Chapter 1.
A Storm is Coming

he salty breeze flowing from the sea was making this sunny afternoon pleasantly warm. The promenade at the sea bank was full of life: citizens hurrying in both sides, tourists walking more leisurely. Sounds of a bustling city were reaching the bank from behind the lush treeline. The sea was brimming with life too, boats of all sizes maneuvering around each other all the way back to the horizon, where the water was touching the sky, perfectly clear save for a few white clouds floating towards the shore.

Everyone was enjoying the sunny day in their own way — but among the crowd there was a pair of kids whose enjoyment ran much deeper, walking while whispering and giggling between each other about something. They were following a pair of adults, but those were so far from their center of attention that that to the kids they were little more than ghostly apparitions, transparent like glass. The girl was around eleven, wearing a dress with a puffy skirt; her head was adorned with a cat ear headband. The boy walking beside her looked a little older and was dressed, in contrast with everybody around, in clothes covering his arms and legs fully. However beautiful the world around them already was, these two were seeing a quite different picture. The two kids were immersed in a wondrous world of beautiful and fearsome creatures. They were seeing them all around — in the water, in the skies, in the trees, walking along the sea bank beside humans: entities of the most fantastical shapes and sizes, each of them possessing its own, unique, but always immense, power. The kids were completely immersed in the world of Pokémon.

The world was so much more colorful to them: sky blue ducks floating in the water, the giant slim doves soaring above, the yellow grubs wrapped in leaves that were rustling in the bushes. An indigo balloon, looking at the world with tortured beady eyes, wrapped its thin string-like arm around the boy’s arm, dangling powerlessly as the children were walking. Seeing each new Pokémon, the kids would whisper to each other and look up the picture on the boy’s new, strange technological wonder: a flat tablet computer, looking like an oversized smartphone. The whole picture looked idyllic, only a single sinister shadow was lurking in the skies.

Driven by a sudden impulse, the boy jumped onto the stone wall of the bank, turning on the tablet’s camera.

“Dear audience!”, he announced, holding the flat device up to the sea and the sky. “Thank you for remembering, thank you for not giving up on us! No matter how much has happened, I have persevered, so get ready for another spectacle!”

Twirling on the wall while the girl was watching on with concern, he kept on shouting into the camera. “Time may pass, we all may change, but Art is eternal! And now that we’re here, we’ll make sure to keep you on the edges of your seats!”

“What do you think you are doing?”, the girl in the cat ear headband squinted, walking up to him. “Preaching to those... Ducklett?”

The flock of funny looking bird Pokémon on the water were all looking at the boy and at each other in confusion.

“Don’t concern yourself with public relations, Neko-chan.” The boy squatted down, leveling his head with the girl’s, and shoved the tablet straight in her face. “You’re the star of the show! Leave the details to me, your job is to blaze through the story and win against all odds! But first, why don’t you tell our dear audience a little about yourself?”

The boy stood up, so the girl was now fully in frame — in a long dress with a white vest over it, her curly hair neatly braided, pose suddenly getting stiffer as the was unsure what to say.

“Hi, everyone,” she waved at the camera, grabbing the plush ears on her headband. “I’m… uhh, Neko-chan.”

“And who are you, Neko-chan?”

As the girl glanced up, a dark shadow swooped down from the skies, circling around the kids. Neko stretched out her right hand, in a fingerless glove, and a small bird Pokémon perched on it: Taillow, a black swallow, small, but with a frightening, mad glint in its eyes. Her companion’s presence made Neko straighten up.

“I’m a Pokémon trainer!”, she proclaimed, putting the arm with her partner closer to the camera. “I’m participating in the Dintera region’s Pokémon League challenge, and my goal is to prove myself as the strongest trainer in the world!”

“Well, you are pretty strong,” the boy nodded, sneering from behind the camera. “But strength isn’t all that there is, remember? Being a good trainer requires strategy and thinking ahead, you can’t just burst through every wall that you see on your adventure.”

“Just watch me!”, Neko chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about, bro, I’ve got both brawn and brains! Throw all you want at me, I’ll overcome it all, my dear Ryan!” Her Taillow chirred and flapped its wings at the boy.

