Thursday, June 1st, 1978, 2100
Grumpig looked at Sula, his eyes wide, as if to say, "You don't think I know that? I'm the one out here busting my ass in this stupid volcano!" The customary cheer the pig-like pokemon brought to all his battles was gone, replaced by a nauseating wave of fear he sent her way due to their psychic resonance.
As she moved to make her first command, Sula noticed that she was no longer sweating. In fact, she felt cold. For a fleeting second, she thought Blaine had been considerate enough to turn on a fan, but the growing shadows around the arena brought her attention back towards The Reaver as she realized in horror what was happening.
In the mere seconds Grumpig had taken to glare at his trainer, Blaine's Ninetales had coalesced nine ragged patches of darkness that sent jolts of pain down her eyes when she looked at them.
Even from nearly fifty meters away, Sula could feel the soul-leeching properties of the powerful Ghost energy Ninetales was channeling.
Stupid idiot, Blaine didn't need to make a command. His Ninetales is a fucking expert psychic. His connection is probably far stronger than Grumpig and I, she realized as the nine Shadow Balls keening with ghostly howling hurtled with deceptive speed towards the singed Grumpig.
Grumpig didn't even have time to cry out in fear before they impacted. In an ironic juxtaposition to the fiery wall he had just weathered, his flesh erupted into huge white patches of what looked like freezing necrotic tissue that rapidly spread across his body from the point of impact.
Sula grimaced as she watched her pokemon writhe with pain at the devastating attack, feeling echoes of faux frostbite tear into her own system that made her hiss in pain even though she knew rationally there were no patches of dying white flesh anywhere on her body. Arceus-damned psychic connections.
The harrowing spheres hungrily ate through the same layer of blubber that had let the previous Fire Blast wash over him like a light summer breeze as the super effective type-energy did its grisly work.
Her pokemon exited the match without much ado, collapsing with a startled yelp into a mass of shivering, debrided flesh. Sula winced as she recalled the injured pokemon, hoping that the tissue damage was the worst of it. Ghost type-energy sometimes left scars far deeper than the surface from her admittedly limited experience with the rare energy type.
"Good job, buddy," Sula whispered to the ball, which wiggled in response, prompting a sigh of relief from her. "I forgot about Shadow Ball when I led with you; that's on me. I'll buy you something nice after we get you healed up."
Shit. I really thought he could tank for a few attacks, thought Sula as she shook off her pokemon's overwhelming loss. I shouldn't have underestimated Ninetales' esoteric ghost typing.
It often went unsaid, but anyone seriously training their pokémon knew that ghost types grew from absorbing souls from either killing or torturing their prey, even though it wasn't widely advertised due to the widespread popularity Agatha, Kanto's premier ghost specialist, enjoyed. With a name like The Reaver, there was no question what Ninetales had been up to in the war, and the power of the fire-type's Shadow Ball sent the message loud and clear.
Sula studied her opponent as she decided on her next pokémon. She was reasonably sure that Ninetales was Blaine's starter, so she felt okay breaking out the big guns for this one.
After all, if I can't get through The Reaver, it doesn't matter what else Blaine might have up his sleeve.
Across the arena, Blaine waited without a word as he let Sula make her decision.
"Alright, Lapras, get out there! I need ya, big guy!" Sula said as she released her sole water type, hoping he wasn't too tired from the journey to Cinnabar. She was mostly sure he would be fine.
The large, seafaring pokémon flopped out clumsily onto the arena with a sizzling noise as his wet skin came into contact with the heated floor, which must have been hotter than she realized. Lapras looked back at Sula with annoyed eyes as he flapped a massive flipper at the rocky surface he found himself on as if to say, "This is bullshit, and you know it."
She did know it, but didn't have much choice in the matter. Water types were nearly unbeatable in their natural environment, but they came with a few distinct disadvantages when competing in the standard circuit. Regulation Gyms were technically required to have at least a small pond in the arena, but it did little to alleviate the problems inherent with pokemon that could do little but flop around on dry land, as was demonstrated by her pokemon this very moment.
