The scene was chaos. Wisty stood defiantly with her shield, taking hit after hit from Mew’s relentless barrage of attacks. Heatwave scorched the ground, Water Gun drenched her clothes, Scald steamed around her, Vine Whip lashed at her shield, and other moves pummeled her from all sides. Her Pokémon watched helplessly, trembling with concern.

Gary's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—it was his grandfather, Professor Oak.

"Gary," Oak said urgently, "I'm detecting massive energy readings from your location. What's going on?"

Gary sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Grandpa."

Before Oak could respond, another call came in—Amaranth. Gary groaned, switching lines.

"Amaranth, this is really not the time—"

"What's happening out there?!" Amaranth interrupted, her voice filled with alarm. "Energy levels are off the charts! Is Wisty involved?"

Gary glanced at Wisty, who was taking another direct hit from Mew’s Scald, steam rising around her as she yelled, "Is that all you’ve got?!"

"Uh… yeah, she’s involved," Gary admitted, running a hand through his hair. "And she’s, uh, holding her own. Sort of."

Horace, meanwhile, was pacing frantically. "She’s going to get herself killed! Someone do something!" His voice cracked with panic.

Quillon folded his arms, scowling. "If she doesn’t get out of there soon, she will get herself killed. Does she even know what she’s doing?!"

Chikorita, however, had had enough. It stomped its feet and let out an enraged cry. "Chikaaaaa!" It charged forward, vines at the ready.

"Chikorita, no!" Wisty snapped, whirling around. "I said stay back! This is my fight!"

But Chikorita didn’t stop. It launched a barrage of Razor Leaf at Mew, only to be swatted aside by a Psybeam. Wisty groaned in frustration. "You stubborn little—stay with the others!"

Suddenly, Mew used Psychic, lifting Wisty off her feet and hurling her off the cliff.

"Wisty!" Gary yelled, rushing to the edge.

From below, Wisty’s voice echoed back up. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" She climbed back up the cliff, panting but glaring at Mew.

Gary, wide-eyed, turned to the others. "I think she’s evolved into a Primeape."

Quillon stared at her in disbelief. "She’s insane. That’s not determination; that’s full-on madness."

Mew giggled mischievously and prepared another attack, but Wisty slammed her shield into the ground. "Enough playing around, Mew! You’re not evil—you’re just confused. And I’m going to fix this, even if it kills me!"

Horace, still pacing, muttered, "It just might at this rate."

Gary sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "We’re going to need a miracle—or a Pokécenter—real soon."

Wisty braced herself as Mew unleashed yet another flurry of attacks. She grinned through gritted teeth. "Bring it on, Mew. I’ve got all day!"

Mew hovered ominously, charging up another Hyper Beam. Just as the energy started to glow brighter, Wisty let out an exasperated shout.

"That’s it!" she yelled, dropping her shield. In a sudden burst of adrenaline-fueled madness, the eight-year-old sprinted toward Mew, leapt into the air, and grabbed the mythical Pokémon with both hands.

"Wisty, no!" Gary shouted.

Without hesitation, Wisty spun Mew around and hurled her with surprising strength toward a nearby rock wall. Mew crashed into it with a loud CRACK, dislodging a cascade of boulders that tumbled down in a cloud of dust and rubble.

Everyone froze.

Goh blinked. "Did… did she just yeet Mew into a wall?"

Danika nodded slowly. "Yep. That happened."

Mew poked her head out from under the rubble, looking more stunned than injured. She floated back up, glaring at Wisty, who dusted off her hands like it was just another Tuesday.

Horace clutched his head. "My brain needs a wash. I—how do you even process that?! She just threw Mew! A LEGENDARY Pokémon! Like it was a beach ball!"

Horace, looking equally dumbfounded, muttered, "She’s eight… right? Eight?"

Gary sighed heavily, muttering under his breath, "This kid is a walking disaster. No wonder Ash is her brother."

Wisty crossed her arms, glaring at Mew. "That’s what you get for blasting me off cliffs! Now, are you going to listen, or do I have to really throw hands?"

Mew hovered silently for a moment, then giggled mischievously before firing a Vine Whip. Wisty sidestepped it with a smirk. "Oh, so it’s like that, huh? Fine, round two it is!" She cracked her knuckles, looking ready for more.

Horace groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I can't. I just can’t. Someone wake me up from this fever dream."

Quillon, still staring at Wisty in shock, muttered, "She’s not a Primeape. She’s a Machamp in disguise."

Mew let out a playful chirp, and Wisty braced herself. "Alright, Mew. Let’s settle this once and for all!"