I couldn’t say that Golurk was overflowing with experience. We had pushed through the seventh floor more through luck than skill. But even with our defeats, we had battled to get here, and the important part was not that we had mastered how to fight together, but that we had taken the first few steps toward our best strategy:

  Given Golurk’s low speed, we needed to disrupt and then strike if we wanted to win.

  “Magnitude, Golurk!” came my opening command.

  With a single, booming footfall, the room around us began to shake. Thankfully, Black Tower was constructed to withstand battles even harsher than these, with each room’s support being totally isolated within its structure. As a result, the Magnitude caused the walls and floors to rattle, and plaster cracked from the sheer amount of force that Golurk sent out.

  ...They’d repair that in the morning.

  However, as per the nature of Magnitude, the vast majority of that energy was directed straight at our opponent. Moving first was to our advantage; we needed to lock down this Alolan Sandslash now, or we at least needed to gauge its strategy as soon as we could so we could adapt how we fight.

  “Wow. That’s a pretty powerful Golurk,” the Sandslash’s white-haired trainer said as the floor shook beneath his Pokémon. His Sandslash hopped back to try to avoid the damage, but the initial outpouring of energy had stretched further than it had thought. When it landed, it was knocked over to land on its claws for support.

  “However,” that opposite trainer continued, “unfortunately for you, one Magnitude was never going to be enough. Sandslash! Let’s do it—get ready with a Defense Curl!”

  “Mud-Slap assault,” I ordered right after, knowing a second Magnitude would likely be countered. “Make sure it can’t see you, and if it gets too tricky, be prepared to unleash another Magnitude, anyway.”

  Golurk took another step forward, but this time, the vibrations were much more contained, only coming from the base impact of my Pokémon’s immense weight. Aiming at right where the Sandlash curled up into a spiked ball, Golurk held out a hand to release globs of mud that splattered out from their palm.

  Those wet projectiles did hit the Sandslash, dealing at least some damage, but it was negligible at best. The Sandslash’s icy, hardened spikes protected it and prevented the mud from landing on its eyes.

  But Golurk was still able to march forward, spraying mud across their foe’s body. The only sound came from my Pokémon’s heavy footfalls and the splattering of their attack. Our opponent finally shouted once Golurk reached just a few feet away from that curled-up, Ice-type Sandslash.

  “It's close enough!” he yelled. “Go! Now!”

  As I had already seen, Defense Curl was not a good defensive move, and I’d completely written it off for Golurk. It might have somewhat increased a Pokémon's defenses, but it only did so by having the Pokémon curl up to protect its otherwise vulnerable innards.

  However, while Defense Curl generally came at the cost of temporarily reduced maneuverability, there was at least one situation in which it was incredibly useful:

  By curling into a ball, Defense Curl allowed its user to prepare the start of a powerful combination, and the Sandslash was able to suddenly leap forward, slamming into Golurk not in a Rollout, but in a powerful Ice Ball.

  “Grab it!” I shouted as the Sandslash slammed into Golurk’s chest.

  The Mud-Slap stopped as Golurk swung their arms in. Unfortunately, they were too slow, and the Sandslash purposefully bounced after the impact to hit the floor and begin rolling away to build speed.

  “Through and around,” the Sandslash’s trainer then ordered. “Stay at a distance, and build your power!”

  The Ice Ball tore across the floor, leaving a frozen path in its wake, and it moved to circle Golurk as it grew faster by the second.

  “Be careful,” I said, watching that Pokémon. “It will strike again. And after that jump, I can tell that Magnitude won’t disrupt its momentum. Get a Shadow Punch ready for a defense, instead.”

  Already, shadowy wisps circled Golurk’s arm as they unconsciously prepared to use this move. The rolling Sandslash pulled back, using the full size of the room to its advantage, even going as far as to circle around me.

  But, in its rolling, it suddenly changed directions, charging and then leaping at Golurk for a second strike of this move.

  This time, however, Golurk was actually prepared. The Shadow Punch was released with a certain inevitability to it, homing in on the life force of its incoming foe.

