Nickname:Metal Slug
Type: Ground / Rock
Level: 7
Potential: A
Height: 3'6"
Weight: 252.6 lbs
Ability: Lightning Rod
Secondary Ability: Rock Head
Hidden Ability: Reckless
Nature: Impish
Known Moves: Horn Attack | Bulldoze | Rock Blast | Protect | Dragon Rush | Rock Polish | Tackle
Even though Jack's aura signature was mostly attuned to Water, Ice, Flying, and Electric energies, he'd never been stupid enough to build his territory around only what suited him personally. A man who lived long learned early that the world rarely respected personal affinities, and Pokémon even less so, especially when half of them had bloodlines that liked to mutate, cross-type, or outright ignore what their paperwork claimed they were supposed to be.
Nassau alone was proof of that nonsense.
On paper, Nassau was a pure Water type, clean and simple. In reality, his bloodline leaned heavily toward latent draconic traits, the kind that didn't manifest until later stages or mega evolution.
Pokémon Legends ZA proved that fan theory.
Which meant Jack planned ahead.
The Ground-type habitat sat southwest of his main complex, tucked far enough away that the seismic stress and elemental bleed didn't interfere with his aquatic infrastructure, yet close enough that logistics stayed sane. Ironically, the surrounding residential land had gotten cheaper and cheaper over the years, mostly because normal civilians didn't enjoy living near artificial deserts filled with semi-hostile monsters and shifting elemental pressure fields.
Jack, naturally, considered this a bargain.
The zone itself was built like a warped suburban western frontier town, wooden facades over reinforced composite frames, false water towers masking pressure regulators, wide open streets designed for charging trajectories and territorial maneuvering rather than human comfort. He wasn't entirely sure when the aesthetic choice happened, but if he was honest with himself, it probably traced back to watching far too many old animated shows during late-night planning sessions.
Clearly, Phineas and Ferb had done irreversible damage to his architectural taste.
Beyond the mock-town perimeter stretched hundreds of meters of open artificial desert, layered with crushed Ground-Type Tera Shards, mineral-rich substrate, and carefully balanced elemental saturation fields, populated by desert-adapted Pokémon (which are only used for Terraforming) and engineered monsters designed to simulate real hostile environments without crossing into lethal instability. The terrain shifted subtly underfoot, never quite settling, forcing constant balance adjustment, endurance conditioning, and spatial awareness.
It wasn't pretty.
It was effective.
The only real downside was that the Pokémon League had recently caught on to how absurdly beneficial monster integration had become for habitat development, and now Monster Houses and hybrid Breeding Facilities were rapidly approaching League-tier pricing. Entire markets were inflating overnight, permits tightening, inspectors sniffing around for violations that technically didn't exist yet.
At least Jack had locked in his contracts early.
Which meant Ellen got to benefit from it.
She stood at the edge of the training field, boots planted firmly in the dusty stone, hands on her hips as Metal Slug shifted her weight nearby, thick hooves grinding small grooves into the reinforced surface with every idle movement. A month of consistent conditioning had already changed the Rhyhorn's posture, her stance more grounded, her reactions tighter, her awareness broader than most trainers ever managed at this stage.
Ellen exhaled slowly through her nose, eyes narrowing with focused satisfaction.
"Metal Slug," she said, voice steady, carrying across the field without needing to shout. "It's been a month now since we started trainin' you in the art of fucking shit up properly."
Metal Slug snorted, a low, rumbling sound vibrating through her armored chest as if she approved of the mission statement. Ellen's lips twitched.
"But—"
Ellen's tone shifted abruptly, the bright edge of excitement draining out of it and settling into something colder, sharper, more disciplined in the span of a single breath, the way a drill instructor's voice snapped into place when playtime ended and real work began.
"—we ain't here to play around."
Metal Slug tilted her head slightly, thick ears twitching, eyes narrowing with visible confusion as she tried to reconcile the sudden tonal shift with the praise and momentum she'd just been basking in.
"Rhy?" the Rhyhorn rumbled softly, uncertain but attentive.
