Pokemon: An Unexpected Odyssey

Austin raised an eyebrow as he read the passage in the camping guidebook. It wasn't the usual stuff about setting up a tent or cooking over a fire—it was something he hadn't thought much about: clothing. The book emphasized how easily overlooked the right attire could be for trainers, especially those who traveled through different regions to sharpen their skills.

But what really caught his eye was the part about the gym circuit. It hit hard.

Approximately 80% of novice trainers fail against the first gym leader.

Austin paused, letting the weight of that statistic sink in. Eighty percent. That wasn't just a number; it was reality. And he'd felt it firsthand when he faced Brock. Brock wasn't the pushover you saw in the anime. No, the real Brock was tough—like, break-you-twice tough. And the idea that most trainers didn't even get past him made sense now.

He shuddered at the memory of that battle. Without all the prep and scouting he'd done beforehand, he would've been just another rookie crushed by Brock's Onix.

Just as Austin was lost in his thoughts, a familiar sound cut through the quiet.

"Eevee! Vee!"

Austin glanced down and saw his Eevee, gnawing at its paw, looking totally annoyed. What now? He set the book aside and knelt down to check on his partner. Eevee's little paw was raised, showing off his cute little toe beans, but the fur around them was too long, clearly irritating the pads.

"Ah, I see what's going on," Austin muttered, inspecting the paw closer. The fur had grown out too much, and it was bothering him. He reached into his grooming kit, the one he'd painstakingly organized—because, let's face it, he had a thing for being prepared—and pulled out a small trimmer.

Vee's eyes followed Austin's movements, his gaze shifting between the trimmer and his trainer, and Austin could see the nervousness creeping in. Don't worry, buddy, I got you. He gave Eevee a reassuring smile.

"This'll be quick and easy, Vee," Austin promised, turning on the trimmer. The soft buzz filled the air as he carefully took Eevee's paw in his hand, spreading his tiny toes apart. Let's get this done.

With precise movements, Austin guided the trimmer around the sensitive spots, clipping away the extra fur. To his surprise, Vee stayed still, trusting him completely. Eevee glanced up at Austin every now and then, like he was checking to make sure everything was going okay, and Austin would just nod, reassuring him without words.

A few minutes later, Austin turned off the trimmer and checked Eevee's paw. Perfect. No more stray hairs, no more irritation. He brushed off the clippings and gave Vee a soft pat on the head.

"All done, how's that feel?"

Vee let out an excited "Eve! Eve!" and stretched his paw, then playfully batted at Austin's hand.

Austin chuckled, feeling pretty good about himself. But then he glanced back at his grooming kit, and his mind shifted gears. Hmm... while we're at it… He looked over at Vee, who instantly seemed to sense what was coming next.

"That fur's looking awfully fluffy," Austin remarked with a grin.

Vee took a step back, his ears twitching as he eyed the kit and his trainer.

"Vee!"

Austin gave him a deadpan look, trying to play it cool. "No, I'm totally not making excuses to test out the rest of this grooming gear on you."

Vee's eyes narrowed, giving Austin a look that said, Really?

Austin sighed, shaking his head. "Come on, there's even a hot bubble bath in it for you afterward."

That, apparently, was the breaking point. Vee darted toward what he thought was an escape route, only to find the door shut. He turned back, eyes wide with betrayal, like Austin had just ruined whatever trust they had.

Austin couldn't help but laugh. He picked up the brush and the fur conditioner, flashing them in Vee's direction. "Let me make you pretty!"

Vee took several exaggerated steps backward until his back hit the door. He stood on his hind legs, shaking his head wildly, his expression straight out of a cartoon.

"Vee! Vee! Vee!" he cried, either pleading for mercy or calling on some higher power to save him. Austin couldn't be sure which.

Austin let out his best imitation of a villainous laugh—"Zehahahaha!"—fully embracing the moment. Man, he was enjoying this way too much.

Vee's eyes darted around, searching for an escape that wasn't there. Sorry, buddy. No running away from this one.

"Don't worry," Austin said, holding the brush like it was some kind of sacred weapon. "This is happening."

Austin strolled through the busy streets of Pewter City, trying hard not to laugh as Vee trotted alongside him, wearing his hat like a little celebrity. People smiled as they passed them, but the tension between Austin and Vee was… well, let's just say it wasn't exactly a bonding moment. Vee kept shooting Austin these heated glares, and he had to bite his lip to keep from bursting out laughing again.

Okay, maybe I went a little overboard with the grooming.

He glanced down at Vee—yeah, he had definitely gone overboard. The poor guy looked like a middle-aged uncle who'd just lost half his hair in a messy divorce. The top of his head was so bare, Austin could practically see his reflection in it. He had clipped way too much off. Why did I think that was a good idea?

Out of nowhere, Vee's tail whipped up, smacking Austin lightly across the leg.

"Come on, it's not that bad," Austin teased, barely holding back the laughter that was bubbling up again. "I mean, your fur will settle down to at least 50% of its original volume, right?"

That did it. Austin couldn't hold it in anymore, and he cracked up, laughing so hard that he almost doubled over. But when he finally looked at Vee, the laughter died in his throat. Vee's ears drooped, and he was staring down at the ground, clearly upset. Austin's heart sank a little.

Damn, I'm an idiot.

He knelt beside Vee, feeling the weight of the guilt hit him. "Look, buddy, I'm really sorry about the haircut. I didn't mean to… you know, turn you into a comedy act. How about this: after we're done with everything today, we'll visit a real Pokémon groomer, okay? A professional. They can fix this up, and I'll ask for some tips on how not to make you look like… this next time."

Vee nodded, his ears perking up a bit, and Austin scooped him up to give him a proper hug. Man, I owe him big time, he thought.

Just as things seemed to be settling, a gust of wind blew by, and—great, just Austin's luck—the hat flew off Vee's head, exposing his shiny bald spot to the world. The cold breeze made Vee shiver, and before Austin could even think, he stuffed Vee into his backpack, trying to shield him from the embarrassment.

"Bald!"

Austin froze.

Turning slowly, he saw a six-year-old kid standing a few feet away, pointing directly at them. Oh, for the love of...

"No, no, no, no bald here!" Austin stammered, trying desperately to play it off. Nothing to see here, folks!

"Bald!" the kid repeated, his little finger still aimed squarely at them like he was calling out the biggest scandal in Pewter City.

Great. Just great, Austin thought.

He retrieved the hat as fast as he could and was about to make his escape when the kid's voice rang out again, louder this time. "Bald!"

Okay, that's it. Austin couldn't take it anymore. He turned around and marched over to the kid, getting down to his level. Alright, little dude, you wanna play this game? Austin thought.

"Listen up," Austin said, trying to sound serious but feeling ridiculous as the words left his mouth. "Make a note of this: you're bald, your mama's bald, your teddy bear's probably bald—"

Austin stopped mid-rant, his brain finally catching up to the insanity of what he was saying. The kid's eyes started welling up with tears, and he instantly regretted every word. Oh no. Oh crap, Austin thought.

And then, of course, the kid started crying. Big, loud sobs. Everyone around them was staring now, and all Austin could think was: I'm so screwed.

So, he did the only logical thing he could think of. He turned and ran. Fast.

Yeah, definitely handled that perfectly, Austin thought.

Austin stepped into the small tailor shop, tucked away on one of the quieter streets in Pewter City. It was cozy, warm even, the kind of place you'd easily miss if you weren't looking for it. The air was filled with the soft hum of an old sewing machine, and he couldn't help but glance at the Caterpie perched nearby, diligently spinning silk like it was part of the staff. The shelves were lined with rolls of fabric in all kinds of textures and colors—it felt like he had just walked into the kind of place that paid attention to detail.

A man hunched over the sewing machine looked up as Austin entered, his hands never stopping their work. "Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as the Caterpie handed him another thread of silk. This place has charm, Austin thought.

"I'm looking to have some clothes made... from unconventional material," Austin said, a little smirk tugging at his lips.

The tailor paused, one eyebrow lifting in curiosity. "Unconventional material?" he repeated, his voice trailing with interest.

Austin nodded, pulling out a pile of fabric from his bag. He had gone through a pretty meticulous process—taking apart the garments he'd "borrowed" from those Team Rocket grunts he knocked out on Mt. Moon. He was careful not to leave a trace of its original ownership, removing the seams, pulling off the insignia. You wouldn't know this came from Rocket gear unless I told you, he thought.

The tailor's fingers brushed over the fabric, and Austin watched the skepticism on the man's face melt into surprise. "This is high-grade stuff," the tailor muttered, his voice now tinged with respect. "Waterproof, fireproof, scratch-resistant, tear-resistant, UV-protected, mold-resistant, and antimicrobial." He lifted a piece closer to his face, studying it with newfound interest. "This could take a hit from a Rhydon and keep the human alive."

Austin blinked, a little surprised himself. Team Rocket sure doesn't cheap out on their uniforms, he thought. "Really didn't expect that."

The tailor's eyes flicked up to meet Austin's, sharp now. "Where did you get this?"

Austin shrugged, leaning into the casual air he was aiming for. "If I get a good deal, maybe I'll share the story."

The tailor paused, mulling over the offer, then nodded. "Alright, 30% off."

Austin grinned. Easy enough. "Make it 40%, and you've got a deal," he countered smoothly.

"Let's settle at 35%," the tailor said, extending his hand for a shake. Austin took it, sealing the deal.

"Deal," Austin said. He wasn't going to tell the real story, so he whipped up something that sounded halfway decent. "Found it in an old WWII crate, sealed up like it was ready for a time capsule."

The tailor chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, what are you thinking of making with it?"

Austin looked at the fabric again, feeling the weight of it in his hands. "Some T-shirts, long and short sleeves, and a couple of windbreakers."

The tailor nodded, doing the mental math. "I can do three T-shirts and two windbreakers for 3,000 Pokédollars."

"And some pants and gloves? I've got six that need resizing," Austin added, gesturing to the rest of the gear.

The tailor thought for a moment, then nodded. "Same price."

"How long will it all take?" he asked, feeling the itch to get going. He didn't have a lot of time.

"One week," the tailor said, as if it was already set in stone.

"Any chance you could rush it? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"For a rush job, I'd need to charge an extra 2,000 Pokédollars," the tailor explained, watching Austin's reaction closely.

"That works for me," he said, handing over the Pokédollars. He glanced around the shop, then remembered another thing on his list. "Oh, and one more thing—know where I can find a good Pokémon grooming salon?"

The tailor nodded, scribbling down an address for Austin without missing a beat. The guy was thorough, Austin would give him that.

"There's a place not too far from here. They do excellent work," the tailor said, handing Austin the address.

Austin took the slip of paper, pocketing it with a nod. Perfect. Vee's going to get the royal treatment, and he would be walking out of Pewter with some upgraded gear. Not a bad day's work, he thought, satisfied with how things were coming together.

Vee sat on the oversized grooming salon chair, looking incredibly out of place. His little body practically disappeared in the massive seat, and Austin could feel his discomfort radiating off him in waves.

The barber, a woman with short, cropped hair and a smile that practically lit up the room, stepped forward to assess Vee's condition. Her apron was filled with tools, each one seemingly ready to fix the mess Austin had made. "Looks like a bit of a botched job," she remarked, her eyes flicking to Austin with a playful smirk before turning back to Vee. Austin felt his face heat up.

Yeah, he totally deserved that.

"I can tidy it up around the sides," she continued, her voice soothing as she gently touched Vee's fur. "Maybe add a small faux fur piece if Eevee feels a bit shy about his appearance."

Austin glanced down at Vee, who was trying his best to hide how self-conscious he felt. His ears twitched, and Austin could almost hear his thoughts. Vee gave a hesitant nod, and he exhaled in relief. "That'd be great, thanks."

"Alright, let's get started," she said brightly, fastening a black grooming cape around Vee. He looked like a tiny, fluffy king sitting there, though Austin could tell Vee wasn't exactly thrilled about it.

Austin moved over to one of the seats nearby, trying to settle in and relax while keeping an eye on Vee. He was Austin's partner, and seeing him nervous made Austin feel on edge too. As he sat down, though, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. The guy next to him was hidden behind a massive broadsheet, the kind of thing you only see in old detective movies. It lowered slightly, and when Austin caught a glimpse of the face behind it, his heart skipped a beat.

