The morning began with sunlight sharp through the trees, slicing between trunks like thin blades of warmth. Not hot—just dry and clear. A sky so blue it looked artificial, with a clean breeze that carried the scent of pine and long-decayed leaves.
It was the kind of morning that made the past few days feel distant. A trick of memory. Like they hadn't been through rain, rough trail, fatigue, or tension just yesterday.
But they had.
And Orion's body reminded him of it with every step.
He adjusted his pack, shifted the weight on his shoulder, and glanced back at his team.
Tyrunt walked ahead with his usual scowl, tail swishing in short arcs. He wasn't tracking anything this morning, just walking—until something caught his interest.
Grotle moved behind Orion at a slower pace, his massive body quiet and deliberate. He barely rustled the brush anymore. There was a stillness to him now, like a boulder that had learned to walk.
Shinx trotted in lazy arcs between the trees, occasionally darting after a beetle or small bird, more curious than hungry.
They were three days from Eterna City.
And if the terrain stayed this cooperative, it might actually be just three days.
Orion didn't trust it.
But he'd take the reprieve.
The trail itself was surprisingly easy—dirt-packed and wide enough to allow two Pokémon to walk side-by-side. It followed the contours of a dry streambed, curving gently through the trees without any major obstacles.
They passed through three clearings by midmorning.
One was littered with old pawprints—likely a pack of nocturnal Pokémon, long gone.
The second had a pile of bones, half-chewed and sun-bleached. A small prey species. Nothing threatening.
The third was filled with fluttering purple leaves from a species Orion didn't recognize. Grotle trampled straight through them without so much as a flinch. Shinx tried to chase one. Tyrunt ignored them entirely.
So far, so normal.
They stopped at a flat outcrop near a moss-covered ledge, where Orion called for a short break and pulled out his field notebook.
He didn't sketch the map. He already knew where they were.
Instead, he focused on the team.
Training Summary – Day Twelve (Morning)
Tyrunt:
Responding well to redirect drills. Tail strikes still erratic. Rock-type energy needs shaping—not just raw output.
May consider target painting (visual cues) for Stealth Rock placement in structured combat.
Grotle:
Weight distribution adapting to terrain. Reactive posture holding steady during passive pressure. Absorb response increased after midday feeding yesterday—possible solar scaling?
Shinx:
Ambush bite now consistently tied to shock timing. Still lacks discipline post-strike—tends to linger for validation. Introduce recovery whistle cue.
Team cohesion improving without overt "teamwork" training. Relying on spacing, roles, and terrain instinct instead. Ideal.
He paused.
Tucked the notebook away.
Then looked over at Grotle—who was lying half in sunlight, eyes half-lidded, chewing on something that looked like a root he'd personally decided was delicious and medicinal.
"You've definitely grown into that armor, haven't you?" Orion said, half under his breath.
Grotle didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
Because Orion could see it now, plain as day.
The shell had hardened even more in the last forty-eight hours—expanded at the ridges, thickened over the spine. His legs were heavier, but not slower. Just denser. He moved like someone who didn't need to run—he just needed to be in the way.
Champion pedigree, no doubt.
Orion had suspected as much since the night he'd cracked that black market Poké Ball open. But now there was no room for skepticism.
This wasn't a normal Grotle.
This was the kind that could stop a charge from a full-grown Luxray and come out with a scuff, not a scar.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the thin silver whistle he'd started using a few days ago.
Gave it one long, low note.
Grotle stood.
Just like that.
Orion cracked a rare smile.
"Still you in there."
The afternoon was warmer. Dustier.
They crossed a shallow ravine around midday, using a naturally fallen log as a makeshift bridge. Shinx sprinted across it like a daredevil. Tyrunt walked across like it was his birthright. Grotle took five minutes and left deep impressions with each step.
Orion didn't complain.
He liked seeing the difference in pace.
It reminded him of the way they fit now—not in unison, but like pieces in a machine.
Not harmony.
Function.
And function would win battles.
They trained again before sunset.
Nothing too heavy. Just reaction drills and directional response.
Tyrunt practiced quick pivot-to-Bite bursts, hitting padded logs Orion had rigged with hanging moss.
Shinx worked on pouncing without shocking everything in a three-meter radius.
Grotle practiced the world's slowest sidestep around Orion while being pelted with pinecones as a proxy for dodging. He was absolutely unfazed. One pinecone bounced off his head. He didn't blink.
"You're going to be a nightmare for fast attackers," Orion muttered. "No flash, no fire—just a wall that walks."
Grotle blinked slowly, then bit into another root.
"You're the only creature I've ever met who intimidates me while eating salad."
They made camp just before dark in a hollow sheltered by rock and thick tree cover. There was no need for fire tonight—the air held just enough warmth, and the sky had cleared enough to let stars shine through.
Orion sat near the edge of the clearing, Shinx curled under his arm, warm and sparking faintly as he snored.
Grotle was parked like a mossy outpost behind him, posture relaxed but alert.
Tyrunt remained on watch just beyond the brushline, keeping half an eye on the dark.
The quiet settled around them like a weighted blanket.
Orion looked up at the stars and exhaled.
Three days.
Then Eterna.
His second Gym match.
Roark was behind them now.
And even if that had gone smoother than expected—thanks to Tyrunt's raw aggression and his own lucky instinct—it hadn't been easy.
Eterna wouldn't be either.
Grass-types.
Trickier terrain.
And he couldn't rely on just smashing through with brute force.
He needed control now.
Coordination.
Discipline.
He needed a team, not just weapons.
And for the first time… he felt like he might have one.
Almost.
Probably.
Eventually.
But for tonight, they had distance behind them.
A plan in front of them.
And nothing trying to eat them in the middle.
Which, for this world, was as close to peace as it got