Chapter 82 - Leader Blaine

“Armarouge, Armor Cannon.”

Celeste’s heart pounded as she faced the growing, pulsating energy. The air crackled, and she felt the vibration of the attack building, forcing her to take a shaky step back. No longer surrounded, she had a window to run—but where? What could she do? Save herself? Save—

Shy’s grip tightened around her leg. The Ghost-type quivered and flickered like a dying light.

“It’s alright,” she whispered, her voice trembling too. She tried to smile, but it felt like her face was cracking. Shy’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, but his eyes were terrified. Poor thing—they were struggling, clearly. Struggling to find courage... Courage to fight? That would be nice… “It’s gonna be all right.” All Celeste could do was repeat it.

The searing light intensified. Celeste shut her eyes tight, picturing her mum, her dad, her friends, her Pokémon. Thank Arceus they were safe inside their Pokéballs. She wanted to stand tall, to embrace this… defiance—for Shy. If only she had a Pokéball for them too; maybe then she could recall them, maybe then they’d be safe. Instead, she was a trembling mess, shivering amidst the smouldering heat, heart pounding like a drum. Probably crying.

Whatever happened to “practice makes perfect”? By now, she should be able to laugh in the face of death, shouldn’t she?

The light in Armarouge’s cannon burned hotter, brighter—until—

BOOM.

The ground buckled, the trees shuddered, and a wave of heat and force washed over everything.

Everything but Celeste.

She dared to open one eye, then the other.

“Shy?” she called, half-hoping the ghost had done something miraculous. But Shy was still clinging to her leg, almost invisible as the glow faded and the shadows merged into the night. If it wasn’t Shy, then…?

“Get back!” a voice shouted from behind her. It was sharp, commanding, and weirdly familiar. Celeste spun, half-dazed, to see—

“Ariana?” And she wasn’t alone.

The punky redhead she’d met days before stood a few feet away, flanked by two men. One of them, a tall guy with dreadlocks pulled into a high bun, was staring at her with laser focus. He wore a turtleneck that looked all kinds of wrong for the heat, but his eyes—dark and sharp—weren’t quite on her. They were fixed just above her head. Celeste looked up to see an Orbeetle silently hovering overhead—how had she missed that? The bug had its arms crossed in front of it, and only when the world rattled with another attack did she realise it had put up a protective barrier.

She barely had time to process this before Ariana grabbed her by the shirt, yanking her aside.

“Didn’t you hear? Get back!” she snapped. Celeste stumbled, and the second man caught her by the shoulder. He was older, wrinkles carved deep into his face, a giant moustache dropping past his chin like a tired Caterpie. A pair of sunglasses dangled from his lapel despite it being night, and his tie—burned at the edges—featured tiny Magby, like it had been picked out by a little kid.

“That’s her, right?” he asked Ariana wearily.

“Yes, Leader Blaine,” she grumbled.

Celeste’s eyes widened. Leader Blaine? But he offered her no further attention, simply patting her back to steady her before striding toward the barrier’s edge.

Only then did she notice the Marowak creeping at the edge of the light, studying her shadow with curiosity. She didn’t know much about Marowak, but the dark markings on its skull and the eerie flames flickering on the tip of its bone suggested this wasn’t the most common form of the Pokémon.

She stepped back as Marowak reached toward her shadow, still wrapped around her leg. Shy freaked out, attempting to hide by melting into the ground—as discreet as a Copperajah in a china shop. Marowak glanced up at Celeste with a deadpan expression. She let out a nervous giggle, offering a helpless shrug.

“Lahar,” Blaine called, and the Marowak perked up, tapping its bone against its skull before leaping to his side, eagerly. “Get ready. You’re holding back that Armarouge.”

Celeste tried to wrap her head around it all, but before she could ask a single question, Ariana grabbed her arm again. “Stay close. Don’t mess this up.”

Things moved quickly from there.

