Chapter 18: An Integration

POV – JAKE

Jake stopped at the doorway to his room, now freshly cleaned and a bit more centred after tidying up. He paused at the threshold, taking a moment to absorb the quiet simplicity. The room was small but well-equipped, designed in a traditional eastern style with tatami mats covering the floor. A futon, neatly laid out, occupied one corner, and the faint scent of straw from the mats filled the air, lending a sense of calm to the space.

It was strange to think that it had been just over a week since he'd arrived in this world. Somehow, out of nowhere, Jake had just appeared here: shocked by an Emolga, bashed by a Scolipede, haunted by a Mimikyu, battled a champion, caught the offspring of said Scolipede, hunted shrooms, and now a Cyndaquil had fallen into his lap. It had been quite the whirlwind, and he felt like he hadn’t really had too many moments to catch up with it all.

"Maybe the next few days will be a chance to slow down a bit," he mused to himself.

"Emol, emol!" Trixie’s voice cut through Jake’s reverie as she darted across his line of sight, her small, squirrel-like body gliding effortlessly through the air. Her black and white fur contrasted sharply with her cheek pouches, charged with electricity, playfully taunting, "Bet you can't catch me!"

"Cynda, Cynda!" echoed a high-pitched, spirited cry, "I definitely will!" as the latest member of his growing Pokémon family scampered by his feet. He observed her short, narrow nose and the joyous eyes that were almost closed. Her fur, a rich bluish-grey that deepened to near-black in the room's shadows, contrasted sharply with her cream-coloured underbelly. The signature dark red spots on her back—dormant volcanoes in miniature—awaited the right, or likely wrong, moment to ignite.

Watching his new Pokémon play, Jake couldn’t help but ponder his fortunate circumstance. "Cyndaquil, one of the three starters from Johto. Rare in the wild, but very occasionally found in grasslands," he thought. This scarcity led him to muse about why such Pokémon were primarily obtained through regional Professors, like Elm in Johto. "Maybe it’s a conservation effort," Jake speculated, his eyes following the cute fire porcupine. "Professors could have exclusive access to these rare Pokémon, ensuring their protection and perhaps even their breeding. Or it could be about research, selectively distributing them to trainers for... some greater purpose?"

Jake recalled a conversation he’d had with Honey, where he’d asked how she managed to obtain such a rare Pokémon. "Well," Honey had started with a smile, "before I fully dedicated myself to the dojo, I used to run a trading firm in Indigo. I’m more hands-off these days, but the firm specialises in food production for Pokémon. It’s a bit of a niche, but it’s been a very rewarding business."

"Professor Oak—a name you might recognise—has been one of our regular clients for years," she continued. "He sources food for the Pokémon on his ranch and for his research from us. We’ve built a strong relationship over time, and once a year, he generously sends a batch of young Pokémon to Armor for distribution to deserving young trainers. This year, however, his usual stock ran out, but he managed to call in a favour. That’s how we got these Johto Pokémon, including your Cyndaquil. It was a kind gesture from an old friend."

Returning to the present, Jake noticed Trixie playing a round of tag with Cyndaquil. The little fire Pokémon was surprisingly quick on her feet, darting around the room with impressive speed. She used her hind legs to power her movements and her short, stubby arms to keep her balance and quickly change direction. She zigzagged across the floor, swift and determined, trying her best to keep up with the airborne Trixie—though not very successfully.

Trixie, for her part, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the chase, allowing Cyndaquil to come tantalizingly close before darting away with a burst of speed. Her wings buzzed as she swooped and spiralled, always just out of reach. Jake watched, amused, as Cyndaquil made a valiant effort to catch her, only for Trixie to tease her with a quick manoeuvre and a playful “Emol!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. "Cyndaquil, you've made a fatal error letting Trixie pick the game," he thought. "She never chooses one she can lose." His amusement was tinged with a hint of caution, however, as he noticed the way Cyndaquil's back occasionally flared up, the dormant red spots glowing more intensely with each burst of excitement.

Trixie had been absolutely ecstatic to meet Cyndaquil. She seemed to embrace her role as the senior team member and 'big sister' with a surprising amount of pride, though there was probably not much of an age difference between them. It had amused Jake at the time; Trixie, after all, was known more for her play than her leadership qualities.

Despite that, now observing Trixie’s delighted interaction with Cyndaquil, Jake saw a valuable opportunity. “Trixie’s got the charm and sociability down, always a welcoming figure for newcomers,” he mused. Her natural ability to connect and communicate made her an excellent companion for a timid and easily startled Pokémon like Cyndaquil. Trixie’s presence seemed to only bring out joy and playfulness in the young Pokémon.

Thinking further, Jake considered the potential for Trixie to take on a more significant role. “She’s a fantastic mood maker, but maybe it’s time to help her develop some leadership skills,” he pondered.

He remembered his mother mentioning how she sometimes helped children with confidence issues by fostering leadership skills. A strategy she frequently advocated involved either pairing these children with mentors or entrusting them with responsibilities.

Assigning Trixie as Cyndaquil’s guide seemed like a step in this direction. It wasn’t just about giving her more responsibility; it was about guiding her to balance her playful nature, so she could contribute more to the team as a whole.

