I Will Touch the Skies – A Pokemon Fanfiction

Interlude – Number’s Game

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INTERLUDE - NUMBER'S GAME

"Thanks again for coming on our podcast, Denzel. Your friend group is tough to get a hold of and has been basically impossible to contact since Sunyshore, but with issues of the raid, that's understandable," Goalducc said. "There's one last question some of our listeners had on their minds before your big day, and that's if you're willing to share a little bit of what you're planning for Byron?"

Denzel ran a tired hand through his hair. He liked Andrew, and he was doing him a favor by being here and boosting his numbers, but he was so tired after having trained so much that he could barely stay focused. In all honestly, he felt a little ashamed of having come here while not having been able to give it his all. It wasn't like he wasn't benefitting too. He was wearing his brand new merch, a pretty white and pastel blue shirt with Sylvi and Denzel crouching next to him on it. There were pink ones too, to go with Sylveon's color scheme, and these two were his personal favorite. Denzel took a discreet breath as he leaned toward his microphone and made sure he was still smiling for the camera.

"You know how these things go, Goalducc. I can't risk Byron listening in and adapting whatever he already has planned for me. I know there's been a lot of noise about me lacking the firepower to beat him, but me and my team have put in the work to win, and that's what I'll show in two days."

Archive chimed in. "Either way, it'll be an interesting fight. You'll be the second first-year to challenge a Gym Leader for their eighth this Circuit. Barry Lane was the first and secured a narrow win against Candice."

"Well, Lauren would have been second had Candice not been so busy up north, but a fact is a fact," Goalducc agreed before clearing his throat. "As always, we'll be live-commenting the battle, so everyone feel free to subscribe not to miss this. Thank you again for listening."

Denzel and Archive followed suit, bidding their viewers farewell as Andrew ended the stream. Finally, he stretched, feeling the bones along his back, arms and fingers crack. Sylvi had his ribbons wrapped around Denzel's legs and was sleeping under the desk after a day spent nothing but training, save for a few eating breaks.

"That was good, right?" Archive said. "We beat our live viewer record. Leave it to Denzel to bring in attention."

Denzel rubbed his eyes. "It was fun, but I've really got to catch up on some sleep. I need to be in peak form, or I'll battle worse."

It was the little things, that added up in battles. How tired you were equaled how quick your reaction time would be. How efficiently you'd be able to keep track of every moving part and catch on to traps faster. Traps that would for sure be laid, in a fight for your eighth Gym Badge. Denzel knew that Byron would target his offensive capabilities already. Studying your final Gym without looking at your own weaknesses would be a surefire way to lose. That was, of course, easier said than done, but he had gotten better at it after Sunyshore and luckily, Byron had fewer Pokemon species to pull from than every other Gym Leader, so that put some of the pressure off.

"Well, good luck!" Andrew said. "Look forward to the post-battle analysis."

"Will do. Have a great night."

He hung up and sprawled out on his Pokemon Center chair due to the fact that Altaria would peck at him should he try to get in the bed while she was grooming herself. He had spent nearly thirty minutes daily cleaning up her feathers so the cleaners wouldn't have to after he left the room, though he knew it could have been worse. The tingles and numbness from his back injury came back in full force now that he was no longer distracted. The pain, too. It could have been worse, he knew. I was lucky.

"Finally over," a robotic female voice rang out. "That was boring. They didn't even talk about me."

Denzel turned toward Lopunny, who'd been using a text-to-speech app on her phone. "To their credit, you didn't have the opportunity to do much against Wake, so it's been a while since anyone has seen you fight in a serious capacity."

Lopunny frowned. "Ban the roof meme."

Again with this? It had been so long since Sunyshore, and the joke of her ´losing to a roof' had turned into a popular GIF that had even spread overseas, especially in Kalos, for some damn reason, but it wasn't that bad, was it?

Or… maybe it was.

"I can't ban memes on channels that aren't mine."

"Fuck you. Lovingly."

"Sure," Denzel snorted.

The normal type huffed, turning away from him while Roserade snickered at the side of the bed. A thorny vine had extended from her flowers, which she was examining with very close attention. It was an attack useful against fleshy Pokemon and one of her favorites, though it would have little effect in the battle with Byron. Either way, Milotic and Froslass were in their Pokeballs and the latter would be let out tonight so she could go off and practice what they'd been working on for some final adjustments.

Denzel unlatched his leg from Sylvi's ribbons and got ready to call it a night, going through the usual routine. Brushing his teeth, going through his new skincare routine, and going over a list of things he could improve on, both in his general life and Pokemon battling. Sylveon's relationships with the members of the team had largely recovered, though they'd grown out of the crush they had on him save for Milotic. It certainly made training easier and more drama-free, even if the bickering rarely stopped. He supposed it was just the way things would stay, and he didn't mind it much. Deep down, he knew they all loved each other, even if Lopunny was currently using her phone to make fun of Altaria's feathers and record her reaction. That gave him an opening to quickly sneak into the bed, though he wouldn't turn off the lights for a while yet.

I haven't been alone… ever, huh? Denzel thought, staring at the ceiling. Pauline had brought him here, but left to see Emilia right after, and he hoped they'd be doing well together even if he did miss them both. It wasn't like Emi was really talking to him, at the moment. Though he was technically in the loop, he had never felt more out of his depth than now, with the group fractured and tensions slowly building up. Grace and Cecilia were at the League, which was information he needed to keep private, but he was happy his two friends had finally made up and looked to be having a wonderful time, from all of the pictures they were posting. Never mind that Denzel was a little jealous they got to see the League so early. Mira was difficult to contact as always. Justin and Louis were also in town, but they hadn't seen each other yet because Denzel had been so busy training, as had Chase—

A knock on the door, and voices behind it. Denzel, who had already been about to fall asleep, rolled out of bed with a tired groan. This had better not be a fan. He would smile, sign an autograph and talk for a few minutes, but he wouldn't be happy about it, especially when he had put out a statement online about not bothering him during these times. Well, he at least had one more day to catch up on his sleep, so talking to kids looking up to him wouldn't be the end of the world. Craig always did it, after all.

Denzel opened the door. "Hello—"

"Ah, you're still awake," Louis said with a thin smile. Behind him were Chase and Justin.

"Obviously, he's still awake, he was just on a damn podcast thing," Chase rolled his eyes. "Let us in, Williams."

The tiredness that had seeped into him seemed to vanish. "Holy crap," he beamed. "The boys are all here!" He hugged Louis, patting him on the back and wrapped an arm around Justin's back and patted it too.

"You're killing me," he groaned. He was as pale as always, and his voice was emotionless, but Denzel appreciated the gesture.

"Worth it," Denzel grinned. "Chase, I thought you were training."

"You thought I'd let you fight Byron without sending you off? I thought you knew me better than that," Chase said. "Do me a favor and beat him into the dirt, will you?"

"I won't say anything that'll jinx me. Uh, do you guys want anything?"

They all shook their heads, and Chase asked for water, which he promptly gave to him.

"How are you feeling?" Louis asked.

"Nervous, but not that much. You know, I've been trying to go at it with the mentality of it being just another Gym Battle. But enough about that, what have you guys been doing lately?"

"Training," Chase deadpanned.

Denzel rolled his eyes. "Obviously, dude. Anything else?"

"Working out."

"Okay, never mind. Louis and Justin?" He knew the two were basically two peas in a pod, these days. Justin was mostly trying to get his feelings back, and at least acting a lot more cooperative than before. Denzel didn't want to be cheesy and say the cure to Justin's affliction was friendship, but things were… okay, which was a lot better than before. Denzel recalled his Pokemon before they could annoy his friends, especially Altaria.

"I've been taking Justin around, mostly," Louis shrugged. "Though he trains a lot more than I do and takes my Pokemon with him to help while I work with Marty Sobieck to see how difficult getting my sanctuary started would be. It's going… okay. He's very cagey about it."

Right. Grace had given him that name. It was good to see him progressing in his own way, though. You would have to be blind if you didn't think that he'd given up on the Circuit and was only still going so his Gabite and Bisharp could enjoy a fight. His other Pokemon probably wouldn't care much about the lack of battling. Ninetales mostly wanted to laze around all day, Empoleon was happy so long as his trainer was safe and Vespiquen… well, her mindset was too alien for Denzel to understand. Chase leaned against a wall with his arms crossed close to the door so he would be the first one out when they left while Justin and Louis sat on the foot of the bed and Denzel claimed his desk once more.

"I keep telling him that another trainer training his Pokemon might as well be useless," Justin said. "But he says it's better than nothing."

"You know, you don't speak a lot, but when you do, Gardner, you tend to say things that are correct," Chase said.

"Well, coming from you, I'll take it as a compliment," Justin said, clearly unmoved.

"When're you guys planning on battling Byron, anyway?"

"A few days after you," Justin said. "Louis' determination is up in the air. It's a shame I have no one to bet with. 'Will Louis actually battle Byron' could make me a decent amount of money."

They all chuckled at that, which Justin didn't really understand, but returned the smile anyway to pretend he did.

"Chase?" Denzel asked.

"I don't know. But I know that as I am right now, I'm not ready," he said.

"You might want to hurry up, or you won't have enough time to battle him twice," Louis said.

"I know what I'm doing— sorry. I just, you know, I want to do it right," Chase muttered.

Do it right. For Chase, the battle was a personal one, and Denzel knew it. The problem was mostly about the limit for the Red Chain to be completed. Who knew how long whatever was going to happen after would last? But it seemed like Chase was operating like he didn't care, or at least like he was putting his vendetta with Byron in a higher priority than everything else, including making it to the Conference.

"You guys talk to Emilia and Pauline lately?" Denzel asked after a pause.

Chase snorted, not bothering to answer, but Louis spoke up.

"From what I understand, they'll be spending some time together in Hearthome," he said.

"Been a while since it was just them two," Denzel smiled. "I hope they have some fun, at least. I mean, I knew about this, but I was wondering because Emilia and I are kind of fighting."

Chase groaned. "Can we talk about anything else than your love life?"