Blaine gave a subtle nod, and the dreadlocked trainer commanded his Orbeetle to drop the barrier. Celeste whimpered; she liked the barrier—it was the only thing keeping them from being fried. The trainer threw her a sympathetic look, but his focus was back on Orbeetle in an instant, telling it to prepare for a teleport.

The second the barrier dropped, Marowak leapt into action.

Celeste had been so overwhelmed she’d tuned out Jude entirely, but now the barrier was down, she could see a stream of commands: “Night Shade! Armor Cannon! Incinerate!” Blaine’s strategy was simpler. He simply told his Pokémon to “Hit it with the bone.”

Marowak swung its bone with a gleeful squeal, smashing aside attacks like they were nothing. It twirled through the blasts, batting explosions away, and danced around Night Shades. When Armarouge tried to bring its armour together again, the Marowak vaulted over its arms, raining down blows like a creature possessed.

Above them, the air shimmered. Celeste looked up, trying not to freak. The Unown had amassed a significant amount of energy and their movements grew increasingly erratic as the battle raged on. It reminded Celeste too much of when the tram had vanished earlier that night.

“We’re ready, Blaine,” the Orbeetle’s trainer announced. On cue, Ariana pulled Celeste closer.

Blaine nodded. “Lahar, stop playing,” he commanded.

In a single, swift motion, Marowak swung its bone, striking Armarouge square on the helmet. The opponent disintegrated into particles of energy before it even hit the ground. Lahar flipped back, landing by Blaine’s side with a triumphant hiss.

Once again, Celeste had no time to process what was happening. She glanced up at Orbeetle just as the buildings, trees, and the swarm of bulging-eyed letters dissolved into warm lights over a battlefield. Suddenly, there was solid rock beneath her feet, high stands, and peaceful walls enclosing them.

She swayed, feeling nauseous, and she fell to one knee.

“What the hell is going on?” Celeste gasped, looking around wildly. All eyes were on her again, but at least this time, it wasn’t the Unown.

—*——*—

Celeste stared into the mirror, eyes tracing the smudges of soot streaked across her cheeks and neck. Her skin, red and irritated from the heat, felt sticky under the cooling layers of sweat. She gingerly touched her face, relieved that it was just surface damage—no blisters, just the ache from all the running and stumbling. She’d got off lucky.

She turned on the tap, letting cold water into her cupped hands before splashing it onto her face.

It was a relief, washing away some of the grime and, for a moment, the tension. Taking a deep breath, Celeste glanced over her shoulder to check that the bathroom door was still locked, then looked down at her Pokémon.

Pat was burned pretty badly; his fur was singed, and he winced with every movement. He needed a Potion, a Burn Heal—maybe even a proper Nurse Joy visit. And Shy? Shy hovered beside him, their form flickering, edges blurring under the harsh fluorescent light. Not hurt, just exhausted. At least there was that.

Celeste exhaled and slid down the tiled wall until she was sitting on the cool floor. “What do I do now?” she murmured, hugging her knees to her chest.

When they’d first arrived here—wherever here was—Leader Blaine had fixed her with a look she couldn’t read and told her to come to his office. No explanations, no time to ask Ariana questions about her friends or anything. Just business. In a panic, she blurted something about needing the bathroom, and the next thing she knew, some boy was escorting her here. She’d locked herself in, brought Pat up to speed, and now here she was—about two seconds from losing it.

“Leader Blaine said to come to his office,” she muttered, more to herself than them. “That’s never good. Maybe we could… I don’t know… find a hiding spot around here. Somewhere he wouldn’t—”

Shy touched her leg, giving her a small negative. Pat kept on just blinking.

“You guys don’t understand,” Celeste insisted. “This is bad. Really bad.”

She chewed her lower lip.

“Remember when we fought Ryder to help Four Island? We ended up in Chief Jenny’s office—and then in jail.” She paused as the two Pokémon exchanged glances. “And before that, there were Mum and Dad. They didn’t have an office, but ‘we need to talk’ always meant I’d messed up somehow—not being a good role model for the other kids watching us, going off script, wondering off route...”

