Morning came quietly, the kind of stillness that felt earned after a long night of thought. Cyrus sat by the inn's narrow window, sunlight glinting across the polished metal of his new gear. The faint sound of waves against the harbor mixed with the hum of city life returning below.
On the table, his PokéDex displayed lines of data scrolling across the screen — the compiled results of his first expedition.
"King Company field report one," he dictated, voice calm but focused. "Cyrus Rie King, Aethern apprentice. Conducted environmental and energy scans around Hau'oli City and southern ridge territories."
He tapped through his readings. Images of the towering Alolan Exeggutor shimmered briefly — sunlight spilling across its scales like molten gold.
"Observed extreme photonic absorption rates among local flora. Readings show stable psychic emission along plantlife and terrain. Suggests natural symbiosis between organic and elemental energy networks."
He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Alola's balance seems less mechanical and more instinctive — like the ecosystem's alive in ways we don't measure."
A faint ping interrupted his report — a message signal from The King Company's secure channel. He accepted.
[King Company // Executive Relay Connection]
His father's voice filtered through first — calm, deliberate. "We've reviewed your data, Cyrus. The readings are consistent with older field logs we never published. It's good to see you confirming them firsthand."
Then, a lighter voice — his mother's, full of warmth. "Remember, the numbers are only half of it. Alola doesn't behave like other regions. It's not just science — it's will. Everything here exists because something else gave way."
Cyrus smiled faintly. "Understood."
"Be careful out there, sweetheart," she added. "And keep your team close."
The call ended with a soft chime.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting toward the window. Beyond the glass, the horizon shimmered in bands of gold and blue. Even the air seemed to breathe.
"Everything exists because something else gave way…" he repeated under his breath.
By midday, he had packed up his equipment again. Charcadet walked at his side as they left the city, its flame armor faintly glowing in the tropical light. Ditto hung lazily around his wrist like a translucent bracelet.
They followed a dirt trail leading inland, where the air grew heavier and the smell of salt faded into damp earth and moss. The hum of city life was gone, replaced by the whisper of palms and the pulse of insects.
As they entered the forest edge, the Environmental Tracker began to flash — faint energy spikes overlapping across the area.
"Something's near," Cyrus said quietly.
He crouched, setting down the Calibration Cube. Its surface pulsed with alternating red and brown light — fire and rock types in proximity. Then came the sound — a deep growl, followed by a sharp, cutting screech that rattled the branches above.
The brush ahead exploded with motion.
A Talonflame burst from the canopy, its wings searing the air as embers spiraled off its feathers. Each beat of its wings left streaks of heat shimmering in the air. Behind it, a Lycanroc (Midday Form) charged through the undergrowth, eyes wild, fur streaked with dust and blood.
They collided in a flash of fire and stone.
Cyrus dropped behind a fallen log, the Energy Meter flaring red as it captured surges of elemental energy. Each strike shook the clearing — talons raking against rock, flame colliding with claw.
Charcadet shifted beside him, ready to leap in. But Cyrus held out a hand. "No," he whispered. "We're not part of this."
The Talonflame wheeled upward, blasting a column of fire downward in a desperate Flare Blitz. The forest floor erupted in sparks. The Lycanroc darted aside, its paws churning up soil, then lunged forward with a savage Accelerock, catching the bird mid-turn.
They crashed into the dirt with brutal force. Talonflame screeched, its wings flaring one last time — a burst of flame that hissed out in the damp air.
Then, silence.
The Lycanroc stood over the fallen firebird, chest heaving, eyes burning with primal intensity. Ash and feathers drifted between them like dark snow. After a long pause, the wolf lowered its head, gripping the Talonflame's body in its jaws.
Cyrus froze, unable to look away.
The Lycanroc dragged its prey toward the shade of the forest, branches snapping beneath its weight. The last flicker of the Talonflame's embers vanished as the predator disappeared into the trees.
Silence reclaimed the clearing.
Cyrus realized his hands were trembling. The Energy Meter dimmed, its readings stabilizing as the last traces of battle energy faded.
He stood slowly. Charcadet followed, its armor plates quiet, flame low and blue.
They stepped into the clearing. The ground was scarred with scorch marks and claw grooves. The air still smelled faintly of heat and iron.
Ditto reformed beside him, unusually silent, its surface rippling as if unsure what shape to take.
Cyrus knelt, touching the disturbed earth. "Even this," he murmured, "is part of the balance."
He looked toward the forest where the Lycanroc had vanished. "Life feeds life. The system doesn't care about mercy — only equilibrium."
He logged a brief entry into his PokéDex, though his voice was softer than before. "Observation: natural predation observed between Lycanroc and Talonflame species. Result — complete energy transfer through organic consumption. Secondary note… emotional impact high."
Charcadet glanced up at him, eyes flickering with faint worry.
Cyrus gave a small nod. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just… wasn't ready to see it."
He looked toward the canopy where sunlight filtered through like scattered fire. Alola was still beautiful — breathtaking even — but that beauty now carried weight. It wasn't a sanctuary. It was a cycle.
"Let's head back," he said quietly.
As they walked toward the edge of the forest, the wind shifted — carrying with it the scent of salt again, the faint echo of the sea. Behind them, the forest went still, swallowing its secrets like it always had.
And Cyrus Rie King understood, in a way he never had before, that the balance his parents spoke of wasn't peace.
It was survival.