"Aqua Jet!"
Seeing Hydro Pump get shut down so cleanly, the challenger switched tactics instantly. Water exploded beneath Blastoise's feet as its body surged forward, wrapped in a sharp stream of spiraling water. Its speed spiked dramatically, the heavy shell cutting through the field like a charging cannonball.
Giovanni's voice echoed calmly across the stadium. "Rock Polish."
Rhyhorn stomped hard. A dull, grinding sound followed as the rocky plates along its body shimmered faintly, dust and fragments falling away. Its movements—once heavy—suddenly became smoother, lighter.
Before anyone could react—
"Use Tackle." Rhyhorn lunged.
The ground trembled as it charged forward, raw momentum turning its massive body into a living battering ram. Aqua Jet collided head-on with Tackle.
For a split second, water and stone clashed violently.
Then—a figure was sent flying.
Blastoise smashed into the outer edge of the stadium, rolling once before crashing into the barrier with a heavy thud. The cannons on its shell went limp, steam rising faintly as its eyes spun before closing. Silence descended.
Ash stared at the motionless Blastoise, his mouth twitching slightly. 'Aqua Jet is special—but it leans heavily on physical stats,' he thought. 'Rhyhorn took the full hit… and crushed it anyway.' This was the opposite of his own fighting philosophy.
Where Pikachu relied on speed, agility, and burst-type Special Attacks to compensate for physical gaps, Giovanni had forged his Pokémon into absolute physical monsters. No tricks. No dodging. Just overwhelming force.
"What a waste of such a fine specimen," Giovanni muttered coldly.
"Blastoise, come back. You did your best." The challenger recalled his Pokémon, his expression shaken but controlled. He had seen it now—the difference in foundation. He inhaled slowly.
"Come out—Scizor!" Red light flashed, and a sleek crimson figure emerged, metallic wings buzzing sharply as it hovered above the field. Its claws gleamed coldly, eyes sharp and focused.
Ash's eyes narrowed. 'Scizor… rare,' he noted. 'Metal Coat evolution. Not easy to get.'
Even Ash was impressed. Blastoise alone was solid—but following it with Scizor showed preparation.
"Ash," Yellow whispered, keeping her voice low, "do you think he has an edge now?" Ash smiled faintly and shook his head.
"It can cause trouble," he said. "But it depends on how many Steel-type moves Scizor knows."
Speed alone wouldn't be enough. Not against something built like Rhyhorn.
"Scizor, Quick Attack!" The red figure blurred instantly. In the next breath, multiple afterimages filled the field—Double Team layered perfectly with speed, Scizor flickering around Rhyhorn from every angle.
"Swords Dance." Giovanni's command was simple. Scizor's eyes sharpened. "Now—Iron Claw!" Every clone struck at once, metallic claws slashing downward. Rhyhorn didn't attempt to dodge. It didn't even turn. Instead, Giovanni smiled.
"Magnitude." The moment Iron Claw connected, the ground detonated. A violent shockwave rippled outward, cracking the stadium floor. Scizor's body was caught point-blank, its wings rattling violently as it was thrown off balance midair.
"No—Scizor, come back!" the challenger shouted.
Too late.
Scizor struggled, wings trembling, unable to gain altitude. "Hyper Beam." Another silent command. And then—
- A golden light erupted from Rhyhorn's mouth, a beam so dense it distorted the air around it. The blast struck Scizor head-on, sending it flying across the field before slamming into the barrier—unconscious.
The match ended—again.
Ash didn't move. His mind was racing.
'Brutal… crude… direct,' he thought. 'No gaps. No mercy.' Giovanni's Pokémon weren't just trained—they were forged. And this was only Rhyhorn. If something like Charizard or Dragonite stood there with the same physique, the same philosophy… it would be overwhelming. And beyond this—there was still the ace team.
"Heh…" Ash smiled slowly, excitement rising in his chest instead of fear. A challenge like this—how could he not want to face it one day?
"I lost."
The black-haired boy recalled Scizor, the red light fading quietly into the Poké Ball. His expression was calm—disappointed, but not broken. Thinking it through, he knew the truth. While he still had other Pokémon with type advantages against Ground-types, they were weaker than the two he had already played.
