"Cyclizar Mask…!"
A single voice rang out from the crowd like a thunderclap, cutting through the silence.
Cyclizar Mask.
The masked hero who once stopped Kyogre and Groudon from drowning Hoenn in chaos. The man who stood in the sky between Arceus, the God of Creation, and humanity itself, and stopped the world from being judged.
That name had become a legend whispered across generations.
And now, that legend stood unmasked on the battlefield.
With a rumble, it felt as if the very foundation of the stadium, and the hearts of those watching, had cracked open.
Because no one, not a single person, could have imagined…
That the greatest hero of their time was the same quiet man who raised Gogoat and helped kids to gain experience on a peaceful ranch in the Paldea countryside.
Naoki.
Countless spectators shot up from their seats.
Some gawked in disbelief, jaws slack. Some covered their mouths in shock. Others simply stared, wide-eyed, hearts pounding.
Then, as if sparked by a single match, the crowd burst into a wildfire of excitement.
"Naoki!"
"Naoki!"
"Mr. Cyclizar Mask!"
The names rippled through the arena like a chant. Like thunder.
On the VIP platform above, Leon and Steven exchanged quiet glances. Neither looked surprised.
They had suspected it.
Cynthia stared silently at the battlefield, her fingers folded near her lips. No words escaped her, but her gaze was locked, almost reverent.
Lance and Diantha were visibly stunned.
"It's really him?" Diantha whispered.
"It's been him the whole time…" Lance muttered, dazed.
Far away in Paldea, inside the League Headquarters, Chairwoman Geeta smiled faintly as she looked at the screen.
So her instincts were right after all.
She knew the moment she met Naoki that he was no ordinary rancher. And now the world knew it too.
The Paldea League's Talent Discovery Program had just hit the jackpot.
And more than that…
Their next Champion was already waiting in the wings.
"This… this changes everything," she whispered, joy swelling in her chest.
In a quiet home in Levincia City, a man stared at the TV screen with a blank expression.
Iono's father.
He had been casually watching his son-in-law's match, proud, but relaxed. Then… Giratina appeared. The Cyclizar Mask was unmasked.
And Naoki was standing right there.
His apple slipped from his hand and hit the floor, rolling across the room as if in disbelief too.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. Words failed him.
In the next room, Iono's mother was folding laundry when she heard the sound.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"Come here," he said hoarsely, waving her over.
She approached, confused, until she looked up at the screen.
There he was. Her son-in-law.
Naoki.
Smiling faintly in the spotlight, standing beside Giratina.
Her eyes widened.
"Naoki really is so outstanding…" she murmured, heart full of pride.
"No, that's not it!" her husband exclaimed, pointing. "Look again! That's Giratina! He's not just excellent, our son-in-law is the Cyclizar Mask! The hero who saved Hoenn! The one who stood against Arceus!"
Her breath caught.
"What?!"
In that moment, both of them stood frozen, staring at the screen in awe.
Meanwhile, in Pallet Town, Professor Oak adjusted his glasses and leaned closer to the monitor.
"Naoki. This guy, just how long has he been hiding all this?"
His mind began racing.
Wait a moment…
'If he is the Cyclizar Mask, then…'
Oak froze.
That would mean the Legendary Pokémon that the Masked Hero had appeared with were his Pokémon.
Groudon. Kyogre. Giratina. Ho-Oh. Rayquaza.
So many legends, so many myths, gathered around a single young man.
Professor Oak's breath caught in his throat.
"If I could just see those Legendary Pokémon with my own eyes… If I could study them up close, even once in my life…"
A quiet smile touched his lips.
"I'd have no regrets."
Despite his age, despite all he had seen as a Pokémon Professor, Oak had never felt such a sense of childlike wonder.
Team Rocket Base – Secret Location
In a dark control room lined with flickering monitors, Giovanni, the boss of Team Rocket, sat rigid in his leather chair.
His eyes were glued to the screen.
The hand that usually held his wine glass trembled ever so slightly.
Those who knew him well would have recognized it instantly:
Giovanni was shaken.
He stared at the image of Giratina on the battlefield, towering, glowering, with Naoki standing calm beneath its wings.
For a long moment, silence reigned.
Then Giovanni exhaled, slowly, deeply.
"So it's really him."
A chill ran down his spine, but not from fear, from relief.
Before he found out Naoki's true identity, he remembered that one day he'd received intelligence about several deliverymen flying Dragonite through the airspace above Paldea. Team Rocket had considered intercepting them.
He had vetoed it at the last second.
Now, he understood exactly how close he'd come to a catastrophic mistake.
If they'd gone through with that plan…
He could already picture it.
The next morning, Giratina rips the sky open, flying point at the front of a terrifying formation, Rayquaza coiling through the clouds, Ho-Oh gleaming like flame above, Groudon shaking the earth below, Kyogre turning oceans against them.
