Chapter no.34 True Fairies of Mt. Moon

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Vee's paws shifted restlessly as he tiptoed through the void of his dream—a desolate shopping mall stretched endlessly before him, silent and suffocating. The air was thick, heavy with an unnatural chill, and his every step echoed back at him, magnified in the oppressive stillness.

Shadows twisted on the grimy walls, distorted by the dim, flickering light that filtered weakly through dirt-caked windows. The abandoned stores yawned wide like dark mouths, their empty shelves stretching into nothingness. Vee's ears flicked at every faint sound—the slow drip of unseen water, the ghostly creak of the building settling.

Then, he saw them: mannequins. They stood in rows, their faceless, featureless forms frozen mid-step. Blank and unblinking, they seemed to watch him. Vee froze, his fur bristling. For a long moment, the only sound was his shallow breathing.

A cold breeze—or was it his imagination?—brushed against him, and his body tensed. He darted past the mannequins, quickening his pace, though the floor seemed to stretch endlessly before him.

At last, he found himself near heavy curtains, their edges swaying slightly in the stagnant air. He pushed them aside hesitantly, the darkness beyond swallowing him whole.

That was when he felt it—the snap of metal closing around his neck.

"EVE!" Vee cried out, but his voice was small, drowned in the suffocating dark.

A voice emerged from the blackness. Calm. Cold. Cruel.

"Hold still," it murmured. "This is for a great cause."

A shape materialized—first a shadow, then a figure in a blood-splattered lab coat. The latex gloves, the gleaming syringe filled with a sickly green liquid, the indifferent face of a scientist… It was all too familiar.

Vee thrashed, desperate, his cries growing frantic. Human, save me!

The needle pierced his skin.

He screamed—

And bolted upright.

The nightmare shattered like glass, replaced by the dim light of the living room. Vee panted, his chest heaving as his wide eyes darted around. Furniture. The soft glow of the moonlight. The quiet breathing of his team. The gentle rise and fall of Pikachu's chest as the electric type slept soundly beside him on a pillow.

He was safe.

But the fear didn't leave him.

His fur clung to him, damp with sweat. His heart felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest, and no matter how much he told himself it was just a nightmare, the lingering terror stayed, suffocating him.

He glanced around the room, seeking the familiar shapes that had come to mean comfort: the worn couch, the faint creak of floorboards beneath him, the quiet hum of the minifridge. His gaze finally landed on Austin, sleeping soundly in the corner. The boy's breathing was steady, his face peaceful, unbothered by the weight of the world.

Vee's heart ached at the sight.

Why now? he wondered, his mind racing. He hadn't had these nightmares in weeks—not since Austin. Not since the warmth of a trainer who smiled for him, who told corny jokes to make him laugh, who made him feel, for the first time, safe.

You stopped them, Human. So why now?

His gaze shifted to Pikachu, curled up beside him. The faint scent of medicinal salve lingered in the air, a reminder of the nerve damage the electric type had suffered in Mt. Moon. Vee's stomach twisted.

Pikachu had been hurt because of him.

The entire team had been hurt because of him.

And Vee? Vee was fine. Unscathed. The only one who walked away from that disaster without so much as a scratch.

The thought made him feel sick.

His eyes fell back to Austin, his trainer who was doing everything for them. Staying in Pewter longer than planned. Asking for favors. Strategizing ways around the mountain, all because of him. All because of Team Rocket's "special Eevee."

Would any of this have happened if I wasn't here? Vee's heart clenched painfully. The question hung heavy in his mind, dark and suffocating.

Would they be safer if I wasn't around?

The thought came unbidden, sharp as a blade. He tried to push it away, but it clung to him, relentless. The memories of his past—of the lab, the pain, the experiments—swirled in his mind like a storm.

Maybe I should leave. The words whispered to him, cruel and soft. If I left, they'd be safe. If I wasn't here… this wouldn't happen again.

But his body refused to move.

The idea of leaving twisted in his chest like a needle. He thought of the warmth of Austin's hand ruffling his fur. The sound of his teammates laughing. The way the small, broken pieces of him had slowly started to mend since he met them.

He didn't want to leave.

He loved them.

He loved this place.

He loved his trainer.

And that realization made it so much worse.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as he curled up tighter, his small frame trembling. He wanted to protect them. He wanted to stand by Austin's side. But the guilt weighed him down like chains, the fear that he was the source of their pain, their suffering.

He closed his eyes, but the tears didn't stop.

Why am I like this?

And in the quiet, surrounded by the safety he didn't feel he deserved, Vee lay awake, silently begging for sleep that wouldn't come.

---

Seymour the Crazy.

That's what they called him. Not to his face, of course—no one had the guts—but he heard them. He always heard them. The smirks, the whispers, the dismissive glances as he walked through Pewter City. It was easier for them to mock him than to face the truth.

Team Rocket.

The name alone made his stomach churn. If they were targeting Mt. Moon, the Clefairy tribe was in grave danger. To them, Clefairy weren't guardians of moonlit secrets or the heart of Mt. Moon itself. They were a commodity. Cute faces with price tags. The thought made Seymour's blood boil.

But anger couldn't fund a mission.

Seymour's research grants had dried up long ago, and what little money he scraped together wasn't enough to hire the kind of trainers he needed—the reliable, battle-hardened kind with Pokémon in the seventh grade range. They were too expensive. Instead, he found himself here, standing outside the Pewter Pokémon League, clutching a handmade sign.

"Hiring for a trek to Mt. Moon's heart, will pay 1000, who's ready to start?"

A thousand Pokédollars wasn't much, but it was all he had.

