The moment Salamence landed, the air in the Gym shifted.

  The wind stirred harder. The rafters groaned. The dome above shimmered under the pressure of his presence. His wings spread wide—massive, crimson, and imposing. When he exhaled, his breath curled in the air like rising heat from an engine.

  Falkner didn’t flinch. He was calm, collected—even in the face of the dragon.

  From across the field, the Gym Leader raised his fourth Poké Ball. “Then let’s see if you’re as strong as you look.”

  With a flash of light, his next Pokémon emerged.

  Corviknight.

  The steel-plated raven slammed into the battlefield like a falling boulder. Its wings beat once, twice—black-metal feathers scattering tiny sparks across the arena floor. It was taller than most, heavier. Battle-worn, with a scar running across one gleaming eye.

  It didn’t roar. It didn’t flinch. It stared.

  Falkner said only one word. “Begin.”

  (break)

  Al didn’t need to wait.

  “Dragon Dance!”

  Salamence rose on hind legs, wings folding, tail sweeping low. Energy coiled around his frame—speed and power amplifying with every breath. The air crackled.

  “Taunt,” Falkner ordered.

  Corviknight screeched, its cry cutting into the silence like a blade. A wave of oppressive energy burst from its wings, aimed straight at Salamence’s mind.

  It struck—but Al had already planned for this.

  “No more setup. Earthquake!”

  Salamence’s wings snapped open, and he slammed down into the ground. The entire battlefield shook—cracks raced across the stone. The vibration echoed up the walls.

  Corviknight was airborne, wings flaring—minimizing the impact.

  But the shockwave still hit.

  The raven screeched, its flight staggered by the rolling quake.

  “Steel Wing!” Falkner called.

  Corviknight folded its wings in, then blasted forward like a steel missile, gleaming with kinetic force.

  “Fly,” Al snapped.

  In an instant, Salamence launched skyward. Wind exploded beneath him, pushing Corviknight off-course as he arced toward the dome above.

  The collision missed.

  “Circle—dive now!”

  From above, Salamence twisted in midair, banking in a tight spiral. His descent was thunder itself. A crimson comet.

  “Flamethrower!”

  The burst of fire left his mouth before he even touched the ground.

  It hit.

  Corviknight didn’t dodge.

  The steel bird caught the inferno point-blank, crashing into the floor with a shriek that echoed across the Gym.

  The fire didn’t stop at impact—it curled and rolled, licking at the battlefield and leaving scorch marks in a tight circle around the crater.

  Al watched, silent, breath held.

  The flames died.

  Corviknight lay unmoving in a pit of cracked, blackened stone.

  The referee raised her hand. “Corviknight is unable to battle.”

  Al didn’t celebrate.

  He didn’t need to.

  Salamence rose from the center of the destruction, steam curling from his nostrils, the light from above catching the sharpened edge of his wings.

  Falkner returned his Pokémon, eyes narrowed but not surprised. “So you’re not just strong,” he said softly. “You’re disciplined.”

  Al said nothing. His gaze stayed on Salamence. He knew that look in the dragon’s eyes.

  Controlled fury.

  He wasn’t lashing out. He was hunting.

  And Falkner had only two Pokémon left.

  The Gym Leader pulled his next Poké Ball slowly, almost respectfully.

  “This one’s never lost a sky battle.”

  He threw it high.

  Gliscor.

  The bat-scorpion emerged with a snarl, wings crackling in the wind. It landed, tail twitching, claws digging into the stone. It didn’t charge.

  It waited.

  Falkner smiled faintly. “He likes challenges.”

  Salamence growled, wings spreading wider. Sparks danced along the edges of his scales.

  The battle wasn’t over.

  But the tide had turned.

  (break)

  The battlefield still bore the scars of Salamence’s previous clash—blackened stone, shallow craters, and soot trailing through the air like smoke from a battlefield long past.

  But now, the field had grown still again. Tense.

  Above it all, Gliscor hovered in a lazy figure-eight, wings wide, eyes sharp, tail twitching with barely restrained energy. Its crimson gaze never left Salamence.

  Across the arena, Al stood calm. Focused. His breath slow. Measured. He knew what Falkner was doing.

  He was buying time. Setting traps.

  Because Gliscor wasn’t just a flier. It was an ambush predator in disguise—fast, clever, and dangerously tactical.

  Falkner’s voice cut through the stillness. “Gliscor. Stealth Rock.”