Pushing further would only expose more weaknesses. So instead of forcing it, he chose to stop. Giovanni let out a low chuckle. "Giving up, kid…"
"Yes," the boy replied evenly.
"I'll give in today. But I'll challenge you again. Before the conference—I'll defeat you." There was no shouting.
No anger.
Just quiet determination.
Giovanni's lips curved slightly.
"So you're hiding cards, huh? Fine. I'll look forward to that battle." He paused, then added, almost casually, "If you want to grow faster, challenge the top four gyms of Kanto. They'll temper you well if you're aiming for a high conference ranking."
Advice.
From Giovanni of all people. Ash watched silently. Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded generous. From Giovanni, it felt more like a test—an invitation that filtered out the weak. As the crowd began to disperse, Ash studied the boy once more. 'He really looks like Blue,' he thought.
The confidence. The sharp gaze. The refusal to crumble.
But Ash shook his head slightly. Professor Oak existed in this timeline, and so did Red and Blue—this wasn't some strange overlap. Still, the resemblance lingered. Soon, the three of them left the stadium.
Later, near the Pokémon Center, Ash spotted the boy again.
He was sitting on a bench beside a small practice field, staring up at the star emblem mounted above the centre's entrance. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were distant.
"Hey, Aiden." The boy turned his head. "Misty," Aiden said with a small smile. "So you watched it. I was pretty confident this time, you know." He glanced at Yellow, then at Ash.
"That was a great match," Ash said, stepping forward and extending his hand. "You handled it well. Honestly, you'd do really well against a Grass-type specialist." Aiden blinked, then straightened slightly. "Grass-type…?"
"Yeah," Ash continued. "Against brute strength, control beats power. Status moves. Tempo disruption. Sleep paralysis, terrain control."
Aiden's eyes sharpened.
"If you'd stunned Rhyhorn—or put it to sleep—you could've broken through with Hydro Pump or Iron Claw. You didn't lose because of type disadvantage. You lost because Giovanni dictated the flow." The words landed cleanly.
"I… never thought of it like that," Aiden admitted after a moment. "Thanks." Ash shrugged lightly. "It's nothing." That wasn't entirely true.
Ash was testing an idea—checking whether control-based tactics could realistically counter Giovanni's brutal, physique-focused style. The answer, at least in theory, was yes.
"Tell me when you challenge him again," Ash added. "I'll come cheer you on." Aiden smiled genuinely at that. Yellow exhaled softly. "So that's what you were thinking, Ash."
She looked at him with a mix of admiration and resignation. Even after watching something like that, he wasn't discouraged—he was already planning counters.
Misty watched quietly as well, speaking with Aiden as they exchanged a few more words. She seemed completely unaware of the way Aiden looked at her—subtle, restrained, but unmistakable.
Ash noticed. 'He probably arranged those tickets,' Ash mused. 'And of course, she didn't realize a thing.' That was Misty.
Soon, Aiden stood up. "I've got a lot to work on," he said. "Can't waste time." He headed inside the Pokémon Center to retrieve his Pokémon, and not long after, he left—stride purposeful, thoughts clearly elsewhere.
Ash watched him go. 'He's definitely reworking his team now,' Ash thought. 'Control-types. Tactical cores. Maybe Grass. Maybe Psychic.' A small smile tugged at his lips.
Another trainer growing stronger. Another future rival—or ally. Either way, the road ahead was getting more interesting.
Ash was completely hyped that night.
But excitement alone couldn't overpower exhaustion. After the intense battle earlier, instead of dragging Pikachu and the others into late-night training, Ash made a rare but deliberate choice—to rest.
After all, work and rest were two faces of the same coin, and if he wanted to grow stronger in the long run, he had to roll both. Misty noticed it almost immediately.
Normally, after witnessing a battle like that, Ash would've been buzzing with energy—ranting, replaying moves in his head, maybe even dragging Pikachu out for practice.
But tonight, he was strangely steady, almost grounded. "He's like that," Yellow said softly as they followed Ash down the quiet hallway.
"Hot-tempered in the moment, but calm and rational afterward." She had watched over Ash for long enough to recognise that pattern. When things mattered most, he never let his emotions cloud his judgement.