  But it didn’t help.

  Golurk’s Shadow Punch did stop the damage, but that was because the Sandslash turned the move to its benefit. The punch struck like the swing of a bat, and the Sandslash in its Ice Ball was sent flying with even more speed than before.

  “The Ice Ball is still going,” I said with a groan. “Ugh. Your Sandslash is well-trained.”

  “Thanks!” our opponent shouted in reply. “This is something we've been working on for some time.”

  The Ice Ball was already halfway to its maximum, and I knew Golurk wouldn’t be able to last longer than one or two more proper hits. The Ice-type energy contained in the move would be super effective against their Ground-type. It made sense why our opponent had entered this battle with so much confidence.

  “Quick question,” I said, speaking while racking my brain for some kind of solution. “Your Ice Ball. Ever thought of buying an item that enhances it?”

  “Maybe. You offering?”

  “I might, but after the battle,” I said idly, watching that Sandslash. “We can meet up or something.”

  The Sandslash wasn’t attacking, but that was because it was building a dangerous amount of speed. It wanted to seal this battle in one go, and it was willing to take as long as possible to get to that point.

  Magnitude wouldn’t work with how it had already demonstrated its much-more controlled leaps, and Shadow Punch had proven to be a move that’d only work against us. Struggling to think of anything, I hit the side of my head out of frustration, but that hit must have jostled something because a memory suddenly flashed to the forefront of my mind.

  Hold on. Back when we fought in front of the Strange House, Valiant’s blade got caught in Golurk’s clay, right?

  While Magnitude carried the possibility of wide-ranging disruption, and while Mud-Slap was decent for a more focused assault, right now, more than anything else, we needed a way to make this Sandslash’s Ice Ball stop.

  “Golurk!” I shouted, all but praying that this would work. “Use Iron Defense!”

  My plan was a simple one. Golurk immediately moved in reply.

  Clenching their fists, they threw their arms out to their sides, and hardening, Steel-type energy pulsed through their body.

  We needed this to work, and I was definitely a little worried that the toughening nature of the move would mean that the Sandslash would not get stuck. However, a greater defense also carried a greater chance of withstanding this next attack. No matter what, this was our best way to win.

  On the field, Golurk stood with a building, silvery sheen, and I heard something shift atop the pad on my shoulder. The camera there zoomed in; whatever we were doing must have stood out to Cee, as the faint sound of the camera’s aperture twisting hinted at his increased interest.

  Iron Defense was used, and then it was used, and then it was used once again just in case. Opposite to Golurk, the Sandslash was still maximizing its speed. This was our best way forward; if our opponent wanted to build up, then we needed to build up, too.

  Finally, a new order came, but this one felt more like a casual suggestion rather than an outright command.

  “Now, Sandslash,” the opposing trainer said.

  His Pokémon had hit the limits of Ice Ball and was now rolling as fast as it could ever go. It was an icy, ground-based meteor that hurtled across the field, and I could only have faith in our plan.

  “Keep up Iron Defense!” I shouted. “Do whatever you can to grab!”

  A freezing blue sphere covered in sharp icicles leaped high into the air. For a second, I thought its path would follow a slow arc, but at the very peak of its jump, the Sandslash shot downward at Golurk as if it were a beach volleyball that had been spiked.

  The move hit Golurk.

  But it did not dig into Golurk’s clay.

  Rather, the Iron Defense caused this overwhelming strike to ring out with a resounding gong.

  The sheer force behind this move caused Golurk to stumble, and the shock of the impact sent waves through Golurk’s body. The Sandslash tried to grind against Golurk’s hardened chest, and Golurk was actually forced to take several steps back.

  But this wasn’t over just yet.

  Golurk hadn’t fallen, but my Pokémon was about to.

  “Grab it, quickly!” I roared. “And tilt forward for a Heavy Slam!”

  This damage was overwhelming, and Golurk was nearing the point at which they would shut down. But my sudden orders seemed to give them a second breath, and their arms slammed forward to impact the grinding Sandslash on its sides.

