Morning came too quickly and with it, a bucket of ice water in the form of whispered conversations.

  Micah noticed it first in the cafeteria. The way conversations died when he approached, then resumed at a lower volume once he'd passed. The sidelong glances, the barely concealed smirks from a group of field operatives he didn't know well.

  "What's going on?" he asked Lucas, who'd been waiting at their usual table.

  Lucas's expression was troubled. "You haven't heard?"

  "Heard what?"

  "There's... gossip. Going around. About your match yesterday."

  Micah set down his breakfast tray harder than intended. "What kind of gossip?"

  "Some people are saying you had an unfair advantage. That Bellatrix is too well-trained for a basic tournament, that she's not really your Pokémon." Lucas hesitated. "Someone started a rumor that you're using a loaner from the administration, that it's favoritism."

  The words hit like physical blows. Micah looked around the cafeteria, suddenly seeing the glances and whispers in a new, hostile light.

  "That's ridiculous. Bellatrix has been with me because Donny is still-,"

  "I know," Lucas interrupted gently. "Kira and I know. But rumors don't care about truth."

  Before Micah could respond, his communicator buzzed. A message from tournament administration: Report to supervisor office immediately.

  His stomach dropped.

  The walk to the administrative wing felt like a march to execution. Bellatrix trotted beside him, sensing his distress, pressing against his leg in silent support. Donny was back in his Pokeball,Micah didn't want him to be involved in this, whatever this was.

  The supervisor's office was sterile, professional. Three administrators sat behind a long desk, their expressions neutral. Micah recognized one,Marcus, a mid-level manager in the operations department who'd always struck Micah as someone who followed rules with religious fervor.

  "Micah," Marcus began without preamble. "We've received questions regarding your participation in the tournament. Specifically, regarding your Pokémon."

  "Questions from who?"

  "That's not relevant. What is relevant is that upon review, we've discovered that Bellatrix",he gestured to the Houndour,"was issued to you as a temporary partner. A loaner Pokémon, provided until your Rhyhorn reached battle-ready age."

  Micah's mouth went dry.

  "The paperwork," one of the other administrators cut in, a severe woman whose nameplate read 'Chen,' "indicates she was never officially transferred to your ownership. She remains, on record, property of Team Magma's training program."

  "That's a technicality," Micah protested. "Everyone knows she's my partner. We've been working together,"

  "Tournament rules are clear," Marcus said, his tone maddeningly calm. "Only Pokémon officially owned by the trainer may compete. As your Rhyhorn,Donny, correct?,has now reached the recommended age for battle, there's no administrative need for you to retain the loaner."

  "You can't be serious."

  "We're quite serious. Effective immediately, you are prohibited from using Bellatrix in further tournament matches. She will be returned to the training program upon the tournament's conclusion."

  The world seemed to tilt. Micah looked down at Bellatrix, who stared back up at him with those intelligent eyes, not understanding the words but feeling his anguish.

  "She's my Pokémon," he said quietly, desperately. "She's been my partner almost as long as Donny has. You can't just,"

  "We can, and we are. This is not negotiable." Chen's voice was ice cold and crystal clear. "You may continue in the tournament with your Rhyhorn, but Bellatrix is ineligible."

  "And if I withdraw?"

  "That's your choice to make. But understand that withdrawing now, after the questions raised about your eligibility, would not reflect well on your record."

  They were boxing him in, Micah realized. Win with Donny and prove himself, or withdraw and be labeled a cheater who couldn't compete without an unfair advantage.

  "Is there anything else?" Marcus asked, clearly ready to end the meeting.

  "No," Micah managed. "Nothing else."

  He left the office in a daze, Bellatrix at his heels. The walk back to his quarters passed in a blur. When he reached his room, he found Kira and Lucas already waiting.

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  "This is bullshit," Kira said immediately. " Everyone knows Bellatrix is basically your Pokémon. The paperwork is just,"

  "A technicality they're exploiting," Lucas finished. "Someone doesn't want you in this tournament, Micah. Someone with enough pull to get administration to enforce a rule that's been ignored for the most part."

  Micah sank into his desk chair, Bellatrix immediately jumping into his lap despite her size. He held her, feeling her warmth, her solid reality.

  "What do I do?" he asked, hating how lost he sounded.

  "Fight it," Kira said instantly. "Go to Maxie. He can override this."

  "Can he?" Micah looked up at them. "Should he? If I run to Maxie every time things get difficult, what does that prove? That I can't handle adversity without special treatment?"

  "This isn't adversity," Lucas argued. "This is sabotage."

  But the seed of doubt had been planted. Micah thought about the whispers in the cafeteria, the accusations of favoritism. If Maxie intervened now, it would only confirm what people were saying.

  "I need to talk to him," Micah decided. "But not to ask him to fix this. I need to understand my options."

