I run my thumb over Sarah's lower lip, her skin flushed and her eyes bright with a worshipful hunger. The night's work has taken hold deep in her marrow. I shift my gaze to Ellie, who remains bowed, her small frame still quivering slightly from the dawn's final release.
"By the time I return, I expect your Pokémon to reflect the price you paid for that knowledge," I state, my voice a cold, steady command. "Coordinate with Mia and Hana—ensure the Circle knows its Master has moved on to claim the road ahead."
I withdraw my hand. The absence of my touch leaves them visibly reaching for more. I adjust my charcoal vest, the tactical fabric straining over my chest as I square my shoulders.
Sarah's breath catches, her fingers digging into the plush carpet as she watches me move toward the heavy mahogany doors. "We will not fail you, Master," she whispers, her voice thick with the gravel of her exhaustion and her pride. Behind her, Ellie murmurs a fragmented vow of her own, her eyes never leaving the Bubblebeam TM as if it were a holy relic.
I don't look back as I palm the magnetic seal, the door hissing open to the cool, sterile air of the Center's hallway.
[POV: Sarah]
He's leaving. The cold air from the hall hits my skin and I feel empty, but the weight of the Fly manual in my hand makes me feel strong. I'm not just a trainer anymore; I'm his voice. I'll make sure every girl in this lobby knows who owns the road to Mt. Moon.
I see Sarah's spine lock with athletic poise even as she kneels, her knuckles whitening as she grips her manual, her gaze fixed on my back with a fierce, possessive loyalty until the doors slide shut.
The Pokémon Center lobby is a blur of hushed whispers and averted gazes as I stride through. The morning shift of nurses bows instinctively as I pass. Mia is already at her post. Her eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second—a flash of shared secrets and total fealty—before she returns to her screen, her fingers flying with a new, disciplined urgency.
I push through the glass double doors, the crisp morning air of Pewter City hitting my lungs with the sharp tang of stone and pine.