The roar hit Sasuke before he even entered the stadium, fifty thousand voices creating a sound like physical force. He stood in the challenger's tunnel, Victini on his shoulder, feeling the vibrations through stone walls. Beyond those walls waited the battlefield, the crowd, Gaara, and the test that would define his journey's beginning.
"You good?" Kankuro asked. The senior Gym trainer had been assigned as Sasuke's escort, guiding him through pre-battle protocols.
"Fine."
"You don't look nervous."
"I am. Just good at hiding it." Sasuke adjusted Tyranitar's Pokeball on his belt. Everything secure, ready, prepared.
"Good answer. Nerves keep you sharp." Kankuro consulted his tablet. "You're on in two minutes. Walk to the challenger's box when you hear your name. Don't rush, let the crowd see you. Gaara enters from the opposite side simultaneously. You'll face each other across the battlefield, referee will explain rules even though you already know them, then it begins."
"Media?"
"Twenty cameras minimum. Regional broadcast. Probably international pickup given your brother's status." Kankuro met his eyes. "This isn't just a gym battle. It's theater. Performance matters as much as victory."
Sasuke nodded. He'd understood that since registration, being Itachi's brother meant every battle carried extra weight. People wanted spectacle, wanted to see if the Uchiha family produced multiple prodigies or if Itachi was an anomaly.
Today he'd show them.
The tunnel's mouth opened ahead, harsh sunlight streaming through. Beyond it the battlefield, carved from mountain stone and designed for devastation. Boulders placed strategically across irregular terrain. Elevation changes creating tactical complexity. The entire space Dynamax-compatible, reinforced to handle kaiju-scale combat.
And surrounding it fifty thousand seats, every one filled. Pewter City's population had turned out, plus travelers who'd heard rumors. The crowd was a living entity, energy palpable even from the tunnel.
In the VIP section, reserved seating near the battlefield for challenger companions, Sasuke spotted three familiar faces. Miyuki sat composed, silver hair perfect despite obvious tension. Kasumi bounced in her seat, unable to contain nervous energy. Kiyomi watched with analytical calm, camera ready to document everything.
They'd gotten here two hours early to secure good seats. Now they waited with the rest of the stadium for the battle to begin.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" The announcer's voice boomed through speakers, amplified to reach every seat. "WELCOME TO PEWTER GYM! TODAY WE WITNESS A HISTORIC CHALLENGE!"
The crowd's roar intensified. Sasuke felt it in his bones, anticipation, excitement, bloodlust for competition. This was what gym battles meant to Pewter City. Validation of strength, proof of skill, entertainment that connected directly to their mining culture's respect for power.
"CHALLENGING TODAY: SASUKE UCHIHA, ROOKIE TRAINER FROM BLACKTHORN CITY!"
That was his cue. Sasuke stepped from the tunnel into sunlight, squinting against brightness. The crowd noise became deafening, half cheering, half curious murmuring. "Itachi's brother," he heard repeated from multiple directions.
He walked to the challenger's box with measured steps. Not hurrying, not showing uncertainty. Calm confidence despite his heart hammering against his ribs. Victini's flames flickered on his shoulder, the Fire-type sensing his tension, offering wordless support.
The battlefield stretched before him. Rocky terrain exactly as he'd practiced, but larger than any training field. Real stakes, real consequences. Winning meant the Boulder Badge, validation of his training. Losing meant proving critics right, that he was just Itachi's shadow, nothing special on his own.
"DEFENDING: GYM LEADER GAARA OF PEWTER CITY! CURRENT RECORD: FIFTY-TWO WINS, ZERO LOSSES!"
The opposite tunnel disgorged Gaara.
He walked like stone given human form, deliberate, unhurried, absolutely certain. Red hair caught sunlight, making him look crowned by fire. His eyes were cold, calculating, the eyes of someone who'd fought hundreds of battles and won through superior skill and preparation.
Gaara wore the Gym Leader uniform, gray with stone-pattern accents, the Boulder Badge symbol on his chest. No showmanship, no playing to the crowd. Pure professional focus.
He reached the Leader's box, stopped, and looked directly at Sasuke across fifty meters of battlefield. Some communication passed between them, not words, just acknowledgment. Two trainers about to test each other. Mutual respect for the combat ahead.
The referee appeared, middle-aged woman with League credentials displayed on her uniform. She took position at the battlefield's center, equidistant from both trainers.
"This is an official Gym Challenge sanctioned by the Pokémon League!" Her voice carried through speakers. "Standard format: Gym Leader uses one Pokémon, challenger may use up to six. Battle ends when the Leader's Pokémon is unable to continue or when all challenger's Pokémon faint. Mega Evolution, Primal Reversion, and Dynamax are permitted. Do both trainers understand and accept these terms?"
"Understood," Gaara said, voice gravelly.
"Understood," Sasuke confirmed.
"Then let the battle... BEGIN!"
The crowd exploded into noise. Sasuke barely heard it over his own heartbeat. This was it. Everything came down to the next few minutes.
Gaara spoke first, voice cutting through the chaos. "Your brother Itachi challenged me few years ago. Before he became Champion, when he was proving himself worthy." Gaara pulled a Pokeball from his belt. "He won. Barely. It was the closest match I'd had in five years. Show me if you inherited that strength, Sasuke Uchiha."
"I'll surpass him," Sasuke said. Not arrogance, simple truth. He wouldn't be satisfied matching Itachi. Had to exceed, prove his own worth beyond family legacy.
Gaara's expression shifted, might have been approval. "Good answer. Now prove it."
Both threw Pokeballs simultaneously. Two red beams launched toward the battlefield's center, energy coalescing into form.
Tyranitar versus Tyranitar.
Identical species, but completely different presences. Gaara's Tyranitar materialized with mountainous authority, ancient, weathered, bearing scars from countless battles. Its armor showed the thickness Takeshi had mentioned, reinforced through years of specialized diet. This was a Pokemon that had won fifty-two consecutive battles, each victory adding to its aura of invincibility.
Sasuke's Tyranitar appeared like controlled avalanche, younger, less scarred, but radiating power that came from Crown Tundra's brutal training. Three years of Fugaku's supervision had created a Pokemon that understood tactics, adaptation, partnership. Different from Gaara's veteran experience, but no less formidable.
The two Rock/Dark types faced each other across the battlefield. Gaara's Tyranitar stood at the base of a large boulder, using terrain for defensive positioning. Sasuke's Tyranitar took center field, no cover, pure aggressive stance.
Different philosophies made visible through Pokemon placement.
The crowd had gone from chaos to hushed anticipation. Everyone recognized the significance, mirror match, same species, victory dependent on pure skill and strategy. No type advantage, no gimmicks. Just two trainers and their Tyranitar testing who was better.
In the VIP section, Miyuki grabbed Kasumi's hand. The physical contact was instinctive, anxiety seeking outlet. Kasumi squeezed back without looking, her other hand finding Kiyomi's. The three of them formed a chain, drawing strength from each other.
"He's got this," Kasumi whispered.
"He trained for three days straight," Kiyomi said. "Perfect preparation."
"Gaara has fifteen years with his Tyranitar," Miyuki countered. "Experience matters."
"So does partnership." Kasumi's grip tightened. "Sasuke and his team, they're more than trainer and Pokemon. They're partners. That counts for something."