  All of a sudden, two hands locked onto it, and the Sandslash’s spin came to an abrupt stop. Looking up at Golurk, its eyes went wide, and its expression became filled with genuine surprise.

  “Iron Head!” came a shout from the Sandslash’s trainer, the confidence wavering in his voice.

  Unfortunately for him, the Sandslash was being held too far away from Golurk for that move to land. Keeping it firmly in their iron grip, Golurk leaned to stand on the very tips of their feet, and without needing to do anything else, they began to tilt.

  Like a falling tower, my Pokémon’s heavy body hurtled toward the earth.

  The Sandslash took Golurk’s full weight in a slam that crushed down on top of it.

  Silence echoed out, and then Golurk was just barely able to roll over.

  Within a small crater, the Sandslash’s eyes were spirals.

  Golurk did not have the remaining energy to stand up, yet their overwhelming weight had been enough to take this Sandslash out.

  I checked the time as I entered the elevator.

  11:47 pm.

  In other words, we still had thirteen minutes left until midnight as well as the deadline that Cee had set for us today.

  In the elevator with me, an attendant in a blue hat once again posed the question of whether or not I wanted to continue, and I had to take a moment to think about it. I knew that I had Pokémon resting on my team that were fast enough to potentially “speedrun” the next floor, but even on the first floor—the easiest floor—thirteen minutes had not been enough to find the elevator and leave.

  “Thank you,” I said, “but I think we’re finally going to take a break here. We won’t be moving any further today.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  With that, I let out an exhausted sigh. We’d somehow climbed seven floors in six hours: not a perfect record, but a record that I could be proud of, regardless.

  Technically, we had even matched Cynthia’s would-be pace—which would have required seven floors daily across seven days—but that wasn’t actually true. With how the later floors drastically increased in difficulty, I would have needed to climb much more than just seven floors to match a pace that saw Black Tower surmounted within a week.

  But I was at least allowed to pretend.

  I was also allowed to be proud of my team, and I was especially proud of Golurk. Even though they were my newest Pokémon, they had somehow been able to get through the toughest floor we had faced.

  “Very well,” the elevator attendant said, bowing her head in acknowledgement. “Would you like to be returned to the lobby, or would you like to be brought to one of your available rest floors?”

  For clearing floor five, I now had access to an area dedicated to giving trainers a chance to rest. As far as I was aware, there was a floor like that on every fifth level.

  As tired as I was, visiting that place was tempting, but I didn’t accept right away.

  “Can I take a second to answer?” I asked. “I need to check in with someone else, first.”

  The attendant nodded once more, and I quickly tapped out a text on my watch. I wasn’t sure if Cee wanted me to return to his... laboratory? His office? His floor?

  His building.

  I wasn’t sure if Cee wanted me to return to his building or not right now.

  Hearing the beep that signalled the message had been sent, I leaned against the elevator’s wall to relax and catch my breath. I turned off the camera on my shoulder, and with this brief lull, it was like the full six hours of running and battling were hitting me all at once.

  But after only a few seconds, my watch beeped again, and I had already received a reply from Cee.

  “Your victory in that last battle was more impressive than you might have realized,” his message read. “I will elucidate once I take the night to analyze the data. For now, enjoy your carousing and libations.”

  I blinked.

  “...Elucidate? Carousing and libations?” I repeated. I shook my head. “Who even speaks like that?”

  Still, something about Cee’s thesaurus-like language saw me let out a short laugh.

  Soon, my team and backpack were returned, and I wasn’t sure if the three Revives I received as a reward were ironic or not. Then, for the first time since I had entered Black Tower, the elevator arrived on a lower floor, and I stepped out into an elevator-filled hallway with the smell of freshly-cooked food coming from one direction.

  I took only a few steps toward it before a voice echoed out from behind me.

  “Wait up!” that white-haired trainer shouted, running out of another elevator. “You mentioned selling something?”

  “I did, but do you mind if we chat over a meal?”

  The smell was coming from what was basically a mall’s food court. It was almost an entire plaza of easy-to-access restaurants, and its entire central area seemed to be dedicated solely to rest.