"We weren't even dating—"

"Sure."

"Well, it's true no matter what you believe," he sighed, turning to Justin and Louis. "Anyway, I won't ask you to talk to her for me or anything, but you know, I just wanted to know if she was fine. She met with her parents recently, so…"

"They were always a piece of work," Justin said. "She'll be fine, though. She's stronger than you give her credit for."

Denzel's eyes widened, then he smiled. "Look at you, getting all emotional," he chuckled, slapping his back.

"You're killing me," he said again.

They spoke deep into the night.

—

"Hey. Hey! You're up."

Denzel snapped out of his daze and stared in the Gym Trainer's eyes. She frowned at him like he was creepy, or an idiot, which he was probably being. It was difficult to get into the right headspace when you were about to start the most important battle of your career so far. Denzel apologized for just staring and quickly made his way toward the arena, each step feeling heavier and heavier as he left the waiting room and climbed up onto his platform. Was it rougher here than the other Gyms? Denzel's feet didn't feel like they were flat on the ground— gah, he was just thinking to fill in the dead air, wasn't he? An attempt to quell his anxiety, which had failed miserably. The platform was exactly the same, and he needed to stop being paranoid. Even if it wasn't it wouldn't have any effect on the battle—

He was doing it again. With a sigh, his eyes scanned the battlefield.

Metal. Cragged metal encompassing the entire arena. It was a mixture of grey and rusting red, with many hills, holes and small fissures that made it imperative for a Pokemon incapable of flight fighting here to have good footing, at least when compared to the other Gyms. Denzel subconsciously clenched a fist, his eyes narrowing to find a spot for Milotic to make use of, but it wasn't looking good. Every time a particularly explosive battle took place, the battlefield was rebuilt with the same theme, but not perfectly the same. A small ravine that might have been here in a battle he'd watched could disappear the next day and have been replaced by a hill.

It took a conscious decision, to unclench his fist and grab his first Pokeball while Byron climbed up to his platform, his trusted shovel in hand. All this time, he had kept himself busy with work or training to be distracted enough not to be nervous, but this was it. The eighth Gym Battle. All of his life, he had dreamed of standing here, but now he couldn't help but feel like he was a kid facing Roark for the first time with only an Eevee and barely knowing what he was doing. No, this is different, Denzel thought as he met Byron's grey eyes. This was like standing right below a cliff after thinking you'd gotten at least close to the summit and realizing you were nowhere near finished. That no matter what you went through, no matter how quickly you'd grown, the man in front of you had been through more and worse. Byron brought his shovel up to his shoulder and grinned.

"It ain't every day I test someone for their first eighth," he drawled, a bit of his accent slipping through. His voice sounded even deeper than it did on video. It was that way due to lung damage, apparently. "Denzel Williams, for all of your efforts to claw your way up here, I congratulate you." There was a glint in Byron's eyes, almost mad as he pointed the shovel toward Denzel. "But. If you want to stand among the best, you'll have to go through me."

A shiver ran down his spine, half excited and fearful, and the anxiety slowly began to leave his body. Denzel took a deep breath, clasping his Pokeball tight and returned the smile as Byron enunciated the rules. The words were the same— a six-on-six with three switches allowed, but they felt heavier. The stands were so packed that some people were even standing to take a look at his battle. He was used to this enough to know that there was no way he would spot Chase, Louis or Justin up there, but he knew they were watching, and he knew all of his friends were as well, at least on video.

"Send out your Pokemon," Byron announced at the end of this speech.

You can do this.

"Every battle against someone you can't roll over will need an anchor," Craig had once told him. "A Pokemon who your strategy will rely on. The key to success is to create an advantageous situation for that Pokemon to win."

"You're up, Roserade."

The tall grass type appeared next to the small pond with her head held high and poison already dripping from her flowers. The acid dug small holes into the metal, though Denzel knew they were not good enough to affect actual steel types with poison yet. Roserade was just putting on a show, and she glared up at Byron, who rubbed his chin with an interested look. He was thinking? Why? Shouldn't he have a counter for everything he brought? Denzel calmed himself down with another clenching of his fist as Byron sent out a massive Ferrothorn. It was cloaked in an armor of hardened steel and covered by sharp thorns. The steel type used its three spiky balls linked to its body by thick vines to move itself in a slow, sluggish manner that Denzel knew meant it wouldn't be able to dodge any of their attacks. Ferrothorn was one of Roserade's biggest counters, and but not as big as something like a Skarmory or Forretress. Already, they'd been caught off-guard, but he had prepared for this.

"Frenzy Plant," Denzel said.

Suddenly, grass bloomed in the cracks between the metallic floor, but that was only the precursor to the giant thorny roots as thick as trees that burst out of the ground in their half of the arena. Each thorn dripped with poison so foul purple smoke began to spread across the arena, but that was unfortunately a secondary effect that wouldn't have much use here. While the forest of thorns grew tall enough to reach the arena's ceiling, Byron swept his shovel.

"Sandstorm, Spikes, Stealth Rocks!" the Gym Leader grinned.

The wind picked up as thin particles of sand began to rush across the arena. A few grains at first, but then enough to make him have to squint to see what was properly going on. Ferrothorn began to shed sharp, metallic spikes and rocks from its body, which were then picked up by the Sandstorm and swept across the arena, tearing small cuts across Roserade with the grains of sand. Now her Synthesis is fucked, Denzel thought, but that was fine. Not like he'd expected her to heal for free, and they had come up with other ways to sustain themselves in battle.

"Grapple it and keep yourself healthy with Life Dew," Denzel continued.

With heavy breaths, Roserade grunted, and a few of the massive thorns lowered themselves to wrap around Ferrothorn. The steel type began to revolve until it became a blur, and its Gyro Ball tore across the Frenzied Plants— with difficulty, Denzel noticed with a smirk. The heavy winds from the Sandstorm masked Byron's orders, though, so he would have to work with his gut from now on. Craig had told him that he had good instincts, so he would trust himself. As Roserade knelt next to the pond and water coated her leaf-like skin, there was a shimmer within the Sandstorm that signaled the use of Iron Defense. Ferrothorn threw itself forward with its three vines, using Gyro Ball to free itself each time it got caught.

But they were buying time.

"Seed Bomb."

From under Ferrothorn's feet, something exploded, tearing the nearby thorns asunder. They exploded with poisonous gas and liquid that ate at Ferrothorn's vines, slowing it further as massive bursts of green light and dark smoke overtook the steel type. Denzel had known that Roserade's specialization in poison would not work in this Gym, so she had worked exclusively on her grass typing for this. The frenzied plants had hidden seeds deep in the ground, ready to explode at her command.

It was only dealing negligible damage, though. Ferrothorn kept advancing, ignoring the chips in its armor as it lumbered forward within the Sandstorm. A sphere of light materialized in front of Ferrothorn as it anchored itself sideways onto one of the thorns, which sagged under its weight. The Flash Cannon became a single point and flew toward Roserade with an ear-piercing screech. The poison type was too far away from any hills or rocks to hide behind, so she slid behind a thorn, but they'd both known it wouldn't be enough. The beam of light tore through the thorn and bore a deep hole in Roserade's back as the impact threw her away from the water.

Then the Pin Missiles came. Hundreds of them, all bursting from Ferrothorn's body with the Sandstorm seemingly speeding them up as they homed toward Roserade with a keen. It looked like Ferrothorn would keep itself anchored above ground not to get hit by the Seed Bombs from now on. It was more agile than Denzel had given it credit for, throwing itself from thorn to thorn with a gracefulness that betrayed its heavy, lumbering frame. The poison dripping from each spine from the Frenzy Plant had little to no effect.

"Extrasensory!" Denzel called out.

There were too many of them homing in in every direction to dodge. The air around Roserade warped, and both the Sandstorm and Pin Missile were suspended in the air in a bubble around Roserade. The grass type squeezed the air around her and the Pin Missiles exploded before they could hit. Byron's mouth moved, and Ferrothorn used the opportunity to crawl back onto the floor and get close enough to Roserade that Denzel's hand almost went to recall her, but not now. Her biggest strength was her survivability, and she could still chip away at her opponent for a while. Ferrothorn nearly landed on top of her with a loud thud as a series of explosions dented its armor.

"Slip out! Use your thorns!" Denzel yelled.

Another brown, thorny vine dripping with poison slid out of Roserade's flowers, wrapping around one of the writhing tree-sized barbs so she could pull herself away before Ferrothorn hit her with an Iron Head. She scrambled back to her feet and glared at Ferrothorn, whose yellow eyes narrowed as another Flash Cannon appeared in front of it. Roserade had pulled herself toward the lake again, and so jumped inside of the water to take cover, leaving a cluster of Seed Bombs behind her. The Life Dew took effect again, and the Flash Cannon cut across at least fifteen thorns.

Does he think she won't be able to use another Frenzy Plant and so is setting up for the rest of the battle? No, no, he's fucking Byron, he isn't stupid. Denzel sucked in air through his teeth as he watched Roserade drag herself out of the water. It was poisoned and full of metallic dust, but she was a tough one. They'd long learned to squeeze pure water out of nothing to heal in case Synthesis wouldn't work. Ferrothorn let out a deep, grinding sound from deep within itself as one of its claws slammed against the ground, leaving behind a tiny crater. The cracks in the floor spread toward Roserade and the pond, only for a blinding light to erupt from the fissure. Denzel groaned, covering his eyes. After blinking away his blind spots, he spotted a light glimmering on Ferrothorn's body. The steel type grazed Roserade's shoulder with an Iron Head, leaving her to use a Poison Cutter across one of his viney legs.

There was a small gasp in the audience as Ferrothorn lost a leg. Denzel had known this to be possible, but this was a battle, not the raid. Roserade unfortunately had other ideas, and Ferrothorn lost its balance, crashing on the floor with a soft thud.

"Use the thorns!" Denzel quickly yelled. No use crying over spilled milk. A win was a win, even if he hated it and would have to speak to Roserade about this later. Ferrothorn was a grass type, so losing a limb was something recoverable in a week rather than a month or longer, and Roserade had known it too.

