For some people, the worst part of a tournament was the grueling effort it entailed. Anywhere from three to ten matches (depending on format) in a single day, some potentially back to back if you were unlucky. For others, it was the Fidough and Ponyta show that surrounded these events. The constant media coverage, the critical spectators, and the need to carry yourself like you were on a stage at all times all could take a toll on the competitors. For others still, it was the pressure to perform. The nerves that stem from spending all day at a big event, the momentum from which could make or break your whole season.

  For me though, the worst part wasn’t any of these. It was the waiting. A tournament might take eight to ten grueling hours, and a single competitor was only participating for a little more than sixty minutes of that time, give or take. The rest? Waiting.

  What an absolute waste of our time. Pikachu and I could be training, practicing, growing stronger. Tournaments were such a drag. If it were up to me, I’d never bother with these massive time sinks, but tournaments were popular, which meant they provided opportunities to challenge opponents far further up the ladder than my usual rating.

  After all, a much larger range of skill levels were allowed to apply to a tourney, compared to single challenges. Not to mention it brought all the battlers to one convenient, easy to access place.

  So, we had to compete. And we had to wait.

  Idly, I rolled my partner’s ball around in my hand. The other participants in the waiting room were fretting, or projecting bravado, or strategizing until the very last minute, but I couldn’t bring myself to pay attention to any of them. Maybe it was a bit arrogant to think, but they were mostly stones on the road. Not even good for an interesting battle.

  Oh I’d reviewed them all at least once this week, to be sure. And someone could always surprise me. No one had so far, but the possibility undoubtedly existed.

  “You’re on deck,” a tournament official quietly whispered in my direction.

  With a nod and a smile at the woman (no reason to let my mood affect my affect) I stood up, making my way through one of the doors in the waiting room. A short corridor brought me to one of the entrances leading onto the small stadium’s pitch, where another organizer gestured for me to stand out of the way.

  I released my partner, and watched with wry amusement as the spunky Pikachu made a show of stretching her stubby limbs. I knelt down, and held her hands out to her. “Come here. We’ll go over what we know about Beks and her Milcery one more time.” The little Electric-type leapt into my grasp without hesitation, skittering up my arm to take her customary place atop my shoulder.

  With Pikachu freed, the time passed quickly in quiet review. Ten minutes passed, before a resolute young man marched down the corridor, visibly holding back tears. I did my best not to look as he walked by, affording him the same dignity I’d like, were I ever to actually lose. A few minutes after that, the MC finished vamping, and the tournament organizer gestured for me to make my entrance.

  “And joining us from the red corner, please give it up for this year’s mega-rookie, currently undefeated at twenty-six wins and zero losses, it's the electrifying ALYSSA!!!!”

  The commentary barely registered in my mind as I breezed forwards, my AR visor clear and offering an unobstructed view of the small crowd gathered in the stands. Maybe half the seats were full, and the arena wasn’t that large to begin with.

  There just wasn’t that much demand for watching junior circuit matches.

  The crowd was loud at least, making up for their lack of size with the volume of their cheers.

  Idly, I turned my eyes to my opponent, who was just now stepping out of their own corridor. The sight of him wrenched my comfortable surety into blaring, full red-alert.

  That wasn’t Beks Genner, and the Pokémon trailing him was no Milcery.

  “And joining us from the blue corner comes a last-minute sign-up, KILLIAN MERS. This former competitor is rejoining the circuit, working his way up from the very bottom, so please welcome him and his partner Excadrill back for their re-debut match!”

  The people very much did not welcome Killian, nor his partner. Some scattered applause, a small bit of cheering, but mostly surprise and skepticism. The crowd had been taken off-guard by this change, just as I had.

  All the competitors and crowds for these tournaments were usually told what the brackets would look like ahead of time, both to build hype for match-ups, and to keep the playing field level. A late adjustment like this was irregular. Suspiciously so.

  As I watched the sneering man lead his bulky partner up to the pitch, my hunch crystalized into certainty. The human side of the partnership was probably in his late-twenties, maybe even his early thirties, but the Pokémon accompanying him moved without a hint of rust or hesitation. The Ground-type’s claws and horns gleamed with polish, but the sheen did nothing to disguise the rents and scores torn through them, nor the patches of discolored fur. Killian’s partner was used to battle. Used to pushing past his limits.

  These two were no old hands, coming back after a mid-life crisis. They were hardened veterans.

  No. More than that, they were assassins, almost certainly hired for exactly this match.