Most trainers passed by with a quick glance, their faces flashing with polite disinterest. Seymour tried his best to look approachable, but the hours dragged on, and with each rejection, his shoulders slumped a little further. The ones who did stop to ask never stayed long after he mentioned his plan.

By late afternoon, Seymour was sitting on a bench, feeling the weight of failure pressing down on him. His sign leaned against his knee, limp in his grip. He was about to pack it up for the day when a shadow fell across him.

He looked up.

A young trainer stood there, his hood pulled low over his face, the black windbreaker with red accents looking worn but sturdy. His sleeves were patched, his rolled-up pants dusted with dirt from the road.

The boy didn't speak at first, his eyes scanning the sign with quiet curiosity, his expression unreadable. Seymour shifted nervously, unsure if the trainer was mocking him or genuinely interested. Then Seymour noticed the Pikachu tucked snugly into a baby carrier across the boy's chest. It was lazily slurping from a ketchup packet, entirely unbothered by the world around it.

Seymour chuckled despite himself.

"Are you serious about this?"

Seymour straightened up, nodding quickly—maybe too quickly. "Yes… yes, I am."

The boy's gaze flicked to his Pikachu, who barely spared him a glance, then to the sign again. Seymour caught sight of a Rattata's tail sticking out of the boy's pocket, twitching in its sleep. What kind of team is this? Seymour wondered.

"When do we start?"

The question caught Seymour off guard. "You're… interested?"

"Depends," the boy replied, his voice level. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

Seymour hesitated, his hands tightening on the sign. His old habit of rhyming bubbled up, unbidden, as his nerves took hold. "Oh, straight to the point, quick to the task! Let's prepare, any questions you ask?"

The boy raised an eyebrow. "How long?"

Seymour blinked. "How long… until we're done?"

"Yeah," the boy said flatly.

"I need your help to capture a Clefairy and tag it."

The boy's expression didn't change, but Seymour could see the suspicion brewing in his eyes. "Tag it?"

"It's a tracking device," Seymour explained quickly, fumbling for the words. "It's harmless, I promise. Just a small attachment to monitor its movements. I'm not a poacher. I'm a scientist."

He dug into his pocket, pulling out his identification card. His hands shook slightly as he held it up, the memory of countless accusations lingering in his mind. "Certified," he added, his words rhyming again despite himself. "I study, I track. That's a fact."

The boy's eyes flicked between the card and the small tags Seymour had in his bag. Seymour braced himself for the inevitable: another dismissal, maybe even an accusation.

But instead, the boy nodded. "I believe you."

Relief washed over Seymour, so strong it nearly brought him to tears. "You do?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"Yeah," the boy said simply, adjusting the baby carrier as his Pikachu finished its ketchup.

"I just had a quick question. Why does poaching exist? Can't they just use a Pokéball?"

A valid question. One that caught Seymour off guard. Most trainers didn't think to ask that—they just accepted the reality of poaching as an ugly part of the world.

"Well," Seymour began, "the answer is simply money. Pokéballs cost a lot. And not just that—raising and catching Pokémon ethically requires time and resources. For some, it's easier to poach and sell Pokémon on the black market. And… many newbie trainers get their first Pokémon from there, bought by their parents because it's cheaper than going out, buying a Pokéball, or paying for a Pokémon ranch."

The boy nodded, his expression contemplative.

There it is again, Seymour thought, observing the boy closely. That odd mix of maturity and youthful curiosity. Something about him seemed old beyond his years. But Seymour knew better than to ask questions; his task was risky enough without probing into his only ally's life.

"Whenever you're ready."

"Alright," Seymour managed, his own voice steadying at last. "Let's get going then."

The route to the Mt. Moon tunnels was straightforward, but the security? That was a whole other story. After the Team Rocket incident, the Rangers weren't taking any chances. It wasn't long before Austin found himself standing in line, his stomach churning as he watched the thoroughness of the inspections. They weren't just checking for contraband or unregistered Pokémon—they were looking for anything out of place.

He tugged the brim of his hood lower as the line crawled forward. The tension in the air was suffocating, the kind of quiet that came when everyone was too afraid to make a scene.

"All Pokémon out for inspection!" barked one of the Rangers, a stocky man with a buzz cut and an expression that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

Austin's fingers tightened around Pikachu's carrier. The electric-type, still half-asleep from the early start, lazily opened one eye and gave him an unimpressed look. The dried ketchup on his whiskers didn't help with the intimidation factor.

"Nothing to worry about?" Austin muttered under his breath as he unzipped the carrier.

Pikachu yawned and stretched before hopping onto his shoulder. He glanced around the line, seemingly unfazed by the tension, before swiping a paw over his face to clean his whiskers. He even had the audacity to flick Austin's ear with his tail, as if to say, Relax.

The burly Ranger arched a brow as Austin stepped forward, Pikachu sitting calmly on his shoulder. "Whiskers still messy?"

"Breakfast got a little… enthusiastic."

The Ranger didn't laugh. He held out a scanner—a sleek black device with a flashing red light—and ran it over Pikachu. The machine let out a soft beep, confirming the registration. The Ranger's face betrayed nothing as he jotted something down on his clipboard.

"Next Pokémon," he grunted, gesturing for Austin to release the next member of his team.

Austin grabbed Vee's Pokéball, releasing the Eevee in a flash of light. Vee immediately shook his head dramatically, the blonde wig fluttering like a superhero's cape.

The Ranger froze. His expression didn't change, but the long pause as he stared at Vee spoke volumes. "Why is your Eevee wearing a wig?"

