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60.97% Pokémon : An Unexpected Odyssey / Chapter 25: Chapter no.25 Hidden Power?!

Chapter 25: Chapter no.25 Hidden Power?!

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The next day, Austin found himself standing in front of the Pewter City Indoor Climbing Center, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He had spent the night strategizing and sketching out ways to train his Pokémon that didn't rely on battling alone, and this idea had taken root like a stubborn tree. If his team was going to tackle the treacherous caves of Mt. Moon—and whatever Team Rocket nonsense was lurking ahead—they needed to sharpen more than their moves. They needed agility, coordination, and teamwork.

And what better way to simulate rocky, uneven terrain than climbing?

He'd heard about the climbing center in passing from a couple of trainers at the Pokémon Center the other day and made a mental note. Now, standing in front of the glass doors with his team gathered at his feet, he adjusted his cap and took a deep breath as he pushed open the doors, stepping into the cavernous gym.

The first thing that struck him was how massive the space was. Expansive walls stretched high above him, covered in colorful climbing holds that formed intricate routes. Some looked deceptively simple, the kind you'd find on a playground rock wall, while others seemed downright impossible, with overhangs and tiny nubs that practically sneered at gravity. Skylights bathed the room in natural light, and the air smelled faintly of chalk dust. The occasional sound of climbers scaling walls, the slap of hands against holds, and rustling chalk bags filled the space.

"Whoa," Austin breathed, glancing around. "This place is insane."

"Pi...ka..." Pikachu murmured beside him, tilting his head as he gazed up at a climber halfway up a particularly daunting wall. Spearow, with his wing still in a cast, ruffled his feathers irritably, already annoyed at the prospect of being stuck as an observer.

"Don't look at me like that," Austin teased the bird with a smirk. "I didn't put you in the cast. You're here to supervise."

Spearow responded with a sharp squawk.

At the front desk, a young woman with cropped hair and a bright smile greeted him with enthusiasm that was borderline disarming. "Hi! Welcome to Pewter City Indoor Climbing Center. How can I help you today?"

"I'd like to register for climbing classes," Austin said confidently, leaning an arm on the counter like he'd been planning this for weeks—which, in a way, he had. "I heard there's a weekly fee?"

"That's right!" she said, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she brought up the registration screen. "It's 1000 Pokédollars per week. Oh, and you'll need a Flying-type Pokémon for safety reasons."

"Why a Flying-type?" he asked, though he already had a good idea. He figured it would be good to play along and get the details straight.

The woman gestured toward one of the walls, where an older man—a coach, by the looks of it—was scaling the wall with a Pidgeot hovering nearby. The bird's sharp eyes followed his every move, its wings flaring occasionally to keep close to the climber. "Flying-types act as safety monitors," she explained. "If a climber falls or gets stuck, the Pokémon can assist."

"Got it," Austin said, glancing at Spearow. "He might not be happy about it, but I've got a Flying-type."

"Great!" she said brightly. "You're all set, then. Classes start in about an hour. Feel free to check out the facilities and meet the coach if you'd like."

"Sounds good." He gave her a thumbs-up before signaling to his team, who were already inching toward the climbing walls with wide-eyed curiosity. "Alright, guys, let's scope it out."

Austin spent the next hour familiarizing himself with the gym. The walls were categorized by difficulty, with the beginner section on the far left and the expert routes—with their insane overhangs—on the right. He watched the climbers, paying close attention to their techniques and the way their Pokémon assisted them. A group of trainers practiced on a smaller wall meant for Pokémon, which had been designed to mimic natural rocky terrain. It was perfect.

As he made mental notes, the coach from earlier approached him. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with a rugged but approachable demeanor that instantly put Austin at ease.

"You must be the new guy," the coach said, extending a hand. "Name's Cole. First time climbing?"

"Yeah," Austin admitted, shaking his hand. "I'm Austin."

"Good to meet you, Austin." Cole gave his gear a quick once-over before nodding approvingly. "You're all set. Let's get you started on a beginner route."

"Sounds good," Austin said, turning to his Pokémon. "Alright, team, watch and learn. I'm going up first."

Austin's first attempt... did not go as planned.