Jake realised that this approach might be what trainers with larger Pokémon teams often take. Not that he intended to enforce a strict hierarchy, but fostering a culture of mutual support and growth within his team would become increasingly important as he continued his quest.

As he watched Trixie and Cyndaquil, he understood that this was an excellent chance for both Pokémon to evolve in their roles—Cyndaquil to adjust to her new surroundings while gaining confidence, and Trixie to grow beyond her current capabilities. It was a step towards planning for the long term, ensuring a well-integrated team where each Pokémon could thrive.

“Let’s hope they don’t get into too much trouble,” Jake thought wryly to himself.

Just as he had that thought, Trixie suddenly swooped toward his futon, wings extended in a swift glide. Cyndaquil, her excitement palpable, gave chase, pattering against the tatami floor, her back sparking with tiny but growing flashes of fire as she closed in on Trixie.

It was time to intervene before things escalated. While the playful atmosphere was great to see, the combination of Trixie’s high energy and Cyndaquil’s still untamed fire was a disaster waiting to happen.

"Okay, you two, let's not turn this into a circus act," Jake said gently, half-jokingly, making sure his voice was smooth to avoid startling them, but loud enough to catch their attention. "Maybe we shouldn’t burn down the dojo as thanks for Mustard’s hospitality."

At the sight of Jake, Trixie perked up and glided over to him with a spirited “Emol, emol!” which Jake interpreted as her saying, “I’ve been very responsible, actually!”

"Really now? Responsible, huh?" Jake raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose I should be grateful that I still have a place to sleep."

Meanwhile, Cyndaquil looked on, a bit more reserved. She nervously inched towards Jake, her eyes reflecting a shy curiosity. A soft “Cynda...” escaped her, almost like a timid greeting.

"Hey there, little one," Jake responded, kneeling down to her level. "No need to be shy."

He reached out with a closed fist. "Guess what I’ve got here?" he said playfully.

Unable to contain her curiosity, Cyndaquil approached, her small nose twitching as she sniffed the air. “Cynda, quil!” as if saying, “What’s that? I want to see!”

"Just a little something I got from Siobhan. She says fire Pokémon can’t resist it," Jake replied, slowly unfolding his hand to reveal a small, red, glistening jelly.

Cyndaquil’s eyes shone with excitement at the sight of the treat, but in a swift motion, Jake closed his hand and then reopened it. The jelly was gone. "Oops, where did it go?" he asked, with a slow smile.

Perplexed yet intrigued, Cyndaquil tilted her head, scanning Jake’s face for clues. “Quil? Cynda?” she questioned, her tone suggesting, “What did you do?” Trixie watched with delight, clapping her paws.

"Don’t worry, Cyndaquil, it’s here somewhere," Jake replied playfully. Cyndaquil wasn’t easily deceived and began her own little investigation. She circled around Jake, sniffing the air and scrutinising the area around his feet.

Jake grinned; it was adorable watching her ferret around like this. As she intensified her efforts, he gently called her attention. "Hey, Cyndaquil, look here."

She stopped and glanced up at him. Jake then slowly extended his other hand, dramatically retrieving the jelly from behind Cyndaquil’s ear. "Found it!" he declared triumphantly.

“Cynda!” Cyndaquil chirped, with a delighted giggle, as if saying, “You got me!” She eagerly nibbled on the treat. Jake extended his hand to gently stroke her head. She responded with delight, wriggling happily. It was great to see Cyndaquil acting more confident. Only a few hours ago, she had been a bundle of nerves, skittishly keeping her distance. But now, thanks to a combination of Trixie’s infectious energy and a few well-timed treats, she was noticeably more at ease and even affectionate.

Jake had wondered about why it had been easy for Cyndaquil to start responding positively to him, musing that it might be some kind of imprinting mechanism inherent in young Pokémon. He remembered bringing this up in a conversation with Master Mustard earlier.

"Their will isn’t as strong yet, you see," Mustard had said. "They’re more open, more mouldable. It’s easier to form a connection with them."

He had also mentioned the challenges of bonding with wild Pokémon, especially those that had evolved or spent a long time in the wild. "Like people, their experiences shape them, lad," Mustard had continued. "Some will have been through a lot, both good and bad. An evolved wild Pokémon can have a strong will, forged by survival. They might have had negative experiences with us humans, which can lead to caution or even aggression."

Jake remembered nodding thoughtfully at Mustard's words. "So, approaching a wild, evolved Pokémon requires a strong will and understanding?" Jake had asked, to which Mustard had given an affirmative nod.

"It’s not just about strength or willpower, lad," Mustard had added with a slight smile. "As you said, it’s about respect, understanding, and patience. Pokémon can be dangerous, no matter how young, wild, or powerful, but they can sense sincerity and intention. Always remember that, Jake."

Back in the present, Jake smiled down at Cyndaquil, appreciating the simplicity and purity of her affection. "You’re going to be a great part of the team," he said softly to her, receiving an enthusiastic “Cynda” in response. Trixie, perched on his shoulder, emoled in agreement.

