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Pokémon: Gyarados
LV: 57 (Old: 58)
Type: Water/Flying
Abilities: Intimidate
Gender: Male
Potential: Gold (53%)
Move:
- Tackle [E], Bite, Leer, Twister, Ice Fang, Aqua Tail, Scary Face, Dragon Rage, Crunch [M], Hydro Pump, Dragon Dance [E] , Hurricane [E], Rain Dance [E], Hyper Beam [M]
- (Innate Talent) Surf [M], (Innate Talent) IceBeam [M], (Innate Talent) Splash
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Alex studied the information displayed by his system.
Gold potential at 53%. Respectable. But not extraordinary.
LV: 57 (Old: 58). So it had already declined once.
He had suspected it, but seeing it confirmed made it clearer—this Gyarados was past its prime.
'Even though I already knew that…' Alex thought calmly, 'it's really hard for S-rank wild Pokémon to reach Champion level. Maybe Deep Gold Pokémon have a realistic chance. Or S-rank species with naturally long lifespans.'
Wild growth had limits. Without structured resources, controlled breakthroughs, and strategic evolution timing, most plateaued long before Champion.
This Gyarados was proof. Strong. Dominant in its territory, but capped.
So capped, in fact, that Alex found his thoughts drifting elsewhere while he charged.
Below, Gyarados roared in fury, surging through the water in a violent spiral. he didn't notice the precise positioning of the shoreline team.
It didn't notice the layered buffs. It didn't notice the kill zone. By the time it crossed the invisible boundary—It was too late.
"Now."
The cavern detonated with energy.
Shadow Ball tore across the air, distorting the water around it. Aerial Ace sliced downward in a clean arc. Lightning cracked through the cavern ceiling (Banette). Psychic force compressed the space around Gyarados' body.
Gyarados barely had time to process the magnitude of incoming force before the initial impact shattered its forward momentum.
The second sequence of the attack tore through its scales and destabilized its internal energy flow.
By the time the third move connected, its consciousness had already collapsed under the combined pressure of multiple High Elite-level assaults.
Unfortunately for it, coordinated attacks cannot simply be withdrawn once released.
The remaining moves continued along their trajectories and struck its now defenseless body with full force.
The cavern filled with violent splashes and rupturing sounds as the accumulated energy overwhelmed flesh and bone alike.
Massive portions of its body were torn apart under the relentless barrage, and what had once been the undisputed ruler of Area 27 disintegrated under concentrated power it had never truly been capable of resisting.
When the last echoes faded, fragments of its body fell back into the lake, and dark red spread slowly across the water's surface, carried outward by the gentle current.
What made the outcome even more impressive was that the combined attack had not even operated at perfect efficiency.
Several of the long-range moves had partially intersected as they converged on Gyarados, causing minor energy interference and slightly reducing their individual impact. Even with that inefficiency, the destructive output had been overwhelming.
Alex calmly estimated the total damage potential and concluded that, under optimal conditions, that synchronized volley could likely defeat a low-level Champion Pokémon.
The limitation was sustainability.
His team could not maintain that fully reinforced state for long. Buff stacking required preparation, positioning, and controlled timing. It was a weapon designed for planned engagements, not prolonged warfare or chaotic encounters. Used correctly, it was devastating. Used carelessly, it would collapse before achieving its purpose.
As Alex approached the remains of Gyarados, he felt nothing resembling remorse.
Before meeting Mew, he had always experienced a faint sense of pity when killing Pokémon—ironically more than he felt for humans. Wild Pokémon had seemed bound by instinct and circumstance, surviving within a system they had never chosen.
But after learning from Mew that all Pokémon reincarnate after death, entering new bodies as new Pokemon, that thin strand of pity had quietly disappeared.
He couldn't fully articulate why.
The knowledge had shifted something fundamental in his worldview.
In the past, he had questioned why immensely powerful beings such as Arceus would allow such a harsh and predatory world to exist for Pokémon, one that often seemed more brutal than human society. He had once assumed divine indifference, the cold detachment of a creator unconcerned with suffering.
Now he considered a different possibility.
If death was not true annihilation but transition, then the system was not purely cruel—it was cyclical.
Memories were lost, yes, but memory alone did not define identity. Memories contributed to self-understanding, shaped behavior, refined perspective, yet beneath them existed temperament, instinct, inclination—something deeper and less tangible.
If every memory you possessed were suddenly transferred into a doll, would the doll become you?
Alex did not believe so.
The doll would only be an object convinced it was someone else.
Continuity of memory did not equal continuity of being.
And yet, despite that reasoning, he could not deny the contradiction within himself.
When Bastiodon had lost his memories, Alex had felt as though the Bastiodon he knew had died. Even if a new body persisted, even if potential and temperament remained, the individual he had built a connection with no longer existed in the same way.
That realization complicated his thoughts on reincarnation.
If Pokémon truly returned, stripped of memory but retaining some fragment of essence, then death was neither absolute nor meaningless. It was both an ending and a reset.
He suspected that the erasure of memories—likely part of Arceus' design—served a stabilizing purpose. Endless accumulation of grief, trauma, grudges, and regret across lifetimes would create something far more destructive than predation ever could.
From a systemic standpoint, memory removal was logical.
From a personal standpoint, it was unsettling.
Alex stood silently beside the stained water, contemplating the balance between cruelty and design, loss and continuation.
Crobat glided down from above and flew alongside Alex, matching his pace with lazy, effortless wingbeats. Through their telepathic connection, his voice echoed lightly in Alex's mind.
"What are you thinking about now?"
Alex let the lingering thoughts about reincarnation fade to the back of his mind and focused on the present. He activated his TRH device and began systematically collecting the remains of the fallen Gyarados, storing usable materials with practiced efficiency.
"I was thinking about that interesting thing Mew told us," Alex replied calmly. "That Pokémon reincarnate after death, returning as new Pokémon without their memories. It's a really strange concept when you think about it."
Crobat's mental presence carried a faint sense of indifference.
"What's so strange about that?"
Alex paused briefly. He noticed the genuine lack of concern in Crobat's tone and couldn't help but smile faintly.
"Well… I'm not entirely sure," he admitted.
Crobat tilted slightly in the air, clearly puzzled by that answer, and fell silent as he began thinking it through himself. A few seconds passed while Alex continued working, the cavern quiet except for the soft hum of the TRH device and the distant drip of water from the ceiling.
Then Crobat's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing with sudden amusement as though he had reached a brilliant conclusion.
"Ha!" His mental voice brightened. "So that's it. You're jealous that I'll basically live forever in the future, aren't you?"
He began to grin, his wings fluttering in exaggerated delight.
he continued with obvious mockery, "Don't worry, I'll visit your gravestone every now and then. I might even leave some flowers if I'm in a good mood."
Alex let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh and shook his head slightly.
"I'm sure you will," he replied, smiling to himself as he continued collecting materials, allowing Crobat to enjoy his imagined immortality.
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