DJ dozed through most of math class, chin on his palm, eyes half-open. Not because he was tired—he'd slept fine.
No, it was because his brain couldn't stop replaying yesterday's training.
Kakuna had pulsed harder with Hive Energy than ever before. The egg had shifted in its incubator. And DJ… he was sure he'd pushed the energy deeper than he ever had.
His mind kept drifting back to the grove.
"Mr. Thompson."
DJ's head shot up. "Huh?"
The whole class snickered.
Mr. Brantley didn't. The biology teacher just stood in the doorway, arms folded.
"I need DJ for a moment. School-related matter."
DJ blinked, grabbed his bag, and escaped the laughter.
When the door shut behind them, Brantley gave him a sideways look.
"You're exhausted."
"Just training."
"You've been doing 'just training' for a month now," Brantley replied. "If you're pushing yourself so hard you can't stay awake in class, you're not training. You're overextending."
DJ didn't answer.
Brantley sighed. "But… I will say this. I can tell you're working for something. And that matters."
Something warm lit up in DJ's chest.
Brantley added, "If you keep this up, your application letter is going to write itself."
DJ nodded slowly. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet," Brantley said. "Just don't burn yourself out. Bug specialists don't get strong by skipping the basics."
Then Brantley turned and headed back toward the staff offices.
DJ watched him go.
He didn't feel lighter or heavier—just… determined.
He tightened his bag strap and muttered, "Basics first, then everything else."
The walk to the grove was automatic now. The trees parted like they recognized him. The warm summer air dipped cooler under the canopy.
Kakuna rested on its usual branch, angled carefully to catch the light. DJ set his bag down and gently lowered the egg's incubator onto the grass.
"Alright," he said. "Let's get started."
He ran through stretches—shoulders, wrists, deep breaths—trying to shake off the sluggishness of math class.
Then he sat cross-legged in front of Kakuna.
Hive Energy came slower today. Sluggish. Like DJ's body was refusing to cooperate.
He frowned.
"C'mon. Focus."
He inhaled, steady, drawing the green pulse up from the base of his spine like he'd been practicing. His palms tingled. His vision dimmed slightly at the edges.
A soft shimmer finally trickled out of him.
Kakuna twitched, absorbing what he gave off.
The egg pulsed faintly in its incubator.
DJ breathed deeper.
The shimmer began to brighten—
Snap.
A branch cracked. Hard.
DJ's eyes flew open.
Another crack echoed. Heavy footsteps.
Not human.
Kakuna tensed, shell vibrating like a tuning fork.
"What now…?"
A large shape pushed through the brush—
A wild Pinsir stepped into the clearing.
Its horns were flecked with sap and fresh gouges. It looked agitated—possibly driven out of its territory. And Bug-types that lose territory don't think. They react.
Pinsir locked eyes with DJ.
And charged.
"Whoa—Kakuna, down!"
Kakuna dropped from the branch instantly, hitting the ground with a controlled thud. The Pinsir slammed its horns into the bark where Kakuna had been, tearing a chunk of the tree off.
DJ staggered back.
"Kakuna, move!"
Kakuna hopped sideways—small but fast—barely dodging a horizontal horn sweep that carved a groove in the dirt.
DJ's heart pounded.
Pinsir wasn't attacking out of aggression.
It was attacking out of frustration. Out of desperation. And that made it ten times more dangerous.
"Kakuna—String Shot! Aim low!"
A burst of white thread shot from Kakuna's mouth, hitting Pinsir's legs. The wild bug snarled, pulling against the silk—but Kakuna wasn't trying to restrain it.
It was trying to slow it.
"Good! Now back—!"
Pinsir yanked free and lunged again.
"Kakuna—brace! Harden!"
Kakuna planted itself and stiffened its shell. Pinsir's horn slammed into it, sending a shockwave through the grove.
DJ winced.
That hit would have shattered any normal Kakuna.
But DJ saw it—faint, subtle—Hive Energy shimmered along Kakuna's shell, reinforcing the hit without turning it supernatural.
Kakuna held.
Pinsir recoiled in frustration.
DJ pointed sharply. "Kakuna—pivot!"
Kakuna hopped to the side, just in time to avoid Pinsir's second charge. The wild bug slammed into a tree trunk instead.
The tree shuddered. Leaves fell.
"Kakuna—String Shot again! Target the eyes!"
A precise burst fired—fast and narrow—splattering across Pinsir's face. The bug staggered, blinded for a second.
DJ felt a surge of pride. His training. The patterns. The reaction drills.
Kakuna was using all of it.
But Pinsir wasn't done.
It scraped the silk off its face with its horns and roared, lifting splinters of bark.
DJ swallowed.
"Kakuna… we gotta end this."
Pinsir charged, horns glowing with the faint static of X-Scissor.
"Move right!"
Kakuna jumped left anyway—because Kakuna had sensed it first. Pinsir's horns sliced the air where Kakuna would've been decapitated.
Kakuna landed, shell vibrating rapidly.
Pinsir turned—
"KAKUNA—NOW! FULL STRING BURST!"
Not a beam. Not a flashy attack.
A burst of silk shot out at point-blank range.
It hit Pinsir's joints—exactly where DJ had drilled for weeks.
Elbow. Knee. Neck hinge.
Pinsir staggered, legs locking slightly.
"Kakuna—Harden into tackle! Full weight!"
Kakuna launched itself like a thrown stone—small, dense, and perfectly angled.
It smashed into Pinsir's chest.
Pinsir hit the ground hard, kicking up dirt and grass.
DJ exhaled shakily.
Pinsir stumbled to its feet, groggy, breathing heavily. It glared at Kakuna—then at DJ—then backed away into the forest, defeated but alive.
DJ waited until the sound of heavy footsteps faded.
Then he dropped to his knees.
"Kakuna… you were incredible."
Kakuna twitched.
Exhausted.
But… humming.
A faint glow traced along the edges of its shell.
DJ froze.
"Kakuna…?"
The glow brightened.
A crack formed along the top ridge.
"Kakuna—are you—?"
The entire shell began to light from the inside. Not a burst. Not an explosion. A slow, building radiance—like pressure finally finding escape.
The shell expanded—
Split—
And the light swallowed the grove whole.
DJ shielded his eyes, heart hammering.
Kakuna was evolving.
Properly.
Finally.
Beautifully.
The glow forced the shadows back. The leaves shook. The air buzzed with wings DJ had never heard before.
He lowered his hand.
The light dimmed—
A new shape stood in the center of the clearing.
Larger.
Breathing.
Powerful.
Not Kakuna anymore.
DJ's breath caught, half laugh, half gasp—
"Hey… buddy?"