Austin's laugh came out more awkward than he intended. "I… uh… I messed up while giving him a trim. The wig makes him feel better about himself."

The Ranger's brow twitched. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like weirdo before turning the scanner on Vee.

Austin had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping back. Relax. No need to stir the pot.

The scanner beeped again, and the Ranger moved on to the paperwork.

"Registered Pokémon: Pikachu and Eevee," the Ranger read aloud, his eyes narrowing slightly. He looked up, scrutinizing Austin for a moment longer than necessary.

Austin kept his expression neutral, even as his mind raced. The rumors about a "special Eevee" stolen from Team Rocket were everywhere, growing more ridiculous by the day.

"You're clear."

Austin exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest loosening just a bit. He'd been careful, leaving Spearow and Rattata with Nurse Joy back in Pewter City to avoid any unnecessary questions. Less attention, fewer risks. Still, this felt like threading a needle with a Zubat swarm flying around his head.

As he stepped past the checkpoint, the Ranger's voice barked at the next trainer in line. "All Pokémon out. No exceptions!"

Austin glanced over his shoulder as he walked away, adjusting the straps on his bag. Security checks like this were going to become the norm, and he knew it. Team Rocket's takeover of Mt. Moon had shaken the entire region. The idea that an organized crime syndicate could hold such a critical location for so long was terrifying.

And if the rumors about the Eevee were true—if it really was some kind of experiment—it was only going to get worse.

He could already picture the headlines back home: Senate Hearings Demand Action Against Team Rocket, Enhanced Pokémon Threaten Global Stability, Mt. Moon Incident Sparks Fears of Organized Poaching Rings. The media loved to fan the flames, but underneath all the sensationalism, Austin knew there was real danger brewing.

How is this world going to react to Mewtwo?

As he stepped into the tunnel's mouth, the faint echoes of dripping water greeted him, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The cool air chilled his skin, but it was nothing compared to the weight on his mind.

He glanced at Pikachu, who was busy picking at his teeth with a tiny claw, completely unfazed. Vee trotted beside him, still strutting like a movie star with his wig fluttering in the faint breeze.

Seymour took a few extra minutes at the checkpoint, peppering the Rangers with questions about legal protocols and procedures. His nervous energy was palpable, fingers constantly twitching as if they couldn't decide whether to button or unbutton his coat.

As they moved deeper into the tunnels, Austin noticed Seymour sneaking glances at him, his fidgeting growing more pronounced.

"Do you do this often?"

Austin raised a brow. "Do what?"

"You have a multi-type team," Seymour clarified, though it was clear he was also fumbling for some kind of rhyme in his head.

"Can you explain further?"

"Most trainers focus on monotype teams," the scientist said, a bit stiffly. "It's easier—same diets, similar routines, standardized equipment. A multi-type team? It's more expensive. More complicated. Trainers don't usually bother unless they have a lot of resources."

That actually made sense. Austin had never thought much about it before, assuming people stuck to monotypes out of preference.

"Well," Austin said, "my sponsor is Professor Oak."

Seymour nodded like that answer explained everything, though his nervous energy didn't seem to ease.

Eventually, they reached a midpoint checkpoint deep in the tunnels. The scientist handed over more documents.

A Ranger inspected the paperwork, nodded briskly, and motioned for them to pass.

Once they were through, Seymour wasted no time pulling out a large, crinkled map from his coat. He pressed it against the rough tunnel wall, the paper crackling as he tried to flatten it out with frantic precision.

"Alright, what's the plan now?"

"Based on my research," Seymour began, his voice rising with excitement, "the Clefairy tribe avoids human contact. They gather atop Mt. Moon, basking in moonlight, their forms aglow in silver light—"

"Can we please drop the rhymes?"

Seymour stopped mid-recitation, blinking like a chastised child. After a moment, he nodded, his enthusiasm dimming slightly.

"Alright," Seymour muttered, "no rhymes."

They moved on to discussing the most likely territories to find the Clefairy tribe. Seymour pointed out several key areas on the map, rambling about moonlight patterns, magnetic fields, and energy concentrations. Austin listened quietly, letting him ramble as he cracked a glow stick to light their path.

The tunnel ahead was pitch black, the kind of darkness that felt heavy and claustrophobic. The faint green glow from the stick barely illuminated a few feet in front of them. Vee took the lead, his sharp eyes scanning the path while his ears twitched at every faint sound.

"Pika, pi?"

"No," Austin said firmly. "You need to rest. Vee's got it."

Pikachu sighed dramatically, flicking his tail and turning away like a moody teenager.

As they ventured deeper, the first wild Pokémon appeared—a Zubat, its wings flapping erratically as it dove toward them.

Vee didn't hesitate. He sprang forward with precision, landing a quick attack that knocked the Zubat out cold before it could even register what hit it. Austin couldn't help but smile. Vee was proving to be an absolute powerhouse, his versatility unmatched.

From what Austin had observed, Vee could mimic the moves of his potential evolutions—quickly adapting and hitting with just enough force to dominate opponents. He lacked the specialized boosts that came with an evolution's typing, but it didn't seem to matter. Vee was fast, clever, and relentless.

Pikachu, however, wasn't impressed. Austin caught the subtle flick of his tail, the way his ears twitched in irritation. Jealousy simmered beneath his calm facade. Pikachu wasn't used to being overshadowed, and Vee's growing skill set was clearly getting under his fur.

Austin sighed inwardly. He'd have to find a way to balance the team dynamics before it became a bigger problem.

"Where do you think Pokémon come from?"

