Chapter 666: Rondez Ferris Wheel
~Third POV~
[Unova Region, Later, Nimbasa City – Gym]
*Blink-Blink-Whirr*
The glowing amber lights of the main diagnostic terminal pulsed rhythmically against the sleek chrome console of the Nimbasa City Gym control room. Elesa, the Electric-Type Gym Leader and Unova's reigning supermodel icon, crossed her arms clad in black and yellow, her sharp, golden gaze locked onto the rolling schematics of the massive indoor amusement park structure.
She murmured, her voice carrying a melodic yet troubled cadence in the humming silence of the room, "That doesn't make any sense."
Earlier that afternoon, she had faced a fierce, hyper-focused challenger named Black. The boy fought with a reckless, passionate fire—the kind that usually left the tracks and hydraulic lifts of her famous roller coasters rattling in his wake.
But the discrepancies she was looking at now had nothing to do with standard battle wear-and-tear. Someone had manually overridden the master circuit boards. The safety locks on Sector Four's loop-de-loop had been tinkered with post-battle, and not by any member of her authorized maintenance crew.
*Clack*
A soft, metallic scuff echoed from the dim maintenance corridor just behind the master console. Elesa's head whipped around, her reflexes sharp as a live wire.
She shouted, "Who's there?"
On top of her shoulders, her twin Emolga—puffy cheeks crackling with dormant static electricity—chirped in sharp alarm, their large, round eyes scanning the shadowed corners of the room. They bounded onto the edge of the desk, sniffing the air, their patagium membranes fluttering as they searched for the source of the disturbance.
They both cried out warily, "Pikkyu!"
Nothing.
The corridor was empty. The long, industrial shadows stretched silently across the polished floorboards, meeting only the glow of the emergency exit signs.
No footsteps.
No breathing.
Just the distant, faint hum of the city's electric grid filtering through the reinforced glass windows.
Elesa frowned, stepping away from the console and walking slowly toward the doorway. She poked her head out into the hallway, left and right.
Empty.
She muttered, running a gloved hand through her cascade of golden-blonde hair, "Must be playing tricks on me. Maybe I've been spending too much time reviewing choreography for the next fashion show."
Back inside the control room, nestled deep within the complex holographic folds of a discarded security blanket, a tiny patch of shadow rippled. The air shimmered, bending light and color with impossible fluidity.
*Poof*
In the blink of an eye, the illusion melted away. Zorua sat upon its haunches, grinning mischievously with its bright blue eyes flashing with amusement. It let out a tiny, soundless giggle, shaking its scruffy black-tipped mane before turning its gaze toward the massive, glass-paned window overlooking the glittering skyline of Nimbasa City...
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[Unova Region, Meanwhile, Nimbasa City – Rondez-View Ferris Wheel]
Outside, bathing the urban landscape in shades of bruised purple, amber, and burnt orange, the sun was beginning its slow descent. And there, dominating the horizon, the great Rondez-View Ferris Wheel slowly rotated against the evening sky like a turning clockwork crown.
Inside one of the private, wood-paneled cabins of the Rondez-View Ferris Wheel, the air was suspended in a delicate, fragile quiet.
The cabin rocked ever so slightly as it crossed the midpoint of its massive vertical loop. Outside, the sky was a canvas of brilliant, bleeding twilight. Only moments ago, a sudden, unnatural localized thunderstorm—a tempest of roaring, static-charged clouds—had swept across the city, leaving the ozone-heavy air shivering in its wake.
N, the self-proclaimed King of Team Plasma, stood by the glass window, his long, cream-colored coat brushing against the velvet-upholstered seat. His emerald-green eyes were distant, shadowed by the memory of what had passed.
N murmured, his voice soft, almost lyrical, "That thunderstorm earlier... It was caused by a one-horned being passing through. It was angry. Angry toward humans."
