The soft rustling of leaves is the first thing I hear as I wake up. The air inside the tent is warm, insulated enough that the lingering chill of the night never quite reaches me.
I blink the sleep from my eyes and sit up, running a hand through my hair. Outside, I can hear the gentle hum of nature. The distant chirps of bird Pokémon, the occasional rustle in the undergrowth.
I shift aside the thin sleeping bag and roll my shoulders, stretching out the stiffness. I had difficulty getting a full night's rest, yet my body still carries that instinctual tension; an awareness that never fully fades when sleeping in the wild. Even with nothing disturbing my camp, my mind never lets me forget that this world isn't as simple as a game anymore.
Unzipping the tent, I step outside, letting the crisp morning air wash over me. The sky is still painted in soft pastels, the sun barely cresting the horizon. I take a slow breath, scanning the area. No signs of disturbance. The Repel I sprayed around the tent did its job, keeping away anything small or curious.
But I didn't rely on Repel alone. The location of my campsite mattered just as much. I set up far enough from Bewilder Forest; far enough that nothing aggressive or territorial would wander too close.
Camping in the wild isn't like the anime. There's no guarantee a trainer won't wake up to an unexpected visitor if they don't prepare properly. This first night was nerve-wracking despite Paul's instincts assuring me that I would be fine. My mind remained hyper-aware of every sound outside the tent, keeping me restless.
But now, standing here with the sun rising, I recognize that some of those fears were… exaggerated.
If something had approached, my team would have known. Pokémon don't lose all awareness inside their Poké Balls. If I were in danger, they would have reacted before I even had time to panic.
I glance toward the treeline in the distance, where the forest looms quiet and undisturbed. Last night, I felt the weight of it—how close it was, how anything could be watching from the darkness beyond. Now, in the daylight, it's easier to see it for what it is: another challenge. A place I'll step into soon enough.
I exhale, grabbing my canteen and splashing cold water onto my face. The chill jolts me fully awake, washing away any lingering drowsiness. With practiced efficiency, I go through my morning routine: brushing my teeth, stretching, rolling up my sleeping bag, packing everything away.
By the time I finish, the sun has risen a little higher, its warmth chasing away the last of the morning chill. My stomach grumbles, a firm reminder that I need to eat. I'll need the energy as much as my Pokémon.
I kneel by my bag, sorting through the supplies I packed. My Pokémon fought well yesterday, but today's training will push them harder than ever.
Breakfast comes first.
__________
Before we start gravity training, I take a moment to face my team.
I want them to be ready—to understand exactly what this means.
They always give their best, but this is different. A new step. A new challenge. Something that, if we master it, could push us to the very top.
I take a deep breath, glancing between them. Chimchar watches me, eyes bright with curiosity. Larvitar stands steady, her gaze sharp, locked onto mine with quiet determination. Elekid shifts his weight, rolling a shoulder, sparks flickering along his arms.
I meet their gaze. "Listen. One day, I will become the Champion."
Chimchar twitches, his tail flame sparking slightly. Larvitar exhales, low and steady, her expression firm. Elekid's sparks crackle, just a bit louder.
"But I won't get there alone," I continue. "I need all of you to become the very best."
Chimchar shifts forward slightly, ears twitching. Larvitar straightens. Elekid crosses his arms, tilting his head.
The words come easily—because I mean them.
"You all have incredible potential."
Chimchar's tail flares brighter. Larvitar holds my gaze, unwavering. Elekid exhales, sparks flickering between his horns.
They're with me. Completely. But there's still more they need to hear.
"In time, you'll grow stronger than you ever thought possible," I tell them. "But this training won't be easy. Gravity isn't just another move. It's going to push your limits, wear you down, test your endurance, your control, your strength. It will force you to adapt."
Elekid scoffs, but there's no real bite behind it. Larvitar's gaze flickers toward him before settling back on me. Chimchar tightens his fists.
"It'll be the toughest thing you've ever done."
For a moment, there's silence. Chimchar's tail dips, just slightly. Larvitar exhales, slow and measured. Elekid shifts his stance, sparks crackling softer now.
I step forward, lowering my voice just enough.
"Hey… relax. You're my team."
Their eyes lift to mine.