The Frenzy Plants came to life again, wriggling and creaking against the metallic floor they had grown out of. The ones closest to Ferrothorn arched down and bludgeoned the steel type— five, seven, ten at a time as Roserade strained to keep them under control. The Sandstorm was still raging, in fact it felt like it had strengthened slightly despite all the damage they'd caused to Ferrothorn. With a slight nod, Byron's lips moved and Ferrothorn— the damn thing somehow having excellent hearing— anchored itself in the ground with small brown roots tearing through the metal.

There it was.

The first rug pull.

Ingrain was, for all intents and purposes, basically unusable on terrain this desolate. Of course, that was before Denzel had made grass and thorns grow on it. The vegetation began to die, and Ferrothorn's leg started growing again. What the fuck was that kind of speed?

"Poison Cutter! Target the Ingrain!" Denzel cried out.

Roserade stopped trying to counter the Ingrain and keep her plants from dying and instead aimed her flowers toward Ferrothorn. The line of poison was as thin as a piece of paper and so quick anything but the quickest of speedsters wouldn't be able to dodge. Ferrothorn crinkled, the growth of its third arm stopping midway through, but that didn't stop the steel type from picking itself up and tearing away the roots it had just planted.

The Sandstorm was strong enough now. "Weather Ball!"

Shards of sand gathered until they coalesced into a boulder, and Roserade sent it flying toward Ferrothorn, who was knocked off balance again. Another set of seeds exploded under its legs, and just as Denzel felt like he was gaining the advantage again, Roserade began showing signs of weakening. The way her legs shook and how she took a split second longer to take aim with her flowers, or her lack of screaming at things.

The Sandstorm, Spikes and Stealth Rocks had screwed her. Life Dew had extended the time she'd been able to fight, yes, but the issue was it would never heal as much as Synthesis.

Fuck, Denzel sighed as he recalled the poison type.

"Battling is, at its heart, a numbers game," Craig had told him during their time in Sunyshore. "Lose a Pokemon and fall behind your opponent without a plan, and it becomes exponentially more difficult to win. You should always switch rather than hoist yourself to a sinking ship and lose a Pokemon for free, even if it isn't ideal."

Denzel had wanted Ferrothorn to fall to set up an Acid Rain with Roserade so he could fully make use of Froslass and Milotic, but the Sandstorm was too powerful to even get a crumb of their influence in there. He couldn't wait long, either. Ferrothorn had already rooted itself with Ingrain once more and was regrowing its leg. A week? How about two fucking minutes, Denzel internally spat, grabbing his next Pokeball. He'd be down one switch, now, but that was fine.

"If you have to switch first, make sure you force a switch back."

What he had to do was clear.

Altaria emerged in the sky with a flash of red, her mere appearance clearing the Sandstorm around the battlefield like it had never even been there. Still, the Stealth Rocks all slammed into Altaria, who buried herself behind her cotton-like wings to shield herself from most of the damage, and the Spikes clattered to the ground, lifeless. The Frenzy Plants drooped against the floor, their poison evaporating into smoke, and the cleared weather revealed that the entire battlefield was slanting slightly toward Byron at an upward angle. The Sandstorm had been so powerful it had shaved and eroded the arena, flattening it into a smoother surface.

"Hit it out of the sky," Byron said, now that Denzel could finally hear his voice again.

"Sing," he countered.

The howling Flash Cannon cut across the sky in an instant with a blinding light, and Denzel felt the barrier in front of him rattle. Ferrothorn had powered up, but how? Altaria was not the quickest flier, but she was a defensive one. Cotton spurted across her skin and kept her protected from the worst of the attack, though it did singe her feathers. Somehow, she found herself floating even without flapping her wings. She was a ball of dense, smoking cotton in the air as her muffled song spread through the battlefield. Denzel's eyelids felt heavier for an instant as Ferrothorn launched a series of seeds— too quick to know which ones they were. They landed on Altaria's form and anchored themselves there— Leech Seed. The attack had cost Byron, however. Ferrothorn slumped to the ground with its yellow eyes screwed shut, and Denzel grinned.

"Flamethrower!"

It was a simple, but effective command that would force Byron to either lose or switch. Evidently, he chose the latter, the golden yellow flames simply washing over the iron-rich floor and causing it to glow with a dull red, along with burning some of the thorny vines remaining on the ground. Altaria retracted herself back into her Cotton Guard, floating through sheer force of will. She was a fortress of solid cotton that would not so easily be assailable. Byron rolled his shoulders, letting the full thirty seconds elapse before he released his Corviknight. The steel type rumbled with a metallic screech, its feathers scratching against each other as it took flight. Denzel had seen Corviknight battle Cece and knew Altaria's offense would be lacking here with the way it could reflect any special attack, especially a weak Flamethrower like theirs.

That was why he had come with tricks.

"Sing again!"

"Metal Sound!" Byron quickly yelled.

Denzel ground his teeth as the screeching of metal grinding against metal assaulted his ears far louder than any Sing Altaria could bring about. He could almost imagine her being furious in her fortress of cotton, though she was far too focused to let that get in her way.

"Moonblast, then," Denzel ordered with clenched fists.

If Sing was completely countered, then they had this. Without Altaria needing to even rear her head out of her cotton, a small moon materialized in front of her that burned with golden flames so bright it made the sphere look like a sun. The moon rotated upon its axis, summoning more and more flames that scorched everything its light touched. It was slow to move and had no other effects, but Corviknight squawked in pain and it wasn't even near the Moonblast yet. Byron did not bother speaking, instead, the raven soared high in the sky away from the burning moon as blue flames overtook its entire body. The steel type spun until it was only a blur, bearing down toward Altaria like a missile.

The Moonblast would serve them well while it was there, but it would not be enough, especially when Corviknight had access to Roost.

But so did they.

"Tighten ranks, then Flamethrower," Denzel said again.

Cotton compacted again until it became as dense as stone, and Corviknight crashed into Altaria like a burning meteorite, the force being enough to send her flying back. Still, it had not been enough to penetrate the Cotton Guard. The dragon type bounced against the barrier and tried to sneak in another Sing, but Corviknight was quick on the uptake and screeched again. They weren't going to slip one past them, it seemed. They'd gotten some distance now, but Corviknight hadn't actually ended the Brave Bird. It continued chasing after Altaria, who peeked her head out to release more golden flames toward Corviknight. They simply bounced off of it toward the ground, burning more of the remaining thorns. Denzel was sure they were at least causing damage, but he feared it wouldn't be enough.

They were both incapable of taking each other down quickly. The only question was who would blink and use Roost first. That was the only opening where Corviknight wouldn't be able to use Mirror Bounce. The raven crossed paths with Altaria's Moonblast, and she triggered the explosion early. The attack collapsed in on itself like a dying star and exploded with enough pink, nebula-like gas to fill the entire arena.

It was glamour, and it was scorching hot. Altaria was safe and sound behind her Cotton Guard, but Corviknight felt the strain of fighting inside an arena that must have been in the hundreds of degrees. The metal glowed red and became slick, but it did not actually melt below them yet, which wasn't ideal. Corviknight needed to land to use Roost, and Denzel had thought that could have been a trap to force Byron into another switch. Unfortunately, Corviknight just crashed into Altaria another two times, bouncing her around as if she was weightless, like they were playing fucking pinball. She was hurtled into the barrier once more, and then toward the scorching metal on the ground and her feathers caught fire.

That had not been a part of the plan. Denzel bit his tongue, but he didn't panic.

"Safeguard."

A green hue appeared around Altaria, and the flames winked out of existence before they could destroy the Cotton Guard. Corviknight opted to commit to the attack anyway and stabbed its shining, elongated beak deep inside of Altaria. Denzel heard a small, muffled cry from her, but he was certain they could take many of those if needed. The fact that Byron had honed in and nearly shut down Denzel's entire strategy sent goosebumps across his arms.

"Commit."

It was a simple order from Byron, but it sent a shiver down Denzel's spine. Corviknight squawked, his extending his enormous wingspan as he glided through the sky, slowly speeding up until the air warped around his form. What the hell did commit even mean?

"Moonblast again!" Denzel cried out.

The moon was slower the second time, given that it was a move they'd learned recently, and Corviknight just tore through the nascent golden orb without a care in the world for its melting plates of steel. The explosion caused Altaria's feathers to catch on fire again and started melting the metallic ground, but this time Corviknight stuck to her, and Denzel finally understood.

Byron was either planning on having Corviknight take Altaria down with it, or he was betting that Corviknight would last longer than her under the intense heat of the arena. His lips suddenly felt very dry as Corviknight and Altaria both crashed against the ground and he heard the irritating raking of the steel type's body against the ground and near the now-evaporating pond. Altaria had her Safeguard up behind her Cotton Guard in an attempt to stamp down the flames so they didn't spread, but it would only be a matter of time until something gave, and it was helping Corviknight too.

And Corviknight's body was starting to glow. It was using fucking Roost. Sucking air through his teeth, Denzel called out.

"Astonish!"

For the first time since she had come out, Altaria's Cotton Guard went down fully. Purple shadows swirled around the dragon type's head and neck, and she slammed it against Corviknight, causing a dull clang. The damage was pitiful, but it was enough to temporarily stun the steel type and Altaria wasted no time gathering more golden flames within her beak as her Safeguard went down. Her wings were still on fire, but she screamed in defiance, her stare turning into a piercing glare as the giant stream of flames broke against Corviknight's plates. They'd been regenerating from the Roost, but they started melting again like wax. Altaria kept the Flamethrower going as long as she could, but Corviknight wasn't frozen for long. A brutal sweep from its wing slammed Altaria's head and cut off the Flamethrower, then it placed a talon over the dragon type's neck and kept it stuck to the ground so her skin could burn off. Denzel winced as she screamed in agony, though that screech turned to a Disarming Voice that bought her a second.

A second was enough to slip out of Corviknight's grasp and blast him with Flamethrower again.

"Focus," Byron said.