Austin blinked, thrown off by the question. "What kind of conversation starter is that?" he muttered to himself. He vaguely remembered Seymour from the anime—something about wild theories and endless rhymes.

Seymour took his pause as permission to dive headfirst into his usual spiel. "Ever since I was young," he began, "I used to gaze at the night sky and wonder where Pokémon originated. I firmly believe they came from space!"

"Space?"

"Yes!" Seymour exclaimed, his eyes practically glowing. "And it all ties back to the Moon Stone! Deep within Mt. Moon lies a massive Moon Stone, which I theorize is actually a spaceship. It brought Clefairy—and perhaps all Pokémon—to this world!"

Austin forced a polite smile, trying not to crush the man's enthusiasm. "That's… certainly a theory."

Seymour's face fell slightly, his shoulders drooping. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Austin sighed. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but my sponsor is Professor Oak. I've heard a lot of theories from some of the top researchers in the world."

Seymour's excitement didn't falter. If anything, it seemed to grow. "Knowledge is a treasure meant to be shared!" he said, his eyes gleaming. "Theories are starting points, young man—springboards to uncover new truths."

Great, Austin thought, rubbing the back of his neck. That backfired.

He decided to change tactics. If Seymour wanted theories, he'd give him some. He could practically hear his brother's mocking voice in his head, "Alright, Mr. Pokémon Encyclopedia, go off."

Fine. Let's see how you like this, Seymour.

"Ever hear of Arceus?" Austin asked casually, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

The name caught Seymour off guard, and even Pikachu perked up, whiskers twitching.

"Arceus?"

"Yeah," Austin said, leaning in slightly. "Arceus is a Legendary Pokémon from the Sinnoh region. They call it the God of Pokémon. It's said to have created everything—the universe, the Pokémon, everything. And to help shape existence, it created three others: Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina."

Seymour's eyes widened. He was hooked now.

"Dialga is the Master of Time, Palkia rules over Space, and Giratina…" Austin paused for dramatic effect, "was too violent. So Arceus banished it to a place called the Reverse World."

Seymour's lips parted slightly, his brain trying to process it all.

"But that's not all," Austin continued. "After them, Arceus created another trio: Azelf, Uxie, and Mesprit. They represent Willpower, Knowledge, and Emotion—the foundations of life as we know it."

"I've never heard of these Pokémon before," Seymour admitted, his voice tinged with awe.

Austin chuckled. "They're just the beginning. Then you have Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza—the Weather Trio. Groudon shaped the land, Kyogre ruled the seas, and Rayquaza controlled the skies. They're so powerful that when Groudon and Kyogre fought, only Rayquaza could stop them."

"And the Regi Trio?"

"Regirock, Regice, and Registeel," Austin listed. "Plus their leader, Regigigas. He's rumored to have moved the continents themselves."

Seymour's jaw slackened, his mind clearly racing.

"And then there's Mew," Austin added. "The supposed ancestor of all Pokémon. Every species traces its origins back to Mew."

Seymour's expression shifted, and Austin caught a flicker of challenge in his eyes.

"Do you have any proof of all this?"

Austin felt his patience waver. Oh, so now we care about proof? He almost threw the question back at Seymour—what proof did he have that Clefairy came from the Moon? But Austin held his tongue.

He took a breath and thought carefully. Seymour wasn't being antagonistic—he genuinely wanted answers. For him, this wasn't a debate.

"I don't know," Austin admitted, softening his tone. "I heard it from someone a long time ago. But hey, I'm not a scientist. Evidence-gathering is more your thing, right?"

Seymour studied him for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"Fair enough," Seymour said simply, his voice free of its usual sing-song rhythm.

"Pika!"

"Eve!"

The sharp cries snapped Austin's head around, just in time to spot it—a Clefairy, standing a short distance away. For a moment, he just stared, caught off guard by how surreal it looked up close. Its soft pink fur, star-like body, and fluttering wings made it seem more like a creature from a bedtime story than reality.

"Seymour, close your eyes!"

The Clefairy froze, ears twitching as it stared at them, unsure whether to flee or fight. Pikachu, ever the quick thinker, sparked to life and used Flash.

His cheeks flared, releasing a burst of electricity that filled the cavern with blinding light. Even through his closed eyes, Austin could feel the brightness searing into the darkness around them.

The Clefairy squealed in panic, disoriented, as Austin shouted, "Mud trap!"

Vee didn't miss a beat. With a swift Sand Attack, he kicked up a cloud of dirt before immediately following it with Water Pulse. The mixture splattered into a thick, sticky mud, covering the Clefairy and further disorienting it. Vee lunged, pinning the creature against the rocky wall, his paws firm but gentle.

"Seymour, now!" Austin called out, still squinting through the fading remnants of Pikachu's Flash.

Instead of action, he heard Seymour mumbling.

"O starry sprite of moonlit grace,

Before thee now I bow my face…"

What the hell is he doing?! Austin thought, turning to see Seymour bowing, his hands making strange, reverent gestures. The scientist's face was alight with awe, like he'd just stumbled into a religious experience.

"Tag it!"

"Oh, right! Right!" Seymour fumbled for the tracker, nearly dropping it in his haste. His hands trembled as he activated the tiny device, a nervous energy radiating off him.

Before Seymour could attach the tracker, the Clefairy let out a shrill cry and released a flurry of pink hearts—Attract. The move hit Vee squarely, sending him skidding backward. The Clefairy wriggled free, shaking off the mud as its gaze darted between the humans, clearly ready to flee.

"Dammit," Austin muttered. "Plan B."

