The wind on Route 17 smelled like fresh rain and cedar bark. Skylar adjusted his scarf as they walked along the cliffside path toward Fuchsia City. The forest on their right rustled softly, while the sea stretched endlessly to their left.
"We should reach the Gym in two days," Misty said, adjusting her pack. "We'll rest by the river tonight, get some sparring in."
Skylar nodded, focused, eyes on the road.
But then he stopped.
So did Misty.
Ahead—blocking the trail—stood a man in a long, ash-gray coat, his back to them. His arms were crossed behind him, hands clasped.
He didn't turn as he spoke.
"Skylar of Sinnoh."
Skylar's body tensed instantly. Misty narrowed her eyes.
The man turned slowly.
He was in his late twenties, with pale skin, deep black hair, and a League insignia on his shoulder—but one stylized with sharp angles and a dark stripe through the center.
Skylar knew that symbol.
Shadow Division.
The League's internal enforcers.
The ones who operated in silence.
"Who are you?" Skylar asked.
The man's voice was level. Unemotional.
"I'm Ace. Regional Field Commander for League Shadow."
Misty stepped forward. "If this is about Lavender Town—"
Ace raised one hand.
"I'm not here because of what you did there."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"I'm here because of what you're becoming."
They moved off the trail to a small clearing near the cliffside. The sea crashed below.
Skylar and Ace stood facing each other while Misty remained at the edge, watching every twitch, every shift in tone.
Ace's coat fluttered in the rising wind.
"You've interfered with events far above your trainer class," he said. "You possess and have used a Darkrai. You've refused to register it with the League, and you continue to travel with it freely."
Skylar didn't blink. "Because the League doesn't understand what's coming."
"We understand more than you think."
"No," Skylar said firmly. "You don't. You didn't stop the Hive. You didn't see the Tower from the inside. You weren't there when it tried to rewrite the minds of children. Darkrai saved them. Fought with them. He chose me."
Ace didn't react.
He simply asked, "Why are you collecting badges?"
Skylar frowned. "To compete in the League. To grow. To prepare for—"
"For war?" Ace interrupted. "You speak like a soldier. Not a trainer."
Skylar didn't respond.
Ace lowered his head slightly. "The League is built on balance. Power must be regulated. And you're moving too fast."
"So what do you want?" Skylar asked. "To threaten me? To take him?"
"No," Ace said. "Not yet."
He pulled a Poké Ball from his belt.
"I want to see it."
Skylar narrowed his eyes. "See what?"
"Whether you're still a trainer…" Ace said, pressing the button, "or already something worse."
Ace sent out a Gallade—tall, sharp-eyed, and cloaked in faint psychic shimmer. It stood calmly, but its blade-arms glinted under the moonlight.
Skylar reached for his belt.
He felt the weight of each Poké Ball.
Then touched the one that pulsed faintly with shadowed aura.
"Come on," he said softly.
Darkrai emerged, floating inches off the ground, silent and steady.
Gallade's stance shifted immediately—alert, focused.
Ace's eyes didn't leave Skylar.
"Begin."
Gallade moved first—Teleport and Psycho Cut in a blinding combo that sliced through the air like a violet beam.
Darkrai didn't dodge.
He melted backward into a wave of shadow, reforming midair behind Gallade.
Dark Void.
The black pulse burst from his hands like a sphere of sleep.
Gallade spun, slicing it in half with a well-timed blade strike—but stumbled slightly as the pressure hit him.
Skylar's voice was quiet but sure.
"Dark Pulse."
Darkrai unleashed a wave of crackling energy that smashed into Gallade's back, sending him sliding across the grass.
Ace didn't flinch.
Gallade stood quickly, eyes glowing.
"Swords Dance."
"Shadow Ball."
The two attacks met midair—Gallade dashed forward through the explosion, blades shining.
Then—
Silence.
Darkrai stopped moving.
Skylar's eyes widened.
Gallade had landed a blow—direct, fast, precise.
Darkrai hovered back, wounded—but still up.
And then…
Darkrai's eye narrowed.
"He will not fall. Not for you."
The aura around Skylar flared—his connection to Darkrai strengthening as his fingers tightened at his sides.
"Dream Eater—finish this."
A black spiral erupted from Darkrai's palm and struck Gallade as he slowed—one instant of hesitation, and it was enough.
Gallade collapsed to one knee.
Then fully to the ground.
Ace silently returned him to his Poké Ball.
The air was still.
Ace stared at Skylar across the wind-blown grass.
"You're strong."
Skylar didn't respond.
Ace stepped forward slowly.
"But strength isn't permission. It's responsibility."
Skylar's jaw tightened. "I know."
Ace stopped a few feet away.
"I'm not here to take Darkrai. Not today."
He slipped the Poké Ball into his coat.
"But you should know this: not all of us in the League agree on how to handle people like you. The vote was close."
Misty took a step forward. "Vote?"
Ace turned slightly. "Some wanted to detain you. Strip your license. Take your Pokémon. Or worse."
Skylar clenched his fist.
"But I've read your record. And I saw it myself in your battle."
Ace met his eyes.
"You're still a trainer."
He turned, coat flicking behind him.
"But if you fall out of balance—if you cross into something else—then I will be the one they send."
And with that, Ace walked back into the forest.
Gone like mist.
Misty joined Skylar, who stared out at the sea.
Darkrai hovered beside him silently.
"You okay?" she asked.
Skylar nodded.
"No badge today," he said.
"But that was more important."