Dust floated like ash.
The ground beneath Shion's boots trembled faintly, a final aftershock rippling out from the massive crater carved into the arena. Around him, the coliseum was frozen tens of thousands of spectators locked in stunned silence, as if even their breathing might disturb the moment.
Shion didn't hear the referee. He didn't hear the crowd. He didn't even hear Bidoof's voice in his head.
He ran.
Down the fractured stone. Across the ruined battlefield. Toward the crater toward Kiba.
"Kiba!!"
He slid to his knees at the edge. The dust was still thick, swirling around the shattered remains of the arena floor. And there, half-buried beneath splintered rock and scorched stone, lay the orange-furred Lycanroc, motionless.
Shion's hands trembled as he reached forward. "Hey. Hey, I'm here. Look at me." His voice cracked, barely a whisper.
Kiba didn't move.
For a breathless second, Shion thought No. But then faintly a twitch. One paw. A low groan, almost inaudible.
Shion exhaled sharply, relief slamming into his chest like a wave. "You're alive," he whispered. "You stubborn, brilliant mutt, you're alive."
He leaned over, shielding Kiba from the sun, from the crowd, from everything. Dirt clung to Kiba's fur. There were deep bruises along his ribs, and blood at the corner of his mouth. But his eyes fluttered open—just barely.
"Rest," Shion said softly. "I've got you."
Behind him, the referee began to speak again, voice echoing over the speakers. Something official. Something distant. Shion didn't hear it. He didn't care.
A pair of medics rushed down from the sideline, their uniforms flapping in the breeze. One called out his name, but Shion waved them back. He touched Kiba's Poké Ball to the Lycanroc's fur. A flash of red light, and Kiba vanished inside.
Shion stood slowly.
He turned, finally aware of the presence across the field.
Kaelan hadn't moved.
He stood exactly where he'd been, his arms now at his sides, his eyes watching Shion not coldly, not smugly. Just… waiting.
The wind tugged at his coat. His Lycanroc stood beside him, silent as a mountain. The glow from its mysteri infused power had long faded. It looked tired. But proud.
Their eyes met.
Shion didn't say a word.
He turned and walked off the field.
No raised fist. No bowed head. Just his back to the arena.
And the crowd finally reacted.
Murmurs, then applause. Not the wild kind that followed victory. Something more somber. Like the kind they gave to warriors who had survived a war.
As he passed under the archway and the arena vanished behind him, Shion didn't look back.
The healing chamber was quiet—eerily so.
A single wall-mounted torch flickered softly, casting wavering light across the stone walls. Runes carved into the floor pulsed a gentle pale-blue, channeling healing energy into the raised stone table where Kiba lay. The Lycanroc's body was still, save for the slow, steady rise of his chest.
Shion stood just outside the glow, arms crossed tightly, eyes fixed on his partner.
The chamber smelled of warm herbs and dry stone. The healer—a calm woman in gray robes—had already left, assuring Shion that Kiba would recover fully with rest. But her words rang hollow in his ears.
He hadn't even knocked out one of Kaelan's Pokémon.
Not even one.
His jaw clenched. His fingers curled tighter around the Poké Ball on his belt—Rune's. Even that battle felt like an illusion now. He'd fought well. Maybe. But was it ever really close?
"I didn't stand a chance…" he muttered aloud, voice echoing faintly against the chamber walls. "Not even close."
The torch behind him crackled.
He hated this feeling—the tight knot in his chest, the dull sting behind his eyes. He had known—knew—there would be a day he'd fall short. That he'd lose. But even so… he wasn't ready for it.
He wanted more.
More battles. More time.
More strength.
His hand trembled as he looked at Kiba again, unconscious and bandaged. The sight sent another wave of guilt crashing over him. If he had just—
A soft knock at the wooden doorway pulled him from the spiral.
He turned.
Mila stood there in her usual traveling cloak, Bidoof held comfortably in her arms. She gave a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. Beside her stood Vince, arms crossed and eyes unusually serious, and Ren, his expression unreadable but calm.
"Hey," Mila said gently. "We thought we'd find you here."
Shion blinked, then nodded mutely.
Vince gave a two-fingered salute. "You, uh… left the field kinda fast."
Ren stepped forward and clapped a hand on Shion's shoulder. "You did well out there."
Shion tried to answer, but his voice caught.
Mila walked closer, glancing at Kiba's still form, then back to Shion. "Seriously. You got farther than most first-timers ever do."
Shion finally managed a small, tired smile. It was more gratitude than agreement. He didn't really believe her.
Vince tried to crack a joke. "I mean, if I'd fought that monster Lycanroc, I'd probably be buried in the wall somewhere."
