His name was Kala, and it was a foreign name for a local individual. He had a rather fair skin tone, and a simple appearance that showed no outstanding qualities. Yet his role was quite important indeed, for he was the first checkpoint guardian of many that the trainers would inevitably have to face upon their journey. His job was simple yet important, and would shortly be explained in earnest. 
Kala checked the list one final time. Forty thousand, nine hundred and nine in total. This was not entirely unexpected, but the numbers were still far in excess of the amount of foreigners that one ever expected upon Baranga, and he worried that they may outnumber the inhabitants of Baranga one day if they continue to host this contest. Nevertheless, he would perform his job admirably, for by the end of the week, there would be a fair chunk of this lot gone. 

He watched as they all poured in like a ravenous horde, all with their Pokemon in tow, prized to them as dearly as one would prize gold. Some saw them as friends, others as handy tools of convenience. This would be a test for all of Baranga to the rest of the world, to see who among these so called “trainers” was truly a Pokemon Master. 
Standing upon his podium, he tapped the microphone a few times to test its accuracy, and the trainers and their Pokemon stood at attention. Some still smiled, smugly or nervously. Others stood at attention seriously. All ages were present, from young to old. 
Eventually, the flow stopped, and he assumed that everyone who would come had already come. It was doubtful anyone would go to all the trouble of coming here simply to be late. 

“May I have your attention please?” he spoke. It felt strange, feeling the eyes of a number that exceeded his own town all turning to him. Fifty thousand, all gathered in one place. By the halfway point, it would be likely closer to a third of that. Many would give up or fail, succumbing to tire and ills.
A few, perhaps if they were truly unprepared, might die. That was a risk they had all signed up for, and Kala somehow had a suspicion of an attitude not fully comprehending the risk in many. The idea of “It’ll never be me” simply was not a safe one. “First of all, I would like to congratulate everyone who had the courage to bravely come to this faraway land to show the nation of Baranga just how strong they truly are.”
This elicited a deafening cheer from many, smirks or claps from some, and a scant minority just displayed silence. “Now I assume, and if not, I would like to remind you to do so, that you have all signed the forms of accountability in the event of anything happening.”
A few chuckles, as expected.
“I assure you this is a very serious implication. This is not like any league you have ever competed in before, and the danger is very much real. Now then, I’m going to go over the rules and then we’ll break for luncheon before the first trial starts at evening today.” He cleared his throat, and laid out a sheet upon the table.

“The first rule, as you are all no doubt aware, is that you may not bring an evolved Pokemon to the Baranga run. Now I see a few of you have brought single-evolution Pokemon…”
His gaze specifically drew to the trio of legendary birds plastered near the front. They were curiously obedient for such mythical creatures, a fact which made Kala ponder bad thoughts. “This is acceptable, although we do consider it a bit of a low blow to other trainers in some cases.”
Sheila, the one riding the Zapdos, visibly frowned at this remark. Kala did not care, for it was a cheap loophole exploit and she knew it. “The second, of course, is that you may bring only one Pokemon, of which you were all searched upon arrival. Thus, nobody who broke this rule is still upon this island.” 
In the far back of the crowd, Percy made a concerted effort to hide a bit more among the foliage. It felt like that comment was directed at her specifically. “We won’t abide by cheaters” Kala added. He looked around, and then continued. “The third rule is that we will not be allowing usage of Pokeballs. All Pokemon on your team must be outside at all times, unless an exception is otherwise given prior to starting the area.”
At this a great cry of surprise and protest came up from the group, which took several seconds to quiet down. “I must remind you friends that this competition is also a test of one’s relationship and skills to forming bonds with Pokemon. We don’t consider such devices as noteworthy or representative of Baranga as a whole… with a few exceptions being made to certain Water Pokemon that cannot survive outside of it. Please hand over all Pokeballs you may have on you to your proctor when the contest starts, save for any exceptions that will be allotted for said Water Pokemon.”
Many of the people who had arrived were now looking quite annoyed at this development. It simply made Kala chuckle at how quickly they faltered when deprived of their handy devices. “Your Pokedex will also be replaced by a guidebook instead, of which you will not receive a replacement if lost. All Pokedex shall be returned at the end of the competition.” More grumbling as to be expected. “During this competition you will be expected to forage and survive on your own. This guidebook will provide to you advice on how to do so. What is safe to eat, where it is safe to drink, how to build shelter, so on and so forth. Treasure it well. We will also give you an emergency flare that you can use to signal for help. If you use this flare, a team of expert flyers will come in to rescue you. Of course, if you use this, you fail. Don’t value your life above a competition please. Drop out if you have to.”

“The next bit of rules will have to do with means of elimination. As you have read, this circuit is split into eighteen sections. At the end of each section, the slowest eighteenth of the remaining group shall be eliminated. You will also be eliminated if you take more than the allotted time per area to finish a section. Likewise, we will also evaluate the physical and mental condition of your Pokemon at the end of each section. If we judge that your Pokemon are unhealthy or seem to have been treated improperly, you fail. Also, and I know it goes without saying, but if you perish then you fail as well. If your Pokemon perish or fail to appear in-between sections as a result of disappearance or otherwise, it will also count as a failure.”
There were no chuckles this time. Satisfied that he had made an impact, he continued with the final portion of his speech. “I would like to add that we allow for one ‘freebie’ in regard to this rule. We give you one chance to improve the health of your Pokemon in between sections, or perhaps ignore an unfortunate crippling injury/accident, but after that you will not receive a second chance. We understand that accidents can happen to even the most careful of trainers. “
“Lastly, at the end of every other section of the course will be various Pokemon experts who will test your skill. In order to progress you must best their challenges, be it a battle or otherwise. Although losing does not ensure defeat, you will not be able to retry and must find another one to challenge. I would advise not losing too much, as Pokemon Centers as you know them do not exist here.”
There were even more murmurs at that, some of a quite darker tone. Those who had been here long had already figured that out a while ago. Baranga used more primitive medicines. Effective, but slow and not as efficient as those in more civilized areas. Injuries in battle were far more serious as they could not simply be removed via technology. “As a final note, if you make it to the very last section, we expect you to have a full team of six Pokemon. Of course, I don’t expect anybody to fail in this regard, you all seem quite good at capturing Pokemon.”
“As for battling, the rules are very simple. A winner will take half the loser’s current amount of money. We also have shops set up at each checkpoint to restock upon supplies such as food and medicine to make the journey easier. However, it must be noted it is entirely possible to complete the Run without engaging in a single battle whatsoever.”

