Thanks for all the support on my Patreo-n so far! 3 advanced chapters at /xlucqs.

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  Matt wasn't in the common room when the explosions began. No, he was in his room, training with his Pokemon as he usually was. His office had another name—his gym. It was packed with weights, machines, punching bags, treadmills, and any other equipment that helped progress the body physically. The pursuit of strength was not just a hobby—it was a way of life for him.

  When everything kicked off, it was the end of a training session for him. He and his Pokemon were flexing in the mirror, observing their progress, seeing how their muscles bulged and ballooned with a pump.

  But when Matt heard the explosions, the size and tone of his muscles went to the back of his mind, and he immediately stopped posing and got ready for battle. As a former security guard, he had developed a habit of staying alert and ready to move the moment something went wrong. The explosions didn't freeze him—they made him move faster.

  He ran through the hallways, the fatigue of his workout immediately forgotten. Numerous other members of the team rushed out of their rooms, freezing at the sounds, but as soon as they saw him, they stuck to him like honey. He was an admin after all, he was someone for the members to look up to, to follow when they didn't know the way.

  By the time he arrived, the war had already begun in earnest. Explosions of energy and elements rippled through the air, and the shouts of Pokemon and trainers in such an enclosed space sounded like a thousand birds chirping all at once. The room was already a wreck.

  The TV, where he liked to watch sanctioned league battles, now had a massive gaping hole through its centre. The dartboard was sliced clean in half. The couches and cushions were torn to shreds. The only thing left was the pool table—but that didn't last long. A Mightyena slammed a Golbat into it, splintering it apart.

  Instead of charging into the fray like everyone else, Matt's eyes swept across the chaos. He might not have been the smartest person, but he had spent countless hours studying battles—understanding not just the fights, but the theories and tactics behind them. He always had an instinct for battle. A force this large had to be led by someone.

  If that leader were taken out, it would shake the others. If they were mercenaries fighting for money, they'd keep going, but they would be severely disheartened. But if they were fighting for something bigger—for ideology or loyalty or anything that constituted a following—the death of their leader could collapse everything. If their leader died, the very reason they began this fight in the first place would vanish with that person's last breath.

  It had happened in wars before, and it could happen here, in this small room, with barely enough men to call it an army. But even with the fractioned numbers, the same tactics could still be applied.

  Now, who is that person?

  His eyes darted through the smoke and light, scanning every corner. And then he saw him. A thin man with a tall frame, hands clasped calmly behind his back, observing the battlefield like a general—his posture radiating control and superiority. He wore a crimson red robe and a pure black mask that only deepened his air of menace.

  Matt met the man's face. The eyes had no mask—nor could he see any—but he knew they were looking at each other. Matt wasn't one to feel fear, and he didn't feel it, but instead a strange sense of unease, knowing this man was leading the attack.

  If Poseidon were here, he would be the one to take care of this. He was unsure of Admin Ashe's capabilities, and that meant he couldn't rely on them. So that left him. So be it.

  He started moving toward him.

  "!"

  A shadow flashed in front of him, massive and fast. Matt barely managed to cross his arms before a heavy blow struck, sending him skidding back several meters. He braced himself, lowering his arms with a grunt. He half expected a Pokemon to be there, but instead found himself face-to-face with a large man, tall and wide, fat and muscular, arm and fist still extended.

  "How about you pick on someone your own size?" the giant rumbled. His voice was higher-pitched than expected, but it didn't do anything to remove the challenge from Matt's eyes. His arm pulsated with light stinging in set intervals, like a heartbeat.

  Both of them were roughly the same height—which was strange, as Matt was close to 7 feet, abnormally tall for a human, taller than many Pokemon.

  "You're not worthy of fighting our boss," He looked up towards that man. "He carries the vision that will save this world. He will lead Team Magma to greatness…"

  Team Magma. Matt had heard of the team from Poseidon. He said it was no big deal—that he would handle it. Looks like they had the same idea with Team Aqua.

  "The vision? And what's that?" Matt asked, prying for more information.

  The large man chuckled. "Right now, it's destroying you."

  "Tyson!" Matt called. Poliwrath!

  "Kaiju!" the large man across responded. Nidoking! Matt recognised the Pokemon from across the seas.