She pushed herself up and began pacing the small bathroom. “And school—don’t even get me started on school!” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “The academy was the worst. How many times did I hear, ‘Go to the head teacher’s office’? Somehow, I always managed to do something wrong.”

She mimicked the exasperated tone of Mr Quill, her former head teacher. “‘Celeste, your assignment was to discuss space, not make up stories. A twenty-minute presentation on how Rayquaza fell in love with the moon? Seriously?’”

She let out a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Or how about, ‘Celeste, you cannot convince your entire class that Lyra is cursed. Her parents are furious.’”

Turning to her Pokémon, she continued, getting louder. “‘Let me get this straight, Celeste. You gathered all the Skwovet on school grounds, organised them, and led a march on the cafeteria because you wanted to save a tree? Sus-pen-sion!’”

Out of breath, she leaned against the sink.

“You see? It doesn’t matter what I do—I’m always in trouble. If I leave school to join my parents, I’m in trouble. If I leave them to travel on my own,” she let out a bitter laugh, “I end up in jail. Arceus, my community service was supposed to be delivering a package at Cinnabar Labs. And what did I do when I finally got there? Set off fireworks inside the building! How am I supposed to explain that to Blaine without sounding completely insane?”

She sank back to the floor, resting her head against the tile wall.

“So… before this Gym Leader kicks us out, we hide. Maybe there’s a vent we can crawl through, or—”

Pat nudged closer, laying his head on her leg. His eyes were warm, steady, like he was trying to tell her it was okay to breathe. Celeste took in a deep gulp of air, ready to go on, but instead of words, she just let it out in a long, defeated sigh.

Shy floated toward the wall, their form beginning to shift. Within moments, they morphed into the familiar figure of… Olga?

“What are you doing?” Celeste asked, blinking in surprise. “Olga was always telling me what I did wrong.”

The ghostly figure placed their hands on their hips, mimicking Olga’s perfectly.

“Well... okay,” Celeste conceded, letting a small smile out. “She did trust me in the end. She trained me, even when I was being a brat. She was tough and maybe a little unfair at times, but she even helped us sort out that whole jail mess. Maybe... I’m not saying every adult is out to get me.”

Wasn’t she, though?

She inhaled, deep and slow. “You know, when I showed my parents that Rayquaza story, they didn’t get mad. They loved it. They said it was creative.” Celeste’s voice softened as she recalled the memory. “They even ran a contest on their show for kids to come up with their own myths. They said they were inspired by me.” She let her fingers trail across Pat’s back, the rhythm soothing her. “And when I got suspended, Opal marched into the academy herself. She told Mr Quill it was wrong to cut down the oldest tree on the grounds for a parking lot. She said I did good by the Skwovet. She called me brave.”

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Shy drifted closer, their eyes encouraging.

“The Lyra thing only got me detention, but honestly? She deserved it.” Celeste giggled, the sound lighter now. “And, hey—Opal’s a Gym Leader, just like Blaine. And I’m not scared of Opal.”

She took another deep breath, feeling a bit steadier.

“Running and hiding from the people who just saved us… that’d be pretty stupid, huh?” Shy nodded, giving her a small, encouraging look. “W-Will you two stay with me while I talk to him?”

—*——*—

“So… are you okay now?”

The boy who’d led Celeste to the bathroom was guiding her through a maze of narrow, stuffy corridors. The place felt like a burrow, walls pressing in, the air heavy and warm. Oddly enough, he had no Pokémon with him, which made her frown. How had he not been affected by the Unown? Celeste studied him closer: shorter than her, a few spots of acne dotting his cheeks, and the same kind of sunglasses Blaine had hung from his collar. Also, his puffy grey and red vest had the Volcano Badge symbol stitched on the chest.

“…I was fine before,” she muttered, blinking against the dim light.