He reached below his podium and unfurled a small map. “Each of you will be given one copy of this, it is a map of the next section, so do not lose it. Each subsequent area will have a similar map provided. Now then… I’m going to discuss the next area as I am its guide and it would be remiss of me not to do so.”
He stepped down from the podium, and only now with most of his body in full view could one see the parade of Oddish following behind him like doting children. He gave a few some affectionate pats as he walked down the steps. “Ahead of you is the Agnama Forest. It is home to an immense variety of Pokemon for you to add to your roster. It is one of the most hospitable places in the course, so we don’t expect any environmental hazards to be a serious factor. Be warned however, that we are still in the middle of the rainy season. Keep warm from hypothermia if possible, and check your guidebook for what plants are inedible.” He paused and placed a hand on his chin. “Some parts of the Agnama also contain dangerous Pokemon. It is up to you to defend yourself as well as your own Pokemon. Step cautiously, this forest has dark secrets. The expected time to finish is between six to eight days.” 
The Oddish chittered and chattered behind him, repeating his words in their own language few in the crowd could even hear, and those that could were loath to share it. 
“Because of the unexpected size, we will sort everyone into four hundred different groups. When you leave, please take a card for your group who you will report to after you are done eating. For now, please enjoy your meals!” He finished this off with a jolly laugh, though he noticed many were not laughing.
“Oh, and if you want to drop out, we have boats which will take you back free of charge provided you sign the paperwork.” At this, many trainers did in fact hurry back and out of the proceedings, leaving the remaining to ramble about as they plotted their next course of action. Amidst the group, Toby stood there, frame twitching, as his Growlithe nervously prodded him.
“Hey… This sounds way more serious than what we wanted. Should we go home?” it said nervously. They had trained for two months for this, and yet, when faced with a lethal risk, the temptation to back down was all but irresistible. 
He was only thirteen dammit! He still had a good handful of decades under his belt, at minimum!
Toby gritted his teeth. “No. We aren’t gonna give up! What kind of loser gives up just because something looks dangerous?”
Growlithe smothered any comment to say on that. “Well… Can we at least eat first?” he asked. 
“Oh yeah you’re right… Let’s do that first!”
So they did, and their confidence gradually came back to the front as they forgot their worries in a sea of edibles. 
The food court presented to the trainers was of immense sense and even more immense portions. It was meant for fifty thousand people and their Pokemon, so to call it a feast was perhaps an understatement. As Sybil walked in, she had to dodge a Tyrunt and a Larvitar fighting over a porkchop whilst their trainers tried in vain to call them off. She scanned the horizons. “My my… I don’t think we’ve ever been in such a crowded room before” said Carnivine. He coiled around her like a backpack, his flat head resting atop hers as beady eyes looked about curiously. “Now… is that a plate of stuffed turkey I see?” Carnivine drooled. Sybil wiped it, not allowing it to garnish her shirt. “Eat lightly, the first twenty-four hours will be one of the most difficult parts of the competition. It wouldn’t do good for us to be ambushed in the midst of a food coma.”
“Ah… that is very wise” Carnivine replied in awe. “Of course, my mistress Sybil, you are correct as always.” 
Sybil likened herself to a professional trainer. She had experience in seven different leagues, though unfortunately had not won any of them. She had come close each time however, and hoped to win this one as well. It was difficult to ascertain her age, though one could guess she was on the very edge of young and not quite so young anymore. Exuding an aura of seriousness, she strolled about the room, sampling glances at any who seemed to appear strong. 
There was a certain aspect to risking a confrontation with one of them so early in the competition. Eliminating their supply of cash could severely hinder their ability to function in this run. Some people had no survival skills, they needed aspects of modern life to function. Even she, as much as she hated to admit it, was not the greatest in terms of outdoor work compared to some other trainers. Likely this would change over the coming weeks. Likewise, the consequences of a lost Pokemon battle could severely cripple an enemy’s movement, or get them eliminated if their Pokemon came out in rough enough shape. Sybil suspected already that some people were planning strategies to wound or dispose of others. Cruel and amoral, yet effective. 

“You know, in my experience it’s the quiet ones who are the most dangerous.” Sybil turned her head to the right and caught side of Abraham, smugly standing by a wall. His Flabebe hovered besides him, giggling at the two. Carnivine narrowed his eyes but said nothing. “Do you need something or are you trying to flatter me to get something? Which is it?”
Abraham paused and winced, breathing in quite sharply. Such an acidic tongue was not unexpected, but he was still unused to it. Women usually just gave him whatever he needed after a bit of conversation. “Come now. We’ve only just met and I’m trying to be friendly. I hope that’s not how you treat everyone.”
“Everyone has a reason for what they do. If you aren’t going to speak, I’m going to leave.” 
Abraham’s smile faltered. Scratch acidic, this was thermonuclear. “Of all the people I have seen walk through this room, you seem the most confident. Therefore, mi amore, I would humbly request that I- “
“Form an alliance? Why?” Sybil said suddenly. Abraham sputtered and choked on his words. She was guessing everything he was going to say like some sort of witch. Perhaps this was a bad choice. A glance at his Flabebe, who had become a fair bit anxious, told him that she felt rather the same. “I- What I mean to say is that you seem strong, and I am strong. We’re both tactical, and we can use each other’s help. So, what say you to working together?”
Sybil stared him down. “He looks like a poser” Carnivine commented. Abraham frowned. “I feel the need to tell you that I heard that.” Carnivine blinked in surprise, as did Sybil. “Yes, I know, quite shocking. But take it as evidence that I am a useful asset to- “
“I also can talk to Pokemon” said Sybil, strangely nonplussed by the whole exchange. The conversation grew quiet as all four members of the group stared awkwardly. “Perhaps… there is some merit to this alliance after all.” Sybil extended a hand, and received a slightly cautious shake in response. “Let us find each other after the competition begins. I’m at Gate Seventy-Nine.”
“Ninety for me. It seems we are not that far apart.” They nodded at each other. “You know… I had heard before arriving that all people of Baranga can hear the voices of Pokemon. Yet I had never heard of someone else having such a gift until… well… I met you, mi amore.” 
“I had done prior research. It is very rare, but not unheard of. Perhaps in as little as one in a million are fortunate enough to possess this gift. Fate is strange, it seems.”

Abraham smiled. “Fate? My dear, there is no such thing as fate. We all are individuals who make our own destiny mi amore” he said, and wagged a finger as if correcting a student. “Everyone is a self-made man you see” his Flabebe added in support of her master. “Master said to me that those who rely solely on luck and coincidence are as witless as a tree. You need skill and charm to survive in this world.” It was a confident statement, and one that Sybil found herself slightly at odds with. Charm? What does charm have to do with anything? 
“You are a smart woman mi amore, and we all know that those who are smart can get what they want with just a few words~” The smug smile Abraham put on made Sybil frown even harder. “Perhaps you are saying too much for your own good. Now then, we have an agreement and we shall stick to it. Locate me in the forest of your own volition if you wish. Otherwise, our business is concluded.” With a curt nod, she walked off, her Carnivine glaring at the two for some time before she finally vanished into the crowd. Abraham whistled. “My, that girl, she is intense.”
“What was that you said? Wise words woo?” Flabebe joked. Abraham rolled her eyes. “She is a fair bit spicier than I thought, like a firecracker perhaps. Yes… she will be a formidable challenge.”
Flabebe did not seem as confident as her trainer, however. “She seemed confident. Perhaps we should find an easier target?”
Abraham shot his minute Pokemon an unbelieving look. “Come now, has any woman ever gotten the drop on me before? This will simply take time. All ice melts after all.” He put a hand to a chin and thought. Yes, that was a good saying. He would remember that for later. 

