Pokemon: Sandstorm Elite

Klein's decision to take the Cinnabar Gym Challenge quickly became a running joke across Cinnabar Island.

To the locals, the title of Cinnabar Gym Leader was nothing more than a formality—a position that the League stubbornly refused to revoke from Blaine, the island's wealthiest businessman.

Every year, Blaine formally requested the League to shut down the Cinnabar Gym. Every year, the League rejected his request.

Klein knew this well and had no real intention of taking the gym challenge. However, since Blaine had ignored him, Klein marched straight into the volcanic crater of Cinnabar Island, settling in the lava fields to wait.

When questioned by the gym staff—who were also Blaine's employees—Klein simply shrugged.

"I'll wait here until Blaine shows up so we can discuss the Gym Challenge."

"Uh, about that…" One of the staff members hesitated. "Mr. Blaine left for Sinnoh on a research trip. He also told us to relay this message to you: 'If Elite Klein wants to decide the future of the Cinnabar Gym, he may do so at his own discretion—I have no opinion on the matter.'"

Klein ignored them and continued waiting in the scorching volcanic region.

A full day passed, but Blaine never appeared. Eventually, Klein checked the internet and discovered that Blaine was, indeed, in Sinnoh, even having a friendly spar with Champion Cynthia.

As a League Elite, Klein's time was just as valuable. Frustrated, he prepared to leave—when an unexpected delivery changed everything.

"Mr. Blaine left this notebook for you," a staff member said, handing over an old leather-bound book.

Klein's eyebrow twitched. "And why didn't you mention this earlier?"

He had waited here for nothing—enduring the insufferable heat and humidity of the magma fields. His irritation was understandable.

The staff members laughed nervously. "Before leaving, Mr. Blaine specifically told us that we should only give it to you after you decided to leave."

What kind of old man plays these games?!

Klein let out a bitter laugh. The staff, who were used to his usual cold demeanor, instantly felt uneasy seeing him actually smile.

Even though Blaine had a ridiculous attitude, his decades of experience as a trainer were undeniably valuable. Klein suppressed his irritation and began reading.

The notebook contained training insights for Fire-type Pokémon and detailed accounts of battles against Elite and Champion-level opponents.

One particular entry caught Klein's attention.

Blaine's Notebook Entry:

In his twenties, Blaine had been a traveling trainer, winning several regional tournaments. He even accumulated enough Championship Points to challenge for an Elite position.

At first, he dismissed the League's Elites and Champions.

To him, high-level battles were merely a test of technique, tactics, and synergy. He believed that with time, any trainer could reach their level.

However, everything changed when he faced a true life-and-death battle.

That year, a rogue Champion-level trainer defected from the League. The High Council assembled a task force of over a dozen trainers, including Blaine, to track him down.

The result?

A massacre.

The rogue Champion, using just six Pokémon, annihilated the task force.

Blaine was completely overwhelmed.

The secret?

That Champion didn't just have one core strategy—he had three distinct battle styles, each perfectly interwoven among his six Pokémon.

At any given moment, three of his Pokémon could rotate seamlessly, supporting each other to execute complex tactical shifts.

Three battle strategies?

Klein fell into deep thought. He struggled to imagine how such a fluid multi-core system would work.

His sandstorm team operated as a single-core strategy—with Cradily and Tyranitar as the tactical foundation, creating the Sandstorm Inferno battlefield.

Dual-core strategies required two interdependent playstyles, not just a random mix of techniques. For example, his Alolan Ninetales' Snow Warning and his Sandstorm team were incompatible—since Hail and Sandstorm could not coexist.

At the end of the notebook, Blaine left a suggestion:

"Klein, it's time for you to develop a second battle strategy."

Meanwhile, in Indigo Plateau, Agatha reviewed the Cinnabar Gym Challenge report, shaking her head with amusement.

She understood Klein's eagerness to improve—but Blaine's tough love was also a valuable lesson.

"In most regions, Elites can get away with a single-core strategy due to peacetime standards," Agatha muttered. "But in Kanto, an Elite must master a dual-core battle system."

In one-on-one battles, Kanto's League performance wasn't necessarily the best.

But in full-team engagements, Kanto's Elites—who had all mastered multi-core strategies—far surpassed the average Elite from other regions.

At only fifteen years old, Klein had already self-taught himself a single-core team composition—a feat beyond extraordinary.

But Lance knew his potential didn't stop there.

If guided properly, Klein would become even stronger.

The Kanto Academy's opening ceremony was the next day.

Agatha gathered her belongings, preparing to leave for Cinnabar Island.

Lorelei had also arranged for a new Pokémon Center to open in a week, so most of the Elites were stationed on Cinnabar for preparations.

Meanwhile, Klein—returning from his meeting with Blaine's staff—reviewed the finalized list of incoming students.

Among the names, he recognized a few familiar ones.

"Not bad," he murmured. "By the way, here are the textbooks for the other courses. Let me know if anything needs revisions."

One of the professors flipped through the curriculum materials Klein had written and chuckled.

"We don't fully understand the philosophy behind these new courses, but they seem well-structured. They might actually help the students develop their perspectives."

"Elite Klein really is multi-talented—the material looks great."

Academy meetings weren't meant for debates—they were for gathering support.

Klein had no intention of forcing anyone's approval, but he did feel that the curriculum he designed was solid. Since no one objected, he didn't bother arguing further.

After finalizing the course materials, Klein gathered his things and left the Academy gates.

Then—

A familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Yo, Klein."

His pupils shrank.

His heartbeat accelerated.

For the first time in years, his usually calm hands trembled slightly.

He looked up.

A blue-haired young man was walking toward him, smiling casually.

Despite losing an arm, he moved effortlessly, his mechanical right arm dexterously spinning a Poké Ball.

"I'm heading to Johto for the regional tournament. Since I heard you were on Cinnabar Island, I figured I'd drop by and check in on you."

Klein's throat tightened.

"…Lucas."

Lucas frowned. "What's with that poker face? I thought you'd run up crying and hug me."

Klein's expression darkened. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have—"

Lucas cut him off, draping an arm over Klein's shoulders.

"Don't even start. You're my brother. Losing an arm? Who cares?"

It had been years since they last saw each other.

Klein had changed—from a bright, outgoing boy to the stoic warrior he was now.

That hurt Lucas the most.

No matter what happened, you're my brother, Klein.

And I'll always have your back.

(End of Chapter)