A soft summer breeze stirred the canopy above, sending dappled sunlight flickering across the mossy forest floor. Leaves rustled gently in the treetops, a constant whispering presence, while the sharp chirp of a Kricketune echoed like distant music. Somewhere deeper, a flock of Murkrow scattered with a startled kraaah, their silhouettes darting across the sunbeams.
The air was rich with the scent of pine and blooming honeysuckle. Jake Lindenberg, nearly seven now and no longer the tiny boy who clung to his mother's leg, sat cross-legged beside his uncle Frank on a flat rock overlooking a quiet clearing.
Jake took a long drink from his water bottle, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a chocolate donut wrapped in a napkin. He carefully unwrapped it and set it on a paper napkin.
"This one's for Charmander," he said proudly.
His shiny little friend was nearby—at the edge of the clearing. Charmander's orange scales gleamed in the light like copper coins, his tail flame flickering lazily. But what held Jake's attention now was not the peacefulness. It was the show.
Standing a few meters away was Frank's ace. Tall Quaquaval named Donald, the elegant and powerful Water/Fighting-type. With fluid precision, the Pokémon struck a pose—arm out, knee bent, plumage fanned wide—then rolled into a graceful spin, launching a mock kick at the air.
At the beginning of Quaquaval's training, Charmander had been just sitting and watching intently. But after a few minutes, the small lizard now stood up and tried to mirror the same poses. His short legs wobbled. His stubby arms flailed. His coordination was so far from Quaquaval's. But still, he gave it his all.
"Char! Char! Charmander! Char!!"
The older man chuckled. "He's been doing that for almost fifteen minutes. Think we've got a future Battler or Dancer on our hands?"
Jake laughed and hugged his knees. "He's really trying hard. Look at that tail wiggle!"
Frank leaned back on his elbows, letting the sunlight warm his face.
"You know, last year around this time, you were freaking out about your first day of school and Charmander was still in his egg."
Jake shook his head in disbelief. "Uncle Frank, that was ages ago!"
"I'm just saying!" Frank grinned, "I remember you clutching Charmander's egg like it could break any minute. And now look at you. Second grade's just around the corner, and you're out here training like a junior ranger."
Jake shrugged bashfully. "I'm still nervous about the school… but it's easier now, since it starts in a few days. And Charmander always makes me feel braver."
Frank gave a thoughtful nod. Quaquaval struck another stance—this one a firm downward smash of its palm into an invisible boulder. Charmander scrambled to copy it, but tripped on a root and rolled over with a surprised "Char!"
Jake stifled his giggle. "He'll get it."
"Bet he will," Frank chuckled. "He's stubborn just like you."
They sat quietly for a moment, watching wind ripple across the tall grass. Butterfree fluttered lazily above the treetops. Somewhere, a twig snapped—but it was only a passing Deerling.
"Mom's always tired now," Jake said suddenly, changing the topic.
Frank turned his head, sensing the shift to more serious mood.
"Because of the twins," Jake added. "Nikki cries really loud. Deni doesn't cry as much, but when she does, she's worse than grandpa's Exploud."
Frank laughed. "Sounds about right."
Jake hesitated. "Is it always that hard? Taking care of babies?"
Frank scratched the back of his neck, caught off guard by the sincerity.
"Yeah, it's tough sometimes. They keep you up. They cry when you're trying to eat. They don't listen. But then… they smile at you like you're their whole world."
He looked at Jake and added, "Kinda like how your mom looked at you when you were born."
Jake blushed. "...She looked at me like that, too?"
"Even when you threw up on her three times in the same hour."
Jake burst into laughter.
"But when you were little, your dad was around until he landed that job with the League," Frank continued, recalling even older memories.
"You must step up now and help your mom as much as possible..."
Jake nodded slowly. "I know that. But dad comes home sometimes… every two months or so. We eat dinner. He tells stories. And says he misses us too."
Frank sighed. "Of course, he does. But the good news is, since he joined the royal guards, we haven't seen a single Sleeper near our Ranch."
Jake didn't answer right away. He was staring off at the trees, eyes unfocused.
"You okay, big guy?" Frank asked.
Jake squinted toward the shadows. "When we were underground with those bad people, those poachers… I remember how dark it was. And how you held my hand. I was so scared."
Frank's voice was steady. "You were brave. Braver than most grown-ups would've been."
Jake finally looked up. "Are there still poachers?"
"Sometimes. Lone ones," Frank admitted. "But nothing like what we've been through. We catch them early. Things are quieter now. More peaceful. That's why we can chill out here right now, in the middle of the afternoon."
"Good," Jake nodded with a smile, "that means no Pokémon in cages."
Frank smiled at Jake's sense of good and bad, but before he was able to answer, something else happened.
A faint shimmer of light caught their eyes. Charmander, still trying to copy Quaquaval's training, had struck a new pose—this time with both arms out, stance solid. And something was glowing.
"Hey, look," Jake said slowly, pointing, "what's that?"
Charmander's right paw gleamed with a soft, golden light. As he swung it downward in a mock punch, the grass below shivered from the force. It wasn't perfect—but the earth felt it.
"What was that?" Jake wondered with eyes wide open.
Frank blinked, then whipped out his phone to scan the small Pokémon who was just as surprised as the humans.
"Hold on… let me see…"
===
Charmander
Level: 4 to 9
Name: N/A
Gender: Male
Type: Fire
Affinity: Fire (Full)
Moves: Scratch (4 to 9), Growl (1 to 7), Fire Spin (1 to 7), Sunny Day (3 to 8), Smokescreen (2 to 8), Rock Smash (0 to 2)
Abilities:
Blaze – Powers up Fire-type moves when Charmander's health is low
Weak to: Ground, Rock, Water
Resistant to: Bug, Steel, Fire, Grass, Ice, Fairy
===
Charmander was on 9th level, still trying to make the jump from the zero-star to one-star level. And since Jake was not really training his lizard friend, it made sense.
A small chime rang.
"Wow! That's a real new move!" Frank beamed.
"Which one?" Jake asked with excitement, while Charmander was watching his glowing paw with uncertainty.
"Rock Smash. Looks like watching and copying Quaquaval paid off!"