He reached for a hold that was clearly out of his range, missed by a mile, and ended up swinging wildly from the rope. Spearow squawked indignantly, flapping his good wing to steady the rope, only to get tangled in the process.

From the ground, Pikachu and the others watched with varying degrees of concern. Vee's ears flattened against his head, and his tail flicked nervously. Rattata let out a squeaky laugh that only she found funny, while Pikachu crossed his arms, looking equal parts worried and unimpressed.

"Alright, alright," Austin muttered as he steadied himself. "Let's take it slow this time."

By his second attempt, Austin was starting to find his rhythm. With Cole's guidance, he learned to rely on his legs more than his arms and to plan his moves instead of scrambling aimlessly. As he climbed higher, he felt his confidence grow, the initial fear fading into focus.

When he finally reached the top, he let out a triumphant laugh, holding onto the final hold for a moment before letting Cole lower him back down.

"Nice work," Cole said, clapping him on the back. "You've got potential."

"Thanks," Austin said, grinning. He turned to his team, whose expressions ranged from excited to relieved. That's when an idea struck him.

"Hey, Cole, do you let Pokémon climb too? You know, for training?"

Cole's face lit up. "Absolutely! We've got a whole section for that."

"What do you guys think? Ready to climb?"

The Pokémon buzzed with excitement, their enthusiasm practically contagious—except for Spearow, who glared at everyone with a look that could curdle milk, clearly dreading the extra effort this would undoubtedly require.

-----

The room was quiet now, save for the sound of Austin's slow, steady breaths. After several hours of grueling rock climbing and teamwork exercises with his Pokémon, he barely managed to drag himself to the bed. The moment his body hit the mattress, a deep, exhausted sigh escaped him. The bed felt like heaven—soft and inviting, as though it had been waiting all day just for him. Every muscle in his body ached in that satisfying, post-workout kind of way, like the ache had meaning.

As he stared up at the ceiling, he muttered, "If this bed could marry me, I'd say yes."

Across the room, the Pokémon were gathered in their own little huddle. Pikachu was happily munching on an apple he'd snuck from dinner, while Rattata and Vee seemed to be engaged in some kind of playful competition—Austin couldn't quite tell what it was, but it involved darting around the room, dodging imaginary obstacles. Spearow, however, sat off to the side, feathers fluffed up and his cast still wrapped securely around his wing. He looked about as thrilled as a Murkrow stuck in a sunny field.

Austin turned his head just enough to catch Spearow's glare—the bird's signature mix of judgment and disdain. If looks could talk, this one would be saying: This is all your fault, you human disaster.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Austin said, his voice muffled by the pillow. "But hey, you pulled through. I told you it'd be worth it."

Spearow tilted his head skeptically, but Austin just smirked and reached over to the nightstand. His fingers brushed against the cool surface of the Boulder Badge, and he grabbed it. Holding it up, he studied the badge in the dim light. It gleamed faintly, its rugged, rock-like design a symbol of everything they'd worked for.

"Here," Austin said, leaning forward and gently placing the badge in front of Spearow. "You earned it."

The rest of the team immediately perked up, their heads snapping toward the badge like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Pikachu stopped mid-bite, Rattata froze mid-pounce, and even Vee, who was usually the calmest, looked wide-eyed and curious. They all turned to look at Austin as if to say, Wait, really?

"Come on," Austin said with a grin. "The grumpy bird deserves it. He worked his tail feathers off, literally."

Spearow's sharp eyes narrowed, flicking between Austin and the shiny object on the floor. Slowly, cautiously, he hopped forward, his talons clicking softly against the floor. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out with his beak, lightly tapping the badge.

The reaction was immediate. A soft, grayish aura began to swirl around Spearow, like mist curling through the air. The room seemed to grow just a little quieter, as though holding its breath. The transformation was subtle but undeniable. Spearow's feathers smoothed out, his stance grew more upright and confident, and his eyes gleamed with a sharp, vibrant energy. He let out a low caw, testing the newfound strength coursing through him.

The other Pokémon stared in awe. But then, as the excitement settled, Austin caught the flicker of disappointment in their expressions. Pikachu scratched behind one ear awkwardly, Rattata's tail flicked with a faint pout, and Vee's ears drooped ever so slightly.

