30 Chapter 30

Emmet's eyes snap open, greeted by the dawn light pouring through the windows of the Pokemon Center. He stretches, feeling his joints pop back to life. Today's big. Leaf's gonna face off against Erika for that Rainbow Badge. But first, he's got his own errand. A private one. Not worth troubling Leaf over. Hell, he doesn't even expect it to take long; probably be done before Leaf's back from the gym, celebrating her win or nursing a bruised ego.

Throwing on his clothes and gathering his stuff, he makes his way to the front desk. "Thanks," he mutters to Nurse Joy, snapping the Pokeballs into his belt loops. As he steps outside, the morning air hits him—cool and crisp, but tinged with a nasty whiff. Probably those Grimers that roam around cities, eating all dirt and garbage before disappearing into the sewers.

The sun's still stretching, and so is Emmet. This little side quest of his is kinda stupid, if he thinks about it. An Eevee in a Pokeball just sitting in some forgotten mansion? That's video game logic for ya. But part of him can't shake the notion. What if it's true? So, he's out here to do some exploring, separate fiction from reality.

Celadon's huge—way bigger than its pixelated counterpart. Three Pokemon Centers in total, can you believe it? Emmet's picked the one closest to the route to Saffron, figuring that'll give him the best shot at finding this so-called mansion. So now he's trying to spot a path or something, anything that'll lead him to those fabled Celadon Condominiums.

He rounds the Pokemon Center and stops dead in his tracks. A wall. A freaking wall, just two meters high but enough to halt him. "Well, fuck," he mutters, his eyes narrowing. First hurdle, and it's literally a wall.

Approaching the wall, he takes a closer look. It's a fresh build; the paint still has that new shine. No cracks or chips from weather wear. He notices a couple of small paw prints—maybe from a Meowth?—and a few patches of ivy already daring to climb it. Someone's been maintaining this thing.

Emmet brings out his Pokeball and releases his Pidgeot. "Hey, buddy, up for a quick flyover? I need to scope out the area."

Pidgeot coos in response, a heartfelt "Pidgeooooot!" resonating through the crisp air. Seems like he's up for the task.

Emmet chuckles, mounting Pidgeot with ease. He grips the Pokemon's strong feathers, which feel sturdy enough to keep him balanced in the air.

Taking a deep breath, Emmet gives Pidgeot a gentle kick. The bird lets out an exuberant screech and launches into the sky, wings flapping powerfully against the morning air.

As they ascend, Emmet makes the rookie mistake of looking down. A jolt of vertigo hits him, and he tightens his grip on Pidgeot's feathers. But as the wind whips through his hair, he gains the courage to lift his head and look forward. What he sees leaves him breathless.

Celadon from the sky is astonishing—the early sun bathes the sprawling city in golden light, rooftops and greenery merging into an intricate tapestry. It's a sight to behold, and one he never thought he'd get to see in this lifetime.

Finally relaxing his grip, Emmet pats Pidgeot affectionately. "Thanks, buddy. This is... wow. Thank you for sharing this with me."

The moment is a short-lived respite, but sometimes those are the most important ones. For now, the personal errand fades to the background, eclipsed by the sheer majesty of the world seen from above. With that thought, Emmet smiles, cherishing the beauty of the moment as they soar over Celadon City.

Emmet's fingers dig into Pidgeot's feathers, struggling to hold his balance as the wind gusts past them. "Pidgeot, let's swoop down a bit, near the Pokemon Center. Slow it down," he shouts, making sure to articulate each word so it's not lost to the wind.

Pidgeot lets out a sharp "Pidge!" in response, as if acknowledging the command. Suddenly, Emmet feels a drop in altitude, sending his stomach into his throat. "Holy—!" he screams, clutching Pidgeot's feathers tightly. Any evidence of that girlish shriek, he decides, will be vehemently denied for the rest of his days.

After a few minutes of mentally berating Pidgeot, Emmet steels himself and returns to his original mission. Spotting the Pokemon Center that he'd used as his original landmark, he then shifts his gaze to the sprawling forest beyond the wall he'd encountered earlier. "Okay, let's focus," he mumbles to himself, scanning the sea of trees below them.

Pidgeot circles the area a couple of times, making low passes over the treetops. Then Emmet spots it: an overgrown path winding through the dense foliage. He nudges Pidgeot gently, pointing toward the path. "There. Follow that." Pidgeot nods, seemingly comprehending the urgency, and adjusts its course to trace the meandering trail below.