Jake gasped. "You did it, Charmander!" He ran forward and threw his arms around the hesitant lizard, who blinked in surprise and then happily chirped.
"You've got a new move, buddy!"
Charmander wagged his tail proudly, when it realized what happened.
"You're so awesome," Jake whispered, when he felt Charmander's pride about what happened.
Frank slowly walked over to them.
"Listen, you two. Rock Smash will be very useful, so you keep training it."
"What do you mean, uncle?"
"See, Charmander is now vulnerable to rock-type moves. And when he evolves into Charizard, he would take even more damage from those attacks. Do you get it?"
"Ehm..." Jake was thinking with his mouth wide open. Charmander was just blinking, not understanding what they were talking about.
"Take your time," Frank grinned at them.
"Yes!" Jake shouted with glowing eyes after a few seconds, "Rock Smash is super-effective against rock-type Pokémon!!"
"Exactly. So as I said, you two should train this move on a daily basis."
"We will. Right, buddy?"
"Char! Char!!" Charmander jumped up for a high-five.
Frank looked at his watch, then quickly stood and dusted off his pants.
"Alright, Champion Junior. I mean champions... Time to march home."
Jake pouted. "Already?"
"Your mom will need help with the twins. And rumor has it your aunt's making pancakes shaped like baby Pokémon. "
Jake brightened. "Like... Squirtle pancakes?"
"Char! Charmander!" the Pokémon made an annoyed noise.
"Oh sorry, I meant like Charmander pancakes?" Jake corrected himself with a laugh, which made Charmander put on a smug and satisfied expression.
"Haha! Only if we get there before Monika eats them all."
Jake grabbed his bag and ran ahead. Charmander waddled after him, still throwing miniature karate poses once in a while. Frank with his Quaquaval followed behind, smiling with amusement at the sight of his nephew disappearing down the trail—older, taller, a little braver, but still wonderfully Jake.
Above them, the forest breathed easy, alive with summer and sunlight and the quiet promise of things to come.
The hush of the forest lingered long after the clearing had been left behind.
Frank and Jake walked along a narrow trail dappled in sunlight, which pierced through the leafy canopy like golden spears. A few lazy Beedrill buzzed high above the treetops, while somewhere deeper in the woods, a Kricketune chirped its shrill, violin-like tune. Beneath their boots, the underbrush whispered with the hush of dry grass, and now and then, a distant rustle betrayed the presence of curious watchers.
Quaquaval strutted ahead of them, chest puffed out, occasionally striking slow, deliberate fighting poses. Every jab and twist of its wrist stirred the humid air around them, creating a powerful torrent of energy around them that even the forest held its breath for the dance. Charmander, as he had for the past ten minutes, kept imitating the Water/Fighting-type with exaggerated flares of drama—tail flame swishing, claws slicing at invisible enemies.
Jake giggled, biting into a snack bar Frank had pulled from his rucksack.
"He thinks he's a big deal now," the boy grinned.
Frank smirked, "give it a few years, and he'll be trying to lecture Donald on form."
They shared a chuckle as Charmander spun, lost his footing, and tumbled backward into a bed of moss, tail flame flickering in embarrassment. Quaquaval paused and gave a graceful, approving nod as if to say, you'll get there, rookie.
"Still..." Frank glanced around. The forest had grown oddly quiet, save for the whisper of Pokémon just out of sight.
"You notice 'em?"
Jake tilted his head.
"Yeah. Everybody's watching us. I can hear them, but they are hiding or something."
"Yep," Frank said. "They're well-behaved. Or more likely, they're afraid. None of 'em will mess with a seven-star strutter like this one." He jerked a thumb at his Quaquaval.
"I can't wait until Charmander is strong enough so he can scare the wild Pokémon off, too!"
"Char! Charmander!" the lizard immediately agreed as it couldn't wait as well.
"Well, I would give it a few years, but you guys are on the right track!" Frank laughed.
The trees began to thin. With each step, the dense woods gave way to swaying grasses and familiar smells—wild mint, drying pine, the distant tang of Pokémon feed.
Soon, the forest broke entirely. The trail ended on a sun-drenched meadow. Parked casually beneath a leaning pine stood a battered yellow jeep, its roof frame missing, its back stuffed with Pokéballs in labeled boxes. Grazing beside it, elegant and calm, was a Wyrdeer—thick antlers aglow with gentle psychic shimmer.
Inside the jeep, leaning on the wheel with one arm out the window, sat a wizardy looking old man. It was Petr Procházka—Frank's father and Jake's grandfather. His grey long gandalf-like beard was sun-bleached, and his sharp green eyes had the distant, unfazed look of someone who'd once stared down a Bouffalant in the wild and told it that it couldn't pass. Only a pointy hat was missing from his wear.
"Well, well," Petr said with a grin. "The forest let you boys out, eh?"
"Just barely," Frank replied. "What about you, dad? Catch 'em all?"
Petr tapped the side of his jeep and pointed towards his Wyrdeer.
"Rudolf here did most of the work. Found every one of the Pokémon in under an hour. Luckily, the jeep is driving just fine, you know. Otherwise it would take us much longer."
"Why couldn't Rudolf carry you, grandpa?" Jake asked.
"That's a good question!" Frank grinned.
"I'm too old for such ride. And he's probably as well," Petr laughed.
Rudolf the Wyrdeer lifted its head and snorted proudly before returning to its grazing.
"Wanna a lift, boys? Or are your feet making more blisters today?" Petr asked.
"Yes!" Jake exclaimed immediately and ran towards the jeep with Charmander following him.
Frank returned Quaquaval to his Pokéball.
"Let's get in."
Jake climbed into the back, settling Charmander on his lap. Grandpa Petr started the engine with a cough and a rattle, and they rumbled off, kicking up golden dust in their wake with Rudolf trotting after them.
The yellow jeep made a brief stop outside the Battle Ranch's Pokémon Center, where Petr handed the marked Pokéballs to a young nurse behind the counter.
"These are for transfer—Accelgor, Rotom, Quilava, Golem, Milotic, Crocalor, Cacturne, Charcadet, Starly and Dunsparse," he listed the caught Pokémon, ticking off their names on a clipboard.