He observed the little fire mouse—Cyndaquil were known to be combustible, emitting flames from their back when angry or surprised. Then, a thought struck him. "You need a name," he said decisively, looking into Cyndaquil’s bright, eager eyes. "Can’t have you just being any out-of-the-egg Cyndaquil, can we?"

“Cynda!” Cyndaquil responded, her flames flaring up at the suggestion, “Heck, no!”

Jake could feel the sudden burst of heat radiating from her back—it was intense, like a hand too close to a Bunsen burner, a raw and almost scorching sensation that forced him to quickly withdraw his hand.

For a moment, Jake was taken aback by the sheer heat Cyndaquil could generate without even realising it. This would be a new challenge for him. None of his other Pokémon posed a risk of accidental harm like this. Jake would have to be extra cautious around the innocently destructive porcupine. “Guess I should look for some fireproof gloves," Jake thought wryly.

"You’re definitely going to be pretty explosive, both now and in the future," he said with a smile. "How about Ignacia?" he proposed. “Iggy for short?”

She paused, considering the name. Then, with an excited “Cynda! Cyndaquil!” she seemed to approve wholeheartedly, her flames erupting again. She also tried to jump at Jake, who quickly laughed, "Woah, I need my eyebrows for something important, I think!"

"Alright then, welcome to the team, Iggy!" Jake declared warmly. It felt like a name that would suit her perfectly, all the way from her current cute self to a fully grown Typhlosion.

Trixie circled around Iggy, chirping her own welcome with a series of “Emol! Emolga!”

"Now, it’s time to introduce you to the rest of the team," Jake announced. He reached for the Poké Balls containing Jekyll and Arthrox. With a press of a button, both Pokémon materialised into the room.

Jekyll always stood out, the two black holes in his Pikachu disguise where his eyes should be turned toward Jake as he hopped over, tugging at the bottom of his gi, making a soft, affectionate “Mimi, Kyuu!” sound. “I’m always happy to see you!” His voice was not quite as raspy anymore, and Jekyll was much less hesitant than when Jake first met him.

Jake reached out to gently pet Jekyll, who now seemed to more confidently revel in the attention, vibrating slightly in contentment. Jekyll’s focus remained solely on Jake, oblivious to the new member of the team—nothing else mattered to him. Jake wanted to change that, but he was still not quite sure how.

Arthrox rolled over to Jake, his hard exoskeleton a glossy crimson and dark green, giving him a rather formidable appearance. Despite this, there was something amusingly earnest about him; he seemed to renew his allegiance to Jake, almost like a knight swearing fealty to his liege. Since their encounter with the Tangela, Arthrox had been displaying an almost fanatical loyalty toward Jake, which he found both endearing and a bit puzzling.

After petting Arthrox, who seemed pleased with the attention, Jake turned to his fire mouse. "This is Iggy," he said, gesturing toward the Cyndaquil.

Arthrox greeted Iggy with a cautious “Veni,” his antennae twitching slightly. He backed away a bit, clearly wary of her potential to burst into flames. “Veni, veni,” he seemed to sigh, perhaps to say, “Venipede are flammable.”

Jekyll, on the other hand, was unnervingly neutral. He didn’t acknowledge Iggy, nor did he make any sound. His gaze, through the holes of his costume, was fixed and baleful, almost as if he was analysing the newcomer from a distance.

Iggy made her way toward the others, her eyes holding innocent wonder, edging closer to Jekyll, who remained still, his gaze fixed and unblinking.

Iggy sniffed cautiously, inching closer to the Mimikyu. There was a moment of hesitation as she caught Jekyll’s scent, something in it causing her to pause. Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, panic flared in her eyes, and she burst into flame, her back igniting.

Jekyll’s reaction was indignant. His body tensed, and he looked down at Iggy with what could only be described as disdain. “Mimi, Kyuu?” he seemed to say, which Jake interpreted as, “Did you just try to BURN my disguise?”

The feeling in the room shifted. Jekyll’s aura began to change, the façade slipping away to reveal the true ghost beneath. A malevolent, eerie energy started to radiate from him, the shadow beneath his disguise extending, chilling the air. Iggy recoiled in fear, her small body quivering.

As Jake observed, a realisation dawned. Jekyll, with his complex emotions and hidden strength, had the potential to be so much more than what his past had defined him to be. He could be a protector, a figure of admiration, someone for the others to look up to. Iggy could benefit greatly from such a role model.

Jake thought about Jekyll’s journey with him so far. He seemed to react aggressively to anyone who threatened his disguise. The malice he displayed, the fear he could inspire, masked a vulnerability, a hidden depth—one shaped by loneliness and, more than anything, a desperate desire to be accepted. Perhaps by encouraging Jekyll to see himself through a new lens—not as an outcast or a source of fear, but as a mentor and protector—he could help the Mimikyu find a new sense of purpose.

Iggy was at the very beginning of her journey. Her natural responses to Jekyll’s intense emotions were understandable, considering Cyndaquil’s inherent timidity, particularly in startling or unfamiliar scenarios. If Jake could leverage Trixie’s welcoming and sociable nature while simultaneously guiding Jekyll to become a figure of admiration or even authority, Iggy could outgrow her initial fears and develop her confidence. Jekyll’s presence could provide Iggy with a sense of security, helping her overcome her initial hesitance.

