The corridor leading to Marshal's chamber wasn't lit with torches like the others; it was lit with lanterns. Heavy iron lanterns hanging from thick chains, swaying slightly with each draft of air. Their flames burned a deep orange, throwing long shadows against the stone and filling the hall with the smell of warm metal and chalk dust.
As I walked, the walls changed from carved stone to thick, reinforced slabs studded with impact marks, fist-shaped dents, and shattered cracks. Places where something strong had punched right through.
Skyla whispered, "He trains in the corridor?"
"Evidently," I said nervously.
Farther ahead, the hallway opened into a massive room illuminated by a single ring of floodlights overhead. The arena wasn't refined or ornate like Caitlin's chamber. It was a brutalist square, four stone pillars in each corner, and the floor carved with chalk lines that had been smudged and redrawn countless times.
Everything smelled like sweat, grit, and determination.
The air vibrated with a low rhythmic thumping sound. Like someone was hitting a punching bag hard enough to shake the walls. When we rounded the corner, the source came into view.
Marshal was standing barefoot in the center of the arena, his torso bare with tape wrapped around his forearms. His muscles were corded and dense, not aesthetic but functional. He was built like a living battering ram with his black belt trailing behind him like a banner with each strike.
He threw another punch into a hanging slab of stone suspended from chains, which caused it to swing back violently.
Skyla whispered under her breath, "He's taller than I remember."
"You're not getting any ideas, are you?" I asked sarcastically.
"You know I only have eyes for you." She responded, blowing a kiss as she took her place on the sidelines.
Marshal didn't look up. It was like he felt us arrive.
The chain stopped swinging one second after his final strike.
Marshal exhaled, slow and controlled, and let the stone slab drift behind him. For a moment, he simply stood there, breathing evenly, eyes still closed.
Then he spoke.
"You climbed this far," he said. "Good."
His voice was deep and steady. Full of something like thunder held in restraint.
His eyes opened.
They weren't harsh or cold. They were bright but focused. Like someone who lived for movement and saw battle as a kind of purity.
He walked toward us with the grounded weight of a man who never wasted an ounce of energy.
"You are Atrea Morgan," he said. It wasn't a question.
I nodded. "Yes."
He studied me openly, the way a craftsman examines a stone before carving it.
"I watched your match against Drayden when the League broadcast it. Your Haxorus fought with heart. Your Gardevoir with light. And your Zoroark… well, I think she's gonna piss me off."
His mouth curved into something between a grin and a challenge.
"You fight like a storm, Morgan. But it's my job to tame your storm."
"You can certainly try."
Marshal gave me a curt nod. He wasn't intimidated, but clearly eager to test my skills.
"This chamber," he said, sweeping his arm across the arena, "is not about elegance. Not about tricks. Not about illusions or intellect."
He pounded his fist once into his palm, the sound cracked like a gunshot.
"It is about endurance."
He pointed to the polished stone floor, divided into squares by chalk lines. "Every challenger meets me on equal footing."
He snapped his fingers, and the bars overhead descended a few feet with a heavy groan of metal. The sound reverberated through my ribs.
Skyla flinched. "Oh. Cool. A death trap."
Marshal laughed. An honest, warm, and terrifyingly confident smile crossed his face.
"No death. Only pressure. After each round, the cage lowers further. This limits mobility to the point that evasion becomes impossible. You either stand and endure, or flee and lose."
Marshal's grin widened. "Show me the strength Chloe believed you had."
He stepped backwards, planting his feet in a fighter's stance as he reached for his first Poké Ball.
"Let us begin."
A Heracross materialized in a burst of light, landing with a thud before fluttering upward with short, powerful bursts from its wings. It couldn't truly fly, more like hover-jumping, but it was enough to maneuver around the bars before they sank lower.
Heracross screeched, beating its wings in tight bursts that shook the dust from the bars.
He was using the early height advantage before Marshal took it away.
That gave me an idea, a risky but smart one.
If my bulkier team members were going to lose mobility later, I needed them fresh for when the cage closed in. Nick and Swampert could brawl in a phone booth. As for Zoey… well, illusions didn't require space.
But Simon and Trilla?