  Gliscor rose into the upper dome, clicking its claws. Glowing shards burst from its wings and scattered midair—hovering, floating, and slowly embedding themselves in points along the arena’s inner edge. Razor-edged. Glistening like obsidian.

  “Hazards set,” Al muttered. “Trying to clip future landings. No problem.”

  “Fly, Salamence.”

  His dragon surged skyward again—faster than before. His wings caught the currents around the dome, sending rippling gusts through the gym. The temperature dropped a few degrees.

  Gliscor spun to follow.

  “Roost!” Falkner called.

  The bat dropped low, slamming down into the arena floor, wings folding tight. A glow covered its body as it absorbed surrounding energy, regaining its stamina.

  But Al had seen this coming.

  “Break it. Flamethrower, from above!”

  Salamence wheeled in midair, lining up his angle—and released a column of fire.

  Gliscor leapt away mid-Roost, flames licking the stone it had just vacated. Heat radiated across the gym floor. The burst scattered loose ash and shards of rock.

  “Counter with Ice Fang!” Falkner snapped.

  Gliscor soared up toward Salamence, fangs glowing pale blue, icy mist curling from its jaws. The type advantage was real—if it connected.

  But Salamence wasn’t some lumbering beast.

  “Spin out—then Dragon Claw!”

  Salamence rolled in midair, the Ice Fang slicing past his shoulder and leaving only a shallow scrape. Then he whipped his body around, glowing claws slashing in an arc.

  The blow caught Gliscor across the chest.

  It was flung sideways, spiraling. It caught itself mid-fall with its tail and winged hard to stabilize.

  Al’s eyes narrowed.

  “Push it. Rain Dance!”

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  Salamence lifted his head and roared—not in fury, but command.

  The air pressure changed immediately.

  A deep rumble echoed from the dome’s top, and within seconds, clouds began to swirl against the transparent ceiling. Then—rain. Soft at first. Then heavy, sudden.

  Water pelted the stone. Wind surged. The floating Stealth Rocks glowed briefly before dimming under the assault of falling drops.

  Gliscor’s wings faltered. It could fly in rain—but not well.

  “Thunder Fang!” Al snapped.

  Salamence dive-bombed.

  Falkner shouted, “Dig, now!”

  Gliscor dropped like a stone, claws glowing, burrowing into the floor just before Salamence hit.

  He struck the stone a heartbeat later, claws missing by inches—and the impact cratered the floor.

  Chunks of rock flew. Rain steamed off Salamence’s wings.

  The battlefield looked more like a warzone now—uneven, scorched, and wet. The embedded hazards had dulled, their glow flickering.

  “Get ready,” Al murmured.

  The ground to Salamence’s right exploded—Gliscor erupting from beneath, tail-first, fangs gleaming again.

  “Backdraft,” Al said softly.

  Salamence flared his wings and spun. The gust of wind from his rotation knocked Gliscor off-course, the Ice Fang grazing his side without digging in.

  He didn’t wait.

  “Dragon Claw!”

  He surged forward with shocking force, one massive claw slashing downward—

  Direct hit.

  Gliscor was slammed back into the hole it had made.

  It didn’t get up.

  The referee hesitated—then raised her hand. “Gliscor is unable to battle.”

  (break)

  The rain kept falling, soft but insistent. Puddles pooled in the cracks. Salamence stood in the center, wings wide, drenched but undeterred. Rain streaked off his scales in rivers.

  Al stood still, hands clenched into the hem of his jacket. That had been close. Too close. But they had owned the sky.

  Across the arena, Falkner returned his Gliscor. His lips were pressed in a thin line—but there was something in his eyes now. Respect.

  “Most trainers fold when Gliscor starts flying,” he said.

  “I’m not most trainers,” Al replied quietly.

  Falkner reached for his final Poké Ball.

  “This one doesn’t fly,” he said.

  He paused, then added, almost reverently, “It soars.”

  With a flick of his wrist, the last ball exploded into light.

  And from it stepped Aerodactyl.

  The ancient flier let out a bone-rattling screech, wings snapping open like blades. Its eyes were burning coals. Its body gleamed with prehistoric power.

  Salamence answered with a low, rumbling roar.

  Two apex predators. One final clash.

  (break)

  The remnants of the recent downpour left the battlefield slick, puddles reflecting the overcast sky. The air was thick with the scent of rain and scorched stone, a testament to the fierce clashes that had preceded. Al stood with unwavering focus, his gaze locked onto Falkner, who mirrored his intensity from across the arena.