"Thank you, I'll make sure to send them straigth to their trainers!" the nurse replied with a nod.
Then they drove on, weaving through building and fields dotted with grazing Pokémon until they pulled up to the Procházka house—a warm, two-story homestead near the heart of the Ranch complex. The garden buzzed with lazy energy. A female Pyroar lay sprawled in the sunlight, snoring gently. Mightyena, on guardian duty, paced along the fence perimeter, tail swishing with purpose. In the kitchen window, a Dachsbun could be seen perched on a stool, trying to peer over the counter.
As the trio stepped inside, they were instantly hit by the smell of frying pancakes and the sound of someone scolding a Pokémon.
"Rex, I swear, if you touch that bowl—"
"Yip!"
Rachel Procházka—Frank's wife—stood in the kitchen, spatula in hand, glaring down at the kitchen's golden-baked dog, Dachsbun Rex, who was trying very hard to appear innocent while inching closer to a bowl of dough.
Beside her stood older woman with dyed blonde hair. It was Lucy, Frank's mother and Jake's grandmother, she chuckled while flipping pancakes on the stove. On the floor, a round Slurpuff waddled around, licking everything with sticky enthusiasm, including the table legs.
"You lick one more thing and I'm returning you to your Pokéball," Rachel frowned at the creature. The Pokémon gulped and quickly left the room, probably to lick things out of its trainer's sight.
From behind the doorframe, a flash of black fur darted in, and Rachel's Liepard Luna slinked up to Petr, brushing against his legs with a dramatic mrowr, clearly demanding attention.
"Hi, guys," came a bright young voice. Monika—Frank and Rachel's daughter, a year older than her cousin Jake—rushed in from the hallway. Clinging tightly to her shoulder like a backpack with tiny claws was a small, purple, grinning Impidimp.
The Impidimp bared its teeth in what may have been a smile—or a threat—and dropped from Monika's shoulders, landing with a bounce. It immediately ran to poke Charmander in the belly.
Charmander blinked, looked stunned for a second, then let out a little playful growl. The two Pokémon circled each other before bumping foreheads and breaking into a tail-and-ear wiggling dance that was somewhere between friendship hug and a duel.
"They do that every time," Monika said proudly, "it means they're best friends."
Jake crouched down beside them. But they quickly broke apart and Charmander ran to the garden to wake and greet Deena the Pyroar, another fire type.
"He's weird," Jake commented, watching Impidimp try to hang from Wyrdeer's antler like a swing. Surprisingly, Wyrdeer didn't mind it and let the little rascal play along.
"You're weird, cuz'. Impi's awesome. Just like me," Monika said with a proud grin.
"I don't think Grandma and Grandpa made a very good call getting this troublemaker for your birthday," Frank rolled his eyes after hanging his jacket by the door.
"Hi, auntie! The pancakes smell great!" Jake exclaimed and Charmander joined him with an excited chirp.
"Don't touch them until everyone's seated!" Rachel warned instead of greeting.
Monika laughed. "Too late—Slurpuff already licked the forks."
The scent of grilled pancakes and ripening jam hung in the warm summer air, drifting over the tall stone fence. The garden buzzed gently with Pokémon and people, voices rising and falling in familiar, sun-dappled rhythms.
Frank stepped away from the others, holding a half-folded napkin in one hand and a phone in the other. As he stepped onto the path of smooth riverstones leading through the garden, his boot tapped a sleeping Seedot and it rolled lazily into a clump of flowers.
"Whoops. Sorry, pal," he murmured, chuckling as the Seedot blinked and nestled deeper into the petals.
"Sis. Hi, it's Frank," he spoke into the phone when Eva Lindenberg finally answered.
"Everybody is here at our place. Even Jake. Do you want to join us? ... Perfect. I send Girafarig over to fetch you. Okay? ... Right. He'll be right there!"
Under a patch of shade near a plum tree, his Girafarig rested with legs folded beneath its striped body. The tail-head blinked in unison with the front one as Frank knelt beside it.
"Hey, lazy-ass," he said, patting its neck. "Can you do me a favor? Could you bring Eva here for dinner? She could use a little family time. Jake's already here."
Girafarig's eyes began to shimmer faintly with psychic light, and a low hum filled the air. Then, with a soft pop of displaced energy, it disappeared into the ether.
The garden behind Eva and David's home was wilder as nobody had time to care for it properly. A pond glimmered at its center where Swanna floated idly, dipping its neck with regal grace. On the pebbled edge, a Ribombee hovered lazily beside a lounging Sizzlipede, who sunned itself like a hot pepper warming on a stone. Group of Slowpoke was chilling, or maybe just sleeping with their opened eyes nearby.
The sliding glass doors creaked open, and Eva stepped out, blonde hair tied into a messy braid, a baby in each arm. Her movements were slow and deliberate—balancing toddlers, fatigue, and mental checklists with the quiet resilience of a exhausted mother.
Trailing behind her was Lenny, her ever-loyal Venomoth, who was dutifully levitating a small caravan of supplies behind her—diapers, bottles, a folded blanket, a baby rattle shaped like a Shuckle.
Eva paused at the sound of the teleportation hum. She turned and saw her brother's Girafarig blink into place near the edge of the garden. Her shoulders slumped.
"Oh... I thought I would have at least five more minutes..." she muttered under her breath, then gave Lenny a soft nod. "Grab the pacifiers, please. You know which ones..."
Venomoth shimmered off toward the nursery window, zipping back with a silvery blue pacifiers in its psychic grip. Eva blinked tiredly, glanced at the babies, then back at the waiting Girafarig.
"All right," she whispered to herself, barely louder than the breeze. "Just for a little while."
Then she stepped closer to Girafarig.
"Okay, let's go."
The Pokémon started to gather psychic energy and then in a flicker of light and soft wind, she was gone.
Back at Frank's home, the living room was already alive with chatter and the clinking of plates. Through the open windows, the smell of warm berry jam mingled with chocolate and butter.
As Eva reappeared in a gentle psychic shimmer, she was immediately greeted with laughter and a flurry of movement.