She had done exactly what Lady Calypso had instructed her to do, absorbing the elemental flow of her habitat properly, stabilizing her internal pressure, synchronizing with the terrain rather than fighting it. Jack's Pokémon had integrated with Ellen's training surprisingly well despite her only having a single partner so far, and even Nassau, grumpy as he was about being the only male in what had rapidly become a very lopsided household, tolerated Metal Slug's presence with begrudging respect.
He still complained.
Constantly.
But the tail flicks and irritated splashes carried more performance than genuine hostility.
Seeing the confusion on Metal Slug's face, Ellen inhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders once before explaining, her voice dropping into something more serious, more honest, less theatrical.
"Accordin' to my future husband," Ellen began, lips curling faintly as she glanced toward Jack, "you're weak as shit right now."
Jack nearly choked on air.
"Lass," he protested immediately, turning halfway toward her with a wounded expression, pirate cadence thickening as it always did when he felt unfairly assaulted, "do ye have to put it like that?"
Ellen bit her lip for half a second, clearly trying not to laugh, then continued anyway.
"Catarina Claes. Vanessa King. Flare Earlgrande. Ariane Glenys. Toph Beifong," she rattled off, fingers ticking the names off one by one like a hit list burned into her memory. "Those five are monsters in the ground-type course alone. Real monsters. Damn bitches can't fuckin' learn to not take what is mine!"
Jack opened his mouth, already forming a rebuttal.
"Not every girl wants a piece of me," he muttered defensively to himself.
Both Ellen and Nassau turned their heads slowly to look at him.
The expressions they gave him were not angry.
They were pitying.
Which somehow hurt worse.
What Jack conveniently failed to internalize, for reasons that could only be classified as terminal stupidity, was that by beating an entire school's Elite Four roster and their Champion using nothing but a Totodile, he had unintentionally crowned himself the undisputed apex disaster of adolescent combat reputation. A hundred percent win streak. Every course. Every bracket. No losses. No mercy.
Naturally, this had attracted attention from the various pretty woman in the school.
Naturally, Jack being Jack had decided to "help."
Which meant half the academy now treated him like a walking legend, a training benchmark, and in several unfortunate cases, a romantic catastrophe waiting to happen.
Ellen exhaled sharply through her nose.
"Those five bitches," she continued bluntly, eyes narrowing as memory sharpened into focus, "ain't just strong. They're fucking good. I watched all their matches in the ground-type course."
Her gaze dropped back to Metal Slug, intensity returning full force.
"And if you're gonna walk into sandstorms with me someday," Ellen said quietly, "you don't get to be 'pretty good.' You get to be unstoppable."
Metal Slug shifted her weight, hooves scraping against the reinforced stone as understanding slowly filtered through instinct rather than language, her confusion giving way to something closer to determination.
"Rrrh."
"Alright," Ellen said, clapping her hands once as if sealing the decision before her brain could second-guess it. "Let's get it then."
She had more speeches lined up in her head, a whole motivational chain about discipline, consistency, and incremental growth, but Metal Slug was already shifting eagerly beside her, hooves grinding against the packed stone with restless energy, and honestly, if her Pokémon wanted to start working immediately, that suited Ellen just fine.
"Let's start with the most basic thing," Ellen continued, rolling her shoulders. "Runnin'. Hubby and Nas'll start by runnin' laps around the sinkhole. Let's aim—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Not because she forgot what she was saying.
Because she actually looked at the sinkhole.
Her eyes traced the edge of it properly for the first time, the way the ground didn't slope so much as drop, the way the air above it shimmered faintly with heat distortion and particulate dust, the way the interior walls weren't solid rock but layered sand and mineral strata that subtly shifted and flowed like a living throat.
Her mouth opened slightly.
"…What the fuck?"
Jack's grin widened like a man presenting a particularly ugly trophy.
"Great, right?" he said proudly, hands resting on his hips. "Hundred meters across, about five hundred meters long if ye follow the curve. Took a while, but I got it done thanks to the sand worms. Big bastards. Dune worms, technically. They carved most of it for me."
Ellen stared at him.
"You let giant worms dig this."
"Aye," Jack replied easily. "Cheaper than excavators. Less paperwork too."
He pointed casually toward the uneven sand surrounding the reinforced running path.
"See, the sand off the beaten track'll sink ye and probably eat ye. Or digest ye. Depends how hungry they are. But if ye stay too long on the path itself, the compression field destabilizes and ye sink anyway."
