Training stopped being quiet on the second day.
The morning started the same with cool air and slight wind, the mansion watching without comment, but the stillness of the mansion didn't last. Cyrus learned quickly that once every Pokémon was present, silence became a luxury.
They gathered across the lower terraces, spaced deliberately. Not lined up. Not staged.
Gengar hovered to his left, shadow tucked tight but restless. Ditto sat at his feet, surface rippling faintly like it couldn't decide what shape it wanted to be today. The others spread out across the stone, familiar silhouettes, different weights of attention pressing back at him.
Cyrus rolled his shoulders, testing the ache. Better than yesterday. Still not good.
"Alright," he said, voice carrying. "We're not here to win anything."
That earned him looks. A few low sounds. One sharp scrape of claw against stone.
Cyrus exhaled. "We're here to learn control."
He raised a hand. "Warm-up. Pair off. No abilities above baseline."
Gengar didn't move.
Cyrus glanced at him. "You're with me."
Gengar's grin widened...just a fraction.
They stepped onto the inner ring.
Cyrus didn't give a command, he paused. looked at Genagar...then lunged.
Cyrus did it suddenly, quick enough to test Gengar's reflex's and control over his power.Cyrus knew Gengar wouldn't want to hurt him, so he had to throw him off and make him think about the reaction.
Gengar reacted instantly, body phasing sideways, shadow snapping out...
"No," Cyrus snapped.
Gengar pulled it back hard, momentum stuttering. The correction cost him balance. It dipped and then recovered, after a moment Ganger began floating higher, eyes narrowed.
Cyrus felt the delay. That half-second where instinct wanted dominance and discipline said no.
Good, Again.
They circled. Cyrus feinted. Gengar adjusted. No attacks. Just space and timing and restraint grinding against habit.
Across the yard, the rest of the team moved too.
Bodies clashed against the earth with sliding impacts, not with killing force but with intent, testing angles, footing, and breath. Another drill turned chaotic when Ditto joined in, splitting into partial forms mid-motion, forcing its partners to adapt on the fly.
Cyrus caught flashes between movements: a mistimed dodge corrected into a roll, a blast redirected into the air instead of the ground, a misstep caught before it turned into impact.
Mistakes were allowed, but escalation wasn't.
"Reset!" Cyrus called.
All the Pokémon froze, breathing was heavy now. The air carried heat, grit, the faint metallic tang of overused energy.
"Again," he said. "But faster."
That did it.
Gengar moved first this time...too fast.
Its shadow surged without permission, snapping outward like a reflexive shield.
Cyrus felt it like a pressure wave.
"Pull it back!"
Gengar tried.
Didn't make it in time.
The stone beneath them cracked, just a hairline fracture, but sharp enough to do some real damage if Cyrus hadn't stopped him.
Gengar stared at the damage, Its grin vanished completely.
Cyrus crouched, fingers brushing the crack. He didn't look angry, just concerned.
"That's what we're fixing," he said quietly.
Gengar made a low sound. Not a growl. Something smaller.
"Gen…"
Cyrus stood. "You didn't do it because you were reckless. You did it because you were afraid of being late."
He met Gengar's eyes. "I don't need you faster. I need you with me."
Gengar nodded once. Sharp. Absolute.
They reset again, and by midday, the training had teeth they moved at a faster pace.
Cyrus rotated through partners, pushing each Pokémon into scenarios they hated, not with cruelty, but precision meant to challenge them.
Close-quarters for those who preferred range. Delayed commands for those who relied on constant direction. Blind turns, uneven terrain, overlapping drills where awareness mattered more than power.
Ditto thrived in the chaos...too much, at times it seemed Dittos speed was based on the battle. That was a problem because matching speeding isn't the same as having your own tempo.
It overextended during a three-way drill, copying mass it hadn't stabilized, collapsing into itself with a wet slap against the stone.
"Hold," Cyrus said immediately.
He crossed the space in seconds, kneeling beside it. Ditto quivered, surface flickering between half-forms.
"Easy," he murmured. "That wasn't a failure."
Ditto let out a soft, embarrassed.."Dit…".
Cyrus pressed his palm flat against its surface, steadying the rhythm. "You don't have to be everything at once."
Ditto stilled. Then reshaped, not into armor, not into a shield...but into a simple, compact form. Balanced. Intentional.
Cyrus smiled despite himself. "That's it."
The afternoon brought sparring.
Real sparring.
No lethal force. No mythic-level nonsense. But speed, impact, sweat. Cyrus took hits. Missed calls. Corrected mid-fall more than once.
His Pokémon watched him bleed and didn't panic, which was new too.
When Cyrus stumbled just once, just a step, Gengar would moved to cover him automatically.
Cyrus didn't stop it.
He adjusted position instead, sliding back into alignment, making the protection mutual instead of one-sided.
They finished as the sun dipped low, shadows stretching long across the terraces.
No one cheered.
No one collapsed.
They stood there together, breathing hard, present.
Cyrus wiped his face with his sleeve and looked around at them.
"This," he said, "is what we're doing from now on."
A pause.
"No shortcuts. No theatrics. We train like the world doesn't care how special we think we are."
Gengar floated closer, shadow resting lightly at Cyrus's side instead of wrapping around him.
"Gen," it said.
Agreement.
As the light faded and the mansion's systems quietly adjusted for night, Cyrus felt like a a real team was forming.