  Between them, Salamence stood as a paragon of draconic might. His crimson scales shimmered under the diffused light, wings partially unfurled, ready to propel him into action at a moment's notice. His eyes, sharp and calculating, tracked every movement with predatory precision.

  Opposite him, Falkner's final combatant took the field.

  Aerodactyl.

  The ancient predator materialized with a piercing screech that resonated through the gym, causing the very walls to tremble. Its leathery wings snapped open, spanning wide as it hovered just above the ground. Jagged edges of stone and bone adorned its body, a relic of a bygone era where it reigned supreme. Its eyes, cold and unyielding, locked onto Salamence with a challenge as old as time itself: dominance.

  The atmosphere was electric, the weight of the impending clash pressing down on all present.

  Falkner's voice cut through the tension, steady and commanding. "Aerodactyl, let's show them the power of the skies."

  Al's response was a mere nod, his hand brushing against Salamence's flank—a silent signal, a reaffirmation of their bond.

  The battle commenced.

  Aerodactyl was the first to move, a blur of motion as it ascended rapidly, seeking the aerial advantage. Its wings beat with force, generating gusts that sent ripples across the waterlogged field.

  "Stone Edge," Falkner commanded.

  From its elevated position, Aerodactyl's body glowed with a pale, earthen light. With a guttural roar, it unleashed a barrage of razor-sharp stones, each projectile hurtling toward Salamence with lethal intent.

  "Ascend and evade," Al directed calmly.

  Salamence's powerful legs coiled before launching him skyward, wings snapping open to catch the air. He spiraled upward, the stones narrowly missing their mark, shattering upon impact with the ground and leaving jagged craters in their wake.

  The two dragons now circled each other in the sky, the vast expanse of the gym's dome their battleground. They moved with a predatory grace, each assessing the other's strengths and weaknesses, searching for an opening.

  Aerodactyl initiated the next exchange, diving toward Salamence with jaws aglow—a Thunder Fang aimed at exploiting any vulnerability.

  "Counter with Dragon Claw," Al instructed.

  Salamence met the charge head-on, talons enveloped in a cerulean aura. The two clashed mid-air, the impact resonating like a thunderclap. Sparks flew as Salamence's claws raked against Aerodactyl's rocky hide, while the latter's electrified bite grazed Salamence's shoulder, leaving a superficial scorch.

  They disengaged, each retreating a few meters to reassess. The brief encounter had established a crucial fact: while Aerodactyl was formidable, Salamence held the advantage in raw power.

  Falkner's eyes narrowed. "Tailwind."

  Aerodactyl ascended swiftly, positioning itself above Salamence. It began to beat its wings in a rhythmic pattern, manipulating the air currents to create a supportive gale that enveloped its form, enhancing its speed and agility.

  Al recognized the tactic immediately. "Stay vigilant. Use the currents to your benefit."

  Salamence adjusted his wing angles, tapping into the altered airflow to bolster his own maneuverability. The two began a high-speed aerial dance, weaving intricate patterns through the gym's upper reaches. The audience below watched in awe as the dragons became blurs of red and gray, each maneuver executed with breathtaking precision.

  Falkner sought to shift the battle's dynamics. "Aerodactyl, Stealth Rock."

  Aerodactyl ascended to the apex of the dome, releasing a series of glowing stones that embedded themselves throughout the battlefield. These floating hazards shimmered ominously, ready to punish any misstep or grounded movement.

  Al's response was immediate. "Salamence, Flamethrower—clear the field."

  Salamence hovered above the field, taking a deep inhale before exhaling a torrent of searing flames. The fire swept across the battlefield, melting the embedded stones into harmless molten puddles and evaporating lingering rainwater, causing steam to rise and cloak the arena in a dense fog.

  The sudden obscurity added a new layer of complexity to the battle.

  "Use the mist as cover," Al advised.

  Salamence folded his wings slightly, descending into the fog, becoming a shadow within the haze.

  Falkner remained composed. "Aerodactyl, hone your senses. Listen for movement."

  Aerodactyl hovered cautiously, ears twitching as it attempted to detect Salamence's position. The gym was silent save for the occasional drip of water and the distant hum of the building's ventilation.

  Without warning, Salamence struck.

  Bursting forth from the fog below, he closed the distance with alarming speed, jaws ablaze with a Fire Fang aimed at Aerodactyl's wing.

  "Quick, dodge and counter with Iron Head!" Falkner reacted swiftly.