Brock? What the—

Before Austin could even process what was happening, a hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his immediate reaction. Brock, wearing some ridiculous disguise—sunglasses and a fake mustache that fooled literally no one—leaned in close, his expression dead serious. "Talk. Outside."

Austin gave a quick nod, feeling like he'd just been dragged into some sort of spy movie. Brock's grip loosened, and Austin swallowed hard, the surprise still buzzing in his head. What was Brock doing here, and why all the secrecy?

They both stood up, moving as casually as possible toward the door. The groomer barely noticed them, too focused on fixing the mess Austin had made of Vee's fur. She was working like a pro, trimming here and there with delicate precision. Vee, despite his earlier nervousness, seemed to be calming down, probably realizing he was in good hands. Austin felt a small bit of relief wash over him at that.

But still, what was Brock up to?

The moment they stepped outside, the cool air hit Austin's face, his mind buzzing with questions, but before he could even get one out, Brock was already scanning the area like they were fugitives.

"You know, the fake glasses and mustache combo isn't exactly a winning strategy for getting her number."

Brock blinked. "What?" It took him a second to process what Austin was saying before his eyes automatically followed Austin's thumb back toward the Pokémon groomer inside.

"I wasn't—" Brock started defensively, but the boy's look—one of pure skepticism—must have said it all. He stopped short.

"You weren't going to ask her out?"

"Yes," Brock said, but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Austin couldn't help it; he rolled his eyes and threw his head back, staring up at the sky as if looking for some kind of divine intervention. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for a portal to hell to open. Maybe Giratina will jump out," Austin muttered, sarcasm practically oozing from every word.

Brock blinked at him, clearly lost. "Who?"

Oh for the love of— "Jesus Christ, Brock," Austin sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. Didn't he get the joke?

"Who's that?" Brock asked, still utterly confused.

Austin snorted. Of course, Brock wouldn't get that reference. Wrong world.

"Alright, fine," Austin said, waving it off. "In good faith, I'll believe you weren't hitting on her. So, what's up then?"

Brock mumbled something under his breath, too low for Austin to catch.

"What? Speak up!" Austin pressed, narrowing his eyes.

Brock cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "I… I wanted to see how Pokémon are groomed by a professional."

Austin stared at him, blinking in disbelief. That's it? He dragged him outside for this? Without thinking, the boy turned and re-entered the salon, leaving Brock standing there. "Hey," Austin called out to the groomer, who was still working on Vee, "Can my friend watch you work?"

Brock's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he rushed back in, looking ready to beg Austin not to make things worse. "I have a hobby as an amateur Pokémon breeder," Brock blurted out, clearly panicking. "I wanted to see if grooming affects mating. I'm just here to pick up some techniques."

The groomer smiled warmly, completely oblivious to how awkward Brock looked. "Of course! Feel free to watch," she said, turning her attention back to Vee.

As they settled into seats nearby, Brock leaned over and muttered, "You're so blunt."

Austin chuckled, swinging his legs back and forth in the chair like a kid who'd just won something. "You should be thankful," he said with a smirk. "Otherwise, she might've thought you were up to something sketchy."

Brock let out a long, defeated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… you're right."

Austin grinned. Of course he was right.

As the groomer left to grab a piece of faux fur for Vee, Austin glanced over at Brock. His disguise—if you could call it that—was still so ridiculous, but Austin couldn't shake the curiosity gnawing at him. "Brock, why the disguise?"

Brock shifted in his seat, avoiding Austin's eyes.

"I didn't want people recognizing me."

Austin leaned forward slightly. "Why's that?"

There was a hesitation in the air, like Brock was debating whether or not to spill whatever was on his mind. Austin could see the internal struggle in the way Brock clenched his jaw.

"You're worried about your siblings finding out you prefer breeding to battling, aren't you?"

Brock's head snapped toward him, his eyes widening in surprise. Got it right, huh? Austin could almost see the shock etched on Brock's face before he quickly masked it. "How did you…?"

Austin shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just a hunch."

Brock looked down, his voice softening as he finally admitted, "It's not that I dislike battling, but I have other passions."

They sat in silence, waiting for the groomer to come back. Austin's mind wandered to Flint, and he couldn't help but ask, "How are things going with Flint?"

The second Austin said it, Brock's face changed. It hardened. Not good, Austin thought.

The boy hesitated, feeling the weight of what he was about to say, but he pushed forward anyway. "Brock, can I be blunt?"

Brock let out an annoyed hum, clearly not in the mood, but Austin kept going.

"I think you should consider forgiving Flint."

Brock's head turned sharply, his eyes narrowing into slits. The air between them instantly grew tense. "And just forget the past?" Brock's voice was low, but there was anger simmering beneath the surface.

Austin shook his head quickly, his hands coming up in a gesture of peace. "No, not forget. Just… don't let it control your future."

Brock scoffed, a harsh, bitter sound that cut through the moment. "That's easy for you to say."

Austin could feel himself stepping onto thin ice, but he couldn't stop. "Your siblings could really use their father around," he pressed, knowing he was probably going too far but unable to hold back.

That's when it happened.

Brock's hand shot out, gripping the collar of Austin's shirt with a force that took the breath right out of him. Brock pulled him close, his face inches from Austin's. "You don't know enough about this to lecture me," Brock hissed, his voice low and threatening. "Keep out of it."

"EeVee!" Vee barked, his fur bristling as he took a step forward, ready to defend Austin.

The moment stretched uncomfortably long, the weight of Brock's anger heavy in the air. But then they both heard the sound of the groomer's footsteps approaching, and Brock let go, stepping back as if the intensity of the moment never happened. He wasn't looking at Austin now, but the message was clear—he had crossed a line.

Austin stood there, his heart pounding in his chest, the realization sinking in. He'd known Brock as a character from a show, someone with quirks and an over-the-top love for pretty girls. But this wasn't some fictional world with happy endings wrapped up in twenty minutes. Brock was real—his pain, his anger, his family's struggles—it was all real. And the boy had stupidly barreled into something he barely understood.

"Sorry," Austin muttered, his voice barely audible as he stared at the floor, feeling the shame crawl up his neck. "I sometimes forget when to shut up."

Brock was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, his voice cold and distant, "What connection do you have to my father?"

Austin met Brock's gaze, deciding there was no point in hiding anything. "He was my guide when I first arrived in Pewter City. He helped me out a lot. During my training, he… he tried to bribe me not to battle you."

Brock's eyebrows shot up.

"I think he regrets a lot of things from his past," Austin said, his words slower now, more measured. "It seems like he wishes he could turn back time to fix his mistakes. Sadly, he can only try to mend what's broken now."

Brock didn't say anything.

Brock sat there, listening, trying to wrap his head around everything being said. At first, he couldn't believe it—couldn't process the idea that his father, Flint, was actually trying to make things right. But as the words sank in, he felt something inside him shift. It wasn't an instant thing, more like a slow burn. A flicker of relief, of hope. Could Flint really be trying to make amends? Could Brock actually allow himself to believe that?

Maybe I should give Flint a chance, he thought, leaning back in the chair. He felt his body loosen up as the tension slowly drained from his shoulders. A part of him wanted to believe that his father was serious this time, that he wasn't just going to vanish into thin air like before. The thought stirred something deep—something he hadn't felt in a long time. Was it happiness? It had been so long since he had allowed himself to feel that when it came to his father. But now… now he couldn't ignore that little spark of possibility.

"Are you Bag Boy?"

Austin's heart slammed into his chest like a Thunderbolt. How did Brock know? Was it a guess? A shot in the dark? Or worse—did someone spill the beans? He felt the world around him spin for a moment as he tried to piece together how Brock could have connected the dots. The timelines… the battles… had he slipped up? Did others know? Was the League onto him? Giovanni?

Before his mind could spiral any further down that dangerous path, the groomer's voice broke through the chaos in his head like a lifeline. "What color do you think would look best?" she asked, holding up a few fur pieces, oblivious to the tension swirling around him.

Austin latched onto her voice like a drowning man grabbing onto a rope. "Let's ask Vee," he said, forcing himself to sound casual, trying to buy time to get his heart rate back under control.

But Brock's question was still there, hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst. Bag Boy. That wasn't just a simple question—he was testing him, connecting the dots based on timelines and similarities only someone like him could see. Gym leaders were scarily sharp.

Austin could feel the weight of his next words pressing down on him. If he acknowledged it, even in the slightest, everything could unravel. Denial. Denial was the safest bet. But how should he frame it? How could he sell it?

He glanced at Brock, playing dumb. "Who's that?"

Brock raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Don't you watch the news?"

Oh, man. He's digging now. How the heck was Austin supposed to bluff his way through this? He gave Brock a sheepish grin, keeping his voice light. "Wow, that's awesome, but no, I don't watch the news. Too boring for me. I'd rather focus on my battles."

He leaned into the just a dumb kid persona, keeping his words light, his tone carefree, almost exaggeratedly so. It was a delicate balance, making himself sound sharp enough on the battlefield to explain his skills but not too sharp. Definitely not sharp enough to be connected to Bag Boy.

"It's been almost a week since our battle. Why are you still hanging around Pewter?"

Austin had to think fast. "I've been taking rock climbing classes at the Pewter City Indoor Climbing Center," he said smoothly, not missing a beat. "You can ask them if you want."

Brock didn't blink. "Why rock climbing?"

Here we go. Austin flashed a grin, leaning into the explanation. "Simple. I thought of a new training method for my Pokémon. I'm gonna have them climb the mountain ranges around Mt. Moon with weights tied to them."

The excitement Austin let bleed into his voice wasn't entirely fake. It was a half-truth, after all. He could feel himself warming to the subject, hoping it'd throw Brock off. If he could get him hooked on the idea, maybe he'd stop poking around. "It'll build their strength, endurance, everything."

"You could easily just go through the tunnels, though," Brock replied, still suspicious, still watching Austin closely.

Austin slapped on a big, exaggerated grin. "Yeah, but how would I do my super-secret awesome training then?" he said, voice dripping with enthusiasm. He even threw in an over-the-top smile for good measure.

Brock paused. Austin could see the wheels turning in his head. For a moment, he wasn't sure if Brock would buy it, but then his expression softened, flickering between doubt and reconsideration.

Huh, maybe I got it all wrong.

He could almost see the suspicion fading from Brock's eyes. Austin let out a small, relieved breath, though he made sure to keep it quiet. Don't celebrate yet, he reminded himself. Not until Brock was fully off the trail.

Just then, a loud squeal pulled both of their attention back to Vee. The groomer was fussing over him, and—oh Arceus—Vee was wearing a blonde wig. A long, flowing blonde wig. It was the most ridiculous thing Austin had ever seen. Vee tilted his head dramatically, the wig's golden locks flowing like something straight out of a cheesy movie.

Austin couldn't help it—he burst out laughing. So did Brock. The absurdity of it all, after everything, was just too much. Vee shot Austin a look, wiggling his eyes in a way that just screamed, Aren't I fabulous?

Austin gave him a double thumbs up, still chuckling. Brock, meanwhile, was trying (and failing) to keep a straight face.

Maybe Brock really had dropped the Bag Boy thing after all. Austin watched as Brock shook his head, his suspicions melting away.

This naive, goofball, battle-obsessed kid—that's all Brock saw now. There was no way someone like me could be Bag Boy. At least, that's what Austin hoped Brock believed.

For now, he was safe. But deep down, Austin knew he had to be more careful. Because next time… there might not be a way to laugh it off.

Vee tiptoed through the desolate shopping mall. The only sound was the soft padding of his paws against the cold, hard floor. Shadows loomed large as the dim light from outside barely penetrated the thick grime on the windows, casting strange, distorted shapes across the walls.

As he ventured deeper, the abandoned stores gaped like dark mouths with empty shelves. Vee's ears twitched at the slightest noise—a distant drip of water, the creak of a settling building—that seemed to echo endlessly in the vast, empty space.

Passing a row of mannequins, Vee paused. Their blank eyes seemed to follow him, their pale, featureless faces unnervingly still. A shiver ran down his spine as he moved away, his footsteps quickening.

