The sky had darkened at some point.
Just minutes earlier, sunset had painted the clouds; now, slabs of leaden cloud massed over the ruins, blotting out the last light.
The air turned damp and heavy.
Drip… drip…
Cold raindrops began to fall, pinging crisp and fast on rusty rails and metal scrap.
A sudden rain shrouded the ruins.
Jason tilted his head, letting the chill drops patter onto his jelly body. In his sesame-seed eyes, a grave look flickered.
"Rain Dance? Fancy entrance."
From the direction the Hypno had fled—out of the shadow of a toppled giant furnace—a yellow figure stepped forward, pendulum swaying.
It resembled Drowzee, but with longer limbs; a thick white ruff wrapped its neck. Its eyes weren't the dopey kind—cunning gleamed there.
It was Hypno—the evolved form of Drowzee.
Behind it, the six Hypno they'd driven off—and the shabby, fleeing Bronzong—trailed like faithful servants.
As it approached, the scene grew stranger. Above its head, the cloudbank conjured by Rain Dance began to melt away. Though evening had fallen, a patch of sky blazed bright as noon.
A beam of gold speared the clouds like a stage spotlight, shining only on the Hypno's party.
Two opposite weathers—rain and clear sun—held at once under the same sky.
The precision of that energy control made Gast's translucent body tremble. "Keh… such a powerful move," she murmured, dreamlike.
Jason nodded. The newcomer was showing off—laying down a gauntlet.
"So it was you," the Hypno finally stopped. Its sly eyes skimmed Jason, Gast, and Tinkatuff. "You're the ones who interfered with my friend while he made equipment?"
The voice wasn't loud, but rang directly in every mind with psychic force. The pressure made even Tinkatuff tighten her grip on the hammer.
Jason's eyes slid past Hypno to the Bronzong behind it. Earlier, Bronzor had sounded dismissive of this "boss" when taking spoons; now, post-evolution, it cowered like a scolded child behind Hypno.
He understood at once: this Hypno outclassed Bronzong—by a lot. Otherwise the bell wouldn't be so meek.
With no answer coming, Hypno didn't rush. It raised its pendulum; a wave pulsed out—
Psychic Terrain.
The field shifted in an instant: a faint pink-violet sheen spread across the ground; the air buzzed with factors that thrilled Psychic-types.
It swung the pendulum again.
Vmmm—
A soporific mindwave carpeted the field.
Tinkatuff and the Tinkatink, front line, glazed over at once; hammers clanged to the dirt as they fell into deep sleep. Even Gast—Ghost-typed and tough to mind-affect—lasted only seconds before a pained cry slipped out and the overwhelming psychic force pinned her in place.
In a blink, every ally but Jason was out of the fight.
Hypno squinted at the only one left standing. "You're the Ditto, aren't you?"
"My friend says you're strong."
"And your Transform seems… different from other Ditto."
Cat-and-mouse lilt in its tone. It'd heard from Bronzong that Jason wasn't normal, but trusting its own power, it felt no fear—only hunger for a challenge.
Under its terrifying control, the sleeping Tinkatink—and even the powerful Tinkatuff—turned like marionettes, empty eyes locking onto Jason. They raised their hammers in unison.
And attacked.
…
Jason eyed the circle of "new friends" closing in, unease in his gaze. Only Gast was still fighting the sleep; the others were fully puppeted. He couldn't hurt allies—so he ducked, weaving through the rain of hammer blows.
He shifted to Maushold for speed—only to find Hypno's psychic lock made escape impossible; wherever he ran, the Hypno drove the Tinkatink to box him in.
He tried Bronzor for Steel bulk—but against Tinkatuff's battle-tempered hammer, his shell crumpled like tin.
For the first time, he felt his tactics laid bare—hollow before overwhelming power.
THUD!
He didn't dodge one swing in time; a Tinkatink's hammer clipped him, staggering him.
Tinkatuff—puppeted—raised the giant hammer high. Empty eyes, no emotion; the killing blow poised to fall—
When a purple-black sphere of dense ghost energy slid out of the ruin's shadow and struck like a whisper. It hit the hammer true, blasting it from her grip.
"Who?"
Hypno snapped its head toward the entrance. For the first time, a sliver of caution flickered. With its mind saturating the field, something had approached—unnoticed.
There, a poised female silhouette stood—she didn't know when she'd arrived, but she was simply there.
Jason's eyes lit up.
"Cynthia."
Why was Cynthia in Paldea?