Chapter 0688: Ace Pilot, Ready for Sortie(Two-in-One)

"No time for explanations!" Steven shouted over the roaring helicopter blades, gripping the open doorframe as his blue hair whipped wildly.

"I'm sending Kyogre and Groudon's movement patterns to your Rotom Phone! If possible, we need you reinforcing the trainers along their paths!"

The usually composed Champion's eyes burned with rare intensity as he pleaded:

"Please, Natsume-sensei!"

Raindrops streaked through the mist churned up by spinning rotors. In the distance, Mt. Chimney pulsed with ominous orange glow beneath storm clouds, its heat waves distorting the air.

Somewhere beyond this rain—flooded ports, drought-stricken towns, wildfires consuming mountain villages...

Natsume closed his eyes, feeling the weight settle across his shoulders. When they reopened, his gaze was crystal clear.

"You have my word, Steven."

Steven froze momentarily. The black-haired young man before him radiated an aura he hadn't seen in a long time.

The last time Natsume-sensei wore such a solemn expression was during the crisis at the Tree of Beginning.

A refined, effortless smile graced Steven's face.

He extended his suited arm, gripping Natsume's hand firmly before turning sternly toward Alain:

"Prepare yourself, Alain! We move now!"

"Understood!" Alain responded.

Every Gym Leader, Elite Four member, and Champion of the Hoenn League had already deployed to the battlefield, stalling the advance of the Kyogre and Groudon to buy precious evacuation time for civilians.

Every additional combatant who could reinforce either frontline was invaluable.

Natsume—a Trainer of Champion-tier strength—could rapidly traverse both battlefronts, even becoming the decisive wild card!

Steven believed this without doubt.

Because he had fought alongside him before, witnessing his Champion moment at the crumbling Tree of Beginning!

A Champion's duty was to step forward when needed.

Even when afraid, even at personal risk, they must stand as the shield for the many.

Natsume steadied his breathing, surprised to find himself unusually calm.

He watched the helicopter ascend through the rain-laden clouds.

Steven, hand braced against the open door, gave him a solemn nod from afar.

"Maybe I've been through this too many times... Is this just routine now?" Natsume muttered.

Regardless, Hoenn Duo—whether in games or special editions—outmatched even the Creation Trio in sheer terror.

The reason?

The primal fear and devastation brought by catastrophic floods and droughts.

His mission was to shuttle between both fronts, reinforcing Trainers holding the line against the Legendaries.

In importance, he was the libero on the soccer field, the Seeker chasing the Golden Snitch in Ghetsis!

Natsume smacked his forehead in sudden realization:

"Damn it, I can't even fly! How am I supposed to be a Seeker?!"

Standing alone on Devon Corporation's helipad amidst the rain, Natsume watched the helicopter shrink to a speck.

Natsume nearly threw up his hands: "They left without me!"

Calm down. Stay calm.

His gaze shifted to Latias, its feathers dampened from the rain as it materialized.

The Eon Pokémon was licking its wings straight when it noticed Natsume's stare, immediately blushing in embarrassment.

"Desperate times," Natsume said earnestly.

"Let me ride for just one day... You get what I mean?"

「Only this once! And I won't promise not to drop you!」 Latias huffed.

"No problem. I just found out which floor R&D is on."

Natsume flashed the authority black card Steven had given him, grinning:

"Before takeoff, let's suit up like a real Champion!"

……

Thud!

In the equipment division, a researcher cowered behind bulletproof glass, hand hovering over the emergency alarm as the door slammed open.

Natsume slapped the black card onto the counter with gusto:

"Give me every life-saving, high-performance flight gear Devon's got!"

The researcher eyed the gold-embossed card and immediately stood at attention:

"Honored guest, our latest aerodynamic 'Turbo 2000' reduces drag and enhances cruising speed... We also have 'Meteor Arrows,' standard gear for Flying-type racing tournaments!"

Natsume: "...Seems like all speed boosters. Got anything with safety features? Like training wheels for beginners?"

The researcher adjusted his glasses, studying Natsume before gasping: "You're Natsume-sensei!"

"You know me?"

"President Steven specifically instructed us to prepare custom flight gear for you. One moment!"

He retrieved a saddle-shaped apparatus from a secure vault and presented it through the counter:

"Custom-designed per your needs. Auto-adjusts to any Flying Pokémon's proportions with enhanced comfort for advanced maneuvers—climbs, tight turns, dives..."