  Tables and chairs were spread out in all directions, with each one placed a good distance apart to make room for even the largest of Pokémon on a trainer’s team. There were places in which the floor had been lowered, forming cushioned seating areas for group discussions. A few support pillars were plastered with advertisements, with almost all of them discussing events or locations on the upper floors.

  As late as it was, there were hardly any other trainers here, but all of the restaurants were open and accepting customers. Before I ate, I made sure my team got rewarded for all of their hard work, giving Valiant a sweet treat, Liepard sushi, Metang a tray of flavorless frozen yogurt covered in iron shavings, and Rotom access to a table with an electrical socket in its middle.

  And then, Golurk got nothing.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t by choice.

  I tried to see what kind of food they would be interested in, but I couldn’t forget that Golurk was a spirit possessing an ancient golem. Unlike Valiant, whose mechanical body mimicked a biological form, Golurk didn’t even have a mouth. They were essentially a being made out of solid clay.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly to them. “I don’t know what I can give you other than rest, but you did amazing today.”

  They bowed their head as I sat with a tray of food at a free table. To give them the chance to recover, I returned them to their Ultra Ball, and the rest of my team found places to relax and eat around me.

  “Yeah, this place is pretty cool,” the white-haired trainer said, sitting down across from me while I bit into my food. He just had some fries, but for me? We were in Unova, the Pokémon world’s version of America.

  I bought a burger.

  A real burger.

  The only thing different from what I was used to was that it was slightly spicier and completely vegetarian.

  “Black Tower is like its own little city,” the white-haired trainer mused as he idly picked up a fry. “One that’s separate from even Black City itself. Climbing the floors here is hard, and it’s something that some people dedicate their entire lives to.”

  “Of course, for some of those trainers, Black Tower is more about the easy access to battles, or even just about the free space.” He paused for a few seconds to chew. “Trainers can get free rooms here—both permanent and temporary. Some people even run businesses out of the lower floors! I mean, with a strong enough team, you can claim an office space and then never have to travel or even pay rent.”

  “So then, people just... live here? And work here?” I asked, swallowing my bite and wiping my mouth.

  I knew that this tower had more to it than the games, but I didn’t expect one building to be the equivalent of an entire settlement.

  “Yup,” the white-haired trainer answered casually. “I think this place has a few hundred permanent residents? Thousands live here if you count everyone trying to climb the tower. Some people even forgo the physical rewards in exchange for cash, but as long as you’re participating in battles, you’re allowed to stay without cost.”

  I hummed.

  Huh. So if I wanted to save money, I could stay here instead of a hotel. And with rest areas like these so close to the battle floors, I wouldn’t really have a reason to leave.

  That thought made me pause.

  But that’s probably the point, isn’t it? I realized. To encourage trainers to stay for as long as possible. More trainers mean more battles, and more battles mean more things for people to watch and more room for advertisements between fights.

  “I wonder how long some people have gone without seeing the sky,” I mumbled.

  Giving up the chance to see the world was absolutely not for me.

  “The sky? Hah,” the trainer across from me replied. “In my case, it’s been a few days.”

  I felt myself shudder.

  “You know, I’ve also heard that the rest floors get fancier the higher up you go,” he continued, whispering and leaning in as if sharing some kind of big secret. “The better your team is, the better services you get. And I’m here for the long run—I’m gonna climb as high as possible to get a room on one of those floors, myself!”

  With that, he leaned back with a grin, rolling his shoulders while letting out a laugh. I did my best to reply with a polite chuckle, but I was really just taking a moment to pause so I could chew on another bite.

  “So you’re staying here for long?” I asked.

  “Kind of. I’ll probably head out after Black City’s tournament,” he replied.

  I’d almost forgotten about that. Of course, I had only learned about it earlier today, but I hadn’t yet decided whether or not I’d compete—only that I needed to defeat Benga before it took place.

  “Anyway,” the other trainer continued, “that’s enough rambling from me. You did say you have something to sell me, right? I never caught your name—I’m Adam.”

