The forest loomed quiet beneath the morning mist.
Shion stepped carefully between the roots of tall oaks, Kiba padding silently at his side. The smell of damp earth filled the air, and somewhere in the distance, a Murkrow cawed.
He wasn't sure what he expected to find.
But when he saw it, he stopped cold.
A tree ,massive, old, bark worn by decades of sun and rain...was marred by a single, savage slash. Four deep grooves ran across its surface, each as wide as Shion's fingers. Fresh wood splintered outward from the impact, and sap still oozed along the edges.
"…That's real," he whispered.
Kiba whined, ears folding back.
Arceus, perched on a low branch like a furry ornament, narrowed his eyes. "Ursaring," he confirmed.
Shion stared at the mark. It wasn't just the size. It was the anger in the way it cut—the way the bark was torn, not just sliced. Like something lashing out wildly.
He clenched his fists.
"Let's go," he said, turning away. "I don't want to run into it if it's still nearby."
Kiba barked quietly in agreement, and the three of them made their way back to the village.
---
For the next few days, life returned to normal...or as normal as it could be with a talking Bidoof shadowing you everywhere.
The claw marks never left Shion's mind, but the village remained calm. No one else had seen the Ursaring, and no new damage had been reported. Maybe it had wandered off deeper into the woods.
Shion hoped it had.
Still, something inside him felt different. He found himself watching the skies a little more. Listening more carefully at night.
And training just a bit harder.
---
It was midday when one of the local adults a broad-shouldered man named Gallen approached Shion near the fields.
"Haven't seen you battle in a while, kid," he said with a grin. "Up for a match?"
Shion blinked. "Uh, me?"
"You and that Rockruff of yours. Let's see if you've still got it."
Shion glanced at Kiba, who perked up immediately, tail wagging in anticipation.
"…Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Let's go."
The sparring ring was a patch of cleared land behind the barn, used for mock battles and training. A few villagers came to watch, including Miya, who bounced excitedly on a bale of hay.
Arceus flopped on his side beside her. "Prepare to witness divine disappointment."
"Go, Kiba!" Shion called as he stepped into position.
Across from them, Gallen released a sturdy-looking Machop. It stretched its arms and cracked its knuckles with a low grunt.
Kiba growled in challenge, crouching low.
"Battle, begin!" someone called.
Shion moved first. "Kiba, Rock Throw!"
Kiba stomped, and sharp stones erupted from the ground, spinning toward Machop. The bipedal Pokémon blocked with crossed arms, sliding back slightly.
"Karate chop!"
Machop lunged forward in a blur.
"Dodge, then Bite!"
Kiba zipped to the side, leaping up to sink his jaws into Machop's shoulder.
"Shake it off!" Gallen barked.
Machop swung wildly, tossing Kiba into the air.
"Land on your feet—Quick Attack!"
Kiba twisted in midair and launched himself downward in a glowing streak, slamming into Machop's chest.
Dust exploded outward.
When it cleared, Machop was on one knee, panting heavily. Kiba stood firm, growling, though his legs shook slightly.
Gallen raised a hand. "Alright, alright. You win."
The crowd clapped lightly.
Shion exhaled and walked over to ruffle Kiba's fur. "Nice work."
Kiba barked proudly, tail wagging in wide arcs.
From the sidelines, Arceus yawned. "Not terrible, for an amateur. Though your footwork was all wrong, and you waited too long to counter."
"You wanna fight him yourself next time?" Shion asked.
"I would, but I'm tragically cursed with adorableness."
---
Later, after the match and a quick lunch, Shion found himself resting under his usual tree with Kiba napping beside him. Arceus sat on a nearby rock, chewing on a berry leaf like it owed him money.
"…Hey," Shion said suddenly.
"Hmm?"
"How do Pokémon know what move we're talking about when we call them out? Like when I say Rock Throw..how does Kiba know what to do?"
Arceus stopped chewing.
"Ah," he said, "finally a question worth asking."
Shion blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Most human never even think about that. They just shout moves and hope their partners do the right thing."
Shion sat up straighter. "So how does it work?"
Arceus nodded approvingly. "Pokémon language is layered. There's vocal tone, intent, and something akin to instinctive understanding. When you say 'Rock Throw,' it translates to the same concept in our language. Pokémon and humans have coexisted for so long that we've developed a kind of mutual linguistic bridge."
"So… Pokémon do understand human language?"
"To a degree. Especially trained ones. Wild Pokémon may not respond the same way unless they've heard the command enough times or unless they trust you deeply."
Shion scratched his head. "That's… kind of amazing."
"Of course it is. We're amazing creatures."
Shion chuckled. "No wonder scholars study Pokémon so much."
"They should. We're endlessly fascinating." Arceus flipped over onto its back. "I'm divine and chubby. That's a research paper right there."
---
The Sun Sets Again
The rest of the day passed quietly. Shion helped in the fields, Kiba chased Rattata through the hay, and Arceus was mistaken by several children as a particularly soft pillow.
By the time the sun began to dip, casting long shadows across the village, Shion was already walking home with Kiba at his side and Arceus riding on his shoulder like a very opinionated scarf.
Dinner was simple, warm, and filled with laughter. But Shion's thoughts lingered on that claw mark. That battle. That instinct in Kiba's eyes.
Something was changing.
He could feel it in the air.
---
Forest, Nightfall
The trees shuddered.
A Pidgeotto burst out of the canopy, screeching. Moments later, it was struck mid-flight its feathers shredded by a wild swing.
Ursaring emerged from the brush like a living nightmare, muscles rippling under patchy fur. Its claws were slick with something dark and wet. Blood? Sap? Both?
Its eyes glowed not black , not natural.
Red. Burning red.
It snarled.
A Furret tried to run. It didn't make it far.
With a deafening roar, Ursaring charged through the trees, slashing wildly at anything that moved. Trees splintered. Branches fell. Pokémon fled in every direction.
Flying-types scattered into the sky. The night was alive with terrified cries and crashing sounds.
The forest peaceful only days ago was now a battleground.
And the storm had only just begun.