The battlefield—where Ceruledge's killing aura had just shrunk Gast into a quivering ball—flashed with blinding white from deep inside her core.
Within that light, her round, misty-black body began to change. A new outline took shape—no longer a simple cloud, but a clear torso with two large purple hands floating free, unconnected by arms. Her eyes held not just innocence now, but a sly, impish spark.
Haunter.
When the glow faded, the evolved Gast hovered, curiously flexing her new body—especially those nimble hands. She made fists, waved them.
Yes! Miss Gast has hands now!
"Mi–waa!"
A rush of indescribable excitement surged. Her first impulse was to dart to Jason and show him how cool she was now. But when her gaze swung to him, joy snapped into alarm—she'd forgotten the danger for a heartbeat. Ceruledge was stalking closer to Jason.
Jason was in danger.
Her mind popped—excitement melted into pure fighting instinct. She threw up both hands; a tightly compressed Shadow Ball spun to life in her palm.
"You—stop right there!" she shrieked, and thrust. The orb whistled away like a black shell straight for Ceruledge's back.
Feeling the energy surge, Ceruledge halted, annoyed. It didn't even turn—just flicked a reverse slash. The purple grief-blade traced a clean arc—
Thump!
The orb met the blade with no grand explosion; it popped like a cheap balloon, cleaved clean and dissipating into stray ghostly motes.
"Oh?"
Only then did Ceruledge turn, eyes raking the newly remade Haunter. A sneer tugged its lips. "You are stronger than before. But if this is all… you're still far too weak."
The words doused her new joy. Too weak?
I evolved! Look at this dashing form—how am I weak?
She bristled—new confidence going to her head. "What do you know! I'm super strong!"
She bared her "teeth" like an angry kitten, abandoned range, and rushed in—hands spread to rake its face.
From Ceruledge's view, the reckless charge was laughable. But it bought Jason a precious breath.
"Gast—harass, don't trade!" he snapped, while his own body blurred—
Glimmet.
"Think a new look helps?" Ceruledge scoffed. It batted Gast aside, then its arm-blades blazed—Bitter Blade hacked down.
Glimmet-Jason didn't dodge. His petals snapped open; Toxic Debris primed—and a jeweled spray blasted forth—
Power Gem.
Rock shards collided with the burning blade with an ear-splitting crack. Super effective—Bitter Blade was forced back. Ceruledge staggered half a step, shock crossing its face for the first time. It eyed the Glimmet warily, snorted, and shelved fire.
Its eyes gleamed with eerie violet. Psychic power gathered.
"Psycho Cut!"
Jason was faster. As the psychic blade formed, his shape shifted again—small pink skin, and a hammer far too big for the frame:
Tinkatuff. Steel to resist Psychic.
Gong!
The invisible edge slammed into the giant mallet, ringing like a bell. Jason didn't budge—he even flashed Tinkatuff's taunting grin.
"What—?" Ceruledge faltered. What is this thing? Why can it swap forms at will—and counter me every time?
In that dazed beat, Gast—who'd been "scratching backs"—found the gap. She ghosted behind it; her long tongue snapped out, ghost energy crackling, and licked across its back.
Lick doesn't hurt much—but it can paralyze.
Ceruledge's body seized; a wash of numbness slowed every motion.
One heartbeat changes everything.
"Now!" Jason shouted. Tinkatuff-Jason vaulted, hammer haloed in Fairy-bright light, smashing down for the head—
Play Rough!
Gast matched him—another Shadow Ball, denser than before, rocketing at its legs.
With back and front crashing in—and paralysis biting—Ceruledge finally looked ragged. It roared, forced power through, and crossed its blades to guard.
BOOM!
Hammer and Shadow Ball struck almost together. Dust billowed; cracks spidered through the floor. When the air cleared, Ceruledge was still standing—but cut and gasping, its arm-blades' fire dimmer.
It glared at the mismatched pair—the hammer-toting pink runt and the face-pulling Haunter. Never had it imagined these two it'd dismissed could wound it. A fight it had all but won was now even.
Its eyes went pitch-dark; the air dropped several degrees. Killing intent poured from it like ice.
No more words; rage needed none. It crossed its burning blades and assumed a strange stance.
A heartbeat later—two, four, eight—ghostly flames identical to its bladefire bloomed from nothing, whirling around it. They elongated into energy swords, spinning faster with a keening wail—like a chorus of wraiths.
Swords Dance.
"Not good!"
Seeing the boost, Jason's warning klaxon blared. Back to Glimmet—petals snapped—another Power Gem blasted for its face, hoping to break the charge.
Too late.
The circling swords pivoted back, then dove into Ceruledge one by one. With each, its aura surged. When the last merged, its outline blurred under a mantle of rising purple fire.
Power—up.
