The wind whispered through the ancient stone pillars of Maiden's Peak, carrying with it the scent of salt and something darker—a lingering, musty odor like old tombs. The figure of the ghostly maiden loomed over us, her statue cutting through the mist like a judge, cold and unfeeling. Shadows pooled at her feet, swirling unnaturally, as if the entire mountain wanted to devour us whole.
I stood still, one hand in my pocket, the other brushing the sleek fur of Shadow as he sat on my shoulder, indifferent to the ominous atmosphere. The others—Erin, Ash, Misty, Brock, even that damn Team Rocket—stood farther back, eyes locked on the battlefield. They wouldn't intervene. Not that they could, even if they tried.
"Hey, you sure about this?" Ash called, his voice wavering as he glanced toward the shifting form of Gastly hovering in the distance. Its body wasn't solid—constantly morphing, phasing in and out of visibility like a living fog. The mist thickened around it, making it harder to distinguish where the Gastly ended and the landscape began.
I ignored him, my eyes narrowing as my focus snapped back to Alakazam, who stood poised in front of me, spoons raised, its sharp eyes locked onto the ghost-type. Our connection hummed, stronger than any command I could give with words. 𝘗𝘴𝘺𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮.
Alakazam's spoon glowed briefly before it unleashed a rainbow of psychic energy, the beam spiraling forward with precision. But I wasn't surprised when the Gastly vanished into thin air just before the attack landed, leaving only mist behind. It was playing games, as expected.
A faint figure glided through the mist toward Alakazam—a woman, pale and ethereal, her face as cold as death. The maiden. Even from this distance, I could hear Ash's panicked voice cut through the air.
"Don't fall for it! It's an illusion!"
I didn't flinch. Kinesis.
Alakazam flicked its spoon, warping the very space around us. The maiden's figure folded in on itself, collapsing like a paper doll, crumpling and dissolving into the mist with a hiss. But I felt it before I saw it—Gastly, reappearing behind Alakazam, eyes gleaming, mouth stretched into a malicious grin.
"Sludge Bomb!" the Gastly screeched as it hurled a thick, putrid glob of poison directly toward Alakazam. But we were already gone.
A flash of light, and Alakazam blinked out of existence. Teleport. He reappeared several feet away, the poison splattering harmlessly against the stones where he had stood moments before.
Misty, watching from the sidelines, whispered, "Teleport…" She sounded impressed. Of course she did. Everyone always was. But this wasn't about impressing anyone. This was about ending the fight.
The Gastly didn't give up. 𝘗𝘴𝘺𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮.
The moment the thought hit, Alakazam split into several identical copies, surrounding the battlefield. Each one stood perfectly still, eyes cold and unblinking as the spiraling rays of chaotic energy passed through them, leaving Gastly hissing in frustration.
Shadow yawned, his red eyes flicking lazily toward me. "He better do something interesting soon, or I'm going to take a nap," he muttered, his voice slipping into my mind, clear as day. No one else heard it, of course. But he had a point. I had no interest in dragging this out.
Gastly's body dissipated again, merging with the mist as it swirled more aggressively around the statues and temple. The air thickened, pressing down on us as a wave of dark energy exploded outward—Night Shade.
"Reflect," I commanded through my thoughts. Alakazam raised its spoon, and a shimmering barrier formed just in time, absorbing the blast with a heavy, echoing thud. The mist recoiled, pushed back by the pulse of psychic energy.
But Gastly wasn't done yet. Its gaseous form reappeared, eyes narrowed, its voice low and malevolent. Curse. A jagged spike formed in front of it, then, without hesitation, Gastly drove it deep into its own form, inflicting damage on itself as a dark aura coiled around Alakazam, wrapping tighter by the second.
I felt Alakazam's pain but didn't react. Recover.
A soft, golden light bathed Alakazam's body, mending the damage as quickly as it came. Gastly's eyes flickered, frustration building as it darted forward, launching a surprise Sucker Punch.
Psycho Cut.
Before the ghost could land its hit, Alakazam spun, blades of psychic energy slicing through the air. Gastly recoiled, its form distorting as the attacks passed through it. But the damn thing wasn't finished.
Gastly's eyes gleamed, casting a sinister light through the mist. Hypnosis. A swirling beam shot toward Alakazam, aiming to drag him into sleep.
Trick Room.
The air around us shifted, warping reality itself. Time bent, the battlefield distorting under the weight of the move as Gastly's speed faltered. Its once-rapid movements slowed, the advantage slipping through its fingers.
I allowed myself a smirk. Now, it was my turn.
Psyshock.
Alakazam's eyes blazed with intensity as psychic energy slammed into Gastly, striking true this time. The ghost let out a shriek, its body rippling from the impact, barely holding together.
But still, it clung on. One last desperate attempt—a Shadow Ball gathering in its maw, dark and pulsating, ready to fire.
Future Sight.
Gastly didn't see it coming. The moment the Shadow Ball left its mouth, a burst of energy from the future slammed into it from above, cutting the ghost's attack short. Gastly let out a final, defeated wail before its form dissipated completely, melting back into the mist, leaving nothing but silence.
Alakazam stood tall, not a scratch on him.
Shadow stirred lazily on my shoulder. "Finally," he muttered. "I was starting to think this place was a joke."
I couldn't help but agree. But wait I didn't catch it.
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