Thanks to Pidgeot's Keen Eye, they track the path as it weaves its way through the forest, even when to Emmet it appears to be completely swallowed by the greenery below. A couple of times, Pidgeot circles above a certain area, its head swiveling this way and that, like it's lost the trail. But each time, the bird gets back on track, diving down to follow the route once again.

Finally, Emmet realizes they're near the outskirts of Celadon, the forest giving way to civilization separated by another redundant wall. The path below becomes increasingly choked by towering trees, their canopies merging into an almost impenetrable roof. "Alright, Pidgeot, this looks like a good spot. Let's land over there, in that clearing," Emmet instructs, pointing to a small gap in the greenery.

Emmet dismounts as Pidgeot alights in the small clearing, his feet crunching on fallen leaves as they hit the ground. He gives Pidgeot one last pat on the feathers. "Thanks for the flight, buddy. Return for now." With a red flash, Pidgeot is back in its Pokeball, and Emmet readies himself to venture down the path, wondering what—or who—he might find.

Emmet reaches for his belt, grabbing multiple Pokeballs. With a flick of the wrist and a burst of red light, Sylveon, Firefly, and Primeape appear. Feebas and Pidgeot aren't exactly built for woodland treks, so they stay behind, safe in their Pokeballs. He decides to keep Clefairy inside to save her energy, can't have the team's healer in harms way.

"We're exploring just north of Celadon," Emmet tells his team, pointing into the thick woods. "The path's almost swallowed up by nature, so I need you guys to help me stay on track. Also, keep an eye out for anything weird or dangerous."

Each Pokemon nods in understanding. Primeape falls in right beside Emmet, eyes darting around like he's expecting a fight. Firefly takes the lead, her tail flame lighting the way, while Sylveon drifts a bit behind, casting an ethereal glow.

The deeper they go, the more Emmet questions the worth of this little adventure. He's not expecting to find a hidden gym or a pile of rare candies, but a nagging feeling tells him there's something here worth discovering. Still, he fights the impulse to turn back.

Emmet glances at his watch. Nearly an hour's passed since he left the Pokemon Center. Just as he's about to call it quits, an odd sensation runs down his spine, making the hairs on his arm stand up.

"Did you guys feel that?" he mutters, catching Firefly and Primeape's eye. They seem oblivious. But a glance over his shoulder reveals Sylveon's ribbons fluttering erratically. "Sylveon, you felt it too, didn't you?"

Sylveon lets out a short, anxious "Syl!" At this, Firefly and Primeape halt. "Okay, something's definitely off. Eyes peeled, everyone. And stay close." The two Pokemon inch closer to Emmet and become more vigilant, their eyes scanning the foliage, ears perked for any unnatural sounds.

Everyone's on edge, tense as a taut fishing line. Then it hits again, that second eerie wave, like a cold breeze passing right through him. At the same moment, Primeape shoves him hard to the side. Emmet barely registers the dark shape of a Shadow Claw slashing through the air where he just stood.

Primeape's fists crackle, an electric blue glow wrapping around them like a storm forming. There's a snap in the air as he lunges, Thunder Punch connecting with something in the shadows.

Emmet's still off balance from Primeape's push. He didn't catch a glimpse of the attacker, but the distinct cry of "Haun!" coupled with the electric crackle of the Thunder Punch leaves no doubt. They've got a Haunter on their hands.

The Haunter is sent spiraling towards Firefly, who's already got her mouth wide open. A searing blue flame roars out, enveloping the ghost. Dragon Breath, potent and relentless, engulfs the Haunter in a pyre of its own misfortune.

As the Haunter's wails cut through the forest air, Emmet feels no guilt. His experience in Mt. Moon taught him that when a wild Pokemon decides to attack a human, hesitation can be fatal. This is about survival, not sport.

With a last screeching "Haunter!", the specter disintegrates into a puddle of goopy, purple mush. "Cut it, Firefly!" Emmet orders. She clamps her mouth shut, the torrent of flame extinguishing instantly.

All that's left is a charred smear of purple on the forest floor and a patch of ground still glowing from Firefly's Dragon Breath. The air feels lighter; that omnipresent dread has lifted. But Emmet knows better than to drop his guard now.

