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"Baxcalibur! Icicle Crash!"
Edwin's cold voice cut through the night, and he swept his hand forward in a single, sharp gesture. The temperature dropped immediately, a biting wind howling through the trees as though winter had arrived in the span of a breath.
Ice-type energy gathered in the air with frightening speed, condensing into a massive, jagged pillar of ice that formed almost instantly before launching itself at Greninja with a sharp whistle.
"Greninja — Substitute, now!"
Whitney did not meet the attack head-on. She had assessed Baxcalibur the moment it appeared, and she had no intention of trading blows with it carelessly. Her command was calm, deliberate — Greninja would fight while moving, give ground where it needed to, and not waste energy on a collision it couldn't win.
Baxcalibur was a Pseudo-Legendary. Its raw power outstripped virtually every Pokémon at its level, and it was built around physical attack. A full-power, STAB-boosted Icicle Crash from a Champion-level Baxcalibur was the kind of hit that ended fights. Greninja, for all its strengths, was not built to absorb that kind of force — its defenses and HP were middling at best, and a direct trade would cost her dearly.
What Greninja had was speed. So Whitney would use it.
And beyond the tactics, the simpler truth was that the Rainbow Wing was already in hand. There was nothing left to gain from fighting. She only needed to find an opening and get out.
The ice pillar streaked through the air, scattering fine ice shards in its wake, cold air trailing behind it like a comet's tail. Greninja's body flickered — fluid, near-weightless, slipping through the air like it was dancing around the attack — and in the same motion, a Substitute materialized to absorb what it couldn't fully dodge, taking the hit and dissipating.
"Greninja! Surf!"
With the pressure off for a moment, it was time to make room. Whitney called the move without urgency, her voice level, letting Greninja answer for her.
Greninja raised two fingers, drawing them through the air in a precise sequence. Its eyes flooded with brilliant blue light, deep and vast as open water. Then the energy broke — surging up from Greninja's back and cresting into an enormous wave that came crashing outward in every direction, a wall of water that tore through the undergrowth and swallowed the space between Pokémon and Trainers alike.
At Champion level, Greninja's Surf hit like something far beyond the move's usual scope. Ancient trees buckled and snapped, a flash flood churning through the forest floor in its wake. It was a shame there was no natural water source nearby — a river or lake would have amplified the move considerably — but even without that bonus, the wave was punishing.
The assembled Trainers had to manage as best they could.
Some had come prepared. A few released Pokémon with the Water Absorb ability — Gastrodon and Cradily among them — counting on their immunity to Water-type moves to carry them through. The power gap between their Pokémon and a Champion-level Greninja meant the immunity wasn't total, but it reduced the damage enough to let them hold their ground.
Others had Vaporeon or Quagsire with Storm Drain, achieving a similar effect — redirecting the Water-type energy rather than simply resisting it. Neither ability offered a perfect shield against something this powerful, but both were enough.
Those without the luxury of favorable abilities had to adapt. Flying-types lifted into the air, clearing the wave entirely. Pokémon with type resistances braced and took the hit. The rest simply endured it.
On Edwin's side, Baxcalibur stood its ground. Dragon-type gave it a natural resistance to Water, and Greninja's Surf landed without doing meaningful damage. Edwin watched it absorb the wave with no particular expression.
"Come out, Gyarados."
Whitney called the Pokémon without ceremony, releasing it mid-motion, and swung herself onto its back in the same movement. She didn't wait.
"Gyarados — go, now!"
Gyarados let out a thunderous roar and surged into the air, its long body coiling as it climbed, carrying Whitney up and away from the chaos below.
"Don't let her leave — stop her!"
The shout went up almost immediately, and every Trainer still in the fight turned their Pokémon toward the fleeing Gyarados. Those with Flying-types mounted up and gave chase. Ranged attacks went skyward from every angle.
Whitney, helmeted and unhurried atop Gyarados, turned her head to look back at the pursuit. She scanned the faces — and the Pokémon — coming after her. Then she reached to her belt, picked out a Poké Ball, and threw it.
"Come out, Azumarill. Return, Greninja."
The crowd stalled for half a second, thrown off. She had recalled her ace — her Champion-level Greninja — and sent out an Azumarill? In the middle of a chase?
The answer came before anyone had finished the thought.
Whitney's voice, filtered through the helmet's electronics, carried back to them flat and unhurried: "Perish Song."
The silence that followed lasted about one second.
Then the cursing started.
Every Trainer in pursuit realized at once what she had done. Recalling Greninja had been deliberate — Greninja would have been caught by its own Perish Song if left out. Azumarill, freshly sent out, had a clean countdown. And now every Pokémon that had heard the song had three turns left.
Whitney gave no sign that she heard any of it. She continued riding Gyarados, steady and unhurried, putting distance between herself and the chaos behind her.
Edwin's expression had gone tight. Perish Song was a deeply inconvenient move to deal with mid-pursuit, and he could not pretend otherwise.
"Return, Baxcalibur. Noivern, go!"
He recalled Baxcalibur without hesitation and landed on Noivern's back in a single motion. "After her — don't lose sight of them."
Noivern beat its wings hard and vaulted into the sky, trailing a white arc behind it as it closed the gap, leaving the disorder below behind.
The Perish Song countdown had done its work on the pursuit. A significant number of Trainers — those without the speed to close the distance quickly, or without the confidence to push through the stakes — quietly dropped out of the chase. Only a handful remained: those too determined to stop, or too greedy to walk away.
Whitney stood on Gyarados's back, the wind pulling at her hair. She glanced down at the electronic watch on her wrist.
1:12.
That was the approximate time remaining before Perish Song reached its conclusion and Gyarados fainted. She would need to recall it before then.
She looked back at Edwin and the remaining pursuers, then reached calmly to her belt, taking hold of Gyarados's Ball and Azumarill's Ball.
"Time to move faster," she said, a faint note of ease in her processed voice.
She recalled Azumarill first, then sent the Luxury Ball arcing out ahead of her and stepped off Gyarados's back without breaking stride.
"Roar!"
Salamence rose beneath her — its blood-red wings spread wide, catching the air — and she landed on its back as cleanly as if she had planned the exchange from the beginning. In the same motion, she recalled Gyarados.
"Salamence — Heat Wave, then go!"
Salamence answered with a roar, fire-type energy surging up and releasing in a broad, rolling wave behind them — a wall of heat that swept back across the pursuers, the dark sky briefly lit orange by the bloom of fire.
Then Salamence tucked its wings and drove forward, carrying Whitney out into the night.