Black City’s skyline took up the entire horizon outside the window. Countless, block-like skyscrapers formed rows of teeth that swallowed the streets. A single, lone monolith of a structure towered behind all of the rest, and it served as a central colossus that drew the eye of anyone who happened to be nearby.

  Beneath us, in the shadows of the buildings, people and Pokémon walked to go about their daily lives. One flock of Pidove flew up to escape a disturbance, and their grey wings briefly interrupted the view.

  “Now then,” Cee said, stepping away from his previous task. “If I am to help you all, I need data. These instruments will track your output and establish a base level, so for this test, channel your choice of energy through your body as if preparing your best move.”

  Looking away from the window, I turned back toward the rest of the room. Wheeled medical devices and specialty instruments sat haphazardly in one half, and the other half possessed training and testing machines that sat in a much more organized grid. Waiting for us were things like treadmills, a weight set, and a big hydraulic press. Although my team was no longer on a battlefield, we hadn’t reached that side of the room just yet.

  Instead, my Pokémon sat or floated around cushioned medical tables—all except for Golurk, who was so large that they had to crouch slightly where they stood. But, with my reappearance at Cee’s side, my entire team shifted around to look to me for permission after hearing what Cee said.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding my head, “we’re following what he asked.”

  Immediately, Rotom’s grin stretched as wide as it could go, and the field of electricity that burst from his body served as the gunshot to signal the start of the test.

  Liepard went on to gain a ghastly black tint, and Metang gained a shining steel sheen. Valiant focused, and around them, they glowed with the not-at-all unexpected aura of telekinetic, Psychic-type blue.

  Meanwhile, Golurk did absolutely nothing, but Cee still nodded in approval.

  “Maintain it,” the masked man said to all of my Pokémon. “This test is about stamina as much as it is about power.”

  For a brief second, Rotom’s smile faltered, and he looked to Valiant as if needing to check on his “opponent” for this “match.” Despite all of his effort to stand at the top, the look he found was defined by a confident focus—but also by a slight-yet-knowing smirk.

  “Just to confirm,” Cee suddenly said at my side, speaking up while observing and taking notes about my team, “an Iron Valiant is a Fairy and Fighting type?”

  “It is,” I replied. “But I bet you’re really asking about why Valiant chose Psychic-type energy.”

  Cee nodded again, but he wasn’t truly paying attention to me. Rather, most of his focus remained on the device connected to all of the wires taped to my Pokémon. It displayed a seismograph-like series of measures that were all printed out onto a long, flowing length of paper.

  “You told them to build energy as if they’re using their most preferred move,” I said while watching the data be inscribed by Cee’s tool. “Valiant might not be a Psychic type, but they’re a Paradox Pokémon, and every Paradox Pokémon has its own ‘backstory.’ An Iron Valiant’s backstory is apparently to be the ‘perfect’ Psychic-type Pokémon, so Psycho Cut ended up being Valiant’s best move.”

  “Ah.” Cee paused slightly before beginning to write even more furiously than before. “Therefore, the resemblance to Gardevoir and Gallade.”

  “Except, like you said, an Iron Valiant isn’t the Psychic type,” I repeated. “But the species does have both of the other Pokémon’s secondary types.”

  Before I had met Valiant, there was one move they had used more than any other, and that one move was Psycho Cut. It was the attack that every Iron Valiant focused on in the wild. That dogged focus on training a single attack was what had let Valiant build their incredible base level of power. But ever since then, working together, we had been able to expand their training and bring them to a brand new level of strength.

  Even now, just seeing how Valiant’s graph compared to the graphs of the rest of my team, my chest puffed up out of pride at how far Valiant had come.

  But that didn’t mean the rest of my team wasn’t strong. We had a high base level. However, we needed to improve ourselves to fight with more than just raw strength.

  That was why we had come here; we needed Cee’s help.

