“Now! I’ve got other challengers and you’ve got a journey to continue!” Wattson laughs, patting the young girl firmly on the shoulder and moving her toward the door. “Best of luck! At the rate she’s going, our partner’s going to be a monster.” The Joy, Amelia he recalls, grimaces at her excursion from his praise, but tries to cover it up. Saying the typical farewell platitudes to his wide smile and cheery wave goodbye as she makes her exit. Then the door closes, and Gilberd Wattson’s everpresent smile dims from its exaggerated public face to an expression of amused befuddlement. Running his palm over the bald top of his head, the gym leader looks up to the ceiling of his arena. “Twelve minutes to next challenger sir, first badge, skill class B2, trending upward with a 83% confidence.” His assistant’s voice echoes through the loudspeakers. “Would you mind hopping up onto the stands? We need to resurface the field.” Wattson nods in agreement, walking toward the gate leading to the stands as, from the opposite wall, a long bar slides out over the field and gets to work, lifting dirt from some areas and laying it down in others while sprayers retouch the lines. He chuckles as the machine reaches the craters and blackened dirt of the battleground proper and slows to a near crawl, dirt quickly being moved around and soot filtered to get the field back in proper shape. He has no idea how other gyms handle the workload without his gadgets, sure they’re not operating in the biggest city on the island –a fact he is still quite proud of– but they stillhave to deal with estimating the relative skill levels of every challenger in the pulsing rush of the gym circuit. To say nothing about field maintenance needing an entire mob of staff, his filtering and monitor system has saved him years worth of time and mental effort. Wattson runs a palm over his scalp again as he catches himself. Usually saves him time. “Are we sure Porygon2 isn't still upset with me about the whole… unpleasantness?” He muses, smiling at the nearest camera. “I didapologize, but the skill sorter keeps throwing up…” Alan sighs, the amplified sound echoing over the space. “Yes sir, the IT crew looked everything over, per your request, we’re just having a few more… outliers this year.” The Gym Leader snorts, rubbing his ear to clear the final bit of ringing from that chansey’s last egg bomb. There are more zero badge ‘outliers’ in the first month than all of last year, ranging from what would normally be generational aces to already evolved nepotism starters. But, according to all evidence, they’re ‘just that strong.’ For seemingly no reason. Wattson eases himself into the nearest seat with a groaning huff. That chansey almost seemed normal by comparison with how clear cut the situation seemed on the surface. A three ‘mon zero badge team, working together, might have been able to lift the glass strength filter if they had a few stronger members. Allowing them to move out of the zero badge assessment track and into the general assessment tests. It was halfway through the reflex and endurance test that the system flagged the ‘mon as a probable nepotism starter and brought it to his attention. Though surprising to be coming from a Joy, his system is designed to compensate for ‘mon that find themselves attached to unsuitable trainers. Watching through the cameras and seeing how they navigated the test was what convinced him to bypass the more in-depth assessment and send them to him early. Though not because of the chansey’s strength and skill, which –while strong– would just mean a disappointingly easy gym challenge from him. No, he brought them to him because it was clear that the ‘trainer’ wasn't behaving like a leader. The same reason that he never got to see their second ‘mon, because the chansey was acting more as a chaperone to her human charge than a partner. It’s a near certainty whoever was in that ball was caught wild and not strong enough to be considered a ‘real’ partner. With that in mind, his decision to send them to fight him early and use a custom combination of his three and four badge paddock in what he privately calls his ‘solo buster’ team was the only reasonable choice, to teach both of them a lesson his normal badge challenge couldn't. That coasting off of individual power cannot create the truly strong. That this won’t work. Wattson sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Alan? How many people are in the maze right now?” “Would you mind putting them on screen?” He asks, waving at the massive stadium display across from him. “And their highlights please.” Above, the screen flashes black, then changes