Still, it was likely the best choice in the moment, even if Lapras wasn't able to take down The Reaver by himself.
Sula snorted, amused by her pokemon's antics even in the stressful situation. "Hey, don't get sassy with me right now. This is serious business, and I need you to take down that demon across the way."
Lapras immediately got the message and settled in for a serious fight as he took in the volcanic arena with the seasoned eye of a professional battler. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him; Blaine had issued no commands, yet there was not one, not two, but eighteen prancing Ninetales heading towards Lapras in a constantly shifting wall of fur.
They really need to update that move name, thought Sula as clicked her tongue in annoyance at Ninetales' exemplary Double Team.
"Lapras! Widescale containment, form one, please," ordered Sula, relying on well-practiced commands relating to the different ways a dedicated water type could manipulate their chosen element. Form one was the simplest, and it basically meant 'blast them as hard as you can.'
Without any indication of having heard her, Lapras exploded with elemental water energy and sent a massive wave of water crashing its way toward the approaching fox army.
Despite his lack of mobility, Lapras was still one of her go-to pokemon in Gym battles due to the sheer volume of water he could handle. All water-types had their limits, which generally grew as they aged and trained, and the demonstration before her was among the upper limits of what a water-type could manage, to her knowledge. Sula thought of him as an immobile artillery source when on land, having the capacity to do broad field attacks like this, or even concentrated spheres of densely packed water energy that hit like a boulder of equivalent size.
There was a hiss of steam and a staccato of small popping noises as Ninetales' clones came into contact with the crashing water before bursting in a flash of fire that further muddled the already chaotic arena. The excess water poured off the arena's edges onto the waiting magma below, creating a veritable steam room as the water evaporated en masse. Huge clouds of mist rose all around her, limiting visibility and setting a decidedly haunting tone for the battle.
Sula and Lapras strained their eyes to find the real Ninetales hiding in the obscuring mist, but she couldn't make out anything in the distance and she doubted her pokemon could, either.
This steam might've been nice a few hours ago, thought Sula as she used her sleeve to wipe off the blend of condensation and sweat that now coated her face and neck. She clicked her tongue in disgust as she realized her sleeve was already fully saturated, and all she had done was move moisture around. Stupid fucking fire arena.
"One more time, Lapras, just keep doing this as long as we need to. She has to come to us," ordered Sula. "Not like you can do much to hide, buddy."
Just as Lapras was about to release another wave, a beam of green-white light shot out from somewhere in the obscuring mist, slamming into her pokemon's chest. The sizzling noise in the background multiplied a thousand times over as the Solarbeam began hungrily eating through her pokemon's thick layer of blubber.
Lapras grunted in pain and writhed awkwardly in an attempt to move away from the concentrated grass-type energy but only succeeded in flopping himself over onto his side through his efforts, groaning in agonized frustration as he was unable to escape the burning beam of light. The crackling continued for several long seconds before fading.
Sula's face fell as she recognized a losing battle. Her already sitting duck of a pokemon was now effectively immobile and now sported a massive furrow of scorched and bloody flesh carved hideously into his chest and side. He was breathing heavily and didn't look like he would last much longer—not that she could blame him.
So, Sula decided to send him out with a bang. "AH SHIT, FUCK IT, LAPRAS, USE HYPER BEAM!" she cried out, hoping that he might be able to pinpoint where the attack came from, which was doubtful, but things like this tended to go her way despite the long odds.
With a muted grunt of assent, her damaged pokemon reared back and emitted a crackling beam of white energy—easily a meter in diameter—across the arena, dragging it across diagonally from the bottom left corner to the upper right in the hopes that he would make contact.
Her hopes soared when a pained whine echoed from beyond her view, followed by muted cursing from Blaine, which brought a tired grin to her face. Although her pokemon was barely hanging onto consciousness, she knew he had more in him."Lapras, I know you're hurting. Push through it! Form one again!"
With another pained groan, another towering wall of water coalesced into existence on their side of the arena—thousands of liters of water rising over ten meters into the air—was sent roaring into the across the arena before her pokemon finally collapsed onto his side in full.