  The culprit could be anyone. A disgruntled sponsor. An over-funded gambling website.

  My family.

  In the end, it didn’t matter. Someone had sent this man here to stop our winning streak. Someone with the money, and the connections, to force through this obvious farce.

  Judging by the unhappy looks in the crowds, I wasn’t the only one who had figured out the man’s game, but Killian didn’t have a hint of shame on his face as he smirked at us.

  To his obvious surprise, I smiled back, bright and maybe a little too wide. I couldn’t help myself. After all, I’d been worried that today would be boring.

  -

  “Round One! Five… Four… Three… Two… One… Fight!”

  The booming commentary was loud through our ears. Bad enough for the trainer, worse for the partner, with her sensitive hearing.

  We couldn’t let it distract us though. Our foe was already coming. The Digger lived up to his species name sake, diving into the ground like a fish into the ocean.

  Instinct almost took over, ingrained knowledge from generations of Pikachu used to casting about with their sensitive ears for burrowing threats.

  We had better options available though. The trainer opened her eyes, while the partner closed hers. Moving from this ‘third-person’ perspective was hard, but the expanded field of view it gave you was more than worth the effort, and our next move was so practiced, we could do it in our sleep.

  The Digger’s strike came from behind the partner’s turned back. It was a classic use of Dig, and one easily met by an over-the-shoulder front flip, the abrupt motion bringing our glowing tail, powered with Steel-type energy, down on the Digger’s head. The mole’s eyes bugged comically as his face was planted into the stadium ground, but his suffering wasn’t over yet.

  One Brick Break, two, and a final one channeled through the tail. The last hit caught the Digger just as he was freeing himself, and though he blocked it with one steel claw, he was sent staggering back regardless, a feral snarl on his face. Our opponent was more mad than hurt, and he made his displeasure known with a feral scream, even as he came tearing in with a series of brutal Metal Claws.

  Unfortunately for our opponent, while an Excadrill is poetry in motion while underground, its form above the loam was far more ungainly. It was Pichu-play to avoid the clumsy swipes, dipping and ducking under each of the blows until a particularly daring attack left the raging Ground-type overextended.

  The rending claw skittered off of a quick Protect, and then the partner was on our shared foe, taking the offensive with an upswung Iron Tail.

  Our classic opener left the Excadrill open, his arms splayed wide and his eyes watering from the brutal uppercut. We weren’t going to let an opportunity like this go to waste. Channeling as much Fighting-type energy as we could into our fist, we lashed out in a strike beyond a mere Brick Break. The unharnessed energy wasn’t quite a Focus Punch, but it was close enough to make the Digger’s eyes widen in fear and alarm.

  Unfortunately, our charged up attack had taken just a bit too long. We smashed into a quick and desperate Protect, the shimmering green barrier just strong enough to repel us, and by the time the dust cleared from our attack, the Digger had vanished underground once more.

  Our opponents would be taking this more seriously now that they’d experienced partner and trainer’s power first-hand. Or claw.

  Some tense moments passed as the Digger churned through the earth, looking for some sort of opening. The rules dictated that he could only spend so much percentage of a match down there, and he’d already used a fair chunk of that allotment, so the partner held her ground, determined to react just as adroitly as she had before.

  The trainer’s keen eyes caught the movement, churning earth right below the partner. We sprung up, already charging up our tail for a brutal downwards swing, but our attack wasn’t met with any normal Dig.

  No, the Digger’s arms and horn had joined together, and the Ground-type came out of the earth spinning like his namesake. Partner and trainer had only a moment to share a grimace at the powerful move, before Iron Tail met Drill Run.

  This time, our opponent came out the better, the stronger move smashing through our defenses. The partner felt all her air leave her as the projectile mole blasted into and then past her, both of them launched into the air by the Excadrill’s momentum.

  Desperately, the trainer flooded our shared bond, cushioning the brutal Crush Claw that came from above us. We slammed into the dirt, and rolled desperately out of the way of our descending foe, who gleamed with orange energy as he flew by, diving beneath the soil once more.

  If that attack had hit, the Digger might have been able to drag the partner underground, and that might have been the end of this whole battle.

  Two hearts thumped, beating fast and hard. Two grins, synchronized across two faces.

  Now, this was more like it.

  Our foe emerged, another Drill Run barely dodged by a lightning-fast Quick Attack. Instead of diving beneath the ground once more, however, the mole slammed into the turf, rolling up and into a ready position. The movement was clearly meticulously practiced, considering the grace with which the Digger’s ungainly form performed the motions.

