As for Miraidon, it never got involved in the chaos from the start.
It had zero interest in posing. It found a sun-drenched corner, lazily flopped down, and before long its breathing evened out—it was asleep.
Seeing this quirky tableau, Brassius felt another burst of inspiration. He didn't ask Miraidon to get up; he simply took the scene before him as the final composition.
The painting began.
Brassius slipped into a state of total absorption. Sometimes his brush moved wild and free, laying down backgrounds and blocks of color with broad strokes; sometimes it turned meticulous, carefully tracing details and spirit.
The studio became a strange, cozy picture in itself.
At the center stood Iron Valiant like a statue, radiating a cold, reliable presence—the bedrock of the whole canvas.
Beside it, Miraidon slept soundly, sunlight pooling on its armor in a soft sheen.
Jason lounged on Miraidon's back, body spread like jelly, Rotom Phone in hand, completely absorbed in whatever he was playing.
On the other side of the painting, Gast struggled to hold her pose—hands on hips, cheeks puffed in a "so fierce!" expression. But her eyes kept sneaking to the box of Energy Cubes by Jason's hand. A glinting thread of drool was perilously close to escaping her lip. Whatever "majestic dignity" she'd tried to muster had long since vanished—leaving only a comical kind of cuteness.
Sunlight poured through the big glass windows, scattering mottled shadows across the room. The only sounds were the smell of paint (if a smell could make a sound) and the soft rasp of brush on canvas.
More than once, Gast couldn't help herself and tried to drift over for a quick taste of an Energy Cube. Each time she so much as twitched, Jason shot her a look, and she shrank back, resuming her fierce-yet-peckish pose.
Time slipped by.
Hours later, as the last rays of sunset slanted into the studio, Brassius finally put down his brush.
"Done!"
He let out a long breath. He looked like he'd just been hauled out of water, forehead beaded with sweat, but his eyes shone. He stepped back to admire the work, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. Then he turned the big easel toward the group to present the result.
On the canvas, bold yet delicate strokes had perfectly captured the spirit of all four of them.
"Amazing—absolutely the best piece of my career!" Brassius said, elated. "But what to call it? 'The Challenger'? Too plain."
He slipped into the artist's eternal struggle: titling.
Just then, Jason tucked away his phone and slid off Miraidon's back. He walked up, studied the painting for a moment, and suggested, "Call it 'The Strongest Pokémon Trainer.'"
He said it matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Brassius blinked, then chuckled. "'The Strongest Pokémon Trainer'… Heh. You are confident. But as you wish—so be it." He looked at Jason with a mix of expectation and advice. "You'll become a Champion. Take your partners with you."
Brassius gifted the still-wet canvas to Jason. "It belongs to you—because you are the painting."
Jason didn't refuse; he accepted the unique gift solemnly.
They said their goodbyes to Brassius and left the gym.
As they walked out of Artazon, the setting sun stretched their shadows long. Gast was still sulking about how un-regal she looked in the painting—drool and all—and kept grumbling beside Jason. He ignored her muttering. Looking at the painting in his hands, he smiled, snapped a photo with his Rotom Phone, and posted it to his socials.
Within five seconds, the screen lit up—a new chat popped to the top.
It was Iono.
[Iono: Jason, did you go do a gym challenge? How'd it go?]
Jason, slumped in his seat, typed back at a leisurely pace.
[Jason: Easy. Didn't even need me. Gast solo'd Brassius's whole team.]
A typing bubble flickered for a moment.
[Iono: Nice, nice.]
[Iono: So when's Jason coming to challenge my Levincia Gym?]
[Iono: I'm already waiting in black stockings just for you~]
At the last message, Jason, who'd been limp a second ago, sat bolt upright. He stared at the words to make sure he hadn't misread them.
Black-stockings Iono.
The phrase spun around his head. Iron Valiant shot him a questioning look, picking up on the sudden spike in his mood. Gast floated over, curious to peek at his chat.
Jason quickly locked the screen and cleared his throat.
Levincia.
A clear destination crystallized in his mind. He lit the screen again; his fingers flew.
[Jason: On my way!]
Message sent. He pocketed the phone, spirit renewed. He vaulted onto Miraidon's back and gave its smooth neck a firm slap.
"Let's go—move out!"
Miraidon seemed puzzled. A moment ago Jason looked exhausted; now he was raring to go.
"Faster—Levincia, full speed!" Jason urged.
Miraidon didn't know why, but it obeyed. Engines along its sides flared, electricity crackled, and it streaked out of Artazon like a violet bolt. Wind blasted Jason's hair into a tangle. Gast and Iron Valiant tucked in alongside. Gast barely managed to keep pace, wobbling as she shouted, "Jason, why are we in such a hurry to get to Levincia?"
"Urgent business," Jason said tersely.
