Two days had passed since the Fearow attack, and the academy had returned to a strange sort of normal. But for Ray and Pidgeotto, everything had changed.
Pidgeotto was healed.
Fully.
No bandages, no lingering pain. Its feathers were clean and proud, its eyes sharp with determination. The moment it took its first flight again—wings slicing through the air with newfound strength—Ray knew something deeper had settled within his partner.
Not just recovery.
Resolve.
Pidgeotto – Aptitude: Light Blue | Combat Level: 28Condition: Healthy. Emotional State: Focused. Goal-Oriented.
Ray saw it clearly: Pidgeotto hadn't forgiven itself.
It didn't matter that it evolved mid-battle.
Or that it had risked everything.
In its mind, it had failed to protect Ray… to protect Kira… and to overcome Fearow.
And it burned.
Ray felt it too. Every time he remembered Kira's voice cracking as she called to Machop, every time he thought of the pressure in the air as Fearow dove from above, something inside him demanded more.
More strength.
More control.
More understanding.
That morning, he made a quiet decision.
With a whispered promise to return in time for evening lessons, Ray and Pidgeotto slipped through the utility gate on the academy's north side.
They weren't going far. Just into the buffer zone—an area technically out of bounds for unsupervised students, but not dangerous if you knew your limits.
They did.
Or at least, they thought they did.
The edge of Elmshade Forest welcomed them with sunlight, wind, and movement. Pokémon rustled in the grass, perched on low branches, or fluttered between wildflowers. It was alive—but natural. Balanced.
Ray had mapped this section well. Most encounters fell between levels 20 and 30, a good challenge range for Pidgeotto now.
For over an hour, they trained together in silence:
A duel against a Flaaffy (Aptitude: Yellow, Level 25), its static aura making each dodge a timing test.
A fast-paced skirmish with a Raticate (Deep Orange, Level 26), where Pidgeotto's agility outmatched brute force.
A respectful spar with a territorial Teddiursa (Green, Level 29), ending when Pidgeotto refused to strike the smaller creature's cub.
Every battle was recorded in Ray's journal. He tracked movements, responses, impact.
This wasn't just combat.
This was refinement.
But then… something shifted.
As Pidgeotto finished shaking out its wings after a fight, Ray scanned the horizon—and paused.
There, in the far brush near a slight incline, something moved.
Electric-blue fur. Crisp, precise steps. A glint of light off sharp eyes.
A Luxio.
Ray's heart skipped.
It wasn't rushing, nor slinking like wild Pokémon often did. No—it moved with purpose. Calm, alert. It was guarding something.
He focused, breathing slow. Statsight activated—not as a screen or system ping, but as a shift in perception. Color layered behind his vision like painted intuition.
Luxio – Aptitude: Deep Green | Combat Level: 38
Ray stiffened.
That was way beyond this area's usual range.
He crouched, lowering his profile, and signaled Pidgeotto silently.
They moved closer.
Not charging in—observing.
Creeping through the undergrowth, Ray reached the top of the incline. Peering through a wall of ferns, he saw it.
A small clearing.
And in that clearing stood a man.
Mid-thirties, lean and weathered, wearing a vest lined with dark pockets. A black cap shadowed his eyes, and he held a small notepad, scribbling something with a gloved hand.
Beside him stood a second Pokémon.
Ray's breath caught.
A Sneasel—sleek, sharp, and utterly still.
He scanned again.
Sneasel – Combat Level: 42Aptitude: Unknown, likely Blue or higher.
Ray didn't move.
He didn't breathe.
This wasn't a casual hiker. This was someone trained. Experienced.
And then he saw it.
Behind the man, partially concealed under a tarp, was a metal cage. It was thick, locked, and humming faintly with what looked like shock panels.
Inside, barely visible through the mesh...
A Dratini.
Small. Coiled tightly. Eyes wide, skin trembling.
And glowing faintly with a hue Ray had never seen in real life.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
He focused hard, trying to remain steady as Statsight confirmed it:
Dratini – Aptitude: Purple (Core) | Combat Level: 5Condition: Newly Hatched. Stressed. Aura Fragile.
Ray's fingers clenched the earth.
Aptitude Purple.
The mythical color.
He had heard whispers. Legends. Theoretically tied to legendary bloodlines, but no one had ever proven its existence.
And now… here it was.
Caged.
Weak.
In the hands of someone who didn't belong here.
Ray ducked lower.
He didn't know who this man was, or what he wanted with a newly hatched Dratini. But everything about the scene screamed danger. Illegal captivity. Maybe worse.
Pidgeotto pressed closer to him, low and tense.
They had seen too much.
They had two choices:
Run.
Or listen.