  “Nicholas, but call me Nick,” I said, offering a cleaned-off hand. “Since I saw your Alolan Sandslash, I was wondering if you wanted to buy a Never-Melt Ice—or at least something that’s well on its way to becoming one.”

  “Weird way to put it,” Adam said. “But you got me; I’m interested. Let’s see what you have.”

  I pulled out the remains of Rotom’s frozen microwave. Upon seeing them, Rotom looked up from where his arms were stabbed into the electrical socket to let out a sad “Brzt...” at the sight of his old machine.

  “Huh. You must have fought a strong Pokémon for this to happen,” Adam mused, looking over the ice-covered material. “Actually, how about this—I’ll pay twice the asking price if you tell me what Pokémon froze over all this metal.”

  “No deal,” came my immediate reply.

  Despite my lack of hesitation, Adam took that refusal in stride, and he let out a merry laugh.

  “Yeah, that’s fine, that’s fine! I figured that’d be the response, but don’t worry about it,” he said. “You saw Sandslash—I’m from Alola. We’re used to keeping strong Pokémon secret. Mind if I pick it up?”

  I nodded to give him the go-ahead.

  Adam went on to pick up the largest of the chunks only for its severe chill to force him to immediately set it back down. Instead, he took out a Pokéball to release his Sandslash. It was still tired and injured after the last battle, but he needed it to only stand there and inspect the ice.

  “So. You didn’t cut it up to prepare it?” Adam asked, watching his Sandslash take in the ice. “That metal Gallade of yours looks like it could have done it.”

  “You mean my Iron Valiant?” I asked, correcting him. “No. I didn’t want to risk damaging the ice before I sold it, but you can do whatever you want with it if you buy it. Chop it into cubes, re-sell it, or even use it for drinks, if you really want. No matter your choice, I’m certain that it can function as a Never-Melt Ice—holding it, your Pokémon’s Ice-type moves will become that much more powerful in battle.”

  The Sandslash finished its inspection with a sniff and then nodded at Adam, likely confirming that both my words were true and that it could use its metal claws to cut the ice into more useful shapes.

  Adam looked pleased at that confirmation, and we were suddenly discussing numbers.

  Honestly, I was surprised at just how much he was willing to pay—and at how much he was able to pay—but he went on to explain it for me.

  “Most trainers don’t use held items,” he said during our discussion. “People want to rely on their Pokémon’s personal strength rather than any kind of outside enhancement. Except, held items can be a great help, and they’re incredibly useful when it comes to bridging gaps.”

  “And that’s exactly why I need this,” he continued. “If my team and I are to achieve our goals, we need every possible advantage.”

  He stared at where the chunks sat on the table. Kyurem’s ice had not even begun to melt; the table wasn’t damp in the slightest.

  “Can I ask why?” I asked, curious yet somehow already understanding. “Why are you so willing to buy this?”

  “Because,” Adam said, his voice taking on the tone of a trainer who knew exactly what he wanted. “There’s someone out there that I want to impress. I left Alola for the World Coronation Series to achieve that and that alone.”

  He paused briefly to reach into his pack, a Rotom-phone zipping out. It flew over to hover in front of my Rotom, looking at him as if waiting, but he just replied by sticking out his tongue, and the Rotom-phone shrugged just to fly over and confirm the payment with my watch, instead.

  “Over in Kalos, there’s a man who stands at the top of what the Steel type has to offer,” Adam said, helping the Rotom-phone back into his pack once the transfer was completed. “He takes the malleability and the sturdiness of the Steel type to become a trainer that represents what it means to be a true knight.”

  “I want that. I want to join him,” Adam continued, speaking with a conviction behind his voice. “Except, how can I? I’m from Alola, not Kalos, and I’m... probably a bit more lighthearted than he’d be expecting.”

  His next laugh was a touch more morose.

  “But I will impress him,” he said, practically declaring it. “I will train my team. I will join the trainers under him, and to do that, my team and I are going to place at the very top.”

  I nodded my head, understanding his determination. It was the same as mine, after all.

