The morning air in Verdant City's east district tasted of dust and damp stone. It clung to the back of my throat, a constant reminder that this place wasn't built on the earth so much as it was carved from it. Looming over us, the Gym was less a building and more a geological event. It looked like a mountain had tried to stand up and only gotten halfway, leaving a fortress of raw rock and jutting pillars that hummed with a faint, crystalline light. It was intimidating, ancient, and honestly, pretty cool.
"That's it," Lila said, nodding towards the monolith. She had her hands shoved in the pockets of her worn leather jacket, her expression as unimpressed as ever. "Verdant Gym."
"Looks more like a supervillain's lair," I muttered, craning my neck. Veins of some glowing blue crystal snaked up the stone walls, pulsing like a slow, steady heartbeat.
Lila snorted. "Close enough. Terra runs this place. Rock Types. She's a prodigy—used to mine her own battlefield stones from the Blackstone Quarry with her bare hands."
My ears perked up. Back home, a fight was a chaotic mess of powers and witty one-liners. It was instinct, improvisation, and hoping Robin didn't get too mad about the collateral damage. But here? It was a craft, a science. Metapod, strapped securely to my back, gave a quiet wiggle, as if sensing my excitement. "You think we could… watch a match?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "You know, for research. See how the 'real' trainers do it."
Lila shot me a sidelong glance, an eyebrow arched so high it nearly disappeared into her bangs. "You just want to see giant rock monsters smash things."
"That's… a significant part of the appeal, yes."
She sighed, the sound of a patient mentor dealing with a hyperactive toddler. "Fine. But try not to turn into anything mid-audience, chaos boy. They have rules about that. Probably."
The inside of the Gym was even more impressive than the outside. The air was cool and still, carrying the scent of pulverized rock and something electric, like the air after a lightning strike. It wasn't a building; it was a cavern. We found seats on one of the tiered stone terraces that descended like giant steps into a central battlefield. The floor below wasn't static. It was a mosaic of interlocking stone platforms, groaning with the subtle movement of hidden gears and pulleys. This wasn't just an arena; it was a machine.
Down on the floor, a challenger stood opposite the Gym Leader. He was a kid, maybe a couple of years older than me, buzzing with nervous energy. But my eyes were locked on Terra.
She was exactly as I'd pictured and nothing like I'd expected. She wore dusty yellow armor plates over her torso and arms, a practical choice that looked more like functional gear than a costume. A miner's jacket was tied around her waist, its sleeves frayed. Her posture was perfectly still, rooted to the spot as if she'd grown there. There was a calmness about her, a confidence that didn't need to be loud. It was in the set of her jaw, the relaxed way she held her hands. She was the eye of a hurricane made of stone.
At her side stood her Pokémon. A Geodude floated beside her, its stony fists clenched, and coiled behind her was an Onix so massive it looked like a collapsed mountain range given life. They didn't just look strong; they radiated a kind of gravitational pull, a sheer physical presence that made the air feel heavy.
My jaw just about hit the floor. This wasn't a street fight. This was a ceremony.
"Okay, so what am I looking at here?" I whispered to Lila, leaning closer. "Besides the obvious part where that snake-rock-thing could swallow a bus."
Lila didn't take her eyes off the field. "Strategy," she whispered back, her voice low and focused. "Terra's a defensive battler. She controls the terrain. She'll wear her opponent down, forcing them to burn through their stamina before she commits to a finishing blow. See the challenger's Pokémon? A Machop. Fighting-type. Good against Rock, in theory."
"In theory?"
"Terra doesn't fight 'in theory.' She fights on her ground, by her rules." She tapped her temple. "It's about more than just type matchups. It's about predicting your opponent's every move. It's about conservation of energy. It's chess, Garfield, not checkers."
I soaked it all in, feeling like a kid watching my first hero movie. The crowd was silent, a collection of focused, intense spectators who understood the silent language of the battlefield. I was an outsider, a tourist in a land of warriors. Metapod gave another soft chirp from my back, his own quiet energy a stark contrast to the colossal power below.
The battle began without a grand announcement, just a sharp nod from Terra. The challenger, eager to press his advantage, yelled, "Machop, Karate Chop! Full power!"
The little gray Pokémon charged, its body a blur of motion. It was fast, a lot like Robin when he got going. I instinctively tensed, ready for the impact.
Terra didn't even flinch. "Geodude," she said, her voice calm but carrying across the arena. "Rock Throw. Zone three, delta pattern."
It sounded like military code. Geodude's fists slammed together, and with a grunt, it launched a volley of stones. They didn't fly directly at the Machop. Instead, they arched high, slamming into the ground around it. The impacts shook the entire Gym, sending tremors up through our stone bench. The Machop faltered, its charge broken as it stumbled on the newly uneven terrain.
"What was that?" I breathed. "He totally missed."
"She didn't miss," Lila corrected softly. "She's building walls. Limiting his movement. Now he has to waste energy navigating the debris."
