The Alucard estate's training dojo was hidden so well that guests at the grand receptions upstairs would never guess it existed.
From the surface, the stone path that wound behind the western gardens ended at a carved koi statue. But the statue's base held the latch, and once pressed, an iron gate embedded in the hillside swung open to reveal a steep staircase descending into the cool earth.
I followed Elise down, my footsteps echoing in the stone corridor. Torches in gold brackets lined the walls, their light flickering across carved inscriptions in a language I didn't recognize. Perhaps Magnus could read them but he'd never answered my questions about them before.
When we reached the bottom, the stairs opened into the dojo: a wide, polished floor of dark wood, surrounded by weathered wooden pillars. Lanterns cast a soft golden light, and faint traces of chalk lines marked out battle lanes on the floorboards. It smelled faintly of sandalwood and oiled wood carefully preserved tradition.
At the far side, Magnus was already waiting, hands clasped behind his back. Between him and Elise, on a polished lacquered tray, rested three Poké Balls.
"This," Magnus said in his low, steady voice, "is where you begin the part of your training the public will never see. The work done here stays between us."
Elise stepped forward, her eyes intent on mine.
"These will be your private partners. They will grow with you, but their existence, like all things of value, is best kept hidden from those who are not ready to see it."
I nodded. "Understood."
She released the first Poké Ball.
A squat, steel-bodied Aron landed on the mat with a heavy thud, eyes gleaming like chips of hematite. It gave a low, metallic grunt, stomping once as if announcing it didn't expect to follow orders easily.
Next came Absol. Graceful, white-furred, and haloed by an aura that was edged like tempered steel. Its crimson eyes studied me, measuring me in the same way my father might wondering whether I was worth its attention.
The third burst forth in a small flash Weedle. Tiny, familiar, commonly underestimated. It tilted its head at me, curious and unafraid. I couldn't help the faint smile.
Magnus's eyebrow quirked. "Interesting selection, especially the Weedle."
"Small pieces," I said simply, "win big games."
The corner of his mouth twitched—his version of a smile.
Elise led me to kneel on the mat in front of Aron.
"Close your eyes. Do not look for strength. Look for pulse. Every living thing has one, but only some will let you match it."
I inhaled slowly, letting my Aura open—not pushing toward Aron, but listening. At first, the connection slid away from me, like water against steel. So I adjusted, slowing my breathing, lowering my inner stance to match the grounded, immovable stubbornness I felt in him.
A faint metallic tang filled my senses. The connection clicked firm, unyielding. Aron gave a short nod.
We moved to Absol. This was sharper—its presence a precise cutting edge, dangerous to grasp. I narrowed my mental focus into something honed, thoughts like a focused beam. Absol inclined its head ever so slightly; a silent agreement.
Weedle, in contrast, was quicksilver darting, curious thoughts. I lightened my mental rhythm, matching its playful jumps. The connection was instant.
"You adapt well," Elise observed. It was praise, but she kept her tone neutral. "But speed of connection will mean nothing if you can't hold it under pressure."
Magnus took over, producing three hovering target drones—polished steel spheres the size of apples.
"Direct them with your mind, Robert. They resist. That is their point."
I focused on the drone linked to Aron—it was heavy in my mind, refusing to budge. I tried pushing harder. It resisted more. Magnus's calm voice cut in: "Force is crude. Will is fine. Convince."
So I stopped pushing. I pictured the object moving through water, and invited it forward. Slowly, it began to slide.
Absol's drone was faster—erratic, darting away whenever I reached for it. I mirrored its movements in my head, anticipating its next dodge before reaching—and caught it mid-shift, halting it exactly where I wanted.
Weedle's was quick, zigzagging unpredictably. I sped up my thought rhythm, as if thinking in short bursts. It matched me, and for a moment, it felt less like I was controlling it and more like we were chasing each other for fun.
Magnus nodded once. "Better."
Then I felt it.
That presence. The vast, cold awareness brushing against my mind again.
Not just passing through—watching, assessing.
My focus faltered. Aron growled softly, picking up on my tension. Absol's fur bristled.
Elise's eyes darted to me. "What is it?"
"Nothing," I lied quickly. The presence faded as if it had never been—but I knew better.
When the session ended, Elise dismissed Aron, Absol, and Weedle to the recovery pen at the edge of the dojo. Magnus brought me to the staircase.
"You connect to them quickly," he said, "and that is dangerous."
"Dangerous?"
"Loyalty cuts both ways. Pokémon bound to you will follow into fire—whether you've weighed the consequences or not."
We climbed in silence until we reached the koi statue at the garden exit. The night air was cool; the scent of jasmine drifted in from the main courtyard.
I thought about Magnus's words as I spotted Aron stubbornly holding its ground when one of the caretaker Pokémon tried to usher it inside, Absol silently watching me from the corner, Weedle curled up contentedly in its enclosure.
I sat cross-legged on my bed as candlelight danced over the dark wood walls. My three new partners rested nearby. Each had potential—different kinds, different strengths. In my old life, I'd seen enough battles on screens to know how rare such synergy was.
In this life, I didn't intend to waste it.
Silently, I promised them:
We will grow together. Perfectly, quietly. And when the world finally sees us… it will be too late to stop us.