Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Ladies and gentlemen, trainers and fans across Indigo—welcome to Viridian City Gym on this beautiful Friday evening!”

The commentator’s voice boomed through the loudspeakers, swallowed by the roar of thousands. The open-roofed arena let the night spill in, the first stars pricking through the indigo sky while floodlights burned down harsh and hot.

The stands were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder, banners waving, fans screaming themselves hoarse. Camera drones bobbed overhead like a flock of Pidgey, lenses blinking red as they streamed every second live into living rooms and bars across the region.

The battlefield stretched out beneath us—massive, easily the size of a football field. Floodlights hung from the rafters, casting every shadow sharp as a blade. The reek of cheap food and too many bodies crammed into the stands carried on the air.

Unlike its training arenas, Viridian Gym’s main arena didn’t deal in flat, earthen floors. The field below was a brutal imitation of the forest it was named for: jagged slabs of stone broke through the dirt, crooked stumps and thorny underbrush scattered in clusters across the arena.

Sparse trees—half-dead, their trunks scarred with claw marks from a hundred matches—jutted from the ground at odd angles. The air smelled faintly of damp moss and woodsmoke, a forest filtered through steel and concrete.

Every part of it screamed one thing: survive here, or you’ll never survive the real Viridian Forest.

“In the green corner, standing undefeated for the last three years—your Gym Leader, the mistress of the Viridian Forest herself—Suzie Harrison!”

The crowd erupted, stomping feet shaking the steel rafters, the chant of Su-zie, Su-zie rolling like thunder. Across the battlefield, she lifted a hand in acknowledgment, her expression all calm confidence. Olive drab fatigues clung sharp to her frame—part bug catcher, part safari guide, part soldier out of time. A hunter dressed for the kill.

“And in the black corner, the challenger everyone’s talking about—newly licensed trainer from Pallet Town, Chloe Luxford!”

I stood in my box above the battlefield, black jeans and shirt stiff under the leather jacket, boots planted wide, arms crossed. I didn’t wave. Didn’t smile. The reaction was split—cheers mingling with boos. The drones angled closer, catching every piercing, every tattoo, every spike of my jacket in jumbotron super size. On my belt, Arashi’s and Ace’s Poké Balls gleamed under the floodlights, waiting.

I pushed the crowd from my mind, using George and Xavier’s lessons to let a calm settle in my chest, steadying my breath. My team had grown during our trials in Viridian Forest and the week of training that had followed. Arashi was tougher, meaner than ever while Ace had taken to his new form like he was born to it. Whatever Suzie threw at us, I was confident we could handle it.

The referee stepped into position at the edge of the rectangular arena, classic striped uniform crisp as they raised their flag. The noise surged, then broke into silence at their command.

“This is a two-on-two Gym battle. Standard Indigo League rules. When both of a trainer’s Pokémon are unable to continue, the match is over. Trainers—are you ready?”

Suzie gave a short nod, eyes never leaving me.

I tilted my chin, teeth clenched.

“Ready,” my voice like ice over the mic clipped to my lapel.

The referee raised their hand high.

“Three… two… one—BEGIN!”

Two Poké Balls arced into the air at the same time, red light shattering against the field.

Suzie’s landed first—A huge Pinsir materializing with a roar, horns snapping shut with a crack like bone breaking, its beady eyes filled with feral hunger.

Arashi materialized a second later, the little Mareep hitting the ground hooves-first, wool sparking faintly as Static crackled into effect. She bleated once, a cry of defiance, facing down a monster twice her size, her spiked collar glinting under the floods.

“Cute lamb you’ve got,” Suzie smirked from across the field, her own mic broadcasting her trash talk to the entire world. “Looks like you even bought it a pretty collar.”

I kept silent, refusing to rise to her bait.

“Pinsir—X-Scissor!” Suzie’s command cracked across the arena like a whip when she realized I wasn’t going to reply.

The stag beetle lunged forward, claws crossing in a blur of green energy.

“Arashi, Thunder Wave!” I snapped.