It earned a soft chuckle—but only from Mila. The mood remained heavy.
Ren's voice was low but steady. "I know how it feels. Losing like that. It eats at you."
Shion looked at him, eyes sharp.
Ren continued. "But it means you've got room to grow. And if you're willing to grow, then a loss isn't the end."
Silence passed between them.
Then, slowly, Shion nodded.
"You're right," he said quietly. "There's no point in sulking forever."
He exhaled and looked at Kiba again. "I guess… that's the end of my first tournament, huh?"
Mila smiled and tapped her boot against the floor. "Could've fooled us. You went toe-to-toe with some of the strongest trainers in the region."
"Yeah," Vince said, arms crossed again. "Most of them have been training for years. And you still made it all the way to the Top 32. That's not luck."
Shion let the words sit with him. Slowly, they began to dull the edge of his disappointment. Not erase it. But dull it.
Then Vince's brow furrowed. "Still… that move Kaelan pulled—what the hell was that? I've never seen anything like it."
"Same," Mila said. "I didn't even know that kind of thing existed."
Ren crossed his arms. "It wasn't just a strong attack. The whole air changed. Like the arena itself was reacting to it."
Mila tapped her chin. "Actually…"
All eyes turned to her.
She glanced around, then lowered her voice. "I read about something like it. Once. It was in a bestiary from a coastal archive—a really old one. Mentioned a ritual from the Isle of Varis, Kaelan's home."
"Ritual?" Vince asked.
Mila nodded. "Apparently… the tribes on the island worship four guardian spirits. Tapu, they're called. Each tied to a different element. The Tapu protect the land—and in return, certain chosen people are granted special crystals. The kind that allow their Pokémon to perform… one devastating move."
Shion's eyes narrowed. "Like what Kaelan did."
"Exactly." Mila paused. "They call it… a Z-Move."
"Z-Move?" Vince repeated, half scoffing. "What kind of name is that?"
"I thought it was just a myth," Mila admitted. "No one outside the island's ever seen it. But after today… I'm not so sure anymore."
A pause.
Then Shion muttered, "That power… I don't know if anything could survive it."
He looked back at Kiba's Poké Ball.
Barely did.
A quiet lull fell over the room again. Only the faint hum of the healing runes filled the silence.
Then Ren spoke, his tone casual—but pointed.
"Why did you enter the tournament, Shion?"
Shion blinked. "What?"
Ren shrugged. "You never said. Was it just for the challenge?"
Shion hesitated.
Then: "Oh."
He rubbed the back of his head. "Right. I, uh… well it's nothing grand ."
Vince raised a brow. " what do you mean?"
Shion laughed awkwardly. "Well, I… sort of wanted the royal favor."
That got everyone's attention.
Mila tilted her head. "The favor?"
"Like, the favor?" Vince asked, skeptical. "The one you get for winning the tournament?"
Shion nodded sheepishly. "Yeah."
Vince's mouth dropped open. "And what were you gonna ask for, oh great champion?"
Shion scratched his cheek. "Permission to explore the academy."
There was silence.
Mila blinked.
Ren blinked.
Bidoof stopped mid-bite on a berry chunk and stared.
"…Seriously?" Vince said, incredulous. "You could've asked for a title. money. A Rare Pokemon . And you want a tour?"
"I—I wasn't going to ask for a tour! Just…" Shion coughed. "Access."
Mila folded her arms, amused. "Access for what?"
Shion's expression turned just slightly more serious. "There's something I need to find there. Something only the academy might have. I didn't think they'd just let me in if I asked."
Mila raised an eyebrow. "You know you could've asked us, right?"
Shion flushed slightly. "I… hadn't really thought that far..."
He pause then continue. " I try to ask for permission once but I was...well thrown away..."
Mila's eyes lit up. "Wait a minute. That was you?"
Shion froze. "...Huh?"
She looked delighted now. "I heard about someone getting tossed out by the Gatewarden. Tried to sneak into the vault tower. Said he was looking for Ren and me. You got yeeted across the courtyard."
Vince burst into laughter. Even Ren cracked a rare smirk.
Shion buried his face in his hands. "Okay, yes, that was me. Happy now?"
"Very," Mila said, grinning.
Bidoof finally piped up with a snort. "I would've paid to see that."
Shion sighed, then laughed despite himself.
The knot in his chest loosened just a little more.
Bidoof was mid-chomp into a half-crushed berry pastry when the footsteps echoed down the stone corridor.
They weren't hurried. They weren't quiet.
They were… confident.
Shion turned first.
Kaelan approached with a casual swagger, his dark travel coat fluttering behind him like a banner in the windless hall. His long black hair, braided at the sides and tied at the back, swayed with each step. Beside him padded his hulking Midnight Lycanroc—its red eyes glowing faintly even in the low torchlight, its claws clicking against the stone floor.