Austin sighed, sitting up fully now. "Alright, alright, don't look at me like that. You think I forgot about you guys?" He reached into his bag and pulled out the TM cube Flint had given him. "How about we try out some new moves, huh?"

That was all it took. Pikachu and Rattata practically bounced in excitement, and even Vee's ears perked back up. Spearow, still basking in his aura upgrade, gave them a smug little side-eye as if to say, Good luck topping that.

Austin recalled each Pokémon into their Pokéballs, one by one, and placed the capsules into the TM cube. The device hummed softly, a gentle vibration running through his hands as it activated. A faint glow filled the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

He leaned back, watching in fascination. "Man, TMs are wild," he muttered to himself. He'd always thought they were cool in the games, but seeing them work in real life was something else. It was like the device was transferring a piece of knowledge—an actual, living memory of the move—directly into the Pokémon. The process reminded him of downloading software, only way more sci-fi.

When the cube finally went quiet, Austin opened each Pokéball, releasing his team back into the room. They blinked at him expectantly, eager to see what they'd gained.

Austin grabbed his Pokédex to check. "Alright, let's see what we've got."

He scanned Rattata first. "Hidden Power: Dark," he read aloud. Rattata grinned, her sharp teeth glinting as if she already had ideas for how to use it. "Nice," Austin said with a nod.

Next was Pikachu. "Hidden Power: Grass. Huh. That'll give us some coverage for those pesky Rock-types, buddy." Pikachu puffed out his chest proudly.

Finally, Austin turned to Vee. He paused. "Hidden Power: Normal," he said, frowning slightly. That was weird. Hidden Power: Normal wasn't possible in the games. Something didn't add up.

He decided to experiment. Vee into Flareon, then checked the pokedex. To his surprise, the move shifted—now it was Hidden Power: Fire. His mind raced. He had to test it further. He watched Vee become a Vaporeon, and sure enough, Hidden Power changed again—this time to Hidden Power: Water. Then, it became Hidden Power: Electric when Vee evolved into Jolteon.

What the hell? Hidden Power was adapting to each evolution. This wasn't how it worked in the games, and Austin's mind started spinning with theories. Could it be linked to the elemental affinity of each Eeveelution? Was there something about how the move interacted with the transformation process?

He was just starting to piece together some thoughts when his stomach growled, loud enough to break his concentration. It was almost comical. Here he was, uncovering something that could be a huge breakthrough, and his body was reminding him of more pressing matters.

"Let's eat fast so we can eat again!" he said to no one in particular, a grin spreading across his face.

Food first, theories later.


Chapter 26: Chapter no.26 Mt. Moon

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For two days, Austin had been preparing, but as he sat alone in the cafeteria, poking at his cold plate of eggs and toast, he couldn't ignore the pit of anxiety in his stomach. His fork hovered aimlessly over the plate, stabbing at the same piece of toast over and over. The faint hum of the radio played in the background, the usual morning news filling the air with talk of weather, politics, and random city events. His ears pricked at every mention of Mt. Moon, though.

He was waiting—hoping—for some news. Any news about Team Rocket.

It wasn't just paranoia; it was a pattern. In the anime, in the games, Mt. Moon was where Team Rocket had made their first big move. It wasn't a question of if they'd show up, but when. The thought of running into them made his chest tighten. If something went wrong—if Team Rocket came after him—what would happen to Pikachu? To Vee? To the rest of his team?

He clenched his fist under the table. Just thinking about it made his gut churn.

Beside him, a map of the area lay open, its edges creased and worn from constant folding and unfolding. His finger traced the mountain range's winding paths for the hundredth time. Mt. Moon wasn't just a mountain—it was a sprawling network of caves and tunnels that cut through the rocky terrain, offering a shortcut between Pewter City and Cerulean City. The alternative? Trekking two weeks over harsh mountain paths. For most trainers, the caves were the obvious choice.

But Austin wasn't most trainers.

