Chapter 663: Musical Play (1)
~Third POV~
[Unova Region, Meanwhile, Route 16 – Hidden Grotto (Outskirts)]
A quarter-mile away, high in the dense branches of an ancient honey locust tree overlooking the hidden grotto's northern exit, three pairs of eyes tracked the scene below with varying degrees of stoicism.
Cobalion stood at the forefront, his blue-plated body utterly still, catching the filtered shafts of afternoon sunlight on his iron horns. To his right, Terrakion leaned heavily against a thick bough, his massive, boulder-like shoulders twitching with an irritation he didn't bother to mask. Beside him, Virizion flicked her slender green tail, her hooves clicking softly against the bark.
And tucked slightly behind them, peering through a gap in the dense ivy, was Keldeo. The young colt's blue mane was slightly matted with burrs from the morning's frantic tracking, but his large, intelligent eyes were wide, reflecting every detail of Azure's training session below.
He hadn't missed a single beat—not the way the human kept his voice level while standing inches from a Mythical beast; not the way the team didn't scatter in terror when they were beaten, but immediately analyzed their footing and went back for another round.
His voice was high, still carrying the lingering timbre of youth. Keldeo murmured, half to himself, 'He... he didn't even yell at them when they fell. Master Virizion said humans only care about power. She said they treat Pokémon like tools to be broken and discarded once the battle is over.'
Virizion didn't turn her head, but her ears pinned back sharply. She said firmly, 'And what you are seeing, little one, is a performance. A carefully constructed illusion designed to win the loyalty of creatures too naive to see the leash.'
Keldeo shot back, a flash of defensive stubbornness crossing his young features, 'It's not an illusion.'
He stepped closer to the edge of the branch, leaning out so far that Terrakion let out a low, warning rumble from deep within his chest. Keldeo chimed, 'I watched them. That big fire-pig... his muscles were torn from that crash, but he was smiling when the pink one healed him. You don't look at a master like that if you're chained.'
Cobalion commanded, 'Silence, Keldeo.'
His voice was like grinding glaciers—cold, deep, and brooking no argument. The leader of the Swords of Justice finally turned his head, his red eyes fixing on his apprentice with an inscrutable weight as he said firmly, 'Surface actions too easily sway you. You forget why we walk these lands. You forget the Moor of Icirrus.'
Keldeo flinched. The memory—even though he had been too young then to remember the flames clearly, having only known the suffocating heat and the ash that tasted of charcoal—was burned into the collective legends the trio had drilled into him since the day they pulled him from the smoking ruins.
Humans made fires they couldn't control.
Humans built empires over the bones of forests.
The war between the two dragon-backed factions centuries ago had scorched half of Unova's heartland, leaving thousands of wild Pokémon trapped in a cage of their own burning home until the three of them had stepped out of the mist to carve a path to survival.
The old code ran in Keldeo's mind: 'Terrakion shaped the earth and created a passage by which to escape; Virizion used its speed to shield the Pokémon from sparks and embers, while their leader, Cobalion, ushered the Pokémon to safety.'
They were protectors. They were the shield between the wild world and the encroaching tide of human ambition.
And yet...
Keldeo said quietly, his hoof scraping the moss, 'I want to learn Sacred Sword…'
He looked up at Cobalion, his expression earnest, torn between the teachings of his mentors and the undeniable pull of what he had witnessed over the last few days. Keldeo continued in a curious tone, 'You said a true warrior must understand his opponent before he strikes. If I am to face this human—if I am to prove that we do not need their paths—then why shouldn't I see why his team is so strong?'
Terrakion let out a heavy sigh that smelled of crushed gravel. Terrakion explained, 'Because curiosity is the first step toward a collar, kid. I told you—Virizion and I tested him. We didn't use our full strength, true, but we used enough to break any ordinary trainer's spirit. And what did he do? He didn't even look at us. He let that Dragon monster of ice—that abomination—do the talking for him.'
Keldeo whispered in a childish tone, 'Because he didn't need to fight you himself…'
The clearing below was beginning to empty.
Azure was recalling his team into their respective Poké Balls, his Arc Phone chiming with a final reminder about the Nimbasa Musical schedule.
White's voice, faint and carrying all the sharp, organizational urgency of a theater director running late for dress rehearsal, echoed up from the southern path as she called out for Black to stop inspecting rocks and start walking.
Cobalion watched Azure lift a small, sleeping Eevee onto his head and adjust his collar. The leader of the trio had originally planned a different strategy: shadow the boy, let Keldeo witness the harsh, grinding reality of human training methods, and when the young colt inevitably realized that the human path was far too heavy for a little colt to bear—when the cracks in Azure's leadership began to show—they would step in, offer refuge, and pull him back into the safety of the wild.
