he knows too many moves.”

  “…You’re right. He knows Charge, but we’re still working on Swift.”

  Something brushed through Cynthia’s hair again, slow and rhythmic.

  It reminded her of some half-forgotten memory, and she let herself drift with the motion for a heartbeat, hovering between sleep and waking, before the other voice spoke up again.

  “Whatever. I guess I just have to accept it—you just know stuff. More than I do anyway… But seriously, have you thought about who you were before you lost your memory? Some kind of professor’s assistant? Kalos nobility?” he paused, then mumbled under his breath, “I swear, if Flint was onto something—”

  As the voice lowered some part of her finally pinned it on somebody familiar.

  Volkner, her waking mind supplied as the thought clicked.

  The other voice, the one coming from just above her, didn’t answer. And so, after a moment, Volkner finally continued.

  “Still… what do you think they’re planning? I half-figured we’d either wake up outside the forest or not at all. Them putting us into cages wasn’t exactly on my list.”

  “Honestly? Not on mine either.” The other voice responded dry as sandpaper. “I didn’t realize Pokémon even put people in cages. I always figured their communities were a little bit less… I don’t know. Not like this?”

  The first voice again—and slightly more awake now, Cynthia instantly recognized it.

  Myst.

  Even though his voice sounded tense and almost frustrated, she still felt a part of herself calm slightly at the sound of him. After all, it meant he was okay, and considering the last…

  Cynthia finally realized how they had gotten here.

  The Elder Trevenant.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she jerked her head sharply off the ground—only to blink as a shadow snapped back out of the way.

  Huh?

  Myst’s voice rang out a split second later.

  “Good morning, Cynthia.”

  Cynthia blinked, glancing behind her—just to see Myst sitting with his legs folded, both knees raised as a makeshift pillow, a thin smile on his face.

  For a second they just stared at each other before Myst cleared his throat and forced his expression into something lighter.

  “But honestly—is this how it’s going to be? I kindly help you out, and you almost take my head off for it? Some people would call that abuse, you know.”

  She stared at him, then lifted a hand to cradle her pounding head.

  Some part of her registered that his humor sounded a little off, almost forced.

  The rest of her?

  Really—now?

  She sighed and, very graciously, decided to ignore his stupid comment and instead asked the more relevant question.

  “What happened?”

  Myst’s smile vanished instantly.

  “Not sure. I got knocked out the same time as you, and when we came to we were all here. Or, well… me, you, and Volkner at least.” His voice tightened faintly. “I think Johanna got away. Flint might’ve been with her, hopefully.”

  Cynthia nodded slowly, then glanced around, feeling the world slowly sharpened as she managed to focus.

  “And this place…”

  She didn’t finish.

  Some part of her had already internalized the fact that they were in a cage from what Myst and Volkner had mentioned, but she hadn’t realized just how literal they were being.

  Dark wooden spires jutted from the ground—long, curved lengths of hardened wood that arched upward like ribs. Each one bent toward a single point above them, forming the frame of an organic dome, shaped almost like a birdcage. Vines wrapped around the spires in tight, spiraling bands, not dense enough to block her view of the area beyond, but woven closely enough that squeezing through would be impossible.

  She had imagined a cave blocked off by some vines, or maybe a pit. Something natural, something improvised, where the Trevenant had dumped them to make sure they couldn’t just escape.

  This wasn’t that.

  This looked purposeful. Designed, even.

  She let her eyes glide over the structure, noting how every joint, every curve, every vine-wrapped beam seemed placed with the express intent of giving a Trevenant as many points of control as possible. But, even as she traced the pattern upward, her gaze still stopped about halfway, caught on a shape standing just beyond the cage.

  “I guess you noticed it?” Myst asked, scooting slightly closer.

  She nodded, locking onto the Trevenant who stood just outside the cage.

  It looked like it was in a resting state, or a hiding one, or whatever, it’s red eye was nowhere to be seen. But still, she wasn’t going to mistake it for something else. Not after what happened previously anyway.

  Probably never again, honestly.

  “I guess that’s our guard,” she said lowly, dropping one hand to her belt to brush over the smooth form of Queenie’s Pokéball.

  “Yeah,” Myst murmured.

  He shifted closer again, close enough that their shoulders pressed together, and then grabbed her hand, squeezing slightly.

  “Though,” he continued in a lower voice, “apparently it hasn’t been here the entire time. Volkner said it switched with another one about half an hour ago—before either of us woke up.”

  Cynthia squeezed his hand back without even thinking about it, nodding slowly.

  Then she blinked.

  Snapping her head toward Volkner, she opened her mouth in a rush.

  “What? It switched with another one? Like a guard rotation?”

  “I don’t want to call it that—don’t think Pokémon really do stuff like that,” Volkner replied dryly. He scratched at the back of his neck, then added, “But… yeah. More or less, that’s what it looked like.”

