For what must have been the millionth time today, I considered tearing the stupid helmet off of my head.

  When I’d picked up the plastic covering from a costume surplus store, it sure seemed like a good idea. A ‘knight helmet’ to go along with my knights. Cheap, easy to clean, and completely identity-hiding. What could go wrong?

  Plenty, as it turns out. Firstly, the damn thing was all but impossible to see clearly out of. Something I’d forgotten, cheap usually also meant crappy, and in this case, it meant headgear that felt very much akin to putting a plastic bucket over my head. No support, no framing, just the thing plopped over my cranium. It kept slipping and sliding everywhere, and it was a constant effort to readjust it so I could see out of the obnoxiously tiny eye-slits.

  Further, it kept rubbing against my currently-sensitive ears, irritating the new piercings I’d gotten just a few days ago. I’d have to check them carefully tonight, to make sure that I didn’t cause any damage with my extremely poor choice in fashion statement.

  And that was the third, and maybe most egregious problem. It just didn’t look very good. The helmet was too big for me, which not only contributed to the other two issues, but also made me look like an Elgyem or something. It also had a fake, plasticy vibe that was evident even from far away.

  All told, the thing was an utter disaster. Truly a horrendous mistake that I’d be living down for weeks.

  And yet, with all that said, the only thing worse than wearing the stupid helmet would be going around as the only person at the Underpass without something covering my face. So for now, my horrible decision remained firmly plastered on my head. Or rather, shakily balanced on it.

  At least the rest of the day had gone better..

  The Underleader had accepted my challenge, and my team was, if not ready, then pretty close to it.

  My knights were of course eager to go, no hesitation from them.

  Mana had also made leaps and bounds in the days leading up to today, and while I wasn’t sure about her chances in the battle, I was at least confident enough to let her have a go at it.

  The biggest question-mark was Maushold. They were definitely strong enough, of that I had no doubt, but we hadn’t even been together for a month yet, and while they told me they were ready, I was a little leery about letting them battle.

  I’d already learned my lesson about listening to my partners, though, and if they said they were prepared, I would just have to take them at their word, and do my best to watch out for them.

  We were in it together now, and I didn’t intend to ever let them feel otherwise.

  I looked up from my musings at my opponent, a tall woman who told me to call her Peaches. The name made me think Grass-type, but her outfit screamed something different. While Underleader Tran’s bandana and shades combo gave him a real, Road-Warrior look, only reinforced by the man’s studded biker jacket, Peaches’s neckerchief gave a very different impression. The rancher hat and jeans-blue button-up completed the image of a picture-perfect stockwoman, and the whole ensemble was rounded-off with actual mud-stains and a fine covering of silt.

  No, I had different suspicions about where Peaches’ speciality lay, suspicions validated when we both released our partners onto the field.

  “Mana, you’re up!” “Help me out Momo!”

  Mana floated in front of me, my adorable fishy friend staring down at an equally-adorable opponent. Wide, unblinking eyes peered at my piscine partner from beneath a pair of long, twitching ears. Massive incisors clicked anxiously, and the little tuft of brown fur around the Bunnelby’s neck stood all up on end as she readied for battle.

  I had to fight to keep an ‘ahhh’ under control as I waited for a spectator to call the start of the battle. Bunnelby were one of the few Normal-types actually beloved in Ferrum, owing to their status as a mascot for one of the region’s biggest brands.

  Diggsy Inc. produced movies, television shows, comics, and more, most featuring an adorable cast of characters, headlined by Brigsy the Diggersby. Consequently, Bunnelby and their evolutionary form were practically icons here in Ferrum, though this was my first time seeing one of the rare Pokémon in person. They were just as loveable in real life as they were on the big screen, and it took all of my focus to wrench most of my attention back to the battle at hand, even as a small part of myself was still internally reveling at how cute our opponent was.

  “This will be a three-on-three battle between Underleader Peaches, and the challenger, Artie!” One of the spectators helpfully announced. “The challenger is allowed one switch. Are both sides ready?”

  “All set o’er here!” my blue-haired opponent replied, an enthusiastic thumbs up pointed towards our impromptu ref.

