Chapter 646: On Time
~Third POV~
[Unova Region, The Following Morning, Castelia City – BW Agency Temporary Office]
The sun rose over Castelia with a crisp, clear light. The skyscrapers looked like pillars of glass and steel against the bright blue sky. Inside the BW Agency's temporary headquarters, the chaos had not subsided; if anything, it had evolved.
White had set up a literal 'command center.' Charts were pinned to the walls, showing tour dates, potential venues, and "Meloetta-themed merchandise" sketches. White shoved a tablet in her face as she explained, "Azure! Look at this! The 'Relic Tour'! We start in Castelia, hit Nimbasa's musical theater, then maybe a special performance at the Village Bridge!"
Azure, nursing a large coffee, blinked slowly. He asked carefully, "White. We talked about this. She's not an employee."
White corrected, her eyes sparkling, "She's a 'Creative Consultant'! And she already agreed to the snacks!"
Meloetta was floating near a window, curiously watching a flock of Pidove fly by. She was wearing a small, stylish scarf that White had gifted her—a 'peace offering.' Meloetta communicated to Azure, 'The girl is persistent. I'll give her that.'
Azure sighed, muttering, "Traitor."
Meloetta pouted as she replied cutely, 'Music requires an audience, Azure. I cannot sing to your Pikachu forever. He has no sense of pitch.'
Pikachu chirped indignantly from the floor, where he was practicing his 'Quick Attack' movements with Black, "Pika! (Hey!)"
Black, meanwhile, was in the middle of a 'dream-state.' He was sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, steam practically coming off his head, muttering to himself, "If Azure has a Meloetta... and I have a Musha... and Musha eats dreams... maybe I can dream of a Mythical Pokémon so hard that it becomes real!"
Crispin yelled from the kitchen, where he was trying to bake spicy cookies, "That's not how biology works, Black!"
Amary looked up from her laptop. Then gave her input: "Actually, given the properties of Dream Mist and the potential for inter-dimensional manifestations... the probability is non-zero, though incredibly low."
Roxie walked in, her bass guitar slung over her back. She asked excitedly, "Yo, Azure! Since the 'Diva' is here, I was thinking... what if we do a remix? My band, 'Koffing and the Toxics,' featuring Meloetta? We'll call it 'Relic Rock'!"
Azure looked around the room. It was a madhouse.
Gengar was currently hanging upside down from the ceiling, showing Zorua how to 'Filter' photos to make Team Plasma look even more ridiculous. Rotom was busy syncing Azure's Arc Phone data with the local network, making sure everyone knew that Azure Sky was officially the trainer of a legend. Amidst the noise and the planning and the rivalries, Azure felt a sense of belonging he hadn't expected to find so soon in Unova. He reached out, his hand brushing the Master Ball on his belt.
Azure said, standing up and stretching, "Alright, White, you can have your 'Creative Consultant' for one show. Nemona, I'll give you one battle—Meloetta vs. Pawmot—but only if you promise to stop following us into the bathrooms. And Black?"
Black snapped out of his trance. He said excitedly, "Yeah!?"
Azure grinned, feeling it was time. He said in an excited tone, "Get your gear. We have a Gym Leader to find. I didn't come to Castelia just to be a talent manager."
The group erupted into a chorus of cheers, arguments, and battle cries.
Outside, Castelia City roared to life. The taxis honked, the people surged through the streets, and the wind carried the faint, shimmering echo of a song that hadn't been heard in a thousand years.
Team Plasma might be watching from the shadows, and the road to the Elite Four might be long, but with a Mythical singer and a team of chaotic friends, Azure Sky knew one thing for certain. Team Plasma didn't stand a chance.
/////
[Deep in a Team Plasma Stronghold – Undisclosed Location]
Bronius knelt before a holographic screen. His robes were still slightly charred, and his pride was nonexistent.
Bronius and his grunts managed to get a slap on the wrist for having their own Team Plasma Grunts infiltrate the police force, which enabled them to escape. But currently, he bowed his head as he stammered, "My Lord Ghetsis... The attempt... it was interrupted. The trainer... he is not an ordinary boy..."
On the screen, a tall man with a cloak and a single, chilling eyepiece stared back. Ghetsis did not look angry; he looked intrigued. Ghetsis mused, his voice like dry parchment, "Azure Sky... The 'Uncrowned Champion.' It seems our 'liberation' has found its first true obstacle."