He reached into his bag and pulled out the Moon Stone he'd taken off some Team Rocket grunt. It wasn't large, but it was genuine, and if his fuzzy anime memories were accurate, this might just buy them a chance.

Holding the stone up, he lowered his voice. "You want this, don't you?"

The Clefairy froze, its eyes locking onto the stone. The tension in its body eased ever so slightly, curiosity overtaking fear.

Austin leaned toward Pikachu, keeping his voice low so Seymour wouldn't overhear.

"Tell Clefairy it can have the Moon Stone if it leads us to the Moon Cave. And mention that I am the guy who drove out Team Rocket."

Pikachu was confused by his trainer's request but nodded.

Turning to the Clefairy, he began chattering in their shared Pokémon language, his tone calm but persuasive.

Austin couldn't make out the words, but the Clefairy's expression softened as it listened, its rigid stance relaxing.

Seymour, still holding the tracker, asked, "What about the tag?"

Austin barely suppressed an eye roll. "Don't you want to see the mothership?" he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, meanwhile thinking over what this development could mean for him.

But when he glanced at Seymour, he saw something that gave him pause—genuine longing. To Seymour, this wasn't just a wild theory. It was a dream, a mission to prove to the world—and maybe to himself—that he wasn't crazy. Austin felt a pang of guilt for mocking him.

The Clefairy's gaze flicked between the Moon Stone and Pikachu, who was still speaking softly. Vee, ever the diplomat, padded forward and offered the Clefairy a berry. It hesitated, glancing at Pikachu for reassurance, before cautiously accepting the gesture.

Pikachu turned back to Austin, giving him a subtle thumbs up. Negotiations complete.

Austin's relief was short-lived as something extraordinary happened. The small wings on the Clefairy's back began to glow faintly, as if catching light that wasn't there. At the same time, the Moon Stone in Austin's hand began to shimmer, resonating with the Clefairy's aura.

"Fairy!"

Without hesitation, Austin handed the Moon Stone over. The Clefairy clutched it tightly, and before he could process what was happening, it swallowed the stone whole.

"Wait—what?!"

The Clefairy's entire body began to glow, enveloped in a soft pink light that pulsed rhythmically. Its small wings flared as it rose off the ground, floating as though weightless. Austin watched, awestruck, as it hovered in the air, its movements graceful and deliberate.

And then it turned and began to drift deeper into the tunnel, its glow casting soft shadows against the rocky walls.

"Follow it!"

Austin didn't need to be told twice. He and Seymour hurried after the Clefairy, their steps quick but careful as they followed their glowing guide deeper into the labyrinthine cave system. The atmosphere felt lighter, almost ethereal, as if they'd stepped into another world.

And that's when it hit Austin—the Clefairy tribe wasn't just hidden because of the cave's complexity. They could fly. Not in the flapping, birdlike way of Pidgey, but with a serene, effortless grace, as if lifted by some unseen force. It was no wonder they'd managed to stay out of reach for so long.

The Clefairy tribe's cave looked ordinary at first—just another damp, shadowy cavern with jagged walls and a musty scent. But as Austin and Seymour moved deeper, the space opened into something extraordinary.

In the heart of the cave was a massive hole in the ceiling, as though nature had carved out a window just for the moon. Moonlight spilled through it—not in thin beams but in a radiant, glowing cascade, bathing the cavern in a silvery brilliance. The air seemed alive, humming softly as though the cave itself were breathing.

And at the center of it all stood the crystal.

The towering structure was otherworldly, easily a dozen times Austin's height. Its facets shimmered like polished marble, a pale blue hue that seemed to drink in the moonlight and scatter it in a million tiny fragments across the walls. Smaller shards littered the ground around its base, like remnants of a celestial explosion. The light reflecting off the crystal painted the entire cavern in a dreamlike glow, accompanied by a faint, melodic hum, as if the stone itself were singing.

Surrounding the crystal were dozens of Clefairy, Cleffa, and Clefable. They huddled in clusters, their wings fluttering nervously, their eyes fixed on the intruders. The older Clefable stepped forward, their stances protective and wary, their gazes sharp.

Austin felt his muscles tense. He didn't blame them for being on edge—this was their home, their sanctuary. Any outsider would feel like a threat.

Seymour stood frozen, his wide-eyed stare locked on the crystal. His breath hitched, and for a moment, Austin thought the man might burst into tears. Whatever Seymour was feeling, it was far beyond awe.

Thankfully, their Clefairy guide floated forward, its wings still glowing faintly. It began to hum softly, a melodic series of chirps and tones, as if trying to calm the tribe. The Clefairy and Clefable listened intently, their tension easing ever so slightly.

Austin felt something tug at his pant leg and looked down. A tiny Cleffa waddled up to him, its star-shaped body swaying adorably as it blinked up at him with big, curious eyes. More Cleffa followed, each chirping softly as they gathered around him. Their pink, stubby limbs and round cheeks made them look like living plush toys.

Austin knelt and offered them berries from his bag. The little Pokémon squeaked with delight, eagerly snatching up the treats. One Cleffa hopped in place, clearly trying to get his attention. Its bright eyes and wiggling ears made its request obvious: it wanted to dance.

Austin grinned, the tension melting away. "Alright, little guy," he said, standing. "Let's dance!"

Seymour gave him a wide-eyed, panicked look, silently begging him not to ruin this. But Austin ignored him. He'd learned long ago that trust with Pokémon didn't come from keeping a distance—it came from getting involved.

"Shall we, Mr. Toupée?"