Yes, Jake thought, this could work. It would take patience and careful nurturing, but the benefits for both Jekyll and Iggy—and indeed, for the entire team—could be immense. He looked at Jekyll and Iggy, seeing not just their present states but the possibilities of what they could become. “What’s this? Am I finally thinking like a good Pokémon Trainer? Surely not?” Jake mused to himself wryly.

"Iggy," Jake began, "I want to formally introduce Jekyll. The strongest member of our team." Iggy’s eyes widened a little, though it was a bit hard to tell given how they were almost always closed. Jekyll seemed to freeze, turning slowly to look at Jake, confused.

Jake continued, undeterred. "Jekyll is brave, stoic, and a true protector of our family.”

Jekyll, taken aback, emitted a surprised "K-kyuu?" As if to say, "W-What are you saying?"

Arthrox, voiced a matter of fact "Venipede," as if affirming. "He protects the hive."

Jekyll looked even more at surprised at this, turning to stare at Arthrox, not sure what to say.

Trixie, standing not far away, “Emol, emol” she nodded sagely, "He's a great little bro!"

Jekyll definitely reacted to that, looking at Trixie with what could only be described as utter disgust.

Trixie, however, seemed unfazed, chirping “Emol!” cheerfully, implying, “See, he loves me!”

Iggy, unable to contain her excitement, dashed forward, skidding to a stop right in front of Jekyll. Eyes shining with admiration.

Jekyll, utterly bewildered, turned to Jake, his eyes conveying confusion and a silent plea, "How could you?"

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Jake just smiled at the Mimikyu, drawing him into a hug. "Everything I said is true, Jekyll. You've shown all those qualities. You're doing great," he whispered reassuringly.

Iggy's excitement was palpable as she leaned towards Jekyll, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and admiration. "Cynda, cynda?" she piped up, almost as if introducing herself all over again. Then without missing a beat, she launched into a flurry of questions. "Cynda, quil?” How did you find your cloak? “Cynda, cynda, quil?” What's the scariest adventure you've been on?"

Jekyll, taken aback, could only stammer. "M-mimi, kyu?" He looked around, overwhelmed.

From her perch, Trixie giggled "Emol, emolga!" she chimed in, which Jake understood as, "He's totally lost for words!"

Arthrox, observed the scene with a deadpan expression. "Veni," he remarked dryly, which Jake translated as, "Aren't you going to answer?"

Jekyll, flustered, turned to Jake, a silent plea for assistance.

Jake couldn't help but chuckle at the situation before stepping in. "Hey Iggy, let's take it easy on Jekyll," he said gently. He let down Jekyll, off his lap, and he quickly retreated behind Jake, peeking out at Iggy nervously. Jekyll who had been so scary, seemed to have had the tide turned on him. Jake sighed; Jekyll would have to get used to it he supposed.

Arthrox’s turn. "Iggy, I'd like you to meet Arthrox," he said, gesturing toward the Venipede. "He's also pretty new to our team. He's got big dreams of becoming a powerful Scolipede one day." Arthrox nodded proudly, pleased that his ambition was being acknowledged.

Iggy's eyes widened. "Cynda, quil Cynda!" she exclaimed, which Jake interpreted as, "That's amazing! I want to be strong too!"

Arthrox nodding in acknowledgment of her declaration. "Veni," he responded, an approving tone in his voice. “Respect is given.”

Watching this, Jake felt a sense of pride swell within him. He noted how Iggy's confidence soared when discussing her aspirations, her true spirited nature shining through — qualities that would serve her well in the battles to come.

As Jake's gaze drifted over his team. There was Trixie, the playful and now increasingly reliable Emolga; Jekyll, the once-lonely Mimikyu, gradually emerging from his shell; Arthrox, the disciplined and ambitious Venipede, whose drive could propel the team forward; and now Iggy, the passionate and spirited Cyndaquil. Together, they formed a diverse and strong team, each with unique traits and potential.

He was assembling a formidable group that, if trained well, could genuinely be contenders in the battles ahead. For the first time since arriving in this world, Jake felt a moment of calm, a content.

He had knowledge; he had a defined goal. He didn’t, however, have experience.

The Galar Pokémon League was an opportunity to learn, to grow, to develop the tools he needed to reach Sinnoh. As Jake looked over his team, he truly looked forward to seeing what they could achieve together.

POV - JEKYLL

Jekyll watched. Jekyll contemplated. The new one, 'Iggy', a tiny flame flickering with life and spirit. Brightness less blinding. Purity more overwhelming.

Jake, the leader, his centre, his everything was called away. The old human summoned him. Jekyll wanted to follow. But Jake said, "Look after them." Them – this gathering of Pokémon, this... family?

Jekyll pondered. His existence had been fuelled by envy, to be something he was not. But Jake had offered something else, something Jekyll struggled to comprehend. A role, a place, not as an outcast.

As Jake left, Jekyll felt a stirring, a sensation. Responsibility? A charge, these creatures he had only known as rivals, as annoyances. The bug was no threat. But the small, bright ones. They could take it all away. Everything he had ever wanted. They could remove him. DESTROY HIM.