"Good save, Primeape. You probably just saved my life," Emmet says, patting the fighting Pokemon on its fuzzy head.

"Primeape! Primeape!" Primeape lifts his arms in triumph, a guttural shout proclaiming his victory.

Emmet looks at Firefly and nods. Words aren't needed. She grins, sharp teeth glinting in the scant light, and nods back before turning her gaze back to the path ahead. A quick glance behind him confirms Sylveon has been busy too, her eyes scanning the surrounding foliage, confident that Firefly and Primeape have the direct threats covered.

As they move on, a looming, dilapidated manor comes into sight. Rusty gates stand like a grim welcome, and the mansion itself looks as if a Pokemon used Hyper Beam from the inside. Half the structure is ripped wide open.

Emmet pauses, hand hovering over the gate latch. That Haunter had been strong; its Shadow Claw was no joke. But Primeape's quick-thinking Thunder Punch paralyzed it just enough for Firefly's Dragon Breath to be the coup de grâce. Is it wise to get inside a manor that somehow was not visible from the air?

He spares a look over his team, everyone seems eager to explore the place despite the bad feeling it let out. Steeling his nerves, he pushes the gate, but instead of swinging open, it crumbles. The sound echoes like a death rattle through the overgrown garden and the shattered remains of the manor.

Everyone tenses, eyes scanning the dark windows and gaping holes in the mansion's walls. Five minutes crawl by. No Pokemon. No movement. So Emmet gestures to move on.

Halfway to the mansion, Emmet spots something on the ground. As he bends down for a closer look, guarded by the attentive gazes of his Pokemon, he recoils.

"Damn. This can't be real," he mutters, staring at the ground littered with busted, rusted Pokeballs and a desiccated human corpse.

"Sylveon?" The fairy Pokemon nudges closer, her voice tinged with confusion.

"This place has been empty for at least a couple decades, Sylveon. Whatever this is should've been long gone, either decomposed or dragged off by other Pokemon," Emmet explains, his voice tinged with disbelief.

He scans the surroundings, spotting more preserved corpses—Pokemon and human alike. "How is any of this still here?" he thinks, increasingly unnerved.

It hits him then: the absolute silence. Other than the noises they're making, there's nothing. No wind, no rustle of leaves, no distant cries of wild Pokemon. A chill races down his spine.

"We need to get the hell out of here, now!" Emmet exclaims, his face twisted in urgent alarm as he faces his Pokemon.

Just as he issues the command, a surge of ghostly energy engulfs them. Emmet wastes no time, tossing a Pokeball into the air. With a deafening cry, Pidgeot appears.

"Get us out, Pidgeot!" he shouts. But as Pidgeot swoops in to grab him, a swarm of Gastlys erupt from the shadows, forcing the bird Pokemon to veer off course, narrowly dodging ethereal assaults.

"Ah, fuck, this is bad," Emmet mutters, tossing a Pokeball into the air. Clefairy materializes, her eyes darting around as if she just landed in a war zone.

"Clefairy, listen, I need you to center yourself. Use Calm Mind and keep an eye on the perimeter. Primeape, remember that time you almost blasted Venusaur with that crazy move when you were pissed? That's Rage Fist. Unleash it here, but pace yourself. We've got a hell of a lot of spooks to deal with. If you're not feeling it, stick to Thunder Punch, got it?"

Emmet's eyes dart to Firefly, who's clawing through a trio of Haunters with Metal Claw and Dragon Claw. "Firefly, what are you doing? Go wide, hit 'em with Inferno! And if you start to tire out, switch to Heat Wave!"

Swiveling his attention to Sylveon, he catches her mid-Psychic. "Sylveon, keep doing what you're doing, but try to sprinkle in some Calm Minds when you can. Once you've got that mental muscle going, swap out Psychic for Confusion on the weaker ones to save some juice."

Firefly's eyes tighten, and she's a furnace ready to burst. With a guttural roar, Inferno billows from her mouth, incinerating the space around her. The Haunters let out unearthly wails. They try to fade into the shadows, but it's a no-go. One after the other, they're engulfed in her all-consuming fire, their ghostly forms crumbling like ashes on a hearth. Her tail flame roars to life, bigger and brighter.