Simon shone when he had room and more distance allowed Trilla to build up psychic attacks as the foe advanced.
"Alright," I murmured, unclipping Simon's ball.
"Let's dance."
The Poké Ball snapped open, and Simon burst forth in a spiral of green and sand-gold light, wings cutting the air in a shockwave.
Yeah baby! He shouted, looping above me once before coiling midair. Who are we smashing?!
Heracross leaned forward, antennae twitching.
Simon grinned, or whatever the Flygon equivalent of one was. Oooooh. The big beetle. This'll be fun.
Simon hovered above me, eyes shining with competitive fire. Atrea, tell me we're going all-out.
Not yet, I warned him. We've got six rounds and shrinking space. I need you to handle the high-mobility round. Later, things are going to get… tighter.
Simon's wings buzzed happily. So I get to play while there's room? Perfect!
Marshal pointed forward. "Heracross, open the match!"
Heracross roared, wings flaring.
The steel bars above us rattled, preparing for their next descent.
I lifted my hand.
"Simon, let's start strong."
He shot upward, wings blazing.
And the first round began.
Heracross beat its wings in sharp, muscular bursts, lifting itself just high enough to change angles faster than most Flying types could track. It wasn't graceful, more like a heavyweight doing jumping jacks, but each flap sent a shockwave through the dusty air.
Marshal's voice boomed across the chamber.
"Heracross! Control the sky and force the tempo!"
Marshal thrust an arm forward. "Megahorn!"
Heracross tucked its legs and shot forward in a straight line, like a charging bull with wings. The speed surprised even me.
I was about to tell him to dodge when Simon faded to the left and slapped Heracross on the side of the face as it stumbled past him. Then, with a graceful forward flip, Simon brought his tail down onto Heracross's back and sent the bug plummeting to the ground. As it descended, however, Marshal yelled out.
"Spin and burrow on impact."
Right before it hit the ground, Heracross turned its erratic fall into a bullet dive and drilled right through the floor. A moment later, it surfaced completely unscathed.
One hell of a recovery!
Simon told his opponent.
There wasn't a response as Heracross bent its knees to leap up. It took off with a brutal elegance only a highly trained fighter could have accomplished, and it met Simon's elevation in a heartbeat. The time between the jump and its contact with Simon let it charge up Brick Break.
Fortunately, Simon had watched all of this from above, and its leap had telegraphed Heracross's eventual position. Simon met the charging bug with a downward Dragon Claw. An explosion of brown and green energy swept outward as the attacks connected. Heracross hadn't even hit the ground when Simon dove after him.
Scramble him, Simon, I called telepathically.
On it, He responded before sending a low-frequency burst of sound toward his falling foe. Heracross hit the floor just before the Supersonic connected. A moment later, the bug got to its feet but hesitated for a moment to regain its composure after the disorienting attack.
That was all Simon needed. His body lit up with a blue and green shroud of energy on his descent. The impact of the Dragon Rush finished the round in a spectacular burst of white light.
Simon hovered above the battlefield, his wings humming proudly as the emerald glow dissipated.
Skyla clapped once, stunned. "Oh my Arceus, Simon. That was unreal. I blinked, and half of that fight didn't look physically possible."
Simon winked at me. I take compliments in snacks.
Marshal recalled Heracross with a firm, respectful nod.
"You fought well, partner," he murmured to the Poké Ball, then looked up at me. His eyes weren't angry or shocked; they were bright, fired up, impressed.
"Your Flygon has remarkable spatial awareness," he said, stepping forward. "He adapted instantly to the air patterns. Few challengers can read Heracross's movements from above."
Simon popped a little aerial loop. Tell me more.
Marshal pointed upward. The bars groaned and descended another several feet, the metal lattice lowering with a weighty clatter. The ceiling felt noticeably closer, not oppressive yet, but shrinking.
"Your mobility window narrows," Marshal said.
"Choose wisely. Endurance begins now."
I swallowed, already feeling the strategy shifting. Simon thrived on open space, but Nick and Swampert needed enclosed arenas to shine.
Which meant now was the exact moment to avoid using them.
I unclipped Trilla's ball and deployed her.
Her presence warmed my mind instantly.
Your heart is racing, she whispered gently.