The sky, the land, the sea, all at war with Team Rocket.
All for angering one man.
Giovanni ran a hand over Persian's head, breathing out.
"Fortunately, I didn't make him an enemy…"
After a moment of silence, he stood up and pressed a button on his desk.
"Matori," he said coldly.
His secretary's voice crackled through. "Yes, Boss?"
"Effective immediately: no Team Rocket personnel are to enter the Paldea region. Ever. I don't care what reason they think they have. Anyone who sets foot there is out of Team Rocket permanently. No exceptions."
There was a pause.
"Understood," Matori replied, her voice calm but shaken. "I assume this is about what's on the screen."
Giovanni said nothing.
...
Wyndon Arena – Main Stadium
It had taken the commentator several minutes, and his full vocal range, to calm the storm in the audience.
Even now, the buzz of energy could be felt like static in the air.
He raised the microphone again, hands trembling slightly, but his voice rang with passion.
"This… is truly unprecedented! The greatest twist in World Championship history! Naoki, the quiet rancher from Paldea, is without a doubt, the Cyclizar Mask! The man who has saved our world from ruin more times than we can count!"
The crowd roared again, unable to help themselves.
But now, something had changed.
It wasn't just excitement.
It was awe and reverence.
Even the idea of winning or losing no longer mattered.
Because everyone knows that the moment Giratina appeared, the battle has already had a result.
'Who could possibly stop a man who once stood against the wrath of Arceus?'
But still, the match wasn't over.
Bathed in the deafening roar of the crowd, Giratina slowly lowered its gaze to the battlefield.
Its blood-red eyes locked onto the opposing Pokémon with eerie excitement.
Ah… that one.
A familiar presence stirred old memories from the Reverse World.
Long ago, Giratina had watched from the shadows of the Distortion World as Dialga and Palkia tore through space and time in a cataclysmic battle. The violent shockwaves of their clash reached deep into the core of the planet, stirring its molten heart. Amid the chaos, a surge of distorted energy fused with the searing magma, until from that fiery womb, a new life emerged.
Heatran.
Across the field, Tobias took a deep breath. The awe of facing Giratina still clung to him, but as a trainer, he couldn't afford to waver. This was his second-to-last Pokémon, and he had no illusions left.
He knew this battle was beyond him.
Still, to stand tall in front of a Legend… that was the pride of a Trainer.
The referee raised his hand.
"Battle Five: Giratina vs Heatran—Begin!"
"Heatran! Lava Storm!" Tobias commanded.
Heatran's molten core rumbled with pressure. Glowing red lines lit up across its steel body like magma veins, and with a thunderous roar, it launched a spiraling inferno straight at Giratina.
A tornado of searing flames twisted across the field, tearing up the ground in its path.
But Giratina?
It didn't move.
The Renegade Pokémon hovered lazily above the firestorm, basking in the spotlight.
It slowly circled through the air, wings extended, like a shadowy deity surveying its worshippers.
It wasn't dodging. It wasn't attacking.
It was posing.
Playing to the crowd.
Naoki sweatdropped.
"Seriously? You're showboating now?"
The swirling flames of Lava Storm scorched past, missing entirely as Giratina pirouetted mid-air like a ghostly dragon on stage.
"Stop playing. If you keep dragging this out, the audience might think Heatran's stronger than you."
That hit a nerve.
Giratina froze in mid-spin.
Then it snarled.
'What did you just say?'
Without another word, it turned toward Heatran, jaw opening wide.
A massive Shadow Ball began to form, dark energy swirling like a black hole.
With a howl, Giratina unleashed it.
The orb of doom rocketed across the field, and struck like a meteor.
BOOM!
The entire battlefield trembled.
Smoke, dust, and fire erupted from the impact zone. A deep crater was left smoldering in its wake.
When the smoke cleared, Heatran was at the bottom of the pit, eyes spiraling, body twitching.
One hit. Instant knock-out.
The referee blinked, utterly numb, and stepped forward.
"Heatran is unable to battle. Giratina wins!"
And then it happened—
"GIRATINA!"
"GIRATINA!!"
"GIRATINA!!!"
Thunderous chants echoed from every corner of the stadium.
Giratina bared its jagged teeth in a proud, wicked grin.
'Yes. That's right. This is power.'
'Whether it's a dragon, a god, or a steel-crawling fire slug, it didn't matter.'
'Everything falls in one hit.'
Naoki sighed and lifted the Poké Ball.
"Alright, alright… that's enough glory for one day. Return."
It took three stern calls before Giratina reluctantly complied, its body dissolving into red light as it returned to its Poké Ball.
Giratina can't wait to return to the reverse world, watch its own videos online, and listen to how those humans praise it.