Sula heard another whine of pain, and then silence.
Please be down, please, please stay down, Sula prayed as she waited with bated breath. Lapras was my best answer. Please work. She clenched her fists in anticipation as the silence became increasingly deafening.
The interaction between fire and water type-energy was interesting, as most of the elemental interactions tended to be, but especially for those so diamaterically opposed. Although Lapras hadn't managed to hit Ninetales directly per se, beyond potentially a glancing blow from the Hyper Beam, the sheer quantity of water sent her way would cause extensive damage just by contact, wreaking havoc on her inherent biologic makeup.
It seemed counterintuitive given that fire-types could swim out in the world with no problem, but being fully surrounded by water type-energy like the waves Lapras sent Ninetales way would be like a human being submerged in a vat of acid, albeit a slightly more durable one.
Fifteen silent seconds went by. Then thirty.
Just as Sula was about to release her next pokémon, she heard Blaine's nasal voice through the haze, and she trembled in relief.
"Ninetales is unable to battle. Lapras is unable to battle. Since your Pokémon fainted first, you're up next. Rememberrrr, no switches," he called out in a taunting, almost sing-song voice, seemingly unaffected by his starter's loss.
She wasn't surprised; after years of killing Johtans she doubted he would bat an eye at his pokemon being wounded or even killed. It wasn't a luxury a soldier was afforded if they wanted to survive. Sure, it may have been decades later, but she doubted he had lost much of his steel even now.
Sula felt herself shiver once more. For an Arceus damned volcanic arena, I'm shivering way too much, thought Sula.
Wasting no time with her decision, Sula threw her starter out confidently, feeling assured the worst was out of the way.
The fire-flying pokémon roared loudly as she entered the fray, eyes scanning through the mist to find her prey. In contrast to her species' normal burnt orange coloration, this particular Charizard's scales were entirely white due to the rarely seen condition of albinism. Her eyes shone a baleful crimson, and the flame on her tail was tipped with a pale blue flame. Lizzie the Charizard stood over two meters tall, her tail lashing with a not-so-subtle lust for violence.
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Sula smiled proudly, admiring her oldest companion who had borne her through a thousand battles.
"An interesting choice, Miss Seiichi. I had forgotten your penchant for my own chosen specialty. What a beautiful specimen," commented Blaine appreciatively. "Go, Torkoal!"
The mist was thick enough Sula couldn't even see the pokemon, but she knew of the species via her trip to Hoenn several years earlier. Lots of power, but limited mobility. Easy prey for a flying type. She didn't understand why Blaine would've picked this matchup at all beyond as a sacrifice to set up the field for a later selection.
Sula grimaced as a bright ray of sunshine lit up the arena, penetrating the mist and outlining Torkoal's silhouette. The pokemon appeared to be idly hanging out in the center of the arena, but after Ninetale's use of Solar Beam, Sula didn't want to give it any chances. She raised her hand to command Lizzy forward, but once again, Blaine stole the initiative.
"Torkoal, use Rock Tomb before she can get into the air! Focus on breaking her wings if you can." ordered Blaine, prompting a scowl from Sula at the brutal tactics.
"Don't get hit, Lizzie! Get to the air quickly and pick up that stupid pile of rocks! You know what to do," she shot back with fists clenched in determination.
Huge shards of rock shot towards her pokemon, demonstrating excellent control over a non-intrinsic element for the fire-type.
It was impressive. If Sula's pokemon was any less mobile, she would've been in trouble.
As things stood, Lizzie easily evaded the attacks, and the sharpened projectiles shattered loudly against the psychic barrier separating her from the rest of the arena. It took all her focus not to flinch at the deafening noise right in front of her face. Thank Arceus for League Kadabra.
In the center of the arena, Lizzie hurtled towards the slower pokemon with a powerful flap of her nearly translucent wings before snatching Torkoal up in a bear hug and heading upwards. The pinned pokemon bit and scratched to escape to no avail.