  She stared at him for a couple of seconds, then furrowed her eyebrows, glancing back at the Trevenant.

  The Grass Kingdom.

  It was weird. Just… weird.

  She wasn’t going to pretend she knew everything about how Pokémon formed communities and behaved—she wasn’t an expert on that, and neither was her grandmother, for that matter—but she had still read a decent amount from people who were. And they all agreed, for the most part, that Pokémon didn’t form proper societies.

  They formed families. Groups. Clans. Communities.

  But not societies.

  On a meta level, scholars seemed to agree that if Pokémon could form true societies, they would’ve easily outcompeted humans long ago. But as for why they didn’t, there wasn’t much of a consensus. Still, the most common argument was simply that Pokémon were too natural for that.

  Societies need rules. Unspoken agreements, invisible lines everyone agreed not to cross for the sake of the whole. People could do that. People could restrain themselves, follow expectations that existed only because everyone collectively pretended they mattered.

  Pokémon, for all their wonder, usually couldn’t.

  If a Pokémon wanted to grow stronger, it would. If a Pokémon wanted to carve out a cave, it would. And if a Pokémon wanted to blow something up, it would.

  Pokémon followed their instincts and desires, without much deception or pretense.

  She paused, glancing down at her belt.

  Really, even Pokémon following trainers and not causing chaos only served as the exception that proved the rule. After all, Pokémon didn’t suddenly decide not to steal ice cream because they cared about the ice cream shop owner—they stopped because they cared about their trainer. They didn’t hold back out of some broad sense of social order, but because of the bond they shared with the one person they trusted.

  And that was what was so very weird about all this.

  She couldn’t be certain, didn’t know if she was just imagining patterns where there were none, but something about how the Grass Kingdom seemed to function just…

  It was too much like a structured society.

  The Nuzleaf had acted like a first-response force, trying to fend them off. The Trevenant were a coordinated guard system, herding them, capturing them, and locking them in a cage that had clearly been made for holding things.

  Hell, they even apparently had guard rotations, and that opened a whole can of worms, implying they also had some kind of organizational structure.

  “You drifted off again,” Myst said softly, brushing her shoulder with his. “Any ideas on what we should do?”

  She paused her thoughts, suddenly realizing that this might not be the time to theorize how a single Pokémon, the so-called Majesty, had somehow managed to upend everything everyone thought they knew about how Pokémon formed communities.

  “Not really,” she mumbled, before shaking her head firmly and looking up at their guard again. “But… we do have some options, right?”

  Myst didn’t answer at first. Instead, he stood—and with their still-clasped hands, he pulled her up with him.

  She nearly lost her train of thought at how effortlessly he lifted her off the ground.

  “I mean, we do,” he continued once she was upright. “They didn’t take our Pokéballs, after all.”

  His expression tightened, like he was bracing for something.

  “But… at the same time, we also have a problem.”

  Cynthia stared at his hand for a couple of seconds, then blinked, finally processing what he had just said.

  What.

  Ignoring the second part for now, she snapped her head to the side, where Volkner had moved over to stand.

  “Wait—they didn’t empty our Pokéballs?” she said, her hand shooting down to Queenie’s Pokéballs again as relief flooded her chest like a warm current, sweeping away the worry she’d been trying not to acknowledge.

  Volkner paused, shot Myst a look, before shaking his head towards her.

  “Apparently not. At least, didn’t do anything with ours. Just left us with our full teams.” He paused, frowning slightly. “Honestly, before you woke up I talked to Myst about it, and my best guess was that they might not actually understand where our Pokémon are. I mean… they didn’t understand our language at all, right? So maybe they don’t get how Pokéballs work either.”

  She waved off the explanation with a small, decisive gesture, even as her shoulders eased.

  “Impossible. Pokémon might be simple, but they aren’t actually stupid. Maybe some of the Trevenant didn’t see where our team went, but we were watched by a dozen as we withdrew them. If they didn’t take them away, then it has to be because they didn’t think we were a threat, not because it couldn’t figure out where our Pokémon went.”

  Myst let out a quiet sigh.

  “Or,” he said, voice dropping, “because they have a hostage. Volkner has his entire team, and you do too—but I don’t.”

  He met her eyes.

  And suddenly she noticed how his hand was almost shaking.

  “Navi is missing.”

  She stared at him.

  His tried for a smile. It held for all of a single heartbeat, thin and brittle, before he looked away.

  “I mean, I’m not that worried yet. We’re fine, so I can’t think of a reason she wouldn’t be fine too…”

  A beat.

  “…unless they took her because she’s the only Psychic-type and as Ghost-types.”

  He winced.

  “Or because she’s Shiny.”

  It became a grimace.

  “Or because they realized she was the only way we could reliably escape. Or because—”

  He inhaled, way too deeply, like he was about to deliver a thirty-point lecture titled: “The worse and worse reasons my adorable Pokémon might be missing.”