Natsume blinked dumbfoundedly before spotting an issue:

"Where are the guardrails?!"

"G-Guardrails?" The researcher stammered. "President Steven didn't mention those! If you insist, I'll need a week—"

Natsume gloomily took the saddle with a sigh:

"No time... Hey, got any capes?"

"Yes! Flame/lightning/slash-proof standard issue. Pairs with any outfit—highly endorsed by Kanto's Lance!"

Natsume: "..."

Devon's R&D really did have everything.

"May I ask," the researcher whispered, "why you need the cape...?"

Natsume deadpanned:

"No reason... Just planning my future outfit!"

Thud!

Exiting the equipment room loaded with gear, Natsume pocketed the black card.

Darkrai peered at the shadow-stored items, astonished:

"Golden Repel, custom Escape Ropes, Special Attack enhancers, a bundle of Mental Herbs... Did you rob Devon Corp?!"

"Plus Safety Goggles." Natsume didn't turn back. "The weather's gonna be brutal. These keep visibility clear."

「Do I really have to wear this thing?」 Latias eyed the flying saddle skeptically. 「Looks weird...」

"It's like floaties for swimming beginners. Once you're used to flying, we won't need it... Probably."

「Fine... Since it's to save people.」 Latias nodded reluctantly.

"And what," Darkrai tilted its head as Natsume closed his eyes, emitting a white glow, "are you doing now?"

"The Power of One. Calling reinforcements."

Natsume replied calmly.

Darkrai blinked: "Who exactly are you calling?"

"No idea. Just casting the net wide first!"

Natsume's gaze sharpened.

By the authority of Arceus' Emissary, Hero of Truth and Ideals, Aura Guardian... (etc.)

Primal Kyogre, Primal Groudon—wait till my squad arrives. Don't you dare run!

……

Sinnoh Region, Snowpoint Temple

Brilliant sunlight pierced through the clearing storm clouds, casting a radiant glow over the scaffold-covered temple. The snow-covered ground shimmered like a sea of diamonds.

Battle Tower Leader Palmer, his hair tousled and clad in a military coat, laughed heartily as he slung an arm around Pyramid King Brandon’s shoulders.

"See? Told ya the temple reconstruction wasn’t that hard after all!"

Brandon, arms crossed in his dusty green excavation uniform, gave a reluctant nod.

Today marked the final inspection of the temple’s restoration progress before Palmer officially took over the project.

Since handing off the responsibility, Snowpoint Temple’s reconstruction had proceeded smoothly—with no signs of Regigigas stirring again.

By now, the Colossal Pokémon should have been slumbering peacefully within the sacred Stone Orb enshrined deep within the temple.

Regigigas’ last awakening—when it crossed through the dimensional rift and triggered earthquakes at Michina Town’s ruins—felt like a distant nightmare.

"Was I… truly overreacting?" Brandon wondered.

"Told ya you were worryin’ over nothing," Palmer said, grinning. "Regigigas doesn’t just wake up on a whim! You think it’s like Hoenn’s Groudon, nap-disrupting every other season?"

Brandon scowled. "That’s not the point—"

If Regigigas ever fully awakened, even an ancient titan like Groudon would barely stand a chance against its raw power.

"Relax, the job’s in good hands. We’ll wrap up by tonight." Palmer nudged Brandon toward the exit. "C’mon, beers are on me!"

BOOOOM—

The earth trembled violently. Snow cascaded down the mountain peaks in thunderous waves.

Brandon’s face paled—the same dread from before clawing at his chest. Palmer blinked. "The hell was that?!"

The tremors intensified. From within the temple’s depths, the Imprison Stone Orb erupted in a blinding crimson light.

"Regigigas. Open your eyes. Return from darkness."

Natsume’s voice resonated through The Power of One.

CRACK!

A beam of red energy burst from the orb. The temple shook violently—platforms splintered, scaffolds collapsed in a cacophony of shattered metal.

Brandon and Palmer whirled around, jaws slack.

"Regigigas—"

Towering over them, the massive Regigigas stood imposingly, its body’s signal lights flickering to life as it clenched its colossal metallic fists.

"Regigigas!!"

A hurricane-force gust sent both men stumbling back. Yet, instead of rampaging, Regigigas simply… sat down on its throne. Its lights dimmed once more, as if lost in thought—or awaiting orders.

Palmer gaped. "What… just happened?"