But the plan had backfired. Instead of seeing hesitation, Keldeo had seen discipline. Instead of cruelty, he had seen trust. And worst of all, the boy was beginning to ask questions the legends couldn't answer.
Cobalion's voice broke the silence, deep and resonant: 'Do you wish to understand him, young apprentice?'
Keldeo snapped his head up, his blue eyes wide, and replied, 'Master?'
Cobalion stepped to the very edge of the branch, his iron horn catching the last glint of the afternoon sun before it dipped behind the Nimbasa skyline. Cobalion said, his gaze fixed on the retreating form as the human vanished down the trail, 'There is only one way a true warrior resolves questions of strength. Not by watching from the shadows like a timid Fletchling. Not by wondering what lies beyond the treeline.'
Terrakion and Virizion both stiffened, their expressions darkening simultaneously. Virizion warned, her voice dropping an octave, 'Cobalion… You cannot be serious. He carries the weight of dragons. He broke our stance with a glance.'
Cobalion replied, his tone absolute, 'I am entirely serious.'
He looked down at Keldeo, whose breath had hitched in his throat. Cobalion continued, 'When the time is right—when the human finishes his trivial games in the city of lights—I will test him myself. A one-on-one battle. No assistance from his beasts of legend. Just him, his intent, and my blade.'
Keldeo's eyes widened like saucers. He asked in a surprised tone with a shocked expression, 'You... you will fight him?'
Cobalion continued, his eyes hard as flint, 'And when the battle ends with one victor, we will know the truth of his path. If his strength is built on tyranny, we will take you far from here and never look back. But if he is what he claims to be...'
Cobalion paused, letting the wind rustle through the autumn leaves before finishing in a dramatic tone: '...then you must be prepared to face the consequences of what you choose to see.'
With a single, fluid bound, Cobalion leaped from the branch, disappearing into the dense foliage below with the silent grace of a ghost. Terrakion grunted, casting one last scowling look toward the Nimbasa road before following his leader. Virizion lingered for a fraction of a second, her green eyes meeting Keldeo's with a mixture of warning and sorrow, before she, too, vanished into the green.
Keldeo stood alone on the thick bough.
Below him, the grotto was empty now. Only a few scattered footprints in the gray dust remained to prove that anyone had ever been there at all. The young colt looked down at his own front hooves, then out toward the distant, neon-lit skyline of Nimbasa City, where music was playing, and a human boy was preparing his team for a stage they had built together.
With a soft, resolute snort, Keldeo turned and leaped after his mentors, his heart beating a rhythm that none of the ancient legends had ever anticipated…
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[Unova Region, Next Day, Nimbasa City – Musical Dome]
The morning air in Nimbasa City tasted of roasted Oran berries, and the faint, sweet perfume of popcorn drifting from the nearby amusement park. Sunlight spilled over the towering Ferris wheel, casting long, metallic ribbons across the plaza outside the Musical Dome.
Inside the Musical Dome, however, the atmosphere was a breathless, humming void of anticipation...
*Thrum-thrum-thrum*
The heavy bass of the house speakers vibrated through the floorboards, matching the frantic, irregular rhythm of White's heartbeat. She stood in the wings of the main stage, her fingers tightly interlaced, her eyes wide as saucers behind her neat spectacles.
She thought with mixed emotion, a mixture of sheer terror and intoxicating euphoria bubbling in her chest, 'It's happening. Months of scouting, the endless rewrites, the budget meetings with the mayor where I thought I'd lose my hair, the late nights staring at spreadsheets—it's happening.'
The announcer's voice boomed through the dome, bouncing off the vaulted acoustic ceiling: "Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Pokémon of all shapes and sizes! Welcome to the grand opening of the Nimbasa City Pokémon Musical!"
*Roar*
The crowd's eruption was a physical wave that hit the stage curtains. Thousands of spectators filled the amphitheater seats, their glowing penlights turning the dark arena into a shifting galaxy of pinks, yellows, and blues.
On stage, the curtain swept upward with a dramatic swoosh.
*SWOOOOSH*
Under the dazzling amber glow of the spotlights, a dozen Pokémon stood posed in elaborate, custom-tailored costumes. There were Zebstrika wearing silk opera capes, Minccino adorned in top hats and monocles, and Audino styled like vintage Parisian baristas. Leading them, stepping forward with the effortless grace of a runway icon, was Elesa.