"Give them here!" cried Lucy, her mother, rushing forward with a practiced grandmother's efficiency. Rachel was only a step behind, followed by Monika, clutching her Impidimp under one arm like a reluctant plushie.
"Careful! Nikki's still asleep," Eva warned, but she was already handing the girl off.
Monika's face contorted with playful jealousy as she watched Rachel cradle the baby.
"Mom," she asked abruptly, "Why don't I have a brother or sister?"
Rachel smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Because… sometimes life chooses one child, and that has to be enough."
Monika didn't press. Her gaze dropped and she for once did not have any comeback. Then she glanced at the baby's wristband and her eyes twinkled with diabolous intention.
"This one's Nikki, huh? What if someone switched their tags?"
Rachel raised an eyebrow, a corner of her mouth twitching. "What, like a baby heist?"
"You never know," Monika said with a sly grin, and Impidimp mimicked it perfectly, baring its fangs in a goofy smile.
Rachel laughed and handed the baby over. "You're trouble, just like your dad."
"And just like you!" Monika grinned, before she hugged her mom.
Rachel hugged her back with a half-sad expression.
"I can't have more kids, but at least I have my nephew and nieces..."
The family gathered around a wide oak table in the back garden, shaded by a lazy awning of Wisteria vines. Frank's Pyroar, Deena, lay belly-up in the sun nearby, snoring like a tractor-sized engine as Charmander failed to wake her up. Summer the Mightyena stopped pacing along the fence and joined the sleeping Pyroar. In the kitchen, Rex the Dachsbun skittered across the tiles, hot on the heels of Slurpuff, who was half-covered in flour.
The table was filled with bowls of pancakes, jars of homemade spreads, and plates of fresh berries. Charmander nibbled on a burnt Poké Puff beside Jake, who sat with his chin propped on one hand.
"So," said grandma Lucy, ladling cream onto her plate, "school's starting again soon. Are you two excited?"
"I am!" Monika beamed. "I want to tell Klára and Filip about how Grandpa took Impidimp to fly with his Unfezant Silver. And about the trip to Olmeria! And about those people from Kanto!"
"Slow down, missy," Rachel laughed. "One story at a time."
Then grandma Lucy turned to Jake. "And you, Jakey? Looking forward to seeing your friends?"
Jake hesitated, eyes flicking to the baby in his aunt's arms, then down to his plate.
"Yeah… but…"
"It's that Mark kid again, isn't it?" Frank asked, brow furrowing.
Jake nodded slightly, poking at his pancake.
"You don't have to talk to him," said Eva with a faint frown, adjusting the baby in her arms. "Focus on your friends. You've got good ones."
There was a pause.
"Mom?" Jake asked. "Could I maybe… invite them over sometime?"
Eva opened her mouth to reply, but the baby began to squirm and cry. She sighed, standing up to rock her gently.
"I don't think I could plan something big for you this time," she said, regret in her smile. "I'm really sorry, Jakey."
Jake nodded. "That's okay. I think we could do something simple. Maybe go camping by the lake."
Frank grinned across the table. "I'll keep an eye on them. Don't worry."
Rachel leaned over to tousle Jake's hair.
"Invite them during the Saturday Brawl. The kids would love the Pokémon action. And you'll be the coolest kid in your class!"
"I don't know about that..." Jake frowned.
"And screw that idiot Mark!" Monika added.
"Monika, language!" Eva gasped.
"What, auntie? He's an idiot! And we should totally egg his house!" Monika replied with smug expression.
Jake smiled and giggled, his mouth full of the pancake. Beside him, Charmander puffed up proudly, clearly thinking he'd be the star attraction of Jake's classmates' sleepover again.
Across the table, Monika leaned closer to her Impidimp.
"I'll invite my friends as well and they will all adore you!"
The Impidimp stuck out its tongue, then remotely high-fived Charmander with a playful shriek.
From the shade of the plum tree, Girafarig watched the family with serene stillness, tail-head blinking lazily.
The long wooden table still held the remains of dessert prepared by grandma Lucy the cook—berry crumble crusts and Poképuff crumbs dusted across plates—when Petr Procházka leaned back in his chair with a soft groan of satisfaction and patted his stomach.
"Well," he said, glancing at his two older grandchildren with a twinkle in his eye, "don't you two forget that you can also tell your classmates about other adventures."
Jake and Monika perked up at once.
"Like what?" Monika asked, her cheeks still dappled with raspberry juice.
"Oh, I don't know…" Petr drawled, clearly baiting the hook, "maybe the time we went halfway across the world to Paldea, perhaps?"
That did it.
"THE FIGHT!" Jake shouted and jumped up, nearly tipping his chair.
"The fight between that Armarouge and Ceruledge! In Porto Marinada! Remember, Grandpa?"
The table burst into laughter. Even grandma Lucy paused mid-tea-sip and raised a brow.
"They were battling over a melon," Petr said, mock-serious. "Truly, a historic conflict. The Melon Wars of Marinada."
"In elvish, melon means friend," Rachel nudged her daughter.
"Mom, you're such a geek!" the little girl giggled.
"It was like a mini explosion every time they clashed," Jake said, eyes alight. "Flame Blades, Shadow Claws, and the poor vendor just kept shouting something like, '¡Mis frutas! ¡Mis frutas!'"
"Best. Melon. Fight. EVER!" Lucy added dryly, raising her teacup in salute.
Monika was already launching into her own memory.
"And do you remember that Maschiff?" she giggled. "The one that kept licking Jake's face like it was glazed with peanut butter?"
Jake scowled. "I was just trying to eat! But that Pokémon was awesome! I wish we could have brought it here."
"Ugh," Monika grinned. "We already have enough doggos at home. Dad's team is practically a kennel. What are we at now—Mightyena, Houndstone, and Dachsbun?"
Frank put a hand to his heart. "Excuse me, those are all highly trained, loyal—"
"Drool machines," Monika cut in, making everyone at the table laugh.
Petr guffawed, and Jake snapped his fingers as another memory hit.
"Oh! And the Toedscool!"
Rachel raised one eyebrow at her nephew. "What have you done with that?"