  “Ready,” I called out, nodding, and then stifling a curse as my reflexive motion sent the bucket atop my head askew.

  “Then we’ll begin! In Three! Two! One! Battle!”

  “Altitude!” I called, at the same time as my opponent shouted, “Quick Attack!”

  Our partners followed the commands, mine going high while Peaches’ went low. Momo practically flew across the ground, clipping Mana before she could get much height. My heart hurt as the little Water-type let out a cry of pain, but she fought through it, continuing her ascent until the translucent barrier above kept her from going up any further.

  “Barrage!” I called out, directing Mana to tilt herself down, open mouth pointed at Momo. A funnel of water flowed out, tracking towards the grounded Normal-type. Claiming the high ground and the use of ranged attacks certainly weren’t revolutionary strategies, but Mana’s repertoire was desperately lacking, and just because something was uninspired, didn’t mean it couldn’t be effective.

  Unfortunately for us, Momo wasn’t about to be the victim of such a simplistic maneuver. She didn’t even need a command from the Underleader, easily hopping out of the way of the puttering Water Guns Mana sent her way.

  “Show ‘em they’re not the only ones packing heat! Mud Shot!” Peaches shouted.

  Momo swept down between dodges, pulling two earfuls of silty dirt from the ground using her paw-like pinnas. She whirled her head, before unleashing the mud scattershot, like stones loosed from a sling.

  Just like Momo, Mana didn’t need instructions to dodge, adroitly swimming out of the way of the upcoming clods. My heart swelled with pride as I watched her move through the air. A week ago, she wouldn’t have been able to avoid that attack, but now she could get out of the way all on her own.

  Just barely. Against a slow-moving ground-type move fired into the air.

  But progress was progress, dammit!

  Unfortunately, Peaches and Momo didn’t give us any freedom to celebrate our successes, as a veritable barrage of dirt sailed through the air, the Normal-type’s ears spinning like propellers as they scooped and hurled the silt at my hovering partner.

  Mana ducked and weaved, her little tail churning behind her as she tried to pick up enough speed to get out of the way. Every time the angle lined up properly, she’d open her mouth, and send out another spurt of water, but Momo dodge them easily each time, letting the cool liquid splash harmlessly against the ground below.

  The twitchy Bunnelby was showing no signs of slowing down, and Mana couldn’t keep up with the veritable fusillade. We needed to change things up if we were gonna have any chance. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a ton of options. My eyes cast over the field, looking for something we could do to turn things around without spending one of my switches already.

  I almost grabbed the Poké Ball off my belt, but just before I did, my eyes caught something. Small holes, dug in the earth by Momo’s not-so-tender ministrations. Little depressions, filled with slowly draining pools of energy-generated water.

  Interesting trivia, unless a Pokémon really focused on maintaining it, the matter created by their moves would quickly decay back into type-energy. Water, rock, and flames would all fade away in a mere seconds, dissipating unless an outside force acted on them.

  But, seconds were a long time in the heat of battle, and while that matter was on the field, it acted mostly like the real thing. “Mana, flood!” I shouted putting as much conviction into my voice as I could.

  The more advanced Water-type attack Brine was usually beyond my diminutive partner, and even when she could get it off, it didn’t have the same consistency as Water Gun. All of that changed, however, when she had an already-existing source of water to pull from.

  I couldn’t give more specific commands, since it would warn Peaches and Momo about the impending danger, but maybe Mana would understand. I felt my fists clench, as I hoped desperately that my piscine partner figured out what I was asking.

  For a few moments, Mana just continued dodging, apparently confused by my command, and I felt my heart sinking. Just as I was about to recall her, however, I heard the determined Water-type let out her most ferocious cry. I recognized the little squeaking call, and I felt my spirits buoy up as sure enough, the water splattered by her earlier Water Guns began to swirl. The puddles in the holes surrounding Momo shook, and then began to roar in response to Mana’s call, swelling up and crashing in towards the unsuspecting Bunnelby.

