So, this weakling who left his luggage in Johto is supposed to be our hero.

The other Frontier Brains have that consensus, and I can do little to open their eyes to the fraud whose feet they're grovelling at. Never would I have imagined I'd see the day old man Spenser transforms into a Poochyena, or Lucy acting like her favourite Seviper. Funny how a stupid ultimatum from the Lord of Irrationality has made vermin out of everyone else.

"You have one month to make a positive difference or I will shut you down and build a resort in your graveyard!"

Excellent, Scott. If our bodies are found, you'll be the prime suspect.

Not 'if', but 'when'. I doubt this silver-haired boy is our saviour. Unless he knows magic, we won't be budging. What's that weird crimson tattoo on the back of his hand? Oh, yes, a mockery.

I tap my foot and clear my throat. Everyone glances my way as if I'm a Kecleon whose Camouflage's backfired. Love their blank stares.

"Kaspar Wolfram, yeah? Battle Consultant or whatever from Johto?"

He nods with a drop of sweat. Clearly he knows I've seen through his ruse.

"I've read your file. You're Greta, the Arena Tycoon. You're as snobbish as I expected."

I grimace. "Your coffee must've been spiked."

"You must've been the culprit then," Kaspar says. "I've not told anyone."

Rolling my eyes, I resist the urge to slap him. Better to let our Pokémon do the talking. That's more effective.

An eldritch howl penetrates the air.

Huh, so he's got the grim reaper with him. If he thinks that's all it takes to intimidate me, then he's wrong.

"You can't even keep your Houndoom in her place, can you?" I smirk and cross my arms. Ignoring Brandon's hushing, I continue, "You people from Johto don't know Poké Balls exist? And you think you're all high and mighty to advise us?"

Kaspar takes a step forward, the gloomy faces of his worshippers lying in his shadow as he draws his amber eyes into slits. What now, judging my black and purple keikogi?

"Says the one who knows nothing of our culture. Our first Pokémon walk alongside us wherever we go. Maybe you should fix your prejudice while we fix the system." He pauses, perhaps out of regret. That's right, know your place, freak. He adds, "You're hinting at something."

"Let's battle." I extend a hand and beckon him to follow. "I will reveal the truth about you."

"Ha." As I turn, a hand flies to his temple and his façade collapses as I anticipated. "If that's what you want."

Sounds like you want to expose yourself too. I put on a smug smile and lock him in my peripheral vision. Now, all that's left is to grant his wish.

• • •

Along the way to the Battle Arena, our crafty guest passes judgemental glances, especially at the trees. He must be afraid of Bug-types, from the looks of it as he slows his stride and asks Anabel what's in the forest. She tells him it's his favourite type and there's lots of Beedrill who'll love to keep him company. His other worshippers, vying for his attention, answer his incessant questions on Hoenn, the situation at hand and go so far as to remark that my mood isn't always like a Skuntank's ass - loving that compliment, Tucker!

When we pass the high walls of my dojo and soak in the presence of my disciples, though, Kaspar crumbles further. From the umpteenth time he rubs his sweaty palms against his grey hoodie, he must've finally realised I'm not someone to be taken lightly.

He marvels at the red roof. "This isn't what I expected."

I get into my spot of the sheltered battlefield and gesture to a disciple to strike the gong. The heart-shaking echo erects a wheel of fortune from the earth, complete with a lever and a vending machine on its side. Everyone grabs Lemonades while encouraging Kaspar.

"What's the deal with this?" He jabs a thumb at the machine.

"Pull the lever." I sweep a hand across my blonde bangs and point at him. "What are you waiting for?"

He does as told. The wheel stops on a tile with three stars.

"Is that the difficulty?" Kaspar jokes, perhaps to defuse the awkward silence after the wheel quietens.

"It's a 3-on-3 battle," I deadpan and he shrugs before stepping into the square opposite me. "Since you're supposedly an expert, let's twist the rules. Usually, challengers choose the Pokémon they use and we both show our team. Instead, I'll choose your Pokémon and we only reveal our choices when it comes to it."