  Maxie's office was in the upper floors of the facility, a space that managed to be both austere and commanding. Maps covered the walls,geological surveys, tectonic plate movements, resource distribution patterns. A large window offered a view of Rustboro's industrial sector, smokestacks rising like fingers toward an ash-gray sky.

  Maxie himself sat behind a desk that looked too small for his presence. When Micah entered, the Team Magma leader looked up from a report, his sharp eyes immediately assessing.

  "Micah. I heard about the administration's decision."

  "You heard quickly."

  "I make it my business to know what happens in my organization." Maxie gestured to a chair. "Sit. Talk to me."

  Micah sat, Bellatrix settling at his feet. For a moment, he didn't know where to start, how to articulate the tangle of frustration and fear and desperation knotting his chest.

  "They're taking her away," he finally said. "After the tournament, Bellatrix goes back to the training program. And I can't use her in future matches."

  "I'm aware of the ruling."

  "Can you change it?"

  Maxie leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I could. The tournament is employee-run, but I have the authority to overrule administrative decisions."

  Hope flared in Micah's chest,then died at Maxie's next words.

  "But I won't. Not without cause."

  "Why not?"

  "Because doing so would undermine the very thing you're trying to prove." Maxie's gaze was intense but not unkind. "You want to be seen as legitimate, yes? As someone who earned their place through skill and dedication, not through connections or favoritism?"

  Micah nodded mutely.

  "Then having me intervene now would destroy that. You'd be the trainer who ran to the boss when things got difficult. Every victory afterward would be tainted by questions of whether you deserved it."

  "So I just lose her? After everything we've been through together?"

  "No," Maxie said firmly. "Not necessarily. Listen carefully, Micah. I cannot simply gift you Bellatrix without justification,that would be exactly the favoritism people are accusing you of benefiting from. But if you were to prove yourself, to demonstrate value to Team Magma that exceeds your current position..."

  Understanding dawned slowly. "You could transfer her as a reward. For achievement."

  "Precisely. The tournament provides an opportunity. Win, or even place highly, and I have grounds to move you to a more active department. Field operations, perhaps, or tactical deployment. Positions where having a fully-bonded partner like Bellatrix isn't just beneficial, it's necessary."

  "But I can't use her in the tournament now. I'd have to compete with Donny."

  "Your Rhyhorn is young but not incompetent. And he has something Bellatrix doesn't,raw potential that hasn't been fully tapped." Maxie pulled out a file, slid it across the desk. "I've been watching your training sessions. Donny has improved significantly under Bellatrix's mentorship. He's not tournament-favorite material, but he's capable."

  Micah opened the file, found detailed observations of his training. Times, techniques, progress markers. Kinda creepy but it shows that Maxie really had been paying attention.

  "There's something else," Maxie continued. "If you withdraw now, Bellatrix returns to the training program immediately. But if you continue competing, she remains assigned to you until the tournament concludes. That gives you time."

  "Time for what?"

  "To train Donny. To prove yourself. To give me the justification I need to make Bellatrix officially yours." Maxie's expression softened fractionally. "I understand what you're feeling. The bond between trainer and Pokémon is sacred. I wouldn't ask you to give that up lightly. But I'm also giving you a path forward,difficult, yes, but achievable."

  Micah looked down at Bellatrix, who gazed back with complete trust. Then he thought of Donny, waiting in his quarters, young and eager and ready to prove himself.

  "If I compete with Donny and do well, you can justify transferring Bellatrix to me permanently?"

  "No, but by winning or securing a good showing, I can place you in a department that requires a strong and competent active Pokemon. Thus extending your current Loaner. From there if you prove your competency and skill, a bonus in the form of an ownership transfer, would be reasonable and unquestionable. "

  "And if I don't win or make quarterfinals?"

  Maxie's silence was answer enough.

  Micah closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the decision. Stay and fight with Donny, risk losing if the young Rhyhorn wasn't ready. Or withdraw, keep some dignity, but lose Bellatrix immediately and forever.

  "What's my next match?" he asked quietly.

  Maxie pulled up another file. "In three days starting tomorrow. Your opponent is Marcus Brennan, one of Tabitha's junior operatives. He uses a Numel,Fire and Ground type, well-trained, significant tournament experience."

  "A Numel." Micah's tactical mind was already working. Ground-type moves would be devastating against Donny, whose Rock-type made him vulnerable. Fire moves would be less effective, but still dangerous.

  "It's a difficult matchup," Maxie acknowledged. "Numel's dual typing gives it advantages over your Rhyhorn. But battles aren't won by typing alone. Strategy, training, the bond between trainer and Pokémon,these matter more than raw advantage."

  Micah stood, decision crystallizing. "I need to go. I have a lot of training to do."

  "Micah." Maxie's voice stopped him at the door. "Regardless of outcome, I want you to know,the dedication you've shown, the growth I've witnessed,you're already proving yourself valuable to Team Magma. Don't forget that."

  The words were unexpected, coming from someone like Maxie. Micah nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and left.