However, Imperial Province First Trainer High really was in the wrong this time. Just because Houndour wasn't hurt didn't mean Ethan would let it slide. That woman would pay.
Lana hurried up, worry all over her face. "Brother Sheng—how's Houndour?"
Ethan sighed, wearing tragedy like a cloak. "It's in fate's hands."
Then, solemnly: "Don't worry about me—go take your exam. I'll settle things with the academy."
Up on the second-floor gallery, the faculty had already sent someone down. Lydia Vale—her shadow pinned and her psychic force sealed by Matron Juno Grimshaw's Dusknoir—was escorted upstairs.
"Captain Blaze," Ethan said evenly to the Fire lead, "I didn't ping the wrong person, did I? We should talk."
"Sure," Blaze Ashwick replied, blunt as ever.
"Our mess shouldn't stall the round. Keep the exams rolling."
This was exactly why he'd burned those 1,000 ancient points—Makuhita would still be weakened for Lana's bracket, and with Heracross (the Bug proctor) whisked away, she had a golden path. No way he'd let her miss it.
Blaze nodded and had a Rock Gym attendant lead Ethan to a side conference room.
Ethan dropped the grief-mask, forced a smile at Lana. "Do your best. Don't let them look down on us."
"Don't worry," Lana said, eyes flinty. "Boss Cat and I will get your payback."
Ethan blinked. Normal people don't… say it out loud like that. How did she read me so easily?
He stepped off with Blaze; Lana took Boss Cat to the floor.
"Boss Cat—show them. We're not easy targets."
"Meow." A strange energy budded behind the cat's eyes—the earlier Malice check on the psychic riot had cracked something open inside it.
—
In the conference room, Ethan waved the attendants away and shut the door. He was still composing his righteous fury when Blaze cut straight through it.
"Drop the act. I know what your Houndour is. Lucky kid—you pulled a Heavenly King–tier Fire inheritance."
Ethan's spine went cold; the complaint could wait. "How'd you see it? Not everyone would."
Blaze kicked out a chair for him and sat. "Small thing. You hid it well. That gold film barely leaks. Most folks wouldn't notice. But I've handled something similar—an anklet off a Heavenly King–tier Houndoom. Soon as I saw your pup, I knew."
"With that kind of legacy, your mutt could bathe in magma and walk out yawning. So let's skip the theater."
Ethan sat opposite. "Either way, I want an explanation. A faculty Esper attacking a candidate is serious. Parents will wonder if their kids are safe around teachers. She pays."
Blaze snorted. "You think I'll cover for Lydia? Hardly. I don't like people like her. I'll file it straight. She'll lose the vice-captaincy at minimum. Whether she stays on as a line instructor—unclear. She'll wear a Suppression Cuff for two or three years, and the school will impound her team for a while."
"As for more? You weren't injured. Even if you sued, that's about where it lands."
Ethan nodded. The cuff was the point—locking an Esper down to baseline hurt worse than a beating.
"I want to know why she's obsessed with this Cayce."
He rolled the red–white ball in his palm, with zero intention of giving it back.
Blaze shrugged. "It walked onto campus on its own. Brilliant. The psychics think it's parsed some of Alakazam Prime's sight—so they're drooling. Lydia's daughter set her eyes on it for a starter, but Cayce didn't like her and refused. Lydia still treated it as hers."
Ethan clicked his tongue, tossing the ball and catching it. "Then it's fate. I'll keep it."
"It chose you, so by rule, it is yours. Decades we've followed that—no one overrides it."
Blaze's lip curled; the poaching disgusted her. Plenty of staff-raised Pokémon lived on campus to find homes. That didn't give a vice-captain license to steal them mid-choice. Didn't Lydia see her Typhlosion hatchling? Or Orion Nightbald's Zoroark pup?
"Here—try this," Blaze said suddenly, sliding a straight silver spoon onto the table.
"A bent spoon?" Ethan said, though this one wasn't bent—yet.
"Exactly. Boosts psychic output. Pick it up, focus—and see if you can bend it."
She didn't add the other bit, but Ethan knew: if the spoon bowed in your grip, you had Esper potential. If it didn't—you didn't.