Primeape's feeling it now. He clenches his fists, swinging with primal abandon. The first Rage Fist isn't spot-on; he's like a rookie trying to handle a seasoned pitcher's curveball. But with each Gastly that meets its end, the technique refines. Could be the EM working its quick-learn magic, could be gut instinct. Doesn't matter. He's tuning in.

Another Gastly takes its shot, lunging through the air. This time, Primeape lands it—a Rage Fist that's the epitome of technique and power. A blinding burst of energy detonates, and what's left of the Gastly is just floating remnants. Primeape roars, almost gleeful. His kill count's ticking up—ten, fifteen, he's losing count.

But then Emmet catches it—a flicker of red in Primeape's eyes. A warning light on a dashboard that you don't want to see. Primeape's skating on the edge, and EM be damned, there's only so long before he might cross that line.

Emmet presses his lips together, wrestling with the dilemma. He could step in, but that might mess with the momentum. Right now, they're holding their ground, can't screw that up. For better or worse, Primeape's got to navigate his own fury.

Sylveon's in her own groove. A flurry of graceful movements as Psychic attacks send shockwaves through the air. She's not playing around; her eyes lock onto each target with unwavering focus. The Calm Minds are stacking up, and it's making all the difference.

For the Ghost Pokemon, it's a massacre. Each Psychic Sylveon churns out is like a wrecking ball through a house of cards. Gastlys try to materialize, but they're cut short. Before they can even shape those eerie smiles, they're swallowed by the vortex of her psychic power, obliterated.

Emmet surveys the scene. They've whittled down the numbers, but this show's far from its finale. Primeape's teetering on the edge, wrapped up in his Rage Fist cycle. Firefly's winded, smoky exhaust curling from her snout. Sylveon's still going, but he can see she's nearing her cap.

Another surge of Ghost Pokemon boil out of the shadows like a swarm of angry Beedrills. Emmet clenches his fists. His crew's giving it all they got, but so is the enemy. The match isn't called yet. But for this moment, this breath of time, they're the ones with the advantage.

Emmet's team gets a break that's shorter than a Jigglypuff's lullaby. New wave of Ghosts swarms in like a bad sequel. He's back to square one, hollering pointers to keep his Pokemon coordinated. "Sylveon, left! Firefly, behind you!"

Primeape's becoming a liability, his crumbling sanity tearing holes in their defense. The gaps widen, and Gastlys slither through, like they've found a secret passage. They almost reach Emmet, but Clefairy jumps in swatting them away with a Disarming Voice. Emmet thinks about those mummified remains they found earlier and shudders. That could've been him. That can still be him.

Emmet turns to Clefairy. "Can you shoot a Heal Pulse from here? Even if it's weaker?"

Clefairy nods, understanding. "Use Heal Pulse," Emmet instructs, "but channel it through Fairy Energy, not Psychic. Might give us a fighting edge." The idea's a gamble. Fairy energy kicks the natural healing process into overdrive, which is the natural process that strengthens people and Pokemon, but combined with EM, maybe it'll supercharge their stamina and power just enough. Could be the game-changer they need.

His eyes dart upwards. Pidgeot's up there, tangling with skyborne Ghosts. The sky's too packed for a safe exit strategy, but at least his Pidgeot's holding his own. The bird's doing okay, maybe even better than the ground troops. It's not a win, but right now, Emmet will take what he can get.

He momentarily thinks about returning Pidgeot and releasing it again closer to himself, but he has the feeling that they are all under a Mean Look, which would not only make the return action fail but could potentially distract Pidgeot.

"PRIMEAPE!" Primeape lets out a ferocious roar, drowning out the chaos around him. The raw emotion surges through the Aura bond he shares with Emmet, hitting the trainer like a sucker punch. It's so intense, Emmet winces, momentarily staggered.

His eyes scan the field, landing on Primeape locked in combat with a Gengar. He pales. The sight of a Gengar always sends chills down a trainer's spine. These Pokemon are notorious, soul-leeching nightmares. They require constant monitoring for a reason; one slip, and you're not just losing a battle, you're losing your mind.

Primeape's at a disadvantage, his fists passing through Gengar like mist. But the monkey isn't entirely useless. He lands a hit here and there with his Rage Fist. Still, it's clear he's outmatched.

A quick sweep shows Emmet's other Pokemon are occupied. Sylveon's making the most headway, knocking Ghost Pokemon down like bowling pins. But it would take her at least a couple more minutes to wrap things up and help Primeape. Minutes they might not have.

