The cold, industrial interior of the Vermilion City Gym hummed with a low-grade electrical charge. The air smelled of ozone, rubber, and sweat. Ash stood alone in the center of the vast, reinforced battlefield, his posture erect, his eyes scanning the tiered metal stands. They were empty save for a few Gym trainers and the man himself.
Lieutenant Surge, the Lightning Lieutenant, leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his massive chest. He wore a smirk that was equal parts confidence and condescension.
"So, you're the kid who's been asking for me," Surge's voice boomed, echoing in the cavernous space. "Heard you were in town. Thought you'd have brought a cheering section. Or at least a friend to hold your hand."
Ash met his gaze, his own eyes sharp, focused, but alive with a competitive fire. This was a trainer in his element. "A battle is between trainers and their Pokémon. Everything else is just noise."
Surge's grin widened. "I like that. Makes the quiet after I win that much sweeter. Rules are simple: Three-on-three. No switches. You send 'em out, they fight 'til they can't. Ready to get shocked, kid?"
"Always," Ash said, his hand already on a Poké Ball. He felt the familiar thrill run through him.
"Light it up! Electrode!" Surge heaved his first Ball.
The spherical Pokémon appeared with a *clang*, immediately spinning on the metal floor, a whirring top of pent-up energy.
Ash's mind worked fast. *Electrode. Its game is speed and explosion.* He'd planned for this. "Pikachu! I choose you!"
"Pikachu?" Surge barked a laugh. "Starting with the baby mouse? This isn't a schoolyard, kid! Electrode, Swift!"
A golden star-barrage shot forth, homing unerringly. But Ash and Pikachu were ready.
"Agility! Weave through it!"
Pikachu became a yellow blur, not just running, but flowing around the Swift attacks with breathtaking, practiced grace. The stars exploded harmlessly against the floor in its wake.
"Close in, Iron Tail!"
Pikachu shot forward, tail glowing silver. It aimed for Electrode's base, to disrupt its spin.
"Thunderbolt, now!" Surge countered.
A web of lightning erupted from Electrode. Ash didn't flinch. "Grass Knot, underfoot!"
Mid-sprint, Pikachu stomped. Glowing vines burst from the seams in the metal plates, tangling Electrode's frantic rotation. The Thunderbolt went wild, earthing itself in a shower of sparks. Electrode wobbled, trapped.
"Now! Finish it!"
A single, focused Thunderbolt from Pikachu lanced into the immobilized Electrode. It sparked wildly and fell still.
Surge recalled his Pokémon, the smirk gone, replaced by a hard, evaluating look. "Hmph. Fast thinking. Using the field against me. But let's see how you handle a real challenge. Go, Magneton!"
The triple-bodied Steel-type emerged, magnets humming, a visible magnetic field distorting the air around it.
*Electric/Steel. Resists Electric. Iron Tail will be normal damage. But Steel hates Fire.* Ash thought, a plan clicking into place. "Return, Pikachu. Great job." He switched Balls. "Charmander! Your turn!"
"A Fire-type?" Surge's confidence returned. "One Thunderbolt and it's charcoal!"
"Fire melts steel, Lieutenant," Ash shot back, a fierce edge in his voice. "Charmander, Metal Claw! Get in close!"
"Supersonic! Disorient it!"
Magneton emitted a dizzying wave of sound. Charmander winced, its charge faltering as the world seemed to tilt.
"Don't let it control the fight! Shake it off and use Dragon Rage!" Ash urged, his fists clenched.
Charmander roared, focusing through the disorientation, and unleashed a torrent of blue-white draconic fire. The blast slammed into Magneton, pushing it back, its magnets sparking erratically.
"Thunder Wave! Paralyze it!" Surge ordered.
A jolt of paralyzing energy shot out. "Dodge and use Flamethrower!" Ash yelled.
Charmander rolled aside, the electricity grazing its tail. Coming out of the roll, it unleashed a concentrated stream of orange-blue flame. The super-effective fire engulfed Magneton, which let out a pained, metallic shriek as its steel bodies superheated.
"Finish it! Fire Fang!"
Charmander lunged, jaws wreathed in flame, and clamped down on one of Magneton's connecting arms. There was a sizzling *crunch*. Magneton sparked violently and crashed to the floor, defeated.