"Fine by me." Kaspar digs into his blue sling bag. A while later, he reveals four Poké Balls wedged between his fingers, one resting in his palm. "Pick your poison."

Given my lineup, it'll be advantageous to fight Houndoom. So I need to pick two more.

"Use Houndoom and the Pokémon in your palm."

He keeps his stoic visage.

I wiggle my finger like a Clefairy high on Metronome. The last one's going to be tough. From left to right, his expressions run from a broad smile to a trembling fist, a... masochistic guffaw to a... steely gaze.

"You jest."

"I don't." He's got the jitters. His weakness must lie in his self-conscious nature.

"Third one."

His eyes bulge. Did I choose the weakest link? Only an incompetent trainer would be this worried. People like me, on the other hand, have absolute faith in all my Pokémon.

"Let's just get on with it." Kaspar snaps his fingers and dons his composed mein. The three unselected Poké Balls burst open to reveal Octillery, Ambipom and Togekiss. Seems like he actually has a decent team. How does he choose them anyway? What is his ulterior motive? I must seek it out.

My top disciple takes the initiative to referee. The match begins with the concurrent toss of two Poké Balls, white light materialising and morphing about the battlefield, succeeded by the first revelations.

White mandibles snap twice. Then a blur of red, purple and yellow. As the light fades, a yellow spinneret wags before flipping around to wield purple eyes full of mirth. On my side, the lizard-like Pokémon snarls and swings its spore-filled tail at full force in reciprocation.

"First up, Greta's Breloom vs. Kaspar's Ariados!"

It was a feint. He isn't afraid of Bug-types. I take a deep breath and frown. Off to a disadvantage.

"Why don't you start first, since it's your turf?"

Meeting his amber eyes with my blue ones, I swing my arm and give the decisive order.

"Bring in your A Game with Laser Focus!"

Breloom spreads her leg wide open with a glint in her eyes.

Kaspar sighs. "Really? Here's a better way to start things. Rach, Sticky Web!"

Rach? Are you for real?

The Ariados gets to weaving, violet threads swishing out of her mouth and spinneret. With a backflip, she lands on her striped back and spins.

"Dodge the threads, Breloom!" Squinting helps a little, for they fly fast, already engulfing the arena from the pillars to the ceiling. I need to stop her. "Go with Spore!"

Breloom releases glowing beads from her mouth that zigzag towards the oblivious Rach. Clearly her trainer is slow to react. Poor soul's still turning clockwise as the spores inch closer.

"Now!"

Now what? I grit my teeth. Rach grinds to a halt and stands on her legs, her eyelids sliding downwards. Does she have a Chesto Berry? How are his eyes so fiery when nothing's happening?

"While she's drowsy, use Headbutt!"

From across the battlefield, Breloom charges with lightning tiptoes, avoiding the countless layers of threads. As she nears, more and more threads turn yellow and vibrate, forming the strange tattoo Kaspar sports. Breloom decelerates in contrast. Rach, in repose, must have done something earlier.

Just as Breloom's head meets Rach's chin, the Pokémon's eyes flutter open and she holds the Grass-type's neck with her pincers.

"You don't get it, do you?" A chortling Kaspar tilts his face skywards, shields it with his hands and splits his fingers apart to unveil sparks of malice while his tongue juts out. "Look closely."

He whispers to a disciple. She hurries away before returning with a handful of pebbles he throws at random.

"Stop your illegal-"

Outside the yellow tattoo, which now resembles the head of a Mega Houndoom whose horns connect to form an arc, white balls emerge, skewered by violet threads. Crackles overshadow Breloom's shrill cry as the scent of burnt s'mores flood the air.

It wasn't just Sticky Web, but also Electroweb!

Kaspar drops his hands and returns to his grim look. "From here on, your Battle Arena will be my Entropy's Arena."

I bite off my thumbnail. Cocky jerk will be the one to go down. I'll show him.

"Breloom, Mach Punch, and follow up with Focus Punch!"

