"A cave entrance…"
Steven stood at a particular spot along Route 10 on Ula'ula Island, looking up at the dark opening cut into the base of Mount Hokulani.
He turned to the iron cross Pokémon beside him. "Let's head in, Metagross."
"Metagross."
Steven settled cross-legged onto Metagross's broad head, and together they moved into the cave. He clicked on his headlamp and adjusted his helmet, sweeping the beam across the tunnel walls.
"It looks like an ordinary cave passage," he observed after a moment.
Something about it bothered him, though. The edges were too clean, the surfaces too regular. The more he looked, the more certain he became —
"The stonework is artificial. This wasn't formed naturally."
"Metagross!"
The warning snapped Steven's attention forward. He blinked.
The walls ahead were covered in moss — dense, sprawling patches of it — glowing with a faint, steady blue luminescence.
"Some kind of Luminous Moss?" He studied it closely, reaching out but stopping short of touching. "Must be a local variety. I've never seen it this colour."
"Metagross."
Metagross turned and indicated a secondary passage branching downward from the main tunnel. The opening was narrow — far too narrow for something of Metagross's bulk to pass through comfortably.
Steven looked at the gap, then looked at Metagross.
"You've done enough. Take a rest." He rested a hand briefly against the iron X marking on Metagross's face plate, then recalled it to its Poké Ball.
He reached for a different ball. "Honedge — your turn."
Honedge materialized in a flash of white and immediately took in its surroundings with open curiosity, the eye in the hilt blinking as it rotated to take in the glowing moss. Before Steven could say anything, the Pokémon had already drifted toward the nearest patch and rubbed the flat of its scabbard along the rock face, picking up a smear of glowing blue.
"Honedge~"
Look, Master — I glow now.
Steven pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile. He pulled out a cloth, carefully wiped the moss from the scabbard, and crouched to meet Honedge's eye level.
"I know you can glow. But I haven't identified the composition of this moss yet, so let's not make contact with it for now. Alright?"
"Honedge~"
Understood.
Steven changed into the worn work clothes he kept for caving — durable, fitted, easy to move in. Then he picked up Honedge, tucked the Pokémon securely under one arm, positioned himself at the top of the narrow downward passage, and slid.
The descent was steep and fast. The walls blurred past in blue-lit streaks. He had chosen Honedge partly for the company, partly because if anything unfriendly was waiting at the bottom, a Ghost- and Steel-type made decent insurance — even if its raw battle strength left something to be desired.
As the slope levelled out and the hard ground rushed up to meet him, Honedge broke free from his grip and slipped into the air, catching Steven's descent just before impact.
"Honedge!"
Praise me.
Honedge was already spinning gleeful circles in the air above him, the eye in the hilt glancing down with unmistakable expectation.
Steven got to his feet and brushed the dust from his sleeves. "Honedge handled that very well," he said, with complete sincerity. "Quite grown up."
"Honedge!"
Obviously.
The lower passage was thick with the same glowing moss — denser here, covering the walls and ceiling in overlapping layers until the blue light was bright enough that Steven switched off his headlamp entirely. Turning it off seemed courteous. No need to startle anything.
"It's colder down here."
His work clothes had felt slightly warm at first. Now the chill was noticeable — the kind that seeped through fabric rather than cutting through it. Somewhere ahead, he could hear the distinct, rhythmic scrape of something sharp dragging across ice.
He rounded the bend slowly and stopped.
A group of Pokémon worked in the dim blue light — pale, almost colourless, with angular brick-like markings on their bodies and heads shaped like rounded igloos, the ear openings curved like small arched doorways. Alolan Sandshrew. A whole colony of them, each one methodically scratching at the surface of a thick ice layer with their claws.
"Goji…"
Steven kept his voice low. "The Alolan form. I've read about them, but…" He shook his head slightly. "They're something else in person."
Honedge had already positioned itself behind the rock wall, one eye just barely peeking around the corner. Steven put a hand on the Pokémon's hilt and gently drew it back.