  Cynthia didn’t let him start.

  She hugged him tightly.

  Myst froze mid-breath, arms suspended in the air like he’d forgotten how elbows worked.

  Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, burying his face against her shoulder and holding on with far more strength than she expected. His breathing evened out as he tightened his grip, chest solid and warm against hers.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled into her hair.

  She didn’t answer, didn’t feel the need to.

  For a few long seconds, they just stood there. His heartbeat matching hers, the world outside the cage fading into background noise. She felt herself relaxing. Let herself lean into the warmth of him. Let herself notice how close he was. How he smelled. How hard his chest—

  Volkner coughed.

  Loudly.

  Cynthia jerked back so fast Myst nearly stumbled forward with her. She spun around at lightning speed, heat crawling up her neck.

  Volkner stood there, both hands raised in a calm, exceedingly unhelpful gesture of surrender. His expression was perfectly neutral.

  Painfully, deliberately neutral.

  “Okay… considering your reaction, I’m guessing you didn’t want to announce your relationship?” he asked, sounding about as surprised as a dead fish.

  Cynthia opened her mouth, then shut it again, feeling her cheeks flare.

  “Well,” Volkner said, “I can safely tell you this has, in fact, not exposed anything.”

  His gaze slid over both of them before he added, utterly unfazed,

  “Mostly because I figured it out the second I met you two. You aren’t exactly subtle… Of course, don’t worry too much—Flint hasn’t noticed yet.” He paused. “Though that’s only because he’s about as observant as a brick when it comes to this stuff.”

  He held up a finger.

  “But seriously—no worries. I don’t mind. At all. You guys suit each other.”

  The finger lowered.

  “It’s just, you know what I do mind?” he continued, tone flattening, “That we are still stuck. Right here. In a cage. Guarded by a Trevenant. With a missing Pokémon. Without having even begun to discuss a plan.”

  He stressed the last part, almost glaring at them.

  For a second nobody said anything.

  But before the silence could turn awkward, Myst stepped forward, shaking his head.

  “Sorry about that. Really. But… yeah, I probably needed it.”

  He exhaled, then shot Cynthia a small, sheepish glance before refocusing.

  “Still,” he continued, “for a plan—how about we start by having Riolu see if he can sense any trace of Navi’s Aura? He’s super familiar with it, right? So if she’s been anywhere close to here, he should be able to track it.”

  He paused, eyes flicking back toward the Trevenant standing stiffly outside the broken cage.

  “And, well, while he’s at it,” he added, some heat creeping back into his voice, “he could also check how many Trevenant are nearby.”

  …

  A lot less than expected was the result Riolu reported.

  Like three.

  Which should have been a good thing. In fact, it made planning almost insultingly simple—five minutes, tops, and they had something that technically counted as a plan.

  Still, Cynthia wasn’t the type to lie to herself.

  It was… not a very good plan.

  She stared through the gaps in the cage, trying to get a clearer look at the area around them. The vines warped her vision just enough that everything looked slightly bent, forcing her to re-focus every couple of seconds.

  “You guys sure about this?” she murmured, not looking away.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “For the record, this plan sucks. I hate it. And I don’t think it’s ever going to work,” Volkner said flatly. Then he sighed. “But I do recognize it’s the only plan that actually does anything. Because, as you guys argued rather succinctly, it’s either that, or just wait. And considering they haven’t given us either food or water even after we woke up, that isn’t a fantastic plan either.”

  She nodded slowly, even as her attention slid back to Myst.

  He was quiet.

  Too quiet.

  Trying to be subtle, she shifted her eyes to the side—and caught the sharp line of his jaw, set hard as he more or less glared at the Trevenant guarding them.

  “Riolu,” he asked lowly, “you are sure you caught her signature right? That she is where you think she is?”

  Riolu gave a single yip of agreement, eyes still glowing faintly blue as he stared into the forest.

  His face hardened.

  “Fuck.”

  Slowly, Cynthia let her hand slide into Myst’s.

  He looked at her sharply, startled, but the frustration in his eyes eased, just slightly, when they met hers.

  “She’s fine,” she said quietly. “Riolu said her the trace of her signature is strong. That she’s basically broadcasting it. And there are only three Trevenant, remember? We can handle it.”

  Her words didn’t really help. She could tell the moment they left her mouth.

  Myst gave a thin, bitter smile and explained, without actually saying anything, exactly why “only three” was enough to make their plan the kind Volkner had very politely described as idiotic.

  “Right. Fine. That’s what we’re calling her being right next to the Elder now?”

  Cynthia froze, just for a moment, his words landing like a small, sharp pinch. But, before she could even begin to figure out how to respond, he looked away.

  “Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” he mumbled.

  She just shook her head.

  “It’s fine.”

  Myst looked back, pursed his lips, and then walked over and grabbed her backpack before handing it to her.