Surge was silent for a long moment, recalling his Pokémon. He looked at Ash, truly seeing him now. "You've got spirit. And you know your matchups. I respect that." His hand went to his final, largest Ball. "But this is where the training ends and raw power begins. Meet my partner. Raichu!"
The evolved form landed with a ground-shaking *thud*. It was massive, muscular, crackling with energy that made the lights flicker. It glared at Ash, a powerhouse made flesh.
Ash recalled Charmander, giving it a grateful nod. He looked at Raichu, then at the Ball containing Pikachu. He couldn't be predictable here. He had one Pokémon left that could theoretically face this.
"Power isn't everything," Ash said, his voice low but charged with conviction. "My Pokémon's strength comes from our bond, and our will to find a way!" He threw his last Ball. "Bulbasaur! Let's go!"
The Seed Pokémon appeared, looking small and serene before the bristling titan.
Surge shook his head, almost sadly. "Sentiment. That's your weakness, kid. Raichu! Show them the difference! Thunderbolt!"
A river of lightning, thicker and louder than any before, tore across the gym.
"Energy Ball! Cut through it!" Ash commanded.
Bulbasaur fired its vibrant green sphere. It met the Thunderbolt and was instantly vaporized, but it siphoned off a fraction of the attack's fury. The remaining lightning struck Bulbasaur, who cried out but dug its feet in, body smoking.
"It'll take more than that! Again!" Surge roared.
"Vine Whip! Not on Raichu—on the environment! Create interference!"
As another colossal Thunderbolt surged forth, Bulbasaur's vines lashed out, striking support pillars and metal plates with loud, sharp *cracks*. The sudden noise and flying debris slightly altered the electrical path. The bolt gouged a trench in the floor beside Bulbasaur, who was still buffeted by the blast but survived.
"Enough! Quick Attack!" Surge bellowed, frustrated.
Raichu vanished, a thunderclap of motion. It reappeared, fist pulled back to deliver a crushing blow.
"Now! Sleep Powder! Maximum spread!"
Bulbasaur shook its bulb as Raichu closed in. A glittering blue cloud enveloped them both. Raichu's powerful punch connected, sending Bulbasaur skidding across the floor with a pained cry. But Raichu, having inhaled the powder mid-attack, stumbled, its eyes heavy. It took two wobbling steps and collapsed into a deep sleep.
"No! Raichu, wake up!" Surge shouted, helpless.
Ash saw his chance. This was the heart of the plan. "Bulbasaur! You okay?"
From the smoke, Bulbasaur pushed itself up, bruised but determined. It nodded.
"This is it! We need everything you've got! Use Take Down… on the gym wall! Push past your limits!"
Understanding flashed in Bulbasaur's eyes. It backed up, let out a defiant roar, and charged, not at the sleeping foe, but at the solid steel wall. It was a desperate, brutal gamble.
***CRASH!***
The impact was tremendous. Bulbasaur hit the wall and crumpled, hurt by the recoil. For a heart-stopping second, nothing happened.
Then, a brilliant white light erupted from its form.
The light swelled, transforming the small body. It grew taller, the bulb on its back splitting and reshaping into a larger, closed bud. When the light faded, Ivysaur stood there, panting but radiating new power.
Surge's jaw was slack. "You… you forced an evolution? To win a gym battle?"
"To win *this* battle," Ash corrected, his voice fierce with pride. "Now! Ivysaur! Energy Ball! Full barrage!"
The newly evolved Pokémon, its power amplified, didn't need a second command. It unleashed a rapid, thunderous volley of Energy Balls. They hammered into the sleeping Raichu like green comets.
***BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!***
The explosions were continuous. Raichu was blasted from its slumber into the far wall before it could even wake, slumping down, utterly defeated.
Silence, save for the ringing in their ears and the hum of the lights. Smoke drifted. Ivysaur stood victorious, though exhausted.
Lieutenant Surge slowly recalled his Raichu. He walked across the scarred battlefield, stopped before Ash, and looked him over. The condescension was gone, replaced by hard-won respect.
"You're something else, kid," he rumbled. "You didn't just match power with power. You used your head. You used the field. You even used your own Pokémon's pain to push it further than it ever thought it could go." He held out a hand, the yellow Thunder Badge gleaming in his palm. "That's real strength. The badge is yours. You earned it."
