The morning after Skylar's victory at the Fuchsia Gym, he and Misty stood at the weathered entrance of the Safari Zone—a sprawling reserve of wild terrain, swamps, cliffs, rivers, and dense vegetation.
"This isn't just for fun," Skylar said as he checked his PokéBalls.
"I know," Misty replied, stretching. "You've got six Pokémon. I've got five. If we're going to face the rest of the Gyms, the League… and whatever else comes, we need backup."
"And we need partners that choose us."
The ranger at the gate handed them their temporary capture bracelets—devices tuned to safely store wild Pokémon caught within the zone until approved for permanent registration.
"No battles," he reminded. "Use bait, strategy, or bond. Injuring Pokémon inside is strictly forbidden."
Skylar nodded.
"I know the rules."
Misty winked. "Let's hunt."
They split up near the branching trails—Misty taking the river path, Skylar heading toward the rocky highlands.
The Safari Zone felt ancient. Untamed. Every sound carried weight.
Bird Pokémon darted overhead. Grass shifted without warning. And every now and then, Skylar spotted shapes watching from the brush.
He'd grown used to tension.
But even this place held something deeper than wilderness.
Misty's Path – Riverbank, East Sector
Following the trail of bubbling streams and reed-filled pools, Misty moved with quiet confidence. She crouched beside the water, scanning for movement.
Suddenly—ripples.
She looked up.
And locked eyes with a Squirtle.
It stood on a rock in the middle of the stream, back turned, clearly fishing with a small stick and vine contraption.
"…Are you using a trap?" she whispered.
The Squirtle glanced over its shoulder, narrowed its eyes…
…and smirked.
It leapt into the water with a flip.
Misty blinked.
"I need that Squirtle."
Over the next fifteen minutes, she trailed the crafty water-type—watching it outsmart a pair of aggressive Psyduck, outswim a Carvanha, and steal berries from under a sleeping Lombre.
She tossed a lure orb forward.
The Squirtle noticed.
Paused.
Then picked it up—examining it.
She smiled and knelt. "Come with me. We'll make a team no one will see coming."
The Squirtle looked at her again.
Then grinned.
And pressed the orb to its shell.
Captured.
Skylar's Path – Highland Cliffs
Skylar moved cautiously through the rising stone paths of the Safari's north sector.
The wind shifted.
And then he heard it:
Voices.
Sharp. Laughing.
Wrong.
He dropped low and crawled up beside a thick bush, peering over a ledge.
Below, hidden in a dug-out clearing—
A group of four men in dark jackets, loading steel cages into the back of a reinforced ATV.
Inside one cage—
Skylar's heart stopped.
A Riolu.
Eyes glowing faintly.
Body weak, bruised.
Aura flickering.
Skylar reached for his PokéGear—but stopped.
The signal was dead.
Too deep in the cliffs.
He watched as one of the hunters slapped the cage.
"Boss said we bring this one back intact. It's rare. Valuable."
"You see how it fought?" another said. "Almost broke Reaper's arm. Worth every credit."
Skylar's blood burned.
He stepped out from cover.
Calm.
Lethal.
"That Riolu doesn't belong to you."
The hunters spun, startled.
One reached for his belt.
"You lost, kid?"
Skylar's fingers hovered over Charizard's PokéBall.
"No. But you're about to be."