Staraptor's wings beat against the freezing air as we descended toward the police blockade. Before the massive bird could even touch the ground, I was sliding off the saddle, stumbling as my boots hit the slushy mud.
"Officer Jenny! Ranger!" I shouted, but the words were immediately cut off by a wave of air so foul it felt like a physical punch to the gut.
It was a thick, yellowish haze drifting out from the tunnel mouth—a smell like rotting eggs mixed with a garbage fire and old gym socks. My eyes watered instantly, and my throat seized up. I doubled over, the world spinning.
"This is... ugh... bad," I managed to wheeze out, clutching my stomach. "The five Trainers... they're trapped on the other side... of the ridge. The Boss Golem is blocking... the exit."
Blegh. I couldn't hold it back anymore. I turned to the side and emptied what was left of my breakfast into a snowdrift.
"Easy there, kid! Get a mask on!" a police officer shouted, shoving a plastic respirator into my hand.
I strapped it on, gasping for filtered air. As the nausea subsided, I looked up at the chaos. A purple-and-white Skuntank was positioned at the cave entrance, its tail arched over its back, spraying a concentrated mist of chemical stench into the dark shaft.
"It's no use!" the Ranger shouted over the din. He was trying to coordinate a squad of officers, but everyone was struggling with the odor. "The Skuntank's using everything it has, but Geodude don't breathe like we do! They sense vibrations and heat. This stench is barely a nuisance to them, but it's making it impossible for us to coordinate our own Growlithe!"
Skuntank are a nightmare to work with in confined spaces. They store foul liquid in their bellies that ferments into a biohazard, and while it's great for repelling organic predators, it was a disaster here. Because the gas was flammable, they couldn't even use Fire-type moves to clear the path for fear of turning the tunnel into a giant cannon.
"Can we fly more support over there?" I asked, my voice muffled by the mask.
"Staraptor's spent," the Ranger said, looking at his partner. The bird was panting, its wings drooping from the flight through the high-altitude winds. "And it's the only Pokémon we have on-site capable of carrying a rider through those mountain drafts. We're stuck until the main force arrives from Eterna City."
"But if we talk to the Golem—" I started.
"Yes, if it's the Alpha of this sector, it shouldn't be this aggressive," the Ranger interrupted, frustrated. "That Golem is usually quite reasonable. Something must have spooked the colony. But we can't reach him through this swarm!"
I looked at the exhausted Staraptor. I looked at the dark tunnel where five kids were currently becoming Golem-bait. I couldn't just sit here.
"I'll go back," I said firmly.
"Kid, you didn't hear me. Staraptor is out of commission. It'll drop you halfway there."
"Not if I help it," I countered. I reached into my bag and pulled out a large, juicy Sitrus Berry, handing it to the bird. It pecked at it hungrily, but the Ranger was right—calories alone wouldn't fix the muscle fatigue.
"I'm not done. Floette, I need you! Use Wish!"
I released the Poké Ball, and Floette spiraled into the air, her tiny flower glowing with a soft, ethereal light. She closed her eyes, and tiny, sparkling motes of starlight began to drift down from the cave ceiling, swirling around Staraptor in a shimmering galaxy.
Wish is a rare and difficult move to master. It doesn't heal instantly; it's like a delayed "blessing" that stores energy in the air. As the starlight touched Staraptor, its breathing smoothed out, its eyes cleared, and its wings regained their sharp, powerful snap.
The Ranger stared, his mouth hanging open. "That's... that's a high-level recovery move. I've only seen top-tier Breeders use it with that much precision. Who are you, kid?"
"A 'Newbie,' according to the people I'm about to go save," I said with a dry grin, swinging myself back into the saddle. "Let's go, Staraptor! Rapid flight!"
This time, the flight was a blur. Staraptor, bolstered by the starlight, cut through the wind like a silver arrow. We reached the secondary ledge in record time, but the scene that greeted us was a disaster.
The five Trainers—Marcus, Felix, and the others—were no longer fighting. They were piled in a heap near the Golem's massive feet, their Pokémon recalled or fainted. A group of Geodude were actually lifting them up, preparing to carry them deeper into the pitch-black tunnels.
"Gole! Golem!"
The Boss Golem saw us land and let out a roar that shook the very foundation of the cliff. It didn't wait. It tucked its limbs into its body and turned into a massive, spinning boulder, charging straight for me.
"Sylveon, frontline! Protect!"
Sylveon leaped forward, her ribbons snapping tight. A shimmering blue dome erupted around us just as the Golem slammed into it. The impact felt like an earthquake, the sound of stone hitting energy echoing like a cannon shot.
"Stop!" I yelled, throwing my hands out and projecting my Aura. I didn't try to attack; I tried to broadcast Calm. Safety. Help. "We aren't here to fight you, Golem! We want to help!"
The Golem slowed its spin, its massive rocky "eyebrows" twitching. It felt the warmth of the Aura—a golden, soothing energy that most wild Pokémon recognize as a sign of a "Friend of the Forest." It came to a halt, its massive weight cracking the stone beneath its feet.
"Gole? Golem... Gole-gole-gooom."
The giant started grumbling, its voice deep and gravelly. It pointed a massive, three-fingered hand back toward the depths of the cave, then at the unconscious Trainers.
"Sylveon," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the giant. "Can you translate? What's his problem?"
Sylveon sat back on her haunches, her feelers twitching as she read the Golem's emotions and vocal patterns.
"Fly... fly-ah, syl-vee!" she began, her voice melodic as she mimicked the Golem's tone.