  “Probably for the best if we wear them now, huh?” he asked, a crooked smile on his lips.

  She stared at him for a couple of seconds, almost able to feel the worry sitting under that smile, then glanced at Volkner picking up his own pack and made an executive decision. A blush crept up her face as she rose onto her tiptoes, pressed a quick kiss to Myst’s cheek, and then took the backpack from his hands.

  “It’ll be fine, okay?” she said, slipping it onto her back before adding, “And thanks.”

  He stared at her for a couple of seconds. Then his smile softened.

  She tried to ignore her blush as she nudged him lightly toward his own backpack. “Well, move it,” she hissed.

  He gave her a smile before walking over to his pack. As he bent to lift it, he pulled—then hesitated for a split second. His brows pinched together in brief confusion as he stared at the backpack, before he glanced her way and immediately smoothed out his expression. Without another word, he lifted it off the ground in one steady motion, shooting her a thumbs up.

  Cynthia just turned to Volkner.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  Volkner adjusted his own backpack and then nodded towards his two Pokémon.

  “As ready as I can be. And, I mean, this isn’t going to be the hard part anyway.”

  Cynthia nodded back, then glanced to Queenie—who looked desperate for the chance to attack, claws already twitching with impatience.

  “Well,” she said, “there’s nothing to wait for. Queenie—let’s go.”

  Queenie didn’t hesitate for even a second. The moment the words left Cynthia’s mouth, she moved.

  Dark blue energy flared across her claws as she struck with the force of a charging Tauros.

  The cage lasted a split second.

  Like water parting over a blade, her claws sliced through the structure effortlessly. The vines didn’t tear, they fell apart, severed so quickly the pieces almost hung in the air before dropping.

  The Trevenant guarding them reacted immediately, branches snapping open like claws, red eye blazing to life—

  Too late.

  Luxio’s fur burst into crackling light as he leapt forward, electricity snarling around him like a second pelt. Pikachu darted under him, cheeks flashing as he launched a burst of lightning straight up the Trevenant’s trunk.

  A flash of yellow tore through the clearing as the Trevenant staggered back, thrown off balance by two Sparks hitting at once.

  Desperately, it lifted a hand—like it meant to strike back—overpowering green energy surging to life, bright enough to light the grooves in its bark.

  Rei was already there.

  One ear cocked back, red energy roaring around her fist, she drove a blow straight into the Trevenant’s face.

  Fire Punch.

  The green aura shattered instantly, scattering like burning leaves as the super-effective hit landed. Its eyes flickered, its posture sagging—

  —but somehow, it managed to refocus, branches twitching as if to rise again.

  It never got the chance.

  Roselia stepped forward, flowers lifting, and every single leaf in the vicinity seemed to vanish.

  Then the world lit up.

  A barrage of green laser-like streaks erupted from every direction at once. Leaves moving so fast she couldn’t see any of them. They slammed into the Trevenant in a relentless torrent, each one striking with pinpoint, merciless precision. The impact was so overwhelming that the Trevenant’s entire form was swallowed by the storm, its silhouette flickering in and out of existence behind the blinding cascade.

  Magical Leaf.

  For five whole seconds, it was simply gone, consumed by the sheer force of the attack.

  Then?

  Cynthia started to move. A beat later both Myst and Riolu followed—

  —and the Trevenant collapsed to the ground, red eye already faded.

  …

  The second Trevenant had definitely been more of a fight than the first. The moment it sensed them, it began attacking through the forest itself—branches shifting, roots pushing up through the soil, the ground flexing under their feet. For a minute or two, Cynthia felt a faint echo of earlier today, or maybe yesterday, when they’d been running from the horde.

  The feeling passed almost immediately.

  A single Trevenant alone couldn’t overwhelm them just by twisting the forest. And, more importantly, this time they weren’t fleeing. They were the ones chasing it down. With Riolu locked onto its aura signature, hiding was pointless; every attack only made its location clearer.

  Eventually it stopped retreating altogether, rooted in place as if it couldn’t abandon whatever it was guarding. Like it would have better chances if it could use moves directly.

  It did not.

  And so, minutes later, as its red eye finally dimmed, Cynthia wanted to pretend the sight ahead didn’t surprise her.

  But, well—that would have been a lie.

  She didn’t mean to slow down, but her steps eased anyway as the sight ahead pulled her attention forward.

  The first thing she noticed was two broad trunks leaning toward one another overhead, their bark split along the sides, wood warped in ways that didn’t look natural. Clear signs that the Trevenant had bent and twisted them into shape. That they had tried to form a gate of some sort.

  It was fascinating.

  Curious.

  And still not the thing that made her slow.

  “Holy shit,” Myst muttered beside her as he drifted forward, his pace dropping to match hers without him meaning to.

  Holy shit indeed.