Abraham sidled off and delicately plucked an éclair from the stand. The lemon filling was of particularly high quality, and it made his tongue quiver in happiness. He allowed his Flabebe a nibble, and the sweetness nearly overpowered her small form completely. Across the table, a bloated Pichu gorged itself on poffins as its owner looked exceptionally bored and annoyed. “Ugh, this is going to ruin my dress…” she whined. Next to her were two figures, a very feudal looking armored man, and a ditzy looking girl who was coddling a rather sick looking Corsola. Atop the shoulders of the man, a Lileep stared pitifully at the Corsola, who itself looked to be in utter misery. 
Kajiro’s current concern was not food, but rather the sheer volume of luggage Hailey wanted. Simply put, it was more fit for a cargo train, and was currently sitting in her hotel room under the surveillance of a dozen overpaid guards. “Miss Hailey, I have some concerns that I wish to speak to you about” he said in as respectful of a tone as possible. Lileep turned her eyes away from the poor Corsola and towards Pichu, which made her mouth water. “Nice and plump…” she mumbled to herself. Perhaps a nibble later on when nobody was watching? Kajiro noticed this, and shook his head disapprovingly, resulting in Lileep nodding sadly. He already would have a tough time turning these two silly girls into admirable trainers, he didn’t need their Pokemon eating each other as well. “What is it? Make it quick, I’m in the middle of something very important” said Hailey, whilst fumbling around on her phone. Ignoring the rudeness of the ungrateful child, he said “Your luggage miss. It is far too heavy and cumbersome. The three of us will not be able to- “
“Don’t worry about that. My servants will carry that for us.”
“I see. Of course.” Kajiro sighed in defeat. They would become a massive target then for any people who potentially wished to do them harm or battle them. Rules in a competition such as this didn’t give much restriction to battling, so anything would go in Baranga. He looked to Diana, whose Corsola looking on the verge of passing out, and squirmed in her grasp. Even after three weeks the Corsola still detested her. On the other end of the stick, Hailey’s Pichu was perhaps the largest example of that Pokemon he had ever seen. The amount of mileage those legs had travelled in total in its whole life was likely less than a singular. The whole team’s relationship was screwy, and Diana seemed more interested in hugging everything than battling. 
Truly this would be Kajiro’s greatest trial. 

In a distant corner, Sam stared longingly at the buffet table filled with his favorite foods. Yet for some reason, the thought of consuming them made him feel quite ill, like he was weak for indulging. He was a bit on the pasty side, though a bit short of tubby. Roggenrola stood by his side, vigilant and comforting. “Relax. You’ve already beaten a bunch of them. Must be at least a quarter who’ve left for the docks…”
It was true. Right after the speech, a hefty chunk of those present had headed for the docks like their life depended on it. Perhaps it did, if they truly were not confident in their skills. “I guess. Though honestly, I’m having doubts. Should I be on those boats?”
“Absolutely not!” said Roggenrola, jumping up and down. “You can’t quit before it’s even begun!”
“I mean, I can but…”
“Uh-uh! No way! I’ll drag you to the finish line myself if I have to!” Roggenrola cheered. Sam had to smile at the little rock Pokemon’s bombastic attitude. Sam tapped his foot as he thought. “So… think strategically you said? What’s a good Grass Pokemon?”
Roggenrola stopped bouncing. “Uh…” Sam then remembered that, out of all of his parent’s Pokemon, only Roggenrola had no experience battling before. It had watched battles on TV, but Sam feared when it came to actual expertise he had little to go off of.
“Well, Grass-types have a lot of weaknesses, but there are certainly a few competitively viable ones” a lighter and more nasally voice said. Sam turned to the side, and a fairly doughy individual with a Porygon stood beside him, and leaned on the wall as if in imitation of a cheesy movie. Sam raised an eyebrow. “You seem like a bit of a pleb my friend” Xavier said cockily. 
Sam furrowed his nose. “Pleb? Why you startin’ shit?” Roggenrola quickly chided in a scolding “Language, Sam!” 
Xavier did an obnoxious yet half-hearted laugh. “You see friend, we have a proposition for you.” 
At the word of ‘we’, two more figures appeared. One seemed to exude thuggish-ness and bad teeth. The other looked like a nervous wreck, and had a Munna metaphorically superglued to its head. He looked to be shivering as if supremely cold, and his posture was so low as to avoid eye contact entirely. “Dis is the guy you picked out? ‘E looks kinda like a weenie you know what I’m sayin’?” said Vinny. Oliver said nothing, but continued to sweat. The Pancham following him, quipped in a similar speech pattern “Betcha he won’t last a few minutes out dere.”

Sam had to process what was happening, long enough for both Xavier and Vinny to put their hands around him. “What is this about and am I going to get maimed?”
“Only if you don’t listen to us, capiche?” his Pancham threatened. Roggenrola assumed a protective stance over Sam. “You’re about to make a big mistake buster!”
Xavier’s Porygon came up from behind and gave Roggenrola a nudge, tipping it over as Pancham put a foot over it and laughed. “Hey!” Sam protested, only to have his hand gripped by Vinny. “It’s a dangerous world out there you know? Stick with us, and you’ll be safe. All ye’ gotta do is listen to what I say?”
“Cause’ you might have a little accident you know?” his Pancham said, as he pressed his foot harder on Roggenrola. “Cheeky little…” she grunted. Sam looked about, for any potential help. A few other trainers had taken notice, and were avoiding it or simply staring. Oliver kept quiet, and was visibly shaking. “Should have got on the boat” Sam said to himself.
With a cackle and a slap on the back, Vinny laughed. “Good choice mate. You won’t regret dat one at all! Now come on, we needs to get a few more people to go with us before I meet back up with the boys!”
Vinny promptly handed him a note, Gate Three-Oh-Six, and gave a strange smile. Roggenrola was released, and Pancham and Porygon returned to their trainers. Vinny motioned for the other two to follow, and shot a look at Sam that told him ‘follow too or there will be trouble.’ Sam looked to Roggenrola, and they both fell in behind. It was only a few seconds later that Xavier hustled back and whispered to him.
“I’m really sorry about that. I needed to put on a show.” His tone was completely different, though Sam’s attitude had notably soured. “What the hell is wrong with you, and what did you just force me into?”
“Look, I got press ganged into this just like you. He’s got like fifty other guys wandering around here snatching up people. I’m Xavier, that sadsack over there is Oliver, and we’re all stuck in this together until the end.”
“Which, by my reckoning, is a little over four months” Porygon quipped. Roggenrola shot as hard a glare as something without a face could shoot. “I just follow orders. You have no right to be mad.”
“You could have shoved a little less forcefully.”
“You’re a rock!”
Xavier shushed his Porygon and continued his conversation. 
“Look, from what I’ve gathered, these guys are gonna get about a few hundred people or so tops. The first chance we get, we need to bail. So, work together?”
Sam didn’t see that he had much of a choice. 

