Ariados rose again, but the recovery had visibly cost something this time. The dense black energy under its shell had thinned.
Just as I thought, Ash noted. Whatever's keeping it standing isn't free. Every use is drawing down a finite reserve, and that reserve doesn't replenish mid-battle.
Without waiting for Lenny's order, Ariados surged forward on its own, legs blurring with high-speed movement, a faint purple sheen building around its bladed limbs.
"Ariados is acting independently! Has the trainer lost control?" the commentator called out.
"Damn it," Lenny muttered, sweat beading on his forehead. He'd known the side effects were a possibility. Knowing and watching it happen in real time in front of a packed stadium were very different experiences. "Some of its instincts are getting scrambled. Doesn't matter, that thing still listens to its own survival drive!"
Ash's Sharingan tracked the nerve pathways with quiet clarity. The black corruption had spread far enough to start interfering with command reception entirely. Whatever drug Team Rocket had administered, it wasn't a clean enhancement. It was rot wearing the shape of power.
"That actually makes this easier," Ash said. "Rock Blast."
Rhydon roared and launched a series of compressed boulders, each one slamming into the charging Ariados in rapid succession. The spider was thrown back ten meters, dragging a long scrape across the broken terrain before coming to a stop against a cracked outcrop.
"A direct hit landed cleanly that time! Ariados isn't moving!"
"Finish it. Stone Edge."
A ring of jagged stone spikes erupted around Rhydon and launched outward in a wide spread, more than a dozen converging on Ariados before its overdrawn regeneration could even attempt a third cycle.
The spikes found their mark. One drove clean through a foreleg.
"That's a serious hit. Ariados is struggling."
Lenny's voice came out tight, almost relieved beneath the panic. "Ariados, use Psychic!"
Ariados shuddered through the pain and unleashed a wash of shifting, multicolored light toward Rhydon, a crude approximation of true psychic energy, the kind only a non-Psychic-type forcing the ability through unnatural means could produce. It lacked the precision of real Psychic moves, scattering more like a flare than a focused beam.
Ash watched it with something close to pity.
"That's not Psychic," he said quietly. "That's whatever's left of its nervous system trying to misfire its way into something useful." He looked at Rhydon. "End it. Megahorn."
Rhydon's single horn glowed with concentrated force, and he closed the gap in two heavy strides before driving it forward in a single decisive thrust.
The impact was clean, full force, and final.
"Ariados is unable to battle!" the referee called, raising the flag. "Rhydon wins!"
The crowd's noise came in waves, equal parts awe and unease. Something about the match had felt wrong from the start, and most of the stadium had clocked it even without understanding the specifics.
Lenny recalled Ariados with a shaking hand, staring at the empty Poké Ball.
"That thing in your Pokémon," Ash said, loud enough to carry across the field, "wasn't a performance enhancer. It was forced regeneration burning through its actual lifespan every time it activated. Whoever sold you that didn't care whether Ariados survived the season."
Lenny's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.
"You should get it examined," Ash added, quieter now. "Before it's too late to undo."
In the stands, Nathan was already writing again. "Confirmed. That's grounds for immediate post-match investigation, not just screening."
"The Rockets again," Sam said grimly.
"The Rockets again," Nathan agreed.