Their relief was short-lived, and talon met neck again. Corviknight was relentless, cutting across Altaria with sharpened wings over and over. If only Dragon Pulse and their other dragon techniques they'd used against Wake worked well here… but they were unfortunately very restricted.

The burning went on for at least thirty seconds, and Astonish and Disarming Voice wouldn't work a second time— not when they'd been focusing on other attacks this entire time. Froslass could potentially deal with Corviknight, but she'll be needed for the rest of the fight. No one else can deal with it like Altaria can.

It fell onto her to finish this, then. There would be no switching. Denzel met Altaria's eyes, and with that came a deep understanding.

"Moonblast."

The order was barely a whisper, but it didn't matter if Byron figured it out or not. Either he would order Corviknight to stay and they would go down together, which meant Byron was planning on it either way, or they would give and retreat, which would allow Altaria time to Roost. Denzel's mind raced in a thousand different ways, but his gut told him this was correct, and so he watched. The sun— the moon was golden and flames flickered across its surface as it appeared in the midst of Altaria's choking cries, melting the steel right below it into a puddle of red metal.

Byron said nothing, and Corviknight's red eyes just stared as its plating liquefied and began to drip onto the floor. For ten seconds, there was only a silence heavier than any pressure Denzel had felt before coming here.

Then the Moonblast exploded in a light show of pink and golden flames.

"Both Altaria and Corviknight are unable to battle! As the Challenger used a move to self-knockout, he has to send his second Pokemon first!" the referee said, still a little dazzled by the lights. Her eyes were staring upward, and not at the smoldering, unconscious bodies of Altaria and Corviknight.

That was a fine development. A sacrifice Denzel was willing to make, if it meant he could stay up to par in terms of numbers with Byron. The problem was that he couldn't be equal, he needed a push and to get the advantage. Somehow, he would have to break through the wall. Both he and Byron recalled their Pokemon, and Denzel decided to make full use of his time to think.

It couldn't be Roserade. She was too tired and still resting. Froslass would do horribly in such a hot environment, and he needed Milotic to come in first to make full use of her, so it had to be either Lopunny or Sylvi. This Gym was Sylvi's weakness exemplified, but…

Lopunny would be needed against whichever member of Byron's personal team he would use.

His mindset had changed, since Sunyshore. He was not sending out a Pokemon to lose and to do as much damage as possible before going down, no, that was a fool's way of thinking. Each Pokemon had a role to play and needed to find a way to maximize their use. Sylveon materialized onto the hot ground, the metal burning through the glamour shielding on his paws as his ribbons turned to zigzags. The Spikes and Stealth Rocks harmlessly bounced off his hide, but they couldn't get overconfident.

"This'll be tough," Denzel warned. "I believe in you."

Sylveon turned back toward him, and there was a flicker of love in that stare before it returned to the empty, soulless one that he liked to have whenever he fought something, and a Wish emerged from his forehead, flying high into the sky and beyond the confines of the Gym. What would it be, Byron? Denzel thought as he stared at the Gym Leader with a clenched fist. Not Ferrothorn, that was for sure, but—

Byron released a Metagross out of an Ultra Ball. Its blue, metallic body was pristine and glimmering slightly in the golden and pink lights. Its red eyes locked onto Sylveon like a robot, and it began to levitate without Byron's word, lifting its four legs across its body and using magnetism to float.

Denzel knew about it. It was a Pokemon Byron was training to become a member of his personal team, not unlike Wake's Palafin.

And it was so smart and ruthless that Byron barely ever bothered to command it. A common denominator among most Metagross owners. It was, however, also newly-evolved and not impossible to defeat. Denzel's jaw clenched, but Sylveon wasn't nervous, so he had no reason to be. Byron slung his shovel over his shoulder and ordered Metagross with one word.

"Begin."

Another Sandstorm instantly materialized, whipping around the arena with a powerful howl, picking up the Spikes, Stealth Rocks and shards of metal that had broken off the arena. Thankfully it wasn't as strong as Ferrothorn's, but it was still annoying and they'd work to destroy Sylveon's shielding twice as fast.

"Light Screen and Hyper Voice!" Denzel called out.

A thin barrier shimmered around Sylveon as he opened his mouth and screamed so loudly that the Sandstorm around him weakened and stopped. His voice was infused with fairy TE thanks to Pixilate, and it reverberated far. Metagross was already gliding down the now-sloped arena, sticking close to the ground and going faster than Denzel would have given it credit for, and the steel type groaned with a vibrating trill as it crossed the Hyper Voice's threshold.

Denzel's throat tightened, as did his fists as Metagross' eyes glimmered with the intent to kill. It wasn't real. It was just Scary Face, but it felt real to him. Sylveon froze too, and the Hyper Voice momentarily ended and allowed the psychic to speed up. Metagross spun like a spinning top as light coated its fists, and it rammed into Sylveon's hide with its full weight. Before the fairy type could fly off like Altaria had with Corviknight, a tight, psychic bubble wrapped around Sylveon, no doubt slowed thanks to the Light Screen, but not enough.

Before Metagross could hit Sylvi with Metal Claw again, Denzel spoke.

"Play Rough!"

It had been half instinct, half desperation— which he hated, but the strategy itself was sound. Sylveon's ribbons did not change in shape, but there was a slight blur to them as they grew and slammed against Metagross' tough hide and managed to dent it. They were each heavy enough to bludgeon through steel thanks to Sylveon's belief, and Metagross was actually caught off-guard. There hadn't been much footage of what Sylvi was capable of, with the way he had barely fought against Wake and Denzel had stopped streaming his training. The fairy type scrambled to his feet, bleeding from his side as his ribbons batted away at Metagross as if they were independent entities and not a part of a whole. Each impact was louder than the last and sapped Metagross of his will to fight, slowly but surely. Each dent in the metal, each clang, they got closer to victory—

Metagross grunted, and all of Sylveon's ribbons froze in place, and his Light Screen was systematically dismantled in front of his eyes. The Sandstorm broke through the vacant space and started battering into Sylveon's hide. One of the fairy type's eyes twitched when the Psychic moved onto his brain, but pain was not something that had worked to stop Sylveon from attacking in the past, and it wouldn't start now. Before Denzel could even speak, Sylveon screamed with a Disarming Voice, allowing him to slip free for a second.

"Hammer Arm," Denzel blurted out.

Multiple ribbons tied into a knot and struck down on top of Metagross' head like thunder. Cracks spread through its entire body and the steel type crashed against the ground, its hide fusing with the molten metal on the ground.

Sylveon did not normally learn Hammer Arm.

But Sylveon's ribbons being so heavy and him already knowing Double Kick had made the transition easy.

Byron bellowed a laugh while Metagross picked itself up and used all of its legs to jump to the left, but a ribbon Sylveon had wrapped around its leg pulled him back, somehow managing to wrest something over a thousand pounds like it was a toy. With a blank stare, Sylveon wrapped more of his ribbons around Metagross until they were one, and the fact that he was injecting the steel type with calm meant that every movement in an attempt to fight back was sluggish. Byron had come thinking that Sylveon would lose in a melee, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Melees were where Sylveon thrived. With its arms tied down, Metagross opened its maw and an instantaneous Flash Cannon snapped into place. The light wailed as it enveloped Sylveon's entire body and disintegrated the last of his glamour armor.

But that didn't mean another Hammer Arm couldn't blow Metagross apart. This one was aimed for one of Metagross' leg joints, and for a second Denzel felt like he was watching Grace fight. Metagross let out a vibrating snarl, managed to wrest an arm away with Sylveon focusing on destroying his other and a clawed Meteor Mash dug into the fairy's side. This time, Sylveon groaned, but the Hammer Arm still struck true. In the middle of a raging Sandstorm and standing on molten metal, both Pokemon hit each other at the same time.

Sylveon slid back, his fur a blackened, smoking mess as he bled from his side and nose. Metagross clicked in irritation, its leg bent wrong and unable to move properly. Sylvi's Wish bore down from the skies and healed him some, though that Meteor Mash had done some serious damage.

"I told you you were growing too confident," Byron cackled, twirling his shovel on the floor. "Try again."

Metagross groused loudly as it started hovering over the ground again. Walking had never been a part of its strategy, but that was still one less arm it could attack with, even if it had been an accident, and the Magnet Rise was a lot shakier than it had been thanks to its shape now being uneven. Sylveon shook his entire body and somehow stared down at the Metagross, his eyes shining blue through the Sandstorm, even if he was a lot smaller than the steel type. Thank Arceus this one is weak enough to hear Byron, Denzel thought before remembering that the Gym Leader wasn't even speaking. Metagross was smart, but it was apparently prone to mistakes due to overconfidence. That wasn't really a weakness Denzel thought he could exploit, at least not without having planned beforehand. Sylveon put his Light Screen up again and started another Wish as he circled around Metagross. They were running out of tricks to sap his will to fight, but they still had one more.

"Moonblast."

This one was smaller and quicker than Altaria's and within two seconds, it had already formed. The Sandstorm itself seemed to weaken around the moon and Metagross just stared, wobbling slightly in the air.

"Now Hammer Arm!" Denzel called out.

Sylveon's ribbons turned into knots and grew heavier as they shone bright white. His Moonblast wasn't so much offensive-based as it was a way to leave his opponents open to further strikes, and Sylveon jumped with a spring in his step, allowing Denzel to see the way his feet were completely burned to shreds. By the time Metagross realized what was happening, it was too late for him to dodge—

A hit faster than Denzel could see buried itself into the fairy's chest and sent him sprawling on the molten floor. It was cooling, slowly but surely, but it was still scorching hot and more bits of Sylveon's skin and fur burned to a crisp.

How?

Metagross rushed in with an amused laugh, three of its fists coated in metal. Denzel's mind raced in a thousand different directions, yet none of it beyond Metagross pretending to be entrapped by the Moonblast made any sense. That meant Byron had prepared a way for Metagross to resist Moonblast, but hadn't really known the extent of Sylveon's other tricks. Sylveon barely managed to drag himself away from the Meteor Mash, though he couldn't avoid the swing from the other arm and Denzel heard a sickening crunch of broken bone. With a frustrated cry, Sylveon called upon his Moon and motioned it toward Metagross. His was among the quickest Moonblasts he'd seen, and it slammed into the psychic's back with an explosion that had him frozen again.