  Of the two minutes in a typical round, only thirty seconds could be spent out of view. That included camouflage, invisibility, total submersion, minimization, and yes, digging. The trainer had been keeping a complete count of the seconds, and we knew our foe couldn’t descend again, which meant this was our window to do some serious damage before the round ended.

  The Digger knew it too. He slammed his claws together, a piercing Metal Sound ringing out from them. The move wouldn’t debilitate us through our combined syn, but the noise was still loud and disorienting, and clearly intended to stall our assault.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The partner’s ears folded down involuntarily, but there was no time to wait. We charged forwards, body blurring with Normal energy as we closed on the Digger.

  Our enemy was not without recourse, unfortunately. The Ground-type raised up one claw, before slamming it back down into the earth, causing the entire arena to shake.

  In a back-alley, the super effective move would have devastated the partner, but this was a Ferrum battle. With a flex of our combined syn, we repelled the roiling waves of Ground energy, and charged at the Digger.

  The Excadrill barely had time to get his claws in place before we slammed into them, sending all of us sprawling back. And then, it was a melee, trainer and partner trying to do what damage they could before the round ended.

  Unfortunately, Our opponent showed none of his earlier impatience. Our initiating Brick Break was blocked, and the second follow-up strike skittered off a solid Protect. A retaliatory Iron Head was channeled through the Digger’s horn, but we managed to dive forwards, past the strike and around one of the Digger’s legs. We had a split second where the Ground-type lost track of us, and we were blocked from the foe-trainer’s sight by the Digger’s bulky form. We didn’t waste it.

  A flash of energy, and a doppelganger appeared, struggling to rise from prone, even as the real partner sprung off our tail, getting airborne while barely agitating the ground beneath us.

  Sure enough, the Digger’s tremor senses told him where the substitute was, and when he transitioned into a whirling Rapid Spin, he had a perfect target.

  The energy construct didn’t hold up to the impact, but it didn’t need to. The Digger had barely a moment to register surprise as his prey disappeared, before the real partner came crashing down atop him, tail laden with Steel energy. We’d built up plenty of momentum for this strike, throwing our body into multiple full revolutions before making impact, and the Excadrill clearly felt it, staggering underneath the blow.

  We landed atop the recovering Ground-type, and with determined paws, struck down with a brutal Brick Break.

  As soon as the move landed, a piercing ring went through the arena.

  With a frustrated growl, our raging foe threw the Partner free of his back. The Pikachu, alone once again, landed on the upturned earth as the AR visor forcefully ejected my consciousness. The round was over, with plenty of time left on the clock. We’d won.

  We were halfway there.

  -

  The normally brief intermission between rounds ended up being a bit longer than usual to give the repair teams time to fix the destroyed field. Ground-types churned the arena like nothing else, and the integrity of the surface had to be verified before they could continue.

  I took the opportunity to drain most of my water bottle. Then, to fill it, and drain it again. Pikachu sat on her side of the field, doing her best to marshall her strength, even as Excadrill did the same across the pitch.

  For all that they’d lost the first round, Killian and his partner didn’t look worried. Maybe a bit frustrated. Maybe angry. Not worried.

  They’d come out swinging in the next round.

  -

  “Round Two! Five… Four… Three… Two… One… Fight!”

  Both sides moved immediately. We charged forwards, trying to close in before the Digger could descend, but our efforts were in vain, as our Quick Attack just barely failed to make contact.

  The Ground-type quickly undid the repair team’s hard work, churning the earth as he tore around the arena. The trainer watched through her own eyes, waiting for an opportunity to counter the Digger’s movements, and with a quick warning through our shared bond, the partner dove out of the way of a swiping claw, ripped free from the earth.

  Instead of emerging to follow-up, however, the gleaming steel implement descended once more, giving us a few seconds to reposition. The strategy was obvious, stay underground and try to drag the partner down beneath the earth as well to secure an easy round win.

  For a split second, we considered splitting off a substitute to buy time, but the Digger’s partner would undoubtedly be watching through his own eyes more carefully this time, ready to warn the Ground-type of that sort of trickery. Better to focus all our energy on dodging.

  The next fifteen seconds were tense, as we hurled ourselves away from a brutal series of underground assaults. On the last attack, they caught us by defying expectations, coming out of the earth in a brutal Drill Run instead of the fishing they’d been doing earlier. A smart play, we’d have expected them to make this attack in another five seconds, when their time underground was running out, but they sacrificed the rest of their timer to surprise us.