“You didn’t sound fine,” he replied with a smile. “It sounded like you were freaking out pretty bad in that bathroom.” Before she could respond, another trainer in the same uniform passed by, balancing a stack of plates. An Incineroar followed, carrying a steaming pot that smelled like… porridge?

Wait, was it already morning?

“I was supposed to be covering kitchen duty for Dinah today,” the boy explained, shrugging. “She took the day off, so we’re all pitching in. And then you showed up and kind of messed up the schedule.” He grinned. “Not that I mind—you’re way better than kitchen duty.”

She stared at him, her gaze lingering on the sunglasses and the emblem on his vest.

It should have been obvious.

“You’re a Gym Trainer,” she said, remembering the ones she’d seen at the Pokémon Centre when she first arrived on Cinnabar. None of them had been in uniform then.

The boy puffed out his chest, hands on his hips. “Yep. And a pretty good one, too.”

Celeste raised an eyebrow at that.

“I am!” His voice jumped an octave, his cheeks flushing. “I’m top of the first badge group. After all my work here, I’m hoping to get promoted to the second badge.”

She smirked. “Work? You mean kitchen duty?”

“Wax and I train hard too, okay!” He crossed his arms, glaring at her. “Typical Water trainer, thinking she can put out our fire.”

Water trainer? Her eyes darted to Pat, trudging behind her with his usual slow, sleepy pace.

“You won’t stand a chance with a Slowpoke, y’know?” The boy flashed literally all his teeth at her. “Me and Wax, we’ve got the advantage, type-wise, and—wait, I wanted to ask, how were you okay with only a Slowpoke around?”

Celeste stiffened, avoiding glancing directly at Shy. Trying to keep her tone casual, she let out an exaggerated snort. “And who’s Wax? Your imaginary friend?”

The boy flinched. “Wha—no! Wax... He… likes to wander, that’s all.” His voice wavered as he tried to sound indignant.

“Riiight,” she drawled, rolling her eyes. “So if Wax is wandering, how come you’re fine without him?”

He squinted at her, clearly suspicious. “I asked you first.”

She sighed. They both reached a door, which Celeste guessed was Leader Blaine’s office. Great. Maybe she could pester this boy a little longer to delay whatever was next. “Own Tempo. The Unown don’t affect Pat… and… uh… I guess me by extension.”

He didn’t buy it, crossing his arms. “That’s not how Own Tempo works. It doesn’t extend to people. And… ‘unknown’? You’re seriously calling them that? Is it ‘cause you don’t know what they are?”

She blinked. Didn’t they know about the Unown? Leader Blaine had to…

Celeste shrugged very nonchalantly. “Well, it’s that or there’s a secret ghost in my shadow. Which one do you think it is?”

He eyed her warily. “You don’t look like someone who could handle a ghost.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but felt a soft nudge from Shy before she said anything. So instead, she grumbled under her breath. “Let me guess, Wax is a Ghost-type?”

With a big nod and an even bigger grin, the boy puffed his chest. “He’s my Litwick. Totally flaming.”

Did… he say Litwick?

Over the past few days, Celeste had replayed everything that had happened since arriving on the island many times. She recalled a conversation with some Gym Trainers at the Pokémon Centre. They’d mentioned their leader had gone mad—something she now knew wasn’t true. But they’d also talked about a friend with a Litwick…

“You’re Dan,” she said, the name surfacing effortlessly.

He frowned. “Yeah...? How did you—”

“I met your friend. Max,” she explained. “He broke through for a moment. He was worried about you and your Litwick. Said something about you officiating a battle when Blaine supposedly went mad. There was a girl with a Charmander too...”

“Rayla…” Dan’s face fell. “Yeah, that’s them. The whole underground of the Gym is safe for us, but the grown-ups said it’s too risky to bring more people down here. Including the other Gym Trainers. That’s why Blaine shut the Gym and only kept people who had ghosts, bugs, or psychics.” His voice grew quiet. “Are they… are they okay?”

Celeste nodded. “I think they’re all hanging out at the Pokémon centre. Having parties… having fun.”