At the centre of the group, directing the others, was something larger. Its body was the same pale blue as the Sandshrew, save for white fur around its belly and muzzle, and its back was lined with large, sharply tapered ice spines, each one catching the ambient glow.
An Alolan Sandslash.
Steven looked at it for a long moment without speaking.
"...That is objectively very cool," he said quietly.
"Honedge…"
Agreed.
He was already thinking about his spare Poké Balls.
But what were they doing? The Sandshrew weren't foraging — they were excavating. Working at the ice with purpose, as though clearing something buried beneath it. Some kind of coordinated effort the Sandslash was overseeing.
"Gupah?"
The Sandslash's movements stopped. Its head turned.
Steven pulled back behind the wall instantly, grabbing Honedge by the scabbard as he went.
You could see it looking at us. Why were you still watching?
"Gupah!"
The Sandslash's cry was sharp. A moment later, several conical shards of ice came cutting through the air and embedded themselves in the rock wall with a series of flat, solid impacts — Icicle Spear, each one leaving a neat circular pit in the stone.
Steven straightened and weighed his options.
He didn't want to pull from his main team. It felt unnecessary. But Honedge and his Larvitar were not suited for a Sandslash at this level — Larvitar was still young, and Honedge's raw power simply wasn't there yet. Any Pokémon from his main team, on the other hand, would end this before it became complicated.
He made his choice.
The Poké Ball clicked open.
"Lucario."
Lucario appeared in a column of white light, landed without sound, and opened its eyes. It regarded the Sandslash across the passage with calm, quiet attention.
"Gupah!"
The Sandslash roared — and the sound was followed immediately by something visible. A pulse of energy radiated outward from its body, and the air around it seemed to thicken. Steven could feel it even from a distance — a pressure, dense and heightened, like the atmosphere before a storm.
The Sandslash's frame expanded slightly. Not dramatically, but enough. Where a standard Alolan Sandslash stood roughly 1.2 metres, this one had grown past 1.6. Its movements were sharper, more deliberate.
A Noble aura, Steven thought. So that's what it looks like in practice.
The Sandslash didn't wait. It gathered ice energy between its claws and drove it forward into a dense pillar that crashed toward Lucario at speed — Ice Crash.
"Comet Punch."
Lucario stepped into it, drew back one fist, and drove it straight into the pillar. The impact detonated the ice outward in a spray of fragments that skittered across the floor and walls.
The Sandslash staggered. Then steadied itself. Behind it, the Sandshrew colony had pulled back, forming a tight, nervous cluster near the far wall.
The Sandslash charged.
It moved recklessly — claws forward, driven not by strategy but by something more urgent. Protecting them, Steven realized. The Sandshrew behind it. Whatever the colony had been working toward was still unfinished, and the Sandslash had no intention of letting it end here.
"Bone Club," Steven said. "But ease up on the force."
"Lucario."
Lucario pressed one palm flat to the ground, and a translucent Bone Club materialized in its grip — earthy yellow, almost amber in the blue light. The Sandslash's claws came down; Lucario caught the strike cleanly with the Club, redirecting the force sideways. Then it swung the Bone Club in a short arc and brought it down squarely on the Sandslash's forehead.
The sound was solid and unambiguous.
The Sandslash dropped.
It lay on its side, face contorted, one claw raised toward its head. The Noble aura flickered. After a moment it began trying to push itself back upright — but its legs trembled and failed to cooperate.
Steven readied an empty Poké Ball, aimed, and threw.
It struck cleanly. The ball sealed around the Sandslash and rolled to a stop on the cave floor, rocking back and forth.
Then it burst open.
The Sandslash tumbled out, still panting. It stood — for less than a second — before its legs buckled and it sat heavily back down on the ice.
Steven looked at it.
"...This is familiar," he said, after a pause.
Metagross, still in its Poké Ball, somehow felt implicated.
In that condition, you should not be able to break out of a Poké Ball. He tilted his head slightly. Are you taking lessons from my Aron?