He found himself by some heavy curtains that swayed slightly, though there was no breeze. The air was stale and cold, sending a chill through his fur. Vee pushed past the curtains, peering into the darkness beyond when suddenly a Team Rocket grunt lunged at him aggressively.

In an instant, Vee felt a familiar and frightening restraint—a metal collar, reminiscent of his time in the lab, snapped around his neck.

"Hold still, this is for a great cause," the grunt murmured, his form unsettlingly shifting into that of a scientist. The scientist wore a sterile white lab coat, splattered with blood stains, his hands covered in tight latex gloves. He held a syringe filled with a greenish liquid.

Human, save me! Vee cried out desperately, the panic rising as the needle pierced his skin.

He suddenly jerked awake.

Thankfully, he was on the couch, unlike Pikachu, who was sleeping peacefully on a pillow beside him. Shivering and panting, Vee struggled to orient himself. His fur was damp with sweat, and his heart pounded fiercely against his ribcage. The remnants of the nightmare clung to his mind, blurring the line between sleep and wakefulness. Vee's eyes darted around the room, seeking something familiar to anchor his reality. Gradually, the familiar shapes of furniture and the gentle, rhythmic breathing of Austin sleeping helped calm his racing thoughts.

Just a nightmare, just a nightmare, he reassured himself, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. Yet, the thought of closing his eyes and slipping back into the darkness of sleep terrified him.

Why am I having these nightmares now? When I am safe...

Vee's gaze drifted to Pikachu, the teammate who had been with him from the start—the friend who got hurt because of him. A heavy weight of guilt settled in his chest as he closed his eyes, a painful thought taking root in his mind.

They would be safer if I wasn't around.

They called him Seymour the Crazy. Behind his back, of course. But he heard them. He always heard them. Pewter City had no shortage of skeptics and dismissive grins whenever he passed by. It was easier for people to laugh and label him a madman than to confront the truth.

Team Rocket.

The very name twisted knots in his stomach. If they truly had their sights set on Mt. Moon, the Clefairy tribe was in grave danger. They'd sell them off to the highest bidder like mere commodities—cute faces with price tags. The thought made his blood simmer.

But funds… the curse of all his ventures. He had barely enough to keep his research afloat, let alone hire a proper mercenary trainer. The type that rented their skills because they couldn't quite make it to the big leagues, those who hovered around the seventh-grade Pokémon ranges. Reliable, maybe, but far too expensive. With every coin counted and most of his grants exhausted, he needed a cheaper, more grassroots solution.

Standing outside the Pewter City Pokémon League, he could feel every bead of sweat gathering on his brow. The sign he held up felt heavier than it was, like it bore the weight of his desperation. He scribbled out a rhyme, something that might appeal to wandering trainers looking for a quick job: "Hiring for a trek to Mt. Moon's heart, will pay 2000, who's ready to start?"

The money was all he had to offer.

Two thousand Pokédollars wasn't much for the trek he had in mind, and certainly not for the risk. As the hours ticked by, most trainers simply glanced his way before hurrying on. They knew, as he did, that Mt. Moon was an untamed labyrinth of danger. Some stopped to inquire, eyes gleaming with thoughts of easy cash. But their interest always fizzled when he mentioned his plans.

His heart sank a little more with each dismissive reply. He was after the secret Clefairy tribe, the guardians of the secret hidden in the heart of Mt. Moon. Those who truly understood the rhythms of the moonlight…

He'd almost given up, slumping back on a bench with his shoulders weighed down, when a shadow stopped in front of him. He looked up. A young trainer, his face mostly hidden under the hood of his jacket. The black windbreaker with its red inner lining and the patches on the sleeves looked… lived-in. There was a quiet sense of familiarity about him, not in his face, but in his aura. A vagabond who felt at home in the chaos of the road.

The trainer said nothing at first, inspecting his sign with the quiet curiosity of someone trying to figure out an obscure riddle. Is he mocking me? The thought flickered in, but something about the way the trainer carried himself made Seymour hold his tongue. Underneath the jacket, he noticed a black and white hoodie—layers on layers, rolled-up pants at the ankles.

His eyes drifted down, and there was the trainer's Pikachu. Nestled in what looked like a baby carrier, casually slurping on a ketchup packet. A ketchup packet, of all things. He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath.

Cute, he thought, but it was a peculiar sight.

"Are you serious about this?" The trainer's voice startled Seymour. It was level, without the mocking tone he'd come to expect. He found himself nodding, perhaps too quickly, as if to convince himself as well.

"Yes… Yes, I am," he replied, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat.

For a moment, the trainer seemed to weigh his words, his expression indecipherable beneath the hood.

The trainer glanced at his Pikachu, who looked bored out of its mind and yet… resigned. Seymour caught a glimpse of a Rattata's tail sticking out from the boy's pocket, twitching as it slept. A Rattata? What sort of team is this guy running?

"When do we get going?"

Seymour adjusted his glasses with fingers that betrayed his nerves. His old habit of rhyming took over—something to steady his mind, keep it from racing too far ahead. "Oh, straight to the point, quick to the task! Let's prepare, any questions you ask?"

"How long?"

"Until I get my task done?" Seymour responded instinctively, realizing only a moment later how vague that sounded.

"Which is?"

"I want you to help me capture a Clefairy, and I'm going to tag it." There. He said it. Not the whole truth yet, but enough for the boy to know the basics. He could see the question brewing in the boy's eyes, and it came right on cue.

"Tag it?" The boy's voice held the slightest tinge of suspicion.

Seymour took a breath, steadying his heartbeat. Calm down, Seymour, he told himself. Explain like a professional. "It's a method of attaching a small tracker," he began, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Not harmful, just a way to lead us to the bigger tribe. I'm not going to poach them. I'm a scientist," he assured the boy, fumbling for his identification card with slightly shaky hands. The tags he carried were often used by illegal poachers.

He held up his card, making sure the boy saw it. "I'm certified," he added, the rhyme slipping naturally into his words. "I study, I track. That's a fact." Too much, Seymour, he chastised himself, but the habit was hard to break when he was anxious.

The boy's eyes darted between the card and the tags, assessing Seymour for what felt like an eternity. Seymour braced for another round of accusations or, worse, the boy's departure. But instead, the boy nodded slightly, his face showing no sign of disbelief.

"Don't worry, I believe you," the boy said, and Seymour felt a weight lift off his chest. Before he could even express his relief, the boy continued, "I just had a quick question. Why does poaching exist? Can't they just use a Pokéball?"

A valid question. One that caught Seymour off guard. Most trainers didn't think to ask that—they just accepted the reality of poaching as an ugly part of the world.

"Well," Seymour began, adjusting his glasses again, "the answer is simply money. Pokéballs cost a lot. And not just that—raising and catching Pokémon ethically requires time and resources. For some, it's easier to poach and sell Pokémon on the black market. And… many newbie trainers get their first Pokémon from there, bought by their parents because it's cheaper than going out, buying a Pokéball, or paying for a Pokémon ranch."

The boy nodded, his expression contemplative. His eyes shifted to the ground for a moment, as if weighing Seymour's words, trying to piece together this harsh truth with the ideals he probably held onto. He looked younger then, less the hardened trainer and more a boy burdened by a reality he didn't quite understand.

There it is again, Seymour thought, observing the boy closely. That odd mix of maturity and youthful curiosity. Something about him seemed old beyond his years. But Seymour knew better than to ask questions; his task was risky enough without probing into his only ally's secrets.

The boy finally broke the silence, lifting his gaze back to Seymour with a resolute nod. "Whenever you're ready," he said simply, his voice unwavering.

"Alright," Seymour managed, his own voice steadying at last. "Let's get going then."

The route to the Mt. Moon tunnels was as straightforward as they came, but the security was a whole different story. After everything with Team Rocket, the Rangers here weren't messing around, and it wasn't long before Austin found himself standing in a line, the scrutiny of their eyes making his skin itch. Great, he thought, watching the way they were checking every trainer and their Pokémon.

One of the Rangers, a burly guy with an expression that said he didn't have time for anyone's crap, barked out, "All Pokémon for inspection!"

That irked Austin more than it should've. His hand tensed slightly, fingers brushing the edge of Pikachu's carrier. Pikachu gave him a side-eye, his whiskers still smeared with ketchup. It was almost like he was silently telling him, Relax, it's just another day. Easy for Pikachu to say.

"Nothing to worry about?" Austin muttered under his breath, lifting him out for the inspection. The Ranger's eyebrow twitched at the sight of Pikachu's whiskers, but he didn't comment. His eyes drifted over to the lump of fur in Austin's pocket, and he pointed. Austin reached in and gently pulled out the half-asleep Rattata. She was hairless now, shaven down because of those burns—nothing serious, Nurse Joy had sworn.

Your fur will grow back, baby girl, Austin thought, giving her a light rub on the head.

The Ranger's eyebrows shot up, and Austin felt his breath hitch, a split-second panic that every one of these inspections seemed to bring out in him. He handed over the documents Nurse Joy had prepared, making sure his face stayed neutral, like all of this was routine. Nothing to see here, he silently willed the Ranger. Austin had double-checked everything, made sure there were no cracks in the story.

The Ranger glanced at the paperwork and then back at Rattata, his eyes narrowing just slightly. For a moment, Austin thought he was going to press the issue, but he didn't. Probably doesn't get paid enough to care about a hairless Rattata, he told himself as he gently tucked her back into his pocket, her tiny frame relaxing once she was secure again.

Austin released Vee next.

The Ranger gave him a look when Vee shook his head dramatically, making his little wig flutter like a cape. Pikachu rolled his eyes, and Austin could almost feel him judging Vee.

"Pokémon, am I right?" Austin quipped.

"Weirdo," the burly man muttered, the corner of his lip twitching in mild annoyance.

Fuck off, Austin thought, but kept his mouth shut. No sense in stirring the pot.

His mind quickly shifted to Spearow, the last member of the team. He'd made the call to leave him at the Pokémon Center with Nurse Joy. Less attention, fewer questions, and ultimately fewer risks. Even though he could have forged the paperwork if he had to, it wasn't worth the added scrutiny. Always better to play it safe, he reminded himself.

The Ranger moved on to the next trainer, and Austin let out a quiet breath, feeling some of the tension release from his shoulders. This wasn't his first security check, and it probably wouldn't be the last. But it still left a bitter taste in his mouth every time. Just keep moving, he thought, adjusting his bag as he headed further into the tunnel.

As they moved through the checks, Austin noticed Seymour glancing at him, his fingers fiddling nervously with his coat buttons.

"Do you do this often?" Seymour asked.

"What do you mean?" Austin responded, not quite sure what he was trying to get at. They were already entering the tunnel, the air growing colder.

"You have a multi-type team," Seymour clarified, but Austin could tell he was still trying to rhyme something in his head.

What is this old man on about? "Can you explain without rhymes?" Austin asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt. Seymour's rhyming had a way of gnawing at his patience, especially when he didn't understand half of what the scientist was trying to say.

Seymour paused, then took a breath, his eyes darting away like he was searching for the right words. "Most trainers go for a monotype team because it's easier to train due to similarities in diet, equipment, and routines," he explained, his voice sounding almost relieved to be talking straight.

Okay, that answered a question I didn't even have, Austin thought, his brain clicking through the logic. He'd always chalked it up to preference, but it made sense in a way. Monotype teams meant less hassle, less money spent. Maybe he'd been lucky with Professor Oak's backing.

"Well," Austin said, trying to keep his voice casual, "my sponsor is Professor Oak." He didn't mention the rest; it wasn't worth getting into.

Seymour nodded, looking almost reassured. They finally reached a checkpoint—a small public section of the tunnel that led to multiple different paths. Another Ranger stood waiting, clipboard in hand. Seymour approached him and handed over more documents, his hands trembling just slightly.

The Ranger looked over the papers, nodded, and let them pass into the Pokémon territories. Austin exhaled quietly, his shoulders loosening up a bit. Seymour turned to him, pulling out a large, crinkled map from his coat. The paper rustled noisily as he tried to flatten it against the tunnel wall with a frantic sort of precision.

"Okay, now what?" Austin asked.

Seymour didn't look up, tracing his finger over the map. "From observations I've made, the Clefairy tribe stays out of sight, atop Mt. Moon, they seek moonlight, to bathe their forms in silver bright," he recited, eyes wide with something bordering on excitement. He looked like he was waiting for the boy to acknowledge his little poetic verse.