Dan let out a bitter laugh. “Must be nice...”

Maybe. Or maybe they were all trapped in illusions they couldn’t escape. But she didn’t say that.

“So… they mentioned you were officiating a battle when everything went to shit?” she asked.

Dan’s expression shifted, but he managed a small smile. “Watch your language around, Blaine. He’ll scold you for swearing.”

Celeste almost laughed. That sounded so delightfully normal.

“The guy with the Orbeetle who brought you in? That’s Caleb. He was going for his eighth Gym badge. Battle started out fine—he set up a Psychic Terrain, and Blaine used Lahar, his Marowak. Lahar’s actually a Gym Pokémon, but after this, I think Blaine might put him on his personal team.” Dan paused, and Celeste leaned in, her curiosity piqued. “Everything seemed normal at first, but then the terrain went wild. It flared up like crazy. I thought it was some new strategy or that Caleb’s Orbeetle was just that strong. But then… the barriers around the battlefield started acting weird too.”

“But it wasn’t the Orbeetle, was it?” she asked.

Dan shook his head, his energy returning as he spoke. “Nope. Caleb looked just as freaked out. Then there was this rumble—like the volcano was about to erupt. I panicked, called Wax closer, and braced myself. When things calmed down, the other trainer ref’ing with me… well, you’ve seen how people get here.”

“And what did you do?”

“I thought the battle would continue,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everything looked normal again. I went to Blaine to tell him we were down a referee, but... I don’t know. It was confusing. He and Caleb started kicking people out, only keeping those with Pokémon strong against Psychic-types. We were—”

“Terrified?” she finished. He nodded slowly.

Dan looked at the door, his expression serious. “You’d better go in.”

Celeste’s throat tightened. “Am I in trouble?”

He gave her a small smile. “I think… we all are.”

—*——*—

Celeste stepped into Blaine’s office, expecting something sterile, with a serious Gym Leader vibe. Sleek desks, battle posters, maybe even a few Pokéballs on display. Instead, the room was cluttered but in a warm, lived-in way. Cosy, she decided. The floor was a reddish concrete, blanketed with thick wool rugs that made the room stuffy and warm. So much that sweat was already starting to bead on her forehead. A wall of trophies on the far side of the room caught her eye, but they weren’t battle awards or anything of the kind—Titles such as Pub Quiz Master, Trivia Champ, and even Jeopardy Winner lined the shelves.

What the hell?

She blinked, turning her gaze to the other side of the room. There, an oversized fireplace roared with a colourful dancing fire where Lahar, Blaine’s Marowak, was busy—doing… she wasn’t sure what. The Pokémon scooped up flames with its bone, tossing them into one of two large coal-filled vases in the corners. Above the mantle, she noticed photos of people she didn’t recognise at a glance. She couldn’t help but inch closer, and when she did, she spotted familiar faces—Fuji and Amber, even Private Surge (who she met in Vermilion, forever ago). At the centre was a massive painting of Blaine surrounded by Fire-types: Rapidash, Arcanine, Magmar.

“Ahem.” Blaine cleared his throat, making Celeste jump.

He wasn’t seated behind a desk as she’d expected, but was instead lounging on a massive couch in the center of the room, hunched over a book. A pillow and folded blanket lay beside him, suggesting he’d been sleeping there. The couch faced a large window that offered a view—

She blinked once, then again.

Through the window, she saw a lava pit. And not just it. But an entire battle arena being constructed above the bubbling pool of molten rock.

Noticing her stare, Blaine chuckled. “I’m hoping it’ll be ready by spring. Should attract high-level trainers looking for one last push before the conference this year. Still working out a few kinks, however.”

“You... you want to have battles inside a volcano?” Her jaw dropped.

He smiled, rising to his feet and setting the book on a low table. “The volcano is miles away, actually. We’re beneath the Gym.” He gestured expansively toward the window. “Local Fire-types have carved these underground chambers over centuries, redirecting lava flows. We maintain them. Excellent for training.”