Ellen blinked.
"…That's worse."
Jack shrugged. "Builds character."
Then he turned his head sharply.
"Nassau," Jack called out, voice carrying that cheerful menace that meant someone was about to suffer. "Time for some joggin'."
Nassau slowly turned his head.
He looked at Jack.
Then he looked at the sinkhole.
Then he looked back at Jack again, eyes narrowing as his brain connected several deeply unpleasant dots.
His gaze slid downward just in time to see Jack lifting the weighted straight jacket from the equipment rack, thick reinforced straps dangling like a promise of misery.
Nassau froze.
Then he slowly turned back toward the sinkhole.
Somewhere deep in his aquatic little soul, he was absolutely convinced this pit was full of land-based versions of those horrible man-eating sand piranhas he'd heard horror stories about from desert Pokémon.
He didn't even know land piranhas were a thing.
But he was emotionally certain they were real.
He sighed.
A long, defeated sigh.
Resignation radiated off him as he waddled closer and allowed Jack to strap him in, layer by layer, weight plates locking into place with dull metallic clicks until he resembled some kind of overburdened aquatic war relic.
Five seconds later, Nassau was fully equipped in the full Chopper weighted training set, looking like a very unhappy piece of military hardware.
Jack cracked his neck once, stretching.
"On your mark—"
Ellen lifted a hand hesitantly.
"Um, babe—"
"Go."
Jack didn't even wait for acknowledgment.
He bolted.
Not jogged.
Not warmed up.
Bolted.
The weighted jacket didn't slow him so much as make the ground crack slightly under his first step, boots slamming into the reinforced stone as he accelerated toward the edge of the sinkhole path like a lunatic with excellent life insurance.
Nassau screamed internally.
Then externally.
With a startled squawk, he lurched forward after Jack, flippers slapping awkwardly against the ground as he scrambled to keep up, eyes wide, panic overriding dignity as the edge of the sinkhole rushed closer far faster than his comfort threshold approved.
Dust kicked up behind them.
The compression field hummed faintly.
The sand near the path shifted ominously.
Ellen and Metal Slug stood frozen, staring.
Metal Slug's jaw hung open.
Ellen's brain took several seconds to reboot.
"…Did he just," Ellen began faintly, "send himself and a water Pokémon sprintin' toward a death pit on purpose?"
Metal Slug slowly turned her head toward Ellen.
"Rhy…?"
Somewhere in the distance, Nassau could be heard shrieking in increasingly creative aquatic profanity as Jack laughed like a man having the time of his life.
Ellen swallowed.
"…I marrying a psychopath."
Metal Slug snorted.
And somehow, against all reason, Ellen felt the corner of her mouth twitch upward despite herself.
[xXx]
Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, two full weeks had passed.
In those two weeks, Ellen Joe learned many things.
Some of them were useful.Some of them were annoying.Most of them made her increasingly aware that getting engaged to Jack Sparrow was going to be less romantic adventure and more long-term emotional warfare.
She showed up to her classes every day without fail, splitting her time between the Rock, Ground, and Steel courses, learning battle positioning, move timing, stamina pacing, how terrain affected footing and recoil, how different minerals interfered with move accuracy, and how badly things went wrong when trainers pushed Pokémon past what their bodies were ready to handle. It wasn't glamorous. It was dusty, loud, and occasionally involved getting knocked flat when someone misjudged a drill.
Metal Slug loved it.
Ellen loved watching Metal Slug love it.
What she did not love was realizing just how many high-ranking trainers had apparently decided Jack Sparrow was the most interesting man to ever exist inside academy walls.
The Steel Course alone was a headache.
Winry Rockbell, Vladilena Milizé, Shizuku Murasaki, and Piscalat made up the so-called Heavenly Queens of the Steel division, with their Champion sitting smugly at the top like a jewel-encrusted executioner. Everyone except that absolute menace Piscalat were actually decent people, polite, competent, and disturbingly easy to like, which somehow made them worse in Ellen's eyes.
Nice bitches were still bitches.
Piscalat, on the other hand, was a problem Ellen would happily solve with a shovel given the opportunity.
Then there was Lazuli.
