Three days after the taming assessment, Uriah's routine had turned brutally structured. Dawn meant drills, noon meant studies, and late afternoon meant battling fundamentals with their starters. What separated him from the other cadets wasn't enthusiasm—most had plenty of that. It was discipline. He didn't waste movements, words, or time.
Training Vulpix
Vulpix was still young, barely matching his forearm in length, but its will was sharp. Most cadets tried bribing their new partners with sweets or constant petting. Uriah didn't. He fed Vulpix at consistent hours, kept its Pokéball clean, and worked with firm commands.
He didn't shout. He didn't beg.He directed.
"Stand."The Fire Fox obeyed."Low stance."A pause—then compliance."Ember. Controlled pulse. Not scattershot."
The flame burst too wide, scorching the training sand.
Uriah stepped in immediately, one hand on the fox's head, steady but not soft."Control first. Power later. Again."
Vulpix huffed, frustrated, but not offended. It understood the structure. And it responded to the calmness in Uriah's tone—unshaken, composed. Caring without being indulgent.
When Vulpix improved, Uriah didn't celebrate. He just said, "Good. Keep that pattern."
Strangely enough, that consistency built trust faster than syrupy praise ever could.
Reward From Taming
Because he'd been first to tame his starter, he received a ten-minute consultation with an Elite Instructor. In the academy, that was equivalent to a month of normal lessons.
Instructor Arwin was a tall man with hair greying at the temples and a posture like he'd been carved from battlefield pressure. His Pokémon—a massive Arcanine—waited behind him, silent, watchful.
"You handled your fox well," Arwin said, scanning Uriah's stance. "But you're using rigidity as a crutch. Control shouldn't mean tension. Control means predictability."
He walked around Uriah, assessing both him and Vulpix.
"You need two things. One: channel discipline into pattern recognition, not stiffness. Two: teach your Pokémon your rhythm. If it learns your breathing cycle and movement cues, you'll command faster than speech allows."
Arwin made him repeat several movements, synchronizing steps with Vulpix's reactions.Subtle. Efficient. No wasted noise.
Before leaving, Arwin tossed him a small kit.
"Five Pokéballs. Two Potions. One Antidote. Standard for high performers. Use them sparingly—if you waste them, you don't get replacements."
Uriah bowed slightly."Understood."
Task Center
On the fourth night, cadets were officially introduced to the Task Center—an organized hall with boards full of rotating assignments. Missions completed for the Corps earned points. Points built reputation, access privileges, safehouse credits, and eventually rank recommendations.
Most cadets picked harmless tasks—supply transport, errand runs, manual labor. Safe, predictable, boring.
Uriah didn't bother with any of those.
He scanned the higher-tier beginner tasks.Two caught his eye immediately:
Border Perimeter Response (Minor Breach Support)
City Incident Control (Low-Threat Pokémon Disturbance)
Both were listed as "Beginner-Level Risk. Recommended for disciplined personalities."
Perfect.
He accepted both.
Some cadets stared at him like he was insane.Others whispered that he was arrogant.
He ignored all of them.
Mission One — Perimeter Response
At dawn, he reported to the outer wall sector. Two professionals from the Watch Corps were already waiting—both older, with the kind of eyes that had seen Pokémon Tide horrors firsthand.
"Cadet Uriah?""Yes."
"Good. Follow instructions. No improvisation unless ordered."
They moved fast through the gate tunnel and into the shadowed underbrush beyond. A small wild group had breached last night—a pair of Spearow and a wounded Mankey. The goal: locate, corner, and contain.
The pros handled the path clearing. Uriah stayed behind them, Vulpix ready but still in its Pokéball until needed.
It didn't take long.
A crashing noise ripped through the brush. The Mankey erupted from a fallen log, frothing with panic and pain. Blood still fresh on its arm. It wasn't attacking—just terrified.
But fear made Pokémon unpredictable.
"Cadet, release!" the lead Watcher barked.
Uriah's hand didn't shake."Vulpix—out!"
The fox materialized, body low, eyes sharp.
"Mankey is unstable," the Watcher warned. "We need it subdued, not killed."
Uriah stepped forward."Vulpix, flank. Don't engage head-on."
The fox moved smoothly around the Mankey, its paws silent on the forest floor. The pros blocked escape routes. The Mankey lunged—wild, erratic.
"Ember. Pulse. Low intensity!"
A controlled burst. Not too hot. Just enough to force hesitation.
The Mankey staggered back, confused.
"Again. Same rhythm."
Another pulse. This time Vulpix matched Uriah's breathing pattern, exactly as Instructor Arwin taught.The Mankey collapsed, not defeated—just exhausted and overwhelmed.
"Good work, cadet," the Watcher said. "Calm mind. Clean execution."
Uriah recalled Vulpix and simply nodded.No pride.Just process.
Mission Two — City Incident Control
Two days later, he reported to the central district. A civilian Machop had snapped during training with its amateur owner—a teenager from some wealthy family who thought disobedience could be fixed by yelling.
Authorities evacuated the plaza. Cadets were deployed to support the senior trainer team.
The goal was protection, not combat:• Maintain perimeter barriers• Keep civilians behind safe lines• Prevent collateral damage• Assist senior trainers if necessary
Unlike the Mankey incident, this Machop was strong. Its blows cracked pavement tiles. The senior trainers engaged it with a Poliwhirl and a Granbull.
Uriah stayed focused.He ordered Vulpix to stand guard near a breached barricade where a kid had slipped past the rope boundary.
"Block the gap," Uriah said calmly.
Vulpix didn't growl, didn't flare its flames. It simply stood there, tail raised, deterring the child from wandering again.
But when Machop broke free of the senior trainers' control for a split second, Uriah reacted without waiting for orders. He stepped forward.
"Vulpix. Ember. Sharp arc. Redirect, don't hit."
A thin ribbon of flame sliced through the air—perfectly missing Machop but drawing its attention just enough for Granbull to land a stagger punch.
A senior trainer shot him a quick glance."You're bold. But your timing's good."
Uriah didn't smile.He just recalled Vulpix once the area was secured.
Aftermath
By evening, points were posted.
Uriah: 46 pointsFar more than any other cadet in the first week.
He didn't care about the number itself.What mattered was the pattern:
Tasks revealed weakness.Weakness guided training.Training built strength.Strength meant survival.
In a world this brutal, affection alone wasn't enough.Discipline alone wasn't enough.
But combined—control, calmness, and focused care—
It was a weapon.
And Uriah intended to sharpen it until nothing could dull it again.