"It looks like a Tentacool," Jake said, "but it's a mushroom! It walks on its tentacles like they are legs! I spent ten minutes trying to get it back in the water before a local kid told me it doesn't even swim!"
Eva chuckled, ruffling his hair. "You tried to rescue a fungus Pokémon. That's very on-brand for you."
"Oh, oh!" Monika was practically bouncing. "Remember when we got lost in that Arboliva's grove, and Jake tripped because he stepped on a Bramblin?"
Jake groaned. "It looked like a weed!"
"And Charmander went nuts!" she wheezed. "Started blasting Fire Spins like it was a boss fight!"
Charmander, now sitting in Jake's lap, gave a proud little chirp and puffed a few harmless sparks from his snout. It could never admit that it was startled by the rolling weed Pokémon.
Lucy waved her fork like a conductor's baton.
"All of you forgot the Capsakid restaurant."
Her husband, Petr sank in his chair. "Oh no…"
"You insisted you could handle their special Scovillain chili!" Lucy said, grinning like a child about to spill a secret. "And then you went full Arcanine using Flamethrower—before gasping for air like a Magikarp on land!"
"I was simply… respecting their culture," Petr muttered turning even redder.
Rachel laughed so hard at her father-in-law, she nearly choked. "What a hero."
Monika fanned herself. "And those Scovillain just sitting around the patio grinning like they knew what they did."
"They were so smirking," Jake confirmed solemnly.
"But there was also that Tinkatuff in that place," Monika sighed dreamily, "she was so cute. And deadly. Like me."
"You're eight," Rachel said flatly.
"So what. I'm still deadly!" Monika stuck out her tongue.
Petr chuckled. "And do you kids remember when we saw that Farigiraf? Makes you wonder when or rather if Frank's Girafarig will ever evolve."
Everybody turned to Frank, but he only raised a brow.
"Don't pressure us. Evolution comes when the time is right. Or when Girafarig finds time and inspiration to learn Twin Beam."
"It's not that," Rachel added, "He doesn't want to lose his biting tail. That's why he's still unevolved."
The laughter settled gently like feathers, drifting into warm silence. Eva, who'd been mostly quiet, gave her father and mother a fond look across the table.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For taking Jakey there with you."
Petr gave a small smile. "Of course, he was a joy."
"It means the world," Eva added, her voice full of emotion. "Especially since I couldn't take him anywhere. The twins are so small then, and... well, I needed it. To know Jake gets to see the world a bit."
"You needed a break, Eva" Lucy said, her voice kind. "And you know, it's always a gift for us, too—time with our little champion."
Frank smirked and leaned forward towards his daughter and nephew. "But let's be honest, kids. If you two didn't see Koraidon or Miraidon, was the trip to Paldea even real?"
The kids were just frowning at him, while Rachel snorted at her husband. "You've been to Paldea yourself. What did you see? Lechonk?"
Frank lifted his shoulders in an innocent shrug. "Well, I've seen Wo-Chien."
Monika frowned. "What's that?"
"A huge, grassy, legendary snail."
Jake gasped. "Legendary? You've seen legendary Pokémon?? No WAY!"
Frank winked. "Way."
"And I thought those two knight-like Pokémon fighting over that melon were legendary..." Monika added, "or at least that reason to fight was legendary!"
"See, honey?" Eva turned to Jake with a warm smile. "You have plenty to share about your trip. I bet your friends will be in awe when you tell them all about it."
Monika nudged Jake with her elbow. "What about your garden friend? Did you tell him about that trip yet?"
Jake opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, Charmander suddenly sprang to life in his arms.
"Char! Char, Charmander, Char, Char!" the little lizard chirped wildly, tail flaring with enthusiasm.
Jake blinked, startled by the surge of emotion he felt in his head due to holding Charmander—the sudden image of a green-shelled Turtwig running across the garden, headbutting pebbles and hiding in the grass, flashed through his mind.
"That's your answer, Mon!" Rachel laughed, "Charmander's practically giving us a TED talk over here!"
Impidimp, who'd been lounging on Monika's lap chewing on a napkin ring, perked up and scuttled into the open. At the sight of Charmander's energetic gestures, he let out a warbling kehehe! and joined in with shrill chatter.
Within seconds, the two Pokémon were hopping and chirping, spinning and squawking in a full-blown duet of excitement.
"Okay, okay!" Petr chuckled, hands raised. "Watch out! The garden is big enough, you two monsters!"
"They're going to reenact the whole summer," Lucy sighed, grinning as she reached for her tea.
"I hope they leave out the chili part," Petr muttered.
Girafarig chilling under a nearby tree lifted its head and the antlers started to shine. The dancing and jumping duo was suddenly lifted into the air and moved off the table.
The warm laughter of family faded into background hum as Petr's phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, squinting at the caller ID.
"Ah," he muttered, sighing. "It's Joe."
Jake's ears perked up at the name of his paternal grandfather, and even Charmander stopped dancing and cocked his head, tail flame flickering slightly brighter with curiosity about the message from the Frontier Brain.
"Evening," Petr answered the phone. "What's the matter, pal?"
Joe Lindenberg's voice came clear and firm through the speaker.
"Hi, Pete. Hope I'm not interrupting anything. I've got a challenger here. Are you free to be the ref for this one?"
Petr rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His wife Lucy looked at him and didn't miss a beat. From some hidden pocket she pulled out a chilli pepper and waggled it in front of him.
Petr frowned.
"Yeah, I'm free. Send the monkey. I'm at Frank's place."
Not ten seconds later, the temperature in the garden seemed to drop by a hair. The wind stilled. Then—a shimmer in the air. It rippled like heat haze, then bent inward. A tall, white-furred figure with calm eyes and flowing violet sash emerged from thin air with no sound—Joe's Oranguru, appearing in the middle of the garden as if it had always been there.
It gave a slow, almost meditative nod.
"Someone want to come and see the match?" Petr asked over his shoulder, slipping on his coat.
He barely finished the sentence when Jake leapt to his feet with a grin. Charmander was already ahead of him, hopping in circles, tail flame blazing in excitement.
"Of course!" Rachel smirked. "I can't imagine a battle going on without our Jakey being there and seeing it."