  After letting the process continue for a while, I looked over to Cee, and I found that he’d switched to typing on a keyboard embedded in the sleeve of a long, thick glove. As I tried to peek at its tiny screen, much to my surprise, he actually shifted his arm to give me a better look. Unfortunately, the information on it seemed to be as indecipherable as the information printed on the flowing sheet.

  “I’ve recorded their peak output, and now we’re testing consistency and stamina,” he said, still staring at the rapidly changing images. “We’re yet to move onto the physical tests, but I’ve found that testing a Pokémon’s overall capacity provides an adequate method of measuring their individual strength.”

  “And what does it say?” I asked, still watching the numbers stream in.

  Based on the way Cee’s eyes curved up when he spoke, he seemed to be enjoying this. However, I couldn’t tell if he was smiling at having a chance to finally test his theories, or if he was just the kind of person who appreciated having an audience for his research.

  Honestly, it was probably a bit of both.

  “As you know, a Pokémon’s moves are defined by the energy they channel behind their attacks,” he started. “That energy can take over a dozen different forms, with it vastly changing based on output and intent. This is where the concept of a ‘type’ comes in. Essentially, think of type as that energy’s ‘flavor.’”

  He went on to tap at his glove’s screen again, and the data shifted to display more readable measurements. The specific numbers continued to vary with my team’s testing still in progress, but bar graphs that stretched up above my Pokémon’s names represented the status of each member of my team.

  Although it sometimes shifted, the order in which my team appeared generally stayed the same:

  VALIANT - ROTOM - METANG - LIEPARD - GOLURK

  With that, Cee resumed his speech.

  “That being said,” he continued, “all types are merely shifts to the same core energy that a Pokémon wields, so measuring the raw output can weakly represent a Pokémon’s raw strength. At the start, your Rotom took the lead, but it quickly fell off once its initial charge was exhausted. Since then, your Iron Valiant has stood firmly at the top, and its control—its consistency of output—is surprisingly well-maintained for its level of power.”

  “However,” Cee then said, his eyes beginning to linger on one graph in particular. “By far, your Liepard is the most interesting to me. Ignoring your Golurk, it stands firmly at the bottom.”

  I frowned. Golurk was releasing no energy at all, but tracking the bar graphs on Cee’s tiny screen, there was a vast difference between Liepard’s bar and the bar that represented Metang in third place.

  “Liepard is not weak,” I said.

  “Oh, I know,” Cee immediately replied, his voice gaining an amused tone. “Right now, you’re looking at raw power, but if I change how the data is displayed...”

  The screen shifted to show an entirely new order:

  LIEPARD - VALIANT - METANG - ROTOM - GOLURK

  Practically out of nowhere, Liepard’s bar graph suddenly skyrocketed to tower past the rest. Valiant’s numbers remained firmly in second place, and Metang’s became surprisingly low. And then, somehow, Rotom’s presence was almost just as non-existent as Golurk’s absence at the bottom.

  “Consistency,” Cee said, and that single word seemed to linger on his tongue. “Not every Pokémon relies on raw power, and this graph represents another method to measure what your Pokémon can do. If not through sheer output, then a Pokémon’s strength also comes from how it wields its energy. Your Liepard might not carry the most power, but the sheer control it possesses? Hah! Its potential impresses even me.”

  Given how his expression remained hidden behind his mask, I hadn’t expected Cee to laugh at all. With that noise, I could tell that he wasn’t just appreciating these tests—he was outright loving what was going on.

  I wouldn’t call his yellow eyes manic, but they were certainly staring down at the screen with the utmost focus. Cee might have been responding to my comments, but it was as if he was doing so unconsciously, and it was as if it was just to brag.

  There was more I wanted to ask about this process, but for now, I held back to give the man time to conclude his tests.

  Rotom was the first to fall off, and then Liepard eventually came to a rest after him. Metang wanted to keep going, but Cee personally stepped in, telling that metal Pokémon to cease his output ‘lest he cause permanent damage.’

  Then, only Valiant and Golurk remained, but Golurk was... just kind of standing there and not glowing.

  “Your Iron Valiant possesses an incredible amount of energy—by far, the most out of any Pokémon on your team. Your Golurk, however?”