Ghetsis leaned forward, his shadow engulfing the camera. He continued in a firm tone with a scowl, "Let him keep the Meloetta for now. Let him draw the eyes of the world to him. When the time comes, and one of the Twin Dragons awakens... we will not just take his Pokémon. We will take his hope."
Bronius whispered in a helpless tone, "And the prank videos, my Lord? They are... very damaging to our recruitment."
Ghetsis's expression darkened. Then he muttered darkly, "Find that prankster who dares. And bring me its head."
*BEEP*
The video call ended as Bronius gulped. For now, he would focus on kidnapping the 'liberated' Pokémon for the time being…
/////
[Unova Region, Later, Castelia City – Plaza]
At seven in the morning, the gargantuan granite towers that lined the central plaza seemed to scrape the pale, cloudless Unova sky, catching the amber light of the rising sun and casting long, indigo shadows over the bustling stone avenues.
Millions of footsteps—leather soles, rubber sneakers, bicycle tires, and the occasional heavy clack of a Golett's iron heel—composed a continuous, low-frequency roar that rattled the glass storefronts.
In the heart of the central plaza, surrounded by towering bronze statues of legendary dragons and splashing fountains shaped like massive Sewaddle, Black stood with his map held out like a shield against the morning wind.
Black's voice cut through the urban din with the force of a megaphone, his dark eyes wide and bloodshot from lack of sleep, "Look at this, Nite! Just look at it!"
He jammed a calloused finger against the glossy paper, nearly poking his loyal Pignite in the snout as he said, "Five different docks! Five! You could fit the entire town of Nuvema inside Dock Three alone! How is a city this big even legal?"
Nite—a stout, brawny Pignite whose curly tail was curled in a tight knot of skepticism—let out a heavy sigh that smelled faintly of roasted berries. He grunted, gently nudging the paper away with his snout, "Pig… gnite…"
Black continued, completely ignoring the smoke puffing from his partner's nostrils, "I'm telling you, the scale of this place is staggering. If we miss a single street, we might never find the Gym! And Burgh has that weird schedule—wait, where's my notebook?"
He began frantically patting his pockets, his face turning the color of a ripe plum as he realized he had left his strategy logs back at the hotel desk.
Then he heard White's voice calling to him, "Must you shout at the top of your lungs before the sun has even cleared the Chrysler Building?"
The dry, clipped tone belonged to White, who materialized from the pedestrian crowd holding a brown paper bag bearing the golden emblem of a Casteliacone parlor. She wore her usual attire, her ponytail bobbing with every precise, purposeful step. Black blinked, his frantic search halting instantly. He asked, curiously tilting his head at her, "Did you do your tasks, White? Did you check the catering contracts for the next BW Agency shoot?"
White rolled her eyes so hard it looked like a medical event. She reached into the bag and produced three pale, intricately shaped ice cream cones resembling the petals of a Petilil. She shoved one into Black's chest, forcing him to grab it or drop it, and handed another to Azure, who was standing nearby, quietly scratching the chin of the tiny yellow Pikachu perched on his shoulder.
White commanded, her voice brooking no argument, "Eat. It's mint-and-honey flavored. The local cafes swear it clears the mental fog. And yes, Black, I handled the agency tasks, the sponsorship renewals, and the catering. Unlike some people who treat city navigation like an expedition to the distortion world."
Azure said softly, taking a delicate bite of the cold confection, "Thanks, White."
The sweetness hit his tongue instantly, blending the crisp bite of mountain mint with the rich, golden tang of wild Unova honey. He asked his partners, "This is actually incredible. Right, Pikachu and Eevee?"
The mouse Pokémon squeaked, leaning down from Azure's shoulder to sample a crumb of the waffle cone, "Pika-pichu!"
Eevee poked her head out, taking a quick lick and enjoying the ice cream. "Evoi!"
From inside Azure's utility jacket, a muffled, high-pitched giggle echoed. A yellow paw poked through the zipper, followed by the mischievous Pichu (Mew).
Mew's voice vibrated directly into Azure's mind, sweet and chiming like a silver bell taking a lick: 'So sweet! Like little sugar clouds!'
*RANG*
Azure smiled faintly, his fingers brushing the cool glass of his Arc Phone. Suddenly, a sharp, mechanical chime rang out from the device, vibrating against his ribs. The neon-blue holographic screen flickered to life above the casing, displaying a blinking amber alarm: GYM RESERVATION TIME: 08:30 AM.
Azure murmured, slipping his Arc Phone back into his pocket, notifying Black, "Ah! Our window is open."
A cheerful voice chimed in from behind them, "Right on schedule."