Across from him sat Azure Sky. He looked entirely at ease, leaning back against the bench with one ankle crossed over his knee. On his shoulder, a plump Pikachu lazily twitched its left ear, while a fluffy Eevee curled up like a drowsy cinnamon roll right atop Azure's dark hair. Inside the front pocket of Azure's jacket, a faint, sweet aroma of fresh berries signaled the presence of Mew, currently utilizing a subtle glamour to look like an ordinary, sleeping Pichu.
Azure offered a wry, knowing smile. He looked at the window of the cabin, stating calmly, "Thundurus, actually. Though you aren't entirely wrong about the angry part. That old thundercloud has a terrible temper."
N glanced back, momentarily surprised by the casual correction, before his gaze drifted back out the window. The cabin was climbing higher now, the ground below shrinking into a dizzying patchwork of streets and flashing neon lights.
N's eyes locked onto a specific figure moving near the base of the structure: Sage Ryuko, flanked by a cluster of Team Plasma Grunts, quietly reuniting with their colleagues after the Sages had been freed from their brief detainment.
*Bzzzt*
N's pocket hummed. He pulled out an Xtransceiver, answering a call from the grunts below. Their voices, frantic and strained, filtered through the small speaker, expressing deep concern for their King's well-being given the recent chaos in the city.
N's expression softened, a gentle, paternal warmth entering his eyes that contrasted sharply with his radical ideology. He said into the device, his tone calm and steady, "I am fine. Retreat with the Sage. Ensure the others are safe."
*Click*
He ended the call with a flick of his thumb and slipped the device back into his pocket. He turned to face Azure once more. N said simply, "They worry. They don't understand that I am their King. I was chosen to save Pokémon... and to save the people who carry that mission in their hearts. Ghetsis taught me that."
Azure didn't flinch. He didn't interrupt.
He simply met N's intense gaze with an unreadable, steady stare.
N seemed to notice.
N gave a small, perceptive smile, noting the lack of surprise on the Champion's face as he said calmly, "You aren't surprised. Your little Pikachu—or rather, the way you carry yourself—tells me you already knew. You guessed that the reason I suggested you come here with me was to ensure my people could retreat safely while I kept you occupied."
Azure chuckled, a rich, mellow sound. He replied casually, "Guessed? Let's call it an educated certainty. But I agreed to come anyway. Because you and I... we needed to talk, N. Ignore the politics for a second. Just you and me."
N blinked, taken aback by the sheer lack of hostility in the boy's voice. A faint sigh escaped the green-haired youth's lips as he turned back to look at the massive, geometric architecture of the Ferris wheel's spokes.
N murmured, his fingers tracing the edge of the window frame, "It's fascinating, isn't it? This wheel. It's perfect. It moves according to strict, unyielding mathematical formulas. No wasted motion. No cruelty. Just pure, clean design."
He turned his head back, his eyes narrowing slightly with a complex mix of curiosity and pain. N began, as he said firmly with a serious expression, "I called you here because I wanted to question your purpose. Especially after... after I saw you and Meloetta performing together in the Pokémon Musical."
Azure raised an eyebrow. He asked, "Oh? You were watching?"
N admitted, a shadow crossing his delicate features, "I was. I was surprised—no, unsettled—to see people treating Pokémon like performance props, forcing them to wear costumes, turning them into mere exhibits for human amusement. To solve this mystery, I had to ask: Why is someone as powerful as you—someone helping White in her showbiz agency—condoning that sort of culture?"
Azure offered a nonchalant shrug, resting his chin on his knuckles. He replied honestly, "I asked my team if they were interested. They said yes. Nothing too deep to search for, N. At the end of the day, everyone has a hobby. You like Ferris wheels and ancient ruins; some Pokémon like dancing under bright lights."
N said sternly, shaking his head, stating, "You simplify it. You understand my point—that many Pokémon are forced into servitude for human entertainment. But you brush past the root of the sickness."