  Simultaneously, both of them threw their pokeballs, sending out their partners. Poliwrath was his partner, a companion who had been with him since the beginning, a perfect reflection of Matt's love for fighting and the water. Poliwrath was simply an extension of Matt himself.

  His Poliwrath was taller than compared to normal standards—exercise and diet from a young age contributed to its steady growth, not only in height, but its frame. It was wide, with a heavy, dense bone structure which helped hold up the mass of muscle on his frame. And it had a lot of muscle. Just like Matt, they performed physical exercise almost daily—aside from rest days—leading to a thick build of lean muscle mass.

  He scarcely paid attention to the Nidoking in front of him. It was bigger than Poliwrath due to its natural differences, but he wasn't deterred. Not in the slightest. Poliwrath had taken down Pokemon five times its size.

  Nidoking surged forward. Poliwrath replicated the movement. Fists collided. BOOM! The impact rippled through the room, wind and energy scattering and escaping from the point of impact. A stalemate.

  Matt took a singular moment to stare at his adversary across from him. Their eyes locked, burning ambition and challenge. Matt promised himself that he would defeat this clown, then move on to the boss. If Poseidon wasn't here to save Team Aqua, then he would.

  The war began with immediate haste. The sound of pokeballs being thrown, followed by hundreds of cries and a dozen abilities activated, crashed against her ears like chalk on a whiteboard. It was an overwhelming roar, echoing through the room.

  She had sent out Spots—thankfully—because in the very next moment, Azumarill grabbed Shelly and leapt into the air, just as a plume of thick lava melted through the spot where she had been standing.

  She was used to one-on-one Pokemon battles with hundreds of spectators, not hundreds of one-on-one battles. Spots stayed close, shielding her as attacks flew wildly across the room. A jet of water burst from Azumarill's mouth, intercepting a beam of fire that would've incinerated her.

  Shelly steadied herself, taking a deep breath. One of the red-costumed grunts rushed toward her, a Slugma at his side and ready for battle.

  "Play Rough!" Shelly commanded. Spots leapt forward, slamming into the fiery slug. It dropped instantly.

  "Follow up!" Shelly shouted. Spots lunged again, knocking the trainer out cold. The environment was chaotic, but the rush of battle made her forget everything else. Her instincts had taken over. But along with letting parts of her instinct flourish, she needed to let other parts shrink to the back of her mind—their biggest one, for example, was her Pokemon names.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  William had already told her of this. She was a public figure who had been on National TV for the entire region to watch. They knew her Pokemon, and they knew what she called her Pokemon. She couldn't just not use her Pokemon—especially in a situation like this—but to prevent people from catching on, she must absolutely not refer to her Pokemon by name.

  "Unless you're planning on killing your opponent," William had said to her. But in this situation, it was impossible to take care of everyone and anyone who may have heard her say her Pokemon's name. So she would abstain entirely in this scenario.

  The next opponent was small and thin, wearing a red mask that matched her uniform. And though Shelly didn't like making assumptions, the girl's petite frame and the feminine cut of her outfit made her fairly certain of her gender.

  "The way your Azumarill moved—very aggressive, very strong—I'm guessing it must have huge power instead of thick fat." She said. She spoke like a woman who was used to speaking quietly, rarely raising her voice. She seemed to struggle to say the sentence at a sound Shelly could hear.

  Correct, Shelly thought. Must be a smart and calculating woman. The complete opposite of Proton. This may be a challenging battle.

  She stood calm—eerily calm—as the two of them locked eyes in a silent staring contest. Neither wanted to be the first to flinch.

  And then—

  "Rapidash!" the woman called, throwing her pokeball. A piercing cry echoed through the room as a brilliant burning stallion burst forth, flames trailing from its mane, tail, and legs in steady, powerful streams that lit up the room.

  It snorted, stomping the ground with one flaming hoof.

  "Your battle is with me," the woman said coldly.

  Shelly sighed inwardly. Being underground, setting up the rain was impossible. Oh well…

  Shelly steadied herself for another battle, but before she could even blink, a blaze of fire from across the battlefield shot towards them—however, it wasn't for her.