Stoic. Silent. Calculating. Treated Jack like her personal emergency fund, personal equipment sponsor, and occasionally personal emotional anchor, all without ever acknowledging the insanity of it. Ellen had learned very quickly that Lazuli was not allowed to receive messages from anyone except Jack directly, because apparently his hands alone were enough to make her short-circuit into loyalty mode.
That one irritated Ellen more than she liked to admit.
Sumeragi Youko was another entirely different problem. Way too hot, in a school where the baseline attractiveness apparently started at "unfair." If there were rankings, Ellen suspected the lowest any of these women scored was a solid 9.6, which felt statistically illegal.
Yomi Isayama reminded Ellen uncomfortably of Mai. Calm. Precise. Deeply grateful for the help Jack had given her family, with Auntie Kelly already quietly maneuvering to weave Sparrow blood into yet another influential line. That woman treated family trees like conquest maps.
Cornelia Hale was one of the many blonde disasters Ellen had the pleasure of dealing with on a weekly basis, bubbly, relentless, dangerous in ways she didn't even realize. Frankly, Ellen was beginning to suspect the academy had a secret blonde recruitment quota that nobody had warned her about.
And then there was Diane.
Champion of the Rock Course.
If there were a ranked list of women most dangerously invested in Jack Sparrow's existence, Diane would comfortably sit in third place, right behind Belle and Mai, occupying that position with confident inevitability and enough raw presence to make entire training halls go quiet when she entered.
Ellen did not like that.
Not even a little.
She also learned just how far outside normal Jack's training methods actually were, so far off the curve that they might as well have been aimed at the moon.
Using herself as an example, her Aura size is Medium in the Foundation Stage, stable but dense, showing none of the wild instability most beginners struggled with. All of that came from Jack's outer-bullshit training methods, but she still hadn't advanced yet, because no matter how insane his techniques were, he couldn't bypass the purification stages required for proper growth. Even so, they were already sitting at the edge of the final phase of Foundation, which by the world's standards was ridiculous progress.
The standard for Foundation is Tiny before moving on to the next stage.
What unsettled Ellen more than the pace itself was the sheer level of mastery Jack displayed over the four principles of Aura: Ki, Soul, Haki, and Ripple. Each carried brutal standards and strict limitations, and most trainers struggled to properly stabilize even one before hitting a wall. Watching Jack shift between all four like it was second nature made her increasingly aware that she wasn't just learning from a strong trainer, she was learning from something abnormal.
Ki tempered the life energy of the body itself, the raw "life force" centered deep in the core, allowing a person to draw it outward and perform feats that bordered on the inhuman when refined properly. Soul, or Soul Wavelength, reflected the unique resonance of a person's spirit, letting weapons carry intent strongly enough to harm monsters and Pokémon alike rather than relying purely on physical force. Both demanded constant discipline, because sloppy control could wreck the body or fracture emotional stability just as easily as it produced power.
Haki was the hardest of the four, a spiritual pressure rooted in willpower and consciousness, located in the brain and nervous system, capable of overwhelming or resisting other forces when trained correctly. Ripple was technically the easiest to learn and the most commonly pursued by trainers, relying on controlled breathing to generate life energy and gradually open Aura Nodes throughout the body. Mastering Ripple preserved vitality and slowed physical aging, letting people like Charles Goodshow still move like a man in his twilight years despite being over six hundred years old.
To advance from Foundation into Rook Stage, a trainer had to demonstrate basic mastery of all four principles and successfully activate each at least once under controlled conditions. Thanks to Jack's methods, which she had made him swear not to teach anyone else, Ellen didn't have to worry too much about hitting those benchmarks when the time came. Mai had learned fragments of it as well, but since that bitch was also planning on marrying Jack someday, Ellen grudgingly allowed it to slide, and for once the two of them actually agreed on something.
Jack is going to be a powerful trainer one day and his techniques should be in the clan.
All in all, thanks to Jack's methods, Ellen didn't have to worry too much about advancing through the ranks when the time came, which freed her attention to stay where it belonged, on Metal Slug and the kind of monster she intended to forge out of her.
"M.S, smash through the pillars," Ellen called, guiding Metal Slug toward the energy-rock section of the field where reinforced boulders infused with Rock-type energy were arranged in graded difficulty from Level One to Level Ten.