Jake's words echoed in Jekyll's mind. A task, a purpose, something Jekyll had never possessed. This was new... significant. Jekyll watched the others, emotions yet to be fully understood.

An opportunity. An opportunity to be more than a mimic. To stand as something real, something vital. He may never match their purity, their brightness, but he could be something else, something necessary.

Jekyll watched. Jekyll resolved. He would protect them, guard them. In doing so, perhaps he would find what he had been seeking all along. A place where he belonged, not in mimicry, but in truth.

Jekyll had something to lose. Everything to gain.

POV - ARTHROX

Arthrox scanned the territory, antennae quivering. New hive. Adaptation: critical. The Commander—Jake—figure of absolute authority. His orders: law. All else: irrelevant.

To Arthrox's sensors, this was more than a room—it was a tactical ground. Tatami mats: silent terrain. The air: tainted with salt and sweat. The scent map: committed to memory. Everything catalogued. Everything analysed.

A flash of red—memories of the Bisharp that slew his mother. Mistake: underestimating. Retaliation: pending. Too focused on defence, ignored the attack. Error: unforgivable. Sister's advice: discarded. Sheltered too long in cocoon of inefficiency, neglecting the hunt.

Now, under Jake's command, a new directive: evolution. The path to Scolipede: clear. Jake: catalyst. Power: imminent. Commander's strategy: respected. Arthrox would transcend, leaving past failures behind.

Designation Ignacia. Species: unknown. Potential: examined. Youthful energy: noted. Behaviour: inquisitive, vigilant. A warrior in training.

Fire: threat to carapace. Proximity: risky. Caution: mandatory. Rank: hazardous. Strategy: maintain distance. Observe. Learn.

Designation Jekyll: formidable, Rank: superior.

Further analysis. Mimikyu: deceptive, cunning. Wise. Psychological profile: stable. Jekyll’s loyalty to Commander: absolute. Evaluation: strong ally for the hive.

Recognition: faint. Past encounter: Pikachu, crazed. Attack: unprovoked. Identity: mistaken. Correction: Jekyll, Mimikyu, not Pikachu. Stability: confirmed. Mimikyu: reason maintained, not deranged. Logic: intact. Authority: acknowledged.

Ambition: clear. Jekyll: benchmark. Growth: inevitable. Goal: surpass and command. Resolve: unbreakable. Legend: achievable. Future: glorious.

Reverie interrupted—sudden air currents: Trixie approaching. Invasion of space: noted. Emotional response: controlled.

"Artie, you asleep or something?" Her tone playful, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Arthrox's eyes narrowed. Name: Arthrox. Correction: necessary. "I do not sleep during strategic contemplation. My designation is Arthrox." A brief pause; antennae twitching. “In the Commander’s absence, it is our duty is to remain obedient and vigilant.”

Trixie puffed up, displaying mock authority. "Well, Jake's not here, so I'm in charge now!" Her ears twitched, brimming with self-importance.

A sigh, imperceptible to anyone but himself, escaped Arthrox. Delusion of command: inefficient.

Jekyll’s response was swift, "None shall command me but my esteemed trainer!" Despite his small stature, his stance radiated unwavering loyalty.

Trixie laughed, a light sound, as if Jekyll had uttered the wittiest of remarks. Amusement: prevalent. Misinterpretation: likely.

Designation Trixie: effective in battle. Objective assessment: capable. Agility and unpredictable combat style: significant asset to the hive.

But there were... anomalies. Behavioural observation: lacks discipline. Consumption habits: excessive. He recalled instances of her feasting, sometimes encroaching upon his own allocated nourishment. Food appropriation: unacceptable. Tactical re-evaluation of supplies: necessary.

And her chatter – a constant stream of noise. Communication: excessive. Efficiency: reduced. Yet, despite these observations, a part of him registered something else. Previous encounter: life debt acknowledged. She had, in their past adventure, saved him from what would have been a less than honourable demise.

This debt, and something more unnameable, shaped his perception of her. Trixie: under my protection. Acknowledgment: silent. It was a fact he would never vocalise.

Frustratingly, her strength ranked her above him in their group’s hierarchy. Trixie: superior in combat. Personal sentiment: irritation. This fact grated on him, fuelling his desire for ascension. Current standing: subordinate. Goal: surpass.

Arthrox watched from a distance as Ignacia—'Iggy' as they called her—blazed around Jekyll, her energy teetering on the edge of chaos. Her questions came rapid-fire, each tinged with unmistakable admiration. Curiosity: commendable. Method: overwhelming.

Jekyll, for his part, seemed to shrink under the onslaught of enthusiasm. His attempts to maintain a regal demeanour faltered under Iggy's relentless fire. Arthrox recognised the discomfort, a feeling not foreign to him.

Commonality: discomfort in chaos. Jekyll: potential ally.

Arthrox observed as Jekyll cautiously retreated, maintaining a safe distance from Iggy's flickering flames. Caution: warranted. Fire hazard: significant.

"Ah, young one, your fervour is... admirable, but one must also embrace the virtues of space and restraint," Jekyll intoned, wavering slightly.