  It hit the Rapidash, engulfing the Pokemon in flames with even more flames. She tilted her head—was she attacked by a member of her own team? Compared to the team dressed in red sending out fire—and ground—Pokemon, Team Aqua didn't have any form of fire types, and the number of Pokemon that knew fire-type moves was scarce. The logical conclusion was that it had to be a member of her own team.

  And it was. But it wasn't a mistake. Instead of flinching and recoiling from the attack, the Rapidash seemed to revel in it, taking the fire attack as if it were tangible energy she could consume and absorb into her skin. The flames around its body flickered, growing thicker, denser—turning from flailing tendrils dancing in the air into streams with purpose, not being moved by the air, but with it.

  It was then she figured it out. The years of cramming information from Trainer School came back to her in a flash.

  Flash Fire. The Pokemon was immune to fire-type attacks—if it was hit by a fire-type attack, it would raise its fire-type move damage by 50%.

  "Fireflight, use Flame Charge!" the woman across from her called. The Rapidash responded, the flames around her expanding and wrapping around her like a shield as its hooves clattered against the ground, rushing towards Spots.

  "Dodge it!" Shelly called. Spots flew upwards, using the power of its small feet along with its circular tail as a springboard to jump upwards. Directly above her, a half-shattered chandelier swung violently in the air. Spots wrapped its tail around one of its shining glass branches.

  "Now, throw it!"

  Using its monstrous strength, Spots ripped the chandelier from its roots on the ceiling with its tail.

  With nothing left to hold her, Spots began to free-fall with the chandelier trapped in her tail. She waited a moment, gathering momentum from gravity as she spun through the air.

  SWOOSH!

  The chandelier swung downward in a straight line.

  "Flamethrower!" the girl shouted.

  Rapidash nodded, opening its mouth and unleashing a stream of fire toward the falling chandelier. The attacks collided midair—glass melted into sand from the heat, and the air expanded before exploding outward from the force.

  "Aqua Ring!" Shelly said. A faint shimmering hoop of blue formed around Spots, textured like wavy water constantly shifting between different shades of blue, unable to decide which shade of blue to stay on.

  "Agility!" the girl called to her Rapidash.

  "Block it! Hydro Pump!" Shelly commanded. Spots was still in the air. The powerful beam of water shot forward at a 45-degree angle, rushing toward the flaming stallion—but Rapidash, moving with blistering speed, jumped forward, moving out of the way at the last moment.

  "Fireflight, charge forward, Megahorn!"

  As though it were bred for war—to charge without fear—Rapidash rushed forward, snorting fire. With Agility fueling its flame-filled legs, it moved much faster than expected.

  Shelly barely managed to call out, "Protect!" before Rapidash was upon them.

  The horn, sharpened and spinning with energy, carrying miles of momentum, smashed against the Protect.

  Crack…Crack…Crack…Shatter!

  Spots recoiled, letting out a cry of pain. The horn stabbed deep into the skin, mixing red with blue and white. Rapidash continued to advance, with Spots caught up in its horn, moving as if completely unbothered.

  It was trying to pin Spots against the wall. "Spots, Hydro Pump!"

  At point-blank range, there was no way to dodge. The momentum was immediately halted, water mixing with fire, causing steam to hiss through the air. Both Rapidash and Azumarill recoiled from their opponent's attack.

  Spots panted, clutching the part of her body where the horn hit. A blue ring spun around her body, and it slightly lessened the severity of the wound, although it was still open.

  Horn is bad, got it.

  At the rate she was going, Spots was going to lose. Her opponent was smart and quick on her feet, just like her Pokemon. She needed to think of something. C'mon, Shelly, think! William didn't pick you up and make you an admin just because you were strong—it was because you were smart. She knacked her brain, searching for a solution.

  And then it hit her.

  The Rapidash was fast, sure, but its speed only worked in one direction: forward. That was how it had dodged the earlier attack; instead of sidestepping, it had charged straight ahead. A creature built like that couldn't turn easily—it would need to slowly tilt its entire body. And better yet, the two parts of its body predominantly used for fighting—its mouth and its horn—were only effective when facing forward.

  It was a Pokemon that could give you trouble, but only if you were directly in front of it. From the side, it would have to waste precious seconds realigning itself and moving like a newborn baby.

  That's how she could defeat it.

