The moment the receptionist led Arlo and Maria through the winding path of Nouveau Table's grand interior, they stepped into a world of refined luxury and sensory marvels. Every detail whispered exclusivity—from the soft ambient glow of floating lights resembling distant stars to the rich, otherworldly scent of spices from universes unknown.
"Welcome, Mr. Leeroy," Aria greeted as they entered the private dining room. She rose from her seat with effortless grace, her sharp eyes glimmering with pride. "Just in time. We've been waiting."
The long, polished table stretched before them, surrounded by a mix of familiar and new faces. Damir Caskgrog, with his grizzled red beard and thick forearms, gave Arlo a toothy grin. Amelia Bloom, draped in a deep-blue shawl, raised her glass in acknowledgment.
Arlo cleared his throat, the weight of their gazes making him feel like a mouse at a lion's banquet.
"Glad I didn't keep you too long." He gestured to his companion. "Everyone, this is Maria Claudes."
Maria beamed and gave a little wave. "Pleasure to meet you all."
Aria's eyes narrowed briefly before softening into a smile. "Maria... I remember now. The talented alchemist from the Alchemist Association. Quite the reputation for innovation in potion synthesis."
"You're too kind," Maria replied, slightly flustered but clearly delighted by the recognition.
As they took their seats, Arlo whispered, "You're famous? You never mentioned."
Maria shrugged. "Didn't think it mattered."
Before Arlo could respond, Damir leaned in and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "An official Pioneer now, eh? Good work, lad. You earned it."
Arlo winced under the blacksmith's iron grip. "Thanks, Damir. Though I'm not sure my ribs did."
Amelia chuckled softly. "Don't mind him. He's just showing affection the only way he knows."
"Breaking bones?" Arlo muttered.
Aria watched the exchange with a rare, amused smirk before clearing her throat. "I'd like to make introductions before the meal begins." She gestured to a lean man with sharp features and calm blue eyes. "This is Roy Herbert, our vice guildmaster."
Roy inclined his head, his demeanor calm and composed. "A pleasure to meet you, Arlo. Aria's told me much about you."
Next, a pink-haired girl with electric-blue eyes waved enthusiastically. "Chloe Ramon! And yes, I've been dying to meet a fellow trainee under Aria. Aria says you're full of surprises."
"I hope they were good surprises," Arlo replied, offering a sheepish grin.
"Mostly," Chloe teased.
As the introductions continued, Arlo found himself shaking hands with the rest of Aria's guild—a diverse group of specialists, each radiating unique energy. Piper Wood's calculating gaze and short black hair screamed IT genius, while Wyatt Anderson's long silver mane and mysterious air made him seem straight out of a fantasy epic. Otis Brown towered like a human tank, his dark skin gleaming under the soft lights, and Orson Carter gave off a rogue's vibe, his dark aesthetic punctuated by sharp eyes that missed nothing.
Then there was Kane Reed. His aura felt... natural. Powerful. A sense of the wild radiated from him, enhanced by the impressive team of Pokémon at his side. Link, curious but cautious, yipped softly before stepping forward. Clefable, Kane's pink-furred companion, smiled and offered a paw. Link sniffed, tail wagging cautiously, before bumping his paw in return. The ice broken, the Pokémon began mingling.
Arlo chuckled as Clefable led Link toward the rest. "Looks like he's found friends already."
"They'll be good for each other," Kane said, his voice calm but resonant. "Clefable's always had a soft spot for newcomers."
The room filled with the hum of conversation and laughter, a celebration in full swing. For a moment, Arlo let the joy of success wash over him. He wasn't just a survivor anymore—he was a Pioneer.
***
Kane extended his hand toward Arlo with a confident grin.
"Kane Reed, member of Trailblazer and certified nature enthusiast," he said, his handshake firm. His dark green eyes gleamed with the sharp intelligence of someone who had seen too many worlds to count.
Arlo shook his hand, feeling the callouses of a man accustomed to hard work. "Arlo Leeroy, new pioneer, professional chaos survivor," he replied with a smirk.
Kane chuckled. "I've heard about your exploits. That whole Gabriel incident—it's got people talking. Your name's making the rounds faster than a Dodrio on a sugar rush."