He should realise his mistake by now. Unlike his Pokémon, mine excel in close combat.

Breloom's fist crashes into Rach's skull, producing a deafening crack that leaves all the spectators wincing. Then, with a stern look and a reddening fist, she swoops in.

"Rach, Shadow Sneak."

In that split second, Breloom touches air and her veneer cracks. Before she could confront her foe, she's sent tumbling out of the battlefield, down the steps and onto the earth, her head smacking the vending machine. It whirs and clanks. A bottle of Lemonade rolls into sight.

Here's to hope.

"Drink that, Breloom!"

"Agility and Lunge!"

Trembling, Breloom reaches for the bottle and pops it open. Some lemonade trickles into her mouth, though the bulk of it cools the ground.

"And now, for the finishing touch, Focus Energy and... Lunge!"

Breloom rolls to the side as Rach stills and recharges. Should I tell her to do something? What can I do? What...

"Synthesis!"

"Too bad." Kaspar gives me a thumbs down. "You should've gone with Spore."

"Uh... Fine! Breloom, use-"

"Too late."

While Breloom absorbs nutrients from the surrounding trees, Rach charges at her and pins her down. Again with the pincers till Breloom faints and I'm left wheezing and heaving.

"Word of warning," Kaspar says as Rach picks Breloom up and carries her to the battlefield on her back. "Rach has the Sniper ability. With Focus Energy and Razor Claw, hoho, she's not to be trifled with."

Razor Claw? It's then I notice the shiny metal attached to one of her front legs, too small to spot at a glance.

"Ye stop here," Brandon shouts. "Greta, Kaspar's not known as the Tactician for naught."

"I-I won't!"

I take my time returning Breloom to her Poké Ball. Time is what I need. If I can just stall and think of a good plan, this would be good.

"So, what's next? Umbreon or Gengar?"

Hanging my head low, I smirk. How dense can this person get? That first round's a fluke. I refuse to believe this Kaspar who trusts what's on the file to not face reality with the same degree of sincerity. This will give him an element of surprise, for sure.

"Are you going ahead with your Ariados?" I grab my Poké Ball and observe him.

"We aren't done here." Kaspar pets Rach and nuzzles her face. "Go on. Who's next?"

With Ariados weakened, Hariyama should be more than enough.

"Crush your foe, Hariyama!"

The bulky Fighting-type presents himself by rubbing his rounded ears and stomping the ground for power. The yellow extensions encircling his waist straighten themselves out.

"Are you done?"

Kaspar looks up and scratches the nape of his neck. "I never took you for a Fighting-type expert. Your file says otherwise. Are you sure this isn't your Gengar?"

"Gengar can't learn Transform."

"Right." Kaspar clicks his tongue and stretches his arms, eyeing the Frontier Brains in the audience. "I wonder why no one was aware of this misinformation."

"We trust each other enough for that."

"But you don't trust them enough."

I bite my lip and get Hariyama cracking down on Rach with Smelling Salts. Without caring about Rach's readiness, he strikes and squeezes her between his palms.

Kaspar raises a brow and gestures at the web in the arena. If the yellow parts were Electroweb, is he saying that the purple portion's Toxic-infused web? Rach isn't putting up a good fight either. Are they planning to win this round with Toxic? Do they think that's enough?

"Arm Thrust," I say as Kaspar nods. Alas, Rach's moving. No, wait, plucking the threads to produce a hollow melody isn't a legit move, is it? And she's just letting Hariyama's open-handed, straight-arm slaps barrage her? Unbelievable.

Hold on... I suck in a breath. What are those white dots on Hariyama's skirt? I bathed him just this morning and it's only, like, half past three. Besides, he was in his Poké Ball the whole time.

I blink. I'm not seeing things. It couldn't be...?

A quick scan confirms my suspicions. At this rate, I'm just going to be outwitted. I've never had this type of battles before. When my eyes linger on the Pokémon, my heart is torn, but the mind weeps with joy.