Jason's Power Gem arrived. Ceruledge simply lifted a blade, no flourish, and cut.
Shing!
A violet slash, faster than any before. Jason and Gast saw only a purple streak.
Power Gem might as well have been glass. It shattered without a sound, dissolving into raw particles—and the slash didn't slow. It scythed on—straight at Jason and Gast.
Dodge!
The thought flashed—his body tensed to morph away—but the pressure riding that blade was like an invisible hand pinning them to the spot.
"Now you want to run? Too late."
The purple light bloomed, filling their vision—
WHAM!
Impact. Jason felt like a freight train hit him head-on. His body flew, weightless, and crashed down. Gast fared little better—her gaseous form shrugged off much of the physical shock, but the thick malice in the slash still savaged her. She screamed, spun, and tumbled hard to the floor.
Thud! Thud!
They landed almost together. Jason felt himself coming apart, a puddle on stone. He couldn't move. Gast was worse—her new Haunter form had gone thin, edges fraying wisps of black mist; those big hands hung limp.
One strike.
A simple slash after Swords Dance had launched them both.
Absolute difference in power.
Gast wobbled up. She looked at Jason, struggling to rise, then at Ceruledge, silent and oppressive in the distance.
Can't win. Not a chance. Matchups, numbers—none of it mattered in the face of that strength. Too strong—and escape? No.
Only one road left.
She drew a deep breath and made a choice. She drifted to Jason's side and looked at him—quiet.
Her voice, usually teasing and lively, was too calm. Unsettlingly so.
"Jason… if I weren't here anymore—would you miss me?"
Jason froze, mid-gasp. He lifted his head and met that serious face—and his mind stumbled.
What? Not here?
Got knocked silly?
"What are you saying? What are you going to do?"
A flicker of softness crossed her eyes, then hardened. Time was short; the enemy could attack any moment.
"Jason. Tell me." Each word was pressed and quiet—and brooked no refusal. Those eyes held him, as if burning his face into her soul.
Hearing it, seeing it—and weighing their "impossible" situation—a move flashed through Jason's mind.
Destiny Bond.
He understood. She meant to take it down with her.
"I would," he barked—then roared, "But you idiot! You're not seriously going to use that, are you?!"
Destiny Bond leaves the user "at death's door" rather than gone. If they get immediate, expert care—shipped straight to a Pokémon Center—there's a thread of hope.
In theory.
Here, there was no chance in time. Using Destiny Bond was basically suicide.
He couldn't gamble. Not with her life.
Her face eased at his answer—satisfaction softening her features, a touch of relief. For her, that was enough. If Jason would remember her, then anything she did was worth it.
"Hee-hee." She gave a small laugh—then looked at him one last time. In a dreamlike whisper: "Jason—remember me, okay~"
She whirled—body turning to a streak of black light—and arrowed straight at Ceruledge.
"Don't you dare!'"
Jason was faster.
As she shot out, he—still sprawled—flashed into Maushold. No pause; legs fired; he leapt—and outran her by three lengths. Three white mice snagged Gast mid-flight, holding fast; the fourth streaked ahead alone, meeting Ceruledge head-on.
"Not yet. It's not time for that."
His voice was hoarse from adrenaline, but he forced confidence into it. "Leave it to me. I have another way."
Gast blinked. "Okay. Jason—I believe you."
In the same instant, that front-running mouse crossed the gap—then the other three winked to motes and flowed back into Jason, and he remade himself—
Tinkatuff again.
All his strength poured into his arms; the massive hammer raised high, crashing down at Ceruledge's chest with everything he had.
But Ceruledge didn't even bother with a guard. It stood still, those deep black eyes flat as he thundered in—
Thud!
The hammer hit dead center.
[Ceruledge Dex +1%]
No seismic impact. Just a dull drum—pushing Ceruledge back a few steps, nothing more.
It lowered its head to glance at the hammer on its breastplate. Utter contempt bled into its gaze—like a sapling daring a mountainside.
"Other way, huh?" it rumbled. "That wasn't it… was it?"
It flicked its left blade—like swatting a fly—
WHUMP.
Jason didn't even see the motion. An unimaginable force hit him—and he flew back faster than he came, arcing perfectly and crashing down beside Gast in a spray of dust.
She hovered, dumbstruck—looking from the silent Ceruledge to Jason, sprawled where he'd landed. She drifted down, prodded him gently with those big new hands.
Her voice brimmed with genuine worry. "Jason—are you okay?"
He forced a twitch, squeezed out a line—with a little bravado he didn't feel. "St… still fine. Just hurts a tiny bit."
Silence. She circled him twice, scanning him up and down, then let out a soft sigh and asked, very quietly:
"Jason, didn't you say… you had another way?"
"That way… wasn't just 'getting hit,' right?"
~~~
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