The conversation froze.
Vince's usual slouch straightened. Ren's arms dropped subtly to his sides. Mila shifted slightly in front of Shion.
Kaelan stopped a few paces away, hands in his pockets, expression relaxed.
"Well," he said, eyes on Shion, "still interested in knowing what your Lycanroc actually is?"
Shion tensed without meaning to.
Vince frowned. "Wait—what's he mean by that?"
Kaelan didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his gaze to Mila, then to Vince, and Ren—reading each of them like pages in a book.
Then he smiled.
"Your friend," he said smoothly, "has something rare. Very rare. A Lycanroc that's neither Midday nor Midnight. And I get the feeling," he looked back to Shion, "he'd like to know why."
Shion opened his mouth, then closed it.
He'd never admitted anything directly. The dirt excuse was easier. Safer. The lie had worn thin a long time ago, but most people didn't care enough to press.
Vince, of course, jumped on it. "Wait, that's what this is about? I knew the color was weird! You told me it was from dirt and I believed you!"
"Shion," Mila added, folding her arms. "Dirt doesn't permanently tint fur. You know that, right?"
Shion sweat-dropped. "It was...a convenient explanation."
Kaelan barked a laugh. "Conveniently terrible."
The sound of it echoed through the hall—casual, loud, and honest. He seemed genuinely amused, like someone watching a bird try to pass as a dragon.
Shion muttered under his breath. "Well, I wasn't trying to impress anyone…"
Still grinning, Kaelan stepped forward until he stood only a few strides from Shion. His Lycanroc followed, then sat down silently, its posture regal and alert.
Kaelan's tone changed slightly—lower now, more serious. "So. Are you actually interested in learning what you've got, or were you just bluffing earlier to save face?"
Shion met his gaze. "I want to know."
Kaelan studied him a second longer, then nodded once.
"I thought so."
He turned.
And began walking away.
"Wait—" Vince blinked. "You're just gonna leave?"
Kaelan raised a hand lazily as he kept walking. "Not here. Talking makes me hungry. Let's find food."
The echo of his footsteps carried off into the hallway beyond, his Lycanroc rising to pad after him.
The group stared in stunned silence.
Vince finally muttered, "...That guy's weird."
Shion blinked. "That's… putting it lightly."
Mila looked between the others. "Are we going with him?"
Ren shrugged once. "He's offering answers."
Vince groaned, rubbing the back of his head. "Fine. But if he turns out to be some cultist trying to sacrifice Shion to the Tapu, I'm blaming you."
Bidoof, still perched in Mila's arms, snorted. "Please. If he tries anything, I'll smite him."
"You'll snack on him," Shion muttered. "There's a difference."
Mila gave a half-smile. "Let's go before he eats without us."
The group moved out, following the lingering sound of Kaelan's boots down the corridor.
Outside, the light of early dusk filtered through the high windows of the coliseum's outer wall, casting golden lines across the stone. The tournament might have ended for Shion—for now—but something else was just beginning.
A trail of answers.
And Kaelan was leading the way.
The tavern Kaelan led them to was tucked behind a quiet cobbled alley, far from the roar of the coliseum crowd. It wasn't grand—just an old stone-and-timber inn with creaking chairs and weathered beams—but it smelled of roast meat, spiced stew, and fresh bread.
The group found a table in the corner, half-shadowed beneath a lantern mounted to the wooden beam above. The mood was awkward. Quiet. Only the occasional clink of utensils or distant tavern chatter broke the silence.
Shion sat with Bidoof sprawled across his lap, snoring gently. His tiny round belly rose and fell with each breath.
After a few awkward minutes, the food arrived—hot stew, meat pies, charred skewers, and barleybread with salted butter. Kaelan wasted no time. The moment the plates hit the table, he began eating like a man who hadn't seen food in days. Chewing loudly, head down, both hands working.
The others watched in vague horror.
"…Is this normal?" Vince muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
"I think it is," Mila whispered back.
Even Ren raised an eyebrow.
Between bites, Kaelan spoke with his mouth half-full. "Man, food in the capital hits different. It's all fancy-spiced and clean—back home it's just sea salt and root vegetables."
The sight of him gnawing meat off a skewer while talking made Mila politely look away. Vince, however, couldn't stop staring.
After Kaelan finished his third helping, he leaned back and let out a satisfied burp.
At the exact same time, Bidoof burped in his sleep.
Everyone stared.
Kaelan and Bidoof blinked at each other.
Then Vince whispered, "They're the same."