  The gambit paid off, and our syn took a crushing impact as the Digger followed up on their successful hit with a Bulldoze. The shaking ground unsteadied us enough that we couldn’t dodge the next Iron Head either, and we were sent sprawling.

  The trainer flooded the shared bond, giving the partner the energy required to recover from the assault, scrambling out of the way of another Drill Run.

  They weren’t expecting the fast recovery, and the powerful attack left the Digger open for a retaliatory Quick Attack to position behind them. An Iron Tail to the back of the mole’s squat leg disturbed their opponents footing, and let us get in an uppercut Brick Break that put the Excadrill briefly airborne.

  We loosed our most powerful Discharge. The undirected attack wasn’t as strong as a Thunderbolt, but it came out far quicker without the need to aim, and we needed to make our attack fast if we wanted to juggle the Ground-type. The attack hit, and clearly did damage, but before it could send him up any further, a spire of rock emerged from the ground.

  The Rock Tomb was used not to ensnare us, but to bring the earth up to the airborne Excadrill. With gritted teeth, he dug his claws into the earthen spire, grounding any electricity that did hit him. Grip established, he hauled himself forwards, yanking his ungainly form down the crumbling pillar towards us.

  We had to dodge, avoiding the cascade of falling rocks, and we lost sight of the Digger for a crucial moment. We cast about, looking for our foe, but the trainer recognized the danger too late. The partner was in the motion of springing away when an uppercut claw smashed into her from below, the fast Dig sending us up into the air.

  Excadrill followed, their claws gleaming as they threatened to crash into us.

  If the next attack hit, we weren’t going to recover from the combo. We had one chance here. The trainer flooded the bond, catalyzing the energy necessary for a move the partner hadn’t quite mastered yet. With a blur of psychic power, we moved with unnatural speed, moving through the air in a way that wasn’t possible when not under the influence of Agility.

  We could have dodged, but that would have just seen us scrambling away again. No, we needed to take the fight to our opponent. One burst of agility downwards brought us right behind our foe. A second saw us slamming into the Ground-type’s back. The psychic energy shattered, completely depleted, but we were in position. We took a massive breath, and then sparked with as much electricity as we could muster. The Thunderbolt slammed between us, sending the Digger slamming downwards and us spiraling up.

  More energy came in. The trainer had to keep herself from staggering, but the power was good, and it enabled an Iron Tail that brought them crashing down on their prone foe. The strike crashed like a meteor into the Digger’s back. We followed it up with one downwards Brick Break, two, but before we could get off any more, a burst of energy from the Ground-type’s partner allowed the Excadrill to throw himself into a spiraling Rapid Spin that sent both Pokémon sprawling away from one another.

  We slammed into the ground on opposite sides of the arena, but no one was done yet. We picked ourselves back up, even as the Digger did the same from across the arena.

  A few seconds passed as all parties evaluated the battle thus far. Both parties had to be almost out of syn. The partner’s tank was running low, but the trainer had energy to spare. There was always energy to spare.

  The Digger sagged, clearly exhausted from the fight thus far. One or two more good combos, and we could still end this fight in round two.

  The moment of hesitation broke, and we started using Quick Attack to circle our foe at priority speeds, looking for an opening.

  The Digger wasn’t the greatest at turning, his ungainly bulk ill-suited for changing direction quickly, whether above or below ground, so we tried to take advantage. Like before, our foe responded to our higher speed by churning the earth, using Bulldoze to disrupt our footing.

  A quick flex of syn, and the attack around us was forced back. It seemed like our opening, but as we rammed forwards, the Digger’s trap was sprung.

  The ground, already disturbed by all of the seismic activity that had occurred, fractured, hairline cracks and upturned earth impeding our assault. We placed a paw wrong in our charge, and found ourselves stuck in a small crevice.

  The partner tried to jerk her paw free, but it stuck fast in the opening. With urgent energy, the trainer flooded the bond, trying to accumulate enough power to blast ourselves out of danger, but even as we loosed a Thunderbolt that shredded the earth keeping us pinned, a crushing claw came smashing down on the partner’s head. One more Iron Head, and our syn crashed down to zero.

  I took deep, gulping breaths as I was forcefully ejected from the Battle AR, even as the buzzer rang out over the arena, declaring the round over.

  My eyes roamed over the arena, looking for where we’d gone wrong, trying to identify the steps we could take to improve our chances in round three.