  The more powerful water move smashed into Momo, sending her sprawling to the ground, caught off-guard by the attack from below.

  “Now Mana, Blast her!” I called, intent on making sure we capitalized as much as possible.

  The little Yowashi darted in, water brimming from her open maw. She let loose another stream, the semi-pressurised water slamming into the downed Bunnelby, causing the Normal-type to squirm.

  “Keep it up!” I shouted, excited for my partner. We were doing it! Mana was winning!

  After all my fretting, all my worrying, it’d been– easy. Surprisingly easy. Too easy.

  A silent alarm began blaring in the back of my mind, and a part of me began working furiously to try to figure out what was wrong. That element of my attention flitted first to Momo, who appeared to be struggling quite thoroughly under Mana’s onslaught, then to my partner herself, who showed no signs of letting up or tiring. Finally it jumped to Peaches, who was just standing across the field from me, arms crossed and shoulders loose.

  The Underleader didn’t look even a little bit concerned.

  My focus tracked back to the combatants, Momo floundering on the ground, and Mana, swimming closer, Water Gun firing. Moving inexorably towards her target as she kept her mouth aimed at the Normal-type.

  Panic flooded my head. “Mana, veer off!” I commanded, putting as much urgency into my voice as I could.

  I shouted loud, but my voice couldn’t hold a candle to Peaches’, which erupted forth at the same moment. “Momo, Flail ‘em!”

  The floundering Bunnelby suddenly sprang forwards, using her ears to do an impeccable kip up that sent her flying at my charging partner.

  I saw Mana’s eyes widen fractionally in alarm before I lost all sight of her as Momo slammed into her and began rampaging, sending them both careening into the ground.

  “Get out of there!” I called out in vain, as the Normal-type continued to ravage my partner, laying about with feet, fists, and ears in a veritable maelstrom of limbs.

  Every time Mana tried to dart away, another strike would pin her back to the ground, keeping her from escaping.

  I grit my teeth, and considered again going for the ball on my belt, but I was once again forestalled by Mana’s piercing cry, this time louder than I’d ever heard it before.

  I looked up, watching with surprise as water formed around the struggling pair. For a moment, the flowing liquid writhed and squirmed, almost like it was alive. Small lights dotted the tumultuous mass, like flashing eyes in the deep, but they vanished just as quickly as they appeared, and the Brine crashed into Momo, again sending the Bunnelby sprawling.

  Mana, clearly tired and flagging, tried to swim through the air away from the staggering Normal-type. She almost made it too, but I saw the moment her energy flagged, and her hydrokinesis failed her. The little Water-type’s progress slowed to a crawl, as she found herself barely able to keep aloft.

  And Momo wasn’t about to let that go unpunished. The Bunnelby reared up, ears held above her head and clasped together, before bringing them both slamming down on Mana, sending my poor partner crashing to the ground.

  The spectator refereeing held up a hand, and shouted, “Hold!” Momo obligingly backed off, taking deep gasping breaths as she stepped away from Mana’s trembling form.

  My brave little fish tried once to rise, twice, before flopping down, clearly unable to move. She let out a pitious cry, somehow still conscious, but without the energy left to fight.

  “The challenger’s partner is unable to battle! The first knockout goes to the Underleader!”

  I recalled Mana to her ball, and held it close to my mouth for a few moments. “You were incredible out there,” I reassured her, letting some of the awe I felt at her determination into my voice. “I got overeager, and didn’t see the obvious trap. I promise you, I’ll lead you better next time.”

  The ball remained still in my hand, its occupant clearly too exhausted to respond, but I could swear I felt some small wave of satisfaction come from the spherical device.

  “How do you like Momo’s acting? She’s a retired TV-star, you know?” Peaches taunted from across the field, her grin obvious from the tone of her voice.

  “Bunnel, Bunnelby!” The tired Normal-type boasted, puffing herself up as much as her water-logged fur would allow.

  “Really? I dunno, she seemed like sort of a ham, from where I was standing!” I called back, trying to keep my tone playful as I pulled another ball from my belt. “I’ve always heard that the best performances are subtle!”