Shion, trying not to laugh, finally spoke. "Um… Kaelan. About the reason we're here…"
Kaelan blinked, as if just remembering. "Ah. Right."
He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, leaned forward, and rested both elbows on the table. "So. You've probably figured it out by now—your Lycanroc? He's called a Dusk Lycanroc."
"Dusk?" Vince tilted his head. "Not Midday?"
"Not Midnight?" Mila added.
"Nope," Kaelan said, grinning. "Dusk. Born in-between. Balanced. Rare."
He let that sit for a moment, watching their faces.
Shion nodded slowly. "I've heard the name before. But no one ever told me what it actually means."
"Well," Kaelan said, picking at his teeth with a sliver of bone, "evolving into a Dusk Lycanroc isn't something just any Rockruff can do. Even ones raised right, trained hard—they can't pull it off."
The group leaned in slightly, curious.
Kaelan smirked. "It's not just about how it evolves, or when. It's about what's inside."
He paused, then continued.
"Where I'm from, on the Isle of Varis, we believe that Dusk Lycanroc are chosen—blessed. Not by people. Not even by the Tapu. But by something older. More primal. They're the harmony between sun and shadow. The edge between restraint and rage."
He looked directly at Shion. "To evolve into one, a Rockruff has to walk the line between those extremes. Courage in the day. Will in the night. And above all—resolve in the in-between."
Mila blinked. "In-between?"
Kaelan nodded. "Dusk. Twilight. When the world can't decide what it is. That's when they awaken."
"So it's not just timing," Ren said quietly. "It's a kind of... alignment."
"Exactly."
Kaelan's expression dimmed for a moment. "I tried, once. With mine. Thought I had it figured out. But even with the right hour, the right place, the right battle… it evolved into Midnight."
He paused.
"…He's still strong," Kaelan added, glancing to the Lycanroc beside him, who sat silently like a sentry.
Shion leaned forward. "You said you've seen a Dusk Lycanroc before?"
Kaelan nodded once. "Yeah. My brother's."
The table fell silent.
"He raised his Rockruff from a pup," Kaelan continued, voice softer now. "Wasn't anything special at first. Just loyal. Quiet. But my brother… he had a way of calming people. Even Pokémon. He never pushed anyone too hard—but they'd push themselves for him."
Vince frowned. "Sounds like a good guy."
Kaelan smiled faintly. "He was. Everyone in the village loved him. The elders said he might be the next island guardian—someone the Tapu could actually speak through."
"Then why did he leave?" Mila asked gently.
Kaelan's smile faded. "A woman came. A traveler. No one knew where from. She was strange—wild, free. My brother fell for her hard. One night, they just… left."
He didn't say more for a moment.
Then, "I've been trying to find him. It's why I'm here."
The weight of his words settled over the table.
Shion opened his mouth, then hesitated. "I hope… you find him."
Kaelan shrugged, half-grateful. "Maybe."
After a breath, he leaned back and changed the subject. "Anyway. There's an old legend in our archive back home. Said there was once another trainer who had a Dusk Lycanroc. Hundreds of years ago."
The others perked up again.
"He wore strange clothes. Traveled with a yellow electric creature—spiky fur, long ears, a tail shaped like a lightning bolt."
Shion blinked.
"…A Pikachu?" Mila guessed.
Kaelan nodded. "Yeah, that's the name. He arrived through a portal—or something like one. People say he had a lion Pokémon with a mane of fire and light. He came to the islands, stayed for a season, then vanished. Left only stories behind."
"I don't know the whole thing," Kaelan said. "I was a brat when I read it. Snuck into the chieftain's hut, found the old scrolls. Got caught halfway through and had to run."
Vince blinked. "You stole history."
Kaelan grinned. "I borrowed it. Emotionally."
Mila leaned forward, fascinated. "Is the story still there?"
"Probably," Kaelan said, standing up. "But I doubt they'd let outsiders see it. Especially not since I kinda broke the shelf."
"You what—"
But Kaelan was already stretching. "Well, that's all I know about Dusk Lycanroc. You've got something rare, Shion. Take care of him."
He slung his cloak back over his shoulder, gave a two-fingered salute, and started walking away.
"Wait," Mila said, rising. "That story… that trainer. Do you remember anything else?"
Kaelan glanced over his shoulder. "Only that he smiled a lot. And never backed down from a fight."
Then he was gone.
The door shut behind him with a soft thud.
The table was quiet for a moment longer.
Shion looked at the empty bowls in front of them, then back to the door.
"…What do we do now?" Vince asked.
Mila answered for him. "lets watch the rest of the matches."
Shion nodded.
As the group walk on their way to the Arena
Shion finally know about his lycanroc the thought about his lycanroc being special make him happy as he feel his bond with kiba is better than before