The Gym Leader of Nimbasa City wore a lightning-bolt patterned coat that shimmered under the stage lights, her blonde hair catching the strobe effect. With a sharp snap of her fingers, her partner Emolga launched into the air, trailing golden sparks that dissolved into harmless, glittering motes.
Elesa's voice rang clear and confident through her headset mic, cutting cleanly through the instrumental crescendo of the first number, Stardom, with a pleased smile: "Welcome, everyone! What you're seeing right now is just a glimpse into the heart of what the Pokémon Musical represents. It's about expression. It's about letting your partner shine in ways a battlefield can never quite capture."
From the backstage shadows, Black watched with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in concentration. Next to him, Azure stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, a relaxed, knowing smirk playing on his lips.
*Clink*
A tiny, spectral sound came from inside Azure's jacket. A sleek paw poked out from the collar. Mew's telepathic voice buzzed inside Azure's mind, 'She's loud. And very bright. My eyes hurt, Azure. Can we eat a poffin now?'
Azure replied mentally, 'Be patient, Mew.'
Then his gaze drifted from Elesa to White, who was biting her lower lip so hard it was turning white. He added casually, 'We've got a show to watch first. Besides, White's masterpiece is about to hit its stride.'
On stage, Elesa was explaining the mechanics of the performance: "There are four distinct numbers in today's program. Each Pokémon has been dressed using our catalog of one hundred exclusive props—from tiaras to leather jackets. And the best part?"
She winked at the front row, where a gaggle of young trainers was clutching their notebooks, adding, "These prop cases won't just stay here on stage. Very soon, they'll be available for you to take home, so you can style your own partners."
The applause that followed was deafening—a rolling thunder of clapping hands, cheering voices, and the happy cries of wild and domestic Pokémon alike.
As the music transitioned smoothly into the second number, Forest Stroll, the stage transformed. Artificial ivy unfurled from the fly loft, and the floor emitters misted the air with the crisp, earthy scent of pine and damp moss. A family of Deerling pranced across the boards, their floral garlands bobbing with every step.
*Clack-clack-clack*
Elesa slipped off the stage and walked briskly into the wings, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor before coming to a halt right in front of White.
Elesa asked smugly, wiping a bead of sweat from her temple, though her smile was radiant, "How was I?"
White blinked, snapping out of her daze, and grabbed both of Elesa's hands.
She said in an excited tone, "How were you?! Elesa, you were an absolute goddess out there! The way the lighting hit the Emolga's spark—it was pure magic! You made my script look like... like poetry!"
Elesa laughed, leaning down slightly to meet White's ecstatic gaze as she replied in a pleased tone, "Credit where credit's due, Madame Producer. The script you created was airtight. Every cue hit like clockwork."
Before White could reply, a portly figure hurried over, wheezing slightly. It was the Mayor of Nimbasa, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief.
*Fwip-fwip*
The Mayor beamed, his mustache twitching with excitement. He exclaimed excitedly, "Magnificent! Simply magnificent! The ticket sales for the rest of the week are already sold out! But tell me, White... we are giving away those starter prop cases at the exits today, correct? Will that bring them back tomorrow?"
White's expression shifted instantly from fan-girl awe to shrewd business mode. Her posture straightened, and her eyes narrowed with sharp determination. She stated, "Of course it will, Mr. Mayor. The prop cases we're handing out today are deliberately stocked with just a few foundational props—a bowtie, a ribbon, a basic hat. It's enough to spark their creativity, but not enough to satisfy it. When they realize they need more pieces to complete their dream outfits, where are they going to come?"
She pointed a finger triumphantly toward the ceiling. Then she declared, "Right back here, to the Musical Dome!"
Black let out a low whistle of genuine admiration.
He couldn't help but comment in a praising tone, "Man. When you get into business mode, White, you're scarier than a wild Krokorok."
White snapped playfully, though a proud flush dusted her cheeks, "It's called having a vision, Black!"
Azure chuckled, stepping forward. He commented, praising her, "She's a natural producer, Black. You'd better take notes if you ever want to manage your gym challenge budget without going broke on healing items."
Elesa said calmly, checking a sleek pink Xtransceiver strapped to her wrist, "Speaking of which, my break is over in five minutes. And you two..."
She shot a pointed look at Black and Azure, adding, "...have a Gym Battle to prepare for. My gym isn't going to clear itself, boys."
Black's eyes widened. He exclaimed, "Right! The electric stage!"
He turned toward the exit, his hyper-focused mind already calculating type advantages and Volt Switch counters. Black said happily, "White, you did it! Your dream is real! Now I'm gonna go make mine come true!"
He took two steps before a sudden, frantic commotion near the stage entrance stopped him cold…
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A/n: Hope you like the chapter!