“So, you built a battlefield… over lava? Underground?” Celeste turned to face him fully now. In the warm glow, he looked older, the lines on his face more pronounced, but his eyes sparkled with the same intensity as the Marowak’s flames.

He chuckled. “All our battlefields are underground. This is just the first one over an active lava flow.” His expression turned serious. “Now, as much as I enjoy discussing my Gym, we have much to talk about.”

“We… do…?” Celeste felt her shoulders tense, glancing nervously at Pat, who blinked up at her, before Blaine gestured for her to sit.

Before he followed her, Blaine paused, his eyes settling on her Pokémon. “You realise your Slowpoke needs a Burn Heal, don’t you?”

She stared at the floor, embarrassed. “He was fighting that… that thing. The one your Marowak beat.”

His footsteps clattered behind her, but she kept her eyes fixed on the table. There was a book on it—a poetry book? Could it be—?

“It’s called Armarouge,” Blaine explained, opening a cupboard. “Fire-Psychic type. Mostly native to Paldea, though we have two here at the gym. The creatures you saw must’ve copied one.”

The word caught her attention, and she looked up. “Copied?”

Blaine nodded, rummaging through the cupboard’s contents. “Those creatures out there don’t create; they replicate. It’s why they chose Nurse Joy and Officer Jenny’s likeness. Familiar images, etched in everyone’s mind.” With a click, he pulled out a green bottle. A Full Restore. Her eyes widened—it was a lot. Not even on her shopping spree when she started out, she splurged on one herself. “Does your ghost need healing, too?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “G-ghost? W-what ghost?” She attempted a laugh, but it sounded horrible. Blaine’s eyes flicked to her shadow, and he simply nodded.

“We can circle back to that later,” he muttered as he crouched down by Pat—wincing slightly as his back cracked—and began applying the Full Restore with practised ease. The Slowpoke let out a satisfying sigh as the medicine took effect and his burned skin regained its healthy sheen.

Celeste felt relieved. Blaine seemed like a decent guy, treating Pat so gently. But… when was the other shoe gonna drop?

Blaine patted Pat’s head gently. “Brave one, to face an Armarouge.”

“He is,” Celeste agreed. “He also defeated the Growlithe and Houndour they... copied earlier. I was so proud.”

Pat let out a toothy, his tail swishing more lively than before. Blaine stood with another soft groan, rubbing his back. “A Growlithe and a Houndour, you say?” He moved back to the couch opposite from her.

“Yeah,” she replied, still cautious. “The fake Jenny had the Growlithe, and I guess they used the Houndour… template… from here too?”

He settled into his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re a quick study.” A small smile played at his lips. “We train police Growlithe here in Cinnabar, so yes, there are plenty. Houndour are less common, despite being native to Johto. We only have four at the Gym—including the gym trainers’.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you a challenger?”

The question threw her off. She glanced down at the book again, trying to compose herself. “I—well, you see—I...”

Blaine laughed softly, and she didn’t look up. “What badge?”

“F-first…”

He stopped laughing. Was she that pathetic? She felt her cheeks burn even hotter and tried to pass it off as the heat from the room. Rey would definitely say she was pathetic, though. “I thought getting badges would be cool, y’know?” she blurted, suddenly.

Her fingers started fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, and she could only manage quick, nervous glances in Blaine’s direction.

“I—I like battling, I think?” The words spilled out faster than she could control. “I mean, I’m still figuring myself out and what my goal is and all that, but that’s what a journey’s for, right? My mum keeps saying I need to plan it all out, but it’s like—I never have time to think because I keep getting in trouble, and I feel like me and my Pokémon need to get stronger, and—did I mention battling’s fun?” Celeste was losing track of her own words now. “I figured getting badges would be a good way to get strong and have a goal, and then I can figure out what I want to do once I’ve got them all—like, then I’ll know. But my mum wants me to have it all sorted by summer, and I… I don’t—it’s stressful. But battling is fun, and I like the challenge! I swear, I’m not starting here just because I think fire’s easy since I have a Slowpoke. My other Pokémon is an Ice-type, so, like, no advantage there. And my third one’s a Normal-type—my Eevee—but we’ve been training Dig.” She paused, realising how fast she was going, then pressed on anyway. “Not that I think she can dig through the rocks in your arena, and she’s definitely not digging through that lava-battlefield. I… well… We didn’t come here just for the badges. There was this thing on Four Island, and I’m just—I’m—”

She stopped when she ran out of air, only to find Blaine watching her, an amused expression on his face.