"Can we please drop the rhymes?" Austin deadpanned, hoping it didn't come off too harsh.

Seymour blinked at him, then nodded sheepishly. For the first time since they met, he actually looked like a regular person—a scientist with too many worries and not enough answers.

They immediately got into discussing the territories where Clefairy were most likely to be spotted. Seymour seemed to have the whole area mapped out in his head, rambling about moonlight patterns and energy fields. Austin just nodded, letting him lead the conversation while he broke a glow stick. The tunnel ahead was dark—the kind of dark that presses in on all sides—but the faint green glow gave them just enough light to see a few steps ahead. Vee took point, eyes sharp and ears twitching at the slightest noise.

"Pika, Pi," Pikachu muttered from his spot in the carrier, looking restless.

"No," Austin said firmly. "You need the rest. Vee's got this." Pikachu sighed dramatically, turning away as if to make a point. Austin would have to deal with that attitude later, but right now, keeping the team in good shape was priority number one.

They went deeper into the tunnel, and it didn't take long before the first wild Pokémon showed up—a Zubat, wings flapping frantically in the dim light. Vee sprang forward, making quick work of it with a swift strike. The little guy was proving to be a powerhouse in his own right. From what Austin had noticed, Vee could use all the moves of his potential evolutions, just without the usual boost a Pokémon got from their type specialty. No big deal, though—he still managed to one-shot anything that crossed their path.

Pikachu watched with an irritated flick of his tail. Austin could see the jealousy simmering there. Pikachu wasn't used to being outdone, and Vee's growing versatility was clearly getting under his fur.

Seymour broke the silence, his voice laced with curiosity. "Where do you think Pokémon come from, Austin?"

Austin blinked, thrown off by the question. What kind of conversation starter is that? His memory of Seymour's theories from the anime was vague at best. Seymour was obsessed with some weird stuff, but Austin hadn't expected to actually run into him.

"Uh…" he hesitated, trying to figure out what to say. Seymour took the pause as an opportunity to dive headfirst into his lecture.

"Ever since I was young," he began, his voice gaining a touch of enthusiasm, "I used to look up at the skies and wonder about Pokémon. I believe they came from space."

"From space?" Austin echoed, not quite sure what to make of it.

"Yes," Seymour continued, eyes bright with the kind of excitement only true believers have. "And where do they come from, you might ask? The Moon Stone! Hidden deep within Mt. Moon is a massive Moon Stone—a spaceship, in a way, that brought them here."

Austin forced a polite smile, not wanting to be rude. "Well… That's certainly an original theory."

Seymour's face fell slightly. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Austin sighed internally. "Look," he chose to lie, "not to brag or anything, but my sponsor is Professor Oak. So, I've been around some of the best theories on the planet."

Seymour didn't miss a beat, his enthusiasm undampened. "Knowledge is a treasure, meant to be shared. Theories are just starting points to uncovering new truths."

Well, that backfired immediately, Austin thought, running a hand through his hair. Alright, if this is how it's gonna be, I'm going to school this man.

He could almost hear his older brother's voice ringing in his head. Oi, useless Pokémon encyclopedia. His brother never missed a chance to throw that at him whenever Austin went off on a rant about something he found boring. But this time, it wasn't his brother. It was his own voice pushing him forward, daring him to show off a little.

"First," Austin began, making sure to sound as casual as possible, "have you heard of Arceus, bearer of the universe's genesis?"

The name caught Seymour off guard, and even Pikachu stopped sulking long enough to perk up his ears. Guess I have their attention now, Austin thought, feeling a small spark of satisfaction.

"What Pokémon is Arceus?" Seymour asked, his curiosity overriding that habit of his to rhyme everything.

Austin let a slight smile creep onto his face. "Arceus is a Legendary Pokémon from the Sinnoh Region. It's said to be the God Pokémon, the one who created three others: Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina." He noticed Seymour's eyes widen slightly as he mentioned each name. Hooked, he thought, and kept going.

"Dialga became the Master of Time, and Palkia became the Master of Space—two of the world's foundations," Austin explained, enjoying the way Seymour hung on his words. "But Giratina… Giratina was banished to a place called the Reverse World because it was too violent. After those three, Arceus created another trio: Azelf, Uxie, and Mesprit. They represent Willpower, Knowledge, and Emotions."

Seymour's brow furrowed as if he was trying to make sense of it all. "I've never heard of these Pokémon," he admitted, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity rather than doubt.

"Well," Austin replied, letting out a small chuckle, "they're only the beginning. After that, Arceus created three more: Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza during the Earth's early days. Groudon shaped the land, Kyogre ruled the sea, and Rayquaza commanded the skies. They're known as the Weather Trio."

Austin could feel Pikachu's eyes on him, almost as if he were rolling them. Yeah, yeah, I know, showing off, he thought, half-expecting Pikachu to sigh dramatically.

"When Groudon stirs, the sun blazes harshly. When Kyogre moves, rain falls endlessly. Rayquaza was the only one strong enough to end their fights, with help from the Regi Trio," he continued.

"Regi Trio?" Seymour asked, his voice barely a whisper now.

"Yep. Regirock, Regice, and Registeel," Austin said, listing them like he'd done a thousand times before. "And Regigigas, who's rumored to have moved continents. Then there's Mew, said to be the ancestor of all Pokémon."

Seymour's expression changed, and Austin could see something like a challenge flash across his eyes. "What proof do you have of any of this?" Seymour asked, and it wasn't just a question—it was a test. He was weighing Austin's claims against his own beliefs, trying to see if this kid was just repeating stories or if there was substance behind his words.

Austin felt a flicker of annoyance, and the urge to throw a question back at Seymour about his wild theories was almost overwhelming. What proof do you have of Clefairy coming from the Moon, huh? he thought, biting back the words. But he took a breath, forcing himself to think. Seymour wasn't just some guy with quirky ideas—he was someone deeply invested in his theories. He had a stake in them, a sense of self wrapped up in his beliefs. Disputing them outright would be like tearing a piece of himself away.

So, instead, Austin took a step back. "I don't know," he said, letting his voice drop slightly. "I heard it from some guy a long time ago. Then again, I'm not a scientist, so I'll leave the evidence-gathering to you all."

Seymour studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. There was no sense of victory in his expression, just a quiet acceptance. He wasn't looking for someone to shatter his worldview; he just wanted someone to listen. Maybe he wasn't as different from Austin as he thought.

"Fair enough," Seymour said quietly, his voice free from that usual sing-song rhythm.

Their sharp calls came simultaneously.

"Pika!"

"Eve!"

Austin's head snapped in the direction of their cries, and there it was—a Clefairy, just standing a short distance away. It was so cute seeing one up close. The pink, chubby creature looked straight out of a fairytale, with its star-shaped body and those delicate, almost childlike features. Its large, pointed ears twitched, and the small wings on its back fluttered nervously, like it was ready to bolt at the slightest disturbance.

"Seymour, close your eyes!" Austin barked, not sparing a second.

Clefairy turned to look at them, its eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and fear. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for what came next. Pikachu didn't need further instructions. His cheeks began to spark, the electric energy building up until—flash. A bright burst of light erupted, flooding the entire cavern in a blinding glow. Austin could see the flash through his closed eyelids, and a brief thought crossed his mind—that had to sting.

The Clefairy let out a startled squeal, blinded by Pikachu's improvised flashbang.

"Mud trap!" Austin called out.

Vee sprang into action, first kicking up a cloud of dirt with Sand Attack, then immediately following it up with a Water Pulse. Mud splashed over the Clefairy, disorienting it further as Vee darted forward and pinned the creature against the wall. Vee wasn't holding back; he had Clefairy pressed with enough force to keep it from struggling, but not enough to hurt it.

"Seymour, now!" Austin shouted, not daring to open his eyes fully yet.

He heard Seymour shuffle closer, but instead of moving to tag the Pokémon, he started murmuring something under his breath, his voice taking on this weird, reverent tone.

"O starry sprite of moonlit grace,

before thee now I bow my face.

In humble stance, I seek thy lore,

'neath lunar glow forevermore," he chanted.

Austin risked a glance, peeking through one eye, and saw Seymour… bowing? Hands making these weird gestures, his face a mix of awe and excitement.

What the hell is he doing?! Austin thought, feeling a surge of frustration.

"Tag it!" Austin nearly yelled, snapping Seymour out of his little trance.

"Oh, right!" Seymour muttered, fumbling with the tags as if he'd suddenly remembered what he was supposed to do. He reached into his bag, pulling out the tracking device—a small, delicate piece of tech that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. His hands shook slightly as he set it up, his fingers moving clumsily over the controls.

Why is he so slow with this? Austin thought, practically vibrating with impatience.

Just as Seymour got the tag ready, there was a shrill cry, and Vee was suddenly thrown backward by a barrage of pink circles—hearts? Clefairy must have used a move he didn't recognize. Vee skidded to a halt in front of him, steadying himself as the Clefairy wriggled free, looking ready to bolt.

Dammit. Plan B. Because of course, he always had a Plan B.

He reached into his bag and pulled out the Moon Stone he'd gotten from those prisoners earlier. It wasn't a big one, but it was genuine, and if his anime knowledge was right, this would catch the Clefairy's attention. He held it up, keeping his voice low and calm.

"You want this, right?" he said, keeping his voice steady, eyes locked on the Clefairy.

His mind raced, trying to piece together memories from the anime. He didn't remember every single plot point, but one thing stuck with him: the Clefairy of Mt. Moon gathering small Moon Stones and arranging them in a circle around the giant one. They treated it like some kind of ritual or tradition. It was a gamble, really—just a theory based on half-remembered episodes. But it was the only leverage he had in this situation, and that's why Plan B existed.

If this Clefairy didn't have a Moon Stone, offering it one might be the only way to earn its cooperation. And if it didn't work… well, he'd figure out something else. He always did.

The Clefairy's eyes flickered between him and the stone, its escape forgotten for the moment as it stared, almost entranced. Austin could see it weighing its options.

That's right, come on… just focus on the shiny rock.

He leaned down to Pikachu and whispered, "Pikachu, tell Clefairy he can have this Moon Stone if he takes us to the moon cave. And mention Bagboy, okay?" He didn't want Seymour hearing the last part, so he made sure to say it quietly.

Pikachu nodded, slipping away from him and starting to chatter to the Clefairy in that weird way Pokémon seemed to understand each other. Austin couldn't make out their conversation, but Clefairy's expression seemed to soften as it listened.

Seymour, oblivious to the low-key negotiation happening, asked, "But what about the tag?"

Austin held back an eye roll. "Well, don't you want to see the mothership?" he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

But then, he saw the look on Seymour's face—real, genuine longing. He wasn't joking. To him, this wasn't just some wild theory; it was something real, something he needed to see with his own eyes. For a second, Austin almost felt bad about the snark.

And then it hit him: the only reason Seymour was out here, risking his neck, was because he believed in this giant Moon Stone. He wanted to see it for himself, to prove he wasn't just another crazy man with wild ideas. Austin got that. Hell, in a way, it was a feeling he knew all too well.

Taking a breath, Austin shook his head, trying to refocus.

The Clefairy looked contemplative, its gaze shifting between the Moon Stone in his hand and Pikachu.

Vee had been a champ so far, so Austin handed him two berries and pointed toward the Clefairy. He took the hint, padding up to the pink Pokémon and offering one of the berries like a peace token. The Clefairy looked wary at first, but a few nods and gentle words from Pikachu seemed to ease its nerves. After a moment, Pikachu turned to Austin, giving him a little thumbs up. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Looks like we're good.

Then, something unexpected happened. The small wings on the Clefairy's back began to glow, almost like they were reflecting moonlight. But that wasn't all. Another source of light caught Austin's eye, as the Moon Stone in his backpack was shining brightly, resonating with the Clefairy's wings. Whoa…

"Fairy!" the Clefairy cried out. Without hesitation, Austin handed it over. The Clefairy clutched it tightly, and before he could react, it swallowed the Moon Stone in one swift gulp. His heart skipped a beat. Wait, was it supposed to do that?