The banquet continued for many hours. Some gorged themselves to the point of near immobility, whilst others conserved themselves for the upcoming trial ahead. Those who had not already done their shopping did so, for they were not confident in their capabilities to survive off of nuts and berries. A few, such as Acorn, had already packed plentifully before the trek and were going over their supplies and how to ration it accordingly. As a Seedot does not eat much in the way of real food, Acorn had the benefit of extra rations. Likewise, for someone such as the unfortunates who picked Munchlax, they would be spending every penny and dime from their pockets on food for their Pokemon just to survive. “Good soil will keep us going for quite a while” his Seedot quipped. “Eeyup” said Acorn. He felt confident enough to drive himself through the thick and thin, for the outdoors were not foreign to him.
Others however, such as Tyler, began to weigh their options. He look nervously to his Onyx, who seemed to be dreading the possibility of trudging through a massive, humid jungle. “Ah don’t worry. You’re bigger than anything in that jungle I bet” he reassured the rock-serpent, patting his stony hide. He was less than certain however, and it was plainly evident on his face.
“Oi, sad sack, what’s up?” Franky approached. Tyler flinched; this was the one who had infamously bested the champion Jonah with only a Wooper. Aside him was Alexa, who Tyler did not recognize and had with her a Mudkip that gave him the creeps in the most unnerving of fashions. “Bruh, what’s your deal, hazing me like that?”
Franky looked him up and down, while Alexa remained quiet. “You look like someone who needs the help of a professional trainer!” Franky lambasted. 
Tyler scoffed. “More like, you need the help of a professional trainer. Tell me, how good do you think I am that I’m confident enough to bring an Onyx into a place filled with Grass Pokemon?”
His Wooper turned to him. “That’s pretty tough! We should take him.”
Alexa agreed, suddenly turning alarmingly cheerful. “Such a big, strong Pokemon too.” Admiring the Onyx, she suddenly reached out to pet it. The rock-serpent, despite its size, seemed uncharacteristically nervous at her touch. “I… Yeah! Let me guide you. Trust me bros, it’ll all work out.” Her nervousness vanished, and bravado came in its wake. Franky still felt unconvinced, but he gazed upon his Wooper’s eyes. They were filled with innocent trust and Franky relented. “Alright… but if I lose because of you I’m gonna kick your ass!”
Tyler shrugged, arrogantly confident. “You’re looking at champ material here, pal. It’s like, scientifically impossible for me to lose.”
Tyler began to give off a list of his talents, skills, and a number of other repertoires that were all similarly fictitious. His Onyx however stared at the Mudkip, which emptily stared back. It was the eyes of a vicious creature, one malicious in both body and mind. 
“Tyler…” it rumbled. The Mudkip kept its pleased look all the way up until Tyler responded. It had not expected him to be gifted as well, of all people.
“What’s up dude?”
“I don’t trust them. We should work alone.”
Tyler brushed him off. “You worry too much.” Onyx sighed in defeat. He had tried, he had said his peace, now it was up to Tyler to figure it out.

Nickel meanwhile kept his sister Tina close, and his gang closer. The mafioso were dressed as conspicuous as possible, an obvious warning to stay away. “There’s a lotta weirdoes, stay close to me okay?”
Tina rolled her eyes. “You worry too much.” She looked to the side and saw a massive hulking brick wall man and his Scyther following an older explorer around dutifully like a dog. An older couple chatted up a philosophical eddie in the corner, discussing the olden times, the weather, and the like. “I think, if we have time, we could explore the shoreline. A full week is more than enough time for a bit of a detour don’t you think?” said Leslie. 
“Yes yes, there is no rush” replied Boris, stroking his Slowpoke and laughing. Tina felt not in the least bit threatened by the competition. Nickels’ silly gang would more than keep her safe in the trials to come. Gradually however, there was a noise, a discordant wave of sound that seemed to be growing louder.
“Hey, miss champion! Can you sign my Turtwig’s shell?”
“Any tips, champ?”
“We love you!”
Then came a roaring crowd of people chanting “Summer!” over and over again, while a bashful girl and her crowd hogging Mawile took up much of the attention and stares of the room. Nickel narrowed his eyes. “That’s the Hoenn champion from a few years back. Older, but definitely her…”
“Dat’s the competition we’re up against boss?” Murkrow asked, warily eyeing the growing crowd. One woman at the front with a bounding Azurill seemed to following Summer quite closely. “Look at all the fans you have! Ohmigosh, I am so jealous!”
“Keep your distance from them. You, Charles, find out what gate she’s starting at.”
“On it, boss” the one named Charles said, moving through the crowds like a wave. There were seven-hundred and seven gates total, meant to hold forty-five thousand, two-hundred and forty-eight trainers, with sixty-four at each gate. That was the number of Pokemon trainers remaining after the announcement. Fully one in ten had dropped out, less than Nickel had expected. Those who had come certainly had moxie, but that did not necessarily indicate great skill or even tenacity in the long run. There was an armored knight with a Honedge escorting a pampered princess midway through the wave of a crowd, parting it like a sea through her sheer indomitability alone. The princess, Patricia, trailed meekly behind Bernice while her portly Petilil snoozed. 
“Watch out for that knight…”
Nickel shifted his pointing finger to a couple of tall, unremarkable trainers, Julia and Lars. “And that.”
“What’s wrong with them?” said Tina. “They look like people trying to hide something” said Nickel. “Lot’s of dangerous people here. It’s only natural, considering how many there are.”
“Gate Four-Six-Five, boss” said Charles, abruptly returning. “Most of em’ are around there.”
Nickel processed the information and scowled. “We’re Four-Forty. That’s close. Alright you mugs, listen up! We’ve got a plan and we’re gonna stick to it, so nobody get any smart ideas alright?” Tina rolled her eyes and idly pet her Snover as her brother began a soliloquoy, going over his plan of action.
She personally had no love for the mafia life, but the idea that they could escape it forever did indeed interest her. They had the numbers, and her brother was quite confident. In truth, it was herself she was more doubtful of.
She sighed. This was going to be a long few months. 