Oranguru raised its hand, eyes beginning to glow a soft lavender. A circle of psychic energy enveloped Petr, Jake, and Charmander—and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
They reappeared with a faint pop and a rush of warm, humid air that hit them like a pillow soaked in bog water.
Jake wrinkled his nose. "Ugh."
Charmander sneezed with embers flying out of its nose. Even Oranguru shivered as the smell hit it.
They stood on the edge of one of the strangest and most dangerous arenas in the entire Battle Ranch. The Swamp Field, located just downwind from the ranch's wastewater treatment plant. Huge filtering tanks and rusted pipes loomed behind tall fencing, spewing faint steam and making the air taste faintly of metal and rotting algae.
The battlefield itself was a natural hazard course: uneven terrain, thick reeds, bubbling greenish mud, and pools of murky water that shimmered with rainbow-hued oily films. Stone platforms jutted up from the muck—battle stages in an otherwise sunken marsh. Buzzing insects flitted above; Croagunk croaked from unseen shadows.
From across the swamp, Joe Lindenberg stood tall and bald, his gray cloak rustling slightly in the fetid breeze. He waved at Petr and Jake as they stepped forward across one of the dry stone platforms.
Next to him stood a figure Jake didn't recognize at first.
She was elegant and tall, dressed in a stylized coat of deep purple and black, her hair coiled dramatically beneath a sculpted hat, violet eyes shimmering with theatrical flair. One hand rested on her hip; the other held a lavender Poké Ball.
Jake's jaw dropped. "Wow! I've seen you on TV! You were a coordinator in Hoenn!"
The lady smiled.
"In Sinnoh, mon petit chou. Je m'appele Fantina."
"What?" Jake looked at her, not understanding a single word.
"Sorry," she laughed, "name is Fantina and I come from Sinnoh."
Petr arched a brow and turned towards Joe. "Huh. You didn't say we were hosting celebrity today."
Joe chuckled.
"I'm traveling the world. I want to challenge as much skillfull trainers as possible—so of course I came here," the lady explained.
"Are you qualified for the frontier match?" Petr asked.
"Come on, she's famous and stuff," Joe joked and lightly punched Petr in the shoulder.
"It's your rules, man," Petr shrugged.
"Oui, of course," the lady smiled, "the trainer was very good. And had only dark-types."
"Dark types? Was it Bran?" Jake guessed.
"Oui, c'est the name. Monsieur Rivenhall. He had Thievul, Bombirdier and to my suprise a paradox Pokémon, the paldean Amoonguss."
"Let me just check the records," Petr took out his phone to check the battle records and confirm that Fantina's battle against ranch senior trainer Brandon Rivenhall - a local dark-type expert was carried out according to the Frontier rules.
"Sorry, madame," Joe half-apologized with an embarassing expression, while Petr was clicking on his phone.
"No reason for apology."
"Okay, Mrs Fantine. The battle results are recorded and I can confirm that you have won the qualification round. Meaning you are good for the challenge. Shall we proceed?"
"Oui."
"Yes!" Jake answered instead of his Lindenberg grandfather, making all the adults laugh.
Petr raised his voice above the constant insect hum. "Let's go over the rules."
Joe gestured toward the field. "I offer two options," he said. "First, the standard match—three Pokémon, each level around four or five stars. Or..."
He smiled, eyes glinting. "You can take the hard road: your full team of six... against just one of mine. But I'll be using one of my eight- or nine-star Pokémon. A survival test."
Fantina's lips curved into a confident smile.
"Ah, but of course," she said with her odd accent.
"The challenge... it is the whole reason I came here, non?"
She raised her hand and flicked her wrist theatrically. "I choose... the second option. One powerful beast! Let us see if this place is truly worthy of the stories I have heard."
Petr nodded, punching the match details into his phone. "Six-on-one challenge. Confirmed."
Jake bounced on the balls of his feet. "This is gonna be awesome."
Charmander chirped and clapped his claws together excitedly. A distant boom echoed from the swamp, and bubbles surfaced ominously from one of the deeper pools.
"Okay, let's make this even more interesting," Joe continued, "I have my Oranguru, Trevenant and Hitmonchan with me. Which one of those would you like to face?"
"If I may choose, then I would like to fight your Hitmonchan. Merci."
"As you wish," Joe turned and walked to the edge of the field, already preparing a Poké Ball that pulsed with golden energy—one he rarely used.
From the rock by the side of the battlefield, Petr turned to his grandson and murmured with a grin:
"Hang on tight, kiddo. This isn't going to be your average Gym match."
"Grandpa's gonna win, right?"
"Only if you cheer loud enough!"
A thick mist hung above the swamp battlefield, the boggy terrain bubbling here and there beneath a slate-grey sky. Around the field's perimeter, sparse stands of reeds swayed in the breeze, the waterlogged soil squelching under every step. Petr Prochazka, in his casual clothes covered with a long coat, stood at the center between both trainers. His grandson Jake, his Charmander in his lap, sat with wide eyes near the spectator platform, surrounded by a few staff members, visiting trainers and Pokémon caretakers who came to watch the battle as well.
Joe Lindenberg stood tall and calm on his side of the field, arms behind his back. His bald head was glowing in the twilight sun, and his battle coat fluttered gently in the wind. Across from him, Fantina twirled once with a dramatic flair, her purple dress catching the air as she threw her first Pokéball high.
"Drifblim, to the skies!" she called.
The Pokéball burst open in a swirl of pink and violet light. Drifblim emerged with a ghostly moan, its massive balloon-like body hovering above the swamp as its yellow streamers drifted like lazy tentacles. A sinister grin stretched across its face, and its red eyes narrowed at the opposing side.
Joe nodded slightly, then rolled his shoulder.
"Hitmonchan. Let's show them what we've got."
The Fighting-type burst forth in a blur of light, landing on the ground in a low stance. The Pokémon's fists gleamed beneath their wrappings, each knuckle capped with steel from long, intense training. A serious scowl was etched onto its face.
