(Interior — Pokémon Home Lobby)
The morning rush at Pokémon Home has become a predictable kind of chaos.
Orion Oak stands behind the front counter, processing a sale for a middle-aged man in a business suit who wants three Luxury Balls and a starter pack of Poké Blocks. The man has questions. He always has questions.
"Are they safe around children?"
"Very safe, provided the children are safe around them."
"And the Poké Balls — they don't hurt the Pokémon inside?"
Orion smiles. He's answered this one roughly four hundred times since the world transformation. "A Poké Ball is a resting space. Think of it as a very comfortable bedroom that fits in your pocket."
The man nods, satisfied, and taps his card. The transaction chimes through.
Orion watches him go, then glances at the line stretching toward the door. Twenty people deep. Maybe thirty. A mix of ages, backgrounds, and reasons for being here. Some want to buy Poké Balls. Others want to ask about the Pokémon they've spotted in Aurawood or the smaller preserves springing up across the country. A few just want to see Pikachu.
Latias handles the next customer with practiced grace, her human form's gentle demeanor putting a nervous teenager at ease. She explains the difference between a Poké Ball and a Great Ball, her voice soft and measured.
Orion catches her eye. She gives him the faintest nod.
We need more staff, he thinks. Not for the first time. The plan has been forming in his mind for weeks — a training program, maybe. People who understand Pokémon well enough to work the counter, answer questions, guide new trainers through their first purchases. He could expand to a second location. A third, eventually. Pokémon Home franchises, staffed by people who genuinely care about the creatures they're helping others connect with.
The thought lingers as he bags a purchase for an elderly woman who wants to catch a "nice, quiet Pokémon" for her garden.
He's mentally drafting a job posting when the front doors swing open and a familiar group walks in.
Valeria Richards enters first, Metang floating beside her. Her gauntlethas a fresh crack across the screen, and there's a smudge of soot on her cheek she hasn't bothered to wipe off. Behind her, Franklin trails with Ralts, looking like he hasn't slept in two days but grinning like he just won the lottery.
May Parker bounces in next, Joltik perched on her shoulder, its antennae twitching at every new scent in the lobby. Kamala and Doreen follow, Eevee trotting at Kamala's heels and Emolga zipping circles around Doreen's head.
And bringing up the rear, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, looking like they crawled out of a collapsed building. Which, Orion realizes, they probably did. Houndour limps slightly. Roselia rides in Ivy's arms, one of its roses slightly wilted.
The lobby goes quiet. Then it erupts.
"Is that—"
"Did they just come from—"
"Look at that Metang!"
Orion raises a hand, and the murmuring settles. He steps out from behind the counter, adjusting his tailcoat, and approaches the group with his cane tapping a steady rhythm against the tile.
"Well," he says, his eyes moving from one soot-covered face to the next. "You all look like you've had quite a morning."
Harley throws her arms wide. "Orion! Baby! You will not believe the day we've had."
"I think I might," Orion says. He turns to Valeria, his expression shifting to something more serious. "You succeeded."
It's not a question.
Valeria nods. "Zapdos is free. Hydra's operation in Aurawood is finished. Their bunker collapsed with most of their equipment inside."
Orion studies her face. The exhaustion there is real, but so is the quiet pride. He looks at the others — at Franklin's manic energy, at May's barely contained excitement, at the way Metang hovers closer to Valeria than it used to.
"I'm glad," he says simply. "And Batgirl?"
"Gotham," Valeria says. "She left right after we got clear. Said she needed to file a report."
Orion nods slowly. "Batman will want a full accounting."
"He'll get one. Barbara's thorough."
"Ivy." Orion turns to Poison Ivy, inclining his head. "Your Roselia appears to have evolved."
Ivy looks down at the Pokémon in her arms. Roselia meets Orion's gaze with a quiet confidence that Budew never had. "She evolved protecting me," Ivy says. "From an Alpha Aggron."