He had thought about skipping Mt. Moon altogether, taking the longer, safer route. But every time the idea crossed his mind, he imagined Team Rocket ambushing him on the mountain trail instead, and his grip on the fork tightened until it bent under the pressure. He'd prepped for this. He'd battled hard to make his team stronger. He'd trained himself to climb. He'd cooked enough meals to last them two weeks, packed carefully, planned meticulously. And yet, no amount of preparation erased the doubt gnawing at him.

He glanced at the map again, then at the clock on the wall. It was time to execute Plan A.

Plan A was simple: call in a false report to the Pokémon Rangers. Lure them to Mt. Moon under the pretense of an emergency, and let them deal with any Team Rocket presence before he even got there. It was their job, right? Protecting civilians? Handling criminals? This was the smart move—safer, cleaner.

But even with the plan ready, Austin couldn't shake the weight of unease pressing down on him as he approached the phone booth. It was tucked away at the edge of a small park, its faded blue paint chipped and rusted in places. The glass was scratched and fogged with age, making the inside feel cramped and oddly claustrophobic. As he stepped inside, he adjusted the mask on his face—a simple precaution to keep himself anonymous—and took a deep breath.

This had to work.

His hand shook slightly as he dialed the number for the Pewter City Pokémon Rangers. The line clicked, and a pleasant but professional voice answered.

"Pewter City Ranger Station, how can we help you?"

Austin pinched his nose to alter his voice, adding a faint tremble of panic to sell the story. "H-hello? Is this the rangers? Please, I need help!"

"Sir, are you okay? What happened?" The operator's voice immediately shifted to concern.

"I—I was hiking near Mt. Moon when these Pokémon thieves attacked me! They—they're crazy! I barely got away!" He let his voice shake, adding a rasp to make it sound like he'd been running.

"Pokémon thieves? Sir, when did this happen?"

"An hour ago," he lied, gripping the receiver tightly. "I—I just made it to safety on my Rapidash. They—they had these uniforms with a big red 'R' on them." He was laying it on thick, but it had to be convincing.

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, Austin thought the operator believed him. But then her tone changed, growing sharper. "Sir, are you sure about this?"

"Yes!" he insisted, his voice rising slightly. "They're still there! I swear!"

"Sir," the operator interrupted, her voice firm. "We've had a patrol stationed at Mt. Moon for the past week. They check in every hour. Either you're mistaken, or you're playing a very dangerous prank."

Austin's stomach dropped. "I—I'm not—"

But the line cut off before he could say anything else.

He stared at the phone in stunned silence, his heart hammering. A patrol? Every hour? That wasn't what he'd expected. His whole plan relied on Team Rocket being unchecked at Mt. Moon, but if the rangers were actively monitoring the area...

Am I wrong? he thought, his mind racing. Are they not there? Or are they hiding from the rangers entirely?

Stepping out of the booth, the morning air felt cool against his skin, but it did nothing to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. What now?

He paced a few steps, staring down at the sidewalk. Maybe he'd been paranoid this whole time. Maybe Team Rocket wasn't even at Mt. Moon. But the idea of traveling through the tunnels, even with the rangers' presence, still left him uneasy. What if they weren't enough? What if they missed something?

He paused, glancing back at his map. Should he stick to the original plan and take the long, safer route around the mountain? It would cost time, but it would keep him away from the threat. Or should he trust the rangers, push through the caves, and hope for the best?

His gut twisted with indecision. For all the preparation he'd done, all the scenarios he'd planned for, he hadn't anticipated this.

Taking a deep breath, Austin squared his shoulders. Whatever choice he made, it had to be his own. No one else was going to protect him or his team. If he wanted to make it through this journey, he'd have to trust himself—and his Pokémon.

For now, though, he needed to keep moving. One way or another, Mt. Moon awaited.

----

[Mt. Moon]

Arianna stood at the cliff's edge, her sharp gaze tracing the endless stretch of rocky crags and jagged peaks silhouetted against the setting sun. The mountain range sprawled out like a labyrinth of shadows, its winding paths swallowing every trace of light as night fell.

The wind howled through the valley below, carrying the sharp tang of pine and dust. Arianna inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp air. The mountains always did this to her—invigorated her, sharpened her focus. Up here, in this stark and unfiltered clarity, failure seemed intolerable.

"Ma'am."