===
Hitmonchan
Level: 99
Name: N/A
Gender: Male
Type: Fighting
Affinity: Fighting (Full)
Moves: Drain Punch (93), Mach Punch (91), Vacuum Wave (97), Detect (73), Quick Guard (71), Bullet Punch (75), Thunder Punch (69), Ice Punch (63), Fire Punch (68), Trailblaze (73), Agility (78), Mud-Slap (67), Poison Jab (78), Encore (71), Throat Chop (85)
Abilities:
Keen Eye – Accuracy cannot be lowered
Iron Fist – Boosts the power of punching moves
Inner Focus – Prevents Hitmonchan from flinching
Weak to: (Flying, Fairy,) Psychic
Resistant to: Rock, Bug, Dark
Weakness Removed: Flying, Fairy
===
Jake gasped with admiration. "Whoa… I don't remember seeing Grandpa's Hitmonchan fight!"
"It means you are in for a treat," Petr winked at him.
Then he raised his arm and announce. "Let the battle begin!"
"Drifblim, Stockpile now!" Fantina ordered.
The Ghost-type opened its gaping mouth and inhaled a rush of spectral wind, its body inflating slightly as it stored energy inside.
Joe's voice was calm and precise. "Agility."
Hitmonchan's eyes flashed. Its legs began to blur as it took off across the field in a zigzag, bouncing lightly from one patch of dry land to another. Its form shimmered with residual energy, speed now significantly boosted. Being the higher-level Pokémon, it executed the move almost instantly, completing the process before Drifblim had even finished absorbing the air.
Fantina's brow twitched. "Shadow Ball! Stay airborne!"
The balloon-like specter floated higher and began lobbing dense black orbs toward its opponent. But Hitmonchan's boosted speed made it a blur across the terrain. Each Shadow Ball struck nothing but mist and mud.
"Closer, Drifblim! Engage it directly!"
Drifblim descended rapidly, arms outstretched.
Joe gave no command at first. Hitmonchan's eyes narrowed—and then in a blur, its fist struck forward.
"MACH PUNCH!"
A glowing burst of energy exploded from Hitmonchan's glove. The punch connected directly with Drifblim's core.
A sudden burst of wind howled out from the point of impact—and then Drifblim fell limp in mid-air and hit the ground with a soft thud.
"What?!" Fantina gasped. "A Fighting move…? Drifblim should be immune to that!"
Even Petr's eyes widened in surprise at such quick execution. "Drifblim is unable to battle!"
Jake jumped up and clapped, grinning wildly as Charmander hopped along beside him, puffing a small burst of flame in joy.
"Do you think you could knock that Drifblim out with one move as well?" the boy asked.
"Char! Charmander..." the little lizard sighed and shook his head.
"Well, we have to train and one day you'll do it!"
"Char!" the Pokémon agreed.
Joe folded his arms across his chest again, a faint smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.
Fantina returned Drifblim with a look of disbelief but nodded slowly. "So… your Hitmonchan isn't just quick—it's really overpowered."
"But that's why you came here, didn't you?" Joe reacted.
She smiled. "Bien sur. This shall be delightful. Let's keep going."
Her next Pokéball snapped open.
"Go, Yanmega!"
From the light burst a monstrous, dragonfly-like Pokémon. Its sharp emerald wings buzzed at incredible speed, and its compound red eyes gleamed menacingly.
"I have Speed Boost on my side," Fantina murmured. "Let's see how that Hitmonchan fight against that!"
Yanmega zipped forward, a greenish blur.
"Tailwind and then Wing Attack!"
Joe gave a nod. "Quick Guard."
Hitmonchan crossed its arms in front of itself. A transparent barrier shimmered into existence just as Yanmega streaked in with a slicing Wing Attack. The hit rebounded harmlessly.
"Uhh... Bug Buzz instead!" Fantina countered.
Yanmega backed off, then let out an ear-piercing screech. The sonic pulse ripped straight through Quick Guard and rattled Hitmonchan, who staggered slightly.
"Fire Punch!" Joe barked.
Flames erupted along Hitmonchan's glove as it lunged towards the screeching dragonfly.
"Minimize!" Fantina said quickly.
Yanmega's form seemed to shimmer and flicker, becoming translucent and harder to track. Its Speed Boost activated again, propelling it even faster.
"Easy, easy… focus," Joe said quietly to his partner.
Yanmega zipped in again, preparing a crushing Wing Attack.
"Vacuum Wave!"
Hitmonchan snapped its arm forward, sending a spiraling pulse of air slicing into Yanmega's chest mid-flight. The Bug-type screeched and tumbled to the ground, wings twitching.
"Yanmega is unable to battle!" Petr declared.
Jake whooped, nearly dropping his Charmander in excitement. "Two in a row!!"
Fantina slowly exhaled. "You really are what I expected, Monsieur Lindenberg. A true Pokémon master. It's been so long since I've faced one."
Joe inclined his head. "Both Drifblim and Yanmega showed potential. With time, they'll become terrifying to face."
Petr cleared his throat. "Please call your next Pokémon."
"Froslass, to the field."
The Ice/Ghost Pokémon emerged gracefully, her ethereal white cloak billowing around her ghostly frame. She let out a haunting cry—and hail began to fall from nowhere, crystals slicing gently through the air as the swamp chilled.
Joe smiled. "Agility."
Hitmonchan's body glowed again, its steps light and near-invisible across the frozen swamp.
"Now, Froslass—Ice Beam. Aim for the legs."
The first shot struck the water behind Hitmonchan, then another carved a narrow trail in the muck where Hitmonchan had just been. Ice sprayed upward.
"Mach Punch."
Hitmonchan dashed in—but Froslass vanished into the storm of hail.
"Avalanche!" Fantina called.
From above, a crushing wall of snow smashed down. Hitmonchan vanished beneath it.
"Now—freeze it!" Fantina shouted.
Froslass raised her arms and a chilling gale surged across the swamp, locking the mound in a glacial embrace.
Joe raised a hand. "Very good call. It must have worked like charm against weaker opponents."
"We're not done yet," she raised one arm, a strange ornament on her bracelet glowed, "Mega evolve!"
Froslass' body started to shine and then it get bigger and when the light disappeared a figure in a long skirt was revealed.
"What's that?" Jake gasped at that.
"That's a mega-evolution," his maternal grandfather explained, but he was also in awe.