Arlo raised an eyebrow, curious. His eyes shifted toward the formidable Pokémon surrounding Kane. "Speaking of speed, these are yours?" He gestured toward the towering Garchomp and the elegant Milotic. "I didn't think we'd see Pokémon in a place like this. Why do you have them?" He wasn't just making small talk—there was a deeper curiosity gnawing at him.
Kane crossed his arms, pride flickering in his expression. "Pokémon are unique in the Omniverse. They adapt to every world's rules. In a Fantasy Universe, they're magical beasts. In a sci-fi universe, they're advanced bio-engineered life forms. It's all thanks to the Pokémon Association's research into adaptability of Pokémon in different universes." He gave a sly smile. "It's why pioneers love them—useful everywhere, and loyal to boot."
Arlo processed this with a thoughtful nod. He couldn't help but wonder: If the head of the Pokémon Association was from his universe, what did that mean for him? Could he have more connections than he realized? Before he could pursue the thought further, Kane nudged him lightly. "Aria's calling," he said, snapping Arlo out of his musings.
Arlo shook off the haze. "Right. Let's go."
Together, they walked toward the long table where the celebration was set to begin.
Seated between Maria and Aria, Arlo felt a strange mix of anticipation and gratitude. Aria stood, her commanding presence drawing everyone's attention. "We gather tonight to celebrate my trainee, Arlo Leeroy," she began. Her voice, though calm, carried the weight of authority and pride.The room stilled as she continued. "As my guide once did for me, it's my honor to welcome Arlo into the ranks of Pioneers . He has not only passed his trials but exceeded my expectations."
Arlo felt a warmth in his chest at her words. Surpassing expectations? He glanced sideways at Maria, who smiled encouragingly.Aria reached into her pocket and produced a small, silver pin shaped like a peregrine falcon in flight. She affixed it to Arlo's lapel. "This symbol represents freedom, determination, and the relentless pursuit of excellence. It ties you not just to me but to every guide who came before. This is the Advena Falcis Lineage—a legacy passed down from the First Founder of Our Lineage." She smiled, pulling him into a brief but firm hug. The room erupted in applause, Maria clapping enthusiastically.
Damir Caskgrog's deep laugh rang out. "You've earned it, boy! You made us all proud."
Amelia Bloom nodded approvingly. "The lineage grows stronger with each new pioneer," she said, her gaze sharp and knowing.
Maria leaned closer to Arlo, her eyes gleaming with pride. "You did it, Arlo! Official Pioneer. Who'd have thought?" He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm still trying to figure out how I survived it all."
Chloe grinned across the table. "Surviving is the first step. Now comes the fun part—chaos with a purpose!" She lifted her glass in a mock toast."Chaos with a purpose, huh?"
Arlo smirked, lifting his own. "Sounds like a fancy way to say 'trouble.'" The guild erupted into laughter, their camaraderie tangible.
Damir raised his mug, his deep voice booming. "Trouble's where legends are made, boy! Don't shy away from it." As they settled into their seats,
Arlo turned to Aria. "Okay, I've got to ask. What's with the whole 'lineage of pioneers' thing? Is it ceremonial, or does it actually mean something?"
Maria's eyes widened at the question. "Arlo it is a tradition in the HUB from that dates back from the very first pioneers who arrive at the HUB"
The entire table chuckled, clearly amused. Aria raised a hand to quiet them. "I knew this would come up. It always does." She fixed Arlo with a knowing smile. "The lineage is both symbolic and practical. In the early days of the HUB, there were no records, no centralized knowledge banks. Pioneers passed down their experiences through oral or written tradition—from guide to trainee."
Damir leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with the weight of experience as he continued, "See, back in the earliest days of the HUB, pioneers didn't have all this fancy tech to log every quest, mistake, or discovery. There were no BrainLinks or data matrices. It was raw survival. Every victory was hard-won knowledge, and every death was a lesson lost forever. So, pioneers relied on oral or witten tradition, passing down stories, techniques, and warnings from master to apprentice." He gestured broadly, his large hands painting pictures in the air. "Imagine a time when every monster, every world-jump, was an unknown. A single guide could mean the difference between life and oblivion. Knowledge wasn't just power—it was currency, survival, and legacy. That's how lineages formed—groups bound by shared learning and trust, not bloodlines."
