Chapter 11: R8 | Elo Terrorist

Nobody recognized the woman who entered the arena. Her burgundy coat and matching beret, her straight blonde bob, and her tasteful rouge and lipstick suggested an actress or supermodel. Only her awkward gait gave her away before she ascended the trainer platform.

Cely urged her to bring her new look to the masses. Hands on shoulders, treacly voice in ear, she proved persuasive. Out here, though, there was only Toril, and those words wore off, and she wondered what the fuck she was thinking, and tucked her head into her collar like always.

At least on the platform she had holoscreens to stare at. Her brain entered game mode. No amount of distraction erased her preplanned strategy for Yui Matsui, a black blot Toril barely looked at (smoky, Cely might say, a touch gothic, Cely might say), as she selected her first Pokémon.

"Go, Ingmar!"

"Shiro."

Clouds built and snow pelted the arena as Toril's Alolan Ninetales stared down Yui's Garchomp. It was almost dull how bad a misplay Yui made. Did she expect Zoroark? Even then, Garchomp was an unideal opener.

What does that mean, Yui's battling for someone else? Toril asked at the end of the makeover. (As if the transactional pretense of their relationship still mattered.) How will that change how she battles?

Cely had scoffed at her, like it was so obvious. She's gonna try too hard.

Trying too hard looked suspiciously like not trying at all. Yui, not one to display emotion, blanched.

Ninetales outsped Garchomp, so Blizzard would knock it out before it got the chance to move. Yui probably planned to panic swap, so Toril's typical play—Aurora Veil to set up for Baxcalibur—was safest.

Toril called the move. Yui's aghast open mouth became a sick smile. "Iron Head."

Before Toril had a chance to think, Who in the world takes Iron Head, Garchomp cut through the snowfall. Its skull shined steel as it crushed Ingmar into the earth.

Ingmar didn't get back up. Garchomp wiped him out in one hit.

It took precious, stunned seconds for Toril to parse what happened. The explanation for how it moved faster than Ingmar came readily enough, especially when it reared back and allowed the previously-concealed scarf to unfurl from its neck. The part Toril didn't understand was Yui.

Garchomp's physical attributes and movepool made it a strong Stealth Rock setter, with options to break walls and check physical attackers. To that end, it almost always took either Leftovers or Rocky Helmet as its held item. Giving it a Choice Scarf—which amped its speed at the cost of locking it into the first move it picked—went completely against the niche it clung to in the current metagame.

Maybe in medieval times, when Cynthia's famous Garchomp terrorized the IPL, Choice Scarf did something. Nowadays, this build was a complete joke.

A complete joke that just kicked Toril's ass.

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The VIP box lacked its usual character. Yui and Toril were gone, obviously, but so was Raj for some reason. Domino missed those kids, they livened the place up.

Now, he and Britt had the oh-so-gracious company of his overnight superstar daughter.

"I told her Yui's trying too hard. She didn't listen at all. Now look, she's sent out Baxcalibur. Totally ugly."

"It's a fine move," Domino said. "Snow's up, and with Ninetales down it won't ever go up again, so she wants to get Bax working now. Even a crazy Iron Head Garchomp won't take it down quick enough."

Cely flicked her wrist to toss that perfectly reasonable explanation into a metaphorical garbage bin. "Oh, I'm sure Tors calculated it all. But she's mad now. It's a problem."

Below, Baxcalibur used Dragon Dance, while Garchomp whacked it with Iron Head. The jumbotron showed Toril's face, and yeah, she looked pissed.

"She's not thinking about Yui at all," Cely said. "She's thinking of Yui like Yui's another Toril. So Toril thinks, I'd switch Garchomp out of this losing matchup. Yui doesn't care. Garchomp is here to smash its head into things. Toril's taking hits she doesn't need. I told her. Dad, I told her."

Garchomp slammed its head into Bax again. Bax stayed standing, but only just, and now it looked as pissed as Toril. Icicle spears formed on the jagged edges of its axe-shaped spine. One spin and it launched five spears, which nailed Garchomp one after another. Garchomp dropped, out literally cold.

Yui's next Pokémon appeared.

"What is that thing? Sneasel?"