Vee's ears flattened as he let out a huff, tackling Austin lightly in response. Austin laughed as he sprawled on the ground, the Cleffa swarming him with concerned squeaks. He sat up and scooped one of them into his arms, tossing it gently into the air before catching it. The little Pokémon giggled, and soon the others were clamoring for their turn.

From a distance, Austin noticed an older Clefable watching him. Its gaze was sharp, its stance cautious, but there was a flicker of something else—curiosity, maybe even approval.

Pikachu caught Austin's eye. Using his usual charades, he filled him in: apparently, humans weren't usually allowed inside the sacred cave. It was forbidden. But exceptions had been made for Austin. The Clefairy tribe had recognized him as someone who'd protected their land and carried a Moon Stone with pure intentions.

Austin felt his chest tighten, even as he tried to keep playing it cool. He stayed on the ground, laughing and playing with the Cleffa as the tension in the cave began to fade.

Then, the Clefairy began to gather.

They formed a perfect circle around the crystal, their small wings catching the silvery light. This wasn't the chaotic hopping he'd seen in the anime—it was deliberate, ritualistic. Each Clefairy moved with precision, stepping forward on the tips of their tiny toes, their movements synchronized like a perfectly rehearsed waltz.

The moonlight seemed to cling to them, wrapping their pink bodies in a soft, silvery glow. Their wings fluttered in unison, creating gentle ripples in the air as they swayed and lifted off the ground.

The air grew warmer, charged with an almost tangible energy. The Clefairy's pink bodies began to shimmer, a soft aura enveloping them as their dance reached its crescendo. One by one, the light around them intensified, their forms shifting and growing until they emerged as Clefable.

Each newly evolved Clefable stood taller, their posture more dignified, their presence commanding. They glowed faintly in the moonlight, their wings larger and more radiant, and their movements slower but no less graceful.

Austin watched, utterly mesmerized. In the anime, this ritual had been reduced to a bunch of Clefairy bouncing up and down like hyperactive toddlers. But here, in person, it felt sacred. Reverent.

---

Seymour clenched his fists so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his palms. This is it, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. This is my chance to prove them all wrong.

For years, they had called him "Seymour the Crazy." Not to his face, of course, but he heard the whispers, saw the smirks. They dismissed him, ridiculed him, reducing his life's work to the ramblings of a delusional fool. But here, in the sacred heart of Mt. Moon, he would show them. He would uncover the truth about the Clefairy tribe and their celestial origins.

"I'm so close," he muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the glowing Moon Stone as if it held the key to his redemption.

Behind him, Austin knelt on the cave floor, surrounded by laughing Cleffa. The boy tossed one into the air and caught it gently, the sound of its delighted chirping echoing through the cavern. Seymour's frustration bubbled over. Doesn't he understand the stakes?

"Boy, stop this at once!" Seymour snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. "Focus! There's more to do here!"

The shout rang through the cavern like a whip crack. The Cleffa scattered, squeaking in alarm, and Austin turned to face Seymour, his frown deep and shadowed in the moonlight.

Before either could speak, the cavern fell into a tense silence. All eyes turned to the circle of Clefairy. One of them stumbled mid-step, its wings faltering as it collapsed to the ground. The glow of the Moon Stone flickered and dimmed, and the soft hum that had filled the air went abruptly silent.

Austin's face tightened. "Oh no," he whispered, his eyes darting to the fallen Clefairy.

Seymour's breath caught. He wanted to move forward, to help, but something kept him rooted in place. This can't be happening. Not now.

He took a shaky step forward, his voice trembling. "O great Clefairy Tribe, up high in your shuttle, reveal your craft—"

The rest of his words never came. A searing pain exploded across his jaw as Austin's fist connected, sending him staggering backward. Seymour hit the cold cave floor hard, his glasses askew, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth.

He looked up in a daze, his cheek throbbing, to see Austin standing over him. The boy's fists were clenched, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You don't have any shame, do you?"

Seymour blinked, his mind reeling. "What…?"

Austin jabbed a finger toward the fallen Clefairy, now surrounded by its tribe. "Because of you, that Clefairy couldn't finish evolving!"

The words hit Seymour like a second punch. He opened his mouth to protest but found he couldn't speak.

"I-I just wanted to see the space shuttle," he stammered weakly. The excuse sounded hollow even to his own ears.

"What proof do you even have that this—" Austin gestured sharply to the dim Moon Stone, "—is some kind of space shuttle?"

"I-I was looking for proof."

Austin's lips curled into a sneer. "Looking for proof? You've been screaming your theories like a lunatic without even trying to understand what's in front of you." He stepped closer, his voice cutting like a blade. "You're a pathetic excuse for a scientist."

The words were like daggers, each one cutting deeper than the last. Seymour's chest tightened as Austin continued.

"Look around you," Austin said, his voice rising with frustration. "This place—these Clefairy—it's beautiful. It's sacred. But instead of asking real questions, like why the Clefairy dance in the moonlight or why they need the Moon Stone to evolve, all you care about is proving some half-baked theory."

Austin's words hammered home truths Seymour had been trying to ignore.

"You're not a scientist," Austin said, his voice dropping to a cold, quiet finality. "You're a fanatic."

The cavern felt impossibly still. Seymour wanted to argue, to shout, to explain that he wasn't crazy, that his theories weren't just fantasies. But as he looked at the Clefairy struggling to stand, at the Moon Stone's dim glow, he couldn't deny the truth.

He had disrupted something sacred.

He wasn't here to understand; he was here to validate himself, no matter the cost. And in doing so, he had nearly ruined everything.

The weight of it all pressed down on him like a physical force, and for the first time in years, Seymour felt the crushing sting of shame.