  Her breath caught as her eyes followed the space beyond the warped trunks—a long, perfectly flat strip of earth, wide enough to rival the walking street in Jubilife. Easily the longest uninterrupted stretch of open ground they’d seen in this suffocating forest. It didn’t fit even a little, more like a scar in the forest than something that seemed natural.

  And, yet, what lined it fit the surroundings even less.

  On either side stood… structures. Or what she assumed were meant to be structures. Trees twisted together and mashed into rounded half spheres, looking almost like upside down bowls. Some part of her wanted to call them houses, but the absence of anything resembling a door, or any way inside at all, killed the word before it reached her tongue.

  They didn’t look built. They looked attempted.

  Like someone had described “houses” to the Trevenant, and the Trevenant had gotten the general shape but absolutely none of the meaning.

  Still…

  There was something about them that tugged at the back of her mind. A familiarity she didn’t like. For a moment, she stared at the closest one.

  Its front bulged into a rounded dome, much like the top of a pear, with a piece of wood at the peak shaped almost like a tiny sprout—two leaves jutting from either side. Just beneath it, the bark had been pulled inward into two shallow ovals, fine cracks running along their edges. It was obvious it wasn’t natural, the strain clear, as if the wood hadn’t entirely agreed to be molded that way.

  Honestly, in a way, it almost reminded her of a face, two eyes set low, staring back at her.

  Her gaze flicked to the other structures, and she blinked. It wasn’t just that one—every single one of them had it. The shapes varied, some more rounded, others oddly spiky, but each had those same warped markings carved into the middle of the structure… shallow, eye-like, torn straight into the wood.

  It made the whole place look like a dozen oversized Grass-type heads lined the road, all silently staring down at them.

  “She’s in there, right?” Volkner asked tensely, just as they crossed the halfway mark of the path.

  Cynthia snapped her eyes away from the buildings, only to see Volkner pointing toward a tree near the end of the path. For a moment she just stared at the tree he was pointing toward, not understanding why he’d think Navi was there.

  Then they drew a few steps closer, and the angle shifted—

  —and she saw the bottom of the trunk peeking out from behind one of the warped structures.

  Without the lower part visible, the tree had looked almost completely normal. Maybe a little big, sure, but compared to some of the giants this forest had produced, it hadn’t stood out.

  Now, though?

  She saw the opening.

  A hollow had been carved into the base of the tree. Of course, unlike the natural hollows you sometimes saw in old trunks, this one was unmistakably artificial. Even from here she could see how the bark twisted awkwardly around the edges, as if it had been forced open rather than grown that way.

  “Riolu?” She asked, glancing down at her side.

  The Fighting-type, walking just ahead alongside Rei, didn’t stop, didn’t even hesitate, he simply nodded.

  “Riolu. Rio Riolu.” He said.

  He’s right. She is inside.

  Cynthia nodded slowly.

  Right, then we needed to—

  Rei clearly wasn’t in a mood for waiting; she surged forward, forcing Myst to almost run to keep up. Cynthia cut off her thoughts, exchanged a quick look with Volkner, and without a word the two of them broke into a run after the others, their Pokémon bringing up the rear.

  Still, even as she ran, Cynthia calculated.

  The Elder Trevenant had, on its own, managed to push Johanna back far enough that she hadn’t even been able to help everyone escape. And that had been a two against one. That placed it—at the absolute minimum—somewhere around the level of a Gym Leader’s main team Pokémon.

  If they wanted to beat it, they’d need coordination. Perfect coordination. Every Pokémon working as a single unit. And a miracle.

  A pipedream.

  Even ignoring the needed miracle, she didn’t even have that kind of coordination with just Myst alone; adding Volkner to the mix made it flat out impossible.

  A faint sound drifted through the air as she got close enough to almost see into the hollow—something soft and wavering at the edge of hearing. It was followed by a sweet scent, just distinct enough that she could actually smell it. She pushed both aside, forcing her focus back where it needed to be.

  This couldn’t become a battle they were trying to win.

  This had to be a rescue.

  There was no other way to frame it—no matter how badly a part of her wanted to fight, wanted to be straightforward and just overwhelm it, she had to be realistic. If this was going to work, they’d need to get in, draw the Elder Trevenant’s attention just long enough for Volkner to land a paralysis, and then get out as quickly as humanly possible. Once they created enough distance, Navi could teleport them away.

  Myst and Rei reached the hollow first, and Cynthia almost shouted for him to wait up—but before she could, both of them stopped dead.

  She blinked, instincts flaring, and closed the distance in a heartbeat, sliding into position beside Myst. The sweet smell hit her like a sugar rush, thick and nauseating, but she couldn’t spare it a thought—her eyes were already flicking toward Volkner, only a few seconds behind.

  “Like we talked abou—”

  The words never made it out.

  Her voice caught in her throat, cut clean off as her gaze finally registered what waited inside the hollowed-out tree.

  What.