But then the Clefairy's wings burst into light, a soft pink aura enveloping its whole body. The little Pokémon lifted off the ground, floating like it weighed nothing at all. Austin watched, awestruck, as it started to lead the way deeper into the cave, hovering gracefully. It wasn't long before Seymour and he followed, both of them a bit dumbstruck as they tried to keep up with the floating guide. It was like the lightness in the air seeped into them too, because even their steps felt lighter.

And that's when it hit Austin. The Clefairy tribe had remained hidden all this time because… they could fly. Not in the typical sense, like a Pidgey flapping its wings, but more like being lifted by some unseen force. They probably needed this ability to access the deeper, more secluded areas of their cave.

They arrived at the Clefairy tribe's cave, and at first glance, it looked like any other cave you'd stumble across on a hike—damp stone walls, the occasional stalactite, and a musty, earthy smell that clung to the air. But as they moved further in, it became clear that this place was anything but ordinary.

In the heart of the cave, a massive hole opened up in the ceiling, like a window carved by nature itself. Moonlight poured through, not in thin beams, but in a broad, glowing cascade, illuminating the cavern's center. It felt almost alive, the light breathing softly in time with the cave's heartbeat. There, in the middle of it all, stood a crystal.

It wasn't just any crystal—it was enormous, easily a dozen times Austin's height, with facets that gleamed like polished marble. It had this pale blue hue, almost milky in texture, but it seemed to catch the moonlight and bend it, refracting it into a million tiny shimmering fragments that danced across the walls. It looked ancient, like it had been growing here for centuries, absorbing the essence of every full moon it had ever seen. Around its base, smaller shards of the same crystal were scattered like fragments of some celestial event long forgotten.

The moonlight's reflection off the crystal created an almost magical aura, filling the air with a melodious hum, as if the stone itself was singing a lullaby.

All around the crystal, there were dozens of Clefairy, Cleffa, and Clefable. They were positioned in small groups, almost like families, their wings fluttering nervously as Austin and Seymour approached. Their eyes, wide and glinting in the moonlight, followed their every move. Austin felt the tension build, his shoulders tightening as he saw some of the older Clefable move into defensive stances. They're ready to protect their home. Can't say I blame them.

Austin glanced over at Seymour, who seemed just as awestruck by the sight. His eyes were practically glued to the giant crystal, and for a moment, Austin wondered if he even noticed the potential danger.

Thankfully, their Clefairy guide took the initiative. It floated forward, wings still glowing faintly, and began to talk to the other members of the tribe. Austin couldn't make out the words—it was more of a series of melodic hums and soft chirps—but he could feel the tension ease slightly as the others listened.

Suddenly, something tugged at Austin's pants leg. He looked down to find a tiny Cleffa. These small, pink Pokémon, star-shaped and endearing with their brown ears and stubby limbs, waddled close to his legs. Each Cleffa's cheeks were tinged with a permanent blush, their eyes bright and curious. As Austin offered them berries, they chirped and cooed delightfully, their tiny voices filled with joy as they accepted the treats.

One Cleffa, bouncing on its little feet, gave what Austin could only describe as a silent plea to dance. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. How could I say no to that?

"Come on, let's dance!" Austin said, turning to his Pokémon with a lively spark in his eyes.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Seymour's intense gaze. He didn't say anything, but the look he gave practically screamed, Don't mess this up, kid. But Austin was undeterred. If he'd learned one thing from Pokémon, it's that trust often comes from genuine connection.

He turned to Rattata with a teasing grin. "My bald lady, would you like to dance?"

Rattata, clearly not in the mood for such formalities, lightly tackled Austin to the ground. He laughed, sprawling on his back as the Cleffa swarmed around, looking worried. Austin picked up one of the little ones, tossing it gently into the air and catching it safely. The baby Pokémon giggled, and that was all the encouragement the others needed. Soon, more Cleffa were around him, each demanding their turn.

From a distance, Austin noticed an older Clefable watching the scene unfold. Her eyes were cautious, almost judging, but there was a glimmer of something else—curiosity? Maybe even acceptance. Pikachu caught his attention, using his usual charades to fill him in on the details.

Apparently, humans weren't usually allowed inside their sacred cave. It was forbidden. But they were making an exception for Austin because he'd helped fend off Team Rocket and saved their land. Plus, Clefairy had recognized him as the human who took a Moon Stone with good intentions. Looks like having that stone worked in my favor.

Austin kept playing with the Cleffa, and as time passed, the tension in the air began to fade.

Then, something magical started to happen. A circle of Clefairy gathered, their small wings catching the dim light of the cavern. They weren't just jumping around like the anime had shown; this was more like a ritual—every movement synchronized with the next, their wings fluttering in perfect unison. Each Clefairy moved gracefully, swaying in a rhythmic pattern that felt almost like a waltz. They'd step forward on the tips of their toes, their tiny feet barely touching the ground, then sway back and lift off, their wings creating delicate ripples of air. The moonlight seemed to cling to them, reflecting off their pink bodies in soft, silvery hues.

My god, the anime did this dirty, Austin thought, feeling a smile spread across his face. On TV, this scene had just been a bunch of Clefairy bouncing up and down. But seeing it in person, he could feel the intent behind each step, each wing beat.

As he watched, their bodies started to glow, that same pinkish aura enveloping them as they completed their dance. One by one, they began to evolve, their forms growing and shifting until they stood as Clefable. Each one seemed to hold a silent dignity as if this transformation was a fulfillment of a purpose known only to them.

This is it, Seymour thought, clenching his fists so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his palms. This is my chance to prove them all wrong.

Years of being dismissed and ridiculed as "Seymour the Crazy" weighed heavily on him. The whispers, the scoffs, the barely-hidden smirks—each one etched into his memory. But here, within these sacred tunnels, he had the opportunity to shatter those labels. I'm so close, he thought. Just a little more, and I'll have everything I need to show the truth about the Clefairy tribe.

Yet, there he was—this boy, playing casually with the Cleffas, losing focus. Seymour's heart pounded in his chest, urgency tightening around him like a vice. He needed the boy to take this seriously. Austin didn't realize the stakes. This wasn't just an adventure or some exciting story for his next battle—it was the culmination of Seymour's life's work. His validation. The key to escaping this suffocating label of being a fool chasing fairy tales.

"Boy, stop this at once!" he shouted, unable to keep the sharpness out of his voice. "Focus! There's more to do here!"

The words rang out louder than he intended, startling the Cleffas and causing Austin to turn with a deep frown, his expression shadowed in the dim light.

Before Seymour could recover or soften his tone, the cavern fell eerily silent. The Clefairy circle had stilled, all eyes drawn toward a single Clefairy that collapsed in the clearing. The Moon Stone's glow faded, and the soft crystalline hum that had filled the space came to an abrupt halt.

"Oh no," Austin muttered under his breath, concern crossing his face as he focused on the fallen Clefairy.

Seymour felt his breath catch in his throat, and every rational part of him screamed to stop, to reassess, but the pressure of the moment and the desperation to validate his theories kept driving him forward.

His voice quivered, almost in prayer, as he stepped forward, trying to appeal to the heavens or to whatever celestial beings might bear witness. "Oh great Clefairy Tribe, up high in your shuttle, reveal your craft, and end this confusion. Show the world the truth so vital, confirm a Clefairy's role is not just idle."

A part of him knew how he must have sounded—like a madman begging for proof. But it didn't matter. All the ridicule, all the whispers, the countless times he was humiliated... They would all end today. I'll make them see, he thought desperately.

Before he could say more, he felt a sharp, searing pain explode across his jaw. His head snapped to the side, and he stumbled backward, collapsing to the cold cave floor. The world spun, and it took him a moment to register what had happened. When he looked up, he saw Austin standing over him, fists clenched, his eyes burning with an intensity Seymour hadn't seen before.

"You don't have any shame, do you?" Austin snarled, voice thick with barely-contained fury.

His words cut deep, sharper than the blow to Seymour's face. He could feel the sting spreading from his jaw to the back of his head, his fingers trembling as he clutched the side of his face. Seymour had expected many things—disbelief, even more ridicule—but not this. Not an open display of rage at his expense.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How did it come to this? he thought, bewildered by how everything had spiraled so quickly.

"What?" Seymour managed to stammer.

Austin's frustration was like a physical force pressing down on him. His finger pointed sharply at the Clefairy, who was now surrounded by other Pokémon, trying to comfort it. "You don't get it, you idiot!" Austin snapped. "Because of your shouting, Clefairy couldn't finish evolving!"

The words hit Seymour like a punch to the gut. His voice caught in his throat, and he could barely form a coherent response. "I-I just wanted to see the space shuttle," he muttered, his voice weak and unconvincing even to himself. The truth was, all he could think about was validating his theories, proving that he wasn't just some delusional fool.

Austin's anger didn't subside; it only seemed to deepen. He squared up to Seymour, eyes boring into his with an intensity that made him want to shrink away. "What proof do you have that that—" Austin gestured aggressively toward the Moon Stone, "—is a freaking space shuttle?"

"I-I was… looking for proof," Seymour stammered again, his voice faltering under the weight of Austin's glare. Why can't I explain myself? he thought, a wave of panic rising in his chest. Everything was slipping away from him, everything he'd worked for.

"You're a pathetic loser... Calling yourself a scientist," Austin sneered, his words dripping with disdain. He gestured broadly around the cavern, his voice cutting through Seymour like a blade. "Look around you. There's such beauty, such culture, and so many questions that a real scientist would be asking. Why don't these Clefairy immediately evolve in the presence of the Moon Stone? Why do they dance? Why now? But for you, none of that matters as long as you get to chase some inkling of proof for your preconceived notions."

Each question Austin posed felt like a spotlight being shined on Seymour's ignorance. His face contorted involuntarily, and he could feel a mix of denial and guilt swelling within him. Why hadn't I thought of those questions? Why had he been so obsessed with the idea of a "space shuttle" that he'd overlooked everything else?

Austin's words struck harder than he could bear. "You aren't a scientist," Austin said, his voice quieter now but filled with an unyielding finality. "You're a fanatic."

The truth in Austin's words weighed on Seymour, pressing down like an unbearable burden. He wanted to deny it, to argue, to find some way to make the boy see that his theories weren't just fantasies. But as he looked at the Clefairy, still recovering from the disrupted dance, and at the Moon Stone that had lost its glow, he couldn't escape the stark reality.

Seymour felt his shoulders slump, the weight of his own foolishness crashing down on him. For so long, he had clung to his beliefs, thinking they would lead him to recognition and respect. But here, in the depths of Mt. Moon, he couldn't hide from the truth anymore. He wasn't a scientist; he was just a man chasing after shadows, blinded by his own desperation.

The realization was like a dagger twisting in his chest. He couldn't stay there, couldn't bear the look of contempt in Austin's eyes. He needed to escape. His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and he scampered ahead, trying to put distance between them. His movements were clumsy, frantic, but he didn't care. All he knew was that he had to get away—from Austin, from the Pokémon, from this crushing sense of failure that threatened to consume him.

I just wanted them to see... to understand, he thought, tears blurring his vision as he ran blindly through the tunnel.

Seymour felt like a cornered animal, all too aware of the sneers and whispers waiting for him back in Pewter City—Seymour the Crazy, Seymour the Fool. Then a sharp, high-pitched sound cut through his spiraling thoughts. The air shimmered with sparkling energy as Pikachu's Swift attack embedded stars in the ground in front of him, effectively blocking his way. He stopped dead, breathing hard, his face hot with a mix of frustration, shame, and exhaustion.

"Where are you running off to, you idiot?" Austin's voice came again, cold and cutting. "Can't handle being wrong?"

Seymour wheeled around, his body trembling, and before he could stop himself, the words came pouring out. "I can't be wrong, not about this! My entire career, my beliefs—they hinge on this truth!" His voice echoed in the cavern, and he hated how small and desperate it sounded. Everything hinges on this, he thought, as if saying it louder would make it real.

He expected the boy to snap back, to berate him again. But instead, Austin sighed—a deep, heavy sigh that seemed to fill the cavern with its weight. He took a step forward, his voice softer now, almost gentle

"My father once told me that there's no shame in being wrong, but there is shame in staying wrong," he said. "So what if your theories were off? Look," he gestured toward the Clefairy tribe, who were huddled together, watching them with cautious eyes. "You have an entire different avenue to explore here."