Her wool sparked violently, golden arcs whipping forward in a crackling net. Pinsir slammed straight through it, the charge faltering mid-stride as paralysis gripped its limbs. Its claws scythed short, gouging a crooked stump instead of Arashi’s face, sending bark flying in shards.

The crowd roared—half cheering, half booing.

“And what an opening gambit!” the commentator bellowed. “Luxford’s Mareep buys time with a Thunder Wave, but can this little lamb really stand against Harrison’s savage Pinsir?”

Suzie’s jaw tightened.

“Shake it off. Earthquake!” she ordered.

Pinsir reared, slamming its weight into the floor. The whole arena shuddered, jagged tiles cracking as a shockwave blasted outward. Dust poured from the scarred stumps, dead leaves fluttering down like ash. One half-dead tree splintered with a sharp crack.

The little Mareep hunched low, sparks crawling over her fleece as she braced against the quake. Her hooves sank into dirt packed with old roots. Dust exploded around her, knocking her from her feet and inflicting serious damage but leaving the Bug-type panting as it struggled to regain its breath.

“Use Charge!” I called

Arashi clambered upright, wool glowing brighter as she siphoned energy into herself. The crowd screamed approval, flashes strobing as drones zoomed close.

I gritted my teeth. Time to find out if all the training had paid off.

“Now—Thunderbolt!”

Arashi’s wool lit like a stormcloud and spat a jagged bolt across the arena. The lightning split the air, the smell of ozone sharp and bitter, searing every scarred trunk and twisted stone with a flash of white light. The bolt hammered Pinsir’s chest, driving the beetle back a step, smoke curling from its carapace.

Suzie didn’t even blink.

“Counter with Rock Tomb.”

Pinser buried its head claws into the ground. The floor ruptured, jagged boulders ripping upward. One smashed into a stump, splitting it clean in two, before hurtling toward Arashi.

“Arashi, Headbutt! Break through!”

She bleated and charged, sparks crackling in her fleece. She slammed her skull against the first boulder, shattering it into rubble that rained into the underbrush. Another rock clipped her flank, spinning her sideways with a sharp cry.

I swore under my breath. We were barely two minutes into our match and already Arashi was barely hanging on.

“Pinsir, finish it—X-Scissor!”

The bug was on her in an instant, claws crossing in a green blur.

“Move! Tackle, left!”

Arashi lunged at the last second, slamming into Pinsir’s leg to deflect the strike. The energy blades missed her by inches, gouging furrows into the dirt and stone floor. She bounced back, dark wool bristling, eyes wild.

The crowd’s roar rattled my teeth.

“Pinsir’s just playing with her,” Suzie sneered.

“Then you’d better hope he doesn’t choke on the wool,” I snapped, losing my temper.

“Keep it up,” Suzie commanded. “Take Down!”

Pinsir’s body blurred forward, slamming into Arashi with the weight of a truck. She tumbled, bouncing across cracked tiles and snapping through underbrush until she skidded to a stop against a stump.

“Arashi!” I gripped the railing hard enough my knuckles ached.

She twitched, forcing herself up on shaky legs, sparks leaking from her fleece like a shorted fuse. Her hooves dug in, trembling but defiant.

My throat burned.

“One more time—Discharge!” I cried out.

Her body erupted in light, a storm of raw electricity blasting outward in every direction. The air stank of ozone, lightning spiderwebbing through dirt, cracking across stones, setting dry twigs glowing. Arcs hammered into Pinsir, locking its body in spasms.

For a heartbeat, the crowd went berserk.

But Pinsir didn’t fall. It straightened, smoke curling from its carapace, eyes narrowing into red points of fury.

“Pinsir—Rock Tomb!”

Again the earth split, more boulders ripping upward, hurtling in. One smashed straight into Arashi’s back, pinning her to the cracked floor. She let out a pained bleat, legs buckling.

“And Mareep is pinned!” the commentator shouted. “Can Luxford’s little lamb rise, or has Harrison’s Pinsir secured the first victory of this exhilarating match?”

