Waiting was not passive.
Aren learned this quickly.
As Liora's body adjusted, the household rhythm shifted again—not slower, but more intentional. Every action had weight now. Every decision was filtered through an unspoken awareness of the future.
Morning routines became quieter. Aren cooked more often, choosing meals that felt grounding rather than indulgent. Liora still worked, but from home, her desk positioned near the window where sunlight softened the hours.
The handheld device remained mostly dormant.
It did not offer advice unless requested. That silence reassured Aren more than any confirmation ever could.
Their Pokémon adapted instinctively.
Charizard no longer trained aggressively. Instead, they practiced controlled movements—wing stretches, flame modulation, endurance without strain. Power refined inward rather than pushed outward.
The Suicune sensed the change most deeply.
They spent more time fully present, their forms solid and luminous within the apartment, as though anchoring the space itself. Their presence cooled the air gently, keeping emotional currents calm.
One evening, Liora rested her head against Aren's shoulder.
"I'm not afraid," she said softly. "I thought I would be."
Aren didn't answer immediately.
He could see fear when it existed—in people, in Pokémon. He saw none in her. Only steadiness.
"That's because you're not alone," he finally replied.
Outside, the city lights flickered as always. No omens. No signs.
Just time, unfolding patiently.
Chapter 32 – Subtle Safeguards
Aren adjusted their life quietly.
Nothing drastic. Nothing suspicious.
He rerouted walking paths to avoid high-traffic trainer zones. He modified apartment security—not with alarms, but with subtle environmental cues Pokémon would sense before humans ever could.
The handheld device helped when asked.
Not with commands—but with simulations.
If a route changed, it showed how stress levels shifted.If a visitor stayed too long, it hinted when boundaries might blur.
It never made decisions for him.
That responsibility remained his.
Liora noticed, of course.
"You're being careful," she said one afternoon.
Aren smiled faintly. "I always was. I just have more reason now."
She reached for his hand.
"I don't want to live afraid," she said.
"Neither do I," he replied. "That's why we prepare quietly."
Their Pokémon mirrored the balance.
Charizard remained alert but relaxed. The female Charizard often positioned herself near Liora without being told, a quiet guardian presence that never intruded.
The Suicune watched everything.
Not as sentinels.
As witnesses.
Chapter 33 – The World Stays Ordinary
What surprised Aren most was how unchanged the world felt.
No sudden danger.No prophetic warnings.No narrative weight pressing down.
People still argued over gym rankings. Trainers still complained about bad matchups. Children still begged their parents for starter Pokémon.
Peace, Aren realized, wasn't fragile.
It was resilient because it was ordinary.
Liora took comfort in that.
They went on small outings—cafés that welcomed Pokémon, quiet parks where elderly trainers told stories to anyone who would listen. Life continued, gently insisting on its own normalcy.
At one café, a small child pointed excitedly at Charizard.
"Cool Pokémon!"
Aren smiled politely.
"Thank you."
That was all it took.
No suspicion. No attention.
The power remained hidden because it was not demanded.
Chapter 34 – Nights of Quiet Awareness
Sleep came easily to Liora.
For Aren, it was lighter.
He didn't worry—but he remained aware.
At night, when the city dimmed and human noise softened, he could feel the layers of the world more clearly. The sealed dungeons. The dormant energy lines. The quiet balance holding everything in place.
The Suicune often rested near the window at night.
Aren sometimes sat with them, saying nothing.
They didn't speak in words—but understanding passed freely.
The future is not urgent, they seemed to say.It will come when it comes.
That helped.
Chapter 35 – A Gentle Confirmation
The confirmation came without drama.
No alarms.No system alerts.
Just Liora, one morning, smiling quietly as she set down her tea.
"I can feel them," she said.
Aren froze—not in fear, but in awe.
"You're sure?"
She nodded. "Not clearly. Just… presence."
The handheld device pulsed once when Aren checked—no numbers, no predictions.
Status: Stable
That was all.
He laughed softly, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Then welcome," he murmured, not knowing if the words were meant for Liora, the future, or both.