  “Isn’t doing anything,” I said with a slight sigh.

  “Yes. It never started to channel its energy in the first place,” Cee said, still amused. “From past research, I believe that implies a more unconscious use of its power, but even a lack of data can be a point of data. So you don’t need to worry—I will get my measurements once we move on to the physical tests.”

  When Valiant finally had to give up their focus, the smooth crystals on their body flickering from exhaustion, Rotom did his best not to react to how Valiant had “won.” However, Valiant didn’t have any time to brag or celebrate; Cee immediately had my team shift to the physical equipment on the other side of the room. There, they began to undergo tasks like running on the treadmill as fast as possible, lifting as much weight as possible, and using all of their strength to punch a large metal sheet that had force monitors attached to it.

  Why there was a hydraulic press in here, I didn’t know. For our purposes, it went completely unused.

  Rotom’s ghostly body meant he could contribute little, but Cee was finally able to get readings from Golurk, and Golurk turned out to be the most brutish of brutes. They only ever used their internal energy unconsciously and while in the process of an attack. Otherwise, they solely relied on their enormous, clay body and the raw strength that came from their size and weight.

  Thankfully, that wasn’t necessarily an issue.

  “Amazing,” Cee said, finally looking up from his gathered data, and I helped him pull off all of the various electrodes from my Pokémon. “This is the first time I’ve been able to go through such a complete measurement of a team’s strength. Normally, I’m limited to one or two Pokémon at most.”

  “You don’t test your own team?” I asked. Based on what I’d seen online, his Pokémon were all pretty impressive.

  “Unfortunately not,” he replied, clicking his tongue. “My command over my Pokémon would only see the data tainted.”

  As we pulled back all of the monitoring equipment from my exhausted Pokémon, my team practically collapsed onto the floor. Liepard even went to lie down as if to sleep, but even with everyone else’s tiredness, they still listened in on my conversation with Cee to hear his analysis and plan.

  “I have finished gathering the sum measurements of your team’s current capabilities,” he said, finally looking up from his glove’s screen. “We’ll use that as the baseline for our upcoming month. As you train, these results will allow us to make more detailed plans and track any improvements your Pokémon show.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “So we’ll be doing this again?” I asked.

  Cee wiggled a hand.

  “Not often. Maybe once a week at most, or only once the month is over. Perhaps more if a Pokémon demonstrates a sudden, unexpected development—which is honestly more expected than you might think—but for now, take this. I’ve taken the liberty of summarizing your team.”

  He tapped his glove once more, causing a beep to ring out. The monitoring device back in the first half of the room printed out another piece of paper, and Cee walked over to tear it away and place it in my hands.

  It carried less text than I’d thought.

  It was all numbers and graphs, but they were familiar numbers and graphs. I had to hold back my smile when I realized the data under each image of my Pokémon matched the ‘stat’ summaries that would appear in the games.

  However, the specific stats were different. Rather than categories like ‘attack,’ ‘defense,’ ‘special attack,’ and ‘speed,’ Cee had measured their capabilities. While ‘speed’ stayed the same, I could see that these categories consisted of labels like ‘stamina,’ ‘control,’ ‘power,’ and ‘durability.’

  I had no idea how half of these had been recorded—especially ‘durability.’

  “Wait. Hold on. You’re kidding me.” I had to look over the sheet again. “Golurk and Rotom are my strongest Pokémon?”

  To that comment, Cee didn’t even blink.

  “At the moment of impact, and while they still have the energy? Absolutely,” he answered, but he then leaned closer to tap on the sheet and point at the other stats. “However, your Rotom possesses the least stamina out of all of your Pokémon, and when it comes to participating in battle, your Iron Valiant continues to stand at the top due to its practiced, well-rounded nature.”

  “...Huh. I guess so,” I mumbled, skimming through the sheet one more time. “Their graphic is kind of like a pentagon, but everyone else’s is... a lot more jagged. Golurk has almost no speed, and Rotom has almost no stamina. Metang might be strong, but he’s split almost entirely between stamina and power at the loss of everything else. And then Liepard...”