Ash took the badge. It was warm, almost vibrating with the energy of the battle. He looked at it, then at his proud, weary Ivysaur, and finally allowed a small, triumphant smile to touch his lips. It was the genuine, hard-fought smile of a victor.
"Thank you," Ash said, his voice firm. He recalled Ivysaur, gave a final nod to Surge, and turned. As he pushed open the gym door, the evening sun warming his face, he clutched the Thunder Badge tightly.
He'd done it. His way had worked. But the road was long, and the next challenge was already waiting.
The industrial hum of the Vermilion Gym was no less intimidating the second time, but for Red, the pressure felt entirely different. He could see the fresh scuffs on the metal floor from Ash's battle. Misty was a small, tense figure in the otherwise empty stands. And in the shadowy entrance, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, was Ash himself, watching. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, analyzing everything.
*Great. An audience,* Red thought, a bead of sweat tracing down his temple.
Lieutenant Surge stood across the steel-plated battlefield, cracking his neck. He looked annoyed. "Another one? You part of that other kid's fan club?" He jerked a thumb towards Ash.
Red forced a grin, though it felt wobbly. "Let's just say I'm here to break his winning streak."
Surge grunted. "Talk's cheap. Same rules. Three on three. No switches. Don't waste my time."
Red took a deep breath. *Okay. Big entrance. Shock and awe.* He threw the Ball with a flourish. "Alright, big guy! Showtime! Go, Snorlax!"
The massive Poké Ball released a torrent of white light that resolved into the gargantuan, sleeping form of Lax. The Snorlax hit the metal floor with a resounding ***BOOM*** that made the entire gym shudder, and immediately began to snore, a sound like a chainsaw gargling gravel.
A beat of stunned silence.
Then Surge burst out laughing, a deep, roaring sound that echoed. "A SLEEPING Snorlax? Kid, did you wander into the wrong building? This is a Gym, not a nursery!"
From the stands, Misty facepalmed with an audible *smack*. "Oh, for the love of…"
Ash, in the shadows, didn't move, but one eyebrow twitched upwards a millimeter. *Interesting opener. High risk. Or high stupidity.*
Red's confident grin froze into a rictus of panic. "H-he's not asleep! He's… meditating! Yeah! Strategic meditation!"
"He's drooling on my floor!" Surge boomed, still chuckling. "Fine. Electrode, let's go! Give the naptime giant a wake-up call! Rollout!"
The spherical Pokémon burst out and began to spin, building speed as it careened towards the slumbering mountain. *Clang! Clang! CLANG!* It bounced off Snorlax's side like a pebble off a battleship. Snorlax grunted, smacked its lips, and snored louder.
"Is… is it working?" Misty whispered, clutching the railing.
Ash's eyes narrowed, calculating. *He's waiting for something. The recoil? The proximity?*
"Again! Faster!" Surge commanded, his laughter fading into irritation.
Electrode hit a fourth time, now a blur of motion. This time, it rebounded at a perfect angle, heading straight for Snorlax's open, snoring mouth.
Red saw it and panicked. "Lax! Move! Don't eat it! That's not a berry!"
But his command was unnecessary. The vibration finally registered. Snorlax's eyes shot open just as Electrode was about to ricochet into its maw. With a look of profound annoyance, as if swatting a fly, Snorlax simply rolled onto its side.
***CRUNCH-SQUISH.***
The sound was deeply unpleasant. Electrode was not bounced; it was utterly flattened between several hundred pounds of Snorlax and the unyielding steel floor. It sparked once, feebly, and lay still in a vaguely pancake-shaped form.
Surge's jaw hung open. He recalled his Pokémon, staring at the Ball. "You… you used my own attack's momentum…"
From the stands, Misty pumped her fist. "YES! That's my—! I mean, that's one down! Go, Red!"
Red let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his panic melting into giddy relief. "Told you! Strategic… napping!"
Ash gave a barely perceptible nod. *A defensive trap. Crude but effective. He's using its mass as a counter.*
"Fine," Surge growled, his humor gone. "Let's see how your pillow fares against magnetic disruption! Magneton! Deploy!"
The triple-bodied Steel-type appeared, its magnets whirring ominously.
Red knew the type disadvantage was brutal. "Okay, Lax! Uh… use Yawn! Make it sleepy!"