“My name is George! When will you remember?!” The boy coughed, perturbed at the insolence. “And what, do you think our adventures are just obstacles? They’re there to help you grow, to make you a better person!”

“We do it to have fun,” Neko put out her tongue. “And we both have to have fun for a game to be good! Right, Taillow?”

The bird Pokémon spread its wings — and then it suddenly wasn’t there anymore. George blinked, looked up and ducked at the last moment. The Pokémon flew right over his head, grazing his hair with its talons. Neko laughed out loud as Taillow set off to the skies again.

“Oh, why have I bestowed this demon upon you,” the boy muttered, aiming the tablet’s camera at the scoundrel. “I’m serious, you’re too strong for your own good, and it’s getting to your head! But no worries, I’ll make a counterweapon. I’ll show you how important it is to use your head…” The boy stopped recording and pulled up an elaborate multicolored node network on the screen, adding a new element to his cryptic plans.

“Do what you want,” Neko shook her head defiantly, “I’ll keep on being me.” She whistled, and suddenly the tablet disappeared from her brother’s hands. The boy gasped in terror and rage and glared at Neko-chan, who was taking his precious toy — nay, instrument, — from the hellbird’s talons.

“What did I do?!”, George wailed as Taillow began flying in circles around him, taunting him. “Get over here!” Obeying an incomprehensible impulse, George jumped after Taillow — right off the railing and towards the water, dragging his melancholic balloon Pokémon down.

“George, you moron!” Neko gasped, and Taillow dove down after her brother. A second later the boy appeared again, dragged by his own struggling Pokémon by one arm and by Taillow by the other, the small bird barely breaking a sweat. The two creatures set George down beside his sister, who smacked him on the head. Looking back at the kids, the two transparent apparitions shook their heads.

“You started this, not me”, George winced, touching his scratched arm. “Now give me back my tablet.”

“Wait, where is your tablet?..”

Hearing sinister giggling, they both shivered. Under Neko-chan’s legs there was a white candle-shaped Pokémon, burning with a purple flame, holding the tablet in its tiny arms: Litwick, the newest member of Neko-chan’s team.

“Thief!” George screamed so loud that they earned a few more looks from strangers. “Give it back this instant!”

With a mean squeak Litwick set off forward. Pointing at it, George gave Neko a judging stare.

“See what happens when you have things your way? Chaos! Come on, Drifloon, do your job.”

Begrudgingly sighing and deflating a little because of that, the balloon Pokémon closed its beady eyes and vanished. Litwick yelped when it appeared in front of it and smacked it with its thin arms, taking the tablet away. The candle Pokémon spat fire in its face, grumbling like an angry kid.

“Good job.” After his Drifloon floated back to him, the boy pet it on the cheek and winced at how hot the balloon’s rubbery skin was. “Neko, control your monsters!”

“The only monster here is me”, the girl responded with a wide grin, definitely enjoying the chaos.

Hearing an otherworldly voice that made their hair stand up, George and Neko-chan turned to the glassy figures that were calling them over. Forgetting their argument, the kids ran after them, Litwick scurrying behind its Trainer. Taillow set off to the skies again, its screech making all the bird Pokémon in the vicinity change their course to avoid it.

The promenade ended in a small round square. In the middle of it a bronze statue stood: a man with a Stoutland, an imposing terrier Pokémon that was as tall as the man’s shoulders. The pedestal was adorned with multicolored mosaic, giving the serious sculpture a light-hearted air. The stone buildings around the square were elegant, but massive and bulky. Everyone around Neko-chan and her brother looked relaxed and cheerful, the citizens dressed in bright-colored clothes — but Neko felt an uneasy contrast in all this.

“How beautiful is this!” George gave her a bump in the side. “Look, the famous rainbow mosaic of Sanna City! I read on the Internet that it symbolizes all the different residents of the city and how their individual strengths work together in harmony! Aren’t you just overjoyed to be in the presence of such marvelous Culture?”

“The buildings look like castles”, Neko muttered. “Look, they even have these little turrets on top...”