  “Everyone’s a critic,” Peaches replied with a laugh. “But do you have the chops to back up your analysis?”

  I pulled my hand back, and let the Poké Ball fly. “Maushold, let’s show them exactly what we’ve got!”

  The chittering Normal-types took to the field, spooling out of their ball and immediately forming up across from the glaring Bunnelby, who’d apparently taken none-to-well to my evaluation of her performance, judging by the harsh expression on her face.

  Seeing Momo’s adorable mein all twisted up like that made something in my heart hurt, but I pushed that aside to focus on the battle. “Mana weakened her a lot guys, you’ve got this. Just like we’ve practiced.”

  Answering chitters informed me that my orders had been heard, and the helpful spectator counted us in once again.

  “The battle will resume in three, two, one, begin!”

  “Echoed Voice!” “Quick Attack!”

  Our commands came out at the same time, both of us ordering our partners to attack.

  Momo charged forwards at a blistering speed, slamming into one of the bigger Mauses. Unfortunately for her, that put her sensitive ears far too close to the suddenly horrendous racket my newest partners were now producing.

  The sound came off them in waves that almost seemed visible, outpourings of energy that made me wince even at this distance.

  Up close and personal, Momo had no chance. She staggered back, long ears curled in on themselves in a vain attempt to resist the awful noise.

  Eventually, the sound petered out, Maushold unable to keep the move going any longer. Someday, I wanted to get each Maus to use the move independently, abusing their status as a multi-mon and the odd properties of Echoed Voice to increase in potency each time the move was used in a fight.

  We weren’t there yet, or anywhere close, really, since all three of them needed to strike together for the attack to really be effective, but Momo was already weakened enough from Mana’s efforts that it didn’t matter. The Normal-type collapsed to the arena ground, out of syn and insensate.

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  “Momo is no longer able to battle. Underleader Peaches, send out your next Pokémon!”

  The Stockwoman recalled her partner, whispering something to the still ball that I couldn’t hear over the crowd's murmurs. A few moments later, she released her next Pokémon onto the field, this one a Ground-type in true.

  “Sssssssss” The little snake hissed, as he unfurled himself to his full, not inconsiderable length.

  Another Pokémon I’d never seen in person before, and I was far less familiar with this one than I was with Bunnelby. I knew of Silicobra’s, I knew that there was a population of them in the Nacal desert, far to the Northwest of Ferrum’s biggest population centers, and I knew that they were a pure Ground-type.

  Everything else, I was going to have to figure out on the fly.

  “Ready! Three, two, one, begin!”

  At the spectator’s call, both Pokémon burst into motion, neither waiting for commands. Maushold backpedaled, seeming instinctively averse to their slithering foe, even as Peaches’ partner advanced, sand whipping around him as he writhed forwards.

  That was fine, we could work with this. “Bullet Seed! Keep him back!”

  From behind, I could see the edges of their cheek pouches as they swelled up. Moments later, a barrage of seeds erupted from three mouths, small, verdant bolts of green tearing through the encroaching serpent.

  “Minimize Sike! Don’t let them hit you!”

  Peaches' order came just after mine, and Sike responded almost instantly, his whole form deflating in a puff of sand, the formerly three-dimensional snake somehow becoming almost flat.

  The fusillade of Bullet Seeds flew over his head, and while my newest partners were able to adjust their aim and hit him with a few shots, it was far from enough to stop his charge.

  In mere moments, Peaches’ partner was in and amongst mine. “Wrap! Don’t let them get away!” The Underleader called.

  “Super Fang!” I called, knowing they wouldn’t all be able to escape. “Give him everything you’ve got!”

  Three maws opened up, though only two were able close on the slippery snake, as the final Maus found themself enveloped completely in Sike’s sandy coils.

  The Silicobra let out a hiss of distress as two big chunks were taken out of his syn, but he held fast to his captive, tightening his muscles against the struggling Maus.

  Worse, as the other two bit into him, massive clouds of sand erupted off of Sike, spiraling around him in a flurry, generating a miniature sandstorm that surrounded the Ground-type.

