Evening found them at a coastal campground halfway between the Power Plant ruins and Vermillion City. The day's events had left everyone emotionally drained despite physical exhaustion being minimal. Rescuing Pokemon from Aether Foundation, watching a facility collapse, reporting everything to authorities, it had been intense in ways that battle training never quite prepared you for.
Sasuke set up the external camping equipment while Miyuki started preparing dinner ingredients. Kasumi released her Pokemon to stretch after being in Pokeballs during the day's chaos. Kiyomi sat documenting everything in her research journal, academic instinct demanding that extraordinary events be recorded properly.
"Should we talk about what happened?" Kasumi asked once they'd all settled around the portable camping table.
"Probably," Miyuki replied, chopping vegetables with practiced efficiency. "Processing traumatic experiences is psychologically important. Suppressing them creates problems later."
"Was it traumatic?" Kiyomi looked up from her journal. "I mean, it was dangerous and chaotic, but we handled it successfully. Nobody got hurt. The Pokemon were saved. Seems like a victory more than trauma."
"It was both," Sasuke said, starting the camping stove. "We did well under pressure, but the situation itself was wrong. Those Aether operatives were hurting Pokemon, treating them like objects to collect. That's disturbing regardless of how we responded."
They cooked together in companionable silence, each processing the day's events internally. Victini helped by fetching ingredients and occasionally taste-testing things despite not being asked. The Victory Pokemon's presence was comforting, his natural optimism helped lighten the heavy atmosphere.
Dinner was simple but satisfying. Grilled fish, steamed vegetables, rice with herbs. They ate slowly, no one rushing despite hunger. The act of sharing a meal felt important after a day of confronting people who viewed Pokemon as resources rather than partners.
"We'll encounter Aether Foundation again," Sasuke finally said once dinner was mostly finished. "They're too active across Kanto to avoid. The question is whether we actively oppose them or just react when we happen across their operations."
"We're not investigators," Miyuki pointed out. "We have our own goals, gym badges, Contest ribbons, research. Getting distracted by playing hero could derail our journey."
"But we can't ignore Pokemon being hurt," Kasumi protested. "If we see something wrong, we have to act."
"Agreed," Kiyomi said. "But Miyuki's point stands. We respond to situations we encounter, but we don't go searching for trouble. That's a reasonable middle ground."
"Works for me," Sasuke confirmed. "Focus on our primary goals, but don't walk away when Pokemon need help. Same philosophy we've had all along."
Movement near the RV caught everyone's attention. Miyuki's Bagon, Ryu, had been resting after the day's travel, but now he was pacing restlessly. The small Dragon-type circled the camping area several times, his blue scales catching firelight in unusual ways.
"Ryu?" Miyuki called. "What's wrong?"
The Bagon approached her but couldn't seem to settle. He sat down, then immediately stood up again. Tried to curl into a resting position but kept shifting. And most notably, a faint glow had started emanating from his body, subtle but definitely present.
"Oh," Miyuki breathed, recognition dawning. "He's evolving."
"Right now?" Kasumi asked, excitement immediately replacing the evening's somber mood.
"Evolution happens when Pokemon are ready, not on convenient schedules." Miyuki was already moving toward Ryu, medical knowledge making her approach cautious. "The day's experiences probably triggered something. Exposure to so many Electric-types, witnessing Raikou's power, the general intensity, it pushed him past whatever threshold he needed."
"Should we give him space?" Sasuke asked, unsure of evolution protocol.
"Actually, gather around. Pokemon evolve better when supported by their social group." Miyuki knelt beside Ryu, who had stopped pacing and now stood very still. "It's okay, Ryu. This is what you've been training for. Let it happen."
The glow intensified. Ryu's body began changing shape, the light making details difficult to see but the transformation clearly underway. His compact, bipedal form was shifting, growing, restructuring according to genetic instructions encoded millions of years ago.
The light became blinding for several seconds. When it faded, a Shelgon stood where Bagon had been.
The difference was dramatic. Where Bagon had been small and agile with clearly visible limbs, Shelgon was bulkier and armored. His body was encased in a hard gray shell that looked nearly impenetrable. Legs were barely visible beneath the shell's weight. The Dragon-type had transformed from a creature of mobility to one of defense.
Shelgon looked around, taking in his new form. Then, in a moment that would have been comical if it weren't so genuinely sad, he tried to jump into the air.
His heavy body barely left the ground. The armored shell weighed him down, making the aerial maneuvers he'd dreamed of impossible. No wings had emerged. No flight capability had manifested.
Shelgon made a sound somewhere between a roar and a whimper. Frustration radiated from him in palpable waves.
"I know," Miyuki said immediately, moving closer despite Shelgon's agitation. "This isn't what you wanted. You dreamed of flying, and instead you got armor. But this is necessary, Ryu. This stage builds the strength you'll need when you finally evolve into Salamence."
Shelgon wasn't listening. He charged at a nearby tree and headbutted it with surprising force. The tree shook, bark cracking from the impact. Then he charged another tree, and another, taking his frustration out on inanimate objects.
"This is normal," Miyuki explained to the others, though her voice carried sadness. "Shelgon go through a difficult psychological period. They spent their entire lives as Bagon dreaming of flight. Then they evolve and discover they still can't fly, and now they're slower and less mobile too. It feels like a punishment rather than progress."
Shelgon headbutted another tree, then sat down heavily, clearly exhausted. The armored shell made even simple movements require more energy. His breathing came harder, adjusting to the increased weight.
Miyuki approached slowly, kneeling beside her Pokemon. "I understand you're frustrated. Every Shelgon goes through this. You want to fly right now, but your body isn't ready yet. This shell you see as a prison? It's actually armor that's protecting you while you grow strong enough for the final evolution."
She placed her hand on his shell, and despite the armor being essentially rock-hard, Shelgon seemed to feel the gesture. His breathing gradually slowed, agitation decreasing.
"I'll be with you through this stage," Miyuki continued. "However long it takes, weeks, months, we'll get through it together. And when you finally evolve into Salamence and take flight for the first time, it'll be worth all the waiting."
Shelgon rumbled something that might have been acceptance. He still wasn't happy about the situation, but Miyuki's words and presence were helping him process the disappointment.
"His training regimen needs to adjust," Miyuki said, shifting into analytical mode. "Shelgon are much heavier than Bagon, probably three times the weight. His mobility is severely reduced, so we focus on defensive training and building the muscle mass needed for eventual flight."
"What does that training look like?" Sasuke asked, his strategic mind already considering implications.