The simulation floor didn't look like a battlefield.
That was the first problem.
Smooth black panels stretched wall to wall, segmented by faint silver seams that pulsed with low light. Overhead, Divide City's training dome curved like a sealed sky, projectors idle for now, waiting.
Cyrus stood at the center ring, jacket zipped, breath steady.
"This is a counter-team simulation," the facility operator said from behind reinforced glass. "Adaptive units. They'll identify patterns, then build against them."
Cyrus didn't turn. "So they learn."
"They optimize."
Ceruledge's blades ignited with a quiet hiss.
Tyrunt stomped, claws scraping metal.
Meltan clinked nervously, liquid metal rippling.
Ursaluna stood still at Cyrus's back, so still that it felt like part of the floor.
Ditto rested around Cyrus's shoulders, loose but alert.
Gengar's grin reflected faintly in the panels.
Cyrus exhaled. "Alright. Let's see what they think they know."
The floor lights shifted.
Then the walls opened.
Machines rolled, unfolded, and rose, sleek, modular frames with glowing cores. Each projected a semi-solid construct shaped like a Pokémon, outlines flickering as data finalized.
A Steel-type silhouette locked onto Meltan immediately.
A Ground-counter aligned against Ursaluna.
A Fire-resistant frame recalibrated in Ceruledge's direction.
"Split pressure," Cyrus said. "No tunnel vision."
The first unit moved—fast.
A simulated Excadrill burst from the floor, spinning toward Ursaluna.
The ground beneath it hardened—artificially reinforced.
Ursaluna stepped once.
The simulation floor cracked anyway.
The Excadrill construct slammed sideways as the earth refused to obey the program.
The machine adjusted instantly.
A second unit fired—compressed energy designed to destabilize ground density.
The floor trembled.
Ursaluna did not advance.
It anchored.
The energy rippled outward and died against it.
Cyrus felt the vibration in his chest. "Hold that line."
Ursaluna's markings pulsed—steady, controlled.
On the left flank, Ceruledge engaged.
A Water-typed construct formed mid-motion, blades of pressurized fluid flashing toward it.
Ceruledge didn't dodge.
It stepped through the attack.
Flames didn't flare—condensed—wrapping its blades in white-hot arcs that sliced through the water before it could fully form.
The machine recalculated.
A second unit appeared, a Dark-type, optimized for speed.
Ceruledge faltered for half a heartbeat.
Cyrus saw it. "Ceruledge... don't overcommit."
Ceruledge adjusted instantly, shifting stance, blades lower now, movement tighter. It stopped trying to overpower, and started trying to outlast.
Tyrunt charged straight down the center, but a Fairy-type construct materialized to intercept, Tyrunt roared anyway.
The impact from the clash of the two threw Tyrunt back, but not before its jaws bit down, tearing into the construct's core. Sparks flew as the machine staggered, destabilized.
Tyrunt skidded, shook itself, and stood again, smaller than the threat, however he was unbroken.
Meltan froze, a Magneton-like construct hovered before it, electromagnetic fields warping space. Meltan's body vibrated violently, metal warping under pressure.
Cyrus's heart spiked. "Meltan... fall back!"
Too late, the field intensified.
Then Ditto moved.
It slid off Cyrus's shoulders, hit the floor, and split, mirroring Meltan's shape, then exaggerating it. The magnetic field locked onto the larger signature.
The real Meltan slipped free.
Cyrus didn't hesitate. "Now!"
Meltan lunged, body liquefying, flowing through the construct instead of striking it. The machine spasmed as foreign material flooded its core.
The unit shut down.
The dome changed.
Projectors activated.
The floor reformed into fractured urban terrain, Divide City streets, narrow alleys, elevated platforms.
More units dropped in, more specialized, and much more aggressive.
Cyrus's breathing sharpened, "The unit are pushing to overwhelm, not exactly a normal battle scenario" he muttered.
Ursaluna moved first, creating ground where there was none, collapsing a street behind them, funneling the machines forward.
Ceruledge took the choke point, blades carving through constructs with precise, economical strikes.
Tyrunt covered the rear, taking hits that would have shattered something less stubborn.
Gengar phased in and out, disrupting targeting data, laughing as beams passed harmlessly through it.
Ditto shifted constantly, scout, shield, decoy, never staying as one thing long enough to be countered.
Meltan stuck close to Cyrus now, movements more confident, timing sharper.
The final wave hit hard.
A massive composite unit—designed to counter teams, not individuals.
Cyrus raised his hand, "Everything you've got, all together now" he yelled.
Ursaluna slammed the ground.
Ceruledge crossed blades.
Tyrunt charged.
Gengar screamed with delight.
Ditto mirrored Cyrus himself, stance, resolve, intent.
Meltan surged forward like liquid silver.
The machine broke and then silence followed.
The lights dimmed.
The operator's voice came through, quieter now. "Simulation complete."
Cyrus stood there, chest heaving, surrounded by scorched metal and fractured ground.
He looked at his team, not perfect but more synchronized.
"Yeah, that will do... I think we are ready" he said softly.