It was surgical. Every rock was a calculated move, a piece placed on the board. The challenger grew frustrated, ordering a series of rapid-fire attacks, but Geodude, under Terra's precise commands, became a floating fortress, deflecting blows and using the ricochets to further disrupt the battlefield. The arena floor, once flat, was now a treacherous landscape of craters and obstacles, all of Terra's making.
I found myself mimicking the motions, my hands clenching into fists, my feet shifting on the stone. "Use Low Kick, get under its guard!" I muttered under my breath. "No, wait, he's setting you up for a… a… rock thingy!" I was so engrossed I barely realized I was talking. This was so far beyond anything I'd ever done. My strategy was usually 'turn into a T-Rex and roar.' Seeing this level of control, this mastery… it was humbling.
Finally, with the Machop exhausted and boxed in, Terra made her move. "Geodude, return." The floating rock zipped back into its Poké Ball. "Onix. The field is yours."
The colossal rock serpent slithered forward, its roar a physical force that echoed through the chamber, rattling my teeth. The challenger, pale-faced, tried to rally his Pokémon, but it was too late.
"Bind," Terra commanded.
Onix's massive body shot forward, not to crush, but to encircle. It was terrifyingly fast for something so huge. It coiled around the struggling Machop, the sound of grinding stone filling the air. The challenger forfeited instantly, his voice a choked whisper. The Onix released its hold, and the little Fighting-type slumped to the ground, defeated.
The crowd gave a polite, appreciative applause. Me? I couldn't help it. I jumped to my feet. "Yo, that was AWESOME!"
My voice echoed in the cavernous space. Dozens of heads turned, staring at me with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. Lila yanked me back down by the hood of my jacket, her face buried in her hands. "Chaos boy," she groaned.
As the crowd filed out, I lingered. I had to see it up close. Lila gave me a look that said, Don't do anything stupid, which I promptly ignored. I slipped away from the terraces and crept down to the now-empty battlefield.
The place smelled of ozone and shattered stone. I ran my hand over one of the craters Geodude had made. The rock was still warm. I marveled at the heavy mechanisms underneath the platforms, colossal gears thick with grease. This place was a temple built for a specific kind of war.
My attention was drawn to the edge of the arena, where a row of training dummies stood. They were made of reinforced, jet-black stone, and they were utterly mangled. Deep cracks spiderwebbed across their surfaces. Gouges the size of my head were clawed into their chests. One was even partially melted, as if it had been hit with a blow of incredible heat and force. The battle I'd just witnessed was a controlled demonstration. This was a sign of real power, of past battles far tougher than anything I'd ever faced.
I crouched down, tracing one of the deep claw marks with my finger, trying to imagine the kind of strength it would take to do this to solid rock.
A shadow fell over me.
"You're not from around here," a calm voice stated.
I looked up, my heart doing a little pogo-stick routine in my chest. It was Terra. She stood there, arms folded, her expression unreadable. She hadn't made a sound.
I scrambled to my feet, wiping my dusty hand on my pants. "Uh, no. Just… admiring the interior design. Very… rocky." I scratched the back of my neck, feeling my face flush. "Guess you could say I'm a little green when it comes to Gym stuff."
A faint smirk touched her lips. It was gone as quickly as it came. "Then maybe you should watch from the stands, not the field." She took a step closer, her gaze analytical. She wasn't looking at me so much as she was reading me. "But your energy's… strange. Wild. Untrained." She paused, sizing me up. "But you've got curiosity. I like that."
Before I could figure out if that was a compliment or an insult, she added, "When you think you're ready to test that curiosity—come back. Verdant Gym doesn't go easy on dreamers."
She turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing softly in the vast, empty space, leaving me standing alone in the center of her world, feeling about an inch tall.
Lila found me sitting on a stone ledge outside the Gym, overlooking the city's lower terraces. For once, I was quiet, just watching the faint glow of the crystal veins in the distance as the sun began to set.
"She knew I was there," I said, not looking at her. "Before she even saw me. Didn't even need to look. She just felt me."
Lila leaned against the railing beside me. "Terra's been a Gym Leader since she was sixteen. She's more connected to this place than anyone. She reads people like she reads terrain. You've got guts, Garfield, but guts won't crack rock."
My gaze fell to my backpack, where the smooth, green shell of Metapod was just visible. I reached back and gently tapped it. He was all about defense, about waiting, about preparing for a change. It was a strategy I'd never had the patience for. I'd always relied on instinct, on being faster, stronger, weirder than my opponent. But Terra… she would dismantle that in a second. She wouldn't fight the T-Rex; she'd fight the ground beneath its feet until it fell.
"Then we'll learn how to hit smarter… not harder," I said, more to myself than to Lila. A faint smile touched my lips. It wasn't the usual goofy grin. It was something else, something quieter and more focused. "We'll find our way to shake her ground."
As if in agreement, Metapod gave a soft chirp. A faint, internal pulse of light emanated from his shell, a quiet promise of the growth happening within. He was changing, evolving. And I knew I had to as well.
"Verdant Gym," I murmured, staring at the stone arena in the distance. "Guess it's time to stop winging it… and start training for real."