The wind carried the smell of smoke and scorched stone.
Where once Ravios's market district bustled with laughter and life, now only rubble and ruin remained. Guards moved in silence, shifting debris, pulling injured civilians from the remains of shattered buildings. The air was thick with ash and grief.
In the makeshift medical ward set up in a cleared square, Ren sat on a wooden bench, one leg bandaged, his shoulder wrapped tightly in linen. Beside him, Lucario stood quietly, arms crossed, but Ren could feel its fatigue even in silence.
Across from him, Mila lay on a cot, her arm in a sling. Gardevoir sat beside her, leaning gently against its Trainer's side.
"You should be resting," Mila said softly.
"I am," Ren replied, though his body was still coiled tight with tension.
"You look like you're trying to memorize the names of everyone who got hurt."
Ren didn't answer. His eyes were distant, staring at the stone tiles scorched black from Hyper Beam.
"...You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Mila asked.
Ren looked up, the muscles in his jaw flexing.
"She was watching," he said quietly. "Seris. She saw me use Aura."
Mila tilted her head. "So? It saved lives."
"It means I'll be on their radar now."
Mila reached out and placed a gentle hand on his. "You were already on it."
He blinked, surprised.
"You're Ren. You've been the strongest in our year since we arrived. They were always watching. The difference now is " she smiled, " they'll start listening, too."
Ren didn't smile back, but he gave a soft nod of thanks.
Nearby, a group of knights pulled a collapsed vendor's cart off the cobbles. Children clung to their parents. People were rebuilding already but the air was different. Tense. Alert.
The red-eyed Pokémon were no longer rumors.
They were here.
---
Ravelle Castle – Citadel Tower
Far to the east of Ravios, within the high-walled capital fortress of Ravelle, torches flickered in iron sconces and banners swayed quietly in the vaulted stone hall.
At the center of the high command chamber stood a round war table, carved from dark marble. Around it were gathered three figures.
One was Lord Commander Godric Drenne broad-shouldered, clad in gold-plated armor, his beard silver and trimmed, a scar down his cheek a remnant of wars long past.
Another was Lady Ines Ravelle, the King's sister and acting regent during the monarch's absence. She was dressed in robes of deep violet, eyes sharp as glass, fingers drumming the table.
And lastly Commander Seris.
She stood at attention, one gauntlet resting lightly on the hilt of her blade, cloak still dusted from battle.
"You're certain?" Godric asked, voice low.
"Without doubt," Seris replied. "Corrupted. Beyond natural behavior. It shrugged off elemental weaknesses and took on at least seven trained Pokémon at once."
She placed a scroll of battlefield reports on the table. "Crimson eyes. Abnormal veins. Incredible aggression. Intelligence distorted. Pain ignored."
"Sounds like a weapon," Godric muttered.
"It wasn't a wild beast," Seris said. "It was engineered."
Lady Ines leaned forward. "And you said this is the fourth such sighting?"
"Fourth confirmed," Seris replied. "There are unconfirmed sightings in northern Obelia and far east of Soldris Peak."
Godric looked grim. "This goes beyond wild Pokémon rampaging."
"They were being pushed," Seris said. "There's something behind it. Some kind of corruption ..psychic or otherwise. Possibly dimensional."
Lady Ines's brow furrowed. "Dimensional… You mean like the old legends?"
Seris met her gaze. "The otherwordly Beasts."
Godric scoffed. "Those are fairy tales."
"No, they're not," Ines said slowly, her voice suddenly distant. "The Royal Archives mention a battle… in the center of Elvaris. The Deadlands. The Arceus sealed something away there."
"And if something is trying to unseal it…" Seris added.
Silence fell over the room.
"We need to increase patrols," Seris said firmly. "The academy students are also at risk. That Tyranitar was only steps from their territory."
"Agreed," Godric muttered. "We'll reinforce with three full squads from the west and south."
Lady Ines turned toward the large map dominating the far wall. It was Elvaris in full the circular continent, the Deadlands at its heart, three kingdoms stitched into its edges.
"If the corruption spreads further into Ravelle… we'll need more than knights."
Seris nodded. "There's one more thing."
She reached into her coat and retrieved a sealed scroll.
"I've filed for provisional recruitment of Ren . Second-year cadet. Demonstrated synchronized Aura channeling with his Lucario."
Godric's eyes narrowed. "Aura user?"