You ready for another round? I asked.
Always.
Marshal slid a new Poké Ball from his belt and tossed it forward.
Conkeldurr materialized in a burst of stone and dust, slamming both concrete pillars into the ground with a sound like thunder. The entire arena shook.
Conkeldurr pointed one pillar toward Trilla's, snorted, and spun the other like it weighed nothing.
Marshal crossed his arms, muscles coiling like rope.
"This round is not speed," he said. "It is tenacity."
He raised one hand like a referee calling for a bell.
"Atrea Morgan, show me your heart."
Trilla floated gently forward as Conkeldurr cracked his neck.
I smirked as she whispered in my mind.
He doesn't realize that he's brought me two weapons.
I smiled despite myself. Kind of love that confidence.
Marshal raised his hand. "Round two, begin!"
Conkeldurr surged forward with surprising speed for something who carried two pieces of a demolished building in his hands.
Trilla didn't flinch.
Her eyes glowed violet, and one of Conkeldurr's massive pillars jerked upward like it was being yanked by an invisible giant. Trilla pulled it toward herself with a graceful flick of her wrist, but the moment it left his grip, Conkeldurr simply lurched forward and grabbed it again.
He wrenched the pillar back with raw power and a guttural roar.
The reversal of force yanked Trilla off-balance, and she stumbled forward, straight into a sideways swing from the other pillar.
It slammed into her ribs with brutal force. I gasped in sympathetic pain as the impact sent Trilla crashing into the arena wall. Stone debris shivered loose as she slid down to one knee.
Ouch, that hurt, she said, wincing.
Trilla, Mega Evo-
She flicked a hand dismissively. I don't need that boost to fry him.
Trilla floated upward again, eyes narrowing as Conkeldurr charged, pillars raised.
She lifted her palms and electricity burst between her fingertips, splitting into three forking Thunderbolts that shot across the arena like living spears.
Conkeldurr braced and managed to smack one of the bolts aside.
However, instead of dissipating, the lightning bent in midair like a striking serpent and hit him in the back.
Marshal's eyes widened. "What?!"
The second Thunderbolt jabbed his left flank while the third one struck his chest.
Trilla's voice brushed my mind, smooth as silk.
Lightning is only energy. And energy obeys thought.
I realized with a jolt of awe that she was psychically manipulating the electricity itself, guiding every forked path like a puppeteer pulling a thousand strings.
Conkeldurr pushed through the onslaught, staggering but relentless, wincing each time another arc snapped around his defences and bit into him from behind.
He roared, lifting a pillar high, and charged straight for Trilla with sheer stubborn fury. He swung his stone weapon down.
A metallic clang rippled through the arena as Trilla flicked one hand forward.
Protect.
A shimmering green barrier flared between them, angled just enough to parry the blow sideways. Conkeldurr stumbled as the deflected pillar swung wide, out of position.
Trilla didn't waste the opening. Her other hand snapped upward to deliver Psyshock.
The psychic barrage hit Conkeldurr square in the chest like a cannonball. He lifted off the ground, slammed backward, and crumpled into the dust with a heavy, echoing thud.
His pillars rolled away in opposite directions as the arena fell silent.
Marshal closed his eyes with respect as the referee made the announcement.
"Conkeldurr is unable to battle."
Trilla floated back to me, adjusting her gown with prim dignity.
I told you, she said sweetly. Mega Evolution was unnecessary.
I couldn't help laughing. Yeah… yeah, you did.
Marshal recalled Conkeldurr, eyes burning hotter now, not with frustration, but excitement.
"The cage lowers again," he said.
The steel bars above us groaned as they descended another several feet. The arena shrank, and the air tightened with it. Marshal stood unmoving on the far side of the cage, arms folded across his chest.
"Your resolve is strong," he said. "Let us test your foundation."
His next Poké Ball struck the stone with a sharp crack.
"Toxicroak."
The frog Pokémon materialized in a low crouch, orange cheek-sacs swelling as poison dripped slowly from the blades protruding from his wrists. His eyes gleamed with a predator's patience.
"Next combatants," the referee called. "Send out your Pokémon."
I unclipped the next ball at my belt.
"Swampert. Let's go."