Brandon groaned. "I wish I knew!"

"Must be Slow Start—it’s regaining mobility gradually." Palmer scratched his chin, squinting at the clear blue skies. "But… who the hell is it waiting for?"

……

Hoenn Region, Emergency Response HQ

Groudon and Kyogre’s revival was now undeniable.

"Energy pulses detected—off the charts!"

"Massive bio-signatures from Seafloor Cavern! Submerged earthquakes, cyclones, and mega-tsunamis forming!"

"Z13 Waters—Primal Kyogre has awakened!"

"Mt. Chimney’s volcanic activity spiking—oh shit, it’s erupting!"

"The entire mountain’s splitting open! Aerial footage confirms—Groudon’s surface temp has doubled!"

Panicked yet methodical, the command center’s operators typed furiously, faces pale under the glow of massive screens.

Hoenn’s President clasped his hands, glasses reflecting the disaster unfolding.

"May… everyone return safely."

One screen zoomed in on Lilycove City.

Once a serene coastal paradise—where retirees vacationed and Wailmer playfully breached the waves—now lay drowned under apocalyptic floods. Skyscrapers snapped like twigs under the tsunami’s wrath. Cars, trees, and lampposts rolled like driftwood in the churning waters. The iconic Lilycove Department Store, half-submerged, sparked violently as its neon signs short-circuited.

Amid the cataclysm, a lone destroyer cut through the waves—its deck carrying a tiny, determined figure.

CRACK!

Lightning split the ink-black sky. Rain lashed against Wallace’s striking features—his soaked cape clung to him, his white hat long lost to the storm.

Yet his gaze never wavered.

Another flash illuminated the night like daylight. His mentor, Juan, stared at the monstrous shadow rising from the depths and roared:

"INCOMING, WALLACE!"

"Understood!"

Wallace flung out his sleeve. A red beam shot forth—Milotic materialized in a cascade of glittering light, its ribbons flaring as thunder boomed.

"Ice Beam!"

BOOM!

A colossal shadow erupted from the waves. The destroyer lurched violently as Milotic’s attack froze the towering wave—but the beast itself emerged unscathed.

Wallace’s breath hitched.

Time seemed to freeze as he stood face-to-face with a massive, glowing yellow eye.

Kyogre.

Then—WHOOSH! A geyser of water erupted skyward.

"Luvdisc, Protect!"

The heart-Luvdisc on his shoulder unleashed a barrier, shielding the entire ship.

Wallace wasn’t a brute-force fighter—but this split-second, large-scale defense proved his mastery as Champion.

CRASH!

The collapsing tidal wave shattered against the shield like glass. Yet as the spray cleared, an even greater darkness loomed above.

Wallace looked up—and his blood ran cold.

The rain had stopped.

No—it was blotted out by the sheer mass of the thirty-meter-long deity now hovering over them. Its whale-like form, adorned with primal yellow markings, cast a shadow over the sea. Its blank, pitiless eyes locked onto the southern horizon.

Primal Kyogre.

Every Trainer on deck stood paralyzed.

"Kyogre—"

The ancient whale’s cry echoed through the storm. As Kyogre began moving again, the crew could only watch in stunned silence.

"We’re… supposed to fight THAT?" a sailor whispered.

"Mission failure… We didn’t even slow it down…"

Despair hung thick in the air.

Juan, drenched and stroking his mustache, placed a hand on Wallace’s shoulder.

"Our ship’s faster than Kyogre’s current pace," he said quietly.

A spark ignited in Wallace’s eyes.

Suddenly, the Champion whirled, his cape billowing as he addressed the crew:

"We follow Kyogre! We intercept it again at Slateport!"

The veteran sailors stared up at him, dumbfounded.

Wallace stood firm against the raging winds, his soaked cape gripped tightly in one hand. A single drop of sweat traced his sharp jawline.

This "dandy" of a Champion—the embodiment of elegance—now spoke with ironclad resolve:

"We can fail once. Twice. A hundred times. But we never despair! Countless lives depend on us—we keep moving forward!*"

He thrust a finger toward Kyogre’s retreating silhouette.

"Lilycove fell? We hold Slateport! Slateport falls? We defend Mauville! Every second we buy them is a second closer to survival—"

His voice, usually refined, now rang hoarse with passion:

"After it! AFTER KYOGRE!"

The destroyer roared to life, cutting through the waves as the crew rallied with a thunderous cry:

"YES, SIR!"