Roxie bounced into view, her electric-bass case slung over her shoulder like a quiver, her black-and-purple hair swaying wildly. Beside her strode Crispin, the Blueberry Academy fire specialist, currently chewing on a stale pretzel; Amary, whose sharp, analytical eyes were already scanning the plaza's security feeds through her glasses; and Nemona, the hyperactive Paldean Elite Four member whose boots tapped a frantic rhythm against the cobblestones.
Nemona grinned, practically vibrating with competitive glee. She said excitedly, "We heard you guys scored the morning slot!"
Her orange-trimmed jacket fluttered as she threw an arm around Black's shoulders, nearly causing him to drop his Casteliacone. She exclaimed in an excited tone, "Man, I remember my battle with Burgh! His Leavanny is slicker than a greased Eel! You guys better bring your A-game!"
Crispin mumbled around a mouthful of pretzel, "We already got our badges from him days ago. Though I gotta admit, walking through that honey maze of his was like trying to escape a giant bowl of oatmeal. Good luck not getting your sneakers ruined."
Black stiffened, his eyes narrowing. He asked, "Honey maze? What are you talking about? A Gym is supposed to be a tactical arena, not a bakery!"
*TWANG*
Roxie laughed, strumming the dead metal string of her bass case as she explained, "Unova gyms have personality, kid! Burgh's an artist first, Gym Leader second. If you don't appreciate the aesthetic, he'll paint the floor with your team!"
Before Black could launch into one of his characteristic, high-speed tactical rants, White whipped out a clipboard that seemed to materialize from thin air. She slapped a multi-page document into Black's hands, followed by an identical one for Azure.
White said flatly to them, "Here. Your post-battle interview schedules, agency promotional obligations for the upcoming Castelia fashion week, and the list of ingredients we need to restock for Gigi's training session tomorrow."
Black let out a long, pathetic groan that sounded like a dying Purrloin, his head dropping until his forehead rested against Nite's side, muttering, "More paper… I came to Unova to battle, not to do paperwork…"
Azure chuckled helplessly, peering down at his own schedule.
He said casually in a lighthearted tone, "Well, at least she color-coded mine. Look, she used blue for media and red for training."
White said, her tone softening just a fraction as she adjusted her collar, "Focus on the battle first. Win quickly. I have a meeting with the Castelia Art Museum director at ten."
With Roxie, Crispin, Amary, and Nemona trailing behind them like a small, highly chaotic fan club, the two boys turned toward the grand, ivy-draped arches of the Castelia City Gym. They were excited to see how Azure would battle to learn from the best.
/////
[Unova Region, Meanwhile, Castelia City – Studio Castelia]
A few blocks away, tucked deep within the cavernous, glass-roofed arcade of Studio Castelia, the air smelled of turpentine, linseed oil, and old canvas. Burgh stood with his arms crossed behind his back, staring intently at a massive, swirling oil painting mounted on an iron easel.
The canvas was a riot of violent chrome yellows and muddy umbers, depicting the jagged skyline of Nacrene City under a bruised, twilight sky. Murmured a tall, impeccably dressed art dealer from the city's upper district, adjusting his spectacles, "Magnificent! The texture, the grit—it's as though you've captured the very soul of the museum district's foundation. I must have it inside the main gallery by noon."
Burgh smiled, his lanky frame leaning back as he wiped a smudge of Prussian blue paint from his thumb onto his pale yellow trousers. He explained to the man happily, "Ah, thank you, Julian. The inspiration hit me during my last trip to Nacrene. I spent three days locked in an old railroad warehouse with the local sculptors, just breathing in the dust and listening to the old iron beams settle. I wanted to return to my roots—the raw, unvarnished expression of industrial life."
Julian agreed, reaching for his checkbook. Julian commented, "You have truly gone back to the beginning, Burgh."
*SLAM*
The heavy oak doors of the studio flew open, banging against the plastered brick wall with a sound like a thunderclap.
"Burgh!"
Iris marched into the studio, her purple hair flying behind her like a battle standard, her dragon-hide boots clicking aggressively against the polished wooden floor. Without even breaking stride, she marched straight up to the iron easel, planted her fists on her hips, and stared up at the masterpiece with a look of profound disgust.
Iris demanded, pointing a finger at the canvas, "What is this hot garbage?"
Burgh's smile instantly vanished, his jaw dropping so hard his teeth clicked. He asked Iris in a shocked tone, criticizing his artwork, "Garbage? Iris, that's—that's an exploration of post-industrial minimalism—"
Iris interrupted, waving her hand dismissively, "It looks like a Garbodor sneezed on a trash can lid! The composition is muddy, the brushwork looks like you painted it with your elbows while asleep, and honestly? It doesn't even look like you made it. It has zero zip! Zero sparkle!"