  “So you’re trying to place first in the end of the year tournament, too,” I said.

  “Absolutely!” the white-haired trainer said. “I mean, everyone is aiming to win.”

  “Yeah. To be crowned the victor,” I added.

  “To defeat everyone else,” Adam said, chiming in.

  “To reach first place.”

  “To be the best trainer in the Ultra-Rank.”

  “And to be—”

  My words came to an abrupt halt when what Adam had said practically slapped me across the face.

  “Hold on. The Ultra Rank? Not the Master Rank?” I asked, staring Adam right in the eyes.

  “Yeah?” he replied. “What, do I look insane?”

  I found myself unable to reply for several long moments.

  “So you’re... only aiming for the Ultra-Rank tournament at the end of the year? And not the Master-Rank one above that?”

  Adam laughed.

  “Oh, yeah. The Master Rank tournament. The Champion-tier one. I’m definitely aiming for that,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Look, man. That’s just not what the average trainer can do. I mean, defeating Champions? I gotta ask: did you watch the Series before this one?”

  To that, I shook my head: I hadn’t. Of course, I’d been in an entirely different world at the time.

  But Adam still nodded along as if my denial was exactly the response he expected.

  “How do I put this...” He tapped his chin. “Think of it like this: see that sundae your Iron Valiant is eating? Every tier is like its own piece of that.

  “The Normal Rank is the cup—it holds everything, but no one is really that interested in it.

  “The Great Rank is the Nanab berry on the bottom—it’s there, but it’s not really the main interest.

  “The Ultra Rank, meanwhile, is the ice cream. It’s the real reason why everyone likes sundaes.

  “But the Master Rank?” Adam continued, grinning. “That final, elite-of-the-elite tournament? Now that’s something else. It’s the Cheri on top—the one, tiny thing that makes everything feel complete.”

  “Except,” Adam went on to say, pausing briefly to take another bite of his fries, “no one is eating a sundae just for the Cheri. It's extra—fun to have, but not really needed for it to be whole. So, sure, I guess I could shoot for that, but I’d just be setting myself up for failure. It doesn’t matter how strong my team gets; the Master Rank tournament still only involves sixteen of the very best of the very best.”

  To him, the idea was completely ridiculous. It was as if the mere thought of competing with Champions wasn’t even a possibility.

  And he wasn't even wrong. For the average trainer, the World Coronation Series might as well have been about who'd place first in the Ultra Rank Cup. The Master Rank Cup was just a bonus, a competition to see how the strongest trainers in the world ranked.

  Trainers would always speak about wanting to match up with their local Champion, but no one really thought that they could achieve that. It was a sky-high goal—a ridiculous one. It didn’t help that most people practically worshiped the trainers that stood at the very top.

  “But if that’s what you're aiming for, then more power to you,” Adam said, continuing to speak casually while he ate. “I just think that it's better to have a more reasonable goal. Not even Wikstrom is in the Master Rank, but he's also not competing this year.”

  “It's just...” I found myself staring at my half-eaten burger. My fists rested on the table. “Isn’t it better to try than to give up before you begin?”

  Adam laughed again.

  “Sure, but that’s still only you trying. But then again, I guess even just trying to reach the Master Rank is impressive in and of itself.”

  He looked at me again, humming. For a second, he seemed to be in deep thought.

  “You know, I think I get it,” he suddenly said. “It’s no wonder that masked guy promised to help you back then.”

  Bringing a hand through my hair, I breathed out, forcing myself to be calm. As I did, I realized that my team had gone quiet around me. I had been so focused on making my deal with Adam that I hadn’t realized that they were now glaring. Meanwhile, Adam just continued to munch on his fries, either unaware or uncaring of the hostile stares being sent his way.

  I had nothing else to say, and this guy became more focused on finishing his food than anything else. His Sandslash clawed at the perfectly frozen ice for a bit before shuffling it away into Adam’s backpack, and then the trainer returned his Pokémon, standing up with his tray to leave.