Kass fiddled with the Ice Stone in her hands, her Eevee diligently by her side. “Seems like we lucked out. Ice counters Grass.” The Eevee ruffled its fur. She tossed it up, caught it, and pocketed it. “You say it like you knew what was coming. Not that you didn’t, of course” Eevee quickly corrected as Kass shifted her gaze to the small thing. “Each part of this stupid run is connected to a type. I wasn’t sure we would be starting in the Grass area, but I had a hunch since it’s the closest to the port.” 
It also meant she had a good idea of how to build her team composition. It also meant that when they inevitably reached the Fire area, there’d be a problem. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
“So, what’s after the Grass place.” She scoffed. “Easy. That’s probably the- “
Suddenly aware she was being watched, Kass shut her mouth and turned to the side, Erin grinning wickedly.
“Evolution stones huh? Don’t you think that’s bending the rules a bit, miss two-time champion?”
Kass very slowly got up, and cracked her knuckles. “It would be a shame if someone broke all the bones in their body mysteriously right before the run started.” 
Erin frowned, her Poochyena growled. Kass’s punk Eevee stepped up to the fray, confident and smug. Yet as they prepared to brawl, she looked about. Several eyes were drawn upon them, most notably that of security personnel. Though they did not speak, their omnipresent gazes spoke more than words ever could. She sighed, and relented. “Let me guess, you want an alliance?”
“Damn straight” said Erin. Kass marched up to her, a full head taller than Erin, and scowled. “This isn’t going to be a free ride. You’re going to contribute, or you’re going to get abandoned.” There was no argument on the matter for Kass. That was final. Erin chuckled. “What kind of loafer do you take me for?” She nudged her Poochyena. “She thinks I’m a slacker, can you believe it?”
“We dug through the garbage for over a month…” it grumbled. The Eevee snickered. “It’s very simple. We work together, and I don’t narc on you for being a cheat. I mean, a champion such as yourself wouldn’t dare cheat, would they? Think of your reputation.”
For less, much much less, Kass had broken bodies and bones alike. Yet Erin held her at a conjunction of conundrums. She could theoretically just assault the trainer and leave, or wait to assault her in the forest where nobody would be watching.
However, there was an air of confidence around her, one seemingly backed by competence. “What’s your record?”
Erin held up three digits. “Three time’s I’ve made it to the Hoenn finals in the past three years. Last year I got to the quarterfinals.” She smiled smugly once again. “Face it, we’re both upper tier compared to this lot. You and me, together we can get to the end. Then we’re free to pound on each other as much as we like.”
Kass snorted and turned away. “Gate Eighteen. Don’t lag behind or you’re getting ditched.”
“Of course” Erin smiled as Kass left. Her Poochyena turned cautiously towards her. “Is this smart?”
Erin suddenly turned fierce. “Why do you always question everything I do eh? Back off.”
Poochyena sighed. There was no getting through to her under any circumstances it seemed. 

Elsewhere, Santos concluded his business. Beside him was a plate of freshly grilled steak, eaten with care and precision as befit its more noble palate. To the right his Meowth fretted, and to his left he moved a small pile of money across to Isa. Isa herself added calculations to her phone and smiled. “So, it is all in agreement then?”
She nodded in agreement. The extra cash would act as a safety net should she inadvertently lose a battle. “There is one thing I must discuss, however. I think you have likely already noticed it. A discrepancy.” Santos nudged his portly eyebrows, and Isa immediately caught on. “Yes, the numbers. The number of trainers that challenge us at the end of every subsequent area would be in the tens of thousands.”
She put a hand to her chin. “The resources required would be enormous. I can’t figure out how they’re able to get so many skilled trainers.”
Santos smiled. “The secret is that they don’t.” Isa blinked, visibly confused. “It is the populace. The locals have volunteered themselves for acting as battlers.”
“The locals…” Isa said, visibly stalled. She idly pet her sleeping Abra. “They would have to be skilled if the managers of the run trust them to be a challenge.”
“Indeed” agreed Santos. “The people of Baranga are secretive and mysterious, long known for their strange connections to Pokemon. It would not be unheard of for the locals to be just as skilled as many experienced trainers back home.”
She rapped her fingers on the desk, jostling her Abra slightly who kicked in its sleep, and then rolled over on its belly and allowed her to stroke it. “This complicates matters.”
Santos shrugged. “Nobody ever said it was going to be easy.” He tapped on his forehead. “All we have to do is outsmart them.”
“And manage our funds” bemoaned his Meowth. “We’re low enough as it is. Frankly, I’m worried about your fortune. We stand to lose everything on this…”
“Oh hush” Santos scoffed. “Everything will be fine you. We have help, help bought with coin and incentivized with more. Isn’t that right?”
Isa knew that Santos’s continued payments would only add to the ease at which she could manage resources. Having micro-managed all of her available assets, every single bonus only made things easier. With two brains combined, she felt their odds had increased substantially.
“So long as we don’t run out of money” said Meowth. 
A small hand removed a sizable piece of steak from the table while it wasn’t looking and then fluttered away on buzzing wings. It returned it to Percy, who lurked under another table in discussion with Toby. The two were of similar age, Percy a bit older, but they were definitely near the bottom in terms of age representatives. “Everyone’s grouping up” her Illumise said, divvying up the steak between herself and the Volbeat still in her backpack.
“How much longer?” it groaned. 
“Just a bit more” she intoned, pressuring it to stay hidden. Toby chewed on a chicken leg, and asked his Growlithe “Why didn’t we think of sneaking in a second Pokemon?”
“I’m your only Pokemon” it replied, face similarly stuffed. “Oh.”
“We’ll need to keep low, avoid other trainers.” Toby frowned. “Why? You scared?”
“I’m smart, unlike you” said Percy. Toby chuckled, until moments later realizing “Wait, that was an insult!”
Percy watched as a burlesque, muscle-toned woman with a Crabrawler stomped on by, loudly barging her way through the crowd to food. 
“Avoid confrontation. Can you manage that?”
Percy was the only one who seemed remotely interested in the possibility of teaming up. Though he fancied himself tough, it helped to have allies. “Of course. I’m a pro.”