"Sneasler," Domino said. "Hisui Pokémon. Yui's from Sinnoh, so she's lucky enough to—" He noticed the look Britt gave him. Had been giving him, ever since Cely entered. "Ah, Cely, don't you think we should uh, talk?"

"And Toril has to immediately switch because Baxcalibur's too hurt. Is she seriously gonna lose after I made her look so cute?"

Annihilape came out and took a limp Dire Claw from Sneasler.

"Cely. Believe it or not, I don't care that much about this match. I wanna talk to you. You're a semifinalist now."

"I know Dad. And this game's winner is my next opponent, so-o yeah."

Britt fidgeted. Domino expelled air. Two years earlier, Cely and Britt got into a fight—or something. Domino didn't see it, Britt couldn't talk, Cely wouldn't talk. All he knew was Britt ran to him sobbing. Maybe it wasn't a fight. It might've been Cely thought something mean, and Britt felt it. But Britt was a good girl, well-trained. It wasn't easy to hurt her. A few weeks later, Fiorella sent Cely away for an "internship."

"Cely. I still have old friends in the media sphere. Friends your mother hasn't turned against me even."

"Okay, and?"

"My guy at Battlers Weekly says they're dropping a story on you this week."

"They did one last week too. Guess I'm a big deal now."

"Cely. This story—it's no puff piece. It's about you and that quackhouse your mother shipped you to."

"Quackhouse?"

"You know what I'm talking about. RISE. It's a story about you and RISE. Cely, what the fuck have you been doing with those people?"

Cely tilted her head away from the glass. "Waiting for the world to end."

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Sneasler came in with no balloon. Which meant Choice Scarf (like Garchomp), which meant no Unburden, which meant no Acrobatics. Which meant Annihilape.

Except immediately afterward, Toril doubted. Yui ran that insane asylum tech on Garchomp specifically to counter Ninetales. (Meaning full confidence in the Ninetales opener. Why? Toril was equally likely to open Zoroark.) What if Yui ran something else idiotic, maybe like Fling/Unburden/Acrobatics, specifically to bait out and counter Annihilape?

Is this what Cely meant by trying too hard?

The splayed remnants of Toril's fingers gripped her forehead. A timer ticked within her mind's void. The audience's presence insisted itself upon her, inescapable.

"Bulk Up!"

"Return," said Yui. "Go, Mimi."

Mimi was Yui's Corviknight. Strong, boring defensive pivot. Type advantage over Annihilape but nowhere near enough power to win one-on-one. Toril settled down, slipped back into her space, told Annihilape to Bulk Up again.

"Brave Bird," said Yui.

Corviknight shot skyward, angled sharply, and dove at Annihilape so fast its steel feathers steamed and then burst into flame. The strike cut the air with a clap and somehow even the double-bulked Annihilape skidded back. Despite his stoic disposition Toril knew the hit was massive, but if not for her holoscreen's readout she never would've believed just how much. Corviknight ate over half his health in one swoop.

Toril withheld furious disbelief and calculated. How was that much power even possible? Yet another Choice item? No, the rattled Corviknight gobbled some Leftovers to recover from recoil. Defense EVs reallocated into attack? This was psychopathic.

Trying too hard, no. Yui was a fucking terrorist.

Unlike versus Cely, Toril took Drain Fist instead of Taunt. Double bulked up, Corviknight no defense EVs, Drain Punch does 40 percent base, heals 20 percent. Rest first, survive two more attacks, Rage Fist 200 power, wipe out Corviknight plus anything else that moved.

"Rest."

"Brave Bird."

Annihilape acted first. His action was to instantly fall asleep. As trained—hours of training, days, weeks to get it done unconsciously—he rifled through his fur and withdrew the Chesto Berry to wake himself up.

Then something Toril never saw before happened. He didn't eat the berry.

Corviknight alighted, its beady glare set on Annihilape the entire time. Annihilape's fur bristled, not in fury, but in fear. Toril didn't know Annihilape felt fear. It transfixed him. The berry remained in his hand.

No. No way. That Corviknight. It couldn't.

But it could. It had Unnerve.