The beam burst open, and Swampert landed with a heavy thud that shook the tiles beneath his feet. He rolled his shoulders once, thick arms flexing as he sized up the frog across the cage.
…That thing looks unpleasant.
Indeed.
I replied
"Round three begin!" the referee called.
Toxicroak moved first in a blur of motion. He crossed half the arena in a heartbeat. Swampert met him head-on with a roar.
Their collision cracked through the cage like thunder. Fist met forearm, muscle against venomous blades. Swampert's sheer mass stopped the charge cold, but Toxicroak twisted in the contact with unnerving agility. His knee drove toward Swampert's ribs.
Swampert blocked it with his elbow and shoved him back, claws digging trenches in the stone.
Okay, Swampert grunted. That one's got hands.
Toxicroak's eyes glittered.
You have no idea.
Then he lunged again. This time, he dropped low. The realization hit me a split second too late.
Swampert!
Toxicroak's fist rocketed upward in a vicious uppercut that slammed into Swampert's jaw. The blow lifted him clear off the ground. Swampert crashed onto his back with a thunderous impact that rattled the descending cage.
Swampert rolled just as Toxicroak's blade slammed down where his throat had been, carving a deep groove in the stone. The venom that coated his blades sizzled on contact with the stone floor. Swampert scrambled back to his feet, shaking his head hard.
Okay… that actually hurt.
I clenched my fists. "That's not Roxie's Toxicroak," I warned him. "This one's built for brawling."
Toxicroak lunged again.
Swampert braced for the hit, but Toxicroak's cheek sacs bulged.
A glob of thick purple venom shot forward. It splattered across Swampert's eyes and face and hardened instantly like resin. Swampert staggered.
Atrea, I can't see!
"Swampert!" I shouted.
"Close Combat," Marshal commanded.
Toxicroak crashed into him like a battering ram. The barrage was merciless. Punch after punch hammered into Swampert's chest and ribs, driving him backward step by step. A blade slashed across his shoulder. Another smashed into his gut. Swampert swung blindly, missing by inches. The frog danced just outside his reach and hammered him again. Pain rippled through our link.
Atrea!
Swampert's claws scraped uselessly across the floor. He was blind and off balance. This was exactly the situation Marshal wanted. Swampert staggered under another brutal strike.
My pulse steadied.
Swampert.
He froze mid-breath.
Open your mind to me. One heartbeat passed.
I trust you.
Drop your guard on my mark.
He hesitated. Just for a second. Then his arms lowered.
Toxicroak surged forward eagerly.
Mark.
The first punch slammed into Swampert's temple. Pain exploded through our link, yet the world sharpened instantly. Every twitch of muscle. Every shift in weight. I could feel Toxicroak's next movement before it happened.
Right hook.
Swampert's arm snapped up and caught the blow.
Toxicroak's knee flexed.
Left knee.
Swampert pivoted, taking the strike across his hip instead of his ribs. Marshal's eyes narrowed when Swampert's massive hands shot forward and seized both of Toxicroak's arms. The frog tried to twist away, but Swampert's grip was iron.
Got you.
He yanked Toxicroak forward and drove his forehead straight into the frog's face. The headbutt cracked like a gunshot. Toxicroak reeled, but Swampert didn't give him space. He slammed Toxicroak down into the arena floor hard enough to shatter the stone beneath them.
Skyla yelped. "Oh my god!"
Swampert planted one massive foot against Toxicroak's chest to keep him pinned. He raised his arm, fist glowing white.
Stay down.
The Ice Punch crashed down onto Toxicroak like a falling boulder.
Frost exploded across Toxicroak's torso as the impact rattled the entire cage.
Toxicroak tried to rise, but Swampert grabbed him again and hauled him upward by the throat. He didn't have any strength left to resist as the Hammer Arm connected.
The impact detonated through the arena floor, driving Toxicroak deep into the shattered rock beneath him. The entire cage rang with the force of it. Toxicroak's body went limp instantly.
The referee raised his arm. "Toxicroak is unable to battle!"
Swampert stood there breathing heavily, poison still crusted over his eyes.
Did… did I get him?
I ran forward, already smiling. "You absolutely did."
Swampert wiped the hardened venom from his eyes with a grunt.