To Arthrox's surprise, Iggy appeared not only undeterred but further impressed. "Wow, Jekyll, you're so cool! How do you stay so calm and collected?" Her eyes sparkled as she inched closer to the Mimikyu.

Arthrox noticed Jekyll wiggle around, searching for an escape or a distraction. His gaze landed on Trixie, who was currently absorbed in a playful monologue directed at an inattentive audience. Opportunity: to assist and align.

“Trixie, Iggy requires engagement of a different kind. Your... unique approach would be beneficial."

Trixie looked up, face breaking into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I get it! Time for Trixie to show her amazing skills!" she declared, bounding over to Iggy with a zest that matched the young Cyndaquil's own.

Jekyll, now relieved of Iggy's attention, gave Arthrox a glance that held a flicker of gratitude. Alliance: initiated. Jekyll: appreciative.

A sense of purpose solidified within Arthrox. Alliance with Jekyll: first step. Growth path: defined. His life's ambition—evolution to Scolipede—loomed in his mind, a goal now within reach.

Mother: powerful, yet opportunities limited. Advantage: a capable trainer. Jake's words, the encouragement. The belief, echoed in his mind. Growth: optimal. Potential: maximised.

Battle strategy: attack and destroy. Commander's leadership: key to ascension. His resolve hardened at the thought of the trials ahead, each a stepping stone to his ultimate form.

Then, the matter of his past—the scorched memories of his hivelands, ravaged and lost. Revenge: necessary. Pikachu: tormentor. Bisharp: executioner. The fire of retribution burned within him, a silent vow to right the wrongs of the past.

Return to hivelands: inevitable. Rule: destined. The journey would come full circle, from the ashes of his lost home to the pinnacle of power and authority. His destiny: not merely to survive, but to reign. Journey: begun. Destiny: unstoppable.

I shall rise.

POV - JAKE

Jake strolled down the corridor of the Master Dojo, his mind still spinning from his encounter with Mustard and the antiquated TV set. “Mustard really is a technophobe,” he mused, chuckling softly to himself. It amused him that the old master had a penchant for antique roadshows—quite the unexpected hobby.

As Jake wandered, his thoughts turned to the technological paradoxes of the Pokémon world. Here on Armor, marvels like PokéCentres and PokéBalls coexisted with relics of an older era—like Mustard’s clunky television. “Maybe it’s just Mustard’s preference,” he considered, reflecting on the master’s traditional leanings.

The dojo itself was a blend of old and new. The large training hall at the front, where most of the action happened, displayed the dojo’s primary purpose. But as Jake moved further inside, the living quarters revealed a surprisingly cozy and well-appointed interior. The dining room always carried a faint aroma of spices, the living room was more often than not used for Mustard’s shows, and the kitchen was alive with the constant clatter of pots and pans.

He walked down the student corridor, lined with several rooms. The corridor was adorned with paintings of fighting Pokémon, each capturing the essence of martial prowess and grace. Mienshao, Machamp, Lucario, Throh, and Sawk stared down from the walls, their images inspiring and intimidating in equal measure. One particular painting always caught Jake’s eye—a magnificently extended Kommo-o, depicted in an intricate eastern style, dominating an entire wall in the corridor, its scales almost shimmering in the painted light.

Jake passed by Ciara’s room—the door shut as usual. He rarely saw her there; she was more often found training in the hall or courtyard, either by herself, with her Pokémon, or both. Respect for privacy was a given here, and Jake never felt the urge to intrude.

Next was the room of Hyde. The door was perpetually closed, with only the faint, rhythmic clicking sounds emanating from within. Rumours about Hyde were a dime a dozen, but Jake had never seen him. His room was right next to Jake’s, a rather curious arrangement.

Jake stepped into his room, half-expecting to walk into pandemonium. To one side, next to his bed, Trixie was in the air, seemingly trying to show Iggy how to use Acrobatics. Iggy, eyes fixed on Trixie, was attempting to copy her. With each try, she would leap, spin in the air with a clumsy yet determined effort, and then land—more often than not—on her belly on the soft mat. Despite the unsuccessful landings, Iggy seemed undeterred, her small body bouncing back up each time with enthusiasm.

On the other side of the room, Arthrox and Jekyll seemed to be having a serious discussion. Jekyll, usually so reclusive and quiet, was actually participating, occasionally responding with small gestures, tilting his head, even hopping from time to time. Arthrox listened and then replied with measured, deliberate motions.

Jake watched with curiosity and relief. He'd left his Pokémon alone in the room as a bit of an experiment, wanting to see how they'd manage on their own. So far, so good—or so he thought.

Just as he was about to fully step into the room, a sudden, sharp crash echoed from next door, slicing through the calm like a knife. The noise was jarring, loud, and completely unexpected, like a machine having a meltdown. Jake whipped around, heart skipping a beat as his attention snapped to the source of the commotion.

"What the bloody hell was that?!" came a voice, clearly annoyed. "Friggin' piece of rubbish, that's what it is!"

Jake raised an eyebrow in surprise. He'd never actually heard Hyde’s voice before—usually, the room next door was silent. This was quite a change.

