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The air in the secluded clearing on Route 210 was still, the only sounds the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant cry of a Starly. Cynthia had chosen this isolated spot for its peace, a rare moment away from the pressures of the Championship to think, to plan. That peace was now a trap.
Her silver eyes, wide with a dawning horror she had never known, were locked not on her assailant, but on the creature that held her in a crushing, sinuous embrace. Seviper. But not just any Seviper. This was a monster that defied all known biology, a serpent of such gargantuan, muscular bulk it made Alpha specimens look like Ekans. Its scales, a deep, venomous purple, rippled over coils thicker than Cynthia’s torso. The sheer power in its constriction stole the breath from her lungs, a relentless pressure that made her ribs creak in protest. It had coiled around her with terrifying speed the moment she’d stepped into the clearing, its tail—tipped with a cruel, glowing blade—having dragged a deep, ugly furrow in the soft earth as it struck.
“Ghk—!” she gasped, her arms pinned painfully to her sides. Her fingers, mere inches from the Poké Balls clipped to her belt, strained uselessly. Garchomp. My love, where are you?!
“Ah, ah, ah,” a cool, feminine voice chided. Aldith, the Team Plasma grunt, stepped into her limited field of vision. She was unassuming in her modified uniform, but her eyes were sharp and full of a mocking glee. “No calling for help now, Champion.”
With a deft, practiced motion, Aldith’s hand shot out. She didn’t grab the Poké Balls; instead, she produced a small, humming device from her pocket and pressed it against the capsule containing Garchomp. A sharp zzzt and a flicker of red light emanated from the ball before it fell dark and silent. A Poké Ball jammer. A simple, brutal technology that rendered a trainer’s greatest strength null.
No. Cynthia’s heart plummeted into a cold, black pit.