The rocks ground against her fleece. Smoke curled faintly from where her sparks met the stone. Her eyes blazed—not fear, but fury.

“Arashi…” I breathed.

“That’s all you’ve got? Static and sparks?” Suzie’s voice rang across the arena.

“All it takes is one good zap to fry a bug,” I spat back.

“Pinsir—end it with X-Scissor!”

The bug raised its claws once more, Bug-type energy glowing green—

“Arashi, Take Down!” I screamed, my fury feeding her own.

Arashi shrieked and hurled herself forward, black wool lit white-hot. She smashed through the boulders, stone shattering into rubble that scorched in her wake, and slammed into Pinsir’s chest with everything she had left.

The explosion of sound and light drowned out even the commentator and his loudspeakers. Sparks clung to the shattered roots and underbrush, smoke curling faintly upward. Pinsir reeled, electricity crawling up its horns, even as its claws came down.

Then both Pokémon collapsed at once—Pinsir crashing in a heap, Arashi sprawling limp beside it, her fleece still crackling faintly.

The referee raised a black flag.

“Both Pokémon are unable to battle! It’s a double knockout!” he called.

The crowd went berserk, half in cheers, half in boos, stamping their feet and screaming, the din rattling the rafters.

The commentator’s voice tore through the chaos.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Unbelievable! Luxford’s little lamb takes down Harrison’s mighty Pinsir in a double faint! What grit, what fire—this Mareep fights like a Tauros!”

“Rest, you angry little shit,” I whispered as the red light drew her back. I exhaled shakily, hand tight on Arashi’s Poké Ball.

Across the field, Suzie recalled Pinsir, her expression carved from stone. She leaned forward, voice dripping venom.

“Don’t get cocky, Luxford,” she snarled. “You haven’t won anything yet.”

“Trainers, prepare your second Pokémon!” The referee called and lifted a green flag.

“And what an opening round, folks!” the commentator howled, his voice nearly lost in the roar. “Suzie Harrison’s Pinsir brought raw power, but Luxford’s Mareep showed us something else entirely—pure, stubborn rage! A double knockout to start this Gym match! What’s next? What do these trainers have left in the tank?!”

The crowd surged, the chant of Su-zie, Su-zie clashing with Lux-ford, Lux-ford, until it all blurred into one deafening wall.

The referee lifted a hand. The noise dulled, not much but enough.

“Trainers—resume the match!”

Two new Poké Balls arced into the air in the same heartbeat, bursting in twin flares of crimson light.

Suzie’s insectoid monster emerged first once again, revealing Beedrill, its wings buzzing so loud they grated against the ears, stingers gleaming under the floodlights. It hovered menacingly, darting forward and back like it couldn’t wait to stab something. Its wings rattled the branches of a half-dead stump, scattering brittle leaves across the battlefield like confetti.

My ball struck the floor, light spilling out and pooling into shadow, Ace padding forward, his black coat drinking the floodlight’s glare, golden rings burning like beacons, an identical spiked leather collar around his neck. His red eyes glowed as they locked onto Beedrill.

The stadium recoiled like a living thing at the sight of him, cries and even a few screams echoing from the stands.

“Of course,” Suzie sneered, her voice carrying over the speakers. “A Dark-Type. You show your true colours now, Luxford.”

The referee’s arm dropped before I could spit out a retort.

“Begin!”

“Beedrill—Twinneedle!” Suzie snapped, not giving us even a second.

The bug launched forward in a blur, wings screaming, both forelimb stingers glowing as it drove straight for Ace’s chest.

“Sand Attack!” I barked.

Ace darted sideways, claws scraping a burst of grit up from the cracked dirt. The spray blasted into Beedrill’s eyes, its shriek slicing over the buzz of its wings. It veered off-course, its stingers stabbing into a dead stump and gouging grooves deep into the bark. Splinters exploded outward.

The crowd erupted—half gasps, half jeers.

“Clever counter from Luxford’s Umbreon!” the commentator shouted. “That Sand Attack disrupts Beedrill’s assault, but Harrison’s ace isn’t down yet!”