to nine equal squares showing young trainers staring in confused bafflement at various points of his maze. A few seconds later, each screen switches to videos of their behaviors at key puzzles. It’s just unfortunate he’s still underestimated the chansey without the benefit of any footage of battles outside his arena. Despite the situation seeming to work out in the end. Wattson shakes his head ruefully. He can count on one hand the number of chansey he can remember who’ve attached themselves to a trainers team, much less be an offensivethreat. He didn't know they could learn egg bomb, and while he recognizes the familiar psychic wobble of gravity, he’s never seen it modified as a directable attack. Though it’s clear there’s good reason no one else is doing it, gravity is –by definition– not a subtle move, and the clear amount of focus needed to change and maintain the source point requires almost preternaturally good skills at prediction to hit something right at the peak of needing to focus completely on the move. Trying to pull her attention in so many directions means it’s both a miracle and a testament to her skills that Chansey managed to hit anything. All that extra mental strain for presumably less energy on an attack that now needs to be aimed, and can thus miss, nets in a marked disadvantage compared to the original variant. Interesting, but nonviable. The Gym Leader absentmindedly makes note of the boy on monitor two as he replays the second half of the last battle in his mind. He’d been quite frankly surprised that the girl managed to get through the confusion and her partner's uncooperative nature to start working together. More so that they managed to pull a victory without having to release her second ‘mon. Such a result that could have easily reinforced their current methods as viable instead of a major misstep. Thankfully, from how she’d consistently reacted to his complimenting her partner to the exclusion of the trainer, he's sure she understands the lesson he’d been trying to teach. Now it falls to the two of them to dosomething about it, and his fellow gym leaders need to test those convictions. Over and and over, until they’re the best they can be. “Gym Leader, two minutes to challenger.” Alan’s voice echoes in, cutting though his idle musings. “The system recommends team 1-2B.” “Alright, thank you Alan.” Wattson laughs, smile widening to its public form before he speedwalks toward his box as the pedestal holding a fresh set of ‘mon rises from the floor. Stepping onto the dirt again, he gives a wince as his knees and back make their feelings known about what he’s been doing, but his steps don't slow. There’s a reasonpeople consider this a young man’s game, and why he’s seen almost three generations of gym leaders come and go in his tenure. The Gym Leader feathers a hand over the balls as he comes to a stop in his proper spot, and in the reflection of those balls he can see his soul burning, illuminating his eyes from within with the same untempered blaze he’s seen in the mirror every morning since he was six years old. Even after so long, beneath all the tricks and gadgets he’s built around himself in the city he built. Across the room, the door opens revealing the next challenger as he steps into the arena, blinking rapidly at the bright lights and slightly awestruck to be standing there for the second time, challenging his second badge in the largest venue only after the elite four arena. Then Gym Leader Wattson releases a hearty laugh with a wide smile as those stunned eyes land on him. “Well! I see you’ve enjoyed my traps!” It’s dark again, and the gentle pressure on her mind has finally succeeded in quieting Tanya’s whirlwind thoughts. In here, her injuries are… less real, as if the damage exists outside herself somehow, film layered atop her and just as easily removed. From all around, emanating from the comforting dark, an unfamiliar song of love emanates with synthetic crackle. Like a forgotten vinyl record, the echo of a memory still holding power even as it’s removed of all context to why it was first sung. Yet, artifice and all, the love fills the infinite dark surrounding her, and injuries disappear as if they never were. Shortly after, the black disappears into blinding light. Tanya fights back a yawn as the familiar interior of a hospital fades into view, Mauville central. She’d not wanted to walk to the pokecenter only to be put into a ball to be healed, so she’d hopped into the ball almost immediately after the fight, as the closest pokecenter also happened to be where they needed to go next for their testing. As… unexpectedly draining as the fight