  For a split second she just stared, frozen, and as Volkner caught up her brain still hadn’t managed to fully process what she was looking at.

  Myst—who had seen the scene a second sooner—reacted faster. He spun toward Volkner and threw up a hand, like he could physically hold the moment in place. “Wai—”

  He never finished the word.

  The instant Volkner arrived, his Pikachu reacted—exactly as they had planned. It launched off his shoulder in a single, practiced snap of motion, yellow light bursting from its cheeks. Rings of electricity erupted outward in a crackling pulse, lighting the cavern in strobing gold.

  Thunder Wave.

  It never reached.

  Before Pikachu’s attack reached even halfway to the massive Trevenant standing frozen at the center of the chamber, a burst of purple light slammed into it from the opposite direction.

  The two attacks collided midair—Psychic and Electric energy crashing together with a sharp, splitting crack—before erupting into a shower of bright, fizzing particles that sizzled against the bark-lined walls.

  Volkner skidded to a stop beside them, eyes widening as the last fading pulses of light finally illuminated the interior.

  She had imagined a lot of scenarios of what they could find.

  This was decidedly not one of them.

  Navi wasn’t huddled away in a cage or lying hurt in a corner. She was standing on the Trevenant’s shoulder, one hand lifted as both her horns glowed with concentrated Psychic energy, the last traces of Pikachu’s Thunder Wave still fading from the air.

  She had just defended the Pokémon they were here to rescue her from.

  What.

  Myst opened his mouth, some mix of relief and disbelief etched across his face, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But before he could say a word, a sound brushed through their minds.

  “Shhhhh.”

  Myst blinked.

  “What do you—”

  “Be quiet.” Navi’s telepathy sharpened, a soft hiss in Cynthia’s mind—firmer than she had ever heard her. “He is trying to rest.”

  Myst almost looked like he wanted to ignore her, but before he could decide the Elder Trevenant shifted.

  It was just a tiny movement, a slow tilt of its massive weight as one arm sagged slightly, its cracked crimson eye glancing towards them.

  Cynthia still felt like the world had narrowed in on her.

  It wasn’t an attack, wasn’t even deliberate, but the raw presence of something that strong pressed down on the air itself. It reminded her of meeting Lopunny back in Eterna, when the Normal-type’s sheer aura had nearly been enough to make her give up hope, even before she had tried making a single move.

  She had to force herself not to bend down.

  Navi reacted instantly.

  Her head snapped back toward the Trevenant, horns flaring brighter, soft purple light pulsing around them. She opened her mouth and began to sing—a low, melodic hum that vibrated gently through the hollow. One small hand rested against the Trevenant’s head as a soothing psychic glow spread from her palm, washing over the creature like waves of calm.

  The suffocating weight in the air thinned, and she felt herself relax slightly as both Myst and Volkner did the same, shoulders loosening while the invisible force ebbed away.

  Still…

  She lifted her eyes again, narrowing them as she focused on Navi, trying to figure out what she was actually doing. It only took a split second. After all, she recognized the move. Had seen it a million times. Hell, her grandmother’s Pokémon used to use that move on both her and Lily, when they didn’t fall asleep.

  Hypnosis.

  Navi was using Hypnosis, trying to keep it calm.

  Trying to put the Trevenant to sleep.

  Trying and failing.

  Cynthia licked her lips. She couldn’t say she was surprised that Navi hadn’t fully succeeded. In the first place, it had probably taken a miracle for Navi to even reach that position, let alone hold the Elder Trevenant under the faint, sluggish drowsiness she’d managed to induce.

  But that was the limit.

  In the end, the Elder Trevenant was still a Pokémon far too strong for Navi to truly affect. Because for all the psychic energy she was pouring into the giant, there were no real signs of success. It had reacted the instant they spoke—the pressure in the hollow spiking sharply in a way no sleeping Pokémon could replicate. Its red eye was still visible, still following them, but not really looking at them, crimson lines threading through the bark like veins refusing to unclench.

  But honestly? She didn’t even need those things to be true.

  Because the clearest indicator of all was what Navi was still doing.

  Still standing there.

  Still singing.

  Still using Hypnosis with everything she had.

  Myst took a careful step closer, giving Volkner a quick, sharp look that clearly meant follow. Then he leaned in, close enough that Cynthia could feel his breath brush her cheek.

  “That thing isn’t asleep, right?” he whispered.

  She shook her head at the exact same moment Volkner did.

  Myst’s nose scrunched at their perfectly synchronized answer, frustration flickering across his face before he tore his gaze back to Navi.

  Volkner opened his mouth, just enough to draw breath for a whisper, then stopped.

  He didn’t need to say why.

  Cynthia felt it before she fully saw it: the shift in the air, the weight of attention. The Elder Trevenant, which had been staring blankly into nothing a heartbeat ago, now locked onto them again. Fully, sharply, with a focus it hadn’t shown even during the fight with Johanna.