“Hm”, George squinted somewhere far away. “Well, I guess I can understand why you are interpreting it like this. But just so you know, Sanna proudly has its doors open for everyone, no matter who, and everyone coexists peacefully here! What use would a castle be here?”

“Is that what they said on the Internet?”, Neko frowned.

“Hey, is this our tram?”

It arrived swiftly and made no noise, but the car was stylized like it was made last century, in bronze and wood, with leather seats and lights stylized like gas lamps on the interior. As soon as George gave Neko the courtesy and let the lady board first, she pushed him aside and took the window seat.

The old-looking tram was steadily moving in the middle of a large boulevard. Rows of trees were surrounding them on both sides, foliage so thick that Neko could easily imagine them riding in the middle of the forest — which only strengthened her impression that the roofs she saw behind the treeline looked like castles. Pokémon were everywhere, some of them even looked wild — but they were moving around just as calmly as the humans. Neko presumed that this was the harmony that George was talking about. Everywhere in this city she was feeling an intelligent order — the unnoticeable rhythm that the tram was stopping and moving in, the regularity that the different buildings and streets were arranged in... The whole city looked like it was built with an intentional plan. Neko glanced at George to see if he was noticing it too — and found him excitedly typing on his tablet. How ungrateful! What, does he think they will spend forever here?! Neko slapped her brother on the shoulder.

“You were just blabbering about culture, but now your own thoughts are more interesting? Instead of writing down another sick fantasy, better give the tablet to me”, she chid her annoyed brother. “I could’ve played something.”

Brakes screeching, the tram ground do a halt mid-turn. Her cheek squished against the window, Neko's eyes lit up as she sensed a commotion. She saw it right away: a giant, multicolored crowd taking up an entire broad boulevard, people and Pokémon having set up camp, surrounded by protest signs like small trees. Even though individually everyone looked peaceful and most even relaxed, Neko felt a militant tension in the air. The camping protesters were not the one who made the tram stop, though; down the boulevard, right on the tracks, a giant protest parade was marching, everyone chanting so loudly and disorganized that it was indiscernible.

The encampment looked peaceful and even cheerful: Neko saw a portable kitchen, some people were gathered in a half-circle around a young woman giving a speech, there were even children on the playground that was right in the middle of the camp. Neko grinned at the sight of a couple bipedal furry Pokémon effortlessly carrying planks and bricks somewhere around the protestors. If this city had Pokémon this strong, surely she would find some for herself here. Hearing George gasp, Neko followed his gaze and saw another pedestal with rainbow mosaic. This one did not have a statue on it, not anymore, at least. The bronze legs were still in place, up to the ankle, but the rest was apparently melted off by a Fire-type Pokémon. Neko snickered, then noticed the outrage in her brother's eyes.

The bus driver shouted some unpleasant words at the protestors and opened the doors. Grumbling, the passengers all got up and left: some walked against the crowd along the tracks, a few joined the protest. Following the two ghostly figures and George, looking still as appalled, Neko left too. George even forgot to give her his hand as she was going down the steps.

Guided by the two ghostly figures, they went against the current under the white sky, the protestors’ voices assaulting Neko-chan’s senses so she couldn’t discern what they were chanting. She saw some signs like

We know better what to do!

Your problems, our consequences!

We demand a fair council!

— but, unfortunately, there was no sign that would concisely and briefly explain what was being protested. Everyone looked rather cheerful, even though the protest seemed serious; someone was handing out candy, and Neko took a piece. George was walking behind her, hurrying her up.

“Hey, hey, Pokémon trainers!” The crowd parted, giving way to a young woman in a sharp-angled white T-shirt with a tie and black pants, running towards Neko and George with threatening resolve. Behind her a large rodent Pokémon was trailing, almost as tall as Neko-chan, with long teeth and yellow stripes across its body resembling a reflective vest.

“I'm Claire, here representing the People's Herald,” the young woman bowed and adjusted her glasses. “It's so nice of you to join our protest today! If I may ask, what prompted you to get so compassionate with our cause?”

Neko gulped as the journalist shoved a tape recorder in her face, smiling earnestly. “I, umm... thank you! It's just... we were just passing by, sorry!” Neko raised her hands apologetically. “But you know, if you would be so kind as to tell us why you all are gathered here, I'm sure we would find compassion towards you!”