Seymour followed his gaze, and the realization of what he had done hit him like a tidal wave. The Clefairy were still reeling from the disrupted ritual, and it was his fault. He had wanted so desperately to prove something that he hadn't even considered the consequences for them. I've wronged them, he thought, the shame settling like a heavy stone in his chest. His legs buckled, and he sank to his knees, the weight of it all too much to bear. I'm nothing but a fool—a reckless fool.

"But I have wronged them," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," Austin replied, his voice steady and sincere, "but that doesn't mean you can't make things right." He reached out a hand, and Seymour looked up to see a different expression in the boy's eyes—one not of anger, but of understanding. "I'm going to need the help of Seymour the scientist, not Seymour the Crazy. How can we help the Clefairy evolve?"

Seymour stared at the outstretched hand, feeling a flicker of something that had long been buried—hope. His fingers trembled as he wiped away the tears that had blurred his vision, the shame still lingering but slowly giving way to something else: resolve. You have a chance to fix this, Seymour. Don't waste it.

He took Austin's hand, feeling the firm grip as the boy helped him to his feet. He's just a kid, really, Seymour thought, but in this moment, he seems far wiser than his years. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice.

"Let's get to work then," Seymour said, his words steady despite the turmoil still churning inside him.

"Pokémon evolution," Seymour began, adjusting his glasses. "It's typically driven by a specific trigger—a catalyst that releases an instinctual aura within their bodies, causing a transformation."

He glanced at Austin, who was listening intently, his arms crossed but eyes sharp with curiosity. Good, he thought, relieved the boy hadn't checked out of this conversation yet. "For most Clefairy, that trigger is a Moon Stone," he continued, "but the Clefairy tribe here in Mt. Moon is different. Over time, their evolutionary trigger has shifted from the stone itself to something far more unique—environmental factors." He paused, waiting for Austin's reaction.

"What kind of factors?" the boy asked.

"Here, it involves the sound created when moonlight interacts with a large Moon Stone crystal during a full moon," Seymour explained, bracing himself for more questions.

Austin didn't disappoint. "Sound from moonlight? How does that work?"

Seymour felt a flicker of gratitude for the question—this was familiar territory, something rooted in actual science. "It's similar to a concept known as sonoluminescence," he said, trying to keep his excitement in check. "That's when sound waves in a liquid create bursts of light. Here, under specific conditions of the full moon, the Moon Stone generates sound waves that resonate at a frequency I believe could trigger the Clefairy's evolution. Their biology has adapted to this unique harmonic."

Austin nodded thoughtfully. "So, what's the plan?"

Seymour took a steadying breath. The plan was simple in theory, but execution would be everything. "We need to refract moonlight onto the giant Moon Stone using Pikachu's and Rattata's Iron Tail moves. The light should trigger the resonance we need," he explained, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.

Austin's expression shifted from curiosity to amazement as Seymour laid out the specifics, his eyes widening as he processed what the scientist was suggesting. But then Seymour saw a flicker of hesitation and knew he had to keep the boy focused. "Hey," he said firmly, "stay with me."

Austin nodded, jaw clenched with determination as he positioned Pikachu and Rattata as instructed. Seymour's hands trembled as he double-checked the calculations, the angles, and the timing. Everything has to be perfect. He could feel the sweat gathering on his brow as he adjusted their positions, trying to control his breathing.

"Okay," Seymour said, his voice barely a whisper. "Now."

The two Pokémon reflected the moonlight with their Iron Tail attacks, and Seymour held his breath as a beam of moonlight refracted off them and struck the Moon Stone at the calculated angle. He felt the tension release from his chest in a rush, and for the briefest of moments, everything seemed to hold still, suspended in expectation.

Then, it happened. The Moon Stone absorbed the light and began to emit a soft, melodic tone—a perfect harmony that filled the cavern. The sound resonated deep within Seymour, almost like a physical presence, and he could see it in the Clefairy too. They started to react, their small bodies lifting off the ground, carried by the sound as if they were weightless. Seymour watched, his breath catching as one of the Clefairy began to twirl in the air, a soft pink aura enveloping it.

The transformation was gradual yet mesmerizing. The fairy Pokémon's silhouette shimmered in the magical light, growing taller, more elegant. Seymour couldn't look away. All his doubts, his fears—everything melted into that moment, into the graceful dance of light and evolution.

"Clefable," Austin whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking any louder would break the spell.

Seymour turned to Austin, the lingering adrenaline making his hands shake. "Do you have a spare PokéBall? I promise I'll pay you back."

Without missing a beat, the boy reached into his bag and handed Seymour a PokéBall. He didn't ask questions, didn't hesitate. Just… trusted him. Seymour nodded, trying to express his gratitude without words, and turned back toward the Clefable and its tribe, the smooth, cold surface of the PokéBall pressing into his palm like a lifeline.

His heart felt like it was pounding in his ears. As he approached, the Clefable watched him closely, their tribe huddled protectively around them. Seymour swallowed hard, pushing down the impulse to retreat into the safety of his usual rhymes. This wasn't the time for hiding behind words.

"When I was a little boy," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "my grandmother used to tell me stories of a Clefairy godmother who would grant the wishes of good children." The memories felt almost foreign to him now, like they belonged to someone else, some other life. "I was always enchanted by Clefairy," he continued, willing his voice to stay steady. "It hurt to see how they were dismissed by most trainers, mocked as 'fake fairies' just because of their normal typing."

He paused, bowing deeply to the tribe, feeling the weight of the moment press heavily on his back. "I vowed to reveal their true significance to the world," he confessed, "but I realize now that my methods may have been… misguided."

When Seymour straightened up, the Clefable who had led them to this sacred spot walked forward, a soft smile crossing its face. It seemed to understand him, or at least his intent. His heart raced with a desperate hope as he extended the PokéBall toward it. "Would you help me show the world how incredible Clefairy can be?" he asked.

Clefable's eyes shimmered, and suddenly, a glowing orb of light formed between its hands. Then, the rest of the tribe joined in, each Clefairy conjuring a similar sphere of light. The entire cavern came alive, the air filling with these shimmering orbs that pulsed gently, as if with their own heartbeat. Seymour felt like he was standing within a living, breathing dream—one that might slip away if he even dared to blink.

Austin stood beside him, eyes wide with awe. "What move is this?" the boy murmured.

Pikachu sniffed cautiously at the glowing spheres, curious yet wary, while Rattata seemed torn between fascination and an impulse to jump up and pop them. Vee, though, remained perfectly still, his gaze almost reverent as if he sensed something in the orbs beyond their physical glow. A shift in their aura—something new, something different.

The move was unmistakable: Moonblast—a Fairy-type move. A type that wasn't known in this region—couldn't be found anywhere on this continent at all.

Seymour's mind raced, piecing together fragments of knowledge and observation until a new, groundbreaking hypothesis took shape. The Clefairy of Mt. Moon had evolved beyond their normal classification. These Clefairy—these Clefable—were true fairies, not just Normal-types. The realization washed over him like a wave, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

He was so lost in the spectacle that the soft sound of a 'cling' startled him. He glanced down, and his breath caught in his throat. Clefable had touched the PokéBall, accepting him. The orbs around them began to burst, one by one, into a glittering shower of light. It was like watching the stars themselves explode in celebration.

"I can prove to the world that Kanto's Clefairy are true fairies," he murmured, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Not just Normal-types."

The 'ting' of the PokéBall locked in the moment of acceptance, and suddenly, cheers erupted around him.

Austin turned to Seymour, his face still showing a mixture of confusion and awe. "What's a Fairy type?"

Fairy types... a Pokémon type immune to dragon attacks. A type not native to the Japanese continent, only found in regions like Kalos, Alola, and Galar.

Austin had repeated this to himself a hundred times by now. But he had to. He had to remind himself that, despite knowing so much about this world, there were still so many unknowns. So many things he didn't know and couldn't predict. And that made everything feel... real.

He didn't know Ash's story after Unova, didn't know what happened to him in Kalos or beyond. Frankly, he hoped it was better than whatever mess Unova's anime was, but it didn't matter.

"Seymour, calm down," Austin said, his voice sharper than he intended.

Seymour was pacing like a Meowth chasing its tail, his nerves frayed as they discussed the situation at hand. And yeah, Austin got it. This was a big deal—a fairy-type Clefairy tribe. Something that could change the landscape of how people thought about Pokémon in Kanto... or maybe even the entire continent.

But the problem was bigger than that. People. Poachers. Scumbags who would do anything to get their hands on something rare, something valuable. The moment the world found out about this tribe, it would be chaos. These Clefairy would be hunted, captured, and sold to the highest bidder. And knowing that made Austin's stomach churn.

Seymour wanted to keep them a secret, to let the Clefairy tribe live in peace, hidden from the world. And for a second, Austin understood where Seymour was coming from. But then reality slapped him in the face. Secrets never stay secrets forever.

"We can't hide them forever, Seymour," Austin said, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the man. "It's only a matter of time before someone stumbles onto them. And if we're not prepared... well, we both know what'll happen."

Seymour stopped pacing and looked at him, eyes wide with worry. Austin could see it—the doubt, the fear of what might happen if they made the wrong choice. But Austin had already made up his mind.

"Look, we need Professor Oak. We need the Pokémon League. If they know about this, they can protect the Clefairy. Set up a reserve, maybe even a research facility. We can control how this gets out and make sure these Pokémon are safe."

Seymour hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip, but eventually nodded. He knew the boy was right, even if he didn't like it.

Seymour handed Austin his Pokétch, and Austin dialed Professor Oak's number. His fingers felt stiff, like they didn't want to move, but he forced them to. The phone rang, and Austin felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his chest.

"Hello, who is this?" came the familiar, warm voice of Professor Oak, cutting through Austin's spiraling thoughts.

Seymour practically squealed beside him. "Hey there, Professor, it's me," Austin said, trying to keep his voice steady, casual. But he could feel Pikachu's eyes on him, sensing his tension as it gave a quiet, "Pika," at his feet.

"Oh, my boy, where are you calling from?"

"I'm calling using a friend's Pokétch from Mt. Moon," Austin said, trying to keep things casual as Pikachu tried to let out another cry. He gently bonked him on the head, causing him to settle down, though Pikachu pouted a bit.

"Mt. Moon?" Professor Oak asked, sounding intrigued. "I guess you were in a hurry, huh? I'm sure Daisy will miss you."

Austin felt his face heat up, trying to fight back the embarrassment as memories of his failed attempt to shoot his shot with Daisy flooded back. Why did he even try? Sure, she was pretty—no, beautiful—and for a moment, he thought, why not see what happens? But then he remembered, I'm stuck in the body of a 10-year-old kid. Hormones didn't really mess him up too much yet, but it was bad because Daisy only saw him as a younger brother. He must've looked like an idiot in front of her family. Ugh.

Austin cleared his throat, trying to play it off. "Why, is she jealous she can't be on this awesome journey?" He forced a chuckle, doing his best to sound oblivious. Anything to keep the Professor from reminding him of what he'd lost... if only I were older.

Professor Oak laughed softly but relented. "Never mind, my boy," he conceded. "What can I do for you?"

"Seymour," Austin said, nodding toward the young scientist, who looked like he was about to faint from nerves. "Do it for the Clefairies," he encouraged, adding quickly, "And no rhymes, please."

Seymour nodded back, taking a deep breath before launching into a long, drawn-out explanation to Professor Oak. It turned into an hour-long discussion between the two of them, most of which went completely over Austin's head. Something about Clefairy habitat preservation, their evolutionary significance, and… he didn't know what else.

While they talked, Austin decided to do something more productive. He made his way over to the fairy tribe, who were beginning to settle down for the night. The soft moonlight bathed the area, casting a calm glow over the scene. One by one, the Cleffas curled up into little pink balls, their tiny limbs tucked beneath their bodies as they huddled close to each other. Their ears twitched, and their small, round bodies shifted slightly as they let out little murmurs of contentment, the soft hum of their breathing filling the air. It was peaceful. If only life could always be this calm, he thought as he watched them.

He smiled, feeling the weight of the day start to settle on his own shoulders. "Let's just go to sleep, everyone," he said quietly to himself, glancing down at his own team. It was time to tuck them in, too.

