The trail they'd carved that morning was still fresh.
Broken branches, gouged dirt, the faint ozone scent where Luxio's static had bled into the air.
Orion adjusted his pack and glanced once at the clearing they'd left behind.
No goodbyes.
Just time moving forward.
He recalled Grotle and Tyrunt in two quick flashes.
Luxio stayed loose by his side, padding through the thinning forest with a lazy, predatory gait.
The city walls of Eterna rose ahead—blunt and uncaring, buzzing with checkpoint scanners and scheduled life.
Security didn't flinch as they passed.
Trainer ID matched. Single active Pokémon. No alarms.
A door sighed open, and they walked through.
Eterna swallowed them like it always did.
The streets pulsed.
Trainers weaving between half-shouted market stalls. Delivery drones slicing tight lines through the air. The smell of hot stone and cheap food and ambition thick enough to bite.
Luxio ghosted close to Orion's side without needing to be told.
The Trainer Hub crouched ahead, squat and ugly.
Orion peeled off toward the public bulletin boards without slowing, ignoring the neon flash of tournament ads and sponsor bait.
The real information was tucked low, almost an afterthought.
Move Tutor Listings:
Pokémon Move Cost
Grotle Leech Seed 6,500₽
Grotle Synthesis 7,200₽
Luxio Fire Fang 7,800₽
Tyrunt Rock Slide 9,000₽
Exactly what he expected.
No miracles.
No easy upgrades.
He thumbed through the scheduler fast.
Leech Seed tonight. Fire Fang and Rock Slide tomorrow.
Lock it in. Move on.
He turned—and almost walked straight into the knot of younger trainers half-pretending not to stare at Luxio.
One of them broke off—a boy, maybe fourteen, thin under an oversized jacket, Poké Ball belt slung awkwardly across his chest.
"Hey!" the kid called, hurrying up. "Is that a shiny Luxio?"
Orion kept walking.
"Congratulations," he said flatly. "You can see colors."
The kid stumbled alongside him, undeterred.
"Battle?" he blurted out. "My Luxio against yours? Just to, y'know, see if shinies are really stronger?"
Luxio flicked an ear back toward Orion, half-bored, half-offended.
Orion slowed his pace enough to glance at the kid properly.
"Badges?"
The boy blinked. "Huh?"
"How many badges do you have?" Orion repeated.
The kid's face lit up with pride. "One! I got it here in Eterna!"
Orion nodded once.
"Two," he said. "Standard stakes. Thousand on the line. No free sparring."
The kid hesitated—then squared his shoulders.
"Deal."
Orion jerked his chin toward a cracked side lot across the street.
"Over there."
The lot was a patchwork of cracked concrete and faded paint lines.
Trash bins. Scattered gravel.
Good enough.
The kid fumbled his Poké Ball free and released his Luxio—a standard coat, leaner and a little too jumpy.
Orion didn't bother with ceremony.
"Go."
Luxio padded forward, tail cutting lazy arcs through the dust.
The kid shouted first, voice cracking:
"Spark!"
Predictable.
Orion waited.
Timing mattered more than shouting orders.
"Left dodge. Counter Spark."
Luxio dipped smoothly aside, letting the enemy Spark crackle past, and responded with a tight, snapping Spark of his own that caught the standard Luxio square across the ribs.
The kid's Luxio yelped and stumbled.
"Close in. Bite, shoulder," Orion called, sharp.
Luxio pounced—jaws flashing—clamping onto the enemy's leading shoulder and dragging him off balance.
The kid panicked, screaming half-formed orders.
Too slow.
"Tail grab. Slam," Orion snapped.
Luxio shifted, teeth releasing, jaws snapping down onto the other Luxio's tail.
A brutal spin.
The enemy Luxio slammed into the pavement spine-first with a sickening crunch of impact.
Not enough to kill.
Enough to end it.
The kid's Luxio lay stunned, sparks bleeding weakly off his coat.
Fight over.
The boy muttered something bitter and recalled his Luxio fast, cheeks burning.
He dug into his jacket and shoved a crumpled 1,000₽ note into Orion's hand without meeting his eyes.
Orion folded it into his inner jacket pocket without a word.
"Call it tuition," he muttered.
The kid mumbled thanks—or something close to it—and scurried off into the crowd.
Orion watched him go.
That Luxio hadn't been a fighter.
Sharp reactions, sure.
But trained like a pet, not a partner.
Badge or no badge, the kid wasn't walking a real journey.
Not yet.
Luxio trotted back over, brushing Orion's knee with his flank.
"Fast enough," Orion said, ruffling his fur. "But you moved too early. Next time, wait for the opening before you show your teeth."
Luxio huffed but didn't argue.
Good
Orion slung his pack higher on his shoulder.
"First Move Tutor session's tonight," he muttered. "Better get used to working for it."
Luxio fell into step without needing to be called.
The city noise pressed back in.
Trainers arguing over battle points. Vendors screaming last-minute deals nobody needed. Courier bikes slicing overhead.
Orion let it all blur past.