The Seviper purred, a deep vibration that shook Cynthia to her core. Aldith laughed. “He agrees! He’s still savoring you, you know. Your tall frame… so much rich, nutritious meat. A week-long feast. And Diantha… she’s softer, I think. More delicate. A different flavor profile. Sevvy is going to have such a varied diet.”

No… no… no… Cynthia’s mind chanted the word, a desperate, silent prayer. Her thoughts spiraled. Dawn… she’ll be alone. They’ll come for her next. All my Pokémon… locked in their balls… what will Plasma do with them? My grandmother… the people of Sinnoh… I failed them all. I’m not a martyr. I’m a cautionary tale. The champion who was eaten alive.

Time lost meaning. It was measured in pulses of pain, in the slow, relentless softening of her own body under the chemical assault. She drifted in and out of a feverish half-sleep, haunted by visions of Diantha’s smile, of Dawn’s determined eyes, of her Garchomp’s fierce roar now silenced forever.

Then, movement.

The Seviper shifted. Cynthia felt herself sloshing heavily within the stomach, the walls gripping her tighter as the great serpent began to move. Through the muffling layers of muscle and scale, she heard the crunch of leaves, the snap of twigs. They were traveling.

Where? Why?

Hours seemed to pass. The internal environment grew slightly cooler. Fresh air, faint but unmistakable, filtered in somehow. The Seviper had stopped. Cynthia heard Aldith’s voice again, crisp and commanding.

“Set her down here, my beauty. Gently now. We have a guest arriving.”

The pressure around Cynthia shifted. The Seviper was uncoiling, lying out along what felt like a cool, stone floor. The stomach, still churning relentlessly, was now positioned such that one side was pressed against the ground. A new sound reached her—the distant, rhythmic crash of waves. A cave by the sea?

Then, a new voice. Female. Elegant.