Suzie’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t let up—Poison Jab!”

Ace blurred into motion, a streak of black muscle, smashing into Beedrill’s side just as it dove. The bug reeled, tail gouging a trench into the arena floor instead of his body.

“Follow it!” I yelled. “Snarl!”

Ace skidded around, hackles rising, and unleashed a guttural roar. The sound rolled across the field like thunder, shadows under the stumps and stones thickening as though the whole forest-imitating arena recoiled. Beedrill faltered mid-hover, its wings buzzing erratically under the oppressive wave.

The crowd’s reaction was instant as it turned against the sleek Dark-type, booing and jeering, shouting for him to be removed from the field.

Ace didn’t flinch. His rings pulsed faintly, his red eyes burning as he paced forward, low and deliberate, a predator closing in. My heart swelled with pride.

“Beedrill—Aerial Ace!” Suzie called, slashing down with her hand.

The overgrown hornet blurred upward in a black and yellow streak, before carving back down in a flawless arc. The hit slammed into Ace’s ribs, knocking him across the field. He rolled, dirt and grit sticking to his fur, before clawing himself upright. His rings flashed once in pain before settling back into a steady glow.

“Ace, Bite!” I snapped.

He lunged forward with a low snarl, jaws clamping onto one gleaming forelimb. Beedrill shrieked, wings flaring wildly as Ace yanked it down, stinger-arm ripping free from the bug’s torso in a spray of grey-green fluid.

The crowd screamed at the sight. This is what they’d come to see.

“Shake it off! Suzie barked. “Poison jab!”

Beedrill’s abdomen lashed down, venom stabbing into Ace’s shoulder. He hissed, releasing his grip, stumbling sideways with the purple sheen of poison already burning beneath his fur. The bitter tang of toxins stung the air.

“See that, Luxford?” Suzie’s laugh cut sharp across the arena. “All the shadows in the world won’t save your previous little freak.”

“Moonlight!” I shouted, ignoring her taunts to focus on the match.

Ace crouched, rings glowing, pale light washing over his body. His ragged breathing steadied, wounds closing faintly. The purple stain of venom faded under the shimmer of healing.

“Pathetic. Hiding behind tricks,” Suzie sneered, her lip curling. “You know you can’t beat my team, so you cower and stall. That’s not strength, Luxford—that’s fear.”

“Funny,” I retorted. “Looks a lot like surviving to me.”

Boos cascaded from the stands, venomous as the poison itself. Healing moves, while completely legitimate under Indigo League rules, were rarely viewed positively. Crowds didn’t want to see damage being undone. They wanted to see blood.

“Unbelievable resilience from Luxford’s Umbreon!” The commentator shouted over the crowd. “That Moonlight recovery gives him a second wind—but Harrison’s Beedrill isn’t slowing down yet!”

“Twineedle!” Suzie ordered.

The insect blurred forward, stingers jabbing in a vicious flurry. Ace dodged the first strike, ducked the second, but the third caught his ribs, driving a grunt from his throat.

“Assurance!”

Ace dashed forward, shadows gathering around him like a ragged cloak as he leapt and smashed into Beedrill mid-hover, the Dark-type move dealing double damage due to Beedrill’s damaged arm. The bug ricocheted into a crooked stump, snapping branches before buzzing back up, furious.

“Both Pokémon are heavily damaged, but neither is breaking!” the commentator roared. “Harrison’s Beedrill fights with veteran precision, but Luxford’s Umbreon answers with raw power and brutal counterstrikes!”

Suzie’s finger jabbed down from her box at Ace.

“Drill Run!” she screamed.

The hornet screamed forward, stinger spinning like a drill bit, carving furrows into the dirt and scattering roots. It drove for Ace’s chest.

He staggered, poisoned and battered, just barely ducking aside as the stinger gouged a trench through the earth. Beedrill whipped around instantly, wings thrumming, needle aimed for his throat this time.

The crowd was already on its feet, screaming for blood.