The voice continued, "Of all the sodding, blasted times for this to conk out...!" The rant trailed off into a series of indistinct grumbles and, judging by the tone, a fair share of swearing.

Then, a distinct smell of burning hit Jake’s nostrils. His heart sank as he slowly turned back towards his room, a sense of dread washing over him. I know exactly what I'm about to see, he thought grimly.

There stood Iggy, flames blazing out of control, her small body frozen as she stared towards the source of the noise. Unfortunately, she was also facing away from Jake’s futon, which was now catching fire. Well, that’s just fantastic, Jake thought with a sigh. Peace and calm, as usual, didn’t last long.

In the room, chaos erupted. Trixie, caught off guard by the flames, zipped away from the fire towards Jake, eyes wide with alarm. So much for our fire drill, Jake thought wryly.

Arthrox, meanwhile, glanced at the growing fire and sighed in what could only be described as exasperation. "Veni," he remarked dryly, which Jake translated as, "Fire hazard. Just as I predicted."

Down by Jake’s feet, Jekyll hopped over, looking up with his usual expression. "Kyuu!" he exclaimed, which Jake understood as something like, "Glad you’re back!" At least Jekyll was consistent, Jake supposed.

Panic flared in Jake as he realised the gravity of the situation – a fire in a wooden dojo was nothing short of a disaster. His mind raced, but then it clicked; he had his Pokémon, and together, they could tackle this.

“Trixie, I need wind currents, now! Quick Attack—circle the fire and choke it out!” he commanded. Trixie, catching the urgency in his voice, sprang into action. She zipped around the flames at lightning speed, her rapid movement creating gusts of wind that began to suffocate the fire, cutting off its oxygen supply.

“Arthrox, make some firebreaks! Clear anything flammable, dig in, whatever it takes!” Jake ordered next. Arthrox, understanding immediately, went to work. He swiftly cleared debris, dug into the tatami mats, and created strategic barriers to stop the fire from spreading any further.

“Jekyll, back up Arthrox with those firebreaks!” Jake shouted, Jekyll jumped in to assist Arthrox, moving swiftly to clear any flammable material and to help create a clear line to contain the fire. Arthrox, meanwhile, started secreting poison along the break, weakening the tatami mats to stop the fire from spreading.

“Trixie, keep an eye on them—guide them where it’s needed!” Jake called out. Trixie, still moving at high speed, began directing the others, helping them focus their efforts.

The fire’s advance began to slow, contained by the firebreaks. Jekyll’s quick thinking complemented Arthrox’s systematic approach perfectly, each Pokémon playing to their strengths.

With the firebreaks in place, Jake turned his attention to Iggy. “Iggy, controlled burn along Arthrox’s line,” he instructed. Iggy, her flames now under control and a tool rather than a threat, carefully ignited the breaks. Above, Trixie monitored the process, ensuring everything went smoothly. The fire blazed, its heat filling the room, but they were gaining ground.

As the immediate danger started to recede, Jake gave his final order. “Arthrox, now! Use Protect, then Rollout over the remaining flames!” Arthrox formed a protective barrier around himself before launching into a high-speed Rollout. His rolling form smothered the remaining embers, extinguishing the last of the fire.

Jake exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. The room was a mess, but the fire was out. He looked around at his team, all of them panting but unharmed. “Great work, everyone,” he said, relief flooding through him. They had coordinated brilliantly, especially considering how new they all were to each other.

The room was a mess—half-charred, smelling of smoke—but the fire was out, and that was the only thing that mattered. Jake’s eyes landed on Iggy, who looked positively mortified, her small body practically shrinking under the weight of her guilt.

Jake walked over to her, taking his time with each step. Iggy's bright eyes, filled with a remorse and worry, met his. “Cynda, Cynda,” she seemed to be saying, I’m really sorry.

Jake gently scooped her up, feeling the lingering warmth from her fire as he held her close. "It's okay, Iggy. We got through it, and that’s what matters," he reassured her softly, giving her a comforting hug. "We’ll work on controlling those flames together, alright?"

As he was comforting Iggy, the door burst open, and in strode Mustard, his eyes immediately taking in the scene of charred chaos. A hearty laugh erupted from him, filling the room. "Ha! What’ve you been cooking in here, lad?" he asked.

Jake, still holding Iggy, gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry about the mess, I didn’t expect—" he started, but Mustard waved him off.

"Nonsense, lad! Do you think you’re the first with a fire Pokémon? This sort of thing happens all the time!" Mustard declared, his laughter still echoing in the room.

As they spoke, two figures appeared at the door. Jake's eyes widened as he saw a Machoke and a Machop, muscular forms unmistakable. The Machoke, with its brawny arms and a confident stance, carried new tatami mats effortlessly, while the slightly smaller Machop, but no less muscular and determined, followed with a new futon.

The Machoke and Machop set to work immediately, replacing the damaged parts of the room with efficient ease. Jake, deciding to leave them to it, stepped out into the hallway with his Pokémon. Almost unwittingly, he found himself joining Mustard in front of the TV. The old master was engrossed in an episode of Antiques Roadshow, a show Jake never expected to see in this world. Great, just when I thought I’d escaped this.