  "Poison Jab!" the girl across from her shouted. "Finish it!" Its horn turned purple, radiating a toxic aura. Rapidash ran forwards—but this time Shelly was prepared.

  "Double Team!" Shelly commanded. Multiple Azumarill's appeared like clones all around, shaking and vibrating and shimmering with energy. Rapidash faltered—unsure of which one was real. The true Spots was actually behind it.

  "Now! Aqua Jet!"

  "Watch out!"

  The Rapidash was powerless. Unable to properly adjust its body, it could do nothing but brace as Spots slammed into it from behind.

  "Flare Blitz Fireflight!"

  Intense, burning heat erupted from Rapidash all around as a protective measure, but Spots had already retreated. The flames burned brightly with tenacity—but just like with stars, the flames that burn the brightest go out the quickest. And it went out quickly.

  Just as the Flare Blitz dispersed, Rapidash had managed to climb its way onto its hooves. However, just as it did—

  BAM!

  A spinning ball of blue and white smashed into it, sending it reeling back down. Rollout! Spots hard turned into a spinning ball, moving at all different arcs and angles. Rapidash couldn't survive the onslaught.

  1 hit! 2 hit!

  It didn't survive the third.

  The girl across from her withdrew her Pokemon with silent fury. She could sense the woman's gaze through her mask, promising redemption and retribution. She made to send out her second Pokemon.

  But just then—

  "That's enough." A voice called. The woman stiffened, hands stuck on her pokeball almost as if she was stuck in a stasis.

  "I've seen enough. You've done well."

  He strode forward slowly, each movement deliberate, calm, as though the chaos of the battlefield were completely irrelevant to him—like he had lived through it a million times before. The man was tall, dressed similarly to the rest of the intruders, but with far more class—an air of importance that demanded attention.

  His mask was pure black, though Shelly could tell it was finely crafted. His outfit and robes were a deep crimson, richer in colour than the uniforms of the others. They flowed past his knees, moving elegantly with each step, almost regal in appearance. On the centre of his chest was a red and black M—their emblem, perhaps. His shoes were so polished that for a brief moment, she could see the reflection of the fights going on around them.

  This was the leader. She could tell.

  "Let me deal with her," the woman pleaded, looking up at the tall man.

  He surveyed the battlefield with cold detachment. Bodies—both human and Pokemon—had already begun to pile up, red and blue scattered across the floor. The sight twisted her stomach. These were people she worked with, fought alongside, maybe even laughed with once—maybe would share a laugh in the future. And now they were dying—for what felt like nothing. He continued looking, unbothered, eyes searching the battlefield, though whatever it was he was looking for he couldn't find.

  "Where is Poseidon?" the man asked her. "I was hoping to catch them here. I've been wanting to meet them for a while."

  "I'm Poseidon," Shelly responded in the most confident voice she could muster. Her posture straightened, eyes flaring defiantly.

  "Lie. For starters, I know Poseidon is male." He looked her up and down, taking in her whole form. It was a look completely devoid of lust, entirely analytical, and it made her uncomfortable more than any other lecherous gaze she had ever received. "I was told by my informant that Poseidon accepted a new admin," he said evenly. "You must be them. It's nice to meet you…"

  Informant?

  "Call me Ashe," Shelly replied cautiously.

  He nodded. "Truth."

  So he already knew? Did his so-called informant send him this information?

  "And you are?"

  "I go by Hades," the man said. "And before you ask, yes, we had an informant. However, they cut communications a while back. Don't stress yourself with it."

  Shelly tried to search as best she could for any deception. She couldn't find any. He didn't seem like that kind of man. "Truth," she said. "But why tell me?"

  Hades looked at her, tilting his head. "Why? Because it won't matter. Soon enough, each and every person in this room wearing the blue emblem of Team Aqua will be dead, Poseidon or no Poseidon. After I kill all of you, I will find Poseidon myself and end the scourge that is Team Aqua."

  Truth, Shelly thought grimly. At least in his mind, he thinks it so. And a man who is so sure and so convinced in killing Team Aqua and Poseidon cannot be weak. The girl wasn't weak, and he commanded her, she analysed.

  Hades hand shot towards his pokeball, and Shelly prepared for what she hoped was not her final battle. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered where Poseidon was.