Ariados has fainted from the continuous Arm Thrust, but Hariyama's in slumberland. And his held item is a Black Belt, not a Berry like Breloom's. Even then, Breloom's Lum Berry proved to be unnecessary.

"So that's your goal." I muster the courage to look Kaspar in the eye once again. Each time I see his face, I think I'm shrinking. It's a thought, a mindset, but I can't help it. I can't escape it.

More than just a Pokémon battle, this is a battle of wits. I'm no longer the examiner. Worse still, I'm under his watch, a specimen struggling in his peculiar experiments.

"Can't smile anymore?" He reaches for his Poké Ball and cocks his head sideways. "I change my mind. I'll save him for the finale." Turning to his partner, he says, "Belphor, shall we?"

The Houndoom nods and prowls the battlefield.

"Kaspar's second Pokémon is Houndoom! How will this battle go?" The referee, clearly taken off guard by the twisted first round, has just regained his composure.

I wonder what happens next too, and when Hariyama will wake up. His dignity's at stake if he loses just because he's sleeping. He must be having sweet dreams of victory.

"Should we wait for Hariyama to stir?" Kaspar licks his lips. "What do you think, Greta?"

Balling up my fists, I shut my eyes. I hate this feeling of inferiority. Who is he to turn the tables on me? All this power play... Argh!

But the darkness isn't any better. If I keep my eyes closed, all I see are burnt trees whose leaves have left with cold winds, azure clouds shimmering and bleeding, rot in my lungs... My eyelids part, though it feels like they had hot glue lathered on them. It stings. A misty, kaleidoscopic aurora envelops the arena. The infuriating web is gone.

My jaws drop. Silence is the only thing that flees from my grasp. The Battle Arena has never beheld such bewitching beauty. Even the sight of a boy tickling a Houndoom mid-battle is breathtaking.

Someone squeezes my hand. It's Noland, the one who gives out the Knowledge symbol. He tells me this battle will be a good learning experience. Apparently, Kaspar had Belphor clear the webs with Flamethrower. The aurora before me results from her toxin-infused flames that give off a hallucinatory smoke effect.

"But Hariyama has Thick Fat, so he'll survive," I mumble.

"Indeed," Noland says. "And remember, like your team, you're Adamant."

He pats my back twice and returns to his seat. Hesitant, I nod before averting my attention to Kaspar Wolfram.

"Isn't this calming?" Sitting cross-legged, he locks eyes with me and beams.

I shudder. Houndoom, grim reaper. Toxin-infused flames. Hallucinatory smoke effect. Grim reaper. Death.

"But you don't trust them enough."

Is that true? And this isn't just about the Frontier Brains, right? It's also about my Pokémon.

"I've read your file." Those were the first words Kaspar told me. He knows.

There's a portion on fun facts to get to know each Frontier Brain better. I wrote that my role models were Chuck and Brawly.

He knows.

A lump lodges itself in my throat. My muscles contract.

"From here on, your Battle Arena... my Entropy's Arena."

Knowledge. Books. Experience.

"In an isolated system, entropy increases with time."

That quivering voice, that publicised vulnerability... They are mine. They are me.

With ragged breaths and burning lungs, I stomp my foot.

"The Battle Arena- no, The Battle Frontier works in isolation. Chaos is a given." I wipe my eyes, rush to the pantry to get a Chesto Berry and toss it into Hariyama's ajar mouth. When the crunch settles in, I begin again, once more into fervour. "I'll give you chaos! Belly Drum."

"Is it your turn to make music? My, we should form a band." Kaspar gets up and lets Belphor re-enter the battle. "Torment them with Heat Wave!"

Belphor breaks into a series of anagrammatic cries as the temperature skyrockets and the disciples scurry to the vending machine. The rest of us welcome the sweat.

Whatever limits Kaspar takes us, I will conquer them.

"Close Combat."

"Thunder Fang."

