Misty sprinted onto the field.
She snatched the heavy Poké Ball from Ash's hand, feeling the faint tremors coming from within.
Even a battle-hungry Pokémon felt pain.
"Leave it to me!" Her voice was tight. She spun on her heel and bolted, shoes slapping on the wet stone as she headed straight for the emergency access tunnel.
As a professional Water-type trainer, seeing a Water Pokémon injured hit her hard.
Even if that Pokémon was a Gyarados.
The thick soundproof door slid open behind her, then shut again, sealing off the crushing pressure of the battlefield.
Outside, the corridor was brighter.
She hadn't gone far when two silhouettes appeared ahead of her.
"Misty?" Flint's voice rumbled, broad shoulders practically filling the passage.
Beside him stood Lola, gentle as ever. Her eyes, though, were all on the Poké Ball in Misty's hand.
"Uncle Flint? Aunt Lola?" Misty skidded a little, surprised—but more anxious than anything. "Gyarados is badly hurt. It needs immediate treatment!"
"Come. The emergency room's this way." Lola turned at once, pace brisk, voice calm as always. "Don't worry, Misty. Pewter Gym's emergency facilities are top-grade."
Flint followed in silence. His gaze flicked over the ball, then Misty's face.
"How was that kid's commanding?" he asked.
The emergency ward door slid open without a sound.
Cold metal equipment glinted under soft healing lights.
Chansey was already waiting by a rolling cart of instruments.
A Joy might not live full-time in the Gym, but with Pewter's status, having a few Chanseys on staff was no problem.
Lola took the Poké Ball with practiced ease. Red light flashed, and the massive golden Gyarados appeared on a reinforced alloy platform.
Its jaw was twisted, mouth and nose running with blood. Golden blood trickled across the metal surface in branching streams—hard to look at directly.
"Lucky!"
Chansey waddled up, stubby arms glowing with soft healing waves that washed over Gyarados's brutal wounds.
Lola worked the instruments with deft hands, connecting power lines and energy drains. Her voice slipped between the humming machines, clear and calm:
"Misty, tell us about this Ash."
"Professor Oak handed him over to Brock, but didn't say much else. What kind of person is he?"
"Is he worth the effort?"
She glanced up at the readouts.
This Gyarados was impressive. The injuries looked awful, but under the numbers it was mostly trauma.
With a Gyarados's vitality, it could've recovered on its own given time.
Misty stared at the massive, shuddering golden body on the platform, then at Lola's composed profile and Flint's furrowed brow.
Her chest knotted with a mess of feelings.
She leaned back against the cold wall, letting out a long breath, trying to untangle her thoughts.
"Him?" she said at last, voice tinged with exasperation and something stranger. "He's a full-on monster-in-training, that's what he is."
"Monster?" Flint's thick brows rose.
"Yeah, a monster." Misty nodded hard, orange ponytail bouncing. "Have you seen any other rookie who can catch an out-of-control golden Gyarados, then use his Pikachu to beat it like a punching bag every day?"
"And the worst part? That Gyarados is beaten half to death and still acts all obedient and pitiful—like some giant, abused dog!"
She couldn't help remembering all those "suppression sessions" in the forest, and the way Gyarados had rubbed its whiskers on Ash's pants leg, eyes full of wronged-puppy energy.
Her mouth twitched.
"And tactically?" Lola asked, adjusting a dial, eyes on the monitors. The bleeding was slowly easing under the healing glow.
"For a newbie? He's really promising!" Misty said, talking faster now. "You saw it too—he tried to soak the entire Core at the start just to set the stage for Pikachu! Even if Brock read it and pinned him down…"
She trailed off, eyes flickering with something complicated.
"He has this weird kind of 'understanding' of Pokémon. Not just emotional stuff like we water trainers focus on, but… something else."
"He keeps talking about 'perfect IVs' and 'extreme individuals'… and he knows all about Champions like Leon and Cynthia, and explains their strength like some obsessed analyst."
"His goal's crystal clear—he wants to be a Champion trainer."
"And… I think he can do it."
Her voice dropped. Her face warmed a little.
Being called a "frog in a well" by a rookie and having no comeback was not a glorious memory.
"Hmph. Big words are easy. In the end it was still decided with one tail swing," Flint snorted, folding his arms as he watched Gyarados's breathing steady. "Maybe this time the Professor's judgment is…"
He left the rest unsaid.
He'd once dreamed of being Champion too.
Then the Elite Four had beaten that dream out of him so thoroughly he'd practically bounced off the wall.
"No, dear," Lola cut him off gently.
She straightened, wiping a sheen of sweat from her brow. Her eyes met Gyarados's.
In that bestial, bloodshot gaze—beneath the pain and confusion—there was still a sliver of clarity.
Gyarados was naturally violent.
Growing as a Gyarados meant learning to fight that nature.
On that point, as a seasoned Water-type trainer, Lola was sure.
And this golden Gyarados was trying.
Trying very hard to stay in control.
Its trainer, Ash, hadn't abandoned it despite all the danger and difficulty.
"He may be reckless. Aggressive. But he's clearly grasped this Gyarados's core: power and obedience," Lola said.
"He uses greater strength to suppress, and 'rewards' to guide."
"Simple. Crude. But… effective. Especially on a naturally feral beast like this."
"That's the mark of a qualified trainer."
Her gaze slid to Misty, gentle but sharp. "Misty, are you afraid of him?"
Misty blinked, then snorted, folding her arms.
"Afraid? You kidding?"
"I'm just exhausted traveling with him, that's all!"
"Every day I'm on edge—either his Gyarados is going berserk, or his Pikachu's about to set half a forest on fire!"
Classic tsundere Misty.
Mouth saying one thing, heart doing another.
She paused, voice dropping a notch, something awkward and quiet slipping in:
"But… for the partners he recognizes?"
"He's really… got nothing to be ashamed of."
Outside, the heavy door to the emergency corridor hissed open. The roar of the battle and the loudspeakers filtered in.
Brock's steady voice rang out from the arena, amplified:
"Challenger Ash Ketchum, please send out your second Pokémon!"
Lola patted Misty's shoulder lightly, gaze turning toward the sealed stone door, as if she could see the boy beyond it.
"Rock's grinding has just begun," she murmured. "Whether his edge shines—or snaps…"
"Brock will give us that answer. Go watch, Misty. As for this big one—"
She nodded toward the golden Gyarados, whose breathing was now even, eyes closed in exhausted sleep.
"Leave him to us."
Misty drew a deep breath, took one last look at the sleeping golden giant, then turned.
Her orange ponytail traced a clean arc behind her as she jogged back toward the door that led to the battlefield—
And to the answer.
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