"Go in!" Denzel yelled. "Shadow Ball!"

His instincts carried him, screaming at him that this was real even though his head was cursing the decision. Sylveon limped toward Metagross and into the pink dust as he gathered a sphere of squealing shadows in his mouth. His control over them had long been fixed, and the Shadow Ball screeched, tearing through the air until it hit Metagross square in the face. The moon itself hadn't been enough, but the explosion and release of apathy had been. Sylveon kept going, slamming heavy ribbons into Metagross' wounded legs with savagery Denzel had rarely seen. The impact from the Shadow Ball had been enough to snap the psychic back to reality, and thick, psychic energy wrapped around each of Sylveon ribbons as soon as it managed to focus.

"Bring it down," Byron said.

Another Meteor Mash finished the job, and Sylveon fell before his second Wish could come into play.

"Sylveon is unable to battle! Challenger, send out your third Pokemon!" the referee said.

Damn it, Sylveon had done so well, and yet it hadn't been enough. Denzel had believed the win to be possible until the end. Still, not all was lost. Metagross was a shell of what it could normally do when it wasn't wounded. It was recently evolved, so it was inexperienced and one of its legs was fucked. Metagross would either fall here, or Byron would waste one of his switches. The teenager ran a hand through his brown hair and then rubbed the back of his sweaty neck. Both Ferrothorn and Metagross are fucked, so it's not as bad as it looks. Relax. He found himself taking deep breaths that had him realize how dry his throat was.

Well, it was time to implement his plan.

Milotic's scales burned when the water type appeared, though they were tough enough to resist the fading heat. The Spikes and Stealth Rocks from the Sandstorm chipped away at him, but it was nothing he wouldn't be able to work through. Had Roserade been able to set up her Acid Rain, then Safeguard would have been able to protect Milotic from the poison and he would have been able to manipulate the water regardless. Enough of it, and even steel would corrode.

Unfortunately, it had to be this instead.

"Rain Dance," he called out.

Metagross' Sandstorm hadn't been as strong as Ferrothorn's, and he was weak enough by now that the darkened clouds weren't hampered. There was a boom of thunder as the rain began to fall and flood the field, though it would all gather toward Denzel's side because the Sandstorm and melting of the metal had kept slanting the arena toward him.

Which was perfect. A large body of water on their side of the field was exactly what Milotic and Froslass would need to make this work. Metagross' Magnet Rise was wobbly because of its unfolded, wounded leg, but it still gathered electricity around all of its clawed fists. The air filled with the smell of ozone, even through the barrier, and Denzel realized that this was possibly among the most powerful Thunder Punches he'd ever seen, rivaling Grace's Electivire. Had Byron known I'd use Milotic to fight Metagross? That hadn't been in the videos he had studied—

There was no time for Aqua Ring or Coil, they had to attack.

"Scald! Burn it!" Denzel ordered, pointing at the approaching hulk of metal.

Foam formed in Milotic's mouth until it burst toward the Metagross in a wide cone that grew the further it traveled. Powered by the rain, the foam landed all over Metagross' body and made the steel type grunt with what Denzel figured was a mix of annoyance and pain, but it was still coming.

"Twister!" Denzel added.

In a single moment, the Scald turned to a boiling tornado that trapped Metagross. The steel type floundered in the water and desperately tried to dispel it with Psychic, but to no avail. He was too tired. The mix of water and draconic energy stretched until it reached the barrier's ceiling, tearing through the dark clouds from the Rain Dance and mixing with electricity from the natural thunderstrikes. Metagross gathered a Flash Cannon that heated up the Twister further, and it burst through the tornado, hitting Milotic directly in the face, but it wasn't enough. The Twister ended twenty seconds later and left Metagross unconscious. The Sandstorm ended with a whimper, leaving Milotic with full control of the weather.

"Metagross is unable to battle. Leader Byron, send out your third Pokemon."

Looking mighty pleased with the battle so far, Byron grinned and instantly grabbed his next Pokeball. Ferrothorn appeared again, which Denzel had known would come. After all, the grass type was a heavy counter for Milotic, even when hurt, and he could regenerate with Ingrain if given enough time to breathe. What he hadn't expected was for Ferrothorn to already be awake… and again, he cursed the fact that Byron's experience afforded him so many techniques that he had no idea how they worked. Ferrothorn's third leg was still a stump, but it was experienced enough to walk on two, and it would only take a single lapse in attention for it to regrow. Or maybe not, now that Roserade's Frenzy Plant was all burned? Still, he didn't want to take the risk. Ironically enough, Sylveon's Wish entered Milotic's body again, but it barely did anything, with how little that Flash Cannon had done.

Denzel was wary, still. Ferrothorn had shown itself to be more powerful than it seemed against Roserade, and upon warning Milotic about it, the water type shared his hesitance as he stared up at the inclined field.

"Sandstorm, then get in close and Leech Seed. We need to take away any means of recovery."

So that was the plan, then. Negating Recover and Aqua Ring with Leech Seed, the Sandstorm, Spikes and Stealth Rocks. Damn it, he was really well-researched in what would fuck him over. Before Byron had even finished his sentence, the Ferrothorn had already willed the Sandstorm into existence. Both it and the Rain Dance battled for influence in a maelstrom of loud wind and roiling thunder, but it was the Sandstorm, that would eventually win out. Still, the Rain Dance would help, but with the Sandstorm came Byron being inaudible again.

"Aqua Ring and Coil!" Denzel yelled through the wind.

Milotic had already been doing this, but it felt reassuring to be able to say the obvious. Ferrothorn crawled down the slope that had become the arena, anchoring each spike ball deep in the metal so it wouldn't slip down and fall. That would have been far too convenient, and given the fact that it had swung from thorn to thorn, it was adept at maneuvering in every direction. Ferrothorn crinkled and ejected Leech Seeds at speeds that shouldn't have been a thing. The seeds arced through the air, and somehow the Sandstorm stopped being a mess of wind in every direction and pushed toward Milotic. The water type slid back down the slanted arena, but a yell from Denzel had him slither away and narrowly dodge the first volley. It would only be a matter of time until they landed, though. The Aqua Ring had come immediately, with thin bands of fluorescent water spinning around Milotic, but Coil? Coil was a more complicated affair. Ferrothorn wasn't giving them time to settle down and use the move.

"Fuck it, use it!" Denzel ordered.

Milotic sang, its body wrapping around itself with a bright glimmer in the middle of the Sandstorm, and four seeds landed on his body, growing thorns that wrapped around him like a vice. Halfway there—

Byron said something, and Ferrothorn dropped on the ground and began to slide down the arena. The raking of its sharp spikes against the ground broke through the howl of the Sandstorm and Denzel nearly covered his ears. He was faster this way— in fact, it was faster than it had ever been. Was that why Byron had made the Arceus damned slope in the first place?! All the work Roserade had done to cut off its leg had been rendered null.

Shit.

"Ice Beam!" Denzel yelled.

In normal, non-fucking Sandstorm circumstances, Milotic would have been able to freeze Ferrothorn where it stood thanks to the rain, but only Froslass could work through the miserable tempest. Milotic screamed out a beam of icy blue, which Ferrothorn dodged by dragging itself to the side and continuing on its slide down. Two of its massive legs glowed neon green, and Denzel's nails dug into his palm.

It can't be Twister, not with the Sandstorm being so powerful. Scald, then.

"Scald!"

He'd said it before he finished thinking. Milotic screamed out a widening stream of boiling water that spread just like before and coated every inch of Ferrothorn's body. When the grass type reached him, it suddenly lifted itself up on its spikes again, coming to a screeching halt before using its half-grown stump to hit Milotic in the neck with Power Whip. Milotic's head was thrown back by the attack, and the Scald went high up in the sky. The Power Whip itself bounced back slightly thanks to the Coil, but it was still Ferrothorn's most powerful move and it showed. Milotic's scales peeled off from the impact, and Pin Missiles burst out of Ferrothorn's body, converging toward the now-exposed flesh. The water wasn't high enough yet for Milotic to retreat and he was too useful to give up on now. Denzel didn't want to switch, but there wasn't much to be done here. Ferrothorn cracked another Power Whip on Milotic's forehead as the Pin Missiles dug into the water type, who could only helplessly retaliate with Ice Beam, and while the attacks did hurt Ferrothorn, it would outlast him by far.

They were completely outmatched.

Denzel couldn't believe he was having more trouble with a Ferrothorn than with Metagross. He recalled Milotic, though the Rain Dance would stick for a while yet. They'd trained and learned about using the weather from Wake, and Milotic's influence would remain in the battle. Denzel waited thirty seconds for the rain to continue to build up, and then released his Froslass. The ghost smiled, letting out an ethereal giggle hidden behind her hand as she flickered out of existence and left behind four clones using Double Team. Rain turned to frost around her, but she did not call forth a Blizzard or a Hail, because she needed the water to be in liquid form for future fights.

And it would all be for this.

Rain falling around Ferrothorn condensed to ice and began to slow freeze the grass type where it stood. Ferrothorn attempted to crawl away and back up the slope, but Froslass was everywhere, yet she was also nowhere and unable to be seen, though he knew the Sandstorm and shards of rock and metal would quickly take its toll on her.

"Confuse Ray!" Denzel ordered.

Her four clones, who were now hovering in each corner of the arena waved a hand, each summoning one light that seemed to dim the world around them. The spirits were a silent hum and completely under the ice type's command as she sent them forth with another non-commital wave. With Ferrothorn slowed and freezing in place, getting him confused would be easy—

Fuck! Ferrothorn spun, becoming a ball of glowing light and destroyed all of the ice around itself. From the shadows, Froslass gathered more frost from the raindrops and formed them into spikes that dotted the entire sky. Byron spoke, and the entire Sandstorm ended instantly, leaving only rain and ice in its wake, and somehow, Ferrothorn sped up again and weaved out of the way of the Confuse Rays at the last fucking moment. Then, it fucking clicked. It was a grass type, so a Sandstorm of this caliber would obviously slow it down, damn it. Denzel wiped the sweat off his forehead and leaned against his knees. Don't panic. Don't get angry. That's a fool's errand.