His Pokémon seemed just as uninterested as he was; Trixie soon dozed off on his shoulder, her gentle breathing a clear signal that it was time to call it a night. They settled back into their newly restored room, the events of the day gradually giving way to the peaceful quiet of the evening.

The weekend arrived with a gentle dusk, the sky awash in shades of pink and orange as Jake made his way to the entrance of the Master Dojo courtyard, Trixie perched on one shoulder and Iggy on the other. The evening air was cool and crisp, carrying the distant sounds of waves crashing against the Isle’s rocks. As he approached the gate, he was surprised to find Ciara already there, casually leaning against the entrance.

Ciara's long dark brown hair was tied back in a high ponytail, swaying slightly in the evening breeze. Her intense amber eyes, usually so focused and stern, seemed softer in the fading light. Jake couldn't help but notice how striking she looked, though he quickly pushed the thought aside.

Beside her stood a Totodile, mimicking Ciara's relaxed lean against the gate. Its vibrant blue scales gleamed in the last rays of the setting sun, shimmering subtly. The Totodile's large, sharp eyes contrasted with its wide, toothy grin, and its small but sturdy body seemed poised and ready for anything, supported by strong legs and a thick tail.

Trixie, ever the social butterfly, launched herself from Jake's shoulder with a cheerful “Emol!” gliding towards Ciara. The usually reserved trainer's face lit up with a small smile at the sight, a rare break in her usual stoicism. She reached out to gently pat Trixie, who circled around her in delight.

"Didn't expect you to wait around for me," Jake teased playfully.

Ciara rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We're going to the same place," she replied, her voice carrying that distinct almost-American lilt.

At that moment, Jake noticed Iggy slipping from his shoulder and scampering over to Ciara's Totodile, still leaning against the gate in a perfect mimic of his trainer. "Looks like Maridon's picking up more than just battle moves from you," Jake remarked.

A small smile flickered across Ciara's face. "Maridon is quite impressionable, but he's a good boy. Eager to be trained," she said the last words slowly, eyes locking with Jake's for a moment.

Jake, caught a little off guard by her tone, quickly recovered. Iggy was now dashing around Maridon, the two Pokémon exchanging an enthusiastic "Cynda, quil!" and "Toto, dile!" Jake chuckled to himself, Looks like they're comparing notes—probably about their trainers. Hope I measure up. The two Pokémon must know each other well, having been part of the same batch of regional starters. Soon Trixie joined in, hopefully singing his praises.

"Impressive. Maybe I should be getting training tips from you," Jake joked, pausing with a mock-serious expression, as if something important had just dawned on him. "Speaking of training, remember our little battle? The one where I—"

As they wandered down the town streets, their Pokémon trailing behind, Ciara's expression subtly shifted, a shadow of displeasure crossing her face. "I could do without the reminder," she said coolly, though her tone carried something more beneath the surface.

Noticing the change, Jake softened. "Hey, you okay?" he asked quietly, a little concerned.

Ciara glanced at him, a fleeting vulnerability in her eyes before she quickly masked it. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just something I need to work through," she replied, her voice firm but not unkind.

Understanding, Jake simply nodded, respecting her space. But he couldn’t resist trying to lighten the mood. "Just don’t forget about that reward for winning our battle. I’m pretty sure that was part of the deal, right?"

Ciara gave a small nod, her cool demeanor back in place. "You'll get what's owed. Monday, in training," she replied, matter-of-factly.

Jake's eyes twinkled with amusement as he responded, "Monday it is, then. And thanks for the heads-up – always nice to know when I've got the upper hand in our rivalry."

Ciara’s gaze sharpened, the competitive fire rekindling in her eyes. "Upper hand, huh?" she said, her voice calm but challenging. "We’ll see about that. Just be ready, Jake. I’m not here to hold back. I’m here to be the best."

As they walked through the town, Ciara led the way with a purposeful stride, Jake following a step behind. They chatted intermittently, the tension between them easing, the conversation flowing more naturally. Around them, the townsfolk moved with a sense of urgency, as if rushing to complete their tasks before something significant. The air buzzed with anticipation, an electric excitement hanging just beneath the surface.

As they meandered down the cobblestone streets, Jake’s attention was drawn to a building that felt oddly familiar, almost like a piece of his world had been transported here. It was a small pub, quaint in design, with warm, inviting lights spilling out of its windows. The sign outside swayed gently in the evening breeze, featuring a cheerful, stylised Slowpoke gripping a stout beer with a broad smile. The Stout Slowpoke, Jake thought, smiling at the name.

Jake recognised this scene—it was like a snapshot from home. The bustling pubs, the energy of the big match. Everyone gathering in anticipation. Only this time, it was about Pokémon. The same electric atmosphere, the same buzz of excitement, but in a world so different from his own. For a brief moment, a wave of emotion washed over him—comfort and sadness intertwined. A longing for what he’d left behind, mixed with an eagerness for what lay ahead.

Trixie and Iggy leaned in closer on his shoulders, their warmth and presence a quiet reassurance. This time, Jake thought, taking in the scene before him, I’ll find out who is the Champion of Galar.