  “Don’t let them get away with that! Doze ‘em!” Peaches shouted, directing her partner to heave his head up into the air.

  Sike brought his skull down to the earth with a dull thud, and reverberations began traveling through the earth with him at the epicenter.

  The wave of disrupted ground sent Maushold sprawling, and evoked another cry of pain from the Maus still trapped in Sike’s coils.

  “Helping Hand! You need to get them out of there!”

  The two free Mauses backed up, shouting encouragement and taking little dance steps that shunted energy towards their trapped compatriot, who began pushing against their bonds with renewed vigor.

  “None of that! Sand Tomb!” Peaches called out a counter.

  The whipping sand around Sike coalesced into a sandy pit, with the Silicobra at the center, further trapping the poor Maus inside.

  The other two faltered in their dance, as the wrapped Maus proved unable to free themself. They let out little distressed noises, edging around the miniature sinkhole, trying to find a way to help.

  “Echoed Voice!” I tried, even though the move would be weaker without all three of them working together.

  Sure enough, the Silicobra seemed more annoyed by the raucous noise, rather than hurt.

  “Doze ‘em again! While they’re standing still!”

  More reverberation rang out from the sandy pit as Sike’s head rumbled into the ground over and over.

  The two free Mauses were forced to break off their attack, as they got thrown around by the buckling ground.

  I could even feel the move’s aftereffects from where I was standing, my knees trembling slightly as the earth beneath me swayed. I grit my teeth, trying to think of a way out of the situation. Bullet Seed? It would just get blocked by the sandstorm. Super Fang? Getting in close like that would just free us up to get Bulldozed, same as with Echoed Voice. Double Hit had the same problem. And Wrap and Sand Tomb meant recalling my partners wasn’t on the table either.

  Even as my thoughts were racing, my eyes were tracking the battle, and the increasingly desperate motions of the two free Mauses. Another distressed cry from the pit caused them to flinch, and I could see the moment the fight left them.

  I sagged, but I didn’t hesitate. “I’m withdrawing Maushold from the battle!” I called out to Peaches, causing the woman to look up at me. I couldn’t read her expression behind the neckerchief, but after a moment, she nodded.

  “Sike, let ‘em go.” The Underleader directed. After a few seconds, the sandstorm abated, and the arena leveled out, the Ground-type emerging from his pit and depositing a thoroughly shaken and very dirty Maus.

  The exhausted Pokémon let out a few little hiccups of distress as the other two Mauses crowded around them, fussing over their dirt-covered fur and sand-blasted skin.

  I went onto the field to check on them, and once I’d verified that they weren’t hurt too badly, I helped shepherd them off to the sidelines. “Once we win this fight, I’ll take you guys to the Pokémon Center and Nurse Joy will make sure everything is alright, sound good?” I tried to reassure them.

  The exhausted Pokémon nodded, and I raised up their Poké Ball. “You guys did great out there, it was a tough matchup for you. Do you want me to recall you, or do you want to watch the rest of the battle?”

  The two cleaner Mauses looked at their mussed companion, who took a few deep breaths, before holding up two little digits.

  “The second one?” I confirmed, which got a nod from the exhausted Normal-type. “Alright, you guys stand right here next to me then. We’ll be done here soon, I promise.” I stood back up, taking my place on my end of the battlefield, facing off again with the Stockwoman across the arena.

  “Bold words for someone down a Pokémon!” The Underleader called out, hands on hips. “Tran was really talking you up in our last meeting? Is this all you’ve got?”

  I blinked a bit, surprised that the other woman had been able to hear me past the bucket covering my head. “You haven’t seen anything yet!” I retorted, my muffled shout crossing the arena. I grabbed the last Poké Ball off of my belt, and hurled it forwards. “Knights, come on out. We’re playing blitz.”

  Six little balls took to the field, arranging in an aggressively splayed formation as they set up to follow my command.

  “The challenger is down to their final Pokémon! Ready! Three! Two! One! Begin!”

  “Sike, Sand Tomb!” this time, Peaches’ voice was the only one that rang out. I knew that I didn’t need to give my knights another command yet.