Amid a crowed of awing admirers, Mike silently read his book while his Dratini coiled protectively around him. The incessant flash photography and overly curious trainers trying to poke the poor dragon were beginning to get on the normally patient guardian’s nerves. “Why are there so many?” he pondered. Dratini grumbled. “Curiosity, of something which they have never seen before.”
“Are all people like this?” asked Mike. “Many such” replied Dratini. “But few who are truly as connected as us. They cannot hear us speak.”
“But I can” said Ivan, suddenly appearing alarmingly close to Mike’s proximity. Dratini rose up to its full heigh, tightening its coiling embrace around Mike as it stared down the new intruder. “Do not touch the child. He is sacred.”
The Snivy before him carried a massive leather-bound book on its back that was larger than itself. Acting as a podium, Ivan began to flip through it. “But that is why I am interested see. This child is clearly sacred, and I possess the gift as well.” He looked around him. “Look at these plebeians. They know naught of the true relationship between man and Pokemon. They act the master, when we should be equals. No Pokemon shall command another, that is what Arceus ordained.”
The Church of the Eighteen Eyes, a small sect of Arceus-worship from the Sinnoh region. They were an eccentric bunch indeed, very uptight about the natural order, but certainly had the best interests of Pokemon in mind. Dratini looked down to the struggling Snivy. Supposedly, it mused.
“I would like to accompany the child on his journey. Protect him, guide him” said Ivan. Dratini looked cautious. “It is a great honor indeed. Ivan is a holy priest, and a holy priest should rightfully guide a holy child” Snivy added. Somewhat conflicted, Dratini beseeched Mike for guidance. “It is your choice” it said. 
Mike seemed bored and disinterested, more focused upon his book. “If he wishes, he may come along.”
That was it then. Though Dratini could not quell its bad intuition, what Mike spoke was final. The child was sacred, and he must be obeyed. His destiny came first, not the run. The run merely coincided with his journey by sheer coincidence.
Ivan meanwhile seemed like a conniving serpent. Dratini would keep a close eye on Mike if possible, and make a meal out of that creepy Snivy if it tried anything that so much as resembled physical contact with Mike.
“Ha-ha! There it is, my partner in crime! See before you the fruits of our labor!” shouted Basil, appearing as dramatically as a cartoon villain. Beside him was his Treecko, awkwardly sidling up next to him. “Hand over your Pokemon, and nobody gets hurt!” He struck a pose, Treecko awkwardly and reluctantly copying him. “No hard feelings. It’s his idea, not mine” he spoke to the Dratini and the Snivy.
A small crowd had formed to watch the amusement. The Snivy however hissed in an evil way, and got on all fours. “Forfeit your life if you like, but the child is under our protection.” 
Ivan grabbed the book, snapped it shut, and slung it under his arm. He seemed even more malicious than usual. “Come friend. Try.”
“What’s going on? Who are they?” Mike asked, mildly bemused. Dratini took one further look at the reluctant Treecko and concluded “Clowns.” 

It was then that an unexpected figure emerged, a very ungainly looking woman with a Popplio on her shoulder. She waltzed right up to Basil, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Basil jumped quite impressively into the air. “Gah! Unhand me, vile cretin!”
“Are you trying to get thrown out?” she asked innocuously. Basil looked about, noticing that security had taken an interest in his little tirade. “You win this time, but I’ll be back!” he shouted out as Beans led him away. Left alone, his Treecko silently bowed forgiveness, grew a nervous and embarrassed look, and quickly hurried after his trainer.
“That was a bold thing to do” she concluded, speaking to him personally. She seemed odd to Basil, a bit too much teeth and not enough face. The Popplio felt similar. “Well, I have to put on a show you know. Comes with the reputation” he defended himself. 
Beans looked to Popplio, the both still unflinchingly, unblinkingly, grinning. “Perhaps I can help you. Lend assistance if you would permit me.”
“You wish to be my… underling?” questioned Basil, not fully understanding the situation. Suddenly, Beans threw out a die high into the air. Somehow, it landed flat into the palm of her hand.
Four.
She smiled. “Of course.”
Treecko had a bad feeling about all this, but was too nervous to broach his thoughts. Shortly beside the two, the aspiring painter Yorick approached Patricia. Bernice kept the hilt of her hand on her sword in apprehension. “My lady, you are of royalty are you not?” said Yorick, her tone shaky and nervous with apprehension. 
The pudgy Petilil in her backpack yawned. “Who is this?” it spoke lethargically. “Yes, I am” said Patricia hesitantly. Bernice’s Honedge floated in front of her protectively, while Bernice joined him from the side. “Begone. You shall not panhandle from my charge.” 
The jittery artist shook her head rapidly in disapproval at the idea. “No, no! I-I am inspired by your presence. I wish to compose a ballad, an epic!”
She suddenly snapped to her Smeargle, who seemed to be equally as enamored. “My master has creativity, and I have the talent. I shall paint a portrait for you, free of charge.”
The Smeargle set to work, with Yorick dictating the colors and angles of the drawings. “Please wait! I promise this will be grand!”
It took only ten minutes for Smeargle to finish, but what he produced was truly worthy of at least half a grand. Patricia and her Petilil had been transformed from a modest little princess into an emboldened leader with the most inspiring Petilil ever seen.
Bernice and her Honedge had been relegated to a corner, slightly irking the knight and her pokemon. 
Then, Yorick got down on her knees and began to beg. “Please, I promise not to be a burden, but I see your form and I am inspired with the majesty. Let me accompany you, I beg you!”
Patricia felt mixed feelings, both of admiration at the artist’s quality and an aura of creepiness. “Well…” She looked to Bernice, who rapidly shook her head against the prospect. Yet Patricia was too soft. “If you insist. I will inform my knights of your presence.” 
Yorick squealed with glee, and danced for joy with her Smeargle. Bernice only grumbled. “Princess… Are you sure this is wise?”
Truthfully she did not, but she always felt like giving everyone a chance. “We shall see, I suppose.” 
Bernice looked the painter over. She seemed inept in more ways than way, and jittery like she was permanently on a coffee overdose. Bad feelings aside, she didn’t seem to be hard to get rid of if the need arose. 

“Will all contestants please report to their gates? The event will start in one hour. Repeat, the event will start in one hour.” 
They began to congregate in massive waves, each branching off into smaller tendrils of still quite impressive masses. It was perhaps one of the largest congregations of man and Pokemon seen in years. As the crowds moved, Jackson’s crew shoved past on their way to Gate Five. “Step aside landlubbers!” his Squirtle roared, barely muscling his way past a Poliwag and its trainer. It looked up to its trainer in admiration, and smiled with barely contained pride. “Captain! When are you going to tell me the secret?”
“What secret, VIP cabin boy?” said Jackson. “What we’re really here for!” He could barely contain his excitement. The captain and the crew had been very quiet about the subject, intentionally avoiding its discussion. The original claim of loot he knew had been bunk, Baranga was uncharted waters, and the crew spoke in hushed whispers of its secrets.
“You’ll see” he said cryptically, some of the enthusiasm leaving his face. For the Squirtle, this only made him more excited. 
Jackson tried not to let the thoughts of what was coming distract him from having a good time. It wouldn’t be long now…
He looked down at the Squirtle, feeling a tinge of remorse. The young sprout had no involvement in their business here, yet he was needed in order to enter the run. The run itself was a front, for his real business lay within the ghost lands. Even his crew remained in the dark, but they would understand. He hoped at least, for they were all loyal, composed of good men and women. Jackson had unfinished business here in Baranga, and he intended to leave with it finished.
And hey, if he happened to finish the run on the way, well that made it all the better.
Won’t be long now…
Cutting a swathe behind the pirates to Gate Two-Thirty-Two was Reese. She stood covered and caked in old blood, the results of old wounds. Her mangled Mareep attracted gazes, none of them positive. “This next experiment is going to be very interesting.” She rubbed her hands together, the little barbs attached to her nails drawing lines of blood. Tentatively she placed her palm to her lips and lapped up the crimson drain. “Mmm… saltier than usual. I must be feeling some tinge of excitement.” 
“Best control yourself. You don’t want to get too worked up too early” Mareep cautioned. It was for the best for everyone involved, not solely Reese. Mareep’s master could become quite volatile when excited. 
Trailing in the back, unseen by all, was Jon. He kept low, and he kept quiet. His goal was to be as unassuming as possible, and it was working. “Coo” said his Pidgey. Jon scratched his chin, and steadied his breathing. Keep calm, and everything will be just fine. 
At the very end was Gabi. She kept quiet, and projected an aura of negativity that every person and Pokemon instinctually avoided. She would do this on her own, and on her own terms. 