was, they have a schedule to keep. Looking around, the ‘mon notes the nurse who’d healed her in the pokecare machine before something white blows in front of her face. Grabbing it, she grimaces as she pulls a large clump of wool off the side of her head. At least it’s not sticky anymore. She shakes her arm to get the fibers off her arm, fails, then shakes harder only for the clump to dissolve and for half of it to attach right back on her. From behind, she can hear Amelia holding back a laugh so she turns unimpressed eyes over to her partner, but before she can say anything the nurse shoves Tanya’s pokeball into her partner's hands and grips the trainer by her shoulders. “Alright! She’s healed! Work face awaaayyy!” She says, wiggling her torso and head. “Now! I saw the battle! That was amazing!” Amelia ducks her head and weakly tries to shake off her relative’s arms. “...Thanks Aunty Key.” She mutters, struggling harder. “Chansey did most–” “You predicting the electrode? Oh! I was on the edge of my seat! How did you–” If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. She’s interrupted as the door to the room opens, revealing an entire crowd of Joys and chanseys. “She’s healed right? No more patients in here? “Congratulations you two! I–” “I couldn't believe how–” Then the room is flooded in excited chatter and a mass of pink and white. After a few moments pass and the room settles, Tanya realizes she’s surrounded by chansey, pressing in on all sides and fussing at everything in arms reach, making quick work of the wool that’s still stuck to her. “I mean honestly, the cameras don't like to show closeups of ‘mon when they’re too beat up, so I knowyou looked bad.” One chansey says, pulling a handful of wool away and handing it off to another ‘mon behind her. “That Flaaffy girl had no right hitting you so hard…” The rest of the circle nods emphatically with their whole bodies, muttering similar thoughts as they work. “And all the electricity?” Another scoffs. “We can heal it, but that much electricity on a normal type could cause serious neurological damage!” More nods, and Tanya successfully fights back a yawn as her freshly healed body makes itself known. There’s too much to do today, she’ll sleep when she’s supposed to. “Oh no! You’re sleepy?” The ‘mon in front of her coos, reaching up to try and put her arms on both sides of Tanya’s face, prompting her to lean away. “Well we have just the spot for a brave battler like you to take a little nap.” “I’ll get you some food, you’re a growing girl!" Another chirps. “You’ve still got so much of this cute baby fat!" “...somehow…” A voice mutters from behind, only to be met with pointed shushing. At the mention of food, Tanya’s stomach rumbles hard enough it has her entire body rippling with enough intensity her body ripples like a water bed, and she’s forced to concede that, while sleep is off the table, getting a meal is necessary. The ‘mon suppresses a wave of embarrassment at the physiological response, and how everyone’s eyes glance at her stomach. Nodding in agreement, she stops resisting the group’s gentle attempts to herd her toward the door and allows herself to be led over to her partner. Amelia glances at her from within her own crowd of nurses, eyes overwhelmed as they’re led out the door. “–has too many in my opinion, but that's a good thing today.” Says a nurse, gently pulling on Amelia’s sleeve. ”Plus, it’s the middle of the day, so only the night shift would be sleeping in an on-call room.” “Aunte, I’ve got tests to do! Then I’ve got to start working with Aunt V–” “Oh psh!” Another nurse interrupts, fussing with her niece’s other sleeve. “Venessa can take a chill pill. We need an hour, at least, to set the test rooms up.” A nurse from behind opens her mouth but she receives a stern side eye from the rest of the crowd and it’s quickly closed again. “We’ll get you some food, you review a little, and when we’re ready you’ll be at your best.” A nurse says with the surety of an already decided issue. Another nurse holds up Taillow, the ‘mon looking around in a strange mixture of distress and pleasure as he’s getting a scratch under the beak from one hand and various kinds of treat being shoved in his face by several others. “You mentioned that Taillow needs some tests done for a nutrition and training plan right? The bloodwork and physical labs have slots open in a bit! I’ll take a look in the meantime!” The nurse holding the bird chimes in. “Least we can do for our little champion.” Says another. Amelia opens her mouth to protest some more, but the attempt stalls as a door opens and she’s –not unkindly– but firmly shoved into