  My partners were already bursting into motion. No frills, no tricksy maneuvers, just a dramatic First Impression.

  They’d only figured this move out a couple of days ago, but it came so naturally to them, I had a hard time believing that it was Bug-type, and not Fighting. It’d been a goal to work towards for months now, the second-to-last offering on the list of moves provided by the former Stow-on-Side gym leader, Abigail, and seeing it performed in a real battle lived up to my expectations and then some.

  My knights practically blurred forwards, finally capable of a move that pushed them into priority speeds.

  Sike the Silicobra only had time for a quick hiss of surprise before six bristling battle balls collided with him, causing the startled Ground-type to release a puff of sand as he was knocked sprawling.

  In close, my knights didn’t relent, laying into the staggered Silicobra with Rock Smashes and Headbutts, slamming him for a few moments, before all collectively backing off.

  Sure enough, as the dust around the battle cleared, Sike’s clearly unconscious form lay resting against the arena’s floor, the Ground-type unresponsive to Peaches’ desperate commands.

  After a few moments of silence, the spectator called out, “Sike is unable to battle! Both competitors are down to their last Pokémon!”

  I heard murmurs and whispers coming from the crowd, some part of me listening in to each word I could make out, but I banished that to the back of my mind, refocusing on the arena as the Underleader’s final partner took to the battlefield.

  Peaches’ last Pokémon was quite a bit taller than her other two, a full meter or so of obstinate-looking ass. That was to say, our final opponent was an ornery-seeming Mudbray.

  Usually even-tempered Pokémon, something about this particular specimen seemed– agitated, somehow. Maybe it was in the eyes, the way they darted around, or perhaps the constant helicoptering of their little, bristly tail.

  Whatever it was, I resolved not to underestimate this particular donkey

  No matter how much comparing it’s auburn locks to Alyssa’s made me want to laugh-out-loud.

  “This will be the final battle!” the helpful spectator announced. “Three! Two! One! Begin!”

  “Almian Gambit!” I shouted, directing my knights with our most straight-forward strategy. Get in there and hit the enemy.

  My partners rushed forwards, horns lowered as they plowed towards the Mudbray with a Headbutt. We couldn’t use First Impression again without switching, the move only worked when it was the first attack a Pokémon employed in a battle, but their charge was still pretty quick, and Peaches’ seemed slow to offer her partner a command.

  My knights collided with Mudbray, seemingly unobstructed, recoiling off of the Ground-type and quickly regrouping for another attack.

  The Pokémon staggered, seemingly beaten back by my knights, but something about the motion caught my eye. A certain stiffness, not quite naturalistic with the way he’d taken the hit.

  My knights rammed into him again, and while the Mudbray seemed like he was affected, something about it rubbed me the wrong way. The passivity was incongruous with the aggression he’d been showing when he first hit the field. He had to be doing something, and while Peaches’ strategies and open commands hadn’t impressed me so far, she was the Underleader for a reason. She wouldn’t just let her partner get beat up without there being something going on..

  My suspicions crystallized into certainty as I saw a glimmer of steel, subtle energy reinforcing the seemingly dazed Mudbray. It dawned on me that Momo probably wasn’t the only actor on Peaches’ team.

  “Mokov Defense!” I shouted, trying to get my knights to reposition before we fell any deeper into the Underleader’s trap.

  To their immense credit, my knights didn’t hesitate, backing off immediately and beginning to glow with inner energy.

  Another strategy named after a chess opening, Mokov Defense was my instruction to focus fully on buffing up as much as possible, using Bulk Up over and over without worrying about what our opponent was doing.

  My knights would keep powering up until they literally couldn’t or I called out a different command. Or at least, that was the idea.

  “I think we’re made Charger. Do one more and then get in there.” Peaches called with a chuckle in her voice.

  Cover blown, Charger the Mudbray began glowing with light of his own, the subtlety of his previous Iron Defenses abandoned now in favor of speed. I recognized the move from my spars with Donna, and I knew that if he was a proficient user, Charger would have had enough time to all but maximize his physical defense, almost as if he was synergizing with a partner, but only for the one stat.