It took little time to assemble everyone in front of their gates. They were large and imposing structures of chain-mesh fence emblazoned with massive numbers to designate their placement. The one which Nico looked out upon was Gate Seven-Oh-Two, one of the last ones and therefore one near the furthest to the southern tip. The gates were all separated by a third of a mile, not much space for the dozens of trainers per gate. The first section would be a crowded nightmare, but gradually the forest would expand out to give everyone some modicum of space.
Arrogant as he was, however, Nico felt a sense of invincibility not necessarily earned. His Totodile would viciously hiss and snap at anyone who came within ten feet of Nico, ensuring him a space of his own. “Stop breathing my air, thank you very much.” 
A few had the gall to try and approach him, recognizing him for their previous talents, but they were quickly deterred by his vicious Totodile who repeated comments too harsh and filthy mouthed to repeat until they left, not that any of it was understood. 
“The arrogance of these toads, thinking they can get this close to you” she griped. “I know, right? People need to learn their place.” 
Naturally, Copper ignored this. Sidling up with boundless energy, she smiled a friendly smiled that was pre-empted by a warning gnashing of Totodile’s teeth. Her Elekid suddenly stood up, sparks blossoming from its head in a threatening manner, yet the little yellow Pokemon remained peppy. “Careful now, don’t wanna shock ya!”
The Totodile acquiesced, having the type disadvantage. Begrudgingly, Nico turned to Copper. “Hey, why so grumpy, Mr. pro?” 
Displaying a look of colorful offense, Nico somehow managed to look both appalled and amused. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Copper, duh” she said, circling around him like a shark. “But seriously, why are you acting so poopy? Hmm?” She got closer. Nico’s neck edged back to avoid physical contact. His lips sneered in a roiling motion, and he nastily responded “Listen here you petulant child. I am a professional, and you are not. That makes you below me.” 
Copper tilted her head back and forth like an owl, annoying Nico. His Totodile became dizzy, and her head began to spin. “What are you doing now?” he groaned.
“Tick, tock, we’re clocks!” she giggled, her Elekid joining in. Then, she began to run in place. “Not much time left until the race, Mr. pro. You seem pretty good, let’s work together!”
The very thought made Totodile nearly throw up the Tynamo pie she’d scarfed down earlier. “And why would I do that?”
“Because you’re a professional! You obviously know what’s best, so it’s best to follow the most experienced guy around!”
Accidentally appealing to his flattery, Nico suddenly began to grow an idea. A wonderful, awful idea. He smiled wickedly.
“Oh no. Master, please don’t- “
“Hush” Nico demanded with a finger snap. Reluctantly, Totodile shut her gob, and muttered under her breath foul insults.

“Did I hear that right? The most experienced you say?” he spoke with a smug grin. “Duhhh?” said Copper, putting her hands on her hips. “So obviously you know what you’re doing. What I’m trying to say is that you should take charge!”
“Of you?” he smiled hopefully. A servant to do all the dirty work would make things much easier. “No silly, of everyone!” said Copper. She threw out her hand, pointing to the crowd of people that had begun to watch their interaction with curiosity. For the first time, Nico truly understood the opportunity presented to himself.
He’d found an army. “Ah… Of course.” He suddenly snapped to a serious look once again. “But you have to do everything I say, got it? I will not tolerate insubordination.” Copper saluted. “Aye aye sir!”
He began to work his magic from there on, using his not quite silver but closer to a rusted bronze tongue backed by Copper’s charisma to coerce the rest of the gate to join him as his underlings. 
“Ugh… I don’t want to associate with amateurs!” his Totodile whined viciously. Nico suddenly shot her a look, and she grew fearful. “Obey, or you will be replaced” he threatened. Cowering, the bullying Totodile retreated away from him. She hated being scolded, and she was quite afraid of Nico’s temper more than anything else. Though she admired her, she equally feared him.
“Hey Bitey, can I call you that by the way? Looks like we’re working together now” the Elekid said, waltzing over with a smug arrogance that only victory can provide. Totodile gnashed her teeth and turned the other cheek. “Only because I’m being forced to. Don’t think this means we’re friends!”
“Oh likewise” said the Elekid, suddenly drawing closer. It reached out an arm, static crackling around it, and pulled the Totodile in closer. “I’m only doing this because my master tells me to. So you aren’t going to cause her trouble, right?” To prove a further point, the Elekid sent a mild jolt coursing through its arm. It gave Totodile quite a harsher shock than the Elekid though, causing its eyes to temporarily discombobulate. Dumbfounded, the Elekid stared her down. “No biting, no scheming, or you get zapped. Got it?”
The Totodile nodded silently. Satisfied, Elekid left, whilst Totodile began to nurse a respectably healthy grudge. There was no way in hell it was going to put up with that Elekid all the way through the run. It would get revenge. Somehow, someway. 

Off at Gate Three-Oh-Six, Vinny and a sizable party of his thuggish group were uproariously egging themselves on with a combination of sports drinks and bad attitudes. He had forcibly inducted many into his little army, and sent various enforcers to watch them. With a force as large as his, he felt invincible. Oliver stuck by his side, silent and quavering. 
Behind all of them however, lurked Jacques silently. He had more than a sneaking suspicion that Vinny was his target. It had been over three weeks since he’d started tracking the miscreant down, but now he was finally confident he had arrived at the correct quarry. Happiny grinded her hands together. “We jump him, right?” she sneered. Jacques however shook his head. “We do this properly” cautioned Jacques. “Less we stoop to their level.”
They trounced about arrogantly, bossing around those they had forcibly press-ganged. “I saw them forcibly swapping out people’s cards at this gate for another, trying to stack the gates in their favor by grouping themselves and their ‘friends’ together. Nobody seemed that concerned with stopping them” noted Happiny. “I doubt they thought it was important. For most, where they start is of little concern if they are truly unfamiliar with the location.”
He looked about again. Around half a dozen of Vinny’s men, and for one thug there were generally five or six more that had been roped into their little scheme. “How many would you say got accosted, Happiny?”
Happiny did the math in her head. “A few hundred, give or take a few dozen. They’re the biggest group I’ve seen yet.”
Already the trainers had been trying to group up in various ways. Vinny’s army was so far the largest, and it was still only a small fraction of the contestants. “I’ve never seen so many people in one place” she said. “Agnama is big. There will be more than enough room.”
He noted the Pancham, and the way Vinny carried himself around like an arrogant monkey. “He seems tough. I think we should chip away at his gang first before we go after him.” 
Happiny seemed both confused and reluctant at this information. “Why?” she questioned. He extended a hand, showcasing the menagerie of foes before them. “They have an army, and we’re alone. He’ll just call on his goons if he thinks he’s in trouble.” 
“Log Nineteen, September 3rd, I have approached a local who seems to be plotting. He is obviously filled with intrigue, will attempt to make contact.”
Slowly, like a pendulum, the duo turned to a strange trench-coated girl and a very fatigued looking Chatot. “Hello. Look, really sorry about this. C’mon Q, let’s- “
Q raised a finger to silence Chatot, who gave up trying to salvage the issue. “Hello citizen of Baranga. I am not a citizen of Baranga. Let us discuss that suspicious person over there” said Q, pointing to Vinny with the monotonous tone of a robot.
“Uh…” said Jacques, momentarily taken aback. “Who… are you?” he asked.
Q tipped her hat and smiled. “Sorry in advance” apologized Chatot. “I am a professional investigator. You look like someone who is investigating as well. Tell me what you are doing, and I will help you.” 
Jacques looked to Happiny, and vice versa. They supposed some help couldn’t hurt, and as for Q, she somehow believed it would lead her one step closer to her ultimate goal. 
A deal was struck, one of cooperation and scheming. One way or another, Vinny’s gang would be toppled.