Snorlax, still lying down, obligingly opened its maw in a cavernous, rumbling yawn. A visible wave of drowsiness pulsed towards Magneton.
"Don't let it connect! Thunderbolt!" Surge yelled.
Magneton fired a crackling web of electricity that danced over Snorlax's vast body. The Normal-type roared in genuine pain—the attack was super effective—its fur standing on end and smoking. But the Yawn had landed. Magneton's spins began to slow, its lights dimming.
"Now, Lax! Body Slam!" Red ordered, seizing the chance.
Snorlax tried to heave itself up, but the Thunderbolt had taken its toll. It got halfway, wobbled, and then just… tipped over sideways onto the slowing Magneton.
***CLUNK. CRUNCH.***
It wasn't a graceful Body Slam. It was more of a controlled collapse. But the effect was the same. Magneton was pinned, sparking pathetically, before falling silent, asleep under the weight.
Two down. But Snorlax was clearly spent, its sides heaving.
Surge recalled Magneton, a fierce light in his eyes. "Your trick's run its course. That Snorlax is on its last legs. Time to end this! Raichu! Show him the meaning of power!"
The massive Raichu emerged, its cheeks crackling with furious, sizzling energy. It took one look at the weary, smoking Snorlax and let out a challenging snarl.
Red gulped. "Hang in there, Lax! We just need to—"
"Raichu! Quick Attack into Thunder! Full power!" Surge roared, giving no quarter.
Raichu became an orange streak, a *thump* echoing as it slammed into Snorlax's belly. Before Snorlax could even groan, Raichu leaped back, raised its arms, and summoned a stormcloud. A pillar of lightning so intense it turned the air purple descended directly onto Snorlax.
***KRA-KOOOOM!***
The flash blinded everyone. When their vision cleared, Snorlax was flat on its back, a curl of smoke rising from its fur, eyes swirled. It let out one final, peaceful snore.
"NO! LAX!" Red cried, recalling his fallen giant. He patted the Ball frantically. "You were amazing, buddy. Just amazing." He took a shuddering breath. One Pokémon left for Surge, barely scratched. He had two. The panic was creeping back in. "Okay, okay, think… Ivysaur! I choose you!"
Ash's former Bulbasaur emerged, looking determined but comically small before the hulking, crackling Raichu.
Surge smirked. "Another Grass-type? Sentimental. And predictable. Raichu! Thunderbolt!"
"Vine Whip the ceiling! Swing!" Red shouted, his voice cracking slightly.
Ivysaur's vines shot upward, latching onto a girder. It yanked itself into the air just as the lightning scorched the floor. It swung there, a leafy pendulum.
"Agility, then Iron Tail!" Surge commanded.
Raichu vanished, reappearing in mid-air next to the swinging Ivysaur, tail glowing like a silver sword.
"Energy Ball, now!" Red yelped.
Ivysaur fired the green sphere point-blank. It exploded against Raichu's chest at the same moment the Iron Tail connected. Both Pokémon were thrown back. Ivysaur hit the ground hard and didn't get up.
"Ivysaur, return!" Red's heart was hammering against his ribs. He was down to his last Pokémon. Against a wounded but still monstrous Raichu. He looked over at Misty, who was biting her knuckles, and then at Ash. Ash hadn't moved, but his gaze was locked on Red, intense and expectant. *What would you do?* Red thought desperately.
He grabbed his final Ball. His hand was sweaty. *No more tricks. Just heart.* "Poliwhirl! I need you!"
The Tadpole Pokémon emerged, its spiral belly swirling calmly. It took one look at the towering Raichu, then back at Red, and gave a firm, confident nod. *"Poli!"*
Some of Red's panic receded. Poliwhirl's steadiness was an anchor.
"A Water-type? Now I know you're desperate," Surge said. "Raichu, end it! Thunderbolt!"
"Double Team!" Red commanded, finding his voice again.
Poliwhirl split into a dozen afterimages. The Thunderbolt speared through three, which vanished. The real Poliwhirl was skittering across a damp patch on the floor—residue from Ivysaur's earlier attack.
"Find it! Quick Attack!" Surge barked.
Raichu blurred, smashing through illusion after illusion. It was terrifyingly fast.
Red saw his chance, a tiny window. It was the dumbest, riskiest move. It had to be now. "Now, Poli! While it's between targets! Hypnosis!"