  Considering it hadn’t even taken a command from Peaches for the Mudbray to start boosting, I had to assume that he was more than just adept with the move.

  That left us with two options. We could batter his defenses until we got lucky, or we could boost ourselves to match.

  Grimly, I watched as my knights committed themselves to the second course of action at my command, forming up in a line and shouting their enthusiasm as they powered up.

  They had quite a bit of catching up to do, however, and Charger took to his namesake, breaking into a trot, and then a full-on run after finishing his last Iron Defense.

  “High Horsepower!” Peaches shouted, rather unnecessarily since the command came after Charger was already using the move.

  Belatedly, it dawned on me that perhaps her shouting out the names of her partners’ attacks wasn’t for the Pokémon’s benefit. Peaches’ team clearly had a performative bent, which made it seem likely that the same was true for the woman herself. Dramatically announcing your attacks wasn’t a great strategy, but it did make for a great spectacle.

  Either way, I didn’t have time to worry about that now. Charger trampled through my boosting partners, and I practically held my breath as I watched him rampage through their line, sending them sprawling.

  I couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped me when, after the dust settled, I saw them still focused, still powering up in-spite of the Ground-type’s attempt to interrupt them.

  Even better, they’d definitely gotten off at least one Bulk Up, substantially diminishing the damage they’d take from Charger’s attacks.

  The ornery Pokémon began another charge, and I considered telling my knights to get out of the way, but a quick calculation in my mind told me that they were probably almost done with a third charge. Based on our training, it took three and change uninterrupted seconds for my knights to finish a Bulk Up, and if I gave them a few extra moments of leeway to account for the duress from Charger’s hits, they’d probably be able to get that crucial third boost in after soaking one more attack.

  Sure enough, the next impact barely fazed them, and they snapped to focus and dodged out of the way of the next High Horsepower, regrouping just in front of me on my side of the battlefield.

  Charger fell back, perhaps noticing the futility of his strikes, and the nine of us stared at one another from across the battlefield.

  “Well, what now?” Peaches shouted, her voice actually sounding sort of frustrated for the first time since I’d met her. “Pretty boring battle from here on if neither of us have a Special Attack to use.”

  I knew she couldn’t see it, but I hoped my opponent was able to hear the grin on my face. “Peaches, what’s Charger’s ability?”

  There was no reason for the other woman to tell me, but I asked on a hunch, and sure enough, the Underleader, perhaps sensing the opportunity for some kind of showmanship or drama, responded. “Stamina! It makes it so when he gets hit with an attack, his defense goes up. Why do you ask?”

  “My knights have the ability Battle Armor,” I said in lieu of explaining my question. “They can’t take lucky shots.”

  Lucky shots. Also known as critical hits (not in Ferrum, where that particular term already meant something else). Also known as pressure points.

  Love them, hate them, they were a part of battling, and they were also one of the many things Drake had made sure I understood before he finished teaching me.

  Sometimes, a move just hit harder than usual. Maybe it found a way through the gaps in a Pokémon’s syn, maybe it impacted a particularly vulnerable bit of biology, or maybe it just happened to do more damage than usual for whatever reason.

  The phenomenon was hard to explain, and inconsistent, but demonstrably a thing that happened. In fact, some Pokémon and moves were particularly, statistically better at landing lucky shots.

  And some Pokémon were immune to them. Like my knights.

  I saw Peaches shoulders slump as she grasped the implications.

  The other funny thing about lucky shots. They ignored defensive boosting.

  “Knights, Focus Energy!” I commanded with a flourish, unable to stop myself from playing a little bit into the drama of my reveal.

  “Charger, get in there!” Peaches ordered desperately.

  But alas, it was too late. My knights weathered another two High Horsepowers without flinching, their empowered defenses letting them shake off the powerful attack.

  As Charger came in for his third pass, I shouted a command. “Now! Reversal!”

  This time, instead of just taking the hit, my knights retaliated, letting out a cascade of orange energy, and then slamming into the rampaging Ground-type.

