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The radiant blue aura spiraled tighter in Kael's palm, thin streams of pale wind shedding outward as if peeled from the sphere itself.
The aura followed a rhythm not mechanical, not physical—
—but something born from the mind.
Each pulse sent orderly waves rolling into the air, expanding and contracting like a living breath.
The glowing mass swelled steadily, growing to the size of a basketball.
Kael's awareness brushed across the battlefield.
Grumpig's unique aura signature unmistakable, chaotic, strained—
Was perceived.
Understood.
Locked.
Kael's thick, rock-hard right arm never fully aligned with Grumpig's position.
Instead, he simply pushed upward gently toward the sky.
HUM.
A sharp, crystalline resonance rang out, like countless blades of wind colliding at once.
The azure sphere detached from his palm and surged forward, accelerating smoothly, not violently, like a guided missile released from its launch rail.
Aura was a strange force.
Neither fully physical nor entirely intangible.
It could remain invisible, folded into the fabric of the world—
Or blaze brilliantly when shaped by will.
The difference lay not in the energy itself, but in the one who commanded it.
Among those known in ancient legends as Aura users, such power had been refined into countless forms.
That adaptability was why, even though Aura Sphere existed as a standardized technique in the Pokémon world, it could still be endlessly customized by those who truly understood it.
And Kael was already doing exactly that.
This battle had only one target.
So he didn't split the sphere.
Didn't disperse its force.
He compressed everything to focus on speed, impact over spectacle.
With the surrounding space already sealed and Aura Sphere's natural tracking in effect, there was no need to waste energy increasing velocity.
Damage was the priority.
Even with Kael's limited experience wielding aura, the optimization was instinctive.
Given time—
he could sharpen the sphere into a piercing lance for armored opponents like Nidoking or Rhyperior…
Or expand it into a crushing wave for amorphous, resilient targets like Muk or Swalot.
The possibilities were endless.
But that was for the future.
For now—
this was enough.
The blue sphere advanced, trailing fragmented wisps of pale wind, moving straight toward Grumpig in the sky.
"Not that fast."
"I can dodge it!"
Grumpig's black eyes flared with sudden confidence.
The aura sphere radiated intense danger, but its speed wasn't overwhelming.
Using precise psychokinesis, Grumpig wrapped its round body in dense psychic force—
—and shot sideways in a blur.
Relief flashed across its mind.
Then—
its heart dropped.
"What…?"
The blue sphere curved.
It turned.
Like something alive, it adjusted its trajectory and pursued.
Shock twisted Grumpig's expression as it forced another evasive maneuver, then another—
whoosh—whoosh—hum—
The sound of psychic flight clashed with the clean resonance of aura as both cut through the air.
Grumpig moved wildly, erratically, darting in ways no normal attack could predict.
But the sphere never hesitated.
It followed the optimal path every time.
Each dodge only brought it closer.
Desperation bloomed.
"…It's over."
The gentle blue glow reflected in Grumpig's dark pupils, staining them with calm, merciless light.
In a final act of resistance, it thrust both hands forward.
The air blurred.
An invisible psychic barrier rose between it and the approaching sphere.
It shattered instantly.
The sound was sharp and brittle like glass breaking.
The next moment—
the aura sphere engulfed Grumpig completely.
BOOM—
A thunderous detonation rolled through the forest canopy.
A massive shockwave erupted outward, branches whipping violently as leaves and debris were torn free and flung skyward.
Within the fading roar, a blood-soaked, round body could be seen tumbling downward—
THUD.
Grumpig struck the ground, carving a shallow crater into the earth.
It wasn't dead.
Not yet.
In the most literal sense—
it had one breath left.
No finishing blow was needed.
The aura sphere's internal destruction had already ravaged its body beyond recovery organs shattered, energy pathways collapsed, structure broken from within.
Whether five seconds passed…
or three…
death was inevitable.
The only reason Grumpig remained conscious at all was its powerful psychic mind, stubbornly clinging to awareness.
And that awareness—
was a curse.
Pain flooded every corner of its being.
Not sharp, not explosive—
but constant.
As if countless needles were piercing every nerve, every muscle fiber, every inch of skin.
Its facial muscles no longer responded.
Its eyes were unfocused, drowned in darkness.
Memories surfaced like drifting slides.
The red-tinged moon on the night it was born…
The screams and crushed flesh from training its psychic power…
And finally—
that gentle, brilliant blue light.
At the very end—
deep within Grumpig's mental space—
a twisted, corrupted shadow began to dissolve.
A presence soaked in malice, rot, and obsession—
faded.
As it vanished, clarity returned.
The dull, lifeless haze in Grumpig's eyes lifted.
For the first time since infection—
there was peace.
At the instant its life slipped away,
the mind of the Psychic-type Pokémon—
freed from the Nightmare Seed—
awoke.
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