Metal Slug was currently working on Level Four, which was already extremely impressive for a Rhyhorn her age and conditioning level. Even veteran trainers struggled to push young Rhyhorn past Level Two without accidents at that age, mostly because the species had a nasty habit of overcommitting and exhausting themselves into collapse.
The Rhyhorn line, while undeniably powerful, was not famous for intelligence, and although the rumor that they could only remember one thing at a time wasn't entirely true, they were still dense thinkers by most standards. They often charged at something only to forget why they started mid-run, refusing to stop until exhaustion forced them to collapse, and sometimes smashing whatever was in front of them was the only way to reset their focus and regain orientation. That tendency made them terrifying in short bursts and dangerous in long engagements if not trained carefully.
Metal Slug was never going to be a great special attacker, and her Impish nature made sure of that, but Rhyhorn lines weren't built for special attacks in the first place. They were meant to take hits, absorb punishment, and hit back even harder once momentum was established. To reinforce that profile, Ellen fed her a carefully controlled diet focused on increasing health, physical attack output, and special defense, mixing in elemental stones that cost a small fortune but helped stabilize weak type matchups.
With Metal Slug already carrying high concentrations of Rock, Ground, and latent Dragon energy, the added gem fragments accelerated her growth noticeably. Jack still grumbled constantly about the rising prices of Type Gems, which had climbed into the millions thanks to new industrial and habitat applications, but even he couldn't deny the return on investment. Watching a young Rhyhorn push beyond what most trainers considered safe made the expense sting a little less.
Smash. Smash. Smash.
Metal Slug moved her massive body with surprising speed, crashing through boulders larger than herself one after another with clean, efficient lines of force. A single forward run was enough to shatter reinforced stone into cascading fragments, pebbles scattering across the field until there was enough debris to build something resembling a small rock snowman.
Each of those fragments could sell for a few thousand on the secondary market, meaning they were literally making money while training, which explained exactly why Jack's habitat systems had become both overpriced and over demanded across the region. They can create farming methods that make even more if you are really lucky.
"Fifteen seconds?" Ellen muttered, stopping the Rotom Watch timer and narrowing her eyes in assessment. Smashing Level Four boulders that fast was already excellent, especially considering those same blocks could withstand a full-sized speeding truck without leaving more than a scratch.
Even so, compared to what the Heavenly Queens' Pokémon could do under pressure, it still wasn't enough for where Ellen intended to take Metal Slug.
"Metal Slug, smash more rocks this time," Ellen commanded, adjusting her stance slightly. "Dig into the earth with your claws with each step and keep your weight low."
Obediently, Metal Slug pushed forward again through the Level Four field, reinforcing her body with Ground-type energy to absorb recoil while carving into the terrain with controlled momentum. The boulders would naturally reform after about a week thanks to the embedded energy matrix, but the strain on Metal Slug's stamina started showing after roughly ten minutes of continuous impact work. Maintaining angle precision, body reinforcement, and breathing rhythm all at once taxed even her unusually strong endurance.
She was still young, and while her stamina was impressive, it wasn't limitless yet.
"Rhy…"
Metal Slug was tired, her breathing heavier than usual and her stance just a little sloppier than Ellen liked to see, and that meant she needed an energy boost before pushing any harder. That special gem fragment coated in diamond dust and Beedrill–Combee royal honey would have hit the spot perfectly, the kind of dense, clean energy snack that made her feel unstoppable for a few hours afterward. Once a day, her trainer allowed her one of those wonderful treats, a Ground-Type Gem fragment coated in mineral dust and honey that tasted incredible and always left her brimming with power and warmth. Metal Slug was quietly hopeful she might get a second serving today.
Reality, unfortunately, was disappointing.
"You know the rules, girl," Ellen said firmly, reaching into her berry pouch. "But here, take an Oran Berry. Take it or leave it."
She pulled out a bluish berry and tossed it lightly toward Metal Slug, who caught it instinctively. Oran Berries were basic, common, and mass-grown, especially on Jack's land where entire fields of berries and fruits stretched across controlled biomes, fed by rich soil and absurd irrigation systems. Like always, Jack overdid everything, and the produce grown on his land was so fresh and nutrient-dense that eating anything else afterward made it feel like spoiled garbage by comparison, packed with fiber, moisture, minerals, and vitamins that digested cleanly without burdening the body.