  Our opponents weren’t out of it just yet, though.

  “Charger, Counter!” Peaches called, causing my eyes to open in alarm.

  According to Arte’s journal, Counter didn’t care about an opponent’s defenses, just how much damage the move it was retaliating against had dealt to the user.

  “Protect!” I shouted desperately. Peaches’ dramatic command gave me just enough warning to scream my own, and like her I forwent any codes or obfuscation to convey my order as fast as possible.

  Charger staggered back, and then spun around, giving me a perfect view of his snarling expression. The look was oddly terrifying on a creature I’d normally associate with placidity. He raised his hind legs and then pistoned them towards my knights with an eruption of force that sent Peaches’ hat tumbling from her blue locks from halfway across the arena..

  For a heart-wrenching instant, I thought my partners weren’t going to get their defenses up in time.

  And then a shimmering barrier appeared, just before they were struck by the powerful attack.

  Charger’s hooves slammed into the wall of energy with a crash that made Peaches’ and I stagger and the barrier surrounding us wobble for a half-second.

  A cracking sound followed, as the hasty Protect crumbled apart under the onslaught, but the move had already done its job, allowing my knights to tumble underneath Charger’s outstretched legs unscathed. They leapt up, shields aglow, and then plowed into the Ground-type one final time, pummeling the pugnacious Mudbray into the dusty arena.

  They leapt back, and once again, when the dust cleared, it revealed their opponent unconscious on the ground.

  “Charger is unable to battle! The challenger and her partners are victorious!” Shouted the spectator from the crowd, eliciting shouts of excitement and cheers from the assembled viewers.

  I let out my own cry of joy, before turning down to face Maushold next to me. The motion sent my ill-fitted helmet tumbling, and I took a second to adjust it before crouching down. “See, what did I tell you? Finished in no time at all.”

  My newest partners looked up at me, unblinking eyes pointed at mine. Their expressions were still mostly inscrutable to me, but I was able to take some cues from their body language. Paws clenched, shoulders tight. To my relief, they didn’t look defeated. They looked determined.

  “Let me recall you now, alright? We’ll get you checked out in the Pokémon Center, and then we can do some well-deserved grooming.”

  I got a trio of nods, and recalled them, before taking to the field to celebrate with my knights, who were already throwing one another into the air in their exuberance.

  -

  I rolled the small metal pin in my fingers as I walked home, my knights trooping along behind me.

  “This Clay badge is proof that you won our battle fair and square. Congrats kid,” Peaches’ words reverberated in my mind, as I stared down at the small emblem, shaped like an ancient clay pot.

  The last I’d seen of the woman was her blue hair, swirling behind her as the crowd closed around me to celebrate my victory, the various masks and their wearers cutting off my sight of the Underleader.

  Just who were these people? I hadn’t really gotten the mask thing a couple of weeks ago, but now I felt like I was kind of beginning to understand the appeal. Peaches must have a fascinating story, to be partnered with a rare Pokémon like Bunnelby. And the whole outfit! Was it a costume? Or was Peaches actually an experienced stockwoman, someone more at home on the range than in the city? What did she do on the weekdays, when she wasn’t moonlighting as one of Techne’s strongest standard battlers? Why did she have such a performative flair? Or was it about teaching, showing off moves and strategies to the other, less experienced battlers at the Underpasses?

  The questions abounded, everything made fresh and exciting by the mystery. I– I wanted that. The clumsy bucket helmet clanked and clattered in my backpack, my own faltering attempt at artifice seeming lazy now in comparison to what I’d experienced.

  I’d considered just dumping the damn thing, but that’d be littering.

  And also, maybe there was something there. Something that could be salvaged.

  My thoughts turned to the last arts and crafts project I’d done, helping Maushold construct their new nest underneath my bed a couple of weeks ago. Maybe I wouldn’t need to go far to find the help I needed with turning the tacky costume element into something more. Into one of the pieces of someone I could be.

  Who was Artie? What was her story?

  Was it mine?

  Did it have to be?

  I wasn’t sure, but I felt some excitement building in me at the prospect of finding out.