He reaches for his PokeGear and Pokedex, but they're as useless as paperweights right now. Some kind of jamming signal. No way to call for backup. And abandoning any of his team is not an option. They get out together or not at all.

Emmet's eyes flick to Firefly, Sylveon, and Pidgeot. They're holding their ground, adapting to the enemy's moves with an agility he's never seen before. It's clear that EM is giving them a real edge here, letting them adapt quicker, fight smarter, and conserve energy like never before.

Primeape's scream cuts through the air, and this one's different. It's a scream of pain, not anger. Gengar's landed a Shadow Punch that's hit its mark. "Hang in there, buddy! You've got this!" Emmet shouts, trying to send some strength through their Aura bond.

The tide turns against Primeape. It's no longer just dodging and futile strikes. Gengar's combo of Shadow Punches rain down on him. Whenever Primeape tries to get some distance, a Dark Pulse blasts him back into range, keeping him off balance.

"Hey, Clefairy, divert the Heal Pulse to Primeape," Emmet orders. "The rest of them can hold their own for now." Clefairy nods, her tiny hands glowing pink as she redirects her healing energy. Maybe, just maybe, it'll be enough to turn the tide.

Firefly isn't playing around. She blasts a Haunter with her Flamethrower, reducing it to ashes in seconds. The rest of the Ghost Pokemon pause, hovering in indecision. "Thinking of running?" she seems to say as she stomps the ground, and lets loose a Fire Spin that traps her floating foes in a fiery vortex. No second chances. She tops it off with a Heat Wave, roasting them in their spectral cage.

As her Fire Spin and Heat Wave combo wraps up, the Ghost Pokemon disappear, their otherworldly screams echoing as they go. Firefly roars, her eyes ablaze with triumph. No ghosts are gonna mess with her, not today.

"Firefly! Pidgeot needs some backup! Light 'em up!" Emmet yells across the battlefield.

Firefly cranes her neck, spotting Pidgeot tussling with a pair of Haunters in the sky. She takes a deep breath and aims. A jet of flame erupts from her maw, streaking towards the sky. Pidgeot dives, dodging the incoming inferno, but the Haunters aren't so lucky. Incinerated. Now, Firefly and Pidgeot start picking off the remaining airborne ghosts, each covering the other's blind spots.

Sylveon's got her own mess to clean up. Her Draining Kiss is the Grim Reaper for these Ghost Pokemon. Gastly and Haunter alike get their life force sucked dry, and Sylveon's looking fresher after each takedown.

Emmet takes it all in and shouts, "Sylveon, Primeape needs you. Go, now!" She locks eyes with him for just a second, reading the urgency in his face.

Sylveon doesn't waste a heartbeat. She bursts into a Quick Attack, darting towards the embattled Primeape and the sadistic Gengar. Her eyes shimmer with Fairy energy as she prepares a move to save Primeape.

Emmet watches all this, a glimmer of hope returning. But then he sees it—Primeape on the ground, shielding itself from a Gengar that's ready to go in for the kill. His heart sinks. He tries to return him. It fails, they are indeed under a Mean Look.

"Sylveon, go help Primeape, hurry!" Emmet's shout is tinged with desperation. Sylveon hears him over the chaos, her eyes locking onto the grim scene.

Wasting no time, she uses Quick Attack to close the gap. Her eyes shimmer with Fairy energy, gathering the strength for a powerful Dazzling Gleam.

Gengar's laugh is like a death knell. Its Shadow Claw sinks into Primeape's gut, and Emmet feels the life draining out of his Pokemon through their Aura bond. Time seems to slow down, each tick of the clock a potential death sentence for Primeape.

"NO!" Emmet howls, sprinting towards Primeape as Sylveon lets out a howl of anger and body smashes at Gengar at the same time as it lets out the Dazzling Gleam, sending Gengar careening. Beside him, Clefairy is a mess, tears streaming down her face as she pumps her Heal Pulse with everything she's got. She can't stop; she can't move closer, or the connection will break and Primeape can't afford that.

Just as it seems the light is snuffed out from Primeape; just as Emmet feels his connection to Primeape get so thin it is almost imperceptible, all hell breaks loose. The atmosphere shifts, the tension snaps, and then—nothing. It's like the world itself holds its breath. Everything stops.

Then there was light.