Cold, dark, and suffocating.
Even after Team Snagem had swept through, the environment of the abandoned mine remained abysmal. Above his head, the ceiling looked so fractured it seemed ready to cave in at any moment.
Fortunately, the interior was relatively spacious. To allow the ore carts to move efficiently back in the day, the tunnels had been carved out with a surprising amount of clearance.
Kashiwagi couldn't help but admire the irony—Orre was a desolate wasteland, yet its level of technology was remarkably high.
They had been underground for ten minutes.
As soon as they entered, someone decided to try their luck by prying a gemstone out of the perimeter wall. The clink-clank of the pickaxe hitting the rock sent a jolt of unease through Kashiwagi. He quickly led his group away, and before long, the sound of a terrifying collapse followed by blood-curdling screams echoed through the tunnels.
This "hero's" attempt to trigger a trap served as a grim deterrent, killing off any similar ideas in the minds of the others.
"Keep your eyes peeled. Don't get separated," a colleague in the lead whispered, his headlamp cutting through the gloom as he issued occasional reminders.
In the heavy silence, the sound of labored breathing through their masks was amplified. The claustrophobic environment was a psychological weight, slowly crushing their resolve.
Most kids in Pyrite Town had experience going down into the pits, but a functional mine and an abandoned one were two different beasts—especially with potential traps and wild Pokémon lurking in the shadows.
In the entrance exam, the threat of a Pokémon attack was a reality. To an Orrean, that was as terrifying as a "Haunted House" attraction where the actors actually used live ammunition.
Because of this, "safety in numbers" became the default strategy. Team Snagem never banned teaming up, so it was only natural for people to huddle together.
However, according to seniors who had survived previous exams, large groups were more likely to be targeted and attacked. And even if they were lucky enough to find the objective, the "spoils" were rarely shared equally, often leading to backstabbing.
Kashiwagi didn't want it to come to that.
Their group was already at a disadvantage compared to Shibata's gang. If they started infighting now, they'd be under Shibata's thumb for the rest of their lives.
"There's a fork in the road ahead. Be careful," Kashiwagi warned, glancing at his companions. "The Pokémon are likely waiting right there... Don't be so tense. Relax. Deep breaths."
The others were either drenched in sweat or hyperventilating, their faces pale with terror. They were at their breaking point.
Once they finally managed to steady themselves, Kashiwagi said, "Don't linger at the junction. Pick a direction and move fast. I'll pull up the rear."
"Eh?" The group looked at him in surprise.
"Don't 'eh' me. Just move. The tokens are limited; if someone else grabs them first, we're done for." Kashiwagi moved to the back of the line. "Go!"
When people are pushed to the brink of panic, they lose their logic. Survival instincts can make people do incredibly stupid things. If he stayed at the front and chaos broke out, he'd be the first one dragged down.
There's an old saying: when you encounter a bear in the wild, you don't need to outrun the bear—you just need to outrun the person next to you.
He didn't plan on throwing them to the wolves, but he had to make sure he wasn't the one being thrown.
"Kashiwagi..."
Unaware of his cold calculations, his colleagues looked at him with touched expressions. They gave each other a quick pep talk and began to inch forward.
Kashiwagi took a deep breath, his eyes darting around. In a place like this, carelessness meant death. The constant threat to his life forced him to stay sharp and focus on every suspicious detail.
Team Snagem's Pokémon were mostly Ground and Rock types—perfectly suited for these mines. Fighting them here was a losing game.
They stepped into the junction.
The space opened up slightly. Everyone's nerves were pulled taut like bowstrings as they scanned the area for any sign of danger. The man in the lead didn't hesitate, aiming straight for the leftmost tunnel—
"Wait," Kashiwagi barked from the rear.
Everyone froze. Cold sweat poured down their backs.
"W-what is it?" someone stammered.
"You're the one who said not to linger!" another cried, panic rising in his voice.
"Shh!" Kashiwagi hissed. "Listen. Do you hear that rumbling? The ground is shaking!"
The group looked at each other, reflexively holding their breath.
Kashiwagi listened intently. His keen senses picked up more than just the vibration in the floor; the faint rumble-rumble was growing louder by the second, like a massive object hurtling toward them.
The source was—the middle tunnel!
His eyes widened. "Run! Something's coming! Go, go, go!"
Just as the words left his mouth, a massive boulder, the size of a grown man, roared out of the darkness of the center tunnel. It was moving with terrifying speed.
"Which way?!"
"Left!"
"Which way is left?! Where's Kashiwagi?!"
"Move! Don't just stand there!"
The four of them descended into total chaos. Their headlamps swung wildly, blinding each other in the pitch-black tunnels. To make matters worse, as the vibrations intensified, rocks began to rain down from the ceiling. The whole place felt like it was about to collapse.
Between the panic, the screaming, and the sudden assault of the massive rolling stone, Kashiwagi's instincts took over. He sprinted, putting a significant distance between himself and the junction.
Even in the heat of the moment, he kept his eyes on the floor and walls, dodging traps and avoiding any suspicious shadows.
When he finally felt safe enough to stop and look back, he was alone. Not a single person had followed him.
The giant boulder—likely a Graveler in disguise—was nowhere to be seen.
"There were three paths. I definitely chose the left one," Kashiwagi muttered, frowning. He waited for a minute, eventually realizing he had been separated from the group.
Go back? Unlikely. That Graveler was probably still lurking there.
"..."
A flash of regret crossed his face. Teaming up had its pros and cons. His colleagues were a mess under pressure, but who knew if they might have lent a hand in a real crisis?
But if they were gone, they were gone. No point dwelling on it.
Kashiwagi composed himself. It was easy to lose your sense of direction in a mine, but if you looked closely at the walls, there were crude signposts—simple enough for even a semi-literate person like him to understand.
He walked for about ten minutes.
Suddenly, he stopped and crouched down, dousing his headlamp. He pressed himself into a crevice between two large rocks, making himself as small as possible.
He waited. Half a minute later, two dragonfly-like Pokémon, Vibrava, buzzed past overhead. The high-pitched drone of their wings made Kashiwagi's head throb with a dull ache.
What made his heart sink, however, was seeing one of them clutching a blood-stained young man in its claws.
Was he unconscious? Or dead?
Neither option boded well. Being alone was proving to be extremely dangerous.
Once the Vibrava had droned off into the distance, Kashiwagi exhaled and prepared to stand up. Then, he froze.
At the edge of his vision, a pair of glowing blue eyes was watching him.
"Kyu?" the creature let out a low, metallic grunt.
Kashiwagi's movements became stiff. The buzzing of the Vibrava had been so loud that he hadn't heard this thing approach.
He squinted, trying to identify it.
It was deep grey, resembling a strange metallic insect with a head that looked like a hockey mask. It was about the size of a border collie, and the dark, hollow holes in its armor were deeply unsettling.
It was the Iron Armor Pokémon, Aron.
It ate iron ore for sustenance and, driven by hunger, was known to devour bridges and railroad tracks. To many, it was a pest. A Steel and Rock type.
Dammit.
His luck had officially run out.