“Neko, there’s nothing to understand.”

George suddenly stepped in, walking right up to the young woman, his mouth right against her recorder. “Pray tell me, dear journalist, that is this?” He pointed at the melted off legs of the statue. “What reason could there be to destroy Cultural Legacy? What are those?” He waved at the graffiti covering the walls of nearby buildings. “And who gave you the right to disrupt the way of public transport?”

The journalist hiccupped, straightening her ponytail. Her Pokémon squinted at George with its yellow eyes.

“Well, if I were to explain everything in brief...”

“There is no reason for anybody to destroy Art and desecrate Culture!” George stomped his foot. “If you were to ask for my opinion, and you just did, you all are just a bunch of barbarians here! Let’s go, Neko,” he grabbed his sister by the sleeve, “before they try to rob us over here.”

As her brother was dragging her away, Neko could only hope that the disheartened reporter could see the expression of pure guilt on her face.

“What was that?!” As soon as George carried Neko far enough, she smacked him on the head. “Why are you so angry? Have you forgotten how to behave?”

“They forgot it!”, George retorted. “And no, I don’t get angry, by the way; that’s your thing! I’m surprised you’re so calm after witnessing all this. Don’t you care about History, and Art, and Legacy of the Past? How can they deface it so barbarically just out of protest?..”

“Don’t you think that the present is more important?”, Neko muttered as they were walking up the stairs after the two glassy figures, surrounded by wild-looking trees.

“No, not really,” George barked without even turning.

Having gotten up the stairs, they both gasped in awe. A sprawling park opened up before them; huge trees were arranged in a rectangular grid, their leaves covering up the cloudy sky. The park was almost empty this time of day; Neko only heard the rustling of leaves and the whisper of the wind high above, and the cries of children playing somewhere far away. The rustling in the bushes made the two kids alert: there were Pokémon nearby.

“We’ll have to cross the park to get to the Pokémon Center,” George said, rubbing his hands. “Let’s hurry. My smartphone says that it’s going to rain soon.”

They went down the gravel path, stepping quietly. Neko was squeezing a Poké Ball in her hand. In the distance they saw people and Pokémon relaxing, but close by there was not a soul. As they were approaching an incline with a sports court below it, Neko suddenly heard rustling in the bushes just a few steps away. Stopping her brother with her hand, she threw her Poké Ball on the ground.

“Kya-a-a!”

With a terrifyingly adorable battle squeak out of the Poké Ball appeared Oshawott, a chubby otter Pokémon with a sharpened scallop in its left paw. Ready for battle, it leaped into the bushes and landed with its whole body onto... a human boy’s face.

“Hey, what’s this supposed to be?!”

Neko yelped and grabbed her braids with both her hands, horrified at how badly she had messed up. A blue light enveloped Oshawott, and the confused Pokémon floated away from the boy’s face, held up by a mystical force. The boy stood up straight — looking younger than Neko, with fuzzy black hair and inquisitive black eyes, dressed in grey school uniform and wearing a heavy backpack. Right after him a weird small Pokémon stepped out of the bushes, looking like a purple doll in a black leotard with white bows all over. The Pokémon was staring at Oshawott with its glowing eyes, holding it up with the power of its mind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”, Neko shouted, clasping her palms before her face and bowing face down. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the boy snickered, shrugging off. His Pokémon carefully set down Oshawott onto the ground and now squinted at the girl. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m telling you!”, he raised his hands, seeing how Neko was still bowed down. “I see you’re Pokémon trainers? Here for the League challenge?”

“That’s right!” George nodded and gave his hand to the boy, giving Neko a slight slap to the side in the process. “We are from Celerani! I’m George, and this is Neko-chan.”

“Neko-chan,” the grade schooler snorted. “Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Neko slowly straightened up, fixing up her dress and still avoiding looking him in the eye.

“My name is Rico, I’m from here!”, the boy proudly announced, stretching out his hand towards her. “Is it you going through the challenge? Which badges you got already?”