Azure countered, smoothly shaking his head at N's words, "Not at all. I agree with you that some humans treat Pokémon poorly. Just like humans, Pokémon possess a vast array of different talents. Some love to fight, some love to run, some love to dance, and some just want to sleep in the sun. The tragedy isn't that they perform; the tragedy is when they aren't given a choice."
N fell silent for a long moment. The cabin clicked as it rose steadily toward the apex of the wheel, the setting sun casting long, dramatic shadows across the small interior. Then, N leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. N finally asked calmly, "I want to ask you a few questions. I hope you don't mind taking a little more of your time."
Azure said calmly, his posture remaining relaxed, though his mental barriers sharpened, "Go ahead…"
N began, his voice dropping an octave, growing tense and probing, "It's about the Pokédex. And the act of capturing Pokémon in general. I wanted to ask you specifically, because you and your Pokémon have experienced more than almost any trainer alive. You've traveled across multiple regions. You've crossed paths with legendaries."
Azure let out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. He said jokingly, "Well, for the record, I rarely use a Pokédex myself. Professor Oak sends me angry letters about it every month because I refuse to be a Dex Holder on principle. The only way I'll accept is if he releases them to the masses instead of hoarding them for 'prodigies' only."
The lighthearted joke bounced off N entirely. The young king's face twisted into a heavy, sorrowful frown. The fake, courteous smile he had worn since entering the cabin vanished completely.
When N spoke again, his voice was laced with a quiet, devastating intensity. N whispered, his eyes boring straight into Azure's soul, "Considering everything you have been through with your Pokémon, getting all eight badges on your first try in multiple regions, making it to the peak of the League no matter how young you were... I'm sure that your bonds with your Pokémon are very strong, right?"
Azure didn't hesitate to answer in a blunt and honest tone, "Yes. I consider them to be all but unbreakable."
He tilted his head slightly, asking, "Why do you ask?"
N's voice trembled slightly with suppressed emotion. He finally asked, "So... If you treasure your bonds with your Pokémon so much, how could you condone or accept a society and a system that actively encourages Pokémon to be confined to their Pokéballs? To be shackled to a trainer—even one as loving as you might be?"
N stood up from his seat, stepping closer, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. N demanded, his voice rising, filled with a pure, agonizing idealism, "Do they not deserve better than this? Do they not deserve true, unshackled freedom? To be granted true, genuine happiness under the open sky, free from the prison hanging at your belt…?"
Even though Azure had anticipated this exact philosophical collision, the sheer emotional weight of N's words still managed to strike a raw nerve. He knew N's intentions were pure. He knew the tragic, sheltered upbringing that had forged the green-haired boy into a weapon of Ghetsis's design.
But hearing someone casually attack the foundational trust between him and his companions—implying that his family, his partners, were miserable prisoners pining for release—triggered a cold, defensive fire in Azure's chest.
He could not let that slide.
Keeping his voice meticulously level, devoid of anger but dripping with quiet conviction, Azure replied, "And what makes you say that, N? You're implying something rather heavy: that my Pokémon aren't truly happy to be with me. How can you assume a Pokémon is automatically sad just because they've been caught in a Pokéball?"
N shot back, shaking his head with a deep, aching melancholy, "Because they are. If you really were someone who sought true happiness for your Pokémon, you would never keep them confined. A Pokéball is nothing more than a cage. It's an artificial boundary placed between a living soul and the world they were born to inhabit. After all... if the bond between you and your Pokémon is as strong and unbreakable as you think it is, then it shouldn't matter either way, right? If you released them now, they would stay with you willingly if they truly loved you. So why trap them?"
Azure countered, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity, "Because doing that would be no different from rendering my Pokémon homeless."
N blinked, momentarily thrown off by the phrasing. N couldn't help but repeat the word in a confused tone, "Homeless?"
Azure explained, gesturing calmly toward his belt where a dozen polished spheres rested safely in their slots, "That's what a Pokéball is to them. It's not just a symbol of our bond. It's their sanctuary. It's their home."
