When the Elder Butterfree's gaze met Bell's, an unspoken understanding passed between them—mutual concern.
"You—"
"Elder—"
They spoke simultaneously, then fell silent. The Elder was the first to move, gliding to Bell's side.
"Are your injuries healed?"
Bell knew what he meant.
"Elder… I was never hurt. I just… didn't want to breed."
Guilt tinged his voice. He didn't know how the Elder would react, but keeping the lie felt wrong—especially now, seeing the Elder battered and wounded.
"I knew."
The Elder's eyes softened.
As a Psychic far surpassing Bell's level, how could it not see through the act?
But it had let the charade continue—to understand Bell's true intentions.
Now, it saw a reflection of its younger self in him.
Yet…
A deep sigh escaped the Elder.
"What's wrong, Elder? Is it really… mandatory?"
Bell asked cautiously.
The Elder didn't answer.
The clan had just survived a disaster. It had duties.
With a flap of its wings, the Elder rose above the swarm, amplifying its voice with Psychic.
"This disaster, we endured. For those we lost… we mourn. But the future remains bright!"
A simple speech, but it carried weight.
The Butterfree responded with tired cheers—not enthusiastic, but reassured.
That was the Elder's authority.
Next came the grim task: clearing the battlefield.
Spearow corpses littered the ground. Notably, none had been eaten by their kin.
Even predators had standards.
Then, Bell's breath hitched.
Among the fallen Butterfree were Spearow he'd slain—too few compared to those who'd escaped with their spoils.
The sight reignited his resolve.
Only the strong survive. The weak perish.
"The Elder awaits you in the canopy."
The guide Butterfree's voice snapped Bell from his thoughts.
Turning, Bell nodded. "Understood. Thank you."
He respected this elder—second only to the Elder Butterfree in level—who'd fought at the frontlines.
Once the guide left, Bell ascended to the canopy.
The Elder's eyes were closed—resting?
Bell waited.
Minutes passed before the Elder finally stirred.
"You came…"
Its voice was weary.
The battle had taken its toll. Yet even in sleep, its senses remained sharp—attuned to malice.
Bell's harmless presence had gone unnoticed.
"Elder. You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. About the gathering."
A heavy pause.
Bell's stomach dropped.
Not the mating thing again—
"Relax. Participation is optional—so long as you maintain your strength."
The Elder's antennae drooped.
"But the gathering was interrupted. Our breeding cycle… is at risk."
Bell understood the concern, but not why he was involved.
"You refuse to breed, yet the gathering must proceed—for the clan's future."
"With the Spearow threat lingering, I need you to infiltrate the gathering… as its shield."
The Elder's gaze drifted toward the horizon—where the Spearow had fled.
Bell followed its stare.
They'll return.
Of course they would. A predator pack always hunted again.
And for Spearow, Butterfree were ideal prey—a natural dynamic, unavoidable.
"Me? A shield?"
Bell almost laughed.
Level 20 against a Spearow swarm? He could barely protect himself!
The Elder chuckled.
"During the attack, your leadership saved lives. Even I couldn't have rallied them so swiftly."
When the Spearow retreated, the three Fearow battling the Elder had disengaged—letting it witness Bell's miraculous defense.
"So…?"
Bell hesitated.
The Elder's voice grew solemn.
"When the Spearow return, I need you to organize the younger Butterfree. Minimize casualties."
Silence.
Then—
"I'll do it."
Seeing the Elder's exhaustion, Bell couldn't refuse.
And truthfully?
He liked the idea.
Commanding Pokémon in battle?
It felt like being a Trainer again.
So what if I'm a Butterfree now?
I can still strategize like a champion.
~(￣▽￣~)~