*THUD*
Burgh's knees buckled. The eccentric Gym Leader pitched forward like a felled oak tree, hitting the wooden floorboards with a pathetic whump, flat on his back, staring up at the vaulted glass ceiling with a look of utter existential devastation.
Julian blinked, looking between the prostrate Gym Leader and the fiercely unimpressed young girl. He asked nervously, "Ah… perhaps I should return later?"
Iris sighed helplessly, wandering away from the fallen artist to inspect a stack of smaller canvases leaning against a plaster pillar as she said dismissively, "Don't mind him; he's just being overdramatic."
She tapped her chin, her dark eyes lighting up as she spotted two framed pieces labeled with neat, elegant calligraphy: Black Lightning Bolt and White Flame. Her eyes sparkled as she said excitedly, "Oh! Now these are cool. Look at the energy in the brushstrokes! This one's got real fire!"
Julian cautiously patted Burgh's shoulder, where the artist was currently curled into a fetal position, muttering something about color theory and betrayal. Then Iris said to Burgh, remembering why she came, "Oh yeah, Burgh! You got challengers arriving at the Gym in less than ten minutes or else you'll be late!"
Iris glanced back at Burgh, who let out a mournful, muffled sigh into the floorboards. She crouched down, sniffing the air with a critical wrinkle of her nose. Then she leaned closer, sniffing directly at Burgh's yellow scarf.
Iris said curiously, her eyes widening, "Wait a minute… Are you wearing cologne made of honey?"
Burgh slowly lifted his head, his eyes blinking behind his round glasses. He sniffed his own sleeve, then blinked again as he explained himself. "Oh. Oh, my goodness. You're right. I was cleaning out the hive-frames in the back garden before the painters arrived. The honeycomb oil must have soaked right through my smock."
As the sticky, rich scent of sweet wildflowers and raw nectar drifted from his clothes, a sudden, electric twitch ran through Burgh's long limbs. The despair melted from his face, replaced by a wild, manic gleam of pure artistic inspiration.
Burgh leaped to his feet with the spring-loaded agility of a startled Spinarak. He said in an inspired tone, "Honey! The architecture! The walls! Of course! My newest challengers are arriving today—that intense boy with the blazing eyes and the quiet one with the aura! I need a maze! A living, breathing labyrinth of pure, adhesive sweetness!"
He snatched a palette knife and a tube of cadmium yellow from the nearest table, his fingers flying across the wooden handle. He quickly said in a hurried tone, "I must prepare! The texture must be thick enough to trap the unwary, yet translucent enough to catch the morning sun!"
*Whoop*
With a joyful whoop, Burgh bolted toward the studio exit, his yellow coat billowing behind him like a runaway kite. Julian let out a long breath, sliding his checkbook back into his pocket, muttering, "Well… crisis averted, I suppose."
Iris sighed, watching the cloud of dust the Gym Leader had left in his wake. She shook her head, a fond, exasperated smile touching her lips as she said childishly, "Honestly, Burgh… you're such a kid."
Her expression quickly darkened, however, as she remembered another absent member of her social circle. She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing into a deep scowl as she shouted, "And speaking of kids who need a reality check… where in the world is Drayton? That lazy good-for-nothing was supposed to meet up with us at the plaza an hour ago! If he thinks he can sleep through another Blueberry Academy liaison meeting, I'm sending a Gible to chew his favorite boots!"
Grumbling under her breath, Iris grabbed her staff and stomped out of the studio, muttering about lazy dragons and the general incompetence of teenage boys.
/////
[Unova Region, Later, Castelia City – Gym]
The Castelia City Gym did not look like a place of combat; it looked like a cross between a modern art gallery and a high-end confectionery factory. When Black and Azure pushed through the massive glass doors, they found Burgh standing in the center of the antechamber, frantically applying a final, glossy swipe of golden goo to a towering, translucent wall with a trowel.
Black roared, marching right up to the Gym Leader and pointing an accusing finger at his chest, "You're late! The appointment was for 8:30 sharp! Do you have any idea how many schedules you're disrupting? White has three meetings and an interview lined up before lunch!"
*CLANG*
Burgh dropped his trowel with a metallic CLANG, turning around with a breathless, apologetic grin. He apologized quickly, "Ah! My sincerest apologies, young maestro! The muse took me! I was struck by a divine vision of stickiness!"