A storm brews in Belphor's jaws while Hariyama preps himself for the assault. Despite his Thick Fat, he gnashes his teeth and his knees melt, which likely has to do with the noxious, sweltering atmosphere. His hands glow a brighter orange than usual, perhaps due to swelling. Both Pokémon observe each other. Neither wants to move first, knowing the inherent risk.

"A Pokémon can experience up to three status conditions at once, like sleep, infatuation and confusion-" Kaspar shows three fingers and drops them as he lists each condition till his hand's a fist. "-but I'll show you something wilder." He puts his right foot forward and punches the air. "You'll see firsthand what it is to be burnt, paralysed and poisoned."

"That's impossible!" My disciples agree with my thoughts.

"It's made impossible by conventions where a Pokémon can bear only one primary status condition at any given time." Kaspar sneers. "You ought to know by now that I'm a rule breaker."

Electrifying fangs clash against bullet punches till Hariyama slows down and Belphor exhausts herself. The Fighting-type takes a nosedive into paralysis as Belphor growls, Will-O-Wisps departing from her mouth and arriving at Hariyama's body, setting him aflame as his muscles contract.

I'd tear my gaze away, but I, too, grow numb.

"Stop it, Kaspar!"

"What's wrong?" Kaspar strolls over to my side and raises my chin with a finger. "Belphor isn't the grim reaper, so don't worry." His forehead creases. His eyeballs quake. "This is just a price in exchange for greater discoveries." He leans forward till our breaths collide, hot and cold. "After all, Belphor's a devil."

I spit into his eyes. "You don't have to go that far!"

The words don't just come from me, but from everyone else. It becomes a chant.

Kaspar releases his grip on my chin, wipes his face and challenges the crowd. "Look, all I had to do was lie and you're all riled up. Isn't it great? Lies unite people." He tilts his head slightly and leers at me. "Is this the truth you wanted to reveal?"

I massage my shoulders and manage my best poker face. "What did you mean, you lied?"

"The only status condition affecting your Hariyama is Poison. The Will-O-Wisp works like Ember here while the short-term paralysis is a flinch thanks to Thunder Fang."

"How dare you lie!" Spenser croaks and stands up. "Why?"

"To complicate things." Kaspar shrugs. "To break rules and test limits." He heads back to his spot, rubbing his flaring nostrils. Spreading his arms open to contain the arena, he levels his gaze with the Frontier Brains. "To receive backlash."

Ghost-quiet permeates the arena. On the battlefield, Hariyama and Belphor compliment each other before fainting. Outside the battlefield, the humans are just beginning to understand.

Then, Lucy says, "You're saying, it wasn't you we needed."

Kaspar nods slowly and crosses his arms. "I found it weird when you people approached me. Deep down you have the answers you refuse to admit, but here you are, submerged in your lie."

"In an open system, entropy runs contrary to time." When the words whisper to my detached self, the aurora goes. As it is, a truth is exposed.

The referee taps my shoulder and asks if the battle should resume. I give him a look. He gulps.

"May... May both trainers present their final Pokémon?"

The crowd, happy to be distracted for the time being, falls back to being spectators.

It's showdown time. After letting our second Pokémon rest in their Poké Balls, we inhale sharply and release our final ones.

"The final round that will determine the fates of the trainers! Greta's Medicham vs... erm... Kaspar's...."

His face falls.

The spectators, too, know not what's an appropriate reaction to Kaspar's Pokémon, revelling in an orchestra of gasps and protests, derision and curiosity. Someone chokes on their Lemonade. I roll up my sleeves and tap my belt. Medicham can only stare at the beady eyes of the teeny weeny Pokémon before her.

"Teddii?" He scans the area, flails his arms, and jumps for joy. "Teddii!"

The humanoid, bipedal Pokémon slaps her red headpiece and glares at me.

"Kaspar," I say, raising my voice by a notch. "If this is your idea of comic relief, this ain't right."

Adopting a nonchalant look, Kaspar digs his ear with his pinky and simply watches as his Teddiursa scrambles out of the arena.

Even his tone is flat when he addresses - or tries to - the Copperajah in the room. "Oh, Mellow's hungry."

