Chapter 31
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They were going straight home.
After apologizing to Looker and the increasingly stressed members of the International Police, Cynthia had collected her nephew and left Galar as quickly as possible.
She had no intention of giving fate another opportunity.
===
The Dragonite Bus hummed with a low, steady vibration as it carried its passengers through the night sky high above the clouds.
Inside the private cabin, the atmosphere was heavy enough to outweigh the roar of the wind outside.
Cynthia sat perfectly upright, arms folded, her expression composed into the sort of mask that had intimidated Champions, criminals, and legendary Pokémon alike.
Her attention never left Ethan.
Ethan, meanwhile, appeared entirely unconcerned.
He was sprawled across a plush leather seat, absentmindedly scratching Eevee behind the ears. Eevee had melted into a puddle of contentment and seemed completely unaware that its trainer had recently helped expose a regional conspiracy and somehow acquired the friendship of Galar's ancient heroes.
Cynthia's gaze drifted downward.
And stopped.
Two Luxury Balls rested on Ethan's belt.
She could feel the aura coming from them even through the containment fields.
Distinct.
Ancient.
Powerful.
One in particular practically radiated legendary energy.
Cynthia stared at it for several seconds before finally speaking.
"Ethan."
"Hm?"
"Am I going to receive a call from Galar in the future claiming you took a Pokémon you weren't supposed to have?"
"Nope," Ethan said easily, not even looking up from scratching Eevee's chin. "One hundred percent legally mine. No regional government can lay a claim to her."
"Ethan," she said, her voice dropping to a tense, whisper that barely carried over the low hum of the Dragonite Bus. "I have studied the historical archives of nearly every region on the planet. I know the myths of Sinnoh, the lore of Unova, the hidden texts of Hoenn. But Galar..." She trailed off, her brow furrowing. "Galar's history is a black hole. The old royal family scrubbed their records centuries ago. There are no tapestries of those Pokémon. No ancient poems, no database entries, no names."
She looked from the Pokéballs back up to Ethan's completely relaxed face.
"When I stood in front of Leon's house and watched you come riding in on Sif," Cynthia continued quietly, "it felt like I was staring down Kyurem again."
Her eyes dropped briefly to the Luxury Ball.
"There was that same feeling. That same pressure. The certainty that if things went wrong..." She shook her head. "I don't think most people understand how terrifying powerful legendary Pokémon actually are."
Ethan was silent for several seconds.
Then he reached down and tapped the Luxury Ball lightly.
"Sif wouldn't hurt anybody."
"That's not what I am worried about, did you take a legendary pokemon from Galar?"
"No," Ethan said smoothly. "I didn't take a legendary Pokémon from Galar."
It wasn't a lie. Not technically. As far as the Galar region, its government, its history, and its soil were concerned, they didn't own the creature sitting on his belt. The past royal family had erased every trace of her existence, burying her name and her legacy so deeply that the modern world didn't even know she existed. You couldn't steal a myth that the region itself had discarded.
But more importantly, the system interface of his Pokémon GO account didn't recognize Galar's property laws. Sif was generated from his data, bound to his account, and registered directly to him. She belonged to him the moment the digital encounter locked in. He hadn't stolen anything from the Slumbering Weald; he had simply claimed what the system had unlocked for him.
Cynthia sighed in relief.
"So? Can we stop in Alola?" Ethan asks
Cynthia's sigh of relief cut short so abruptly she nearly choked on her next breath.
She froze, her head snapping back toward him. The exhaustion that had briefly begun to drain from her shoulders rushed right back in, settling over her like a heavy cloak.
"Alola?" she repeated, her voice pitching up just a fraction higher than her usual calm, collected Champion register. "Ethan, we are currently flying over the ocean in a high-speed corporate transit vehicle specifically routed for Sinnoh. We just fled an active, high-level Interpol investigation in Galar where you handed the lead investigator a metaphorical live grenade."
"Come on, Aunt Cynthia, it's a quick stop," Ethan bargained easily, leaning forward. "The beaches are great, the weather is fantastic, and honestly, you look like you could really use a vacation after all that Galar stress. Think of the Malasadas!"
Eevee let out a well-timed, enthusiastic "Vee!" from his lap, raising a paw in solidarity.
Cynthia pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tightly as she tried to map out the sheer logistical madness of what her nephew was suggesting. "We are not going to Alola, Ethan. We are going to your Great-Grandmother Carolina's house, where you are going to sit down, stay put, and help me figure out exactly how we are going to integrate two ancient, undocumented, high-pressure entities into a quiet Sinnoh town without attracting the attention of the entire international League."
She opened one eye, giving him a pointed, non-negotiable glare.
"No tropical detours. No island challenges. We are going straight home.