Lizzie, with her superior strength,handily suppressed her prey's efforts to escape, but it wasn't without cost—Torkoal growled with effort, and the pseudo-dragon's pale white scales blackened from the scorching heat, even as she gripped her package tighter to resist the increasing g-forces.
With a few more beats of her wings, the dragon rose seventy meters above the arena before plummeting into an outright dive, pulling in her wings to increase speed. As they approached the arena, perhaps thirty meters up, Lizzie let go, leaving the helpless tortoise to plummet towards the waiting ground like a flaming hunk of shrapnel.
Before he could hit the ground, his form disappeared in a flash of light as Blaine recalled it before his pokemon broke into a thousand gruesome chunks of turtle-meat.
"That would've killed him, you know," said Blaine with ice in his voice, clearly unimpressed at the ruthless tactic. "You'd be fined and have your license suspended if you do something in a normal circuit battle."
"Then it's a good thing you recalled him when you did. If I recall, you never specified anything about not killing any pokémon when you laid out the rules for the match," retorted Sula with an apathetic shrug. "Let's get on with this, Blaine. I'll take down whatever you can throw at me and won't hesitate to do what I need to. It's not like you, of all people, have any room to critique my tactics."
Blaine snorted in clear disgust. "As I said before, the younger generations appall me. As if using lethal tactics in a pokémon match for entertainment holds up compared to fighting in an actual war. You don't know a thing, Miss Seiichi. I hope you never have to, for your sake. Charizard, go. Let's see how you do when you don't have air superiority," said Blaine as he released his fourth pokémon. "Charizard, gain altitude and strike it from the skies."
"Oh, try not to kill your brethren if you can," Blaine added almost as an afterthought.
Sula could practically feel his taunting smile, even though she couldn't see him herself. Her breath caught in her throat as Blaine's pokémon took the field, flying rapidly toward Lizzie's position above the arena.
Blaine's Charizard may have lacked any unique characteristics like Lizzie's coat of white scales, but he certainly wasn't lacking in any way. The aging fire-lizard dwarfed Lizzie by at least a meter, and his frame looked like he outweighed her by nearly twice over.
I did not know Blaine had a Charizard, thought Sula as she attempted to suppress a feeling of rising panic at the sight. Try as she might, Sula was unable to fully calm herself down and could feel her breath coming in shorter, rapid spasms as her body reacted against her will. After a few seconds, the feeling passed, but it left her feeling winded and frustrated even though she knew there was little she could've done to avoid the reaction.
An instinctive fear response genetically coded into humans hijacked their system when first coming into contact with any type of draconic pokémon, even a pseudo-dragon like Charizard—most likely related to the fact that dragons were humanity's biggest predators until humanity forged strong enough relations to tame and breed them. Sula suspected she had lost many an ancestor to the terrifying beasts for her body to react so strongly to Blaine's Charizard despite her connection to her own pokemon. Not that there weren't other reasons, as well.
Sula vowed to spend more time building resistance against draconic energy. Freezing up like this was mortifying and could easily cost someone a battle if they weren't able to regain their bearings.
"Fire moves won't work well on him, Lizzie! Get in close and hit him with a Dragon Claw if you can!" shouted Sula as she took the initiative in this matchup after shaking off the dragon-fear. "Don't hold back! Do whatever you need to do!"
Her voice echoed loudly around the volcanic rim—shakier than she would've liked—carried from the speakers around the space. In battles like this, where the pokémon were tens of meters away from their trainers, it was vastly more difficult to give specific instructions. As a result, many 'high-level' matches devolved into savage close-quarters combat where the combatant's base instincts took over—especially in the case with two alpha predators such as the battle occurring above them.
The two flaming reptiles hacked and bit at each other without mercy, and it wasn't long before sprays of blood started falling down through the mist like a macabre rainstorm.
That's actually fucking terrifying, thought Sula with a sort of detached awareness as she watched the battle unfold above her, feeling grateful she wore red.
Sula could hardly distinguish what was happening above her, only seeing brief flashes of fire sporadically illuminate the night sky. She could hear the growls, roars, and grunts inherent to a melee like this as both pokémon fought tooth and claw to emerge victorious.