Neko flipped one side of her white vest, showing off her Star Badge and Ascension Badge.

“That was some route you’ve taken,” the boy whistled, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t even have a Badge from our Gym yet... but maybe you’d like to battle?”

Neko sprang fully up all of a sudden. Hearing the word “battle”, Oshawott took up a fighting stance too. Seeing their reaction, Rico smiled, showing his teeth, and pointed at the other Trainer.

“Neko-chan from Celerani City! I challenge you to a Pokémon battle!”

“I accept!” With a swift gesture Neko flicked both her braids behind her back, suddenly no longer a timid, self-conscious girl, but a bold and brave one. Rico beckoned her and George and went back through the bushes. The three children went down the hill to the sports court. The rest of the park above was separated off by a wall covered in graffiti. The smell of paint was fresh in the air, it looked like one large inscription was fresh.

OUR CITY, OUR LEGACY, OUR RULES

“Well,” patting his sister on the back, George stood at the court’s edge, his back to the graffiti. “Begin!”

“Patrat, let’s show them what we can!” Rico pulled a Poke Ball out of his jacket pocket, and a chubby brown rodent Pokémon appeared, squinting at Neko with its red eyes.

“Patrat, huh.” Neko took her silver and red Pokédex out of her fanny pack.

“Normal type...” Neko giggled menacingly. “Then come out, Litwick!”

“A Ghost type?” The boy in uniform exchanged looks with his Pokémon.

“Good choice!” George nodded with a sly smile. “Patrat’s Normal-type moves won’t be able to hurt a Ghost type at all.”

Neko proudly raised her chin. Litwick appeared before her: its flame was not shining as bright after the tussle with Drifloon, but it looked as mischievous as ever.

“Sand-Attack!” Obeying Rico’s command, the Scout Pokémon turned its back towards Litwick and flicked a cloud of dust in its face with its tail. The candle squinted and began sneezing.

“Insulting!” Neko yelled. “Litwick, use Fire Spin!”

“Chipi-i-i!” The candle breathed purple fire at Partat. The chipmunk tried to dodge it, but the fire string bent to go after it and looped around, surrounding it in a tight ring of flaming tongues. Partat let out a raspy squeak from the unpleasant prickling.

“Litwick isn’t very strong,” Neko spread her hands, at which her Pokémon turned at her with an offended stare, “but we can wear down Patrat! What do we have in your arsenal...”, she sang, pressing buttons on the Pokédex. “Smog? Let’s poison it!”, she grinned.

“Detect!”, Rico commanded. Patrat froze in place, touching its forehead with one paw, and its eyes flashed. Litwick’s flames shone brighter, letting out a cloud of soot that made everyone around cough — but Partat’s stern stare stuck like a wedge in front of it, spreading the incoming cloud, and it didn’t breathe in even a drop of smoke.

“What was that?!” Neko threw her hands in the air.

“A protective move,” her brother showed her his tongue. “Any Pokémon can learn these.”

“Some kind of dark magic,” Neko muttered, her ghost Pokémon chirring in agreement. “Fine, Litwick, just mess it up however you want!”

“Chu!” Litwick saluted to its Trainer and waddled on towards Patrat, still stuck in the defensive pose. The ring of flames was still dancing around it, burning it bit by bit; its ears were turned back towards its Trainer, waiting for a command...

“Crunch!”, Rico suddenly shouted. Partat grinned widely, baring all its teeth — and sank them into the candle. Litwick yelled like it was being cut, splashing liquid wax everywhere. Neko gasped, looking at the Pokédex screen. In a single move the Patrat had exhausted all of her Pokémon’s energy. Litwick fell on its side, muttering quiet curses; its flame went out.

“Hey, how is this possible?!” Neko lashed out at George. “This rat is Normal-type, how dare it bite my little treasure?!”

“Crunch is a Dark-type attack, it is super effective against Ghost types,” George gladly explained, looking really happy at his sister’s mistake. “Pokémon can learn moves of all kinds of types! You always have to keep it in mind.”

“Well, I will.” Sniffling, Neko pressed on her blue Poké Ball to let out a red beam that took Litwick inside the mechanism to rest. “Go forth, Taillow! You mess them all up now!”