All Pokémon possessed a special ability that affected battle. Within a species, though, there might be multiple abilities. A genetics thing, hereditary, recessive and dominant, whatever, the science didn't matter. Point was, any proper competitive Corviknight had Pressure, perfect for defensive walling. But in the wild, you saw Corviknight with another ability: Unnerve. This ability did nothing except prevent its opponent from eating berries. Useful when hunting the berry-eating critters it called prey, but near worthless on the arena floor, where most Pokémon held Leftovers or Choice Whatevers.

Except, of course, Toril's Annihilape. Who took another Brave Bird, lost half his health again, and stayed asleep.

Toril ripped the stupid fucking beret off her head and spiked it. Her gloves pawed at her face and succeeded in irritating her eyes. She imagined Aracely cackling, having set her up obviously, divining with mind reader dipshittery Toril's entire gameplan to blab to Yui. Why? Because she hated Toril, wanted to humiliate her, every prior kindness a confidence trap for this singular moment! Toril knew it. Knew it, knew it, knew it!

"Rasmus, return. Go—Heidi!"

It was impossible to have prepared for this Pokémon. Toril never showed it before.

Heidi's massive jaws struck fear into any Pokémon. Corviknight no exception. As it swooped for another Brave Bird—no attempt made to predict the swap—it balked. The attack did nearly nothing.

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Toril patted her big dumb coat until she found the pocket that contained the charm, which she then rolled around her fingers and held up pinned between two.

"Now, Mega Evolve!"

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"Oh! Such a cute Pokémon. What's it called?"

Domino couldn't resist. "Mawile. And it's not cute for no reason. It lures its prey, then gulps em up in those huge jaws. But that's not the point here. Focus on me for a second Cely."

"If I don't send my friend my energy, she's gonna lose."

She said such nutty crap with a straight face. "I'm your father and we need to talk about you being in a freaking cult!"

"But I'm not, Dad?"

"I knew the necklace was weird. I shoulda figured it out then. But no. Tell me right now, what the hell is this RISE crap."

Cely tsked. Not at him, at the arena floor. "Yui wasn't expecting this. She has nothing planned. I don't blame her, I wouldn't either. What type even is it?"

As a flash subsided, the Mega Evolved Mawile stooped under the weight of its twin sets of jaws. Each frothed, snapping and snarling, pulling the tiny body beneath this way and that. If not given something to chew quick, they would self-cannibalize.

Domino couldn't care about that, no matter how impressive a specimen. He waved away a concerned Britt as he summoned a chest's worth of air.

"You answer me when I ask you a question!"

"It's nothing, Dad."

"Nothing! They're running an article on it!"

"That's because Gladion got pissy. It's no big deal."

"I hear people say they don't let you out of this cult once you join."

"I'm out, aren't I?"

"Are you?!"

Yui swapped out Corviknight for Sneasler. Cely was right, she really didn't have a good answer. Sneasler might hurt Mawile, but Mawile hurt more, especially after it spent the switch cutting its teeth with Swords Dance.

"Cely you know how people feel about these teams."

"It's not a team, Dad. It's a health and wellness clinic."

"You know where I grew up? You know right?"

"I know, Dad."

"Tiny town in the desert. Completely run by a team. Cops bought and paid for. My older brother—that's your uncle, though you never met him—he joined. Either you joined or you got pushed around. Wanted me to join too. I stole his Sandshrew and skipped."

"Dad, super cool story and all, one I totally haven't heard a zillion times, but RISE isn't a team."

"Then what the fuck is this end-of-the-world crap? Only a few years ago one of these nutjob cults attacked the IPL finals. They put your mother in a coma, remember? I know you do. The IPL gets a whiff you're involved, we're DQed."

The crowd let out a collective gasp as Sneasler got in Mawile's face for a brutal bout of Close Combat. Barely standing, Mawile clamped both sets of jaws and shook Sneasler like a chew toy, which was one way to interpret the command Play Rough. When finally spat out, Sneasler slumped in a dead faint.

"They won't disqualify me. Everyone loves me."

"You're so sure, huh?"

"But that's the only reason it matters to you, right?"

"What the hell does that mean?!"

"Have you ever stopped to wonder why Mom sent me to RISE in the first place?"

"She's nuts."

"Mm. Maybe ask her some day."