Apparently, someone like him is capable of coming up with cute nicknames?

All eyes settle on him, waiting for a better answer. There's none.

A few minutes pass.

"Should we call it your win?" My disciple wets his lips with saliva and frowns. "You won't look like a bully that way."

My irate reply is interjected by a sudden gale of excitement, accompanied with thunderous applause and squeals. The Frontier Brains drool at Mellow licking his honeyed paws. Let's not talk about my swooning disciples...

I adjust my shoulder blades and place my hands on my waist. "Please tell me that isn't a Teddiursa."

"Pray, Tycoon, what is he? Mew?" Kaspar pouts and wags his finger at me. "Don't hold back."

"Aren't you a sadist. That's maltreatment!" Following my sentiments, Medicham flicks his forehead with a projection of a psychic hand and huffs. He winces. I press on. "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Why don't I prove you wrong?" Kaspar embraces Mellow - the crescent mark on the Normal-type's forehead glows white - and gives me the stink eye. "You will lose in thirty minutes."

How's he so confident? An unevolved Pokémon has terribly low stats, not to mention he's up against a powerful foe with a type advantage and a sweet treat up her sleeve.

That's the point, isn't it, Greta? Intimidation. Kaspar isn't a Psychic. The future isn't set in stone.

"We'll see." I grip my white belt and flip it over to reveal a silver plate with a rainbow helix emblazoned on it. "You're asking for it, Kaspar! Medicham, Mega Evolve!"

Her headpiece opens like a Clamperl, trading red for white. A yellow stone emerges from the turban's depths. Three strips extend from the stone, one from either side of her head, giving her an aura of enlightenment. The best part comes in: four ghost-like arms unfurl from her back, as if she were breaking out of a chrysalis named suffering. Pitted against a teddy bear who probably just bathed in caramel and called it a meal, it's clear who will win in this round of extremes.

"This time, you start first," I say. His victory thus far has depended mainly on my setting things in motion. I'd love to see a Teddiursa in action too.

"Let's Play Nice, Mellow, and share the Honey!"

Mellow casts a pained look at his trainer and approaches Mega Medicham. Turning his head away, with eyes squeezed tight, he pushes a jar of honey into her arms. She dips her hands in and smears the sticky substance on her lips, and later, on her body, with Mellow's help.

"Delcatty got your tongue?" Kaspar purrs.

I snap my gaze at him just as six pinkies queue up with unfathomable patience just to seal some friendship promise thingy with a tiny, brown one.

Why can't I give orders? Why am I watching the bear Fling the remainder of his cherished Honey at my Pokémon? What in the world happened to type matchups?

"Mega Medicham, quit it! Telekinesis!"

Sorry there, Mellow. You're here to battle, not date.

Puffing up her cheeks, Mega Medicham snaps her fingers and lifts Mellow off the ground. Eyes follow the chuckling Normal-type as he bobs up and down in midair.

"To thine own self be true, Mellow!" Kaspar blinks and glances my way. "Twenty-five minutes."

Argh, I'm so getting the heebie-jeebies!

Mellow unpacks the statement by gazing at his newfound friend very charmingly. His caramel perfume intensifies. Almost everyone sneezes, including Mega Medicham. That moment her focus breaks, Mellow drops to the floor.

"Get in there with Force Palm!"

I have to avoid Focus Punch and High Jump Kick, which are unfortunately her favourite moves. Her flow state's too brittle for them to be effective.

Kaspar has Mellow counter with Thunder Punch, but it's nothing much. Or it should be.

Electricity explodes in the arena and the fragrance now overpowers my senses. Mega Medicham manages to land a hit before looking away from the buzzing smoke. From the uncontrollable sobs, Mellow must still be standing.

Mega Medicham's arms fall to her sides as she lowers her gaze. The buzzing crescendoes along with the cries. Screams break out.

"Darn, Kaspar! What did you do?"

The answer arrives as the smoke clears. Needles manifest. Harsh wingbeats seize the arena. Cut leaves adorn the floor.