First, he scooped up his Rattata—his hairless Rattata, her smooth, furless skin cool against his hands. She yawned, revealing her tiny, sharp teeth, before curling up in the crook of his arm. She was always the first to doze off, her little body going limp almost instantly as he placed her into her bed. He gently adjusted her so she was curled up in a ball, her pink tail wrapping around her body like a snug blanket. Her little nose twitched, and she let out a soft, satisfied squeak. Austin smiled. Rattata always slept like a small bundle of quiet energy, like a coiled spring finally at rest, waiting for the next adventure.

Next was Vee. He was a little more restless, always needing to do a few circles before he found just the right spot to settle. Austin watched as he turned and turned, his fluffy tail swishing behind him before he finally flopped down with a soft huff. His ears perked up for a moment, checking for any last-minute sounds, but as the night grew quieter, he relaxed, his head resting on his paws. Vee's fur shimmered slightly in the moonlight, soft and warm, like a fox finding the perfect nook to curl into for the night. Austin reached out and gently stroked his head, feeling his body relax further under his touch. Vee gave a quiet little yip before closing his eyes.

Finally, there was Pikachu. He was the hardest to settle, still buzzing with energy even after a long day. "Come on, buddy," Austin whispered, coaxing him over. Pikachu hopped into his arms and nuzzled against his chest, letting out a soft "Pika" as he yawned. Austin placed him down gently beside Vee, but not before Pikachu rolled onto his back, his little paws twitching in the air as he tried to get comfortable. Typical Pikachu—he never slept in the same position twice. Austin laughed softly as Pikachu eventually turned onto his side, his tail wrapping around him like a blanket. His soft snores were barely audible, but they brought a sense of calm that Austin didn't know he needed. Pikachu looked so peaceful, like a tiny ball of yellow fluff, safe and secure.

As Austin finished tucking in Pikachu, Vee, and Rattata, he felt a light tap on his shoulder that nearly made him jump. He turned to see Seymour standing there, holding out his Pokétch.

"It's the professor," Seymour said quietly, handing it over.

Austin nodded and took a few steps away from the group to talk, with Seymour trailing beside him.

"Yes, Professor?" Austin asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"My boy, I have to say, I never expected to hear this news," Professor Oak's voice came through the line, sounding as surprised as Austin had felt when he first learned about the fairy-type Clefairy tribe.

"Same here, Professor," Austin said, glancing at Seymour. "But I was hoping you could help Seymour with this. It's a bit out of my league."

"Of course, of course," Professor Oak replied quickly. "This is a monumental discovery, one that could cause quite a bit of chaos, not just from poachers but from regular trainers. Many would want to catch such an incredibly rare fairy type, and that could lead to problems."

That thought hadn't even crossed Austin's mind. Naturally, trainers would go wild over a new fairy-type Pokémon. The Clefairy tribe could easily be swarmed, not just by dangerous poachers but even by well-meaning trainers who wouldn't understand the harm they could cause.

"My boy," Oak continued, "have you caught a fairy-type Clefairy, or do you plan to?"

"No to both," Austin answered quickly, not wanting any misunderstandings. Seymour shot him a surprised look, and he could hear the shock in Professor Oak's voice too as the professor responded.

"I thought you'd jump at the opportunity to catch such a rare Pokémon."

"Normally, yeah, I probably would have," Austin admitted. "But there are reasons why I'm holding off. First, the food needed to raise a fairy type is more expensive and harder to find, and I don't want to risk someone finding out I've caught one. That would just bring attention to the fairy-type Clefairy tribe. And besides... I don't need another fairy type."

"Another fairy type?" both Professor Oak and Seymour asked, clearly confused.

"Yeah," Austin said, realizing he hadn't explained. "Seymour mentioned that there's a fairy-type Eeveelution, so I'm not worried about catching another fairy type right now."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Austin could hear them both mutter, "Eeveelution?" as if the term was foreign. It suddenly dawned on him that the term Eeveelution, something so common among Pokémon fans in his world, wasn't used in this one.

"That's a great term!" Professor Oak exclaimed, sounding genuinely impressed. "I might just start using that myself."

Austin couldn't help but smile, even though he was still feeling a bit awkward. "So, uh, what's the plan, Professor?"

"The plan is simple, but it's going to take some time and cooperation," Professor Oak explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "We'll need to involve the Pokémon League to set up a research facility here in Mt. Moon. Once the facility is established, the League would close off the Mt. Moon tunnels to prevent any disturbances. This will protect the Clefairy tribe while the researchers conduct studies on both the fairy-type and normal-type Clefairy populations."

He paused for a moment, letting the plan sink in. "The research will focus on understanding the differences between the two types and their interactions. The goal would be to introduce fairy-type Clefairy to normal-type Clefairy habitats once we've learned enough. If the introduction goes smoothly, we could potentially introduce fairy types into the broader Kanto region. That would allow for the natural spread of fairy types across Kanto without disrupting the native Pokémon ecosystem too much."

Austin took a deep breath, processing the plan. "Great," he said, though a bit confused about why he needed to hear all this.

"Do I need to do anything?" Austin asked, not really sure what his role was supposed to be in all of this.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that your monthly stipend will be increased to 15k," Professor Oak said. Seymour gave a light clap, his excitement evident.

Austin blinked. "Oh, thank you, Professor, but... why?" he asked, genuinely curious. It seemed a bit too generous, even for helping with the whole fairy-type Clefairy situation.

"This discovery is going to bring so much prestige to the lab," Professor Oak replied, though something about the way he said it didn't sit right with Austin. It wasn't the words themselves, but the way Oak's voice carried a certain eagerness. Almost like he was more interested in the fame than the actual research.

"Isn't this Seymour's discovery?" Austin asked, glancing over at Seymour, who was practically beaming with pride.

"Yes, you are looking at Oak Lab's newest member and the head of the Clefairy research team," Seymour puffed out his chest, clearly thrilled at the prospect. He didn't seem to care much about anything other than the fact that the Clefairy would be safe.

Austin hummed thoughtfully, watching the interaction unfold. Looks like Oak is a bit more... shrewd in this world. He wasn't naive. Absorbing Seymour into the lab and taking credit for the Clefairy discovery? It was smart, and he had to give Oak credit for that. The prestige would come rolling in, and Oak would be at the center of it all, wrapped up neatly in a bow.

Not that Seymour seemed to mind. He was just happy that the Clefairy tribe would be protected. And honestly? Austin didn't care that much either. The Clefairies would be safe, and that was what mattered most. Plus, he was still getting a bigger stipend, so there wasn't much to complain about.

But there was still one thing Austin couldn't let slide. "About the stipend," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He knew Oak wasn't stupid. The professor understood that Ash Ketchum was tied to a lot of important events, especially with the whole Celebi situation. There was no way Oak didn't see the potential in keeping Austin happy, and he was going to take full advantage of that.

"If this is going to be a huge discovery," Austin continued, "why not make it an even 20k? I mean, with everything going on, I'm sure the extra support would help me stay on top of things."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Austin knew Oak was considering it. Come on, old man, he thought. You know it's worth it. Determined to make this raise happen, he waited, confident that he could convince Oak to bump it up to 20k if it was the last thing he did.

Vee was in a field. Soft grass beneath his paws, the scent of flowers filling the air, and sunlight warm on his fur. It was peaceful—too peaceful. He could see his human, laughing with the others, his face relaxed, his guard down. The other Pokémon were playing, darting through the meadow without a care in the world. It was the kind of life Vee always imagined. This... this is perfect.

But the warmth started to fade. The field dimmed, the light twisting into shadows, and the air turned cold—so cold it bit through his fur and into his bones. His legs felt heavy, like they were sinking into the ground. He tried to move, but he couldn't. His paws were stuck, frozen in place. Something was wrong. His heart pounded in his chest, panic rising like a tidal wave. No, not here. Not again.

Vee blinked, and the field disappeared. The flowers, the sunlight, the laughter—all gone. His eyes opened to harsh, sterile lights glaring down at him. His body was strapped down, his legs locked tight by cold metal restraints. A muzzle clamped over his snout, muffling his whimpers and growls. No... no, please, not here!

He thrashed against the restraints, trying to break free, but it was no use. The lab—their lab—surrounded him, the same cold, unforgiving place he had barely escaped from before. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat feeling like it was trying to burst free. He could hear them—those scientists—moving around him, their voices low and mechanical. They didn't care. They never did.

Then he saw them. His friends. They were all there, strapped down like him, helpless. No, no, no! His mind screamed, but his voice couldn't follow. The muzzle kept him silent. His eyes darted around, desperate for a way out, for something to break free, but all he saw were their faces—blank behind their masks. Cold. Empty.

"This is what you get for escaping Team Rocket," a scientist's voice echoed through the room, sharp and cruel. Vee saw the syringe in his hand. He saw it pierce Austin's skin. His scream—oh, Gods, his scream!—it tore through Vee, shaking him to his core.

He roared, or at least he tried. His voice was nothing but a muffled growl as he thrashed, harder now, pulling at the restraints until they cut into his skin. I have to save them! I have to get out! But the more he struggled, the tighter the bonds became, suffocating him, trapping him.

Helpless. Powerless. The words buzzed in his head, louder than the scientists, louder than Austin's cries. I can't protect him... I can't protect any of them.

Something ignited inside him, burning hotter than the sterile light. Anger. Rage. It twisted through him, filling the void of helplessness with something primal, something fierce. He could feel it coming—the familiar piercing light of evolution.

Vee trembled as the weight of it all crashed down on him again. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision as the memories clawed at him. He knew exactly what was happening—he'd seen it before, felt it before.

I'm a target. We're all targets because of this... His chest tightened, the fear gnawing at him like it always did. The faces of the other Eevees flashed in his mind—dozens of them. They didn't make it. He did. And every time he closed his eyes, he saw them fall, one by one, while he lived.

Vee hated it. Hated this evolution that marked him.

The pain hit him, sudden and overwhelming, like it always did. No matter how many times he'd felt it before, it never got easier. Every time felt like the first, like his body was being torn apart, shredded piece by piece. His muscles burned, his skin seared. He could feel his cells ripping themselves apart, only to be stitched back together in some twisted, agonizing process.

The pain—it was unbearable. It was as if molten lava was being poured over his body, burning every inch, every nerve, every muscle. The heat crawled through him, setting his bones on fire, searing him from the inside out. He wanted to scream, to cry, to make it stop, but all he could do was endure it.

The light swallowed him, every part of him dissolving into the heat, into the pain. He couldn't hold on anymore. Everything was slipping away—his human, his friends, his body. All of it was dissolving, and he was helpless to stop it.

Please, make it stop...

But there was no stopping. Only the endless, burning pain of being torn apart.

Vee jolted awake from the nightmare, his heart racing, paws trembling. The cold sweat that clung to his fur felt all too real, as if the molten pain from his dream still lingered. His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as his surroundings came into focus. He wasn't in the sterile lab, bound by cold restraints. He was in the Moonstone Cave, where the cool air smelled of damp earth, and the faint glow of crystals dotted the walls. Why now? he wondered, shaking his head. Why am I still afraid when I'm safe?

For a moment, he allowed himself to just breathe, grateful that his internal turmoil hadn't disturbed the others. He didn't want to worry them, especially Austin.

"You okay?" a voice cut through the stillness, startling Vee. He froze, his ears twitching as he turned toward the source. It was Austin, wide awake, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the cave. Why is he awake?

Vee's eyes locked with his trainer's, silently asking the question.

"Couldn't exactly sleep," Austin explained, offering a tired but warm smile.

The boy patted his lap, an invitation that Vee didn't need to think twice about. He padded over, curling up in his trainer's lap, feeling the familiar warmth of Austin's body against his fur. The boy began to gently scratch behind his ear, and Vee closed his eyes, the tension in his body slowly easing. The soft strokes felt like silk brushing against his fur, calming him with every touch.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

Vee hesitated. He trusted Austin, more than anyone, but the weight of his fears, the memories of the lab, still hung heavy over him. Was it worth bringing up?

They sat in silence for a moment.

Then, in a tender gesture, Austin leaned down and kissed the top of Vee's head. "I'm here for you, Vee. Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

That was all Vee needed. He began to move, crouching low as if hiding. His body tensed, mimicking the feeling of being bound. Then, in a sudden burst, he jumped up, paws spreading out as if mimicking an explosion. He looked at Austin expectantly.