Uina let the medicinal herbage seep through her system, and continued to laze upon the side of her extremely mellowed Tropius. The ancient Pokemon was a rare sight, and drew many alluring gazes. She openly interacted with her fellow trainers, sharing in her mellow vibes and strange yet sound logics as the universe wafted past her. 
“That is indeed a rare Pokemon you have” said Camilla, approaching the zoned-out trainer. Tropius was utterly passive, regarding Camilla with distant interest. “May I have a banana?” she asked. Tropius lowered its neck, allowing the kindly mothering trainer to remove the ripe fruit from its long strut of a neck. “As many as you want, man” it spoke slowly and wistfully.
Camilla laid down next to the Tropius, exchanging pleasantries with its owner. Only now did Uina notice the tiny Ekans coiled around her neck, nervous but curious at the creature it had never seen before. “Nice little purple dude” said Uina, causing the snake to shrink back. “Oh, do not be shy little one, this woman is our friend.” 
Cautiously, it allowed Uina to use her own arm as a branch. Coiling around it, it became peaceable once more, relaxed and happy. “This little guy’s fresh from the egg” said Uina. “Yes, he is just a baby. But he will grow up strong and powerful, as they all do.” 
Uina cocked her head, trying to get a read on the unusual woman with the unusual aura. It was calm, but at the same time dominant like a den mother. “Are you a…?”
“A breeder” Camilla finished, admiring Tropius even further. “Your Pokemon is completely relaxed. I rarely see people in tune with their Pokemon as such.” 
“Well, I got the gift of tongues man. It’s radical, I heard everything” she scratched her Tropius on the neck. “How quaint” smiled Camilla. “I do as well.” Uina smiled and high-fived her slowly. “Right on dudette. We should friend up. This run’s gonna get lonely alone” she said. Camilla agreed. “I fancy our chances better if we have the benefit of some protection.
One by one, the pacts formed. 
Elsewhere at another gate, Milo sat silently and meditated. They both shut their eyes and listened as the wind and leaves rustled against each other. “Do you feel it?” asked Milo. “Mm-hm” responded his Meditite. “There is a storm coming. The wind is anxious, and the clouds are beginning to propagate just outside of reach.” 
“We should focus on a shelter then. The first night should be spent defensively until we can establish a safe route to take” said Milo.
There was silence for several seconds more before Meditite spoke “Master, I have a question.” 
“Speak please.”
“Who will we be acquiring for our team first?” The Meditite had been lonely for some time, though it would never admit it. It had always secretly desired a pupil to begin passing on its teachings, even though its own training was not yet complete. Amused, Milo chuckled. “That will depend entirely upon what fate has in store for us.”
Somewhat disappointed at the vagueness of the answer, Meditite sighed. “Of course, master.” 

Shawn pondered exactly why he was still here. He should have joined the five-thousand or so that had gotten up and quit. It mystified him as to why he was even still around when he knew full well that he would only detest what was he was about to experience. “Ah god… my allergies are acting up with all this stupid pollen” Shawn whined. His Mareanie continued to munch on Corsola bits, having hoarded a massive pile from the banquet before.
Just a little bit longer, it reminded itself. Then it would be home free. Leave the sadsack to his fate, he didn’t care. Yet he could also not help but wonder why Shawn hadn’t simply gone home? Perhaps the disappointment of his parents was an even worse fate in his mind.
“Hey sadsack, what’s our plan?” 
“I don’t frickin’ know. Give up? Cause we’re screwed, that’s what.” Mareanie rolled its eyes. “Hey, I’m not going to put up with your whining the whole way through all right?”
“Then leave” Shawn stated bluntly. “It’ll mean I’m out of this dumb competition quicker.”
Oh don’t worry, thought the Mareanie, I fully intend to. The boy was just a means to an end. If possible, and this was a very big if at that, he could maybe get an easy evolution out of him. That remained to be seen just how much he could put up with sadsack before he got sick of him, however. 
A scant minute before the gate opened, Sheila settled confidently upon her Zapdos at Gate One. It faced a wide lake, across from which she saw foggy ruins in the far distant backdrop. The map they had been given told her this was her destination. It would be a simple matter of cutting straight through the forest to get to it. If she really wanted it, she could cut straight over and be done in a day.
But there was no fun in that. There may be other trainers in the air with Pokemon like Skarmory or Scyther that needed to be knocked down a peg. Eliminating them early would be good sporting practice for her Zapdos. 
Screeching, the Zapdos let out a burst of lightning that was discernible from miles away. Shortly afterwards came plumes of fire and ice from her sisters Moltres and Articuno respectively. Karla and Lara were her twins, though she considered herself the superior, for she had league titles under her belt. She’d never quite managed to beat the region champion Lance, but she had good records nonetheless that outstripped most of her peers. 
The Zapdos had been a lucky find. It had cost quite a bit of money to acquire, even moreso to ‘break it in’, but it ensured her an easy win. And there wasn’t a damn thing the rulings could do to stop her. 
Moments before it began, she checked the Zapdos’s eyes. They were milky and obedient, pacified well by the medicine. She had a year-long supply of the stuff, and it was a powerful drug indeed. Nobody could truly tame a Zapdos, not even a champion, but with the powers of modern science, it could become slightly pacified.
The drugs didn’t take its will away, but it lowered its aggression like the effects of strong herbage. It fought well enough as it was, and it required little attention on her part. 
Suddenly the gate proctor blew his whistle, and moved to open the gate. It grinded open, yet the other trainers all gave her a wide berth. They had no intention of stopping her. 
As it clanked open and the proctor shouted for the race to begin, Sheila immediately took the skies. This would be a walk in the park, she grinned, for she had the thunder of the gods by her side.