The sky over Route 5 was a clean blue, dotted with drifting clouds. The rain had long passed, leaving behind a crisp breeze and a sense of crity in the air.

  Rhea walked ahead on the dirt path, map in one hand, Froakie resting on her shoulder. Skye circled overhead zily, enjoying the light winds. Beside her, Benoit jogged with a bounce in his step, a bright grin on his face.

  Trailing slightly behind him—but closer than he had the day before—was Riolu.

  No Poké Ball.

  Just presence.

  His posture had changed since the storm. His steps were still cautious, but now they had intent. He wasn’t just following Benoit. He was walking with him.

  “Morning patrol, complete,” Benoit said, saluting Rhea dramatically. “Our emotional wolf-boy is still with us. That makes three wins this week.”

  “You're still calling him that?” Rhea asked.

  “It’s affectionate.”

  Riolu narrowed his eyes but didn’t object.

  Benoit grinned and turned toward him. “Ready?”

  He pulled out a Poké Ball. Simple, standard issue. Clean.

  He knelt, offering it gently.

  “No pressure,” he said. “We’re already a team. This is just to make it official.”

  Riolu looked at the ball.

  Then at Benoit.

  And then, without hesitation, he tapped it.

  The capsule clicked shut, glowed, then faded.

  Benoit stared at it, speechless.

  Rhea folded her arms, smiling slightly. “Well?”

  Benoit stood up, chest puffed like he’d just caught a legendary. “I have a Riolu. I am unstoppable.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “It’s already there.”

  Later – Route to Cylge CityThe path west stretched long and wild between lush cliffs and scattered rivers. A steep drop opened to the sea far off to the left, waves glittering in the afternoon sun. Wild Pokémon moved quietly in the brush—some fleeing, some curious.

  They were three days into their journey toward Cylge City, where the second Gym—and its Rock-type Leader, Grant—waited.

  The terrain was harsher here, which meant more training.

  They stopped to rest beneath a rge, wind-bent tree. Rhea had her notebook open, reviewing Rock-type weaknesses. Benoit tossed berries to Zigzagoon and Riolu, who now trained side by side. Froakie practiced evasive dashes with Skye acting as an aerial obstacle.

  “Think you’re ready for a Rock Gym?” Rhea asked.

  “I’m bringing chaos,” Benoit replied.

  “Grant’s Pokémon bring boulders.”

  “…I’ll bring fast chaos.”

  They were just starting to pack up when Rhea felt it.

  The air shifted.

  Still.

  Controlled.

  Too quiet.

  Her head snapped toward the treeline.

  Three figures stepped out from the shadowed grove—two in bck uniforms, familiar insignias on their sleeves.

  Order of Apex.

  And one in the center—taller. Not Recruit-level.

  This one was polished. His coat was clean. His boots reflected the sunlight. He didn’t smile, didn’t speak.

  The emblem on his chest was silver-lined.

  A higher rank.

  Rhea’s fingers twitched toward her Poké Balls.

  The silver-emblem Apex stepped forward.

  “You’re the girl with the Greninja-line,” he said. “Rhea Arden.”

  Benoit stiffened. “How do you know her name?”

  “We watch our competition,” the Apex member replied calmly.

  Rhea’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not your competition.”

  “Not yet.”

  He paused.

  “But you could be.”

  The other two Apex members fnked him. One held a tablet. The other already had a Poké Ball in hand.

  “We’ve studied your battles. Your style is efficient. Predictive. Calcuted. But you’ve also shown emotional variance. Human error. That’s a weakness, but it’s also proof of potential.”

  Rhea said nothing.

  “We don’t offer this often,” the silver-liner continued. “But you’re not like the rest of these Trainers. You don’t dream of love and friendship. You dream of mastery.”

  Rhea raised an eyebrow. “And you think you can offer that?”

  “We can offer crity,” he said. “A world not ruled by luck or sentiment—but power. Logic. Rank. You belong with us. Not beside fools who scream at Weedles.”

  Benoit’s hand clenched.

  The Apex member turned to her fully now.

  “Join us, Rhea. Rise above the system. Or stay with them—and be buried under it.”

  Silence.

  Then Rhea stepped forward.

  Eyes locked on his.

  “You want me?”

  The wind picked up, her coat fring behind her.

  “Beat me.”

  The Apex member tilted his head.

  “You’d risk your team on that?”

  “No. I’d prove who I am with it.”

  A slow smirk cracked the corner of his mouth.

  “Then we battle.”

  Battle Start: Rhea vs. Apex EliteThe two stepped forward into the clearing.

  Rhea didn’t hesitate. “Froakie, front and center.”

  Froakie nded from her shoulder, already crouched and ready.

  The Apex member pulled out a custom ball. Silver top, bck rim.

  “Let’s show her.”

  He threw it.

  A fsh of light—and a tall, hunched shape nded with a low growl.

  Pangoro.

  Dark/Fighting. Massive. Fast for its size. Highly resistant to normal tactics.

  Rhea’s brain fired instantly.

  Froakie is faster, but light. If he gets hit once, it’s over. I need to control the fight before he closes the gap.

  “Froakie—Bubble wide spread, then pull left!”

  Bubbles exploded in a thick burst. Pangoro swatted through them easily, but it slowed.

  “Circle!” Rhea shouted.

  Froakie moved, spinning around to fnk.

  “Pangoro—Arm Thrust, counter sweep,” the Apex member ordered.

  The big Pokémon turned, smmed both arms outward—earth shattered in its wake.

  Froakie jumped, barely clearing it.

  “Pound!” Rhea called.

  Froakie flipped, smmed his palm down on Pangoro’s skull—

  It barely flinched.

  Then roared.

  “Retreat!” Rhea snapped.

  Froakie leapt—but not fast enough.

  A giant paw smmed into him mid-air.

  He crashed into the dirt with a gasp.

  Skye screeched from above.

  Benoit flinched. “No—!”

  Rhea stepped forward.

  I need pressure. I need speed. I need air.

  “Skye—GO!”

  Fletchling shot down like a missile.

  “Quick Attack!”

  Skye blurred in, striking Pangoro's face once—then again from the side—then up.

  Keep moving. Keep it confused.

  “Pangoro—Bullet Punch! Mid-air!”

  Too te.

  Skye twisted—dodged—then dove—

  “Peck—center mass!”

  Wings folded, she dove in a spiral—

  And drove her beak into Pangoro’s chest.

  It stumbled—

  Dropped—

  Fell.

  Dust rose.

  Silence.

  Then the Apex ref raised a hand.

  “Pangoro is unable to battle.”

  Rhea lowered her hand.

  Calm. Breath steady.

  But her heart raced.

  The Apex elite stared at her.

  Then at Skye.

  Then back again.

  Finally, he returned his Pokémon.

  “You’re not ready,” he said.

  “Neither are you,” Rhea replied.

  His mouth tightened.

  “Let’s go,” he said to his team.

  They vanished into the woods without another word.

  After the BattleRhea sat against the same tree they’d trained under.

  Skye curled under her coat. Froakie sat beside her, bruised but okay.

  Benoit paced, arms crossed, Riolu at his heels.

  “Why’d you provoke them?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “They offered you power.”

  “And I refused. But I made sure they knew why.”

  Benoit stopped pacing.

  “You scared them.”

  “Not enough,” Rhea muttered. “They’ll be back.”

  He sat beside her.

  “We’ll be ready.”

  Riolu looked at both of them, then silently pced his paw in Froakie’s.

  And the team sat there in the fading light.

  Not just partners.

  But protectors.

  Of each other—and of what they believed in.