With a victorious cry the swallow Pokémon swooped down, flying a centimeter away from Patrat and rising up slightly to circle above the Trainers’ heads. Partat squinted. The ring of purple flames was getting tighter.

“Wing Attack!” Neko didn’t even finish yelling yet, but Taillow dove down, spreading its wings wide. Rico yelled out something too, and as soon as Partat took a hit in the belly with Taillow’s wing, stiff as wood, it bit down on it. Both Pokémon squealed from pain. Tucking in the bitten wing, Taillow awkwardly jumped across the court, unable to gain altitude.

“What’s going on? What’s a critical hit?!” Neko shook the Pokédex that was evaluating her Pokémon’s condition less than favorably. “Taillow, use Peck!”

“Detect!”, Rico commanded. Taillow managed to fly up just a little bit and dove down onto Patrat again. The rodent Pokémon was watching it intently, not moving... and as soon as Taillow was about to ram into it, it disappeared, only the stray flames got spread by the wind. Clucking in confusion, the bird Pokémon jumped over the ground again. Patrat appeared two steps to the side, making Taillow caw in astonishment.

“Wing Attack!”

“Crunch!”

Partat took a swipe with its jaws — but Taillow managed to fly up in just a second and attacked it from the side, slapping it with both wings. Quietly squeaking, the chipmunk Pokémon fell on its back, completely exhausted. The flames around it finally burned out. Nodding with a sad smile, Rico launched a red beam from his Poké Ball, taking Partat to rest.

“Well — go, Gothita!”

The purple doll jumped in front of the boy with a melodic squeak. In its hands Neko noticed something pink and shiny. She looked at her brother, expecting an explanation, but he just gave her a thumbs up.

“Taillow, I have a suspicion they’re trying to outplay us,” Neko snuffled. “Come on, use Focus Energy!”

Taillow cawed and spun in the air. Orange aura surrounded it, making all motions of the devious bird more precise and calculated, as if it was not tired at all.

“Gothita, Fake Tears!”

The doll suddenly bawled, heard across the entire park, and the tears that streamed down its cheeks looked pretty real. Neko stared at it in confusion. The bird Pokémon landed, turning its head at the sudden charade.

“Taillow, get it together!”, Neko yelled. “Don’t give in to provocations, use Wing Attack! You show me a critical hit now!”

“Cha-a-a!” Taillow screamed, soaring up again and diving onto Gothita. The doll tried to jump away, but got hit right on the head, making it squeal. Neko’s Pokédex vibrated, and she punched the air in triumph.

“Gothita, don’t give up!” Rico was squinting, seeing how tough his Pokémon was having it. “It’s time! Psybeam!”

“Kyu-u-u!”

Inhaling with its whole chest, the doll Pokémon shut its eyes and put up the thing it was holding in front of its face: a brilliant pink diamond-cut gem. Neko licked her lips at the sight — and gasped in horror not a second later. Gothita opened its eyes, shining light blue — and a blinding purple beam of light streamed out of them through the sharp end of the gem. Taillow tried to dodge it, but the beam homed in on its head. Quietly chirping, its own eyes shining a sickly purple, Taillow rolled around in the air and fell right at Neko’s feet.

“You too? How?!”, Neko wept.

“Psychic Gem!”, George announced, grinning widely. “Gems are a rare item that can make a Pokémon’s attack one and a half times as strong! How do you like this, Neko? See this, dear readers? Remember this! Wit and careful consideration will always triumph over brute force.”

“I’m a master strategist!” Rico proudly straightened up. “If you want a Gem for yourself, I can give you a tip on where you can get one!”

Gothita repeated its Trainer’s pose, with its tiny hands on its sides. By the Pokemon’s feet pink shards were dissipating into fine dust at Neko’s eyes.

“Come on, give it,” Neko snarled, wiping her hands. “But I’m not done with you yet! Go, Oshawott!”

Proudly smirking, Oshawott waddled on forward and nearly tripped over Taillow splayed on the ground. Neko licked her lips. Victory was in front of her eyes: even without looking into the Pokédex it was obvious that Taillow did a number on the weird doll.