"Confirmed. Subtle, but controlled. He's powerful. Calm under pressure. He has potential."
Lady Ines took the scroll. "And he's a commoner?"
"From Riverleaf," Seris confirmed.
Godric scowled. "We're not in the habit of handing out blades to farmers."
Seris replied coldly. "If you'd seen what I saw, you'd know he doesn't need one handed to him. He already forged his."
Ines looked thoughtful. "Then we'll watch him closely."
---
The sound of boots echoed softly across obsidian stone.
A low hum filled the air barely audible, like the sigh of something ancient beneath the earth. The room was lit only by faint blue crystals embedded in the walls, casting unnatural light across black pillars carved with forgotten runes.
In the center stood a pool of shimmering liquid mirror-like and silent.
The robed man stepped toward it, his white cloak flickering in the light, his boots crunching gently on the gravel-like floor. Beside him, his Alakazam floated silently, arms crossed in meditation.
The mirror rippled.
And the voice came.
"You failed."
The man knelt. "Tyranitar was subdued. Commander Seris arrived. We didn't anticipate her response time."
"She cut down the beast herself?"
"With her Gallade. It was surgical."
A long pause.
"Did the corruption hold?"
"Yes," the man replied, head bowed. "Even against multiple opponents. It endured direct hits from aura attacks and high-impact moves. The corruption resisted weakness. The body endured."
"Then it was not a failure."
The Apostle's voice was calm but cold.
The liquid shifted, forming the vague shape of a figure cloaked in light. The robed man didn't dare look up.
"What of the boy?"
"Ren... a commoner student … engaged the Tyranitar. Successfully used aura techniques through his Lucario. Stronger than anticipated."
"Then he must be monitored. The more the world adapts, the more it threatens us."
The figure flickered slightly, as if struggling against distortion.
The Apostle's tone sharpened. "Begin the next phase."
"Yes, Apostle," the man whispered.
"I want another beast released. One further east. We'll draw them out, force them to spread their resources."
"And if the knights intervene again?"
"Let them. They are swords shiny, but brittle."
The mirror went still.
The man stood, slowly turning to his Alakazam. It raised one hand, psychic energy humming between its fingers.
With a blink of violet light, they vanished.
---
Back in Ravios, the sky had begun to darken.
Clean-up efforts had cleared much of the market district. Broken buildings were being reinforced with timber scaffolding, and soldiers patrolled with stern faces and heavier gear. Whispers of the crimson-eyed Tyranitar ran rampant, some exaggerated, others understated but no one doubted the fear anymore.
Inside the academy's medical wing, Ren sat in silence.
He was seated by the window, gazing out at the quiet training fields beyond. His arm was freshly bandaged again, but the rest of his injuries had begun to fade. Lucario sat beside him, unmoving.
"Still hurting?" a voice asked from the doorway.
Ren turned and immediately straightened.
Commander Seris stood there, her expression unreadable as always .
"No," Ren said. "I'm fine."
She stepped inside, her cloak rustling behind her. Her Gallade didn't follow this time. It seemed… unnecessary.
"Good," she said. "Because I didn't come here to check on your bruises."
Ren said nothing. Lucario's eyes narrowed slightly.
Seris stopped beside his bed and handed him a small envelope. The seal bore the symbol of the Ravelle military sword, shield, and star.
Ren opened it slowly.
His eyes scanned the parchment.
"...Provisional recruitment," he murmured.
"To the Royal Knight Corps," Seris confirmed. "As an auxiliary operative."
Ren looked up, his face unreadable. "Why?"
"Because you're a rare asset. You demonstrated high-level aura channeling and combat composure against a threat that outclassed you. You fought anyway. You saved lives."
Ren gripped the letter tightly. "So that's it? You hand me this, and I'm a soldier now?"
"No," Seris said calmly. "You have a choice. Accept it, and you'll train under elite supervision. Be deployed only when necessary. Decline, and your life continues as it has at the academy."
Ren's jaw tightened.
"I'm not forcing you. But you should know… the corruption isn't going away. And Ravelle will need more than swords."
Ren said nothing for a long moment.
Then he set the letter on the table beside him and leaned forward.
"I don't want to be anyone's tool."
"You wouldn't be," Seris said. "You'd be the edge of the blade."
She turned to leave, pausing only briefly.
"You have three days to decide. The next strike… won't be as contained."
She stepped out of the room.
Ren stared down at the envelope.
Lucario placed a paw gently on his shoulder.