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"Too fast! Zilin's Crobat has completely overwheld Lanny's Trevenant," Audrey's voice carried through the stadium broadcast, tinged with surprise.
"True, type advantage played a role," Professor Ashford added gravely, "but the power gap between them was still undeniable. Lanny's on the back foot from the start let's see how he adapts."
The caras cut to the luxury box at the heart of the stands.
Chairman Damalanth stroked his long white beard with a chuckle. "If my eyes aren't mistaken, that Crobat must be a descendant of yours, Nock?"
Across from him, Nock, the forr Poison Elite Four and Zilin's father, allowed the faintest smile to crease his usually cold features. "Sharp as ever, Chairman. Yes, it's from my own Crobat's line. But even I didn't expect my daughter to raise it this well."
Pride radiated in his words, though his tone remained asured.
---
On the battlefield, the duel only grew fiercer. One after another, each Trainer's carefully trained Pokémon entered the fray.
The contrast could not have been sharper:
Zilin, heiress of a League powerhouse, was raised on resources and expectation.
Lanny, hardened by years of experience, yet forced to rely on the covert support of a shadow organization.
For a round of sixteen match, the level of play was far beyond what anyone expected. The crowd, drawn in by the intensity, erupted in waves of applause and gasps.
Flas roared, turning the air into a furnace. Lanny's Typhlosion snarled, eyes blazing red with fury, the fiery mantle around its neck flaring higher than ever.
Opposite it, Zilin's Nidoking stood like a fortress, pale violet muscles bulging beneath armored plates, its triangular eyes locked with ruthless intent.
Both sides gathered power. The air itself trembled. The stadium, monts ago deafening, hushed in collective awe.
Everyone knew a clash of finishing moves was imminent.
"Burn it all—Overheat!" Lanny roared.
"Hyper Beam!" Zilin countered.
Typhlosion's body ignited, red-hot flas engulfing it until it resembled a teor crashing from the heavens.
Nidoking's chest swelled, its massive jaws opening wide as a blinding beam of destructive light lanced outward.
The two forces collided with earth-shattering fury.
BOOOOM!
White-hot brilliance consud the field, dust and smoke surging outward like a detonation. The shockwave rattled the entire arena, silencing even the loudest fans.
For long seconds, nothing could be seen. Then, as the haze cleared—
"Both Nidoking and Typhlosion are unable to battle! It's a double knockout!"
The referee's voice cracked through the silence.
---
Montum
Zilin's athyst eyes narrowed. This had been harder than she expected. She had assud she could sweep through with ease, but Lanny's Typhlosion had pushed her to a draw.
This was only her fourth Pokémon. For Lanny, it had been his fifth. He was down to his last partner.
She exhaled slowly. Victory was already in her grasp.
From her pre-match research, she knew Typhlosion was Lanny's ace his strongest Pokémon. And now it was gone.
Her own trump card hadn't even touched the field yet.
This match is mine.
---
Back in the VIP booth, Nock swirled his wine glass lazily, confidence plain on his face. He already knew how this would end. Soon, when Zilin lifted the trophy, he could finally hand over his Gym and retire in peace.
Beside him, Damalanth tapped instructions into his phone. Lanny's performance, though dood, had impressed him. Perhaps this "grassroots" Trainer could be drawn into the League's ranks.
---
At the entrance to the stands, another figure observed quietly beneath a cap and mask Nolan, eldest son of the Whiteoak family of Kalos, and a contender for the crown himself.
For the Whiteoaks, nothing short of the championship would do. In his eyes, only one person here threatened that path: Zilin.
Still, he sighed softly.
Lanny had talent his training thods, his tactical sense, all well above average. But fate had dealt him the worst possible draw.
Against anyone else, he could have reached the semifinals. Maybe even the podium.
---
On the field, Lanny recalled his fallen Typhlosion with care, murmuring a word of thanks before clipping the ball back onto his belt.
He exhaled, long and heavy.
Then, with deliberate calm, he drew his final Poké Ball a black and yellow capsule.
The crowd held its breath.
This was it. His last hope.
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