The second round began the moment the bell rang, but Rai didn't wait for it. He didn't need to.
Gyarados surged forward from the pool, scales glistening with water and light, its massive body coiling like a spring loaded with rage. The splash as it slammed across the gym's surface nearly sent a shockwave through the tiles—but Rai was already moving.
Not fast.
Instantaneous.
One moment he stood still, and the next, he was gone—just a blur of arcing voltage. He moved like a storm striking from nowhere.
Misty shouted, "Aqua Tail!" more from reflex than hope.
But Rai didn't dodge. He closed.
Gyarados twisted, tail lashing downward with the force of a wrecking ball—but Rai went vertical. His leap carried him over the attack, then straight into the serpent's face, a crackling orb already forming on the edge of his tail.
"Thunder then Iron tail," Cyel said softly—finally giving a command.
It was permission, not instruction.
The impact landed with a sound like a lightning strike caught in a steel drum. Gyarados reeled back, stunned, its body convulsing midair. Electricity danced across its fangs and horns, surging down its spine into the water—lighting up the entire pool like a blown generator.
Rai landed, crouched low, still smoldering.
Gyarados teetered, trying to roar—but only managed a choked snarl before slumping forward, eyes rolling back.
The referee stared for half a second before slamming the button again:
GYARADOS – UNABLE TO BATTLE! MATCH VICTORY: CHALLENGER CYEL.
The water hissed and spat around the edge of the pool. Even the lights flickered overhead.
Misty stood motionless for a moment, her arms at her sides, before slowly returning the fainted Gyarados.
She looked across the arena—not angry. Not even embarrassed.
Just… thoughtful.
"You're a monster alright," she said quietly. Before looking up "You're something else!"
Cyel said nothing. She just holstered the empty pokeball back to her hip and nodded once, turning on her heel. Riachu catching up and hopping on to her shoulder.
"Wait," Misty called after her.
Cyel paused.
"…That Raichu of yours," Misty continued. "He's him, isn't he? You finally managed to convince him to evolve?"
"She made his own choice," Cyel replied, without turning. Her voice was even—neither boastful nor humble. Just matter-of-fact. Final.
Misty stood still for a long second, then sighed and walked forward. From her jacket pocket, she drew a small, gleaming object—shaped like a blue droplet of water set into a silver frame.
The Cascade Badge.
She extended it silently.
Cyel finally turned, just slightly. She didn't reach for it. Rai did—gracefully hopping down from her shoulder, padding forward on quiet paws, and plucking the badge from Misty's open hand with two tiny foreclaws. The Raichu padded back, tail still sparking faintly, and leapt back up onto Cyel's shoulder.
No words.
Just a badge. Just another step forward.
Misty gave a crooked smile, folding her arms. "For what it's worth… you earned it. I don't care what the rumors say."
Cyel met her eyes briefly. "Good. There is a reason I left you know."
Misty watched them leave, her fingers tightening slightly around Gyarados' Dive Ball. The air in the gym still held the charge of the battle it actually smelled of static and that Riachu only released a handful of electric attacks.
===
Walking back to base was rather nice the city had calmed since the Gym match. Tourists filtered past the fountains near the Pokémon Center, snapping photos of Lapras sculptures and browsing vending stalls. From the outside, Cerulean looked calm—sunlight on pavement, wind in hanging flower boxes.
But Cyel felt it in her core.
A wrongess
Not fear. Something colder.
She she pulled up the hood on her hodie and stepped off the main street, moving like she wasn't in a hurry. Not running. Not ducking. Just walking.
But her eyes flicked.
First mirror. Then window. Then the glint off a car's side-view glass.
There—same figure, third time now. Not close. But always in line of sight.
They didn't look like a Rocket. Or League. No insignia, no posture. But they moved too carefully for a tourist.
Definitely tailing.
Cyel turned at the next light and headed down an alley between a closed Poké Mart annex and a wall plastered with old Ranger recruitment posters. Her boots splashed once in a puddle, and she made it loud on purpose—counting.
One... two... three...
Soft splash behind her.
Gotcha.
She exhaled through her nose, calmly unclipped her Poké Ball holding Rai and threw it.
The red light burst mid-spin, humming through the narrow alley as Rai landed hard and low, crouched like a coiled spring. His tail sparked once as it swept the ground behind him, scattering droplets of water with a faint tsshhht of evaporating moisture.
Cyel didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
Rai was already staring down the alley, nose tilted upward just slightly, catching the faint trace of static in the air—his version of a warning growl.
The footsteps stopped.
Then came the voice. Cautious. Neutral.
"I'm not here to fight."
Cyel's eyes narrowed. She didn't step forward. But she did raise her hand slowly—index and middle finger extended—and made a subtle downward flick. Rai stayed low but began circling out to the side like a wolf flanking prey.
"Then stop following me," she said flatly. "That's what gets people electrocuted."
A figure emerged, hands half-raised, palms out. Civilian clothes—hoodie, travel pack, no obvious weapons or Poké Balls in-hand. But the kind of person who didn't accidentally tail a Champoin-class trainer through Cerulean.
Cyel didn't blink.
"You're not Rocket," she said. "You're not League. Who are you?"
The figure hesitated. Then, quietly, he stepped forward into the light.
Cyel's eyes widened. "Bill?"
He blinked. "You… know me?"
Cyel shifted her weight, not lowering her hand but easing the threat slightly. "Yeah. There's a story there. You're kind of a legend in certain circles. PokéTransfer, early storage tech… even your—uh—'mishap' with the teleporter."
Bill grimaced. "That story gets around."
Cyel smirked faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Now tell me why you were tailing me."
Bill's expression turned serious again. "Because I traced something. A signal."
She didn't move, but she felt Rai shift behind her again—still on guard.
"A few days ago, a dormant network woke up. Something that shouldn't exist anymore. It piggybacked off League maintenance relays, reactivated two pre-Silph frequency routers, and spiked a bunch of hidden mesh points buried in Kanto's infrastructure using Instinct reactivation codes—some of which I helped design." Bill met her eyes. "That signal came straight from Cerulean."
Cyel's jaw tightened.
"I cross-referenced the packet headers and routing logic," Bill continued. "They matched a system of unknown origin, however only a few people ever had access to those codes. Something the League shut down hard."
"…Pokenet:Online," Cyel said softly, tone unreadable.
Bill nodded. "Exactly. And the uplink sending amessage out across all Pokenavs wasn't just passive. It was broadcasting. Alive. Updating from a orginI couldn't trace directly. At first."
His gaze flicked toward the bag slung at her side, just for a second.
Cyel didn't flinch. But she didn't deny it either.
"So what now?" she asked, voice low.
Bill paused. Then said, "Now? I want to know what you're doing with it. If you're going to break every security protocol I've ever written—at least let me help you not get caught."
Cyel narrowed her eyes. "You're serious?"
"I'm serious," Bill said. "Because whoever built that system was decades ahead of where we are now."