“Beedrill is dominating! Luxford’s Umbreon can’t stand much longer—” The commentator howled.

“Feint Attack!” I ordered calmly.

Ace melted into the dirt as though he’d stepped through water, his form collapsing into the shadow pooled beneath a leaning stump. The glow of his rings winked out. The arena gasped, stunned into silence but for the frantic buzz of Beedrill’s wings.

Then Ace surged up from Beedrill’s own shadow, red eyes blazing. He launched straight upward, jaws clamping into its underbelly. Beedrill shrieked, convulsing as he ripped it out of the air, momentum carrying them both into the cracked stone.

The impact shook the arena. Dirt and brittle leaves sprayed outward, the stench of scorched chitin filling the air. Beedrill thrashed once, twice—then went limp as Ace, hackles raised, muzzle glistening with insect blood, tore it open to devour its innards.

The stadium was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. The referee raised a flag.

“B-Beedrill is unable to battle!” he stumbled. “Chloe Luxford is the winner!”

The crowd exploded—not with cheers, but with fury. Boos rained down like a storm, jeers rolling so loud they rattled the steel rafters. Someone screamed cheater while another hurled a half-empty drink that splattered against the arena’s psychic barriers. Balled up paper flyers and trash tumbled through the air after it.

Camera drones dove low in a frenzy, lenses glinting like vultures over the carcass, red lights blinking as they caught every grisely bite. Gym trainers along the stands moved fast to keep the crowd from turning into a riot.

“Did you see that?! Luxford’s Umbreon vanishes into shadow and strikes from below with a devastating Feint Attack!” The commentator’s voice strained over the uproar. “What brutality, what carnage! And the crowd looks furious! This is why Dark-Types terrify the public—and you can hear it in every voice here tonight!”

Calls of monster and demands for Ace to be put down pounded the air, venom in every syllable. A mother clutched her child tight. Trainers pressed against the railings, some shouting for the match to be thrown out, others spitting curses at me like knives.

Suzie attempted to recall her Pokémon, but Ace moved in front of the beam, preventing anyone from taking his meal. Jaw tight, eyes burning, she turned toward the stands, holding the empty ball aloft.

“You see what she brings into our city, Viridian?” she shouted, her mic amplifying her voice over the screaming crowd. “A monster with a soul as black as her own!”

The mob roared its agreement, the chant of Dark-Type! Dark-Type! surging louder, bodies stamping so hard the floor vibrated beneath my boots.

Suzie’s gaze cut back to me, lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Enjoy your little win, Luxford. It doesn’t change what you are,” she spat. “Everyone here sees it. Everyone knows.”

I recalled Ace back to his ball and placed it on my belt, leather jacket creaking as I folded my arms across my chest. The boos poured down harder, venom in every voice, but I let it wash over me.

I leaned into my lapel mic.

“Play it,” I said.

The giant screens of the jumbotron cut from live feeds of the arena to a shaky camera phone video of two women standing in a locker room.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“Why? Because you’re a freak, Luxford. This nation was built on people knowing their place, who respected the natural order. You’re a stain on everything that makes Kanto beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t need to. I can see it. Everyone can. Your kind makes me sick.”

“My kind? And what kind is that?”

“Deviants, perverts, molesters.”

“What? I’m not-”

“Not a transexual? Not a raging homosexual? You’re sick and you make me sick.”

“I’m not trans. But even if I was, that’s no reason to send someone to die.”

“Picked up on that, did you? Shame you weren’t clever enough to never come back here.”

“This is insane. You’d really send a new trainer off to get killed just because you thought they looked queer?”

“It’s one of my finest honors as Gym Leader of this city to rid it of people like you. And once I crush you tonight and no one cares about you anymore, I’ll be paying you a little extra visit to finish the job.”

The video froze, then cut back to the beginning and repeated. The crowd was confused. They didn’t understand what they were seeing. Then a voice called out.

“Homophobe!” Raymond shouted from the stands. “Bigot!”

The crowd picked up the outrage, turning on their beloved Gym Leader just as quickly as they’d turned on me.

