Morning sunlight spilled through the penthouse windows, washing over the scattered pillows and half-finished room service plates. Taylor was somehow still perched on the chandelier. Swoobat snored on Zoey's lap.
Zoey hadn't moved all night.
She sat slouched on the couch, back against the armrest, one leg hooked over the cushion. Swoobat had curled up against her after we got back from stopping the Haxorus. Zoey's illusion was gone, and her mane was loose and spilling down her shoulders. One hand rested absently on Swoobat's head, fingers flexing every so often as if, even asleep, she was making sure the little bat was still there.
Skyla groaned as I got up and opened the curtains. She buried her face in a pillow and yawned.
Zoey opened her eyes at last, gaze sharpening as she sat up. Swoobat squeaked softly, then resettled, wings twitching.
You're thinking about him, Zoey said.
Yeah.
She glanced toward the balcony, ears angling east. He couldn't have gone far.
Skyla pushed herself upright, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "So what's the plan?"
"We go now," I said. "Before the city wakes up. Before he panics again."
Skyla nodded immediately. No hesitation. "I'll grab gear."
Taylor launched herself from the chandelier with a powerful beat of her wings, landing beside Skyla and puffing up proudly. I'm coming. You benched me last night, and you're not doing it again.
Skyla looked at me for confirmation, and I translated Taylor's demand.
We moved fast. Jackets, boots, Poké Balls clipped and checked. The elevator ride down was silent this time, no adrenaline, just a shared understanding that whatever waited for us outside wasn't a battle.
The city was already waking when we stepped out onto the street. Morning traffic hummed. People walked dogs, sipped coffee, and complained about the cold. No sign that a dragon had torn through the block hours earlier, save for a few taped-off sections of pavement and a dented light pole being surveyed by Pokebots.
They sure got to work fast. Zoey commented.
"They really are wonders," I replied, glancing at the nearest bot.
By the time pavement gave way to gravel and frost-dusted dirt, my lungs were burning. The air grew thinner with every step, colder, cleaner. I brought Trilla out with us to help us track him.
He's close, Trilla murmured at last, emerging in a soft glow beside me.
The trees were the first to change as we moved farther up the slope.
The pines near the trailhead were scarred, bark split open in long, brutal gashes that spiraled down their trunks. Sap bled slowly from the wounds, amber and sticky against the pale wood. Some of the cuts were shoulder height. Others were far higher than that.
Zoey slowed beside me, eyes tracing the damage.
Yeah, she murmured. That's him.
Skyla reached out, fingers brushing one of the gouges. "These are fresh," she said quietly. "Hours at most."
Taylor let out a low warning hum from behind us, wings twitching. He's close.
We climbed in silence after that, boots crunching over frost-stiff grass and loose stone. The air thinned further as the slope steepened, wind cutting across the hillside in sharp, biting gusts. I pulled my jacket tighter, breath burning with every inhale.
At the crest of the hill, the ground leveled out into a rocky clearing.
And there he was.
Haxorus stood with his back to us, massive frame silhouetted against the pale morning sky. Broken stone littered the clearing around him. Boulders split clean in half. Smaller rocks pulverized into gravel beneath his feet. One axe-blade was buried in a boulder, anchoring him in place like he needed something solid to keep from shaking apart.
His shoulders rose and fell unevenly. Steam poured from his mouth with every breath.
For a moment, none of us moved.
Then a loose stone skittered under Skyla's boot.
The sound was barely anything, but it was enough. In an instant, he wrenched his tusk free from the boulder, completely obliterating it on the exit.
Haxorus turned, but I stepped forward before anyone else could react.
"It's okay," I said, loud enough to carry but not a shout. "We're not here to hurt you."
His eyes locked onto me, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might rush us.
Zoey shifted subtly at my side, ready but restrained.
Say the word, she warned quietly.
I shook my head once.
"No one's chasing you," I continued. "No collars. No handlers. No commands."
Trilla floated forward just a fraction, her voice brushing his mind gently. You ran because you were afraid of what you might still do, she said. That means you care.
The words hit him like a blow.
His stance dipped, just slightly. The tension dropped a bit in response. I took another slow step closer, boots crunching softly on gravel.
"I heard you last night," I said. "Right before you ran."
His jaw clenched.
"You apologized," I went on. "Not because you had to. Because you wanted to."
His chest hitched. Steam burst from his mouth in a ragged exhale.
For a long, terrible second, he just stared at us.
Then his head bowed.
Something wet splashed against the rock. Then another.
Tears streaked down his snout, freezing almost instantly in the cold air. His shoulders shook, the tension finally bleeding out of him in harsh, uneven breaths.
He wasn't roaring anymore.
He was breaking.
I approached slowly, every step deliberate. Skyla stayed back, hand resting lightly on Taylor's wing. Trilla hovered close, steady, and calm. Zoey didn't move, but I could feel her presence like a shield at my back.