the space with Tayna hot on her heels. “We’ll be right back with some food for you both! Sit tight!” Then the door closes, leaving them in what looks like a bizarre mashup of hospital and hotel, made even stranger by a chest of draws, a crack in which reveals layers of nursing outfits, identical copies down the row. Looking around, Tanya catches sight of the mirror and notes the fluff covering her body has been completely removed. Amelia huffs fondly as she flumps down on the bed and tries to fix thoroughly ruined braids with her fingers. “...They’re family.” She sighs with a soft shake of the head. “Food sounds nice too.” Her partner's stomach rumbles again, prompting her to nod even as she pretends the physical reaction isn't happening. “Agreed.” Tanya says. “You brought your review notes?” Amelia nods, waving vaguely her sling bag on her shoulder. “Yea. I’ll grab it in a second.” She says, streighting her back as a thought occurs. “Oh. While it’s still fresh, we should talk over the battle, analyze it.” Tanya tilts her face, almost surprised that Amelia came up with the idea, then shakes her head. “Not until we have enough time for a full write up, ‘talking it over’ just averages out and distorts our perspectives. I’d recommend jotting down a few notes you think you might forget, then do a full write up when we have time.” Amelia blinks at the suggestion, squinting her eyes in thought, then half shrugs as she unzips her bag. “I… guess that makes sense.” She says, pulling out two pens and ripping a page from the back of her notebook before offering both on her way back to the bed. “Here, for your ‘fresh’ notes.” Taking the offered items, Tanya gets to work, and soon enough, food arrives, a plate of palatable looking hospital food for the human and a large bowl of pokechow for the ‘mon. Looking up from her meal as she tosses a handful of delicious kibbles into her mouth, the ‘mon watches her partner mechanically chew through some dry looking lasagna and doesn't envy the disparity in meal quality. In short order, the food is consumed and Tanya hops up on the bed, sitting beside her partner as Amelia places her notebook between them and opens it to the tabbed review section. “Alright–” She’s forced to pause for a yawn. “...we’ll speed review for the next forty minutes, time crunch here, so we need to focus up.” Tanya nods, scanning over the already memorized pages. With that, the two lean in, taking care to respect each other’s personal space and not touch as they begin. Ten minutes later, Tanya blinks slowly, holding herself above the grasp of sleep by the barest of threads, her f– partner snoring softly as she wiggles deeper into the ‘mon’s bulk. Assessment concluded, the ‘mon allows her eyes to drift closed, mind sinking to that space just above sleep as she keeps guard. Tanya quietly caps her pen before flipping though the pages of her test as one last check for errors. Technically she didn't need to do this test, as her natural healing abilities and the assumption that she’d be permanently working with her partner means she doesn't need the same set of certifications as Amelia to become a full nurse. However, as she’d already spent the past few months studying alongside her partner, there’s not really a reason not to get the full certifications. In fact, not requiring her to get the full certs seems like it’s halving the avaiable skilled worksforce, a clear oversight. Finishing her final review and finding it to her satisfaction, Tanya slips the stack of papers back into the packet it came in, peels away the release coating on the adhesive for the flap, and seals the envelope before rising from the low desk designed for her line. Amelia glances at her from across the room, her own test still open, followed by the proctoring nurse and chansey. “That was fast…” The nurse murmurs as she takes the packet, followed by Chansey taking a step forward. “Are you ready for the practical?” She asks, equally quietly. Tanya nods, and she’s led out of the room, down the hall, and into an equally empty adjoining room, though this one has a table lowered to a comfortable height with a red medical bag on it instead of two desks. Coming to a stop in front of the desk, Chansey holds up a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, “Alright.” She starts at a normal volume as she clicks her pen and looks down at her clipboard, then begins reading off it in a stilted monotone. “In front of you there is a first aid kit. In this test, it is important to prove you understand best practices for emergency stabilization after reaching exaustion. The instructor –That's me!