“Razor Shell!”

Oshawott flew towards Gothita, suddenly accelerating to lightning speed, and scratched it with its sharpened scallop. Rico clenched his fists, seeing his Pokémon wince.

"Concentrate! Telekinesis!"

Gothita's eyes shone sky blue again, and Oshawott squeaked in panic, rising into the air once more.

“Oh no, Neko's last Pokémon, completely immobilized! Whatever shall she do?”, announced George for nobody in particular. Neko just gave him a confident smirk.

“It's okay! Water Gun!”

Oshawott took a deep breath and spat out a powerful jet of water. It initially hit the ground half a meter away from Gothita, but Oshawott quickly corrected course. The leotard-clad Pokémon backed away from the jet, first taking a single step, then a couple more — but Oshawott, exerting all its strength, still kept on spitting out water. Gothita squeaked in fear and began running, letting go of its telekinesis. Oshawott fell flat on its belly — and that fall made it suddenly increase the pressure of the water jet, hitting Gothita straight in the back and knocking it off its feet. As Oshawott got up, barely breathing from the overexertion, Gothita kept laying face down on the ground.

“The winner is Neko from Celerani City!” George nodded and slapped his sister on the back, making Drifloon bobble powerlessly in the air. “Like there ever was any doubt.”

“Yeah, you were a worthy match for me!”, Rico nodded, picking Gothita up while giving George the side eye. “I’m the strongest Trainer in my class, you know!”

Neko and George both looked at him, then at each other. Rico suddenly got flustered.

“Anyway, I promised you something!” The boy pulled a business card out of his pocket. Neko took it, and George hummed a short jingle.

In the corner of the card a clown face was scribbled, grinning evilly.

“If you want to get a Gem, just come there!” Rico winked. “Consider this a free coupon. Well... now I think I gotta go. Good luck at the Gym, Neko-chan!”

Rico began climbing back to the incline that he was climbing when Oshawott landed on its face, then stopped and pointed at the wall with the fresh graffiti.

“By the way, did I do a nice job or was it great? Hehe, but shhhh, don’t tell anybody!”

Giggling loudly, the boy went through the bushes and disappeared out of view. George audibly hissed, burning the graffiti with his flaming gaze. Neko picked up her tired Oshawott, wndering if Rico would later tell his classmates that he was the winner.

“He’s a vandal as well?!” George barely could contain his rage. A city of barbarians...

“He’s a good artist,” Neko noted teasingly, making her brother turn at her, scorching her face with his eyes. “I should have asked him about what’s going on here... And what makes you so angry about graffiti of all things?”

“Oh, I’ve had enough!” George began walking again, towards the two ghostly apparitions that were waving at them. “You of all people should know that I don’t get angry, that’s your thing! Let us hurry, we better get to the Pokémon Center before it starts to rain.”

They exited the park to a pedestrian street, looking much older than the ones they have seen so far. The grey clouds were getting thicker and darker with every minute. The children’s steps got quicker as they sensed drops falling onto their hair. The raindrops increased in frequency, and soon it was too wet even under the trees, so George and Neko just ran through the middle of the street. The lanterns went on, but the rain was getting thicker and thicker, soaking the children and not letting them see the way. The castle-like buildings around the street disappeared from view, then the rows of trees; even the streetlights were nothing but pale glowing dots somewhere miles away. The two children were just running forward, following the tailwind — there was nothing more in the world except them, the brick pavement and the impenetrable wall of rain. The business card slipped out of Neko-chan’s pocket and, dancing in the wind, flew in front of them. Somewhere at the horizon a door opened, and the rectangle of orange light started to pull the children in. Heavily breathing, Neko and George reached a fancy porch with an ornate bronze railing. A sign was hanging by the open door:

“Oh, welcome! Please come in, don’t just stand in the rain! You’re right where you need to be.”

A girl was standing in the hallway: around George’s age, she was dressed in a snow white old-fashioned blouse and grey overalls, her long fuchsia hair was in a tight ponytail. Neko and George both gave her a guilty smile and, dripping with a year’s worth of rain, stepped over the porch.