  Liepard’s graph resembled Valiant’s, but it was smaller in every category except ‘control.’ There, the number shown was the largest value out of anything here.

  “Yes. Your Liepard,” Cee said, his voice soft. “A Pokémon that, by all means, should not be able to fight at the same level as your others, but it has somehow found a niche in which its presence can work.”

  He paused.

  “No. A niche in which its presence can shine.”

  Liepard cried out his name as if to protest the first part of Cee’s statement, but his cry quickly faded out as Cee continued to elaborate his thoughts. It was as if Liepard wasn’t able to determine if Cee’s comments were complimentary or insulting, but honestly, he didn’t truly care. His meow was more of him reminding us that he was still there instead of being a genuine protest.

  Once I looked his way, he went back to lying down.

  Silently, I watched him track where Rotom zipped around to inspect all of the possessable, nearby machines. Rotom might not have had much stamina, but he was a Pokémon that could recover quickly. Liepard watched him while continuing to rest, and he would occasionally snap his mouth toward where that Electric-type floated. It was as if he was biting at Rotom’s position as a form of practice—he was hunting Rotom with his eyes as part of some one-Pokémon game.

  “I think, even with all of this, it’s still good to remember that my Pokémon and I are a team,” I said, taking in all of the supposed stats printed on the paper. “We’ll lean into my Pokémon’s strengths, and any weaknesses we might have can be made up for by relying on our other team members.”

  “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to build a team, but you cannot forget your ultimate goal,” Cee said, keeping his voice even as he watched my expression. “We both witnessed that battle together. Do not forget Cynthia’s Pokémon. Tell me—did she fight with one Pokémon making up for the weakness of another, or did every Pokémon on her team fight with enough strength to stand on its own?”

  I found myself going silent. Cee’s words had struck true. My goal was to reach Cynthia’s level, but every Pokémon on her team was the equivalent of Valiant’s role on mine.

  When one of Cynthia’s Pokémon had a weakness, it made up for that by fighting in a way that maximized its own strength rather than relying on another team member to fill in the gaps. Just when considering her Gastrodon, that slug-like Pokémon had been slow, but its speed hardly mattered when it could withstand any attack and retaliate with an even stronger attack of its own.

  “Of course,” Cee continued, pushing through my lack of response, “Cynthia stands at the very top of the very top, and there are plenty of other trainers at or near her level who rely much more on team interplay. Ignoring his Charizard, Galar’s Leon utilizes a highly interconnected team. And your own Paldea’s Geeta might not be the strongest, but her strength lies in her strategy alongside how well her team fights together.”

  “...Maybe that’s where I get it from,” I mumbled.

  I put the sheet down to look back at Cee.

  He stood there, watching me, and ended up speaking first.

  “If I had to describe your team, I would describe it as one that utilizes support to maximize raw offense. Your Rotom and Liepard set up situations where your other Pokémon can shine, and then you blitz down your foes in a storm of pure power.”

  “Except Rotom is also an attacker,” I immediately countered. “Same as Liepard. Liepard’s accuracy and critical hits make up for any ‘weakness’ he might have, and you’ve personally seen just how strong Rotom can be. I mean, he almost took out your Magnezone with just one Thunder!”

  “Was that what happened?” Feigning casualness, Cee tapped his chin. “Because what I remember is my Magnezone stopping your Rotom’s attack with a single use of Protect.”

  I wanted to try to counter his point, but I was only able to stand there and be annoyed.

  Not because he had brought that up, but because I knew Cee was completely right.

  “So that’s one area we’ll need to focus on,” Cee said, taking a quick note. “Relying on pure offense is fine, but for it to properly work, it must be supported by a worthwhile strategy.”

  With that, Cee stepped away from me, moving to a table pressed against the wall of the room. Everything else here seemed to have been brought here hastily, but the laptop he started to type on seemed to have been intentionally placed.

  “So,” I said. “What should we do now?”