– will verbally describe a series of injuries, you must describe how you would use only the materials provided to stabilize an injured patient. While the test is in effect, all solutions must be derived from the materials provided. Do you understand the instructions as I have given them?” Only after she concludes her speech does Chansey look up. Seeing Tanya nod as the bag begins to glow a faint purple. Then she stops herself, the mirroring glow in her eyes disappearing. It’s clear what the spirit of the instructions intended. Stepping forward, the ‘mon grabs the bag, slides it over, and unzips it to reveal the exact configuration she’d seen in textbooks describing the kit. “If you are ready, let’s begin.” Chansey states. “A mightyena has a bite in the leg, it’s swollen and you are told she vomited within the past ten minutes.” Tanya nods, looking over the assortment of items in the kit. Venom then, here it’s significantly less lethal than any other reality she’s been in, but vomiting means… She blinks, running though her options. No poison cures, several kinds of pill not fit for task, gauze, antiseptic– Lum extract, undiluted. “In the plastic measuring cup, create an emulsion of Lum extract and ethanol at a 1/63 dilution.” She says, pointing at each item in turn. “Apply a thin coating to the wound, wrap in soaked bandages, then retention bandages, followed by the patient drinking twenty milliliters of the emulsion. Wait ten minutes for response to treatment before assessment and next steps.” There’s a pause, then the scribbling of a pen as Chansey doesn't allow her face to show what she thinks of the answer. “Alright, next question. A beautifly’s wing is torn, it’s not bleeding and the tear goes around one third though the wing.” “Clean with water, disinfect with alcohol, then bind with two strips of sterile tape.” On and on, ten more variations of injury, requiring everything inside the kit at least once, until Chansey finally puts down the clipboard and pen. “Good job.” She says, pride shining though her attempted neutrality as she picks up a sealed scalpel. “Now, you need to–” She cuts herself off with a hiss as, in one smooth motion, she rips the protective sterile cover off the scalpel and runs it across the flesh of her arm. Tanya blinks, glowing arm halfway outstretched to the wound as blood quickly wells up from the relatively minor cut, then up to the pained but unpanicked eyes of her proctor as she stares back. The ‘mon quickly reaches over to the medkit and pulls out everything she needs to treat the wound. She was told to heal using the kit. Following procedure, it doesn't take long before the cut is disinfected and bound. Only after she’s done treating the injury does she look up to Chansey’s grinning face. “Almost got you there.” She smirks. “Goodness knows I messed up when I was your age.” Tanya considers how to respond for a few seconds as she repacks her kit. “I appreciate the compliment.” She says eventually. Chansey giggles, then holds out her bandaged arm. “Alright. Good work. Now, can you heal pulse for real? We’re almost done.” Tanya nods and, holding out her arm, calls on the power in her core, barely managing to hold back the overwhelming wave that responds to the gentlest request. Chansey squints as the motes of healing light erupt from her body, easily pulling away the wound dressing and picking up her clipboard before writing something down. “It’s not on the test, so I’ll tell you, but you overdid it a little.” She hums, turning a page. “Try to give like… half that to someone who’s actually unconscious. I know you’ve got enough to spare, but it's still good to learn.” Tanya nods, grumbling in the privacy of her own mind. With that, Chansey smiles, clicks her pen, and places the clipboard back on the desk. “Aaand we’re done!” the ‘mon chirps. “I’ll take you to the break room for your partner, she should be another…” She looks at the clock on the wall. “Twenty minutes.” Tanya nods, and as she’s led out the room and walks down the hall she can hear Amelia’s muffled voice in her ‘reciting’ tone from behind another door. As the ‘mon hops up onto a chair in the waiting room, she tries to take a frank assessment of her performance. It’s likely she passed, but there were several vaguely worded write-in questions that she wasn't certain how to answer both correctly and succinctly. The ending essay was… formulaic, but there’s likewise always a chance she misunderstood something. But, all in all, she likes her odds. But as the minutes roll on and Tanya allows herself to zone out, her semi-meditative state bureaucratic stasis is interrupted by the door opening after a mere ten minutes and an almost