"Like hell I'm talking to that b—that woman. You have something to say, say it to me right now Cely. I'm serious, quit screwing around."

For the first time, Yui fell onto the back foot. She wasn't sure what to do next. Mawile was hurt, most Pokémon finished it with a solid hit, but the question was how much damage it did beforehand. She sent out Corviknight, expecting type resistance.

Bad move.

"Fire Fang," Toril said. Twin mouths full of flame chomped hot enough to sear straight through steel feathers. Corviknight got gulped up, only its wings sticking between the teeth, then spat out a limp mess. Yui lost two Pokémon in as many turns.

"Um, Dad? Hello-o? Wanna continue our little shouting match?"

Domino tore his eyes from the arena. "You were the one who was watching, dammit."

"Wow. For a second I thought you actually wanted me to tell you something about myself."

"Then tell me. Quit playing these ridiculous games. Why did you join this freaking cult. Why, Cely."

Cely tapped a fingernail to her lower lip. She smiled, past Domino, and Domino felt Britt shiver against his shoulder.

"I don't think I'll tell you."

"Unbelievable. Just like your mother."

"I'm nothing like her. The only thing you need to know, Dad, is that RISE was the first place that made me understand the world had a direction. That it wasn't simply an aimless set of molecules zipping through space, that it was ordered and organized and pointed in the shape of a line with a clear beginning and end. If I never saw that line, I wouldn't be here. I am only here, in this funny little tournament, because I know where the line ends. You understand that, Dad? Does that come through crystal freaking clear for you?"

Britt's body shook like a leaf. Her hand extended, fingers twisted in the pose of summoning a barrier. The hell? What exactly did she think Cely was going to do?

A twinge struck Domino's chest. He slapped his sternum hard, coughed, and surrendered. "Cely. You're in semifinals. Only two matches separate you from eternal glory, okay? I don't care if you're nuts. Everyone who ever won this tournament was nuts. I was nuts too, shit, I still am. What I'm saying is: don't let anyone know it."

No change overcame Cely. Her smile remained, her pose, her eyes. Strange eyes, his daughter had strange eyes. The only way Domino knew the situation defused was the sudden calm that overtook Brittany.

"Dad," Cely said, "I am far, far better at that than you could ever imagine."

Who exactly was this daughter of his? What was she becoming, or had already become?

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Toril got away with robbery. It sickened her. One by one she tugged the buttons of her coat until they tore.

Yui fumbled in face of Mawile like Aracely against Jinjiao's Lopunny. No strategy, no clever outplay. Simple incompetence at the quarterfinal level.

Finally, Yui revealed Tyranitar.

Wind whipped up around the primordial stone creature, long unchanged in the deep mountain dens within which it dwelled. The arena grew cloudy with sand that whistled off Heidi's sleek steel jaws. Toril expected this ever since the Garchomp play, and seeing it confirmed what Yui's final Pokémon would be.

The situation remained dire. Toril had more Pokémon, but they were in lousy shape. Baxcalibur nearly fainted, Annihilape halfway there. And Mawile. Mawile was almost certainly slower than everything left on Yui's team and would drop in a single hit. She fought well, but this was the end.

"Mega Evolve," Yui said.

Tyranitar hunkered down and split off uneven stalagmites from its body. The size and weight of the protrusions made it painful for Tyranitar to move, but the defensive upgrade was enormous.

"Finish it with Stone Edge!"

"Sucker Punch," said Toril.

Heidi expended her final reserves for a weak, cheap shot on Tyranitar before a jagged rock came down on her.

Toril recalled Heidi's unconscious form and sent out Rillaboom. At this point her mind whirred far ahead of the current battle state. She gave up thinking about Aracely's advice. Fuck her. This battle would be decided by Yui's final Pokémon and Toril's. Everything between was in service of putting that Pokémon in the best position possible, and to accomplish that required knowledge, planning, and actual skill.

"Wood Hammer." Toril didn't expect Yui to let that attack land on her precious Tyranitar. The goal was to force out Yui's penultimate Pokémon.

"Rin, return. Irie!"

There. A lumbering, dripping, gelatinous body, into which Rillaboom's stick sank worthlessly. As slime glopped off, Rillaboom—always a prude—retracted, leaving the stick inside for the body to suck the sap from.

