Nidoking let out a thunderous roar, drove both arms into the ground with all his strength, and the earth groaned beneath him. Ground-type energy surged outward from his body in waves, and the flat desert floor buckled and heaved like the surface of a rough sea.
Earthquake.
The ground cracked and split in every direction, fissures shooting out from Nidoking's feet like a web of lightning. The shaking went on for a full five seconds before it finally settled. When it was over, Nidoking straightened up slowly, breathing hard. That had taken a lot out of him.
It had also taken a lot out of the Onix.
Ground-type moves already dealt double damage to Onix under normal circumstances. But an opponent that used Dig was underground — and Earthquake's power doubled against Pokémon caught beneath the surface. Even Onix's exceptional base Defence of 160 couldn't absorb a hit like that.
Nova touched down beside Nidoking as Corvisquire released him, wings beating to slow their descent. The terrain around them was a mess — cracked earth and uneven ground stretching in every direction.
Some part of the Onix's wild instinct must have saved it. At the very last moment, it had clawed its way back to the surface rather than staying underground to absorb the full force of the doubled Earthquake. If it had stayed down even a second longer, the impact would have been fatal. As it was, the Onix lay sprawled across the broken ground, completely unconscious, its massive frame still and barely breathing.
One other stroke of luck: this particular Onix had been fiercely territorial, allowing no other Pokémon to share its domain. Because of that, the wide-reaching Earthquake hadn't caught any smaller cave-dwelling species in the crossfire.
Now Nova had a decision to make.
If he left the Onix behind in this state, it wouldn't survive. The wild Pokémon of the Tamar Desert would finish what he had started — some predator would find an easy meal before the Onix ever woke up. Walking away meant signing its death warrant.
The Onix had picked the fight. Its injuries weren't Nova's fault. He knew that.
But Nova was a Trainer, and watching a Pokémon die when he could do something about it didn't sit right with him, regardless of who had started it.
Catching it outright, though, gave him pause. He pulled up its scan again and looked at the potential rating.
Blue-rank. Level cap of sixty.
For most Professional Trainers, that would be a solid result — a dependable partner, maybe even the cornerstone of a working team. But Nova knew his own goals, and he knew what kind of battles lay ahead of him. An Onix capped at level sixty would eventually fall behind, no matter how much time and effort he put into it. Pushing it past that ceiling would take exceptional luck on top of everything else.
He stood there for a moment, weighing it.
Then he picked up a Poké Ball anyway.
His team wasn't full yet. A temporary member didn't cost him anything, and if the Onix turned out not to fit his long-term plans, he could find it a good home with another Trainer later. That was better than leaving it here.
He pressed the Poké Ball against the Onix's head. A flash of red light pulled the enormous Pokémon inside. Unconscious as it was, it offered no resistance. The button on the ball blinked once and went still.
Caught.
The downside was immediate: Nova now technically had a third Pokémon, but one he couldn't use. The Onix needed proper care before it would be battle-ready again, and there was no Pokémon Center anywhere near the Tamar Desert. It would have to wait until he was back in Harmony City.
He pocketed the ball, picked up his bike, and rode on.
This time, he told Corvisquire to gain more altitude. Earlier, the bird had been circling only three to five metres above him — close enough to act quickly, but not high enough to spot threats before they were already on top of Nova. He needed more warning than that.
The tradeoff was real. Higher up, Corvisquire had a wider field of view. But if something went wrong on the ground, it couldn't reach Nova as fast. At three metres, Corvisquire could drop to shield him almost instantly. At thirty metres, that dive took time Nova might not have.
Two more close encounters over the next stretch convinced him that the current setup wasn't working well enough. The Tamar Desert lived up to its reputation as an Uninhabited Area — the wild Pokémon out here were high-levelled and aggressive, and they didn't hesitate. With only Corvisquire available for quick response while Nidoking was in his ball, keeping Nova safe was too uncertain.
He made a change.
He let Nidoking out to walk alongside him, while Corvisquire stayed high overhead to watch for threats from a distance.
The speed drop was significant. On his own, Nova could push the bike to around fifteen kilometres an hour. Keeping pace with Nidoking's stride cut that down to about seven. They weren't moving fast.
But the atmosphere changed completely. A Trainer on a bike alone was a target. A Trainer walking beside a Nidoking was something else entirely. Wild Pokémon that might have tested Nova on his own took one look at Nidoking and decided the territory wasn't worth it. They moved in a straight line, and nothing stepped in front of them.
The cost was time. What might have been a single day's ride to Lune Town had stretched into something that would take until sundown to cover only halfway.
Travelling through the desert at night wasn't an option Nova was willing to take. The danger wasn't nocturnal Pokémon — it was the dark itself. Without any artificial light, under a dim, moonless sky, the desert floor was practically invisible. One wrong turn out here and he could wander off course entirely, with nothing to orient him. The thought was genuinely unsettling.
There was also the practical matter of what waited at the end of the journey. He was heading to Lune Town to find Taylor, and that meeting wasn't going to be a friendly one. Arriving at night, exhausted and half-lost, would be reckless. He needed to be sharp.
Before the sun touched the horizon, he had Corvisquire scout ahead for shelter. The bird found a wind-carved ridge of packed earth, and Nova made camp on the sheltered side of it, pitching his tent out of the wind.
Corvisquire, being part of the Corviknight line, had some natural nocturnal instincts. Nova arranged the watch in shifts — Corvisquire would rest first and then take over guard duty after midnight, while Nova and Nidoking slept through the quieter hours.
It wasn't a comfortable night, but it passed without incident.
By four in the morning, the eastern edge of the horizon had begun to glow a deep reddish-orange. The landscape slowly took shape again out of the dark. Nova was already awake.
He ate a quick breakfast from his emergency rations. Nidoking and Corvisquire got the prepared feed he had packed for them. They were back on the move before the sun had fully risen.
The remaining thirty kilometres went steadily. At ten in the morning, Nova crested a shallow rise and saw it — a cluster of low, worn-down structures sitting deep in the desert.
Lune Town.
He knew he had arrived even before he could make out the buildings clearly. Beneath his tires, the ground had changed. There were no roads in the Tamar Desert; you rode wherever the ground would carry you. But now he was rolling over cracked, unmaintained concrete — old road surface, weathered and broken by years of sand and heat. Someone had built this once. Someone had planned streets here.
Nova slowed, still dusted with desert grit from two days of travel, and looked ahead.
Several figures were moving toward the intersection ahead, coming from the direction of the town. They didn't seem bothered by the Nidoking walking at Nova's side. They didn't slow down or step aside.
Trouble, it seemed, had already come out to meet him.