  Aerodactyl twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding Salamence's fiery bite. Its head took on a metallic sheen as it retaliated, ramming into Salamence's side with the force of a sledgehammer.

  Salamence grunted, momentarily thrown off balance, but recovered with a powerful beat of his wings, ascending once more.

  "Now, Outrage!"

  With a deafening roar, Salamence unleashed a barrage of draconic energy, his body glowing with a savage aura that pulsed with raw power. His eyes narrowed, movements becoming faster, more aggressive. The air crackled around him as he darted forward—one strike, then two, then three in rapid succession, claws and tail moving like living weapons.

  Aerodactyl tried to block the first with its forearm, but the sheer weight behind Salamence’s assault broke through. It was slammed backward by the second blow, and the third sent it spinning midair, barely catching itself with a wild flap of its wings.

  "Break free! Stone Edge!" Falkner shouted.

  Aerodactyl roared in defiance and conjured another storm of jagged stones from the air, hurling them toward the charging Salamence.

  But Salamence didn’t flinch.

  He tore through the stone barrage like a bullet through glass. The rocks shattered against his scales, fragments scattering across the gym in a rain of debris.

  He was past the point of hesitation.

  Al’s knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of his belt. He knew this state—Outrage wasn’t just power, it was fury unleashed. He could barely guide Salamence now, only steer that fire toward the right direction.

  And Salamence had only one target.

  The dragon surged forward with a roar that shook the rafters. His claws glowed with pure energy as he drove them down into Aerodactyl.

  The ancient flier screamed as it was sent plummeting, slamming into the gym floor with a crash that cracked the battlefield open.

  Dust clouded the impact zone.

  Al stood frozen, heart hammering in his chest.

  Falkner stared, jaw tight, unmoving.

  The cloud lifted slowly.

  Aerodactyl staggered to its feet, panting hard, wings limp, chest heaving.

  Still conscious. Still standing.

  But barely.

  The glow around Salamence’s body dimmed—Outrage finally spent. He landed hard, nostrils flaring, steam rising from his sides.

  Al clenched his jaw. “Just one more. Let’s end this clean.”

  Falkner didn’t speak. But his eyes told the story. He knew it too.

  This was the final moment.

  “Aerodactyl,” he said, voice low, steady. “One more try. Giga Impact.”

  The fossil Pokémon rose with a scream, body glowing white-hot with kinetic energy. It surged forward, straight toward Salamence, leaving shockwaves in its wake.

  Al whispered, “Hyper Beam.”

  Salamence opened his mouth.

  The golden core built instantly. Faster than he would have thought.

  The two attacks fired at the same time.

  Aerodactyl became a silver meteor.

  Salamence’s beam exploded from his throat like a cannon.

  The two collided mid-field.

  The blast of light was blinding. The sound was a thunderclap.

  Wind tore across the gym floor. Stone tiles were flung like leaves. Even Falkner had to shield his eyes.

  And then—silence.

  Dust and smoke hung in the air, and for a long moment… no one moved.

  Then, slowly, as the light faded—

  Salamence stood.

  Chest heaving. But upright. Steady.

  Aerodactyl lay on the floor behind him, unconscious, body limp, steam rising from its sides.

  It didn’t rise.

  It couldn’t.

  The referee raised her hand high. “Aerodactyl is unable to battle. Victory goes to the challenger, Al!”

  The silence broke into a wave of gasps and scattered applause from those watching from the upper windows. Some trainees who had come to witness the elite match stood slack-jawed. Others stared in reverence.

  But Al didn’t turn to them.

  He walked straight toward Salamence.

  The dragon looked down at him, chest still rising and falling. Their eyes met—and something passed between them.

  Al reached out, resting a hand against Salamence’s neck.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “You were perfect.”

  Salamence let out a low, rumbling purr. Then slowly, finally, lowered himself to the ground to rest.

  (break)

  Falkner crossed the battered battlefield, Aerodactyl safely in its Poké Ball, clipped back to his belt. His robes were torn in places from the explosion, but he walked with quiet pride.

  “You didn’t just battle,” Falkner said. “You commanded. And your Salamence… fought like something out of legend.”

  Al looked up. “He’s always been like that. I just didn’t know how to let him be.”

  Falkner smiled faintly. He extended a small, dark-blue badge—shaped like a falcon’s wing, with a silver star etched at its center.

  “The Storm Star Badge. You’ve earned it.”

  Al accepted it quietly. It was heavier than it looked.

  Not just because it was metal.

  Because it meant something now.