"Keep the Confuse Rays on it," he quietly said, letting his throat rest from all the yelling. "Add some Will-O-Wisps to the mix, and keep pestering it with ice. Hex if it gets burned."

That was a lot, but Froslass was up to the task. Ferrothorn was no longer dealing damage with just the Sandstorm, now, and it was just desperately dodging. Two of the Confuse Rays disappeared screaming in agony and were replaced by a set of cold, purple flames that began to chase down Ferrothorn, and constant shards of ice battered against the steel type's hide. If it keeps dodging, I'll have to give it up and use Blizzard to freeze the entire damn arena.

Not yet.

Both Denzel and Byron were silent for a while as the two Pokemon danced around the arena, and it was clear Froslass was winning even when holding back from using Blizzard. Freezing an enemy in place using the rain might not have worked against Ferrothorn, but it would work against anything without Gyro Ball or Rollout or some other similar move. They couldn't get close, not when the steel type knew Knock Off. Ferrothorn fired off multiple Flash Cannons to take down Froslass' Double Teams instead, but they just reformed immediately. Finally, a Confuse Ray managed to enter Ferrothorn's body, and the following lapse in movement allowed Will-O-Wisp to do the same. Froslass materialized a few dozen feet away from her opponent, holding out a hand to create a Hex as the air around Ferrothorn froze in place. The steel type tried to thrash around, but its better judgment was gone, now.

"Ferrothorn is unable to battle! Leader Byron, send out your fourth Pokemon!"

Arceus, that had been hard. Never would he have thought that the largest roadblock so far would be a Ferrothorn. Denzel restrained an excited smile. He was one ahead and down one switch, but the math dictated that was a somewhat equal situation, and he still hadn't seen which one of Byron's actual Pokemon he would be facing. Denzel ran a hand over his upper lip and slapped his cheeks to keep himself alert.

"You're doing well," Byron declared. "Now let's keep going."

Denzel returned his grin, and the Gym Leader sent out a Probopass. The rock type's turrets stuck close to his body, and instantly, it whipped up a Sandstorm again. Denzel hadn't known how much the Stealth Rocks, flying spikes and shards of metal had screwed his Pokemon over, but he was starting to realize that he basically had no counters for it beyond Altaria, and he had sacrificed her. Shit. The Sandstorm was just as— no, slightly stronger than Ferrothorn's, even, and Denzel could barely see anything beyond the sandy pool of water Milotic had created with Rain Dance.

"Will-O-Wisp and Confuse Ray again!" Denzel yelled.

Once more, the Double Teams summoned the flames and the lights, but Probopass wasn't idle. Its turrets spun around it and there was a deep, reverberating hum that Denzel somehow heard through the storm. He squinted, noticing the grains of sand near his side of the barrier slowly shift. Clumping together one by one until they grew larger and larger— as big as small pebbles, then rocks. The howling of the wind stopped, and instead, what they were left with was a geomagnetic storm.

It was fucking raining rocks, and these were more than the occasional Stealth Rocks or Spikes. They were larger, and exclusively controlled by Probopass. Thousands of them, at his command.

"Target the Double Teams," Byron ordered.

The teenager blinked as rocks all over the arena swarmed toward each one of Froslass' clones, destroying them in mere seconds. The Sandstorm, they could resist, but this? The clones disappeared, and with them went the Confuse Rays and Will-O-Wisps, kicking and screaming. That plan was moot, then. Froslass' real body phased back into the world high above Probopass and only slightly below the now-fading rainclouds, her hand outstretched, and rain crystalized into ice with continuous cracks around the rock type. Both its turrets fired some kind of homing laser, but it was nothing Froslass couldn't dodge. She was slippery, fading in and out of the world and leaving only ice behind her. Probopass' hold on the rocks grew sluggish, but it was still there, and each hit actually dealt significant damage to Froslass whether she was visible or not.

Denzel considered having her go in and Confuse Ray, but he knew Probopass knew Discharge, and it was always nearly instant. Creating one of the strange lights while she wasn't in the world was tough, so they wouldn't be able to take it by surprise, either.

"Icicle Crash," Denzel muttered. He had to keep the flow of the battle going.

From the muddy lake pooling near Denzel's side of the arena, spears of ice rose and blurred in the air, flying toward Probopass with a loud whistle. The rocks clumped and gathered in front of Probopass to shield it, but Froslass waved a hand and shadows overtook the spears. Their paths did not continue naturally. Instead, they went straight up and hit Probopass' back, which was still unguarded. Thank Arceus for that idea, Barry, Denzel sighed.

"Lock On and Tri Attack, flames only," Byron smoothly continued.

While it was controlling the rocks? Denzel's eyes narrowed, and he kept an eye on the floating rocks. They grew slow, but the 'storm' itself did not abate and kept hitting Froslass wherever she stood. Three blue flames roared to life, two near Probopass' turrets and the other in front of its nose, and the steel type let loose a Tri Attack that was worthy of a Flamethrower. It reminded him of the way Cecilia's Zweilous used to combine their Incinerates to keep up power-wise, and it fucking worked. The sheer amount of heat created rising mist from the almost-exhausted rain clouds and the fact that the attack grazed Froslass chipped away at her too. She groaned, capturing some of the mist and reforming it into beams of ice that melted before they could get anywhere near Probopass due to the continuous stream of flames.

Fuck it, Denzel thought. All or nothing, even if Milotic's strategy will be ruined.

There was no point keeping to a plan if it would lose you the battle. Adapt.

"Blizzard."

The world turned white in barely a second. The ice swallowed the flames like a gust of cold wind would do to candlelight, and Probopass drowned under its colossal weight. Tons and tons of snow, hammering into the world with Froslass at its center, untouchable. The patter of the Probopass' rocks hitting the barrier was good news, because it meant the electric type might be losing control, though Denzel didn't know if he was just getting ideas or not. Thirty seconds, and Denzel called out for Froslass to let the Blizzard down. The entire arena was coated in a deep layer of snow, the lake frozen, and the clouds from Rain Dance having exhausted themselves—

The Sandstorm was still active.

A thin, green barrier shimmered with Probopass at its center. Protect— crap! And the rock type didn't look tired at all and had kept his rock storm going during its use. So not only did Probopass counter Froslass' Double Team and could weather her down and scrape her raw with this advanced Sandstorm, but their ace in the hole, Blizzard, was also a no-go? And he had altered the terrain in a way that would make Milotic far less useful after spending so much time creating a lake for him… shit.

"Lock On and Tri Attack again!" Byron yelled, pointing forward with his shovel.

"Blizzard!"

The wind whipped up the snow, including the existing one and created an even stronger Blizzard this time. Denzel didn't know if he could outlast Probopass in a battle of endurance. While he believed that to be his team's strong point, this was Byron he was talking about. He could at least render the flames useless and give himself time to think. The arena was sloped even further now, at a nearly forty-five-degree angle up toward Byron, and the Sandstorm had eroded at the ground so much there was only a massive cliff in front of Denzel. Arceus, if it still had water things would have been so perfect…

"Froslass, can you hear me?" Denzel tried. He wasn't sure that she would be able to with the Sandstorm working against her, but a cold feeling creeping up his fingers confirmed it. "You're going to dispel the Blizzard, and as soon as Probopass pulls down his Protect, you… burn it with Will-O-Wisp. Confuse him if you can, too."

Another beat of cold to confirm, and Denzel could only feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones. The way his back pounded and hurt, the way he struggled to focus. Him! This was what he did best, and Byron was still beating the concentration out of him through sheer skill. He couldn't give, not now. The Blizzard winked out of existence, and as soon as Probopass' Protect went down, Froslass appeared behind him and summoned a Will-O-Wisp. Byron called out, and the steel type erupted with a powerful Discharge that forced Denzel to cover his eyes, but the metallic grunt from Probopass that followed was a good sign. Froslass flickered in and out of existence, her body smoking as she lowered herself to the blanket of snow she'd laid down with her two Blizzards.

"It's tired," Byron said. "Tri Attack."

There was a sharpness to Probopass' eyes that hadn't been here moments earlier, and the three flames hurtled toward Froslass, who swept her tired arm and created a thick sheet of ice and frost from the snow. Angling it with the arena's angle was tough, but she managed to adjust it and the flames slammed against the ice.

It was only a matter of time until they melted, but it was actually the rocks from the Sandstorm that finished Froslass off. Denzel would have switched her out earlier, but the problem when you were behind in those was that using them willy-nilly was not a luxury you could afford, especially when a massive threat was still waiting in the wings. Craig's advice had been sound, but even he had moments when he let a Pokemon go down because he needed to keep the others healthy.

"Froslass is unable to battle! Challenger, send out your fourth Pokemon."

The good thing was that Probopass was hurt and burning, the purple flames clinging to its metallic skin with the usual screeching. Denzel sighed and grabbed his next Pokemon, though he obviously waited the full thirty seconds because he'd be a fool not to. Roserade's hurt, Milotic's an option, but Probopass knows Thunderbolt and Discharge, plus the terrain is awful for him. Lopunny… Probopass can float high enough to negate her entirely.

Roserade, then.

The grass type wasn't fresh by any means, and Byron ordering Probopass to instantly thin out his Sandstorm back into small grains and shards of rock and metal meant that it would black out any light the poison type could make use of to use Synthesis. I can't waste the precious little energy she has left on Frenzy Plant, Denzel quickly thought. It'll have to be just attacks. No fancy techniques. Roserade's Pokeball bled red onto the snow, and she seemed quite surprised at the state of the battlefield. In fact, she nearly tripped from standing at such a steep angle out of nowhere, but her grip on the snow helped her catch herself.

"Seed Bomb."