Azure's thoughts drifted back, years ago, to the rolling green routes of Kanto. When he was still trying to find his footing as a fresh trainer, unsure of the heavy responsibilities resting on his shoulders, he had sat down with his very first team—Pikachu, Growlithe, and Dratini—and asked them that exact question.
He had asked if they preferred to roam free outside their capsules or if they liked the internal spaces. All three had looked at him as if he had asked a ridiculous question. They didn't mind remaining inside; in fact, they felt a profound sense of security, warmth, and pride in resting within the tailored energy spaces designed specifically for their biological comfort.
To them, the ball wasn't a prison. It was a bedroom, a haven of absolute peace away from the noisy, chaotic world. But his Pikachu would rather stay on his shoulder to help protect him when he needed it and be his personal mount. Azure couldn't help but chuckle, thinking that.
N shouted, stepping forward, his hands gripping the back of the opposing seat as his frustration boiled over, "No, that's—how can you say that?! How can you look at your Pokémon's cries for freedom and ignore them? Every time a Pokéball clicks shut, a voice is silenced!"
Azure let out a long, slow breath, leaning his head back against the wood paneling. He began to explain to N, "Look, N. I can tell your intentions are pure. I know you want the best for every living creature on this planet. And truthfully? I think you're asking some of the right questions."
N paused, his chest heaving slightly as he stared down at him.
Azure continued, his tone softening, though his eyes remained firm, "Sometimes I hear about cases of Pokémon abuse. Where malicious trainers mistreat their captured partners. Those cases always sadden and enrage me. Because I've always believed the bond between a trainer and their Pokémon is sacred. It's a partnership built on mutual respect."
Azure raised his chin, meeting N's emerald gaze directly. Then he added casually, "But at the same time, I know that my Pokémon want to stay by my side. They want me to be their trainer, just as much as I want them to be my family. Every single day, I am profoundly honored and grateful for the trust they've placed in me. So I reject the premise that my Pokémon are somehow incapable of achieving 'true happiness' just because they've spent time inside a Pokéball."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping into a quiet, persuasive rhythm. Then he said resolutely, "In fact, I'd argue the exact opposite. I am certain they are happy to be fighting alongside me, growing with me, facing the world by my side. If that wasn't the case... If they felt trapped or miserable... I sincerely doubt they would have ever had the strength, the willpower, or the heart to face off against legendary titans by my side."
Silence descended upon the cabin once more, save for the rhythmic creak of the Ferris wheel's massive metal arms turning against the evening wind. N stood frozen, the words hanging heavily in the pressurized air of the cabin.
His mind, conditioned to see black and white—freedom versus captivity—was suddenly crashing against a gray reality he hadn't fully accounted for. The sheer depth of conviction in Azure's voice was undeniable.
A faint, sly grin spread across Azure's face. He reached down to adjust the strap of his jacket, where his belt held his Poké Balls. Azure murmured, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light, "You know… I happen to carry my Champion-tier teams from Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh with me. And since you have that unique gift of yours—the ability to hear the true voices of Pokémon..."
Azure tilted his head toward the door as the cabin smoothly approached the upper-middle descent of the wheel's rotation. Then said firmly with a sly grin, "Would you be interested in listening to what they have to say about their homes?"
N's breath hitched. For a second, the young King of Team Plasma looked as though he had been struck. The chance to hear directly from the Pokémon of a multi-region Champion—without human interference or the filters of ideology—was an opportunity he couldn't refuse.
N swallowed hard, his jaw tightening slightly before he gave a slow, deliberate nod. N whispered, "Show me. Let me hear their truth."
Without another word, Azure stood, pushed open the cabin door as the wheel ground to a gentle halt at the disembarkation platform, and stepped out into the cooling twilight air, ready to let the Pokémon speak for themselves.
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A/n: Hope you like the chapter!