Goodra, Hisuian Goodra, given form thanks to the steel shell curled atop its back. Yui's second Hisuian Pokémon. Easy to reach quarters when your opponents only knew your Pokémon from books. Which made—

"Knock Off," said Toril.

"Ice Spinner."

Which made these absurdly specific counter matchup builds an even sharper knife to the jugular, what the fuck was Goodra doing with Ice Spinner, turning itself into a top that shredded Rillaboom and sent putrid waves of slush slapping across Grassy Terrain's leaves. The only, only, only possible reason to take Ice Spinner was to clear Grassy Terrain, and the only reason anyone possibly cared about that was if they faced an opponent who dramatically won an earlier battle specifically thanks to Grassy Terrain. By this point Toril should've expected it, should've comprehended Yui's fucked up mindset from the moment Iron Head got called, should've been suspicious about Corviknight and Goodra and the whole fucking fight, should've simply understood the nonsense Sosa spouted, of course! Toril peeled off the glove Sosa forced her to wear on her good hand and plunged her teeth into her fingertips.

Sosa's hands were all over this match, manipulating the strings, making her marionettes dance. Did Yui predict Toril's whole strategy with such specificity on her own? No. Sosa told her. Then Sosa lured Toril into her den, implanted a fungal parasite in her brain, transformed her into a demi-Sosa with the clothes and the makeup—she tore at her coat, some stupid sash kept it on, it shuffled lopsided across her shoulders—and why? For fun? Or to do like Cynthia, like Domino, to absorb someone else's win as her own?

The whole point. The whole point of Pokémon battling was. It was only the trainer and their Pokémon. Nobody else. No human claimed another's victory. Independence. Winning was an individual's validation, proof they deserved to live. To rob that. To rob that was!

Toril, watching Rillaboom drop to a second Ice Spinner—three Pokémon left to Yui's three—needed to focus on actually winning before she worried whose win it was.

When Toril sent Annihilape back out, nothing remained to unnerve him from his berry. He woke, half health and unbulked but staring down a Pokémon that couldn't finish it off even with its most powerful possible move, Draco Meteor.

By the time Toril thought, Wait it might have Dragon Tail, she already called Bulk Up.

"Dragon Tail."

Goodra's shell, rather than its tail, glowed. (IPL move standardization caused weirdness like that.) All Goodra did was whack Annihilape for unimpressive damage, but Dragon Tail had a secondary effect. The shell's glow occurred via the same molecular processes governing the miniaturization that made Poké Ball tech possible. One tap and Annihilape's body believed he was being recalled. He transformed into a beam of light and zipped to his ball.

The holoscreen selected a random Pokémon between Toril's remaining two to replace him. The coinflip sent out Baxcalibur opposite Goodra.

Toril now knew exactly how this match ended.

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Cynthia watched. Right now. Eyes on Yui Matsui.

Vitality flowed through Yui head to toe. This electricity would stop anyone else's heart. Not hers. Nobody else understood. Them in their dark, lonely worlds. Each human its own world, island unto itself. Where thoughts, feelings, experience was known to them and none other. Eight billion worlds parallel and apart.

Only one thing bridged the worlds. Yui had it. Did they? Did Toril? Raj? Even Cely? No.

Love. Of them all, only Yui Matsui fought with love.

"Irie, use Flash Cannon!"

"Glaive Rush!"

Baxcalibur flipped forward. Incredibly, it hovered in midair, its head barely off the ground. Propelled by only a blast of wind, it rammed its spiked spinal fin into Irie. The crowd loved the move, because it looked so silly; Toril hated that they loved it, because Toril hated everyone outside the insular island of herself. Yui only cared that Cynthia watched.

Goodra—Irie—held on. Chunks of her body slopped off. Her shell cracked. Her feet wobbled.

Cynthia watched. Cynthia watched. Cynthia watched.

Cynthia watched as Irie retaliated with a blast of light. Baxcalibur, still inverted, drove headfirst into the ground. The arena fissured under its hard head, which left it embedded to the neck. Its tail, then its body, slumped. Toril returned it, down to only two Pokémon.