Before me are a Queen Beedrill and her army of Arceus-knows-how-many Beedrill from the nearby forest, encircling my Pokémon who's clutching the empty honey jar in tearful confusion.

"Freeze them with Ice Punch!" I smack my chest and shake my head vehemently. "Endure the stings!"

The battle takes a turn into a flurry of status-infused blows. Mellow cheers for Mega Medicham, clearly Playing Nice after his Fake Tears dealt a damning hand on her. Frozen Beedrill fall one by one and slide across the battlefield. Good thing the Heat Wave has dissipated by now, or the situation would be aggravated. As if her being Poisoned isn't horrible enough.

"You must have an intense regime for your Pokémon," Kaspar says. "I take it this is a first?"

Clutching my heart, I howl. "Who cares about false niceties? High Jump Kick!"

Mega Medicham hurls her itchy and swollen body into the air, remaining elegant as a figure skater, and prepares her knee kick.

"Inner peace, Greta. You're letting your impulses work for you," Kaspar mumbles. "You soured their relationship, so now we'll take it back. Mellow, use Attract!"

Entranced by Mellow's heart-shaped eyes, Mega Medicham freezes. A crunch reverberates as she lands onto the floor.

Great! Friends to enemies to... lovers? This isn't a battle anymore. It's a makjang soap opera!

Throwing my hands in the air, I slide onto my knees. Mega Medicham's probably broken some bones. She can hardly get up without flailing and falling on her butt soon after.

"Mellow, remember the honey," Kaspar says.

Panic-stricken, my mouth runs dry. Based on Teddiursa's habits, only one move applies. And it doesn't bode well for my frail Pokémon who can no longer Endure a thing after going through so much.

She succumbs to Mellow's Licking honey off her lips (I mean, they can't possibly kiss, can they?) and closes her eyes after her last gasp.

"And the winner is Kaspar Wolfram!" The referee announces and everyone claps.

"Huh... That took twenty minutes."

He returns Mellow to his Poké Ball and walks over, extending a hand.

"You did pretty well."

I look up. "Don't you dare comfort me."

"It's a compliment." He snatches my wrist and pulls me up on my wobbly feet. "Steady there. I don't want you falling into my arms."

"Don't put ideas into my head."

"Technically, our Pokémon did fall in love." Kaspar nudges me as he turns to face the Frontier Brains. "When's the wedding?"

"Screw you."

The gong strikes thrice. We glance at the entrance to see Scott smiling.

"Spectacular! I've not seen such unconventional battling before! Will you-"

Kaspar raises a hand. "I have better things to do."

Returning all of his Pokémon back to their Poké Balls and sending a recharged Belphor out, he sighs. On the steps, he slaps Scott's shoulder and cracks his own neck.

"You can officiate the wedding when the Resort is built. Just remember to invite me, yeah?"

Kaspar shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets and exits the Battle Arena, leaving us staring at each other.

"Seems like you've all reached a meaningful decision." Scott takes off his shades. "Renovations begin tomorrow. If you will stay, stay. Otherwise, goodbye and Toodle-oo."

He lumbers off.

This time, no one complains. They just get on to teasing me and ignoring my scowl.

The setting sun brings pooling darkness into the arena. My heart rises above its walls.

Somehow, I have a feeling I will see Kaspar again.

X X X

Word Count: 4991 words

Entropy's Arena is a 3-on-3 battle oneshot featuring anime-version Greta, which means she's a Fighting-type expert and her team differs from the games.

Kaspar Wolfram, on the other hand, is my OC who'll make his appearance as a side character in Show Me Your Smile, the Pokéfic I'm currently writing.

For some reason, I'd write at least one oneshot and/or short story every year, though I thought I wouldn't this year. But here I am!

I hope you enjoyed reading my oneshot. It's been so long since I wrote a serious Pokémon battle huehue

Right, this is my entry for the challenge issued by PokemonWritersUnion! Check them out and give them a follow if you haven't!