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The morning sun bathed the road to Jubilife City in a warm, golden hue. Dawn was in high spirits, her competitive fire stoked by the previous day's losses. She was putting Piplup through its paces, directing the small penguin in a series of rapid-fire drills.
"Piplup, use Peck!"
The blue penguin lunged forward, its beak glowing with energy as it aimed for the Pikachu darting across the grass. Pikachu, a veteran of a thousand such skirmishes, danced back with effortless grace, treating the session more like a game of tag than a battle.
"Piplup's accuracy is improving," Ash noted, watching the way the penguin adjusted its center of gravity. "The speed on that Peck is solid, Dawn. You're building a good foundation."
"Really? Hear that, Piplup? Ash says we're doing great!" Dawn beamed, scooping her partner into a celebratory hug. The air around them felt light, filled with the simple joy of a journey just beginning.
But the light shifted. Ash's veteran instincts, sharpened by a lifetime of ambushes, flared. He didn't wait to see the threat; he felt the displacement of air.
"Pidgeot, Steel Wing—intercept!"
The massive bird materialized from its Poké Ball in a flash of white light. Its wings took on a cold, metallic luster as it banked sharply upward, catching a giant mechanical claw just as it was about to descend on the group. The sound of metal on metal rang through the trees.
"It's you three again," Ash sighed, rubbing his temples in a gesture of pure exhaustion. Beside him, Pikachu mimicked the pose, shaking its head at the sheer predictability of it all.
"Team Rocket," Brock added, crossing his arms. "Four regions later and you're still at it. I almost have to admire the dedication."
"Who are they?" Dawn asked, looking up at the Meowth-shaped hot air balloon with genuine confusion.
"Acquaintances," Ash replied flatly. "But get ready. They're about to start the performance."
And start they did. The trio struck their poses, unleashing a brand-new set of lines tailored for the Sinnoh region. From "The wind!" to "The earth!" and the final, inevitable "Wobbuffet!", the poem played out like a well-rehearsed theater piece.
"New lines again? They really do put in the work," Brock remarked.
"Who are you calling an idiot, Meowth?!" the talking Pokémon roared from the basket, whiskers twitching in fury.
Ash didn't have the patience for the banter. "Pidgeot, finish this. Cut the balloon in half."
Pidgeot didn't need a second command. It dived with the precision of a falcon, its shimmering wings slicing through the fabric of the balloon like a hot knife through butter. With the classic cry of "We're blasting off again!", the trio spiraled into the blue, vanishing into a distant glint.
"Ding! 50 Gold Coins added," the system echoed in Ash's mind.
"Better than nothing," Ash muttered, reclaiming his hat from Aipom.
As they continued, they arrived at a small, picturesque town characterized by Western-style architecture. Ash's focus shifted. He wasn't looking at the scenery; his eyes were scanning the thickets and the high grass. He was looking for the turtle.
In the original timeline, Ash's Turtwig had been a powerhouse of speed that eventually evolved into a Torterra—a tank whose sheer mass contradicted Ash's hit-and-run style. In the anime, the transition was painful, a clash of speed-based instinct and heavyweight reality.
But I'm not that Ash, he thought. I know how to pilot a heavyweight.
He had spent years in a different world mastering the mechanics of tanks like Aggron and Snorlax. He knew how to use the weight of a Continent Pokémon as a weapon, not a hindrance.
"Help me look for a Pokémon," Ash said, turning to Dawn and Brock. "It's a Turtwig. I saw a flash of green in the bushes back there."
It was a half-truth, but it worked. Dawn and Brock immediately joined the search, with Pikachu and Piplup sniffing through the undergrowth. A sudden rustle in a nearby thicket caught Ash's ear.
"There," Ash whispered, his hand going to his belt. "Let's see if this little guy is ready for a real trainer."
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