  A single root lifted from the floor.

  Queenie immediately stepped in front of Cynthia, posture taut, claws flexing—but the Trevenant didn’t attack.

  Instead, the root rose higher… then turned inward.

  It curled toward the titan’s own shoulder and closed gently—around Navi.

  Cynthia’s blood went cold.

  Shit, we need to—

  Rei moved.

  Cynthia didn’t see her start, there wasn’t enough distance in the hollow for Quick Attack to be more than a blur, but the burst of light was unmistakable.

  One moment nothing, and the next Rei was in midair, ear cocked back, red energy blazing over her fist—

  A root was already there, intercepting her strike in a crack of fire and wood that halted her in place.

  For a heartbeat, Rei hung there—suspended mid-air as she pushed against it, trying to force her Fire Punch through.

  But a Trevenant didn’t just have one root.

  Another shape uncoiled from the ground beneath her, rising in an unnatural, rubber-like arc. Rei had barely a heartbeat to register it before it snapped sideways—

  —and slammed into her ribs with brutal force, swatting her out of the air like she was a bug.

  She vanished.

  Her presence in the air simply winked out before she reappeared on the ground below. She hit hard, bounced once, then slammed into the wooden wall with enough force to make the entire tree shudder around them.

  Cynthia’s mouth snapped open, ready to shout for her team to attack.

  “Thu—!” Volkner’s voice rang out behind her.

  Neither got to finish.

  “Wait!” Myst’s voice cut through the hollow like a whip, almost cracking, as if he hadn’t even expected it to come out of his mouth.

  The command killed her words instantly.

  She froze, the half-formed order stuck in her throat as Myst suddenly surged forward—placing himself between the Trevenant and the rest of their group before either she or Volkner could react.

  Luxio and Pikachu skidded to a halt, fur still crackling with electricity as they stared at Myst. He didn’t seem to notice, or care, how close he’d just come to being hit by a Thunder Wave. His entire focus was somewhere else.

  He turned slowly and locked eyes with Navi.

  “...he says…” Myst swallowed, brow tightening. “He says he… doesn’t want to fight?”

  Cynthia blinked, confusion snapping through her shock.

  Myst’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to the Trevenant—then back to Navi—then unfocused slightly, like he was half-listening to something no one else could hear.

  “…she has been… great help…” Myst murmured, voice dropping as if trying to set words to something that didn’t really have any suitable ones. “She… granted… rest…little bird… bird sing.”

  He paused, longer this time, eyes lifting toward the massive Trevenant, whose dim crimson eye trembled weakly in its socket, but still locked on them.

  “I… have not… rested…” Myst continued, each word dragging, warped, “for… long… time…”

  His face twisted with strain and confusion, and he lifted a hand.

  “Wait. Please—slow down. I can’t… it’s hard to understand.”

  Cynthia’s eyes widened as realization hit her.

  Her gaze snapped to Navi.

  Her eyes were glowing, but not in the usual orange or purple, but a swirling, shifting mix of red and blue.

  Holy shit, she thought as the realization slammed into her.

  Navi had linked Myst to the Elder Trevenant, and he was desperately trying to translate the Grass-Ghost’s fractured thoughts into something they could understand.

  “No time,” Myst blurted suddenly, shoulders tightening again. His eyes unfocused. “...mind strength… lacking—no, fading?”

  He shook his head sharply.

  “…forbidden rest… I… fade. Consor—”

  He winced, correcting himself mid-word. “Majesty. Majesty… senses my resistance…I fade…”

  Then silence.

  Myst held his hand to his temple, swallowed, and hissed, “Questions?”

  Cynthia blinked—then her eyes widened as the meaning hit her. They could ask it.

  …But what did she ask first?

  About this place?

  About the structures outside?

  About why it was unable to rest.

  About why its abode had to smell so god damn sweet.

  There were so many things, so many—

  “We were with others. Where are they?” Volkner snapped out.

  Oh.

  Right.

  Myst’s gaze went glassy again. “…got… away… I… did not use… could not use full strength… safe.”

  Volkner nodded at that, then sent her a look, like he expected her to have a question ready.

  “What is this place? How did it come to exist?” She blurted out.

  The Trevenant rumbled. Myst winced, flinching like the sound hit him directly, but pressed on.

  “…commanded… build… Majesty… not remember… Majesty miss home… not remember…I not… understand not…”

  Cynthia shot Volkner a look. He looked just as lost.

  “We mean the Grass Kingdom,” he clarified. “The place her Majesty rules. How did it appear so fast? Where does it come from?”

  A root twitched—sharp, involuntary—and for a moment the Elder Trevenant didn’t answer. The bloodshot streaks around its eye seemed to flare, and the focus it had on them flickered, slipping out of alignment like its mind had simply… slipped.

  Cynthia tensed.

  Then, just as quickly, the moment passed. The single crimson eye refocused.

