The hum of the lab filled the silence like a soft mechanical heartbeat. Screens glowed in pale blue tones across the room, casting faint reflections on the glass walls. Outside, the afternoon sun slanted low across the harbor — waves glittering like fractured glass.
Cyrus sat at the main console, his hands resting still beside the data relay patch. The instruments around him whispered — Energy Meters recalibrating, Environmental Tracker cycling through scan results, and the Calibration Cube pulsing gently like a living heart.
He should have felt accomplished. He'd gathered readings no one had logged in decades. Instead, all he could think about was the clearing — the sound of claws, fire, and silence.
Charcadet sat quietly on the counter beside him, its usual fiery confidence dimmed. Ditto, meanwhile, had melted into the shape of a notebook, resting closed — a strange but oddly fitting comfort.
Cyrus began to speak softly, recording his notes.
"King Company Log, Day Three. Research Site: Hau'oli outskirts, southern ridge. Subject of analysis: observed predatory interaction between Lycanroc and Talonflame."
He hesitated, then continued. "Death confirmed. Complete energy transfer through biological means. Observation suggests consumption as part of natural sustenance — confirming that Pokémon in the wild engage in food chain behaviors, contrary to sanitized League education materials."
His words felt clinical, but his tone carried weight.
"I… was raised in a world where that concept didn't exist," he said, quieter now. "In the simulations, Pokémon faint. They rest. They recover. Even battles are designed to avoid finality."
He looked down at the data pad, scrolling through graphs of elemental dissipation. "But here… there is no off switch. Nature doesn't care about fainting."
A silence lingered — only the whirring of cooling fans filled the space.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "I was sheltered. Even before I came here. My parents built a life that didn't require me to see the rough edges of the world. And I didn't mind. The truth is… I didn't feel the need to travel. Every moment in this life is already travel enough — every day a new continent, every observation a doorway."
He smiled faintly, not out of joy, but understanding.
"Still," he went on, "today forced me to see the full circle — not the idealized version we're taught, but the one that exists whether we acknowledge it or not."
He flicked open a new data window — overlaying elemental graphs from both Pokémon species. The Fire energy signature faded into the Rock type's spectrum, a literal transfer of life.
"This isn't cruelty," he said slowly, more to himself than the recorder. "It's function. Lycanroc doesn't kill to destroy — it kills to live. Just as grass absorbs light, or oceans consume rivers. The cycle sustains itself."
Charcadet's flame brightened slightly, as if reassured.
He glanced over at his partner. "And maybe that's the point. We capture Pokémon, battle them, even feed them special formulas — but in the wild, the world feeds itself. No PokéMart. No revives. Just balance."
He turned off the recorder.
The lab fell into quiet hums again. The sunset painted warm gold through the window, touching every piece of equipment with soft light.
Cyrus stood, stretching lightly, and looked out toward the water. For the first time since the encounter, he felt a sense of peace. Not comfort — but clarity.
He took a slow breath. "Life isn't clean," he said softly. "But it's honest."
Behind him, Ditto morphed back into its usual shape, rippling in quiet agreement.
Charcadet hopped down and stood beside him, gazing at the horizon.
Cyrus smiled faintly, tucking the PokéDex under his arm. "Come on. Let's catalog the nutrient trail and finish the report. We owe the world a real account — not the story people prefer, but the one that actually exists."
The words felt like a promise.
As he began to type, the screen filled with lines of data — not just measurements, but meaning. For the first time, Cyrus wasn't just observing Alola.
He was beginning to understand it.