Celeste then grabbed the poetry book, desperate to change the subject. “So, uh, you’re reading my parents’ book. How d’ya like it?” She flipped it open to a random page, eyes landing on the first word.

Breathe.

Haha. Very funny, book.

Blaine blinked at that last comment. “I’m sorry. Did you say this is your parents’ book?”

She peeked over the edge of the page, offering a tentative nod. The lava pit outside looked like a more merciful option than this conversation.

“These poems were written centuries ago.” Blaine tried to sound gentle. “Are your parents writers? Editors?”

He hadn’t connected the dots yet. Celeste took a deep breath, just like the book told her. “Archaeologists.”

A moment passed. Then—

“You’re… Tiana and Otto Diaz’s daughter? Not Celina—Celeste?”

She nodded, feeling small. Also… Celina?

“Did they send you?” Blaine asked, reclining back. “No, you just told me otherwise. After you shared your entire strategy for earning my Gym Badge.” A chuckle escaped him at the last part. “Unless...”

“Trust me, Mum and Dad want me far away from any Gym circuit in any region. And I’m pretty sure they won’t be thrilled to know I’m stuck on an island full of Unown.”

His gaze sharpened. “Did they tell you anything about—?”

She interrupted with a snort. “Honestly, my parents don’t tell me sh—” She caught his glare. “Sorry.”

Instead of pressing further, she reached into her backpack and pulled out Fuji’s journal, placing it atop the poetry book. “You know about the Unown too,” she said. “I read this last night. Why do I get the feeling no one else here besides us knows what they’re called?”

Blaine picked up the journal, flipping through its pages. “I only know what Ren told me,” he admitted. “He returned from Tanoby with a box full of stone slabs he intended to study. It had something to do with these Unown. He mentioned beta waves? It must have gone wrong. Perhaps they followed him from there, or maybe the slabs were cursed.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I encouraged him. Anything would’ve been better than his other plan.”

“Faraway Island.” Celeste whispered.

He nodded slowly. “Ren left the poetry book with me, hoping it would inspire me to do more for his daughter… I’ve been reading it, searching for answers, but beyond Otto Diaz’s notes, it’s just poetry.” His gaze met hers, intent. “You, young lady, are the first new development we’ve had in days. A bit of a mystery yourself.”

Blaine was more serious now. And staring at her.

“I’m not a mystery,” Celeste said, feeling dread rise again. “Are you… are you kicking me out for provoking them?” She kept her voice steady, only managing it thanks to Pat and Shy clinging to her ankles.

Blaine seemed genuinely taken aback. “Why in the world would I leave a child at the mercy of those creatures?”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Because I’m wrong. And trouble. And I’ll mess things up and... and...”

Before she could finish, Blaine moved to sit beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, the concern in his eyes was clear. That was when the dam broke. All the fear, stress, and doubt she’d been bottling up flooded out in a torrent of sobs. He didn’t say a word, just let her cry. When Celeste was finally done, he smiled warmly.

“You’re safe here, even if you set fire to the gym.”

Celeste wiped her eyes. “That’s probably good for training.”

Blaine smirked. “True. But I usually recommend controlling the fire. And don’t think you’ll win a badge by relying on Dig alone.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Especially now that you’ve told me your strategy.”

Her eyes went wide.

“Get some rest, Miss Diaz.” He nodded toward the journal. “We’ll continue this later.”