  Cee had gathered the specific data he’d wanted, and now, we needed to solidify a plan.

  “There are two things you need to be aware of before we begin,” the man replied, typing rapidly on his computer. “There’s a tournament coming up in about a month, and there’s also Black Tower itself.”

  “I know about Black Tower,” I said, sending a glance back to the window behind me. From here, I was still able to see that monolith of a building that loomed above all the others. “It’s a challenge. For trainers. You defeat stronger and stronger opponents in battle, and you climb through its floors. But, what tournament? Like, a general one? I thought the World Coronation Series doesn’t host any tournaments until the end of the year.”

  “Ah, but consider this:” Cee didn’t even look up from his computer. “Competing trainers need points to climb the ranks, and to get points, they need battles. Yes, there will be an official series of tournaments for every rank at the very end of the season, but what about the rest of the year? And everywhere else? Do you really think that every other city in Unova wants only Castelia to be the one to draw the crowds?”

  “So there are other, official—”

  “Semi-official,” Cee corrected.

  “Semi-official tournaments taking place elsewhere,” I continued. “Okay. I think I might have heard about one or two before. So Black City has one at the end of the month? And you want me to compete?”

  “No,” Cee replied, and I fully expected him to continue with something along the lines of, ‘You are not going to compete, you are going to win.’

  But he didn’t say that at all.

  “I couldn’t care less about whether or not you sign up for that tournament,” Cee said outright. “Instead, we’ll be using it to represent a time limit. You have a different goal to complete before then.”

  “Hold on, if you just wanted to set a time limit, then why even bring up that tournament?”

  I’d been halfway toward securing myself a stool, but Cee’s statement caused me to stop and stare.

  “Because knowing about the tournament adds context to the current events in Black City,” Cee said, still typing. “The tournament is open to trainers of every rank, and that means a greater potential to defeat high-level trainers and earn many points at once. Then, as Black Tower already serves as a challenge to lure in trainers, what do you think happens when the World Coronation Series hosts a semi-official tournament scheduled to take place here at the start of next month?”

  I went quiet as the implication settled in. My mind swirled with intent.

  “More trainers will come,” I whispered.

  “Black City will become more populated than ever, and Black Tower will become more difficult than ever,” Cee said, leaning back as his work on his computer slowed down. “Trainers of all types will be drawn to this city in preparation for the tournament, and every person planning to compete will also be attempting to climb.”

  Finally, Cee hit a certain button on his computer, and the lights dimmed in the room. My Pokémon looked up and over from where they sat in rest as a central projector turned on. Cee kept talking, but he stood to face where light now shone on an empty wall.

  “Testing a hypothesis requires minimizing the number of variables, but Pokémon battles are nothing but variables. The next best solution is to generalize the data set; therefore, every trainer attempting to climb that tower will unknowingly join our experiment. However, only you will have the benefit of my presence.”

  “I’ll be tracking both you and every trainer climbing Black Tower,” Cee continued, walking over to stand next to the projector’s glow. “Every floor’s matches are streamed and recorded. And, those matches will reveal their teams. For that reason, I’ve managed to narrow your goal even further. You will be climbing Black Tower as a form of training, but that’s not your primary objective. Instead, you will be climbing to reach a specific opponent that I have in mind.”

  With the projector on and the lights dim, Cee tapped his glove, and the pure white image changed to mirror what was on his laptop’s screen.

  I was speechless.

  He’d made a slide slow.

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure if Cee already had this prepared, or if he had just made it while we talked.

  But right there, taking up the entire first slide, was the image of a young man with fiery red hair. The energy behind his eyes, as well as his familial resemblance, meant it took me no time at all to recognize him.

  “Benga,” I said, naming the boy.

  “Indeed. Benga. The trainer who currently occupies the highest of Black Tower’s floors. Also, the trainer currently placed at Rank 33 overall, and a boy who has benefited greatly from being Ex-Champion Alder’s grandson,” Cee said. “He is your ultimate target, and he is the trainer we will be training you to defeat. However, do not be intimidated. He might seem strong for his age, but I very much doubt that he’ll be making it past the tournament’s first round.”