"But I didn't know that Froslass can megaevolve!" the young boy frowned.
"Neither did I," Petr shook his head.
"Hex!" Fantina ordered and a beams of violet eerie light shot towards Hitmonchan, frozen and buried beneath the snow.
"Now!" Joe commanded.
Suddenly the snow began to shake. A fiery glow burned inside—whoosh!—a swirling tornado of flame and air exploded from the mound. Hitmonchan leapt out, cloaked in a flame vortex made of Fire Punch and Vacuum Wave.
"Destiny Bond," Fantina ordered, her voice low.
Joe's eyes narrowed. The first trace of a frown touched his face.
"Throat Chop, now!"
Hitmonchan's fist, crackling with dark energy, slammed into MegaFroslass's neck. The Pokémon let out a breathless gasp and collapsed midair while shifting to its standard form.
Petr raised his hand. "Froslass is unable to battle!"
But a violet mist began curling around Hitmonchan's limbs. Destiny Bond's was being activated.
Jake pointed. "What's going on?!"
Even Fantina stared with curious expression.
Then Joe raised Hitmonchan's Pokéball high into the air. Hitmonchan replied and lifted his arm. Wrapped around it was a thin white strip—a Focus Sash preventing the Pokémon from being knocked out with one hit.
"You don't think you're the first to try that strategy, do you?" Joe smirked.
"You can't blame me for trying," she shrugged and laughed.
The ghostly energy dissipated like ash in the wind. But it had left its mark. Hitmonchan swayed slightly, its breathing shallow.
Fantina raised her next ball. "Next one. Let's go, Gourgeist."
Jake's eyes widened. "WOW!"
A towering, supersized Gourgeist emerged, its massive pumpkin body glowing with eerie fire, its voice a deep, echoing hum.
"Curse."
Gourgeist sacrificed half of its health to create a red circle beneath Hitmonchan's feet. It slowly began shrinking.
"Double Team."
Several flickering illusions of Gourgeist fanned out.
"Destroy those copies. Ice Punch!"
Hitmonchan moved like a flash of lightning between the various Gourgeist clones until...
"Confuse Ray."
Hitmonchan stumbled as glowing orbs danced before its eyes.
"Hex."
The move struck hard. And it was even more powerful due to the confusion. Hitmonchan groaned, dazed and blinking.
"We need to wait for the Curse to work... Sunny Day!" Fantina commanded. "Then Synthesis!"
The sun broke through the clouds of fumes as Gourgeist glowed green, recovering.
Joe's eyes remained calm. "And we need to finish this, before the Curse is activated. Poison Jab."
Hitmonchan lunged.
"Phantom Force!" Fantina cried—but Gourgeist hadn't yet recovered from Synthesis.
Hitmonchan struck true—Poison Jab hit home just as the red circle beneath it shrank completely and touched the Pokémon's feet.
Gourgeist collapsed.
But so did Hitmonchan—falling to one knee, gasping as smoke started to rise from its body.
Everyone held their breath.
Then, slowly, Hitmonchan stood back up.
It turned to Joe—and nodded.
Fantina clapped. "Truly magnificent. Even though… it's not a ghost type," she smirked jokingly.
"Challenger, call out your next Pokémon!" Petr called, while Jake was giddy with excitement.
"I can't wait until you are strong like Hitmonchan and you can knock out several Pokémon in row!" he whispered to Charmander, who wiggled at that idea with glee.
Meanwhile, Chandelure appeared next in a swirl of black fire, its ghostly flames licking at the air.
"Look, that's a fire type, like you!" Jake leant towards Charmander and pointed towards the flowing lamp-like creature.
"Will-o-Wisp!"
Blue fire hit Hitmonchan's side, leaving a burn. It flinched.
"Hex!"
Fantine repeated the tested strategy. The spectral blast tore across the field, knocking Hitmonchan back.
"We need to get some energy back. Use Drain Punch," Joe ordered.
Hitmonchan struck with glowing fists—and to everyone's surprise, the fighting-type move landed. Chandelure shrieked, and energy flowed into Hitmonchan's body.
"Prepare Overheat!" Fantina shouted.
But Joe was quicker. "Drain Punch, again!"
Chandelure began to weaken rapidly.
"Change tactics!" Fantina shouted in panic. "Use Memento!"
"Come on, we wanted to see the Overheat!" Jake frowned and Charmander mimicked his expression.
But meanwhile, Chandelure's body exploded into shadow. Its energy dropped Hitmonchan's attack and speed sharply and the defending champion stumbled. Meanwhile Chandelure fell onto the ground, totally knocked out.
Joe exhaled. "That was well used."
Fantina gave a deep sigh. "Let's hope it's enough."
"Gallade, it's your time!"
The Psychic/Fighting Pokémon appeared, blades gleaming, stance poised.
"Begin!" Petr called.
Gallade and Hitmonchan exchanged rapid blows—Psycho Cut versus Bullet Punch. Sparks flew. Neither gave ground.
"Let's power up. Swords Dance!" Fantina called.
Gallade spun with dazzling grace, blades aglow.
"Gotcha! Encore," Joe snapped.
Fantina gasped. "Stop! Use—!"
But too late. Gallade was locked.
Hitmonchan pounded Gallade repeatedly with Bullet Punch. And Gallade couldn't do anything but use Swords Dance. But both Pokémon were visibly weakening—their arms shaky, speed dulled.
"Encore, again."
As Hitmonchan began to channel the move, the previous Encore wore off.
And Gallade—empowered by three boosts—acted instantly, not waiting for command.
"What's going on?" Fantina cried in surprise. But Gallade has already charged at Hitmonchan with overpowered and super-effective Psycho Cut.
The strike hit Hitmonchan square in the chest, launching it backward.
The swamp was silent.
Then—
"Hitmonchan is unable to battle!" Petr called, chuckling. "Gallade is the winner."
Joe looked down at his fallen partner—then recalled the Pokémon and smiled, clapping slowly.
"And that makes you the winner."
"Oh no, granpa lost!" Jake called with hands covering his eyes. But Charmander was jumping up and cheering as the Pokémon enjoyed the battle very much.