After apologizing to Looker and the increasingly stressed members of the International Police, Cynthia had collected her nephew and left Galar as quickly as possible.
She had no intention of giving fate another opportunity.
===
The Dragonite Bus hummed with a low, steady vibration as it carried its passengers through the night sky high above the clouds.
Inside the private cabin, the atmosphere was heavy enough to outweigh the roar of the wind outside.
Cynthia sat perfectly upright, arms folded, her expression composed into the sort of mask that had intimidated Champions, criminals, and legendary Pokémon alike.
Her attention never left Ethan.
Ethan, meanwhile, appeared entirely unconcerned.
He was sprawled across a plush leather seat, absentmindedly scratching Eevee behind the ears. Eevee had melted into a puddle of contentment and seemed completely unaware that its trainer had recently helped expose a regional conspiracy and somehow acquired the friendship of Galar's ancient heroes.
Cynthia's gaze drifted downward.
And stopped.
Two Luxury Balls rested on Ethan's belt.
She could feel the aura coming from them even through the containment fields.
Distinct.
Ancient.
Powerful.
One in particular practically radiated legendary energy.
Cynthia stared at it for several seconds before finally speaking.
"Ethan."
"Hm?"
"Am I going to receive a call from Galar in the future claiming you took a Pokémon you weren't supposed to have?"
"Nope," Ethan said easily, not even looking up from scratching Eevee's chin. "One hundred percent legally mine. No regional government can lay a claim to her."
"Ethan," she said, her voice dropping to a tense, whisper that barely carried over the low hum of the Dragonite Bus. "I have studied the historical archives of nearly every region on the planet. I know the myths of Sinnoh, the lore of Unova, the hidden texts of Hoenn. But Galar..." She trailed off, her brow furrowing. "Galar's history is a black hole. The old royal family scrubbed their records centuries ago. There are no tapestries of those Pokémon. No ancient poems, no database entries, no names."
She looked from the Pokéballs back up to Ethan's completely relaxed face.
"When I stood in front of Leon's house and watched you come riding in on Sif," Cynthia continued quietly, "it felt like I was staring down Kyurem again."
Her eyes dropped briefly to the Luxury Ball.
"There was that same feeling. That same pressure. The certainty that if things went wrong..." She shook her head. "I don't think most people understand how terrifying powerful legendary Pokémon actually are."
Ethan was silent for several seconds.
Then he reached down and tapped the Luxury Ball lightly.
"Sif wouldn't hurt anybody."
"That's not what I am worried about, did you take a legendary pokemon from Galar?"
"No," Ethan said smoothly. "I didn't take a legendary Pokémon from Galar."
It wasn't a lie. Not technically. As far as the Galar region, its government, its history, and its soil were concerned, they didn't own the creature sitting on his belt. The past royal family had erased every trace of her existence, burying her name and her legacy so deeply that the modern world didn't even know she existed. You couldn't steal a myth that the region itself had discarded.
But more importantly, the system interface of his Pokémon GO account didn't recognize Galar's property laws. Sif was generated from his data, bound to his account, and registered directly to him. She belonged to him the moment the digital encounter locked in. He hadn't stolen anything from the Slumbering Weald; he had simply claimed what the system had unlocked for him.
Cynthia sighed in relief.
"So? Can we stop in Alola?" Ethan asks
Cynthia's sigh of relief cut short so abruptly she nearly choked on her next breath.
She froze, her head snapping back toward him. The exhaustion that had briefly begun to drain from her shoulders rushed right back in, settling over her like a heavy cloak.
"Alola?" she repeated, her voice pitching up just a fraction higher than her usual calm, collected Champion register. "Ethan, we are currently flying over the ocean in a high-speed corporate transit vehicle specifically routed for Sinnoh. We just fled an active, high-level Interpol investigation in Galar where you handed the lead investigator a metaphorical live grenade."
"Come on, Aunt Cynthia, it's a quick stop," Ethan bargained easily, leaning forward. "The beaches are great, the weather is fantastic, and honestly, you look like you could really use a vacation after all that Galar stress. Think of the Malasadas!"
Eevee let out a well-timed, enthusiastic "Vee!" from his lap, raising a paw in solidarity.
Cynthia pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tightly as she tried to map out the sheer logistical madness of what her nephew was suggesting. "We are not going to Alola, Ethan. We are going to your Great-Grandmother Carolina's house, where you are going to sit down, stay put, and help me figure out exactly how we are going to integrate two ancient, undocumented, high-pressure entities into a quiet Sinnoh town without attracting the attention of the entire international League."
She opened one eye, giving him a pointed, non-negotiable glare.
"No tropical detours. No island challenges. We are going straight home.