unfamiliar voice becoming audible just beyond. “...just be a few minutes Taillow, your trainer should be out soon.” A nurse says as she walks in, scratching the neck of the bird who looks as if he’s in a state of pure bliss. “But don't worry sweety, your teammate Chansey is here too!” The ‘mon twitches,eye rapidly opening and locking onto hers as he’s carried closer. “You were so good!” The nurse coos as she gently places her cargo on a table, next to some magazines. “I’ll be sure to tell your trainer how well behaved and healthy you were!” She says, grabbing a manilla envelope of papers from under her arm and waving as if to highlight it. Tanya hums in recognition. Someone did mention doing benchmark tests to determine a training plan. The ‘mon holds out an arm for the documents. “Would you mind if I look over those?” The nurse smiles widely, handing over the papers. “Of course you can hold them!” She cheers, masking the nonsense with enthusiasm. “Just remember to give them to your partner when she gets here!” Tanya keeps herself from rolling her eyes while the nurse hands over the papers, then makes a speedy exit as the ‘mon opens the file and starts scanning over its contents. Inside is the synopsis of an entire battery of tests, measuring every conceivable metric and, a few pages later, cross sections of a full volumetric scan with key areas marked and annotated. Tanya takes in the information with squinted eyes, trying to make sense of it using her incomplete knowledge of medicine. Thankfully, marked at the top in pen, is the note that these results had been sent to one ‘Aunt Taff’ as well, the same woman who’d worked with Tanya’s nutrition plan. But as the pages are gripped in psychic energy and freeze in the air before her, Tanya’s focus is disrupted by a hesitant voice from below. Fınd the newest release on novel★fire.net “So…” Taillow starts. “...What’s that? If you don't mind me asking.” He adds quickly. Glancing down at the bird as he cranes his neck to get a good look at the floating papers, Tanya releases a ghost of a sigh. “Some tests that measure various aspects of your health.” She says simply. “It allows us to determine a meal and exercise plan to ensure optimal health and maximize results per unit effort invested.” “...oh.” Taillow blinks, uncomprehending. At the sight of those eyes, Tanya releases a much more heartfelt sigh as she tries to figure out how to simplify. “This allows us to determine how much you can train safely, as well as what to eat and how much so you don't hurt yourself trying to work too hard. To make you stronger as fast as possible, without injury.” There’s another pause as the ‘mon seems to consider her words, then his eyes widen in realization. “...Oh!” He chirps, squinting at one of the cross sections of his body uncomprehendingly. “That sounds complicated.” Tanya nods, looking back at the papers and reshuffling them as she tries to determine why his iron levels weren’t flagged as alarming on this report. “It is.” She hums. “We’ll be getting the help of a specialist.” There’s another silence, longer this time. Long enough for Tanya to grab a pen from the table and start calculating some basic statistical estimations to outline a basic plan on a blank page before Taillow speaks. “You’re doing all this… so I don't get hurt?” Her writing stutters for a moment in thought, then continues as if it never happened. “In the most basic terms? Yes, you avoiding training injuries or vitamin deficiencies is –by definition– us trying to stop you from getting hurt.” She answers distractedly, speaking off the cuff as she tries to remember a taillow’s metabolic slope. “I have something similar, though it was only formalized recently. It’s helped greatly.” From the corner of her eye, Tanya sees her teammate looking up as if he’d never seen her before. “...I–” He starts, but Tanya inadvertently cuts him off as she finishes her thought. “It allowed me to push myself just before the point of injury and be assured I was eating enough to offset the effort. Though I couldn't get quite as close without the aid of a specialist like you’ll be getting now.” She says, jotting down the most basic outline of acceptable training before blinking and looking down to the ‘mon with an apologetic expression. “Sorry, I cut you off. You were saying something?” Taillow doesn't move as he looks back up at her, frozen with his mouth open and an incomprehensible mess of conflicting emotions running across his face. But before any of it can resolve, the door to the waiting room slams open. “I’m done!” Amelia shouts strutting inside with a bombastic flare. “And you better betI crushed it!”