The arena was silent.
Wind whipped through the open vents high above, and the water below shimmered from the raw pressure hanging in the air. On one side stood Starmie, spinning slowly, its gem pulsing like a heart. Across from it, Charmeleon, claws clenched, flame-tail flaring with anticipation.
Both had seen fierce battles before.
But never like this.
Above them, the lights dimmed, drawing all focus to the center platform.
And in the shadows behind the glass, Bryce Waterflower leaned forward for the first time.
—"This is the clash I came to witness."
Misty's voice rang across the arena.
—"Starmie, start with Rapid Spin! Take the tempo!"
Starmie spun sharply and launched forward in a tight spiral, cutting through the air like a star-shaped blade.
Skylar didn't flinch.
—"Charmeleon, meet it with Flamethrower! Curve the blast!"
Charmeleon unleashed a stream of white-hot flame, but he twisted at the last second, guiding the fire in a crescent arc.
The attack didn't strike directly—but it changed the air pressure.
The heatwave lifted Starmie off-course, forcing it to bounce off a platform instead of hitting Charmeleon cleanly.
It hit the water with a splash, spinning back into position.
Misty's eyes narrowed.
Skylar smirked.
—"I've studied water types too, you know."
She didn't respond—only raised a hand.
—"Psybeam, right flank!"
The beam shot wide—intentionally.
Charmeleon dodged—
And that's when the second Psybeam, launched from Starmie's mid-spin, hit from below.
Direct hit.
Charmeleon skidded across the stone, coughing from the psychic blow.
Skylar clenched his fists. "She's layering attacks. Smart."
But Charmeleon rose, growling, flames licking the edges of his mouth.
His tail roared to life.
—"Metal Claw, close the distance!"
Charmeleon darted forward, claws glowing silver.
Starmie was already spinning again—ready.
They clashed at the center.
Metal struck psychic energy. Steam hissed from the stone. The force of the impact sent water geysering into the air.
And then—
—"Water Gun! Point blank!"
The blast slammed into Charmeleon's chest, sending him flying.
He hit the arena wall, hard.
Skylar gritted his teeth.
Charmeleon wasn't done. Not yet.
He pushed off the wall and landed hard on one knee.
Breathing fast.
Eyes sharp.
Misty watched carefully, wiping sweat from her brow.
—"Starmie, Recover!"
Starmie's gem pulsed—and the cracks in its crystal smoothed. It floated higher, spinning tighter.
Skylar growled. "She's not going to give me a clean opening…"
—"Charmeleon, fire straight up! Smokescreen!"
Charmeleon released a burst of thick black smoke into the ceiling dome.
The crowd murmured.
Misty's eyes darted up. "You're hiding?"
Skylar shook his head.
—"I'm trapping the light."
The smoke climbed high—reaching the skylight—and then began to settle.
The arena dimmed.
The reflective glass no longer gave Starmie free vision.
—"Now, Flamethrower! Through the smoke—random arcs!"
Charmeleon unleashed bursts of flame blindly across the field. The light cut through the fog like spotlights—each attack unpredictable.
Starmie spun left—
But the third shot landed.
Hit the edge of its limb and sent it spiraling.
Misty didn't wait.
—"Hydro Pump!"
The attack blasted through the fog like a cannon—and Charmeleon took it head-on.
He was thrown off his feet and smashed into a boulder on the far side.
Water flooded the stone around him, sizzling from the heat of his tail.
He didn't move.
Skylar opened his mouth—
But the boulder cracked.
The glow of a flame shined through.
Charmeleon rose, steam rising from his body, scales charred, but eyes burning with fury.
And then—
His tail glowed white.
Skylar blinked. "He's going into Overheat mode—"
Charmeleon let out a primal roar.
Skylar raised his voice.
—"Last move! Flame Burst! All power—center mass!"
Charmeleon dashed forward, claws sparking. Fire surged from his mouth and tail. He leapt from the platform, roaring—
Starmie began to charge a final Psybeam—
But too late.
The Flame Burst exploded on impact, engulfing both Pokémon in searing light.
The platform cracked.
Steam poured out in every direction.
Silence.
And then—
Both Pokémon lay still.
Their trainers stepped forward, eyes locked.
No one moved.
The referee system scanned the field.
"Starmie is unable to battle…"
A pause.
"Charmeleon is unable to battle…"
Double knockout.
The gym erupted into murmurs.
Misty took a deep breath, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Skylar grinned, sweat pouring down his brow.
—"You never make it easy."
Misty smiled. "Why would I?"
They recalled their Pokémon at the same time.
Above them, in the shadows, Bryce nodded once.
—"That… was a real match."
The platforms realigned.
The final round began.
Misty pulled out her last Poké Ball—navy blue, etched in silver.
—"You've faced fire and fury…"
"Now face grace."
She tossed it high.
"Milotic, the field is yours."
Light rippled over the water as Milotic burst into form—coiling beautifully across the arena, scales shimmering like pearls. Her presence was serene—but behind her calm gaze, raw power churned like an ocean storm.
Skylar inhaled slowly.
He looked at his last Poké Ball.
Held it tightly.
—"Then it's time…"
He opened it with care.
"Gardevoir, let's finish this together."
A gentle glow lit the field.
Gardevoir landed gracefully on a stone platform, her eyes already locked on Milotic with quiet understanding.
The final battle had begun.