Orion's eyebrows rise. "An Alpha Aggron. In Aurawood?"
"Long story," Harley says. "Involves rocks, screaming, and me almost getting squished like a pancake. The usual."
Orion lets that settle for a moment. He looks at the group — really looks at them. These aren't the same people who walked into Pokémon Home weeks ago. Valeria, who couldn't connect with a single Pokémon in the Sanctuary. Franklin, who wanted something impressive and ended up with a Ralts. May, who was just a kid with a backpack and a dream.
They've been forged. Not just by battles, but by something harder to quantify. Trust. Partnership. The willingness to stand between a legendary Pokémon and the people who wanted to weaponize it.
He sets his cane against the counter and clashes his hands once.
"I want to throw you all a party."
The reaction is immediate.
Harley gasps. "A party?"
"A small one," Orion clarifies. "Here, at Pokémon Home. Tonight. Consider it a celebration of your first successful mission as a team."
Franklin pumps his fist. "Yes! Finally, someone recognizes our greatness!"
"We stopped Hydra from weaponizing a legendary Pokémon," Kamala says, her eyes bright. "That's worth celebrating."
Doreen is already pulling out her phone. "I'm texting the Titans. Well, the ones who weren't there. Robin's gonna be so jealous."
May looks up at Orion, Joltik mimicking her expression. "Can I bring my mom?"
"Of course. Everyone's welcome."
Valeria crosses her arms, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You don't have to do this, Orion."
"I know," he says. "But you went into a collapsing bunker, faced down Hydra's best operatives, and came out the other side with a legendary Pokémon's respect. That deserves more than a handshake."
He pauses, then adds, "Besides, Pikachu has been asking when he gets to see everyone again. The children who visit the lobby have been wearing him out."
From somewhere behind the counter, Pikachu's ears perk up. He pops his head over the edge, cheeks sparking with excitement.
"PIKA!"
Harley scoops him up without asking. "There's my favorite little lightning rat! Did you miss Aunt Harley?"
"Pika pika!"
Orion watches the scene — Harley cuddling Pikachu, Ivy examining the merchandise shelves with Roselia, Franklin and Kamala comparing notes on their Pokémon's injuries, Doreen already arguing with Tippy-Toe about the party playlist, May showing Joltik to a group of awestruck kids who've gathered nearby.
Latias appears at his side. They've grown, she communicates.
"They have," Orion agrees quietly. "More than I expected."
He looks at Valeria, who has drifted toward the counter. Metang hovers beside her, its red eyes calm and steady.
"Thank you," she says. "For everything. The Pokémon, the training, all of it. I don't think we could have done this without—"
"You would have found a way," Orion interrupts gently. "The Pokémon just made it easier."
Valeria considers this. Then she nods.
"Tonight, then," she says. "We'll be here."
Orion smiles. "I'll make sure there's enough Poké Blocks for everyone."
"And cronuts?" Harley calls from across the room. "You better have cronuts, Orion."
"I'll see what I can do."
The lobby buzzes with renewed energy. Customers who came in for Poké Balls linger to watch the heroes. Children press closer to see the Pokémon. The woman with the garden Pokémon asks Metang if it would be willing to visit her backyard sometime.
Orion returns to the counter, where Latias is already handling the next customer in line.
Tonight will be good, she communicates.
"Tonight will be necessary," Orion replies. "They've earned a moment of joy."
He glances at the group one more time. Franklin is trying to convince a skeptical customer that Ralts can, in fact, talk. Harley is arm-wrestling Doreen while Houndour and Emolga cheer them on. May sits cross-legged on the floor, Joltik weaving tiny webs between her fingers while a circle of children watches in wonder.
Valeria catches his eye across the room. She gives him a small nod.
Orion nods back.
The world is changing. And these young heroes — covered in dust, exhausted, bonded to creatures from another dimension — are changing it with him.
***
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