"Lizzie, you got this! I know he's older and bigger than you, but you're young and skilled! Take that grandpa out! Size isn't everything!" cheered Sula as she struggled to think of something she could do to help.
In times like these, trainers realized truly how powerless they were in the face of pokémon. More minor gym matches and pokémon contests gave trainers the illusion that they were in control and that their hard work and decision making granted them the win. It wasn't until a trainer reached the upper echelons of battling that they realized how small they were, and most of the work was done before the battle.
I can't do a damn thing, realized Sula as she waited and hoped for the result she wanted.
As Sula was spacing out, thinking about her place in the grand scheme of things, the duel came to a close as Blaine's Charizard anticlimactically fell nearly lifeless from the sky, with the dull thud unique to a body devoid of consciousness hitting the ground.
The pokemon's wings had been heavily damaged, and he was missing his right horn entirely. Blood began rapidly pooling underneath the damaged pokémon from the numerous gaping wounds he had received from Lizzie's sharp talons.
Seconds later, Lizzie, now liberally covered in blood and blackened scales, landed to announce her dominance over the elder Charizard with a victorious bellow, letting out a stream of roaring flames as if to herald her coming as the new leader of the pack.
Sula pumped her fist in excitement, feeling pleasantly surprised at the result.
I knew she needed an extra push to win, thought Sula as she ironically attributed the victory to her cheering, quickly forgetting how powerless she felt seconds before.
Blaine recalled the unconscious pokémon before muttering something too quietly for the mic to pick up.
"Arcanine, go. Extreme Speed into Crunch. Don't give her a chance to escape," ordered Blaine as he released his fifth pokémon, who took to the field in a blur, blinking out of sight before reappearing with a dull thump as he crashed into the barely coherent Lizzie, who was high on adrenaline from the primal battle she had just finished.
Lizzie let out an unbecoming squeak as she was violently thrown from her position near the center of the ring into one of the psychic barriers. There was a dull crunch as one of the large bones in her wing snapped, eliciting a screech of agony from the flagging pokémon.
Arcanine gave her no respite and immediately latched his jaws around the damaged wing as he shook Lizzie like a ragdoll, sending splatters of blood and saliva flying around the edge of the arena.
"Oh shit," said Sula as she recalled her starter before further damage could be done to the most delicate part of Lizzie's body. "Nice work, Liz, we'll get you patched up in no time as soon as we finish up with this," she muttered to the pokéball as she gingerly put it back on her belt.
Sula could tell the time for conversation was over, so rather than saying something to get under Blaine's skin, she just sent out her next pokémon.
"Take this oversized puppy down, Queenie," ordered Sula to her next combatant, a large blue saurian who practically bristled with venomous spikes. "Use toxic to coat yourself in poison, and then scatter some spikes around yourself so he can't get close for free. He's quicker than you—don't worry about trying to catch him. Play it slow. Hit him with Poison Stings if he gets close enough."
As Queenie began carrying out her trainer's instructions, Arcanine moved.
Rather than getting close, he retreated to Blaine's side of the field to stay out of the poison type's range.
"Flamethrower; sear off the poison. Use evasive tactics, and don't get close," ordered Blaine dispassionately. "There's no need to rush this fight."
The Arcanine swiftly carried out the command, using his superior speed to avoid the Nidoqueen's slower moving darts and sending short bursts of fire to harass the comparatively slower pokémon.
Sula grimaced as she realized Blaine wasn't letting Arcanine get anywhere near Queenie. She also noticed that most of the venom on Queenie's spikes had already evaporated due to Arcanine's harrying Flamethrowers.
"Okay, we gotta switch it up, girlie. He's too quick to hit. Work up a Sandstorm and use Sludge Bombs on the surrounding area. I want this dog walking through poisonous sludge," called out Sula.
Nodding, Queenie focused for a moment, ignoring the intermittent bursts of fire, and the seemingly ever-present steam was finally chased out as a roaring Sandstorm screamed into existence within the bounds of the psychic shield. With a roar, the Nidoqueen erupted in a corona of virulent poison-type energy as the Sludge Bomb doused the surrounding area.
