The river continued its indifferent rush over the stones, a steady white noise that helped drown out the persistent ringing in my ears.
I stayed back, my spine pressed against the lightning-scarred bark of an ancient cedar. My right hand remained on the hilt of Kishin.
The Aegislash was silent, but I could feel the low-frequency vibration of his spectral eye scanning the treeline. He was restless; the air in this century was too sweet, lacking the sharp, metallic tang of the Distortion World.
Across the clearing, Ash and Dawn were making their usual racket.
"I'm telling you, Pikachu and I are ready for anything!" Ash shouted, punching a fist at the sky while his Pikachu gave an enthusiastic "Pika-pika!"
Dawn laughed, adjusting her hat with a confident smirk. "No way, Ash! My Piplup and I have been practicing our Contest moves all morning. We're the ones who are ready!"
I ignored the noise and kept my gaze on Brock. He was different from the others. He moved with a deliberate, grounded economy that reminded me of the Medical Corps back in Jubilife.
Those were men who knew a second's hesitation was the difference between a closed wound and a burial detail. Right now, his brow was furrowed in total concentration.
"Almost there, guys," Brock muttered, his voice steady and calm—the hallmark of a true breeder. "Just a little more. You can do it!"
Between his calloused hands, the Egg was pulsing with a deep, internal thrum of white light that made the shadows of the forest dance. I felt the Rift-Eye on my chest give a sympathetic, icy twitch beneath my bandages.
The void within me was recognizing a sudden, violent surge of creation.
"It's hatching!" Dawn squealed, jumping to her feet.
I stood up, the dry needles crunching beneath my boots as I moved toward the circle. I kept my distance like a shadow at the edge of their light, but I couldn't look away.
The shell fractured with a sound like snapping winter ice. A final, blinding flare of white energy erupted, and as the spots cleared from my eyes, a Happiny sat amidst the fragments.
She was a tiny, rounded puff of pink clutching Brock's hand to her chest as if it were her own heart. She looked up, blinking against the sun, before letting out a soft, melodic chirp.
"Wow! A Happiny!" Ash exclaimed, leaning in way too close. "She's awesome!"
"She's so cute!" Dawn added, clasping her hands together. "Look at her little ponytail!"
I looked at the hatchling and felt the tension in my shoulders ease for the first time in weeks. I had a profound respect for the Chansey line.
In the old world, Blissey weren't just Pokémon; they were a mobile sanctuary. To see the start of that journey in this tiny, fragile pink spark felt like a rare gift from the Almighty Sinnoh.
But the joy was short-lived. The tiny Pokémon looked down at her empty arms and began to wail. It was a shrill, heartbreaking sound—the instinctual grief of a Happiny born without a weight to carry.
She scrambled around the grass, her tiny hands grasping at air, searching for something she was meant to protect.
"Oh no, what's wrong?" Dawn asked, her voice panicking.
"She needs a stone," Brock said, his brow furrowed as he scanned the riverbank for a suitable pebble. "She won't stop crying until she has something to hold."
The group scrambled, offering her smooth river silt and jagged bits of quartz. She slapped them away with a tearful, indignant screech.
None of them were right. None of them had the right weight, shape, or size.
I sighed, the sound lost in the hatchling's cries. I reached into the weathered, salt-stained satchel at my hip. My fingers brushed past iron chunks and Tumblestones until they found a smooth, perfectly spherical milk-white stone.
I had kept it since the Coronet Highlands, an Oval Stone often used by the Medical Corps for this very same purpose.
I walked across the clearing, my boots clunking with a heavy finality that made the others go quiet. I didn't say a word as I knelt in front of the sobbing pink puff.
"Enough," I said, my voice low but commanding.
The Happiny hiccuped, her tear-streaked eyes locking onto mine. I held out the stone in my open palm. It was heavier than any river pebble, its smooth surface illuminating in the sun—a true gift from the earth.
"A medic cannot cry, it is their duty to put on a brave face, and bear the mental burden. All to protect their patients." I told her.
"Take it. It's seen more history than this entire forest." The Happiny reached out, her tiny hands trembling as she touched the cool, smooth surface.
The moment her fingers closed around the stone, the crying stopped. She pulled it to her chest, tucked it into her pouch-like flap of skin, and let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief.
She looked at Ash and then at Dawn before her gaze drifted past them, locking onto me. She didn't flinch.
Instead, she let out a delighted squeal and scrambled toward me, arms reaching upward.
Brock laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Well, what do you know? I think she's taken a liking to you, Corvin. Happiny are very sensitive to people's feelings. She must think you're a big, strong guardian."
I didn't answer. I reached out a gloved finger and the Happiny grabbed it with a strength that nearly pulled me off balance. I blinked in surprise. This wasn't the soft grip of a newborn; it was the iron-clad hold of a creature built to endure.
"You have the hands of a warrior," I muttered, my voice losing its usual soldier's rasp. "And the heart of a guardian. Don't let this world make you soft, little one."
The peace was shattered by a mechanical scream. A giant metal claw descended from a Meowth-shaped balloon.
"Prepare for trouble!"
"And make it double!"
Jessie and James began their insufferable, rhyming monologue from the basket above. I felt Kishin vibrate against my hip. The tenderness vanished, replaced by the cold, familiar itch of a combat encounter.
"Give us that Pokémon, twerps!" Jessie shrieked.
"Yeah, that Happiny is coming with us!" James added, striking a pose. The giant metal claw lunged toward Brock as he shielded the Happiny.
Ash scrambled for a Poké Ball. "Pika, use Thunderbolt!"
"Piplup, Bubble Beam!" Dawn commanded.
But the claw was reinforced, swatting their attacks aside. I didn't wait.
"Kishin," I whispered. "Yamato-no-Orochi, Three-Headed Serpent."
From my waist, the sword disappeared.
The blade cleared the scabbard in a blur of silver. Three precise strikes severed the hydraulic lines and the support cables. The heavy metal claw went limp and crashed into the riverbed with a hollow thud.
"What was that?!" James yelled, leaning over the edge of the balloon.
"Our claw! It's ruined!" Jessie wailed.I stood between them and the newborn, the tip of my katana resting lightly on the stones.
"Leave now and nobody gets hurt," I said, my voice echoing with the weight of the Coronet Highlands.
The Happiny didn't hide. My eyes widened in surprise when the little puff hopped toward a massive boulder with a sudden burst of speed, lifted it over her head, and hurled it at the balloon with a triumphant cry.
"WE'RE BLASTING OFF AGAIN!" the thieves screamed as the balloon popped and sent them spiraling into the horizon.
I sheathed Kishin with a sharp, final clack. Ash ran up, looking impressed. "Whoa, Corvin! That was incredible! You and your Aegislash are so fast!"
"Yeah, thanks for the help," Brock said, picking up the Happiny. She chirped and nuzzled into his vest. "I've never seen a sword technique like that."
"She's a fighter," I said, looking at Brock. "Keep her close. Healers like her are the only reason worlds like ours don't crumble into dust."
Brock nodded. "I will. She's part of the family now."
I turned away and headed back toward my cedar tree. I sat back down, the weight of the Rift-Eye growing a little less heavy.
I still didn't belong in this world, but for a moment, I had seen a tiny reason to protect it.