Arlo listened intently, his mind spinning with the implications. So, the first pioneers were more like nomadic tribes of adventurers, sharing hard-earned wisdom around campfires. It struck a chord deep within him—an unspoken kinship with those long-forgotten trailblazers.
Damir continued, "As the HUB evolved, records and technology replaced word-of-mouth knowledge. You've got archives, virtual training, simulations. But some things…" He tapped the side of his temple. "Some things don't transfer through data. Instincts. Judgment. The feel of a world when it's about to turn on you. That's why lineages still matter."
Aria nodded. "And why this pin," she touched the peregrine falcon on her chest, "represents more than just ceremony. It's a reminder. You're part of a living legacy now. Every triumph and mistake you make contributes to something far greater than yourself."
Arlo felt the weight of her words settle in his chest, the symbolic falcon seeming to pulse with unseen gravity. A living library of experiences. Mistakes. Victories. Failures. He glanced around the table, seeing the pride and respect in the eyes of those who had walked the same path before him. "So... it's about learning from those who came before," he said, the realization clicking into place.
"Exactly," Amelia confirmed. "And one day, when you've survived long enough, you'll be the one passing it on." Arlo smirked. "Assuming I survive long enough."
Chloe grinned mischievously. "Pressure makes diamonds, remember?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Or cracks the coal. We'll see."
As laughter rippled through the room, he reflected on how this simple tradition bridged centuries of growth and change. What began as a necessity had become a rite of passage—an unbroken chain of wisdom stretching back to the very first steps in the HUB. Even now, in a world of infinite data and digital clarity, some truths still lived in stories, in people, and in moments like these.
***
Silver-domed platters arrived in a steady, synchronized rhythm, each one carried by servers moving with a precision that bordered on choreography. As the covers lifted, the tantalizing aroma of expertly roasted meats and spices filled the air. Roast chicken, its skin golden and crisp, was paired with herb-infused potatoes. Beef, marbled with fat, rested in a pool of fragrant jus.But the exotic fare stole the show. Dishes that defied expectation and logic sat arranged with artistic flair. A dish of neon-blue seaweed entwined with luminous pearls of fish roe resembled a galaxy on a plate. Something that looked like translucent petals of ice lay atop steaming rock slabs, crackling softly. A fine-dining masterpiece of gelatin cubes, glistening like polished gems, quivered delicately.
Arlo raised an eyebrow. Food or magic artifact? This place makes Iron Chef look like a backyard barbecue.He skewered a slice of the icy petal. The flavor erupted in layers: sharp like citrus at first, then mellowing to a rich, buttery sweetness that lingered on his tongue. His eyes widened. "Okay, this... this is dangerously good." A second bite followed, this one of a tender purple protein with a smoky, umami punch. "Heaven. Absolute heaven." Glancing to his side, he caught Aria mid-bite. Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parting in a quiet sigh of bliss. She chewed slowly, savoring each flavor, her face flushed with what could only be described as pure indulgence.She looks like a protagonist in a food anime about to ascend to nirvana.
When she opened her eyes and caught him staring, she raised a brow. "What?"
"Nothing." He smirked. "Just enjoying the show." Meanwhile, Link had claimed a rack of ribs, gnawing with a vigor that sent his tail into a rhythmic thumping frenzy. Nearby, Kane's Clefable balanced a delicate spoon of glowing fruit in her paws, her smile of delight lighting up the table. Milotic elegantly flicked her tail as she nibbled at silver-scaled fish with all the grace of royalty.The Pokémon feast mirrored their human companions' joy. Even the most battle-hardened among them were momentarily lost in gastronomic paradise.
Arlo grinned as he dug in with renewed enthusiasm. Bites blurred together—each more exquisite than the last. It wasn't just food; it was an experience. His attention drifted toward Maria, who tore into her meal with gusto.
"Easy there," he teased. "It's not a race."
Maria chuckled, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "This place was on my bucket list for a reason, Arlo. It takes years to get a reservation. They only let top-tier Pioneers in!"
"Years?" Arlo echoed, eyes wide. He glanced at Aria. "How did you...?""Connections," she said simply, her lips curling in a secretive smile.
Note to self: Never underestimate Aria's reach.Just then, Chloe's voice rang out. "Hey, Arlo!" She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "You gonna join Big Sis Aria's guild or not?"