The real Poliwhirl, standing directly in Raichu's last known path, stopped and focused. Its belly pattern swirled with hypnotic intensity.
Raichu skidded to a halt, turning. Its eyes met the swirling spiral.
It blinked. Shook its head. Its fierce snarl softened into a confused grimace. Its arms, raised to attack, slowly lowered. It took one heavy, stumbling step forward, and then its eyes rolled back. It fell face-first onto the metal floor with a resonant *CLANG*, a deep, rumbling snore joining the gym's hum.
Silence, broken only by Raichu's sonorous sleep-sounds.
Red stared, hardly daring to believe it. Misty was frozen, hands over her mouth.
Ash, in the shadows, leaned forward slightly, a flicker of something—approval? surprise?—in his eyes.
"You… you put it to SLEEP?" Surge bellowed, outraged. "Raichu! Wake up!"
Red's brain, freed from panic, snapped into overdrive. "Poliwhirl! Soak it! Water Gun on the ceiling!"
Poliwhirl aimed high and unleashed a powerful jet of water onto the girders above the sleeping Raichu. A perfect, drenching shower rained down, soaking the Electric-type to the skin.
"What are you—?" Surge spluttered.
"And finish it! Body Slam from the high ground!" Red pointed to a slightly raised platform of machinery.
Poliwhirl scrambled up the equipment, took a deep breath, curled into a cannonball, and launched itself. It came down from a height of eight feet, all of its compact weight focused, onto the sopping wet, deeply asleep Raichu.
***SQUELCH-THUD.***
It was the most undignified knockout in history. Raichu didn't even twitch.
Surge recalled his partner. He stared at the puddle on his battlefield, then at Red's panting, triumphant Poliwhirl. He looked utterly baffled.
Then, he started to laugh. Not a mocking laugh, but a genuine, weary, impressed chuckle. He walked over, shaking his head. "A sleeping Snorlax trap. A Grass-type sacrifice. A Hypnosis from a Water-type… and a shower." He rubbed his forehead. "Kid, that was the weirdest, most chaotic, ridiculous victory I've ever seen. It shouldn't have worked. But it did." He pulled out the Thunder Badge and dropped it into Red's still-trembling hand. "You won by the skin of your teeth and a whole lot of nerve. Don't let it go to your head."
Red clutched the badge, the metal cool against his palm. The panic was gone, replaced by a soaring, disbelieving euphoria. "We did it, Poli!" He recalled his partner, beaming.
Misty erupted from the stands, sprinting down. "You did it! That was insane! I almost had a heart attack!" She punched his arm, grinning.
Red laughed, breathless. He looked past her, to the doorway.
Ash was gone. Only a shadow remained where he'd been standing. But Red could almost feel the weight of that analytical gaze lingering. He'd won. But he'd also shown Ash his hand—chaotic, risky, full of heart. And Ash had seen it all.
The race was still on. And Red, still buzzing with the thrill of his messy, glorious victory, couldn't wait for the next lap.
You are absolutely right, my apologies for the confusion. The continuity got mixed up. Let's rewrite that final scene with the correct premise: Ash still has his newly-evolved Ivysaur, and Red has his own separate Ivysaur. The scene should focus on their contrasting philosophies after both securing their victories.
***
The sterile calm of the Pokémon Center lobby felt like a decompression chamber after the thunderous intensity of the gyms. Red leaned against the main desk, a weary but solid smile on his face as Nurse Joy handed back his team. "Your Snorlax is quite the character! He ate three full bowls of Pokémon food and went right back to sleep. He'll be fine."
"Thanks, Nurse Joy. He earns his naps," Red said, the warmth of victory still humming in his veins. He turned and spotted Ash immediately.
He was in the far corner, but not sitting. He was standing before a large potted fern, his newly-evolved Ivysaur beside him. Ash wasn't looking at his Pokémon; he was carefully wiping a smear of soot from one of Ivysaur's leaves with a damp cloth from the Center. His movements were deliberate, gentle even, but his face was set in that familiar mask of analytical focus, as if performing a necessary maintenance procedure. His Pikachu sat on a nearby chair, watching.
Misty, who was applying a novelty band-aid (featuring a crying Magikarp) to her bike's scrape, followed Red's gaze and rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Even his 'care' looks like a science project."