He was still standing… but barely. The fight had cost him.
The steel bars overhead groaned again as they lowered another foot. Marshal recalled Toxicroak slowly, studying Swampert with growing respect.
"You are pushing me," he said, voice deep and steady. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Good. Very good."
I recalled Swampert as Marshal palmed his next Poké Ball.
"Let us continue."
Lucario materialized in a sharp pulse of blue-white light, crouched with one paw on the ground.
I deployed Zoey in response.
As soon as she landed, Lucario's eyes lit up bright blue, locking onto her.
Oh, fun, Zoey murmured. The dog who smells thoughts.
"Round four, begin!" the referee shouted.
Lucario didn't move.
He simply extended one paw and fired a Flash Cannon straight into Zoey. I wasn't concerned because I knew she wouldn't have remained in place for longer than needed. Sure enough, the double vaporized in a burst of smoke.
The real Zoey revealed herself and darted backwards as the attack's residual blast cut a trench across the floor.
Atrea… he sees through my illusions somehow.
Then do what you did with Delphox. Don't rely on tricks, I told her. Get in close.
Zoey nodded and exhaled a cloud of pitch-black smoke that plunged her position into darkness.
Lucario's ears twitched as he scanned the smoke calmly.
I heard Zoey stomp once, and the ground outside the smoke softened like wet sand. She would have vanished underground by now.
Lucario's ears twitched again. He sensed her, but not fast enough.
Zoey burst upward and landed a nasty uppercut to his jaw.
Lucario reeled, but Zoey's emergence gave him a slim opening before she hit the ground again. She was still mid-air when Metal Claw connected with her ribs in a bright arc of steel.
The simultaneous hits blasted both of them backwards across the arena.
Zoey rolled, gasping. Fuck that hurt!
Lucario skidded into a crouch, but Zoey rose first.
She lifted both hands and fired three Shadow Balls. One was dead center, while the other two were angled so they'd arc to his left and right.
Split them Zoey. Give him some more targets.
Right on cue, the left and right orbs suddenly split, forming five total.
Lucario thrust out his palm and formed a pulsing Aura Sphere. He didn't fire it, though. Instead, he held it like a shield, letting it swell with explosive energy until the first Shadow Ball met it head-on.
Both projectiles cooked off in an explosion of dark energy and aura light that rattled the cage bars overhead.
The second and third hit next. At least they seemed to. On contact, they vanished in a burst of smoke. Lucario blinked once. Then his head jerked to look behind him.
The last two Shadow Balls appeared out of thin air behind him in a blink, snapping out of illusion and into reality at the perfect moment.
"No!" Marshal exclaimed. The look of shock on his face was glorious.
Both slammed into Lucario's back, staggering him forward onto one knee.
Zoey didn't give him time to breathe.
She sprinted in, claws glowing with Night Slash, ready to end it. Lucario pivoted with sudden precision, fist lit up for Brick Break.
The two attacks connected at the same instant. Zoey's claws carved across his shoulder, and Lucario's hand chopped down on her chest.
Both Pokémon froze, their eyes wide as momentum carried them past each other. Then, he dropped.
Zoey collapsed to one knee, breath shuddering, but stayed upright. Lucario, on the other hand, didn't fare as well.
He fell onto his side, chest rising and falling shallowly before going still.
The referee raised his flag.
"Lucario is unable to battle!"
The bars overhead descended again, the metal scraping louder now.
Marshal returned Lucario in a beam of light and nodded once, almost gratefully.
"Well done." He said.
"Your Zoroark showed true courage and adaptability. "
He reached for his next Poké Ball.
"Two more to go."
The bars overhead sank again with a metallic groan, lowering the cage to about fifteen feet.
They were far enough to allow at least a little mobility, but close enough to remind us that this was Marshal's arena, not ours.
Breloom materialized on his side of the battlefield, bouncing lightly on its toes and rolling its shoulders with sharp, quick movements. Its mushroom cap bobbed with each breath.
I unclipped Nick's Poké Ball. "You're up, big guy."
He emerged in a burst of red light, dropping into a low, predatory crouch the moment he solidified. His talons dug into the stone, tail curled low and tight behind him. Even Skyla sucked in a breath at the sight of him.