Seymour felt cornered, like a hunted Pokémon with no escape. The whispers, the sneers, the mocking "Seymour the Crazy" that followed him everywhere—they all clawed at him now, louder than ever. He had to prove himself. He had to.

Then a sharp, high-pitched sound cut through his spiraling thoughts.

Zing!

A flurry of glowing stars embedded themselves in the cavern floor in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. Pikachu's Swift attack sparkled ominously as Seymour froze, his heart pounding.

"Where are you running off to, you idiot?" Austin's voice rang out. "Can't handle being wrong?"

Seymour whirled around, his chest heaving, his face hot with shame and frustration. Before he could stop himself, the words burst out, raw and desperate. "I can't be wrong, not about this! My entire career, my beliefs—they hinge on this truth!" His voice echoed through the cavern, and he hated how pathetic it sounded, like the last cry of a drowning man.

Austin didn't snap back immediately. Instead, he sighed—long, heavy, and full of something Seymour couldn't quite place. Disappointment? Pity?

"My father once told me there's no shame in being wrong," Austin said quietly. "But there is shame in staying wrong." He gestured toward the Clefairy tribe, huddled together, their soft eyes watching Seymour with a mix of fear and mistrust. "So what if your theories were off? Look at them. You've got a whole new mystery right in front of you."

Seymour followed Austin's gaze, and for the first time, he truly saw the Clefairy. The injured one still hadn't recovered from the disrupted ritual. Its wings twitched weakly as the other Clefairy surrounded it protectively. His breath hitched. He had been so consumed by his need to prove himself that he hadn't considered the harm he was causing.

"I've wronged them," he whispered, his knees buckling as the weight of guilt crashed over him. He sank to the ground, his hands trembling. "I'm nothing but a fool… a reckless fool."

"Yeah, you messed up. But that doesn't mean you can't fix it."

Seymour looked up, surprised. Austin's outstretched hand hovered in front of him, not with anger, but with understanding.

"I'm going to need Seymour the scientist right now," Austin said. "Not Seymour the Crazy. How do we help them evolve?"

Seymour stared at the boy's hand, the flicker of hope igniting somewhere deep inside him. You still have a chance, he thought, wiping at his damp eyes. Don't waste it.

He grasped Austin's hand, feeling the firm grip as he was pulled back to his feet.

"Let's get to work," Seymour said, his voice steadying.

----

"Pokémon evolution," Seymour began, pushing his glasses up with renewed purpose, "is triggered by specific catalysts—a reaction that releases an internal instinctual aura, causing a transformation."

Austin stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and focused. Good, Seymour thought. The boy is listening.

"For most Clefairy, that trigger is the Moon Stone itself," Seymour continued. "But this tribe is unique. Their evolutionary trigger has shifted from the stone to something more… environmental."

"What kind of environmental factors?"

Seymour paused, gathering his thoughts. "My hypothesis is that it's tied to the interaction of moonlight with the structure of the Moon Stone crystal. When the moonlight strikes the crystal at specific angles during a full moon, it generates a resonance—vibrations at a unique frequency that the Clefairy have evolved to respond to. This resonance creates a harmonic energy field that triggers their evolution."

Austin tilted his head. "Resonance? Like… sound waves?"

"Precisely," Seymour said. "Think of it like a tuning fork. When the moonlight passes through the crystal, the structure vibrates, creating sound waves at a frequency that interacts with the Clefairy's biology. Their wings and bodies are adapted to pick up this frequency, which acts as a catalyst for their transformation."

"So it's not the Moon Stone itself, but the vibrations it creates?"

"Exactly," Seymour said. "The Clefairy here have evolved differently from others. Over time, their evolution has shifted from direct contact with smaller Moon Stones to a process tied to the environmental effects of the larger crystal. It's an adaptation unique to this tribe, possibly driven by the scarcity of Moon Stones or the conditions within this cave."

"So… we need to replicate the conditions," Austin said, catching on quickly.

"Exactly!" Seymour exclaimed. "We'll need to refract the moonlight onto the Moon Stone using Pikachu's Iron Tail to amplify the resonance."

"You hear that, bud? It's showtime."

Seymour's confidence wavered as the plan took shape. The theory was solid, but the execution had to be perfect. He adjusted the angles on his calculations, sweat gathering on his brow. "Everything has to be precise," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Austin positioned Pikachu as instructed.

"Now."

Pikachu swung his glowing tail, reflecting the moonlight at the perfect angle. The beam struck the Moon Stone crystal, and for a moment, everything stood still.

The cavern filled with a low, resonant hum that grew steadily louder, vibrating through the air. The giant Moon Stone began to glow, its pale blue hue intensifying until it bathed the entire cavern in shimmering light.

Seymour held his breath as the Clefairy began to gather around the crystal. Their wings fluttered, catching the glow, and they moved into formation. The rhythmic hum shifted into a soft, melodic sound, as though the crystal itself were singing.

One by one, the Clefairy started to glow, their small bodies enveloped in the same pink aura from earlier. But this time, the light grew brighter, stronger.

Austin and Seymour watched in awe as the first Clefairy evolved, its shape expanding, soft curves elongating into the elegant form of a Clefable. Its wings stretched wider, catching the moonlight like a canvas.

The transformation spread through the group, each Clefairy glowing and evolving in turn. The cavern filled with the radiant energy of the newly evolved Clefable, their soft, harmonious cries echoing in celebration.

Seymour felt his knees weaken—not from shame this time, but from awe. He had spent so long chasing proof of one truth that he had nearly missed something even greater.

"This… this is incredible," Seymour whispered, his voice trembling.

