The sound of the waves was no longer gentle.
Each crash became heavier, deeper—
hammering again and again at the temporary seawall, flinging up muddy spray laced with an eerie violet sheen.
The sickly chemical stink in the air was forced back, overwhelmed by a raw, powerful, salt-laden humidity.
It felt like some kind of punishment was on its way.
"These waves… aren't right," Brock said, his face tightening. "We've got trouble."
He stared toward the open water, every line of his body tense.
He might be a Gym Leader just like Misty, but he'd seen more than she had—being five years older wasn't just for show.
The tide was no longer rolling in evenly.
It was being twisted, as if some invisible giant hand were stirring the shallows, churning up chaotic, powerful whirlpools.
The Horsea in Misty's arms suddenly stopped shaking.
It forced its head up and gazed out at the sea.
The fear in its eyes slowly drained away, replaced by something else—
Awe.
Reverence.
It gently nudged Misty's palm and let out a soft sound, urgent but not panicked.
Was this the power of the ocean?
Or the power of nature itself?
It was hard to say.
But it was definitely a Pokémon's power.
Ash's eyes narrowed as he tracked the changes on the surface.
Even more than his sight, his unusually sharp perception picked up on the energy flooding into the water.
Warm. Vast.
Carrying a deep, indescribable vitality.
It was surging in from the depths, flowing gently into the bodies of the jellyfish littering the shallows, wrapping them in a soft current.
Their shriveled forms plumped up visibly before their eyes.
Their dulled, dim shells slowly regained the gemlike glow unique to Tentacool and Tentacruel.
"This is…" Ash's pupils contracted.
The texture of that power felt strangely familiar.
In his mind, the colossal silhouette beside Bill's lighthouse flickered into view.
"…The giant Dragonite?"
The more he felt it, the more certain he became.
It was the same kind of power.
"What?!" Misty gasped.
Then she understood.
What other creature could wield such overwhelming, reality-bending strength—
healing this many poisoned and dehydrated Pokémon almost instantly?
"…A judgement. And a test," Brock murmured.
He already knew what was coming.
Something like this had once happened near Pewter City.
Pewter was a mining town.
After that incident, no one dared to mine recklessly anymore.
All excavation had to stay within strict limits.
"When the natural environment is destroyed," Brock said quietly, "when Pokémon die in large numbers… when their grief and anger gather together…"
"Their prayers call down a sacred force."
"Some call it nature's fury."
"Some call it divine punishment."
"Some call it karmic retribution."
"But the most visible result is always the same—"
"A single Pokémon appears. Incredibly powerful."
"And filled with hatred toward humans."
"I've only heard the stories before," he admitted. "This is my first time seeing it myself."
This sort of thing had been common before the League was founded.
After the League brought some order to the world, such incidents had become rare.
He'd never imagined he'd get to witness it in person.
"In any case, we should fall back for now," he said.
"Gyarados!" Ash shouted.
His golden Gyarados roared and surged forward, coiling its body between the humans and the sea as a wavering, living wall.
Even so—
They were still too close.
Out on the ocean, the once-gentle swells had turned into a churning field of waves.
The healing power flooding through the water converged on a single Tentacruel—a larger one that had only barely managed to recover some strength.
Blue-white light wrapped around it, blazing brighter and brighter.
"Uuoooh—!!"
The roar that burst from its body was nothing like the cries of an ordinary Tentacruel.
It was deep, thick with pain and rage, vibrating with the overwhelming rush of power suddenly pouring through it.
The sound smothered even the roar of the surf and the panicked screams of the humans.
The Tentacruel's body began to swell.
Ten meters.
Twenty.
Thirty—
Its tentacles whipped and lengthened wildly.
They thickened into monstrous, pillar-like limbs, covered in suckers and venomous spikes—each one like a living siege whip.
The gemlike dome on its head ballooned to the size of a plaza, its color deepening until it looked dark enough to swallow the light around it.
The stingers that once seemed almost slender were now massive, brutal weapons, shining with a baleful violet glow.
A normal Tentacruel had around eighty tentacles.
On this thing, that many appendages was a nightmare made real.
Most creatures were cute while they were small.
Enlarge them enough, and "cute" became "terrifying."
Its growth quickly surpassed that of the giant Dragonite from before.
In the span of a few breaths, it had reached a height comparable to Dragonite—around fifty meters.
And it was still growing.
At last—
When it finally stopped, the shadow its body cast was like a shroud of death.
The entire construction site disappeared under it.
Even the nearby shallows were swallowed in darkness.
Its shadow felt heavier than the sinking sun itself.
Sixty meters?
Maybe more.
It dipped its enormous head slightly.
The eyes that might once have held only a simple jellyfish's awareness now burned with cold, scarlet hatred.
They locked onto the tiny speck that was Granny Kin below—
and onto the reeking, poisoned beach where its kin had been imprisoned and slaughtered.
The air froze.
Soaked to the skin, Granny Kin stood numbly with her mouth hanging open.
Her cane slipped from nerveless fingers and fell to the sticky ground with a dull clatter.
Every bit of color drained from her face, leaving only limitless terror and disbelief.
Her black-suited bodyguards had lost every trace of their previous bravado.
Their legs shook so badly they could barely stand.
Some simply collapsed, limbs refusing to obey.
The giant Tentacruel slowly raised one massive tentacle.
Just that small motion sent a gust of wind crashing over them, nearly knocking Granny Kin off her feet.
The shadow of destruction had taken solid form.
Ash took a step forward, planting himself between Brock, Misty, and the oncoming threat. He stared up at the towering monster.
"Partner."
"Pika—!!"
Pikachu sprang onto his shoulder, its entire body blazing with golden light, electricity crackling along its fur.
"Is that… a Totem Pokémon?" Misty whispered, hand flying to her Poké Balls.
She'd brought a Gyarados at full Gym-leader strength specifically as a failsafe.
But even a Gym Leader's ace—if it was alone—might not be able to handle something this big.
"…We usually call these a 'false Pokémon Overlord,'" Brock said, voice grim.
"When the environment is ravaged."
"When Pokémon die in droves."
"When their grief gathers."
"Prayers turn into a beacon that invites something holy to descend."
"It's not truly a god. It's a vessel. A stand-in."
"Power pours into it from somewhere else, twisting it into a monster."
"Whatever you call it… this is the form that retribution takes."
He looked at the towering Tentacruel, then at the three humans beside him.
"Bottom line—we need to pull back. Now."
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