When I was close enough, I stopped.
"You don't have to run," I said quietly. "And you don't have to punish yourself for surviving."
That did it.
His massive frame slumped fully, weight settling onto one knee. The sound he made then was low and broken, grief finally pouring out now that there was nowhere left to direct it.
I knelt in front of him, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off his armor.
"You're not alone anymore," I said. "But I won't force you. Not ever."
For the first time, he looked at me, not as a threat, not as a target, but as a choice.
The wind swept over the hilltop, carrying the quiet with it.
And in that stillness, I waited for his answer.
The silence lingered between us, fragile as frost.
Haxorus remained where he was, one knee braced against the stone, breath finally slowing as the worst of the storm burned itself out. His eyes never left mine. They didn't accuse. They measured.
I rose slowly and rested a hand on my belt.
"I've got a battle coming up," I said. "Soon."
That got his attention.
"Drayden," I added. "Dragon specialist. Strong and traditional. The kind of trainer who believes strength is something you survive, not something you share."
I've heard of him. Haxorus replied.
"I'm not asking you to fight for me," I said. "Not today. Not ever, if you don't want to."
A flicker of confusion crossed his face.
"My team isn't made of tools," I went on. "They're family. They argue. They push back. They choose when they're ready. And if you walk away right now, I won't stop you."
The wind tugged at the plates of his armor. For a long moment, I thought that might be exactly what he'd do.
Instead, he straightened.
Just enough to stand on his own again.
He stepped closer. The ground vibrated with the weight of him, but there was no threat in the movement. When he leaned down, it wasn't to loom, it was to see me clearly.
You would let me refuse, he said, the idea rough and uncertain.
"Yes."
Even if it costs you?
"Yes."
Something shifted.
The corner of his mouth curved upward, sharp and fleeting, not a smile, but close enough to surprise me.
Carefully, almost delicately, he reached out and tapped the button on the Poké Ball resting in my palm.
Red light spilled out, warm and steady, wrapping around him without force.
The ball clicked once.
Twice.
Then Three times.
Zoey leaned over my shoulder and smirked.
Have you ever considered a career in public speaking?
She asked sarcastically. I reached over and ruffled her hair.
And miss out on all these near-death experiences? Not a chance
Skyla let out a breath behind me that sounded like she'd been holding it since the night before.
I turned the Poké Ball slowly in my hand, thumb brushing the seam.
"Alright then," I murmured.
The name surfaced without thought.
"Nick."
The ball warmed faintly in response.
"What's next?" Skyla asked, already knowing the answer.
"We take down a Dragon Master."
We walked back through downtown Denver together, the wind still cold enough to sting my ears.
Drayden's gym address led us into a massive stone-faced structure wedged between two skyscrapers, carved dragons spiraling up the entrance columns.
I grinned. "See? Not so scary."
Zoey elbowed me mentally. You say that like statues can't come to life and eat us. You ever met a Darmanitan?
Inside, though, the lobby was… empty. Quiet. Too quiet.
A single desk. One clerk. And in the center of the marble floor sat a circular platform etched with swirling symbols. It glowed with an ominous mix of violet and blue.
I stopped short.
"Uh… Skyla?" I pointed. "Why is there a teleport pad in the middle of his gym?"
She winced. "Yeah. So, Funny story. Remember how I told you his gym wasn't like any of the others?"
"Yeah."
She raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
"And you shook it off?"
"Yeah."
"Well, Drayden's real gym isn't here. This is just the transport hub. The actual arena is… let's call it 'very inconveniently placed.'"
I crossed my arms. "Define inconveniently."
She smiled gently, stepping closer. "You'll see."
As I approached the platform, Skyla touched my elbow.
"Atrea," she said softly, "I need to tell you something."
I turned. "What's up?"
"I have to leave for a few hours. Santa Monica called. My Grandpa needs help with maintenance on the hovering tarmac. One of the stabilizers failed overnight."
I blinked. "He's okay, right?"
"Oh, yeah. Fine. Just… stressed. And he asked for me specifically." She offered a small, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I wanted to be there to cheer you on."
I nudged her shoulder. "Skyla. It's okay. We'll be fine."
Zoey flicked her hood back, smirking. We'll win this quickly and call you afterward.
Skyla didn't hear the words, but she caught the confidence in my expression and exhaled in relief. "Call me the second you're done."
"I will."
She stepped forward, kissed my cheek lightly, then squeezed my hand. "See you soon."
Then she jogged toward the exit, boots clicking across the marble floor until the door swallowed her in sunlight.
Zoey and I approached the swirling pad. The blue runes pulsed like a heartbeat.
This is gonna be fun, she said, cracking her knuckles.
I stepped onto the platform.
A chime sounded, and the world lurched.