A personality that feared loneliness.
A Grass-type.
Small in stature, yet harboring unimaginable power.
Most likely a physical attacker—an overwhelmingly strong one.
In just a short span of ti, Cynthia had already analyzed the essentials of Ogerpon.
If a Pokémon like this were truly the savage, man-eating demon described in Kitakami's legends, Cynthia could only conclude:
"The people of Kitakami must all be blind."
"I will take responsibility for this matter in the na of the Sinnoh Champion."
Cynthia stepped forward and gently patted Ogerpon's head.
The little Pokémon looked up, eyes sparkling with curiosity—and a hint of nervousness.
"What an adorable child."
Cynthia possessed a natural aura that soothed both humans and Pokémon.
After only a brief interaction, Ogerpon and the others no longer resisted her touch.
Of course, their favorite was still Sora.
Cynthia?
She ranked sowhere around "a respected relative visiting the house."
A good child would naturally be polite.
"Thank you very much, Miss Cynthia."
"Please, call Shirona."
She removed her sunglasses, revealing a bright, confident smile.
"Then could you tell more about this child's story?"
Her eyes were filled with curiosity.
She already understood Ogerpon's background—but what truly fascinated her was the small figure floating in the air.
Victini.
The Victory Pokémon.
Legend said that anyone who gained its power would never lose.
Cynthia had no personal obsession with the idea of guaranteed victory.
To her, being the Sinnoh Champion was almost a side job.
Her true profession was scholar.
If not for the responsibility of protecting Sinnoh, she would likely have relinquished the Champion title long ago and traveled the world full-ti, excavating ancient myths and forgotten histories.
"Miss Shirona, have you heard of Eindoak?"
"The city in Unova?"
Of course she knew it.
The legend of Victini originated there.
"You actually found Victini there!"
Before seeing Victini with her own eyes, Cynthia had regarded the tale of the Victory Pokémon much like the legends of Kitakami's oni—possibly fabricated folklore designed to attract visitors.
But now Victini stood before her.
And Sora had ntioned Eindoak directly.
That ant the legends of the Black and White Dragons might also be real.
Though Cynthia specialized in Sinnoh mythology, she held equal interest in the myths of other regions.
"Tell everything," she said eagerly.
If earlier Sora had invited her for ice cream to build rapport, now Cynthia was the one considering inviting him to dinner—so she could thoroughly explore the lost legends he seed to know so much about.
Sora welcod that possibility wholeheartedly.
He wanted nothing more than opportunities to deepen their connection.
After all—this was Cynthia.
For Pokémon fans, admiration for her bordered on universal.
So Sora recounted the story of how he t Victini in Eindoak, along with the local myths of the twin dragons.
The information he shared went far beyond what Cynthia had uncovered on her own.
For example:
The nas of the dragons: Reshiram and Zekrom
What each represented
The ideological clash between Truth and Ideals
These truths had long been buried in history.
Without the dragons awakening, modern researchers might spend decades chasing fragnts.
Yet now, through Sora, Cynthia was hearing sothing astonishingly close to the original narrative.
"Black and white… two heroes… the collision of truth and ideals."
Cynthia sighed softly, deeply moved.
Then she began to wonder:
If she were the hero in that story, what would she choose?
Truth?
Or unwavering devotion to ideals?
"Many people desire the power of the Black and White Dragons," Sora said.
"To be honest, so do I."
He had no intention of presenting himself as a saint free of ambition.
He was a trainer.
Of course he wanted powerful Pokémon.
"However, I stayed in Eindoak for a long ti and still failed to earn their recognition."
That was the frustrating part.
According to legend, the dragons' stone forms slept beneath the city.
But finding them wasn't enough.
One had to be guided by the will of the dragons themselves.
Clearly, Sora lacked that particular destiny.
"Did that disappoint you?" Cynthia asked.
"A little," he admitted.
"But only a little."
He ant it.
If fate grants it, I accept.
If fate denies it, I move on.
If he had obtained Reshiram or Zekrom, his power would have skyrocketed overnight.
But reality was what it was.
He hadn't received that once-in-a-lifeti opportunity.
"Actually," Sora added with a faint smile,
"I'm also a bit relieved."
"Those dragons choose heroes ant to save nations."
"That's a heavy burden."
You couldn't take the power without accepting the responsibility.
If he had been chosen, he would be obligated to walk the path of truth or ideals—to shoulder the fate of an entire region.
And frankly, Sora didn't possess that kind of self-sacrificing spirit.
Compared to the twin dragons, he found another option more appealing:
Kyurem.
No destiny.
No ideology.
No moral crusade.
Just strength.
Defeat it in battle, prove your worth, and claim it.
Losing Kyurem wouldn't destabilize Unova.
A legendary without political baggage—that was the kind Sora preferred.
Reshiram and Zekrom might not choose him.
But truth be told—
He wasn't exactly chasing them either.
After that, the conversation continued, drifting across regions and topics.
Sora never pretended to be an oracle.
Whenever myths arose, he spoke carefully—leaving room for ambiguity and deliberately avoiding certain key details.
Precognition was an advantage.
He wasn't about to squander it just to impress soone.
Winning Cynthia's heart wouldn't co from flattery or blind devotion.
If a man lacked strength—real strength—why would soone like her take notice?
Sora understood his position clearly.
For now, his goal was simple:
Leave a lasting impression.
Everything else could wait for the future.
And so the two of them chatted about distant lands and ancient stories.
Cynthia shared many of her own travel experiences—rare discoveries, unusual ruins, forgotten folklore.
For Sora, the exchange broadened his perspective trendously.
In that mont, the eting was no longer just networking.
It had beco sothing closer to mutual respect between explorers of the sa vast world.
—------------------------------
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