Now that the Sandstorm was an actual storm again, hearing Byron would prove impossible, but that was fine, or at least Denzel thought so. He'd seen all of Probopass' gimmicks and knew he would attack with Lock On and Tri Attack. Roserade aimed up with a lethargic motion that had Denzel worried, but the seeds that machine-gunned out of her flowers in rapid succession reassured him plenty. Roserade triggered some of the explosions early with the precision of a surgeon to disperse the flames from Tri Attack before they could reach her and the rest exploded on top of Probopass, chipping his tough, rocky armor. Byron laughed, which was really weird when Denzel couldn't even hear him, but then he said something else, and both of Probopass' turrets just… up and left, floating in different directions until they reached behind Roserade. They were going to attack in every direction, he instantly knew.

"Rain Dance!" Denzel cried out.

If she was going to get burned, then she would at least lower the damage. The clouds were thinner and slower to come than Milotic's, but they did the job and rain began to fall, dotting the entire snowscape Froslass had built before freezing, because it was cold in there. Froslass couldn't create such powerful Blizzards without letting the conditions stick, and the temperatures were definitely sub-zero. An Acid Rain might have stuck, but that would just waste her precious energy. The next Tri Attack was dull and slow— a bright red with a twinge of orange instead of the brilliant blue it had been before, but Roserade was still engulfed by the flames.

But still, she stood.

The bombs did not stop. In fact, some were infested with Stun Spore or Sleep Powder too, something she had worked on, but that Denzel thought she would not have been ready to use before the Conference. Probopass hovered higher and higher in the air as its turrets kept blowing flames at Roserade and it reeled from the burns, drowsiness and paralysis, but she would be able to reach it wherever it went, because she didn't give up.

It was then that Denzel decided to gamble. To let her keep pushing in hopes that she would win. Roserade screeched in the same way she had done as a young Budew he had caught all those months ago with fire in her eyes that was her own. She got down on one knee, her leaves burning to a crisp, but she still kept using Seed Bomb.

It was Probopass' turrets that went down first, then the actual Pokemon a few seconds later. While the referee announced for Byron to send out his fifth Pokemon and the Sandstorm abated, Denzel instantly ordered Roserade to use Synthesis. The thing about Byron was that while he was good at using Sandstorm, he was no Wake with Rain Dance. The weather always changed back seconds after his Pokemon fainted. Roserade's form was a mess of burning leaves and flowers, but light spluttered out of her as she groaned, and Byron caught on immediately, sending out a tiny Mawile so quickly his hand blurred.

"Taunt!" he yelled.

The Synthesis stopped, and Roserade's intense stare turned into a glare full of ire. She slowly stood, her wounds barely having healed and aimed toward Mawile with a single hand. Leaves surrounded by every color burst out of her, and all flew toward the small steel type.

"Crunch," Byron added. "Then Sucker Punch—"

"If you can hear me, use Stun Spore!" Denzel desperately yelled.

Mawile turned around, revealing her huge mouth with rows upon rows of sharpened teeth wreathing with darkness. The mouth opened, drooling all over the floor, and snapped around leaves faster than Denzel could follow with his eyes before blurring toward the still-enraged Roserade. Mawile slammed her mouth into her gut and sent her sprawling on the snow, her body unmoving beyond the smallest of twitches.

"Smoothen the floor," Byron said. "It's time."

Denzel blinked, ready to grab Roserade's Pokeball, but it was then that he noticed that the Rain Dance wasn't stopping. It was weakened, but not gone, and both Byron and the referee probably thought that she was like Milotic and could keep it going for a while after fainting.

But she was not.

There was a sudden quake below the ground as pink dust spread from Mawile, roiling and spreading throughout the snowy field.

"Roserade is unable to battle—"

"Life Dew! Use the rain!" Denzel screamed.

They'd never done it before. A Rain Dance that weak wasn't enough water to heal a Pokemon, and half of the raindrops were frozen before even reaching her. There was a slight glow to Roserade as she rose with slow and deliberate movements that made her look like she was one large breeze away from collapse— no, she was. Byron looked genuinely taken aback, and with Mawile having retreated far away to pull whatever glamour trick she was doing, they had an opening.

"Leech Seed," the teenager breathed out.

If they could get it to land on Mawile and keep regenerating with Life Dew, they were squeezing water out of a stone. With half-opened eyes, Roserade coughed up smoke and lobbed a seed toward Mawile with a precision that betrayed her state. Now, Mawile could either dodge and interrupt whatever their plan was, because it looked big and would take a lot out of it, or it would turn around and use Crunch again, in which case the Seed Bomb Roserade had no doubt hidden in the mix of Leech Seeds would explode in there.

He didn't like it, but he was in an Arceus damned knife fight, here. There could be no holds barred, or he would just lose.

What now, Byron?

What Denzel hadn't expected was for Mawile to bear with and take the attack. Some of the seeds wrapped around the steel type, while others exploded, but the ground kept… shaking. Rearranging itself. Smoothen the floor, Byron had said, but what for? How would he use this to his advantage? Both of Mawile's mouths screeched as she finished spreading glamour throughout the floor, and Byron cracked his neck.

"Flamethrower."

Mawile turned her back to Denzel and Roserade once more, and now he knew their luck had truly ran out. Roserade went down before the golden flames even reached her, even if they were so weak that they didn't even melt through Froslass' snow. The referee eyed Roserade as if she expected her to rise again, and Denzel couldn't help but smile. She'd done the team proud.

"Roserade is unable to battle! Challenger, send out your fifth Pokemon!"

It all came down to this. One switch left, with Lopunny and Milotic both completely healthy even though the latter had fought a little. Denzel gulped with a sound that was caught in his microphone and recalled Roserade as he mulled over his options. Keeping Milotic in the back would be smarter, given the fact that the temperature is slowly rising and he'd be a little constrained right now. Worst-case scenario, I can swap.

Lopunny it was. Denzel released the normal type onto the snow, and just like Roserade, she was surprised at the slope.

"We both have two left," Denzel quickly warned. "Play it safe."

Her feet, her hands and her ears lit up with Power-Up Punch and she warily stared at Mawile, slowly climbing up the slope. The Stealth Rocks and Spikes had been folded into Probopass' special Sandstorm, and so they weren't into play any longer.

"You've done well, Denzel Williams."

Denzel swallowed again and felt goosebumps on the back of his neck.

"It's been a valiant effort, and you and your Pokemon have impressed me time and time again," the Gym Leader continued as he grabbed his Pokeball. "Be proud. You're strong."

Lopunny kept prowling her way up the slanted battlefield, slowly finding her footing. She was not used to fighting in such an incline, and it would be difficult for her to be at one hundred percent. Milotic too, though thankfully they had the snow to anchor themselves on and worse-case scenario, Milotic would be able to use hydrokinesis to lift himself even if it was still crude…

"But your true test begins now."

Mawile retreated into her Pokeball, and out went Byron's sixth.

Bastiodon.

The steel type's colossal form landed atop the snow with a deafening, heavy crash. It bore layers upon layers of scars from old battles and was Byron's oldest companion. Deep gouges ran on its hide and thin ones on the massive shield that was its head. Bastiodon's battle-hardened eyes scanned the battlefield, and it acknowledged Lopunny with a tired grunt.

"Show me that you are worthy," Byron said with a maddened grin. "Show me! Brimstone, clear the snow with Metal Sound!"

Denzel shivered in excitement. It was like electricity had jolted him awake. Bastiodon. Him! He returned Byron's grin and laughed.

Bastiodon— Brimstone opened his mouth and screeched so loudly that he blew the snow around him away— back toward Lopunny. The normal type shielded her ears as best she could as the sound itself brought her to her knees. Brimstone pushed the snow until it was all gathered in the lowest point of the arena, leaving behind steel so slick that it was like it had been cleaned and polished. Mawile's work, no doubt. Lopunny began to slide back toward the pit while Bastiodon somehow stood on it like it was normal ground, and it was then that it dawned on Denzel how much of a long-con Byron had been playing and how fucked the situation was. All the time he'd spent chipping away at the arena with Sandstorm after Sandstorm. Slowly bringing it to an angle that was now forty-five degrees, all for Bastiodon to have this much of an advantage. For a second, as Brimstone gathered a huge Flash Cannon in his mouth within seconds, Denzel felt like he was falling.

He grabbed onto a metaphorical ledge and kept himself from panicking.

"Climb up! Punch through the floor with Power-Up Kick!" Denzel called out.

Lopunny threw herself to the side, but the sheer heat from the stray light had her catch on fire, and that was with Bastiodon holding back. The normal type flexed as Agility loosened her movements and she began her climb, each step puncturing through the steel and allowing her to step closer. Bastiodon's stare sharpened, and Byron ordered a Curse. Shadows poured out of every inch of his body and the weight of the dead began to press down on him, but his defenses would be improved. That meant that Lopunny would be thwarted. The normal type managed to dodge another two Flash Cannons despite being on fire, each step working toward getting her used to this footing.

"Good, good!" Byron exclaimed. "Brimstone, Metal Spikes!"

Out of the smooth metal, Bastiodon tore and molded spikes larger than Lopunny herself, and she started zigzagging to not get hit and thrown back into the snow below. One hit from that, and a lot of her bones are broken, Denzel thought with a clenched fist. "Shadow Ball!" he called out. The least they could do was something while Lopunny tried to climb up there. The darkened spheres were thin and unruly, but they would do the trick. Bastiodon had essentially turned itself into an unassailable turret, but an unmovable one. Most of the Shadow Balls were blocked by the spikes bursting from the ground, but the ones that did hit didn't even make Brimstone flinch.

Expected, but still disappointing. There were more Flash Cannons and more spikes, but Lopunny was faster. She spun to the left, her leg digging itself into the ground as she ducked and another burst of metal grazed the top of her head.

"Bounce!" Denzel ordered as soon as she slipped away.

Lopunny jumped, leaving behind two large holes. She ascended like a meteorite, her body wreathing with flames, and another gust of air pushed her toward Bastiodon.

"Counter!" Byron yelled.