  “…underground… Majesty wants up… not underground… Majesty… not… Majesty… not…”

  The Trevenant stopped.

  Every part of its massive frame loosened at once, tendrils drooping, shoulders sinking, as if the faint thread holding it upright finally snapped.

  And Navi fell with it.

  She dropped from the crook of the Trevenant’s root like a puppet with its strings cut, hitting open air with no attempt to cushion herself, eyes still swirling red and blue, horns still glowing.

  Cynthia lunged, managing a single step—

  —but a flash of white crossed the hollow.

  Rei was there in an instant, catching the much larger Pokémon in her furry arms before she could hit the ground. The Buneary skidded, boots digging furrows into the dirt, absorbing the weight without letting Navi fall.

  Navi blinked, the glow draining from her eyes. She stared up at Rei, dazed and unfocused, as if she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d ended up in anyone’s arms at all.

  Rei just glared down at her—half exasperated, half relieved—before letting out a long, deflating sigh. She gave the Kirlia a firm, almost scolding pat on the head, then guided her carefully onto her feet.

  Cynthia stared at the scene, and as she was about to relax she instead caught sight of Myst swaying on his feet. Instinct took over. She surged forward and caught him just as his knees dipped, bracing her shoulder under his as his weight sagged.

  “You okay?” She asked quickly.

  He stared at her blankly for a moment, before blinking, as if the act of speaking had only just occurred to him.

  “Yeah,” he muttered, though it sounded anything but convincing. “Sorry. Just… a little dizzy. I think I almost fried my brain.”

  For a heartbeat, she almost wanted to glare at him, because they could have just used one of the Pokémon to translate. But she understood why he and Navi had done it anyway. Translating between two Pokémon was slow, painfully slow, compared to what had just happened.

  Still, if the end result was her boyfriend not ending up a drooling idiot for the rest of her life, she would gladly take slow.

  Myst caught her look and tried for a smile. It was lopsided, too bright, absolutely not even in the slightest reassuring.

  “Hey,” he said, “I said I was fine, didn’t I?”

  A root snapped out from the Trevenant.

  In an instant it crossed the entire hollow—no warning, no wind-up—just a blur of wood and force lashing straight toward Myst’s skull.

  For a fraction of a heartbeat, the world froze.

  Cynthia’s eyes widened a millimeter, her breath just beginning to catch.

  NO—

  Myst’s backpack exploded.

  BOOM!

  “Myst!” she heard herself shout, felt her voice crack—only to realize Myst was still standing, staring at her in shock.

  She blinked hard, her focus snapping past him—

  A shimmering, green Protect brightly between Myst and the root, the Elder Trevenant’s strike pressed uselessly against its surface.

  Myst’s backpack hung open, the latch blown clean off. And perched on top of the jumble of spare clothes, food, and supplies was a small, round, green and yellow Pokémon, glaring at the Elder Trevenant with a look caught somewhere between furious determination and solemn respect.

  Her instincts took over before anything else.

  “Queenie, get us out of here!”

  Queenie didn’t hesitate. The instant the Protect flickered and collapsed, with the small Grass-type sagging from the backlash, she was already on them. Like they weighed nothing, she grabbed Cynthia and Myst both, hoisted them under her arms like luggage, and bolted out of the hollow.

  Their teams reacted in the same heartbeat.

  Behind them, Cynthia caught a flash of yellow as Volkner sprinted after them, Pikachu firing a ring of lightning that slammed against the Trevenant’s bark. Rei scooped Navi up again without slowing, while Luxio skidded backward, firing streaks of electricity to force back any reaching roots.

  Then—

  CRACK.

  The entire tree shuddered behind them, the deep splitting sound vibrating through the ground.

  Cynthia twisted, eyes widening.

  Roselia stood at the mouth of the hollow, both flowers raised, expression furious. Blades of green light spiraled around him, coiling tighter and tighter before lancing upward into the trunk in a single, focused pillar.

  Magical Leaf.

  BOOM.

  The blast carved straight through the massive tree, detonating bark and dust in a blinding spray.

  Inside, the enormous Trevenant staggered—frozen mid-motion as Pikachu’s electricity crawled across its frame.

  Wood groaned, strained and splitered—

  —and then the whole structure, already cracked and carved from creating the hollow, simply gave way.

  It didn’t topple sideways.

  It collapsed straight through the center, splitting down the hollow like a snapped bone. The upper trunk crashed downward in a thunderous roar, vines whipping and bark exploding outward in a hail of debris as Roselia leapt clear of the collapse.

  By the time the dust began to settle, Queenie had already carried them halfway down the path.

  And by the time the Elder Trevenant hauled itself out of the wreckage, not even wounded, its crimson eye staring at everything and nothing all at once—

  Cynthia felt the familiar pull of teleportation seize her.

  This time, Navi’s Teleport wasn’t interrupted.

  welp.