Remember, Cynthia? You invited Yui to your sanctuary. You were so tall, so elegant in your kimono, yet you moved casually, as though everything were natural to you. Yui remembered every word you said, verbatim.

"From an archaeological perspective, the Hisuian epoch is one of the most important." You drew the curtain back to show the view of the preserve from your villa, doused in the rising sun. "It was then that humans and Pokémon first began their symbiotic relationship."

Yui mumbled something meaningless.

"Only by understanding the past can we extrapolate the direction of the future. Our past, from then to now, has been one of cooperation, understanding, and love."

"And love..."

"That's how I know, whatever problems we face in this world, people and Pokémon will work together to overcome them."

Annihilape appeared again. Yui would've preferred to see Toril's final Pokémon, but at this point it clearly wasn't Zoroark. Cely was right after all: Tors won't admit it, even to herself. She's too embarrassed to use Zoroark after my match with her.

The last Pokémon was probably Volcarona. Throughout groups, Toril ran Ninetales and Baxcalibur exclusively with Volcarona, to cover typical weaknesses.

That meant this match was over.

In case Toril saw what was coming and tried to outsmart with Bulk Up, Yui called for Dragon Tail. Toril didn't get cute, though. Annihilape finished off Goodra with a Drain Punch that regenerated almost no health.

"Rin."

Mega Tyranitar returned to the field. She had no chance against Annihilape either, but that wasn't her purpose. The sandstorm whipped up again. The arena floor became a vortex. Sand swirled around Rin and Annihilape. Around Yui and Toril. Locking them into this final moment of the fleeting instance their worlds collided.

"Drain Punch," Toril said. Annihilape obeyed. Because of the hit Rin took earlier from Mawile—

Forget Mawile. Cynthia didn't watch that. Forget that part.

It only took one hit. Despite Rin's defenses, the incredible power and effective bonus of Annihilape's punch put her down. This time, Annihilape drained most of its health back.

Cynthia watched Yui send out her final Pokémon.

Rattle of bone. Twitch on the nape of your neck. Soul of dearly departed. You're watching this aren't you? The sandstorm spread his dead dry fur. All was hollow whistle.

Despite its bleak and dismal appearance, Houndstone was a creature like Yui. He fought with love.

He loved his friends, and they were all gone now. He wanted nothing except to avenge them.

"Last Respects."

Sand made him swift. Annihilape was unable to move. The ghastly face of a canine skull magnified to arena size engulfed it. The move's power was amped five times over, once for each of Houndstone's fallen friends.

Annihilape stood no chance. Its eyes remained furious to the bitter end, until it fell back. The sand swept over it. It was buried even before Toril recalled it.

With a 300 power Last Respects and a Choice Band, with his speed doubled in the sandstorm, Houndstone could annihilate any Pokémon Toril manifested. You see, right? You see Yui's love now, don't you? She could never tell you to your face, could not vocalize the words that imbued her inner life, but battling was the language she used, and you used it too, you were here on this stage once yourself.

Toril was waiting to send out her final Pokémon. The timer, a formality at this point, ticked down. She lacked any decision to make, but she waited anyway, staring at Yui.

You see this right? This moment? You'll remember this moment, right? Not the one that comes after. This one alone, the emotions you feel now, they won't be buried in the sand like everything else, right? You'll stand there believing it really is Volcarona that Toril will send out, unaware what Cely said—When she's mad, you can tell. It's when her face is straight she's scary—believing that the match is over, that Yui Matsui is an IPL semifinalist like you once were. Please say you will. Please.

"I'm sorry," Toril said. Her amplified voice entered Yui's platform. "You didn't get a chance to shine this battle. I know you've been waiting to show them what you've got, Rune."

Toril's Poké Ball vanished through the shifting wall of sand and reappeared on the bounce as it popped open. The air distorted, broke apart in an erratic grid of cells.

The glitch appeared. Porygon-Z. Normal type. Immune to ghost.

You'll remember, right?

Yui waited the full thirty seconds allotted her. The silence of the crowd could not be controlled. In the whistling wind, the rattling bone, Yui's world dropped into the abyss.

She tapped her holoscreen twice to confirm the forfeit.