"What business?" she pressed.
"Very important business," he said, face deadly serious.
The look spooked Gast into thinking something truly major had happened; she stopped asking and focused on keeping up. Iron Valiant looked far more relaxed.
It was a long way from Artazon to Levincia, but with Miraidon at full tilt the scenery blurred into streaks. Hills and rivers raced by beneath them.
After a little more than an hour, the smell of grass faded, replaced by the tang of modern city air. On the horizon, the outline of a massive metropolis of steel and glass came into focus. Skyscrapers stabbed the sky, giant LED billboards blazed across façades. Even by day, the city glowed like one that never sleeps.
"So this is Levincia…" Gast murmured, transfixed.
At the city's edge, Miraidon bled off speed and set down smoothly. Jason hopped off, stretched, and rolled out the stiffness. Gast floated to his side—winded from the sprint but buzzing with energy. She pumped tiny fists, eyes glittering with fighting spirit.
"Jason, am I taking the gym again?" she said, itching for action. After her 1vMany in Artazon, her confidence had soared—she felt in perfect shape to do it again.
Jason shook his head. "Not necessarily. We'll see."
"Huh?" Gast sagged. "Why? Did I mess up last time?"
"No, you were great," he soothed. "It's just—this gym leader is an old friend."
"An old friend? Who?" She tilted her head, searching her short list of acquaintances.
Jason didn't answer directly; he just smiled mysteriously. "Come with me and you'll see."
He headed toward the city center. Gast, full of questions, followed. Iron Valiant and Miraidon trailed in silence.
Levincia's streets bustled. Cars of every kind flowed by; sidewalks teemed with tourists and locals. Their odd squad drew plenty of looks: a Ditto leading a Gengar, an Iron Valiant, and a literal legend. Eye-catching, to say the least. But the city's residents seemed used to the unusual; beyond a few curious glances, no one stopped them.
Jason glanced up at the towers. A giant screen looped a replay of a peppy idol's stream—a girl with pink-and-blue hair and oversized screw-shaped hair clips, her smile infectious.
"E-e-e-e-electric! Your eyes have been captured by your Electro Idol, Iono!" the girl chirped.
Gast pointed up, surprised. "Isn't that Sister Iono?"
"That's right," Jason nodded.
"So she's really famous here," Gast said, impressed.
They walked on, and soon a uniquely shaped building came into view—designed like a giant streaming camera, neon tubes decorating its façade. Above the entrance, a big sign read "Levincia Gym."
This was their destination.
Jason stopped to take it in. Just then he noticed a familiar figure at the door—oversized coat, that pink-and-blue hair vivid in the sunlight. She stood on the steps, glancing down at her phone, then back toward the street, obviously waiting for someone. Her stance was casual, shifting her weight from leg to leg. Black thigh-highs hugged her long legs, clean lines catching the light.
"Hey, that's Sister Iono!" Gast cried, instantly realizing who the "old friend" was.
Almost as they spotted her, she spotted them. Her eyes lit up; a huge smile bloomed. She put her phone away and waved big—big enough for the whole world to see. Her bright voice cut clean through the city noise to Jason's ears.
"Jason, I missed you!"
No hint of restraint—just pure warmth. Some passersby turned, curious, to look at Jason.
His expression didn't change; he simply lifted a hand and waved back. Gast, on the other hand, shot up and floated over the crowd toward Iono.
"Heh-heh-heh!"
Iono threw her arms wide, delighted. "Gast! You came too!"
Girl and ghost met at the gym door, greeting each other with cheerful affection. Jason crossed the street with Iron Valiant and Miraidon at an unhurried pace.
"Why the big scene," he sighed at Iono, a little helpless.
"Because I'm happy to see you," she beamed. Her gaze swept him, then landed on Miraidon. "Looks like your team's grown."
"He's a partner I met recently," Jason said simply.
Iono nodded to Miraidon. "Welcome to Levincia—my gym." Her eyes slid back to Jason, a playful glint there. "Got my message and rushed right over? In such a hurry?"
"Just happened to be on the way," he replied poker-faced.
"Mm?" she drew out the sound, clearly unconvinced. Leaning closer, she dropped her voice. "I thought you might be here for… something else."
As she spoke, her eyes flicked, just barely, downward.
Jason's throat bobbed. He knew exactly what she meant.
"Enough chatter. Can we start the gym challenge now?" he said, smoothly changing the subject.
"Of course," Iono straightened, slipping into gym-leader mode. "But I know how strong you are, Jason—so this won't be a standard challenge."
"Oh? Do tell," Jason said.
Iono glanced at Gast and the others and lowered her voice. "Not the best place to talk."
Jason gave her a look. "Then where is?"
"Excellent!" Iono clapped. "Challenger Jason, please follow me."
She turned and pushed open the gym's heavy doors.
~~~
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