The air was still.
No more screams. No more flickering glyphs. No psychic tremors.
Just the quiet crackling of embered stone… and the shallow breathing of the living.
Skylar sat on his knees, one hand resting on Charizard's massive shoulder. The dragon was slumped but awake, wings curled protectively around his body. His chest still bled from the Hive's attack, but the flame on his tail burned strong and steady.
Misty knelt beside Arcanine, her jacket folded beneath his head. He was unconscious, chest rising and falling slowly. One paw twitched in his sleep. His fur was singed black, and small wounds lined his ribs where the Hive's shadow claws had lashed across him.
"Stupid dog," Misty whispered gently. "You never stop protecting him."
Gardevoir limped toward them, her dress-like body scorched and torn, but her eyes steady. She sat beside Charizard in silence and reached out, pressing her hand to his claw.
Skylar blinked slowly.
He wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting there.
Minutes?
Hours?
It didn't matter.
The Hive was gone.
But the cost…
Frogadier sat with Starmie near the shallows, where the two golden Magikarp floated in silence. They hadn't fought—but they had witnessed everything.
Milotic coiled weakly in the corner of the chamber, her long body scarred, but her expression peaceful. She flicked her tail in greeting when Misty looked her way.
"Everyone's alive," Misty said softly, her voice hoarse.
Skylar nodded, still unable to speak.
Eventually, Skylar reached to his belt.
Pressed the button.
Scyther's Poké Ball opened.
The mantis appeared in a faint glow of red and collapsed instantly into his trainer's arms.
Still breathing.
Still battered.
But awake.
Skylar choked down a sob.
"You idiot," he whispered again, hugging the bladed Pokémon against his chest. "You saved him."
Scyther didn't speak—but his eyes locked with Charizard's.
They didn't need words.
They'd both nearly died for the other.
And they'd both returned.
Later, the group moved slowly through the ruined chamber, gathering what they could. Misty found the remains of the Hive's broken core—now just crystallized fragments scattered across the stone.
She crouched beside it, hand hovering above the black shards.
"No pulsing," she said. "No energy. It's… dead."
Skylar joined her, kneeling. "Are we sure it was the only one?"
"I don't know," Misty said honestly. "But if there are more... at least they'll know we can fight back."
They were quiet for a moment.
Then Misty leaned her head lightly against his shoulder.
"Do you think we changed anything?"
Skylar turned his head slightly.
"I think we changed ourselves."
They left the cavern slowly, each step aching. Charizard flew only for a few seconds at a time. Arcanine was carried for part of the way, then walked on his own, leaning on Frogadier and Gardevoir.
When they reached the surface of Lavender Town again, the sun was rising.
The fog was gone.
For the first time since they arrived, the town was clear.
Nurse Joy ran out from the Pokémon Center, followed by townsfolk—some in tears, others just stunned into silence at the sight of the battle-worn team emerging from beneath the Tower.
Misty gave them a weak wave.
"They're safe," she said softly.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then the clapping began.
Not loud.
Not showy.
Just grateful.
Human.
Inside the Center, Joy worked nonstop with Skylar and Misty to tend to each of the Pokémon—Arcanine first, then Scyther, then the others.
Charizard lay outside in the open grass under the sun, wings stretched out, eyes half-closed as he recovered in silence. Skylar sat beside him, dozing against his warm side.
At one point, Misty appeared with two mugs of tea.
She handed him one and sat beside him without a word.
Together, they watched the morning light filter through the trees.
No words.
Just peace.
For the first time in days.
Later, as the others slept, Skylar pulled out his notebook.
The one where he tracked dreams.
Powers.
Destiny.
He opened to a new page and wrote a single line.
Scyther jumped first.
Then below it:
Charizard finished it.
He paused.
Then wrote:
But we're all still standing.
He closed the notebook.
Looked to the sky.
And whispered:
"We're not done."