"Round five begin!" the referee called.
Breloom sprang forward, and Nick leapt straight up like gravity had decided he wasn't its problem. His claws snapped onto the lowered cage bars overhead.
For a moment, he hung there like some massive, reptilian nightmare spider.
Then, he swung his weight with far more agility than anything his size should have had.
"Since when can he move like that?!"
Skyla screeched from the stands.
"First time I've seen it."
Breloom tried to meet him midair, launching upward, but Nick hissed and released a Dragon Pulse straight down. The beam hammered into Breloom mid-jump and knocked it into a backward roll across the arena. Nick dropped from the bars, landing in a smooth, low crouch with his tail curling up in front of his body, completely obscuring his eyes.
Breloom pushed itself up, shaking its head.
Nick didn't move.
He slowly unfurled upward as his tail slid aside just enough to reveal his eyes, glowing red.
When he roared, the sound rattled dust from the rafters and physically staggered Breloom backward a step.
Nick growled into my mind. He thinks he's a fighter, but he's not.
What is he to you? I asked cautiously
With a sinister exhale, he uttered one word.
Prey.
Nick surged forward and slammed his fist into the ground. Stone exploded from the impact, but Breloom dodged, springing lightly to avoid the blow exactly as Nick anticipated. The moment its feet left the ground, Nick twisted and whipped his tail into the floor.
The Earthquake cracked through the arena like a lightning bolt. A jagged fissure tore forward along the ground. Breloom landed off-balance on the shaking floor, and its foot slipped into the fissure for a fraction of a second.
It was enough time for Nick to lunge and grab Breloom around the torso with one hand. He lifted it clean off the ground and hurled it into the far wall. The collision struck with a dull, sickening thud. Breloom folded around the stone before dropping limp.
The referee didn't hesitate. "Breloom is unable to battle!"
Skyla exhaled hard. "Holy hell… he didn't even let it attack."
Nick rolled his shoulders with a satisfied rumble.
The bars overhead groaned again as they descended another few feet. The cage grew tighter and more suffocating.
Marshal returned Breloom to its ball with a firm nod, his eyes burning with both pride and challenge.
"You are stronger than your years, Atrea. And your dragon… he understands the heart of this arena."
He reached for his last Poké Ball.
"Only one opponent remains," he said. "Let us see how deep your endurance truly goes."
The final set of bars locked into place overhead, closing the arena into a low steel cage barely ten feet high. Heat radiated from Marshal's side of the field as his last Poké Ball opened. Blaziken emerged in a swirl of roaring flame. The temperature spiked instantly; even Skyla took a step back.
Marshal didn't speak; he only lifted his keystone.
The Mega Evolution glow snapped around Blaziken like a chain of white fire. Light expanded, hardened, and burst.
When the flare cleared, Mega Blaziken stood in its place, taller, hotter, surrounded by a corona of flame that made the stone floor blister.
Dakashi rose from my shadow with a sigh. Of course, his last one tries to cook the room.
The referee raised his hand. "Final round begin!"
Mega Blaziken shot forward immediately, a comet of living flame. It drew its arm back, muscles bulging beneath molten feathers.
Superpower.
The punch connected, and Dakashi exploded into black mist.
The shadows on the floor rippled.
Then Blaziken's own shadow peeled off the ground, rising upright behind him like a creature slipping free of its host. Dakashi emerged like a being sculpted by the darkness itself.
Before Blaziken could move, Dakashi wrapped both arms around its head. One hand clamped over its eyes, while the other sealed its beak shut.
Shhhhh, he whispered ominously.
Blaziken choked, suddenly blinded and smothered. Its body spasmed violently, legs buckling until it collapsed to one knee.
But Dakashi froze when a spark ignited beneath his palms.
Huh?
It was the only thing he could say before Blaziken's entire torso erupted in a sudden blast of heat far hotter and faster than any Flamethrower. Dakashi screamed and was hurled off its back by the explosion, thrown across the arena as embers scattered.
He hit the ground in a singed heap.
Shit! He snarled, shaking off burning patches of his form.
Mega Blaziken was already on him again. Flames coiled around its fists as it lunged and reached for his collar, but his quarry vanished before he could connect.