We’d won our match. But this was our real victory.

—-----

Outside the Gym, the night air was thick with noise—reporters shouting questions, camera drones buzzing over head, fans screaming themselves hoarse from either joy or outrage. Local Viridian PD kept the worst of the mob at bay, their Pokémon forming a wall of muscle and glowing eyes while I slipped away via a side entrance.

Joey slipped in beside me, bouncing on his toes, Mr. Wiggles beside him, the egg clutched against his chest in its pack. His grin was wide enough to split his face.

“You did it!” he practically shouted, his words tumbling over each other. “You beat her! Everyone’s talking about it, Chloe! You’re famous!”

“Yeah,” I rasped, my throat sore from all the screaming. “Somehow I don’t think they’ll be cheering my name though.”

Joey didn’t hear me—or maybe he just didn’t care. He was still babbling, eyes bright, replaying every moment of the fight with sound effects and wild hand gestures. Mr. Wiggles squeaked agreement, little arms flailing in rhythm.

I let him chatter, the noise strangely comforting. After a few blocks, I finally cut in.

“I didn’t see you in the stands,” I said.

Joey froze mid-gesture.

“Oh. Uh. I was… y’know. In the back somewhere.” He waved vaguely toward nothing, eyes darting away. “Couldn’t get a good seat. But I heard everything! You were amazing!”

I gave him a long look, but said nothing. I was done for the night.

The hotel’s front doors groaned as I shoved them open, the night clerk not even looking up from his Pokedex, no doubt watching replays of the match.

But someone else did.

Slouched in one of the lobby chairs, Poke Ball in hand, spinning it absently between his fingers, was Gary Oak. He stood when he saw me, a thin smile tugging at his mouth.

“Upstairs, kid,” I said before he could start rattling off another play-by-play. “Get Wiggles settled.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at my face and he wilted.

“Okay.” He shuffled toward the stairs, clutching Mr. Wiggles like a teddy bear.

When he was gone, I walked over as Oak studied me, eyes sharp, as if he could see every ache I was trying to hide.

“Not bad,” he said finally. “Suzie’s Pinsir and Beedrill aren’t pushovers.”

“‘Not bad,’ huh?” I dropped onto the chair opposite him, leg stretched stiff in front of me despite it being nearly healed. “You’ve got a hell of a way with praise.”

He smirked.

“You won. That’s what matters. But—” his gaze lingered on the faint tremor in my hands, the stiffness in my shoulders, “—it wasn’t clean. And you know it.”

“A win’s a win.” I bristled, jaw tightening.

Oak shook his head.

“Not when you’ve got the entire Indigo League watching. You've shown you’ve got potential to go far, that you won’t be bullied, but this is going to rattle a lot of cages.”

I stared at the lobby floor, the tile blurring under the soft lights. The boos, the jeers, Suzie’s smug voice—all still ringing in my skull.

Oak’s tone softened, just a fraction.

“You won’t have it easy from here on out. The more badges you take, the bigger the stage gets. And the more they’ll be waiting for you to stumble.”

I leaned back, the chair’s vinyl creaking softly.

“Story of my life.”

Oak folded his arms, studying me like he was weighing whether to press further.

“So, what’s next for the mighty Chloe?” he asked, his tone slightly teasing.

I let out a dry laugh.

“Straight to business, huh?” I said. “I picked up a lead from one of the researchers at the Sanctuary. A scientist working out of Mt. Moon.”

Oak’s lips pressed thin, the easy smirk gone.

“You aren’t going to like hearing this,” he said. “Like with Viridian Forest, Mt. Moon’s off limits to anyone without the Pewter City badge.”

The words hit like another weight on my shoulders. My stomach sank. Another Gym. Another crowd waiting to see me fail..

“Great,” I muttered. “Guess I better get used to being the villain.”

Oak’s eyes softened, but his voice stayed firm.

“You forgot this, by the way,” he leaned towards me and handed me a small white pin. “Viridian City’s Silk Badge.”