Misty hummed in response. "Hmm… that's good."
A simple smile lingered on her lips as she watched Ash's back disappear into their room. Without realising it, her thoughts lingered on him longer than they should have. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was just that protagonist-like pull he seemed to have on people around him.
Or maybe… it was something else.
The room was quiet. The faint hum of the Pokémon Center's generators echoed through the walls, blending with the distant sounds of nighttime traffic outside. Ash lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Grrrr…
His stomach growled loudly. "…Well, I can eat something sweet."
Viridian City never truly slept. With trainers constantly flowing in and out, cafés and convenience spots stayed open well into the night. Finding food wouldn't be a problem. Ash swung his legs off the bed and stood up.
"Pika." Pikachu stirred, ears twitching as he lifted his head.
"Rau~" A small voice followed from the other side of the room, Riolu rubbing his eyes as he sat up.
"Pi~" Pidgeotto shook his feathers, blinking sluggishly.
"Well, I'm hungry," Ash said with a grin. "Does anyone want something too?" The answer was immediate.
"Pika~Pikachu!" The little mouse leapt cleanly onto Ash's shoulder, tail swaying happily.
"Pi~"
Still half-asleep, Pidgeotto glanced at Pikachu, then flapped his wings and hopped up to perch beside him, balancing carefully. Riolu didn't bother jumping.
He simply hopped down and followed along quietly.
Ash chuckled. They were starting to pick up his habits already. It was a small thing—but it made him feel something warm in his chest. Bonding. Growth. Trust.
The entrance hall of the Pokémon Center was empty.
The lights were dimmed for the night, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Nurse Joy stood behind the counter, her attention fixed on her smartphone.
"Going out?" she asked, noticing Ash approach.
"Yep. Just out for something sweet," Ash replied casually.
Even after all this time, he still found it impressive how identical every Nurse Joy looked. It was uncanny—and kind of amazing.
"Be careful," she said with a professional smile.
Before Ash could respond—
CRASH!
A loud impact echoed through the hall.
The ceiling above cracked open as four figures dropped down, ropes still tied to their waists.
Ash's eyes sharpened instantly.
Joy's expression darkened. "Who is—"
"Team Rocket is here."
A boy about Ash's age stepped forward, standing confidently between Jessie and James. His gaze was cold, calculating—nothing like the clowns Ash remembered from the anime.
"James. Jessie," the boy said flatly. "Handle them."
Meowth jumped down from Jessie's shoulder.
"Koffing, come out!"
"Ekans, come out!"
Two Poké Balls burst open in flashes of light.
Joy slammed the emergency button without hesitation and turned toward the back. "Trainer Ash, can you help me with them? I need to bring Chansey."
"I was planning to," Ash replied calmly. "Go." Before Joy could even process it, Ash had already stepped forward—Pikachu and Riolu at his sides.
"Koffing, use Smog!" James's command rang out as thick, purple gas erupted, flooding the hall and swallowing the lights. The air grew heavy, stinging the nose. Ash narrowed his eyes. Through the haze, he spotted movement above.
More incoming… I can't let them join.
"Pidgeotto!" Ash shouted. "Quick Attack—then Wing Attack! Cut the ropes!" Before the smog fully blocked vision, Pidgeotto launched upward like a blur. His body sliced through the smoke, wings glowing as he struck fast and clean.
Snap!
Snap!
Two ropes were severed.
The remaining grunts crashed to the floor with painful thuds.
"Ekans, use Tackle!" Jessie yelled.
Unlike the exaggerated comedy of the anime, these weren't careless grunts. Ekans slithered through the smog effortlessly, tongue flicking as it sensed heat rather than sight. A predator in its element. It lunged toward Riolu.
But it had chosen the wrong prey. Riolu's eyes remained calm as the world around him faded. He didn't rely on sight—never had. The moment pressure closed in, something inside him responded.
Aura.
The faint presence of life pulsed clearly in his awareness. The instant Ekans entered range, and Riolu shifted, fists tightening. After all, this was a Riolu that had learned Vacuum Wave the moment it was born.
And that instant it released a solid vacuum wave, sending the Ekans knocking back by the force of it. Making Ekans completely angered by it.