  I almost didn’t see it. The arena was completely destroyed, fractures and crumbling earthen ruins obscuring the battlefield. Pikachu was taking deep breaths, waiting for the barrier to lower so I could recall her. The faint yellow lattice-work of the shields surrounding the pitch almost obscured Killian from view, but I could just make him out, staring at his partner, as if trying to catch the Ground-type’s eye.

  The Excadrill noticed, and it was subtle, so very subtle, but I caught it. The man offering his partner a slow, certain nod.

  I felt like what came next happened in slow motion. The steel-covered mole, nodding back, and then turning around, looming over my downed partner. His gleaming claw, rising like a guillotine into the air.

  Pikachu, perhaps sensing something wrong, exhaustedly peering over her shoulder. My partner’s soulful brown eyes widened, caught between shock and horror.

  Striking an opponent after a round ended was an instant disqualification, Killian and Excadrill would lose.

  But maybe they didn’t have to win. Maybe, they just had to make sure that we couldn’t.

  I slammed my palm into my AR visor, activating it. Normally, there were safeguards in place to make synergizing a gradual process, the slow speed more gentle on both sides’ minds. I blasted through them, pouring all of my energy into the bond between my partner and I.

  There wasn’t enough time to dodge. Not enough time for a move. The descending claw was inches away from the partner’s back.

  When a battle seemed lost, when syn was low, and when that last combo was looming, the most elite Ferrum battlers had one way to turn things around. We weren’t quite there yet. We didn’t have the experience, nor the power, nor the bond yet required.

  But the trainer had the desperation to make up the difference.

  Scintillating energy erupted from the partners body, gleaming hues of rainbow light that blasted the Excadrill back, along with a good chunk of the upturned arena.

  And in a grotesque parody of the breathtaking display in the arena, blood came spewing out of the trainer’s eyes, mouth, and nose as she poured herself into their shared connection.

  The last thing the trainer saw was herself through her partner’s eyes as she collapsed to the ground, her AR visor cracking against the hard pavement. Scarlet liquid oozed freely from the shattered plastic, staining the grounds of the arena in violent red.

  -

  Killian and Excadrill were disqualified from the tournament, bringing our record to twenty-seven wins, and one loss by forfeiture. I wasn't going to be able to compete for at least a week (though the doctors recommended a month) while I recovered.

  Physically, I was fine, after just a little tiny bit of a blood transfusion. Barely anything, really.

  Frankly, I felt fine mentally, too.

  No, the real damage lay in the bond between Pikachu and I. It had been... worn by what I'd done.

  Also, they were keeping me in the hospital overnight for observation, which sucked.

  At least I had my partner with me, the Electric-type affectionately resting on my lap. I idly rubbed her with one hand, scratching the bits I knew she liked best. Ironically, it would have been far better for our season for me to let her take the hit from the treacherous Excadrill. Pokémon recover far faster than humans, after all.

  I didn't regret it for a second.

  I heard footsteps, and peered at the open doorway, just for a pink-haired nurse to walk by my room, apparently destined for some other patient. My inactive hand went instinctively to the charm hanging from my necklace. Its familiar thunderbolt shape was soothing, but the reminder it gave me was equally bitter.

  Hopefully Fe was having a better time of things than I was.

  Of course, I knew deep down that she'd go through worse than what I just experienced to trade places with me.

  How could I not know? Were I in her position, I’d have felt exactly the same.

  Still, I couldn't help but wonder what she was doing, right now. Hopefully not still wallowing. Part of me ached to reach out to my best friend, but reconciliation couldn't come from me. Not after the way we'd parted. Maybe the rift between us was too large to bridge, now.

  Hushed voices from outside my room, in the corridor, broke me out of my revelry. Pikachu's ears perked up, and she looked outside the room, as my boredom-addled brain focused in to listen.

  I felt a shock run through me, as I recognized one of the voices. "Are you sure I can't go see her?"

  My voice came out rough, and scratchy, but I forced my volume up, so I could be heard. "Fe?"

  The voices fell silent, for a few moments. And then, a sigh.

  A familiar, tanned head poked around the corner, darker than in my memory from days spent in the sun. The same brown hair though, if a bit longer than I remembered, and the same sharp, focused eyes. My best friend, moving to stand awkwardly in the doorway. She offered the most pathetic little wave, as her eyes roamed up and down my recumbent form. She coughed once, seemed to think for a moment, and then offered the best she could. It was worth a small, "Hey."

  I couldn't help it. I choked up.

  Laughing.