He waved his arms grandly toward the massive structure stretching before them. He explained proudly, "Behold! My latest masterpiece: The Amber Catacomb! Every wall is constructed from a proprietary blend of high-viscosity forest honey and hardened crystal-sugar resin. It's an interactive psychological maze!"
Black stared at the honey-drenched wall, his eye twitching. He asked in an annoyed tone, "A maze? We didn't come here to solve a maze; we came to battle!"
Burgh beamed, adjusting his glasses as he explained, "Oh, but the maze is the battle! To reach the battlefield at the center, you must navigate the sensory overload of the honeyed corridors. Notice how the light refracts through the sugar-glass? It represents the sweet, consuming nature of artistic obsession!"
Black groaned, "This is ridiculous…"
Without waiting another second, he reared back and slammed his shoulder directly into the nearest honey wall!
*CRACK-SPLAT*
The translucent wall exploded inward in a shower of golden, sticky shards and thick, viscous strings of syrup that splattered across the stone floor with a wet schlop. Black burst through the wreckage, his jacket immediately coated in a glistening layer of amber slime, his face set in an expression of grim, unstoppable determination.
Azure called out, stepping up to the jagged hole his friend had just punched, "Black, wait! And there he goes off again…"
Azure sighed, lifting his right hand...
*Hummm*
A soft, pale-blue luminescence began to bleed from his skin, wrapping his entire body in a tight, shimmering sheath of protective Aura. The sticky honey dripping from the edges of the broken wall seemed to slide off his clothes as if repelled by an invisible force field, leaving his fabric completely pristine. With a calm, measured stride, Azure walked straight through the sticky debris, not a single drop touching his uniform.
Burgh's jaw hit the floor. His eyes bulged behind his round frames as he stared at Azure's immaculate coat. He exclaimed in shock, "H—how?! That resin has a tensile strength of four hundred Pascals! It should have trapped you like a helpless Pineco!"
Azure said simply, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve, "Aura control. It's all about maintaining a boundary between yourself and your environment."
From the back entrance, Nemona burst into laughter, clapping her hands so hard the sound echoed off the high ceiling. She exclaimed, "That is so cool! Can you teach me that trick, Azure? I would love that!"
Roxie cheered, stepping inside alongside Amary and Crispin. She said, wanting to learn too, "Me too! Though I gotta say, watching Black tear through art like a rampaging Tauros is pretty entertaining."
Burgh slumped against the remaining honey wall, letting out a long, theatrical sob of pure artistic despair as he muttered, "My masterpiece… my beautiful, multi-sensory labyrinth… reduced to rubble in five seconds flat…"
He wiped a fake tear from his eye, then suddenly brightened, clapping his hands together. With a grin, he said happily, "Ah, but the show must go on! Follow me through the service corridor, my friends! Let us witness the climax of this grand tragedy!"
Moments later, the entire entourage—Roxie, Crispin, Amary, Nemona, and Burgh—piled into the elevated viewing stands overlooking the main battle arena.
In the center of the circular stone platform stood Black, dripping in golden honey, glaring up at the stands with a dark scowl. He looked down at his sticky sleeves, then turned his gaze toward Azure, who was sitting comfortably in the front row between Nemona and a very confused-looking Pikachu.
Black barked, pointing an accusing finger at Azure, "Wait a minute! How are you not sticky? You walked right through that wall too!"
Azure blinked innocently, leaning back in his seat. He said innocently, looking down on Black from his position, "Aura."
Black let out an audible growl, rolling his eyes so hard it looked painful. He muttered under his breath, "Of course. It's always Aura with you. Next thing I know, you'll tell me you can cook dinner with your mind."
Pikachu giggled, hiding its face behind its paws, "Pika-pi!"
Inside Azure's jacket, Mew's mental voice echoed with mischievous glee, 'He can! He made toast float yesterday!'
Black shouted, stomping onto the trainer's box opposite the Gym Leader's podium, "Alright, enough talking!"
He whipped a Poké Ball from his belt, his eyes blazing with the fierce, hyper-focused intensity that had driven him for nine long years. He declared resolutely, "Burgh! No more art projects! Send out your bugs and let's settle this!"
Burgh took his place across the field, pulling a polished Pokéball from his yellow smock with a dramatic flourish, a wide, theatrical grin spreading across his face. He accepted in a determined tone, "Very well, young maestro! Let us see if your passion can pierce the shell of my finest creations!"
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A/N: Hope you like the chapter!