Dakashi reappeared across the room, forming out of a distant shadow like smoke becoming solid, already charging a pulse of crushing, concentrated darkness.
The Dark Pulse struck before it could dodge.
Blaziken crossed its arms in front of its chest to block. The reflexive move held, but barely cut the damage. The force began to drive it backward until one knee hit the ground again, talons scraping against stone.
Marshal's voice boomed. "Stand!"
Blaziken tried. It rose a few inches, shaking and struggling, but still burning bright.
Dakashi's eyes narrowed.
I'm done letting it cook me.
He threw out both palms and unleashed a final attack, a torrent of shining blue-white energy, so cold it almost screamed.
It was an Ice Beam, no doubt, but this one lacked the surgical precision he used against lesser foes. This was like an entire storm focused into one beam. The temperature crashed so fast that my breath fogged.
Mega Blaziken's flames flared violently as the beam hit. I could tell that Marshal believed his ace's flame could burn through this cold. I knew better.
Sure enough, the flames sputtered and died as ice began to crawl up Blaziken's arms. It spread to Blaziken's torso, locked its joints, and smothered the fire. Frost raced up over its mask, across its crest, and sealed solid.
Mega Blaziken stood frozen in mid-motion, entombed in blue crystal.
The referee stepped forward, raising both flags.
"Mega Blaziken is unable to battle! The winner is Atrea Morgan!"
Skyla rushed over and grabbed me in a tight, shaking hug. "You did it, Atrea!
Marshal returned his frozen partner with quiet respect, nodding toward Dakashi and then to me.
The steel cage above us unlocked and began to rise, the oppressive weight easing as fresh air rolled back into the arena. Sweat cooled on my skin as I recalled the last of my team.
Marshal remained where he was.
He watched the final Poké Ball click shut before walking toward the center of the battlefield.
His expression had changed.
"You remind me of a former student of mine."
That caught me off guard.
"Why does that not sound like a compliment?"
Marshal didn't answer. Instead, he continued as though I hadn't spoken.
"He possessed extraordinary discipline, and the bond he shared with his Beartic was unlike anything I'd ever seen."
He paused, and I could have sworn I caught the faintest shudder pass through him.
"His partner seemed to carry enough rage for both of them."
Marshal's gaze drifted toward the stone floor.
"When I learned what the two of them had lost... I should have ended our training then and there."
His jaw tightened.
"But I was young and naive. I believed I could heal him."
A long silence settled over the arena.
"I was wrong, and it cost me a close friend."
Skyla tilted her head.
"What happened?"
"We sparred. Nothing I hadn't done a thousand times before. But when it was over, I recalled my Machamp, having won the battle."
His voice became distant.
"Then it got back up."
A chill prickled across my arms.
"Beartic moved before either of us could react."
Marshal closed his eyes for a moment.
"It caught my Machamp before the return beam reached him and tore him apart."
The silence stretched.
"And your student?"
Another pause.
"He just stood there and watched."
A chill ran up my spine.
No one spoke.
Finally, I broke the silence.
"You said I reminded you of him."
It wasn't a question.
Marshal nodded once.
"You possess a stronger bond with your Pokémon than anyone I've encountered, Atrea."
His eyes drifted to the six Poké Balls hanging from my belt before settling on my shadow.
"The bond between trainer and Pokémon is one of the greatest gifts this world has to offer."
His gaze lingered on my shadow for only a heartbeat longer.
"Ensure that the darkness you keep close does not threaten the woman you become."
Without another word, he straightened his posture.
The cage overhead finished rising as he turned back toward the weathered stone slab he'd been striking when we'd first entered.
"Your fourth gauntlet awaits in the next arena."
He raised his fists once more.
"Grimsley will push you harder than any of us."
The first punch echoed through the chamber.
"He always does."
Skyla and I stepped out of Marshal's chamber together. My hands were shaking. A mix of adrenaline, victory, and exhaustion. Skyla squeezed my shoulder once and guided me back toward the center of the crossroads.
"Hey," she murmured, "don't stop now. One more. You've got this."
The final path stretched ahead of us, its walls carved from polished obsidian.
Only one door remained.