Red ignored her. He felt a need to close the loop. They'd both faced the same mountain and climbed it from opposite sides. He walked over, the squeak of his sneakers on linoleum the only sound.
Ash's eyes flicked up, registering Red's approach, then returned to his task. "You won," he stated, without inflection.
"Yeah. So did you," Red replied, stopping a few feet away. He watched Ash's hands, the careful precision. "Pretty different methods."
"Your method was statistically unsound," Ash said, finally finishing and stepping back to examine Ivysaur. The Grass-type stood a little taller, its leaves gleaming. "The Snorlax opening was a liability. The Hypnosis was a low-percentage play. You won through a series of favorable random outcomes."
The clinical dissection was back, but Red was ready for it this time. He didn't get defensive. He crossed his arms. "Maybe. But we pulled it off. My team believed we could, even when it looked nuts. That's gotta count for something."
"Belief is not a tactical variable," Ash said, turning to face him fully. But then his gaze shifted to his own Pikachu, who was now trying to stack sugar packets, and a faint, almost invisible tension left his shoulders. "It is, however, a motivational catalyst. Your Pokémon trust your judgment, even when it's flawed. That allowed the Poliwhirl maneuver to succeed. The bond was… functional."
It was the closest thing to a compliment Red was going to get. It wasn't about feelings; it was about observed results. *The bond was functional.*
"Functional," Red repeated, a wry smile touching his lips. "Yeah. I'll take it." He nodded at Ash's Ivysaur. "He looks great. That evolution was something else. You really pushed for it."
Ash placed a hand on Ivysaur's head, not a pat, but a firm, acknowledging touch. "The evolution was a calculated risk to increase combat effectiveness by an estimated 62%. The trigger condition was severe stress. It was necessary." He said it like he was reporting data, but his hand stayed there for a second longer than needed. Ivysaur leaned into the touch slightly.
Red saw it. The crack. The proof that beneath all the calculations, Ash *cared*. He just framed it in a different language.
"Look," Red said, his tone shifting from challenging to earnest. "Your way works. I saw it. It's clean, it's powerful. But my way works for me. It's messy, it's nerve-wracking… but it's us. And we're not done getting better."
Ash considered him, his dark eyes sharp. "The Celadon Gym will not be susceptible to chaos. Erika's Grass-types enforce order. They will turn your unpredictability against you." He paused, and for a fleeting moment, the cold strategist faded, replaced by something resembling the old, fiercely competitive Ash. "If you continue to rely on luck and raw trust without structure, you will lose."
It wasn't an insult. It was a warning. A hard, honest assessment from someone who had just proven he understood winning.
"Then I'll find a structure that works for us," Red shot back, his own competitive fire lighting. "Not a spreadsheet, but our own rhythm. You plan for every variable. I'm gonna learn to *create* new ones."
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched Ash's lips. It was gone in a flash. "An interesting hypothesis. I will observe the results." He recalled Ivysaur, then picked up Pikachu, placing him on his shoulder. "I depart for Diglett's Cave at 0600. The route offers efficient training against Ground-types for Pikachu."
The land route. The longer, wilder path. Red had mentioned taking it. Ash was going the same way.
"Guess I'll see you on the road then," Red said, his grin returning. "Try not to calculate all the surprise out of the trip."
Ash paused at the sliding doors. He didn't look back, but his voice was clear. "Trust your team, Red. But give them the tools to justify that trust. Luck is not a tool. It is a circumstance."
And with that, he was gone, the doors whispering shut behind him.
Red stood there, the words settling over him. They weren't warm. They weren't friendly. But they were, in Ash's own abrasive way, meant to help. A rival's challenge and a strategist's advice, all in one.
Misty walked up, her bike forgotten for a moment. "Well? What did Captain Obvious have to say?"
"He said I rely too much on luck," Red said, turning to her, his eyes bright with a new kind of determination.
"What a jerk!"
"No," Red said, surprising even himself. "He's right. But he's also wrong." He looked at the doors where Ash had exited, then down at his own Poké Balls. "I'm not gonna stop trusting my gut, or my team. But maybe… maybe I can give that trust a sharper edge. Starting tomorrow."
The road to Celadon was waiting. One path, two rivals walking it their own way. The next clash wasn't just inevitable; it was something Red now actively, eagerly, needed to prepare for.