The silence didn't last.
A soft whimper broke it thin and trembling. I turned. The younger girl, the one barely taller than my shoulder, was curled against her sister's side. Her lips had gone pale. She shivered, not from the rain but from something deeper. Her breaths came short, uneven, each one whistling faint in her throat.
The wound. Poison Sting.
I could see the angry purple swelling around the mark on her arm. The older sister pressed a damp cloth against it, but it did nothing. Every so often the girl's eyes fluttered, and she murmured words too soft to catch.
"She's burning up," the sister whispered, her voice shaking. She glanced at me, at Caesar, at Livia. "She needs a Center. She won't last if this keeps spreading."
My stomach twisted. In training manuals, antidotes were always listed first in every kit. I didn't have one. None of us did.
The fisherman grimaced, kneeling beside her. "The storm… washed everything away." His voice was low, pained. "We move, and maybe… maybe Vermilion."
Maybe.
I didn't like the way the sister's arms tightened around the little girl at that word.
A sharp, wet cough pulled my gaze across the cave. The boy with the cracked Pokéball sat slumped near the wall. The faint light inside his ball sputtered like a dying ember. He held it tight against his chest, head bowed low, shoulders shaking.
I hesitated, then crouched beside him.
"...Hey." My voice felt clumsy. Too soft for a world that was breaking. "What's its name?"
He flinched, eyes darting to me, then back to the ball. His lips moved. "…Spearow."
The ball flickered once. Then it went dark.
The boy choked, curling around it as if holding tighter would stop what had already happened.
I knew I should look away. Give him space. But I remembered the feeling of Rin's hand slipping from mine, the sickening emptiness that followed. My own chest hurt too much to stay silent.
"You did what you could," I murmured. My throat caught, but I forced the words out. "That's all any trainer can do. Spearow knew that."
His shoulders shook harder, but he nodded once, clutching the lifeless capsule.
I didn't touch him. Just sat there a moment, letting Caesar's heat bleed into the cold.
A flash split the cave in white. Lightning. The thunder followed a breath later, so close it rattled the stone under my palms.
The storm wasn't finished with us.
Then came the sound.
A sharp splash outside. Then another. Something heavy moving through shallow floodwater. My pulse jumped.
The fisherman's head snapped up. He froze, then hissed between clenched teeth, "Out. Now. Quiet."
I frowned, confused until the shadows at the cave mouth moved.
Small shapes tumbled inside, dripping wet, fur plastered against round bodies. Two of them. They shook themselves violently, spraying droplets across the stone, then sniffed at the air with high-pitched chirrups.
Teddiursa.
Their little crescent-moon marks gleamed faintly in Caesar's firelight. Normally harmless. Normally even cute. But these weren't normal times.
The cubs' noses twitched. One pawed at a soggy crate washed up against the wall. The other tipped its head, ears flicking at the faintest sound. Then it padded deeper into the cave. Toward us.
My breath locked.
The cub's nose twitched again. Too close.
The fisherman's whisper hissed like steel through the cave"Out. Now."
No one argued.
We slipped backward, one by one, until the cave mouth yawned behind us. The storm lashed down in sheets, rain cold enough to sting, but the air outside open, unchoked by the smell of damp fur was a relief.
"Go!" I urged, voice low but sharp.
We broke into a run. Mud sucked at our feet, rain blurred our vision, and the forest beyond the ridge loomed like jagged shadows. Caesar darted ahead, his flame barely visible under the downpour, while Livia skimmed low, wings heavy with water but steady. The sisters clutched each other, the younger girl's small body jolting with every step. The boy stumbled but forced himself onward, both arms wrapped around his silent Pokéball. The fisherman brought up the rear, his Goldeen hovering in the half-flooded ground beside him like a lantern in the storm.
The rain hit harder. Trees whipped above us, their branches cracking like whips under the wind. Every splash behind us sounded like pursuit, every snap of wood a warning.
And then
The forest roared.
Not thunder. Not water. Something deeper, primal, full of weight. It rolled through the drowned trees and rattled my ribs, shaking the ground under my soaked boots.
Ursaring.
The cubs hadn't been alone.
We froze, every one of us, as the sound bled into silence again, thick as tar. I felt Livia's talons tighten on my shoulder, Caesar's breath rasping through clenched fangs. The fisherman's knuckles whitened on his net pole, the sisters clutched tighter together, and even the boy looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes.
I swallowed hard. My mouth tasted of salt and ash.
The roar still echoed in my chest.
We didn't wait for a second one. We ran.
Rain lashed our faces, sheets of water making the whole forest shudder and blur. Mud grabbed at my boots, each step a fight against the earth itself, the ground still half-drowned by the flood. Branches clawed at our clothes, snapping wet across skin. The fisherman shouted for his daughters, his voice torn ragged by the storm.
"Keep moving!" I yelled, though the words barely carried past the thunder and the rain.