  “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Nick, and thanks a bunch for the deal!” Adam said. “That ice is going to seriously help Sandslash. You and your team are pretty strong, so good luck with your goal. It’s going to be crazy difficult if you want to win.”

  “...Yeah,” I mumbled. “Good luck to you, too.”

  Adam walked away, waving a hand.

  “If we fight again, don't expect me to go easy!” he called out.

  And then, he was gone, leaving just me and my team behind.

  For a while, I sat there in silence, taking in what Adam had said. I hadn’t really had the perspective of the average trainer until now. The most I’d ever talked to someone was either in idle chit-chat, or it was with someone who had already found where they wanted to be in the world.

  Like the Gym Leaders in Paldea, or Dianne, who had retired from her Pokémon journey to live comfortably as a Ranger.

  “We will reach the top,” I said, staring at my food before looking up and around at my team. “Forget about that guy. It was never going to be easy. People were always going to think that what we’re trying to do is impossible.

  “But that means we just need to push ourselves even more,” I continued. “Adam’s words were... annoying, but they were just that: words. We’re the only ones who can judge our potential.”

  And then, I paused for a brief moment.

  “And Cee, too, I guess,” I said quickly, lightening the mood. “He promised to help, after all. And that means we already have someone else who believes in us, and I know we’ll get even more once we start racking up successes along the way.”

  I could actually laugh at that. With how the battles in Black Tower tended to be streamed, I wouldn’t be surprised if my team earned themselves some fans just by climbing through the floors here.

  “Anyway.” I pushed my plate away, no longer having much of an appetite, even though my stomach was still rumbling slightly. “Seven floors in one day? You all were incredible. So, c’mon. We should head out soon. We only have this one month for this stage of our training.”

  Even though I said that, we didn’t leave right away; my team needed to finish their food. But, once their meals were gone, we left the tower to return to Cee. There, he had locked himself in a lab to analyze all of the battle recordings, but he was still able to send us a message containing instructions on how to get to our provided room.

  Despite everything, my team and I slept peacefully. The next morning, we woke up completely and fully rested.

  We were more than ready to take on any challenge that Cee had prepared for us.

  Meanwhile, the Lunar Feather silently sat on a bedside table nearby.

  Pokémon mentioned in this chapter:

  Sandslash (Alolan)

  Nick’s Team:

  Current Placement: Great Rank

  (Note: Low-level moves have been omitted.)

  Iron Valiant (Valiant) (Fairy / Fighting type, Genderless, Serious Nature, +-n/a)

  Abilities: Quark Drive

  Moves: Fury Cutter, Feint, Dazzling Gleam, Psycho Cut, Night Slash, Close Combat, Shadow Claw, Electric Terrain

  Rotom (Electric / Variable type, Genderless (Male), Quirky Nature, +-n/a)

  Available Forms*: Default (Ghost type), Fan (Flying type), Wash (Water type), Mow (Grass type)

  Abilities: Levitate

  Moves: Charge, Thunder Wave, Discharge, Shadow Ball, Thunderbolt, Thunder, Electric Terrain, Variable*

  Variable Form Moves*: Air Slash (Fan), Hydro Pump (Wash), Leaf Storm (Mow)

  Liepard (Dark type, Male, Naughty Nature, +Atk/-SpD)

  Abilities: Limber, Prankster

  Moves: Assist, Snarl, Fake Out, Bite, Torment, Hone Claws, Slash, Taunt, Night Slash, Shadow Claw, Psycho Cut, Encore, Foul Play

  (Steel / Psychic type, Genderless (Male), Adamant Nature, +Atk/-SpA)

  Pokéball: Ultra Ball

  Abilities: Clear Body

  Moves: Take Down, Metal Claw, Confusion, Zen Headbutt, Magnet Rise, Iron Head

  (Ground / Ghost type, Genderless, Brave Nature, +Atk/-Spe)

  Pokéball: Ultra Ball

  Abilities: Klutz

  Moves: Pound, Astonish, Defense Curl, Mud-Slap, Shadow Punch, Iron Defense, Magnitude, Heavy Slam

  enormous thank you to everyone reading! Your support keeps this story going.