"Fuck! Readjust—"

Bastiodon's head glowed as the steel type squared itself, but Lopunny never did land her kick on him. She outstretched her ears, and another gust of air carried her behind Bastiodon, where she quickly scrambled to her feet despite the sliding. Bastiodon screamed with Metal Sound again. It was the grinding of rusted gears, the sliding of metal against metal, and Lopunny was so close that it was debilitating to her. A spike burst out of the floor below her and hit her right in the stomach. The tips were blunted so she wouldn't be impaled, but it still hurt—

She wasn't knocked away.

She held on, her Powered-Up hand and fingers digging into the metal. Her body jerked around like a rag doll, but she was still there.

"Do it," he whispered.

Lopunny jumped on top of Bastiodon and started to ride him. Every second, she struck his back with a combination of Power-Up Punch and Fire Punch, and she was still on fire. Bastiodon let out an annoyed grunt as the strikes dug into the exposed skin on its hide, and the grunt turned into another Metal Sound. Lopunny gritted her teeth and kept going.

"Shock Wave!" Byron yelled.

Electricity poured out of Bastiodon's skin, and Lopunny tried to fight through the spasms until they grew out of control. Just a little more. Build up your strength a little more… he considered switching, but that would reset all of what Lopunny had gained through Power-Up Punch and Milotic would do terribly in an environment like this. Denzel felt like the wind was at his back, pushing in his sails and a win was achievable.

But he couldn't grow too overconfident. No, not when there was so much on the line. He let Lopunny punch Bastiodon and had her mix in the occasional Drain Punch until he recalled her and sent out his Milotic. There was no point sending him out high up on the slope, considering he would just slide down and get shot by Bastiodon's Flash Cannon.

"Rain Dance and try flying like you did against Wake!" Denzel said. He knew it would be more difficult here, since there was no ample supply of water to draw from, but his own could work. It was the way Cynthia's did things, after all. Clouds gathered over the skies as Bastiodon began shooting out electric attacks, this time. If there was one thing old timers like Brimstone had, it was coverage and the way they could so expertly use it. And they could do it, he knew, just not quickly enough to avoid any of Bastiodon's attack, so it was a risk he was taking. A thin layer of water wrapped around Milotic.

"Keep low to the ground. Hydro Pump as you climb," he added, for good measure.

The burst of water that came out of Milotic's mouth was so powerful the edges turned to foam. It dented the iron spikes that Bastiodon had raised— and he was standing in a forest of them by now— and it managed to work its way across the sloped field and right on Bastiodon's head. Finally, the steel type actually sounded like he was in pain, and the rain wasn't helping its predicament, though the wet ground was helping Bastiodon spread its Shock Wave throughout the field and occasionally hitting Milotic.

"Keep your distance and let yourself heal with Aqua Ring and Recover. He doesn't have the range to hit you with spikes from here," Denzel said.

"Slide," Byron simply countered.

Just like that, Brimstone unlached from his spot and started to slide down the metal. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Denzel's nails dug into his flesh as he scrambled for a new strategy while Milotic kept hitting Bastiodon with Hydro Pumps that met its shielded head. Water was beginning to pool down again, but it wasn't enough to make use of. Twister would be less useful than Hydro Pump, and Bastiodon was too heavy to pull any tricks that way anyway.

Bastiodon reached a screeching halt in the middle of the slope as this time a Thunderbolt ransacked through Milotic. Recover and Aqua Ring wouldn't be enough to bear through the damage, so they had to find a way through now.

"Brine!"

Raindrops turned to sharpened spikes, but the majority of them bounced off of Brimstone's armor while a few buried themselves in his brown hide. It wasn't much, but it was something. Milotic's body shimmered in his water as he Recovered from another Shock Wave, and Byron switched things up with a Flash Cannon that nearly evaporated all of his water and had him fall onto the ground and roll down—

He—

He had it.

"Water! Spit out water!"

While Milotic slid back down on the slope, more and more liquid water slipped through the creases in his scales and soaked the ground even further than the Rain Dance had, and the water type pushed himself with a Dragon Pulse to dodge another Thunderbolt. Since Brimstone was now in range, he tore up more spikes in an attempt to block Milotic's path, and the water type got pushed up into the air by another one, though he barely managed to keep still and catch himself with hydrokinesis. Denzel noticed his Recovers were getting slower and his Aqua Ring duller. Even though Byron was keeping his Bastiodon to three relatively simple attacks, he was awful to fight.

"Ice Beam! Freeze the ground below his feet!"

If Brimstone could navigate the terrain they'd created, then they needed to take that away from him. Milotic groaned when a burst of electricity hit him, but he countered with three arcs of cold ice that coated the already slick metal in ice. Bastiodon began to slip down, and Milotic traced a path all the way down to Froslass' snow which had slowly been melting to some kind of slush as the temperature returned to normal—

"Block and Heavy Slam!"

There was the sound of chains, but they were nowhere to be seen. Milotic froze mid-air, as if he was being held by something and kept there, and Bastiodon's slide had the steel type pick up more and more speed. With the weight from Curse, this is… this is… there was a Metal Sound that had Denzel cover his ears with a wince, and the ice in front of him cracked, allowing him freedom of movement and he steered toward Milotic, who had placed himself low to the ground because of Denzel's orders.

Bastiodon hit him head-on.

Milotic was thrown off into the sky and hit the barrier right in front of Denzel with half of his scales caved in. The teenager blinked, not comprehending what had just happened as he took a step back and the referee's voice asking him to send out his last Pokemon faded in the background.

His hand slowly reached Milotic's Pokeball and before he realized it, it was tightened around it so much his palms hurt. Was he fucked? Bastiodon slowly climbed back up to the arena's halfway point, sliding backwards through the slick metal and avoiding every spire he had raised without even having to look, and Denzel leaned forward to get an angle to recall Milotic. Arceus, he was going to be so apologetic later…

"It's not over," Byron said. "It is not, so you should stop behaving like it is."

He knew Byron was right. He didn't answer, but he knew. Bastiodon had taken many water type attacks and Power-Up Punches, and while he was Byron's starter, he wasn't invincible. Denzel's team was good enough to be here, and their moves hurt. Victory was still achievable, but it would be tough. Mawile was healthy, but Lopunny was, too and the steel type had been hit by Leech Seed. Lopunny would have to do it alone, and Arceus damn it, he believed in her. Denzel rolled his tired shoulders and sent out Lopunny again at the bottom of the field. There must have been a reason Byron had used Block against Milotic only and not her, and it wouldn't be as simple as 'he'd been put into a corner'. No, Block was usually a move on the weaker side of things that people didn't use at this point in their careers, and he had never seen it be used at a distance like this without any physical contact between the two Pokemon.

No, there was a zone the Block would affect, and because Milotic was slow, he was trapped. Lopunny was quick on her feet and had a plethora of fighting type moves, which meant she was good at fighting TE and would potentially break out.

"You're the last," Denzel said. "Agility."

Keep yourself thinking.

The normal type punched the air as her hands, feet and ears burst with light, and she dashed up the hill, speeding up in the process. Each one of her steps took her longer and longer until she was a blur, since she had previously adapted to the state of the battlefield. At a distance, they would lose, and horribly, and they had Bounce to close they gap when they got close enough. This time, Lopunny managed to give the blinding Flash Cannons a wide berth that only singed the edges of her fur instead, and Bastiodon was constantly screeching to slow her down with Metal Sound. Eventually, the spires came into play, but Lopunny was at the top of her game. It was like she was dancing, with how fast she was spinning around and dodging everything.

"Bounce and High Jump Kick. Aim for the back so he can't Counter."

Lopunny left behind a crater when she jumped. She soared through the sky, spinning until she extended one of her feet and blurred forward with a gust of wind so powerful it was the only thing Denzel could hear. The angle was good, the speed was too quick to be interrupted by Block, and she would land right on top of Bastiodon's body—

Byron recalled the steel type, and Denzel's heart sank to his stomach.

Lopunny tried to salvage things. She tried to land in a way that would still have her standing, but she was too fast. She crashed into the metal floor and crumpled as she clutched at her leg with a hiss of pain. Byron released Mawile, and Denzel knew it was over. The steel type finished Lopunny off with an Iron Head to the face.

"Victory to Leader Byron!"

It was… over. There were almost no cheers from the spectators, just solemn clapping. A person losing their eighth badge fight was always respected.

It was over, he repeated to himself, and so quickly, too. One second, he'd felt like he was on top of the world, and the next, the rug had been pulled from under him and it was done. Denzel recalled Lopunny and sniffled, somehow deciding now would be a good time to cry about it. He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes as he stepped down the platform, and he was thankfully good again. It wouldn't do his reputation any good to be caught crying just because he lost. He spared Byron one more look, but the Gym Leader gestured at him to come, walking toward him at a brisk pace. Denzel raised an eyebrow and wondered what that was all about, but he listened and followed suit. Byron was a few inches taller than Denzel was, and his burgundy hair looked even more unruly from up close.

"You fought well, kid!" he yelled, clapping him on the shoulder. Not the back, thank Arceus.
"You trusted yourself throughout that entire battle until the end. It was a mistake with a heavy price."

Denzel frowned. "The end? You mean High Jump Kick?"

"No, no. I mean when you switched your Lopunny for Milotic," Byron explained. "All of your Pokemon are nasty pieces of work, but she was best equipped to finish off Brimstone with Power-Up Punch, and you let the opportunity slip you by."

"Shit…"

He had overcompensated.

"At least that's what I believe," Byron shrugged. "No need to look so down, kid. Iron out your strategy, train a little more, and challenge me in two weeks. You've got what it takes."

"I… I didn't think you would switch, there," Denzel muttered as if that mattered.

In almost all of his Gym Battles, the Gym Leader hadn't made use of all of their swaps, after all, and he expected Byron to be no different.

Byron laughed. "This is the eighth badge, boy. There's no mercy in it."

Right. Obviously, if he messed up, Byron would punish him. He wouldn't just not use his resources and let him win. Denzel sighed and turned away from the Gym Leader.

"I'll be back," he said.

"Let's enjoy another battle, you and I."

Denzel walked out of the Gym with his head held high and a heart full of regret.

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