Austin tilted his head, thinking. "Something scary? An attack?"

Vee nodded vigorously and continued his performance. He exaggerated his movements, tiptoeing around Austin as if sneaking, his eyes darting from side to side. Then, he froze, pointing at an invisible object in front of him before quickly recoiling, as if whatever he saw terrified him.

Austin's face softened as he pieced it together. "Is this about Team Rocket? Were you having nightmares about them?"

Vee let out a soft "Eevee!" nodding again, this time more urgently. He could feel the panic bubbling back up, the weight of the fear pressing against his chest.

Without a word, the boy reached out, pulling Vee into a gentle embrace. The warmth of his arms, the steady beat of his heart, it was all the comfort Vee needed in that moment.

"It's okay, buddy. They're not here. You're safe with me," Austin whispered, his voice firm but soothing.

Vee snuggled closer, feeling the protective warmth of his trainer, his body slowly relaxing, the edge of fear dulling.

"Do you know what's causing these nightmares?" Austin asked, his fingers still gently brushing through Vee's fur.

The evolution Pokémon shook his head, his ears drooping slightly. He pawed at the ground, then pointed towards his head, shaking his body as if to say the nightmares were confusing, chaotic, and hard to explain. Austin watched closely, trying to figure out what was going on in his Pokémon's mind. The helplessness in Vee's eyes tugged at his heart.

Austin remembered something his therapist had used with him—an approach that helped him process difficult memories by drawing parallels between his emotions and past situations. Maybe that could help Vee too, he thought. He wanted to show his Pokémon that they weren't alone in feeling scared.

"Do you remember when we were in Viridian Forest, and we met Sird?" Austin's voice wavered, discomfort creeping in as the memory of that day resurfaced. Vee nuzzled closer to him, offering silent comfort with his presence.

"I try not to show it," Austin continued, his voice growing softer, "but that day... when those Beedrills were killed... it really messed me up." He paused, the weight of the memory heavy on his chest. "I've had nightmares about it too. Sometimes, I stay up late, reading book after book, just to be too tired to dream when I finally fall asleep."

Vee, sensing his trainer's vulnerability, gently placed a paw on Austin's hand. Austin smiled weakly, grateful for the simple gesture, and gave Vee's paw a gentle squeeze in return.

Vee hopped to the side, mimicking walking over an imaginary obstacle. Then, he pointed to his heart and raised his paws, looking at Austin expectantly. The silent question was clear: How did you get over it?

The boy sighed softly, his eyes softening. "I didn't really get over it, Vee," he admitted. "I just accepted that I was scared of Team Rocket, scared of what they could do to us, afraid of seeing us hurt or worse—like what happened to those Beedrills. And... feeling paranoid, scared, that's all part of it. And that's okay."

Vee tilted his head, clearly confused. How could being scared be okay?

"Being scared keeps us on our toes, buddy," Austin explained, his voice steady. "It's why we're still here, and why we're still alive. Fear makes us careful."

Vee pondered the idea, his big eyes reflecting his deep thinking. After a moment, he slowly nodded, the concept beginning to make sense. He gave Austin's knee a gentle bump with his head.

Vee paced a little, then acted out another scene: he pretended to sleep peacefully, then jolted awake suddenly, clutching at his chest as if scared. His eyes locked onto Austin's with a worried look.

"What about the nightmares?" Austin asked, recognizing the question in Vee's performance. "Are you asking if I still have them?"

Vee nodded.

Austin leaned back slightly, thinking. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Not as much after we defeated Ariana, but they come and go."

Vee continued his act, mimicking the fear and struggle in his sleep before pointing to himself and shaking, a clear display of how much the nightmares still haunted him.

Austin's brow furrowed with concern. "I don't know why they're happening so much now," he said softly. "But I think we can get help for that. When we get to Cerulean City, let's look for a doctor who might know how to deal with this. We can talk to someone who understands what you're going through."

He knew that finding a therapist for Vee would probably be the best way to deal with the nightmares. Something had triggered them recently, and he didn't want Vee to keep suffering in silence.

Vee shook his head vigorously, his expression clouded with guilt. He mimed an action of shielding others, then pointed at himself, his body language heavy with the weight of self-blame.

"Vee," Austin said softly, sensing the depth of his Pokémon's distress. "It's not your fault what happened on Mt. Moon. The things Ariana and Team Rocket did—they're responsible for their actions, not you."

Vee still looked troubled, his gaze downcast. Austin wasn't going to let him feel guilty for something beyond his control.

"I know it's hard," he continued, his voice steady. "Watching others get hurt... it makes you feel like you should've done something, like you could've stopped it. But you did everything you could. We both did. Blaming yourself for the actions of people who want to cause harm is like trying to stop a thunderstorm with your mind. It's out of our hands, buddy."

Vee shifted, his ears twitching as he absorbed the words, but the guilt still clung to him.

"And about people," Austin said, his tone hopeful now. "Not everyone's like Team Rocket. There are so many good people out there, people who want to help, people who do good." He paused, trying to instill a sense of hope in Vee. "It's smart to be cautious, but don't let fear keep you from seeing the good in others. Not all humans are bad. Some are kind, caring, and they fight against evil just like we do."

Reaching out, Austin gently placed his hand on Vee's head, stroking the soft fur between his ears. Now came the next hurdle: addressing Vee's fear of being found by Team Rocket.

"Team Rocket will never be able to find us, Vee."

Vee's posture shifted, skepticism and doubt clear in his eyes. How could Austin possibly know that?

Anticipating the silent question, Austin reached for his backpack and pulled out a map of the Kanto region, spreading it out in front of them.

"Look here, Vee. Back in Viridian Forest, we had no choice but to keep going forward, so Team Rocket did what they had to do. But look at all these paths now." He pointed to the many routes leading away from Cerulean City. "After Mt. Moon, we have endless choices. We've been careful, always covering our tracks. The chances of running into them again? Incredibly slim."

Austin met Vee's gaze, his tone calm and reassuring.

"If any problems come up, we'll deal with them. We're safe right now, and we're in this together."

As Vee listened, the tension began to ease from his small form. He seemed to accept Austin's words, but Austin knew there was one more thing left to address: Vee's guilt. Austin leaned forward slightly. "And Vee, we're a team, right?"

Vee nodded, his big eyes looking up at Austin with uncertainty.

"We fight for each other. Rattata, Pikachu, Spearow—they all took those risks because they knew it was necessary. And trust me, every one of us would do it again in a heartbeat."

Vee's eyes shimmered with emotion, as if asking, Why?

Austin smiled softly, wiping the beginning of tears from Vee's eyes.

"Because that's what teams do. We support each other, no matter what." He chuckled lightly, adding, "Besides, look at the bright side—Spearow's on his way to becoming an Alpha Pokémon, Rattata's got a shiny new coat, and Pikachu? He scored a lifetime supply of ketchup packets."

That last comment brought a small smile to Vee's face. "As I said before, don't feel guilty for what others choose to do... ever." Austin leaned forward and kissed Vee's forehead gently, a comforting gesture. "Okay?"

"Eevee!" Vee chirped, a note of agreement in his voice.

Austin smiled as he settled back into his sleeping bag. Vee curled up on his chest, his small body finding comfort in the steady rhythm of Austin's heartbeat. Together, they looked up at the vast expanse of the night sky.

The stars twinkled like scattered diamonds against the deep velvet of space, each one a silent sentinel watching over the world below. Austin lay back, his eyes tracing the night sky as he pointed upwards, outlining the constellations with his finger.

"Vee, see that cluster there? That's called Cassiopeia. It kind of looks like a W or an M, depending on how you see it," he explained softly, his voice a gentle murmur that blended with the night's stillness. Vee chirped in response, his tone soft and thoughtful. Whether he understood the words or simply found comfort in the sound of his trainer's voice, Austin couldn't tell, but it didn't matter. It was the shared moment of calm, the quiet bond between them, that felt important.

Austin's mind wandered for a moment. I wonder what the names of the constellations are in this world.

He had spent so much time in Kanto, but the familiarity of Earth still tugged at him.

Just then, he felt Vee's small paw gently touch his chin, pulling him back to the present. Vee pointed at himself and then mimicked the action of speaking or calling out a name. The question was clear—Why do I have a nickname when the others don't?

Austin blinked, surprised by the curiosity in Vee's gesture. He hadn't really thought much about it before. Nicknaming Pokémon wasn't usually his thing. Whenever he read Pokémon fanfics, the various nicknames for each Pokémon always seemed to add unnecessary confusion, so he had avoided them in real life too.

But Vee was different. Vee was special. From the moment they met, it had been instinctual for Austin to call him by the nickname. It wasn't just a random name—it came from the Pokémon manga, from Red's own Eevee. It was nostalgia, sure, but also affection.

Austin chuckled softly. Can't go back now, I'm in too deep, he thought with a smile. Reaching out, he playfully booped Vee's nose, feeling a warmth in the simple, silly act. "That's because you're a special Eevee, and someone special needs a special name," Austin said, his voice teasing but full of sincerity. "But don't tell the others, okay?"

Vee nodded, a flicker of pride in his eyes, though his bashful expression showed he wasn't quite sure how to respond to the compliment. After a brief moment, he turned his gaze back to the moon, now a bright sentinel in the dark sky, standing watch over them like one of the stars themselves.

Austin watched his Pokémon for a moment, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him. In this quiet space, with Vee on his chest and the stars above, the world felt calm, the worries of the past and future distant, as if nothing else mattered except the bond they shared. He closed his eyes, breathing in the cool night air, allowing himself to relax in the comforting presence of his Pokémon, and in the simplicity of this moment.

Meanwhile, Vee gazed up at the moon, his thoughts beginning to drift, taking him deeper into his own reflections. For so long, he had feared the shadows—every dark corner felt like a place for danger to hide, a threat waiting to strike, like Team Rocket. He had always been alert, always cautious, always expecting the worst.

But now, under the vast open sky, with the moon and stars casting their gentle light, the night didn't seem as threatening. It felt different—almost protective, as if the night itself was embracing him and Austin.

Vee's eyes flicked over to Austin, who lay beside him, looking peaceful. A warmth surged through Vee, spreading from his heart to the tips of his fur. This human, this boy who had become his family, had changed what night meant to him. Where once there had been fear, there was now trust, a bond strong enough to light even the darkest places.

I want to protect him, Vee thought. I want to be strong—for him, for all the adventures we have ahead.

As this resolve settled into Vee's chest, something remarkable began to stir. It wasn't like the forced evolution he'd experienced in the lab. This time, it was different. This time, the feeling wasn't painful or frightening—it was comforting, almost as if it were meant to be. The sensation was powerful, yet grounding, a natural step forward born from love and bravery rather than fear or manipulation.

A soft light began to envelop Vee, gentle and glowing like the stars themselves. It was as if the moon and the stars were lending their light to him, guiding his transformation. The aura of evolution wrapped around him, filling the air with a quiet, steady energy.

The shift in weight on his chest roused Austin from his light doze. As his eyes fluttered open, he was met with a breathtaking sight. Where Vee had been, there now sat a sleek, black Pokémon with glowing red eyes and yellow rings adorning its body. Austin blinked in awe, his heart swelling with joy as he realized what had happened—Vee had evolved into an Umbreon, the Moonlight Pokémon.

Austin reached out, his hand gently brushing against Umbreon's soft, sleek fur. "Congratulations," he whispered, his voice filled with pride and elation. Umbreon nuzzled into his touch, affectionately licking his hand. Austin couldn't contain his happiness—Umbreon was one of his favorite evolutions, and seeing Vee take this step felt perfect. He was relieved that this time, evolution hadn't been forced or painful.

But before Austin could revel in the moment for too long, something strange happened. Umbreon shook its head, a motion that caught Austin off guard. He watched, confusion growing, as a brilliant light suddenly enveloped Umbreon again. This time, the light of evolution seemed to reverse, transforming Umbreon back into the familiar form of Eevee right before Austin's eyes.

Austin sat up in disbelief, staring at Vee, who was now back to his original form. Vee looked equally confused, as if he had no idea what had just happened either.

"...Huh?"