  I snapped my head toward Cee.

  “What?” I asked.

  For some reason, I pictured him as having a distinctly amused grin beneath his mask.

  “Benga has occupied the very top of Black Tower for quite some time. He’s participated in far too many publicly-streamed battles. He’s easy to plan for, even with his team’s strength. As long as he’s placed against a decent opponent, he stands to be defeated. I fully expect him to drop several hundred ranks.”

  “He’s suffered from his own exclusivity,” Cee continued. “Not many trainers make it to the top of Black Tower and face him in battle. He practices, but the limits of his public position have seen his skill decay. I am fully confident that one month of practice will bring you and your team into a position in which he suffers a defeat.”

  “In fact—”

  Cee hit another button on his glove, and the screen ahead of us changed. Instead of just displaying an image of Benga, I now saw the young man animated in a recorded video.

  Within it, a battle took place, and a grey Garchomp tore into its opponent with razor-sharp teeth. A dark green Dragonite blasted its foes with wings that conjured a hurricane. Then, a twin blur of red and blue swooped onto the field, and I felt my breath hitch when two Pokémon made an appearance—the Legendary siblings of Latios and Latias worked together to sweep their opponents away.

  I looked over to Cee.

  This was the opponent he was so confident my team would beat?

  At least, my Pokémon seemed eager. Already, Metang rolled his shoulders, his red eyes locked onto the Legendary pair.

  “I see your doubt,” Cee suddenly said. “But, look closer. Remember Cynthia. Remember her fight. Compare her to him, and you will see what I mean.”

  I did.

  And it didn’t take me long.

  Benga might have been strong, but he was no Champion.

  His Garchomp could not match up to the power emanated by the sheer presence of Cynthia’s ace. His Dragonite might have had power, but it lacked the finesse wielded by Cynthia’s Togekiss. As for Benga’s pair of twin Legendaries, those two were powerful. However, I could tell that they relied on their species’s innate, Legendary strength rather than anything they personally trained for battle.

  “For my plan to work, you must defeat Benga before he falls, likely earning yourself enough points to reach the Ultra Rank in the process,” Cee said. “However, do not fool yourself; your team cannot beat Benga as you are now. He may have his weaknesses, but his team still stands above yours. He might be doomed to fall, but do not interpret that as you being fated to rise.”

  “Valiant is a dragon slayer,” I countered. “We can—”

  “Defeat two pseudo-Legendary Dragon types and a pair of perfectly in-sync Legendary Pokémon?” Cee stared right into my eyes. “No. You need experience. You need practice. You need training. So, if you want to win, you will follow my plan.”

  Once again, the image shifted. This time, I was left looking at a full diagram of Black Tower.

  The details were specific enough that I chose to not question how Cee had acquired this.

  “Fifty floors,” the man said. “Fifty floors to reach where Benga serves as the final challenge at the very top. With the restrictions that come with such a placement, that is the only way you might battle him, and with the many elite trainers now present here in Black City, this will serve as a worthwhile enough challenge to bring your team to an acceptable level of strength.”

  Hah. All of that just to reach an ‘acceptable’ level?

  At least I know his standards aren’t too low.

  “And achieving this will let us reach the Master Rank?”

  When Cee let out a laugh, I sent him a short glare, but I also knew I was being unfair. This plan was only for the immediate next month.

  We’d need to climb fifty floors in what was roughly twenty-eight days. We would have to climb an average of about two floors each day. That didn’t seem to be too unreasonable when it came to reaching Benga, but—

  “The challenge will grow in difficulty as you near the top,” Cee said, almost reading my mind. “Expect to gain a great deal of initial progress only for it to slow to a near halt. You will hit walls. You will be stopped. I fully expect you to struggle. However, every challenge that you overcome will develop your strength, and you will need all of that if you are to succeed in this goal.”

  Silently, I stared at that diagram.

  Fifty floors.