Austin glanced at him, a small smile playing on his lips. "See? Maybe you didn't need a spaceship after all."

Seymour let out a shaky laugh, his heart lighter than it had been in years. "No," he said softly, watching as the Clefable danced in the moonlight. "I suppose I didn't."

"Do you have a spare PokéBall? I promise I'll pay you back."

Austin didn't hesitate. Without a word, he reached into his bag and handed over a PokéBall. The simplicity of the gesture—no questions, no hesitation—struck Seymour harder than it should have. He nodded, his throat tight with gratitude, and turned back toward the Clefable tribe. The PokéBall's smooth, cool surface felt heavier than it should, its weight pressing into his palm like a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.

The Clefable watched him with cautious eyes, their tribe huddled close. Seymour's heart pounded in his ears as he stepped forward. This wasn't the time for his usual rhymes or theatrics. This moment demanded honesty.

"When I was a boy," he began, "my grandmother used to tell me stories of a Clefairy godmother who granted the wishes of kind children." He hesitated. "I was enchanted by Clefairy, fascinated by their mystery and grace. But as I grew older, I saw how others dismissed them as 'fake fairies,' mocking them for their Normal typing."

He paused, bowing deeply toward the Clefable. "I wanted to show the world how extraordinary you are," he admitted. "But my methods… my obsession blinded me. I've wronged you, and I'm sorry."

When Seymour straightened, the Clefable who had led them to the sacred cave stepped forward. Its eyes shimmered with understanding, and a soft smile graced its face. Seymour's breath caught as it extended a hand toward him, and he held out the PokéBall, his grip steady despite his racing heart.

"Will you help me show the world your true greatness?"

The Clefable regarded him for a moment before lifting its hands, conjuring a glowing orb of light. The rest of the tribe followed suit, creating a sea of shimmering orbs that pulsed gently, filling the cavern with radiant, otherworldly energy.

Austin took a step closer. "What… move is that?"

The glowing spheres floated around them like tiny moons, their light casting a silvery sheen over the walls. Pikachu sniffed cautiously at the orbs, his nose twitching with curiosity. Meanwhile, Vee stood perfectly still, his gaze locked on the orbs with an intensity that suggested he felt something deeper—something beyond what the others could see.

Seymour's mind raced as he pieced together the evidence in front of him. The Clefairy of Mt. Moon weren't just Normal-types; they had evolved in ways no one had anticipated. This wasn't just a move. This was Moonblast—a Fairy-type move. A type not yet documented in Kanto.

The realization hit him like a thunderclap, his knees almost buckling under the weight of it. "They're not just Normal-types," the scientist's voice trembled. "They have a Fairy typing."

As if to confirm his words, the Clefable stepped closer, its gaze soft but resolute. Seymour held out the PokéBall, and the Clefable pressed its hand against it. With a soft cling, the ball snapped shut, its indicator light glowing red for a moment before fading.

The orbs surrounding them began to burst, each one dissolving into a cascade of glittering light. The entire cavern seemed to celebrate, the shimmering remnants falling like stardust. Seymour felt a tear slip down his cheek as he held the PokéBall tightly.

"I can prove it now," he murmured. "I can show the world that the Clefairy of Mt. Moon are true Fairies."

The PokéBall let out a soft ting, locking the Clefable's acceptance. Seymour exhaled, a deep, shuddering breath, as cheers erupted from the tribe around them.

Austin, standing beside him, looked more bewildered than ever. "That's great and all, but, uh…" He glanced at Seymour. "What's a Fairy type?"

"Something the world's about to learn," Seymour said.

"Seymour, I am serious. What's a Fairy type?"

---

Author's Note

Hey, everyone!

If you've been a Pokémon fan since the early days, you probably remember when Clefairy was classified as a Normal-type. Then Gen 6 came along, and bam—Clefairy was reclassified as a Fairy-type. That change got me thinking: what if I could weave that transition into the story in a way that feels organic and tied to the world?

Here's the idea: in the Japanese-continent regions—Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh—Fairy-types aren't widely recognized yet. It's not that they don't exist at all; it's more like Fairy-type Pokémon didn't naturally evolve or flourish in these regions. Sure, there are small, isolated pockets of Fairy-types, but no widespread species. Because of this, Clefairy is still classified as a Normal-type and is even mocked by trainers as a "fake fairy."

But in Mt. Moon, something unique has happened. Thanks to the giant Moon Stone, the Clefairy tribe here evolved differently. They're true Fairy-types now. This change gives Seymour a new, more meaningful purpose. Instead of just chasing a wild theory, he's out to prove to the world that these "true fairies" of Kanto exist.

I also wanted this to connect to Austin's journey. Back in chapter one, Austin was watching the black-and-white anime (set in the Gen 5 timeline). That means he doesn't know about Fairy-types, Mega Evolution, Z-Moves, Gigantamax, Terastallization, or anything from Gen 6, 7, 8, and 9. This chapter felt like the perfect opportunity to introduce the idea of Fairy-types and hint at how the Pokémon world evolves over time, just like the games did.

What did you think of Seymour in this chapter? I tried to make him more nuanced, like I did with characters such as Samurai Boy in the Viridian Forest arc. Did it land for you? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Oh, and if you're curious about the sound the Moon Stone was making during the Clefairy scene, I was inspired by the Hollow Knight: Crystal Peak soundtrack. If you want to get the vibe I was going for, check it out on YouTube—it's eerie but stunning.

Thank you so much for reading and supporting my work! Your feedback means the world to me and keeps me motivated. Can't wait to hear what you all think.

Have an amazing day!