Caesar bounded ahead of us, small but fierce, his flame guttering but unbroken. Livia streaked overhead in bursts, her wings heavy, feathers dark and dripping—but her eyes burned like gold against the storm.
Behind us came another roar.
Deeper. Closer.
The boy stumbled, his knees splashing into the muck. I hauled him up by the arm, dragging him forward even as his Pokéball dangled loose from his hand—his dead partner still inside. The grief in his face was plain even through the rain. No time for it now. If we stopped, we were dead.
The forest ahead thinned until lightning lit the world in blue-white flame. For the heartbeat it burned, I saw it.
A hulking silhouette tearing through the trees.
Massive. Fur bristling like jagged thorns, eyes glowing blood-red through the downpour. Claws longer than knives. The storm crowned it in firelight as if the heavens themselves wanted us to see death coming.
Ursaring.
It crashed forward, each step a quake, its rage drowning out even the thunder.
"Move!" the fisherman roared, pushing his daughters ahead.
The next instant, the forest shook. A blast of black-purple energy tore through the rain, the air vibrating with raw hatred. Dark Pulse.
"Down!" I screamed, throwing myself flat.
The beam ripped over us, carving a trench through the mud, trees exploding as if struck by cannon fire. Shards of bark and stone rained down. The little girl cried out as a splinter nicked her shoulder, but the fisherman dragged her upright, forcing her on. My ears rang, my lungs burned.
"Caesar!" I coughed, shoving myself upright. "Dragon Breath cut it off!"
Caesar planted himself in the mud, eyes blazing. His chest swelled, light pooling in his throat. A storm of green-blue fire tore from his jaws, lashing against the dark energy and exploding in a hiss of steam. The clash lit the night for a second like a furnace, shadows writhing on the trees.
But Ursaring didn't stop.
It barreled through the smoke, its roar splitting the sky.
"Livia high!" I snapped. "Find us a way out! Anything!"
She chirped sharply, wings snapping as she shot upward into the rain, breaking past the canopy. I lost her in the storm, but my heart clenched, trusting she'd find something, anything.
"Run!" I shouted again.
We broke toward the trees, but Ursaring was faster. Its bulk tore through trunks like matchsticks, each crash a thunderclap. The boy sobbed beside me but didn't stop, clutching his Pokéball like a lifeline.
Another blast of Dark Pulse ripped through the rain.
"Caesar, block it!"
Smoke curled from his jaws, but he didn't flinch. Another Dragon Breath erupted, clashing mid-air with the wave of dark energy. Steam swallowed us, the forest becoming a blur of heat and mist.
Through it, Ursaring's shape surged closer, closer.
"Shit "
"Quick Attack, Livia!"
Her cry cut down from above. She blurred into sight, streaking white against the storm. She slammed into Ursaring's shoulder, feathers sparking as if striking stone. It barely staggered the beast, but she wheeled again, glowing copies bursting from her wings as Double Team scattered across the rain.
Dozens of Pidgey circled through the storm, diving in and out, darting past Ursaring's claws. It swiped and smashed at illusions, bellowing fury, its attention pulled away from us.
"Good girl!" I gasped, dragging the boy along, urging the fisherman to move faster.
We broke through the trees, but the slope narrowed. Ahead was a wall of stone a sheer ridge. No clear way forward. The path tightened, boxed us in.
The fisherman's face fell. "We're cornered "
Ursaring roared again, ripping through Livia's illusions with raw force, slamming one claw into the ground so hard the earth trembled. The beast's eyes locked on us.
It raised both arms, dark energy curling like clouds around its claws.
We had seconds.
Caesar braced, fire licking from his jaws.
"No" I whispered. "Not Yet."
The world flashed silver.
Something screamed down from the sky, not Ursaring, not thunder. A shriek of steel.
The storm ripped open as a shape hurtled downward wings vast, blades glinting with rain. A wall of armored feathers slammed into Ursaring, the impact shaking the ridge. Steel crashed against flesh with the force of a falling star.
Skarmory.
The great bird drove Ursaring back, its talons locking with the bear's claws, sparks scattering as metal met fury. Ursaring roared, swiping, but Skarmory's wings carved the air like twin swords, driving it off balance.
And behind the steel bird
A figure strode through the Trees. Coat plastered to his frame, League insignia half-hidden by rain. Eyes sharp, movements calm. A whistle at his lips carried even through the thunder, directing his Skarmory in perfect rhythm.
A Ranger.
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
The ranger's voice carried over the clash. "Get them behind me! Move!"
The fisherman pulled girls tight, ushering them toward him. The boy stumbled after. Caesar glanced at me, tusks bared, but I nodded. "Stay sharp"
Livia dropped back to my shoulder, feathers soaked but eyes fierce, as Skarmory's wings smashed Ursaring into the ridge again.
For the first time since the flood, I let myself believe we might make it out.