  In one month.

  My team was already analyzing the graphic, and I knew it’d be hard, but with enough effort, my team would win.

  However, I had one more question. I almost didn’t want to ask it, but I knew I had to.

  I had to know.

  “How long would a challenge like this take someone like Cynthia?” I asked.

  “Her? One week, I suppose. And that period is only so long due to the time restraints tied to the sheer number of required battles, as well as the need to physically climb the floors to reach the top.”

  I wanted to claim that I could do the same, that I could reach the top in a single week. However, that would have just been useless bragging from a trainer who couldn’t back it up. Compared to her, we were weak, and I’d never allow myself to forget that.

  But we had the drive. We had the potential. As long as we worked hard, we would catch up.

  “Every day, you will train with me, and every night, you will climb that tower,” Cee said. “But for now—”

  He looked over to me, and before I knew it, I was already running out of the building with a camera strapped to my shoulder. My team had rested plenty long enough after their testing, and they were all back in their Pokéballs.

  I was charging toward that one building that towered above the rest, and my task for the rest of today sat at the forefront of my mind:

  Every floor “cleared” in Black Tower was a checkpoint, and I could return to the tower to continue from that floor later on. But for right now, to start everything off, Cee wanted me to climb as many of the “easy” first floors as possible before it hit midnight.

  However, he had no plans for us to climb so easily. He had assigned us a restriction that’d test my Pokémon as well as my potential as a trainer:

  For this initial push, on each floor, I could only bring one Pokémon with me at a time.

  In other words, even a single loss would see my ‘entire’ team defeated and my progress on the floor reset. Today, my Pokémon would not be allowed to faint. Each and every floor we faced would need to be completed ‘flawlessly’ if we wanted to have a proper start to our climb.

  For those of you who haven’t played B2W2, is a canon character. His role is exactly what’s described in this chapter—he’s the grandson of , and he’s the final Boss of / .

  Additionally, after completing those challenges, he provides the player character with a gift Pokémon. In Black 2, you receive a shiny Gible, and in White 2, you receive a shiny Dratini. For that reason, when combining his two different teams, I’ve made both his Dragonite and Garchomp appear as shiny.

  Pokémon mentioned in this chapter:

  Dragonite (Shiny)

  / /

  Nick’s Team:

  Current Placement: Great Rank

  (Note: Low-level moves have been omitted.)

  Iron Valiant (Valiant) (Fairy / Fighting type, Genderless, Serious Nature, +-n/a)

  Abilities: Quark Drive

  Moves: Fury Cutter, Feint, Dazzling Gleam, Psycho Cut, Night Slash, Close Combat, Shadow Claw, Electric Terrain

  Rotom (Electric / Variable type, Genderless (Male), Quirky Nature, +-n/a)

  Available Forms*: Default (Ghost type), Fan (Flying type), Wash (Water type), Mow (Grass type)

  Abilities: Levitate

  Moves: Charge, Thunder Wave, Discharge, Shadow Ball, Thunderbolt, Thunder, Electric Terrain, Variable*

  Variable Form Moves*: Air Slash (Fan), Hydro Pump (Wash), Leaf Storm (Mow)

  Liepard (Dark type, Male, Naughty Nature, +Atk/-SpD)

  Abilities: Limber, Prankster

  Moves: Assist, Snarl, Fake Out, Bite, Torment, Hone Claws, Slash, Taunt, Night Slash, Shadow Claw, Psycho Cut, Encore, Foul Play

  (Steel / Psychic type, Genderless (Male), Adamant Nature, +Atk/-SpA)

  Pokéball: Ultra Ball

  Abilities: Clear Body

  Moves: Take Down, Metal Claw, Confusion, Zen Headbutt, Magnet Rise, Iron Head

  (Ground / Ghost type, Genderless, Brave Nature, +Atk/-Spe)

  Pokéball: Ultra Ball

  Abilities: Klutz

  Moves: Shadow Punch, more to be added

  enormous thank you to everyone reading! Your support keeps this story going.