A grunt's voice broke her reverie. She turned slowly, her crimson hair catching the last golden rays of sunlight. Her piercing gaze landed on the young man standing stiffly behind her, his nervous energy poorly masked by a rigid posture.

"Report."

He snapped to attention. "Captured trainers now total twenty-six. Supplies are running low—food and clean water won't last more than four days unless we start rationing. Some of the prisoners are causing disruptions—one even broke a Pokéball containment unit. Repairs are underway, but—"

"Stop." Her gloved hand rose, and the grunt fell silent mid-sentence, swallowing hard.

Arianna stepped toward him, her boots crunching against the gravel. "You're telling me," she began, her tone icy, "that despite controlling one of the most strategic locations in this region, despite a team of thirty grunts under my leadership, you can't manage something as basic as rations?"

The grunt's mouth opened and closed uselessly. His eyes darted toward his partner, a stocky woman standing nearby, smirking faintly at his predicament.

"You." Arianna's attention snapped to the woman. "Since your colleague has lost the ability to speak, perhaps you'd like to explain why our logistics are failing?"

The woman straightened but didn't lose her edge. "Ma'am, the supply issue stems from the volume of prisoners we're taking. Transporting and holding trainers this far from our bases isn't exactly—"

"Volume of prisoners?" Arianna's voice rose, sharp as a blade. "Are you suggesting we stop taking prisoners? That we allow these meddling trainers to wander off, alert the authorities, and bring the wrath of the Rangers down on us?"

"No, ma'am," the woman replied quickly, her confidence cracking under Arianna's glare.

Arianna studied her for a long moment, letting the weight of silence settle. Finally, she laughed—a sharp, humorless sound.

"Good. Because if I hear about dwindling supplies one more time, I'll test the efficiency of our rations myself—starting with yours." She smiled, the threat hanging in the air.

"Yes, ma'am," the grunt stammered.

"Now leave," Arianna commanded, dismissing them with a flick of her hand. "And take him with you."

The grunts scrambled to obey, the younger one nearly tripping over his own feet as he hurried off. Arianna's smirk returned as another figure emerged from the shadows, his gait lazy and unbothered.

Slate leaned against a support pole, his foxlike face split in a perpetual smirk. His uniform was pristine, his slicked-back hair untouched by the wind. Yet there was an air of mockery in the way he lounged that would've earned any other grunt a reprimand.

"Trouble in paradise, boss?" he drawled.

"Careful, Slate." Her voice was light, but her eyes gleamed with warning. "Your habit of speaking out of turn might get you reassigned to waste disposal."

He chuckled. "Oh, come on. You know you'd miss me. Someone has to point out when you're about to lose your temper."

"I don't lose my temper," Arianna corrected coolly. "I employ precision anger when it's warranted."

"Right. Precision. Like when you smashed that grunt's PokéNav because he stuttered during a report?"

"That was a calculated loss."

Before he could retort, a third grunt ran toward them, tablet in hand and breathless. "Ma'am!"

Arianna's gaze sharpened. "What is it?"

"We've spotted movement in the southern range." He thrust the tablet toward her. The grainy thermal image showed a faint humanoid figure weaving through the terrain.

"They're not using fire or visible light," the grunt continued. "The way they're moving—it's deliberate. Avoiding open areas. Almost as if they're trying not to be seen."

Arianna's lips curled into a predatory smile. A lost hiker wouldn't behave like this. Someone trying to hide, though—that was interesting.

"Have you tracked where they're heading?"

"They've stopped for now. It looks like they've set up camp near the ridge overlooking the west valley."

Her mind raced. A Ranger wouldn't operate this covertly. A random trainer wouldn't have this level of tactical awareness. This was no ordinary trespasser.

"Slate," she said, her voice suddenly sharp with authority.

"Yes, boss?"

"You're in charge until I return."

His smirk faltered. "Wait, you're going personally? For one trainer?"

"I have a feeling about this one," she said, pulling on her gloves. "And I don't entrust interesting opportunities to those less competent."

"Don't forget to send a postcard," Slate quipped, but there was an edge of unease in his tone.

Arianna ignored him, her smile growing. The hunt was on.


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