So much so that Auntie Kelly had practically forbidden Jack from selling any of it publicly. Most of the harvest went straight to the Sparrow, Teach, Joe, Joestar, Monkey, Gol, and Vegapunk families instead, quietly reinforcing bloodlines without triggering market hysteria. Still, an Oran Berry was an Oran Berry, common and cheap, but reliable when stamina dipped and recovery mattered.
"Rhy~" 😞
Metal Slug was clearly not happy about it, but she still crunched the basketball-sized berry in a single bite, juice splashing slightly as she swallowed and felt a small portion of her stamina recover. It wasn't the miracle snack she wanted, but it was enough to keep her moving without risking strain. After three more sets of rock smashing, Ellen transitioned Metal Slug into move practice instead of raw impact work.
Jack currently had three Pokémon under active training: a Feebas, a Magikarp, and a Totodile, with the former two sitting at Level 9 and the Totodile having just reached Level 8 the day before. In terms of move variety, Feebas technically had the most potential even though she couldn't perform most of them yet, while Magikarp could barely manage the weakest Water Pulse Ellen had ever witnessed and somehow still attempted Bounce despite failing ninety-five percent of the time. The fact that she can even perform two of moves at all speaks of her potential.
Totodile, however, was the clear winner simply because Jack trained him relentlessly, and that little water gator already knew over a dozen different moves.
Seeing that spread made Ellen ask Jack what moves Metal Slug should eventually aim toward, expecting something conservative or boring given how early Metal Slug still was in her growth curve. His answer caught her completely off guard.
Supercell Slam. Wave Crash. Wild Charge. Take Down. Double-Edge. Head Charge. Head Smash. Flare Blitz.
Getting a Rhyperior wasn't the hard part; the real difficulty with the Rhyhorn line was that their ability profile shifted from full assault builds into bruiser territory after evolution, changing how damage mitigation and recoil management had to be handled. Jack, being a gamer to his bones, explained it using the same language he used when designing his own games, casually referencing build optimization and risk curves like it was obvious common sense. Rock Head eventually became Solid Rock after Rhydon evolved, and he also pointed out that Rhyhorn lines had elemental move compatibility nearly on par with Dragons, something Ellen hadn't even realized was possible.
Even so, Ellen knew Metal Slug wasn't anywhere near ready for that nonsense yet. Take Down and maybe Double-Edge were the only realistic options in the near future, since those moves demanded massive energy output and extremely stable foundations to avoid crippling recoil. Tackle, Take Down, and Double-Edge were essentially the same family of techniques, reckless full-body charges at increasing intensity, and for now Ellen focused on refining Tackle until it became something far more dangerous than the average version.
This was something she learned from watching Jack train his Pokémon. Move variety mattered, but move depth mattered more. Nassau was a poor special attacker too, yet Jack had turned simple bubbles into high-speed machine-gun streams, explosive charges, adhesive traps, and pressure cutters depending on control and shaping, and that kind of refinement wasn't even rare among high-tier trainers.
What was rare was the sheer number of techniques Jack personally created or tested, which Belle, Mai, and Ellen aggressively made sure he never taught outside their inner circle. Those techniques could easily get someone kidnapped, coerced, or forcibly married if the wrong people learned about them, so locking that knowledge inside the clan was simply survival.
For Tackle, Ellen's immediate goal was improving Metal Slug's acceleration distance and the charge time of her Normal energy coating. Because of all the sprinting and impact drills, Metal Slug had become unusually proficient at channeling Normal-type reinforcement, taking roughly three seconds to fully coat her body under controlled conditions. Dragon Dance was completely out of the question for now, since Dragon energy was notoriously difficult to control even for advanced trainers.
Rock Blast focused on throwing distance and accuracy, and thanks to Nassau's influence during joint drills, Metal Slug's aim was already excellent within ten meters. Horn Attack required constant sharpening and regrowth management, with Ellen maintaining her horn using whetstones and controlled abrasion cycles. Bulldoze, however, was the one move Ellen still hadn't fully figured out how to optimize yet.
Metal Slug shifted her weight again, breathing steadily but visibly fatigued, eyes still sharp and ready despite the strain.
"Rhy…"