True to Sula's word, the poison and ground type-energy mixed seamlessly, and the arena was quickly coated in an inhospitable layer of toxic mud.
Arcanine growled in frustration and pain as his paws began disintegrating from the concentrated poison he could no longer avoid.
Sula nodded, happy with how things were shaping up. They had used this tactic many times before with faster opponents. "That's it, Queenie! Just keep up the Sandstorm, and you can wait for him to come to you!"
"Tch. Change of plans Arcanine. We can't afford to wait out the sandstorm. Get in there with a Flare Blitz; try to avoid the spikes if you can," said Blaine.
Sula thought she could hear the tiniest hint of panic creeping into Blaine's voice, and she smiled in satisfaction. We have an easy lead. I'm almost there.
"Queenie! Try to predict where he'll hit you and position yourself to spear him if you can! Just keep it up! I know you can do this!" Sula shouted, hoping her pokemon could maintain the vast quantities of type energy she was currently outputting into the surrounding environment.
At this point, between maintaining a constant sandstorm, multiple barrages of Sludge Bomb, and the earlier pestering tactics, her pokemon was swaying in exhaustion. Her eyes looked slightly unfocused but narrowed with determination at Sula's encouragement. Or, so she liked to think, anyway.
Arcanine didn't waste any time, thundering towards Queenie while wreathed with white-hot flames. Unfortunately for him, she barely shifted her body in time, tucking her head to lance the Arcanine with her horn as he made contact.
Both pokémon grunted in pain at the contact; Arcanine's brutal attack quickly ate through Queenie's natural armor, but the damage was already done. Arcanine's weight, paired with his momentum, had driven his opponent's horn deep into his chest.
Arcanine whined in pain and desperately tried to pull himself off of the horn, but Queenie reacted instinctively and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even further onto the impaling appendage with a quiet moan of effort even as the heat turned left her vulnerable flesh cracked and weeping. She shook herself wildly, scattering scraps of flesh as her spikes made easy work of his natural defenses.
"Stop! We're done! I forfeit the match!" cried Blaine frantically as he recalled his pokémon before it could become irreparably damaged. "This has gone too far for a competitive match. I don't have anything that can match another two of your pokemon. It would be pointless, much as I'm loathe to admit it."
As Blaine submitted, Sula felt a brief flood of relief spread through her overwhelmed nervous system before she realized something was wrong. Seriously wrong. I don't feel so good, she thought, collapsing in a heap, unconscious.
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Blaine paused on his way off the platform, unaware of Sula's state. "Miss Seiichi. You may be the next champion. You may win all your matches, taking down the other Gym Leaders one by one. You and your pokémon are talented—no one can deny that, least of all me." He shook his head, feeling a decade older after his first loss in years. "But please, I beg you to consider what you may lose along the way if you continue to pursue victory at all costs. Some things aren't worth losing," Blaine mused as he recalled his experiences in the previous war. He had certainly lost something that he had never found again.
Pausing on the stairs, he waited for her inevitable response, expecting something sassy and disrespectful per his experiences with the upstart the last few seasons.
Nothing.
Blaine waited a few seconds longer. "Miss Seiichi? Sula?" He paused. "Silly child?" When that garnered no response, he finally turned around, in concern. It didn't take long to notice the girl's body curled up across the way, with her Nidoqueen passed out cold in the middle of the ring in a concerningly large pool of blood and burnt scales.
"Shit," cursed Blaine as he realized Sula had ignored his secretary's well-intentioned advice to bring a water bottle or two. Maybe he needed to provide water bottles at the platforms? Shaking his head, he pressed a button on the edge of his platform and a scratchy voice came through.
"Sir? I thought you were in a match? Is everything alright up there?" asked Miss Shalke via the intercom system installed throughout the gym property.
"We've got another one," grumbled Blaine dejectedly as he thought about all the paperwork coming his way from yet another unconscious trainer on his property. He hoped she was alright—Kiriel would have his head if anything happened to her darling daughter.