"I know you can do this," I say, steady and certain. "Just give it everything you have. And no matter what happens, I'll always be proud of you."
"Of course, we'll take it one step at a time," I continue. "When you're ready, you'll move to the next level. But it won't be easy."
For a second, the world feels still.
Then, Chimchar's tail flame flares to life.
Larvitar plants her feet, shoulders squared, her gaze burning with resolve.
Elekid huffs, rolling his shoulders again, but there's a fire in his stance now, his sparks crackling with renewed energy.
And for just a moment—I swear I can understand them perfectly.
Not just through body language. Not just through instinct.
Our wills are perfectly aligned.
We all want the same thing.
The only Pokémon Paul ever felt this way toward was Torterra. But even then, he never let himself acknowledge it.
But now… I do.
I straighten, nodding once. "Let's get started."
__________
Dusclops raises both hands, his single red eye pulsing with eerie light. The air hums, and then—
A weight crashes down on the earth.
I watch from a safe distance as the gravity field expands outward in an unseen force, warping the very air around it. The grass flattens, pressed down by an invisible force. A few loose leaves caught in the shift plummet straight to the ground, as if something yanked them out of the air. Even the dust in the air settles faster than it should, as the world itself has grown heavier.
It's heavy. Oppressive.
And I'm about to step right into it.
I turn to Alakazam, who watches the scene unfold with a neutral expression. His mind is sharp enough to already know what I'm thinking, but I say it anyway.
"I'll be relying on you," I tell him. "If any of us are in danger, we're counting on you to get us out. If it looks like we can't handle it, if it looks like we're about to get seriously hurt—you use Psychic and pull us out. No hesitation."
Alakazam doesn't nod, doesn't give any outward reaction, but I know he understands.
I take a slow breath and turn back to my team. I step forward, leading them right up to the edge of the gravity field.
They're all focused on the gravity field ahead. Chimchar shifts on his feet, tail flickering with anticipation. Elekid clenches his fists, tiny sparks crackling between his fingers. Larvitar stands firm, eyes narrowed in concentration.
They're ready.
I could stand here and observe. Monitor their progress. Call out orders like any other trainer would. But… something about that doesn't sit right with me.
The humans of this world are stronger than normal people from my world. That's just a fact.
So for this first session—just this once—I decide I won't just be watching.
I take a slow breath and step forward.
The field around me grows dense, an invisible weight pressing down from all sides. The air itself feels heavier, thick like a storm about to break. Even the distant rustling of trees seems muted, like the entire world is being dragged downward.
This is what intensified gravity feels like.
I feel the weight press down on me.
It slams into my body like an anchor dragging me down.
My limbs protest instantly, a sharp, unnatural heaviness settling into my muscles. I push forward, but every step demands more effort than it should. Even my breathing feels different, as if my lungs have to work harder to draw in air.
My palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy—
God, what the hell am I even thinking about right now?
I grit my teeth and plant my feet, forcing my back straight. The effort just to stand still is brutal.
But I stay upright.
A glance at my team tells me everything. I've caught their attention.
Then, as if emboldened by my presence, they step in.
They feel it too. Their movements shift immediately. Chimchar's quick, energetic steps turn sluggish and deliberate. Elekid's sparks crackle erratically as he adjusts. Larvitar steadies her footing, lowering her center of gravity to counteract the weight.
But compared to me? They're handling it far better. Their bodies are naturally stronger than mine, adapted for physical strain in ways no human could ever match.
I exhale, steadying myself. "Alright, guys. We'll start easy. You look like you're handling this well enough. You'll run a few laps inside the field."
I roll my shoulders, already feeling the burn creeping in.
"It's not that easy for me, so I'll walk," I admit. "But I'll be right by your side."
They don't need more encouragement. Chimchar takes off first, though he quickly realizes he can't move at his usual speed. Elekid follows, his steps more controlled than before. Larvitar starts last, but once she finds her rhythm, she doesn't slow.
The laps are steady. Slow at first, as they get used to the weight. I trudge along behind them, every step a battle against the invisible weight pressing down on me.
But I don't stop.
I'm not training like them.
I'm here to show them that I won't ask them to endure something I wouldn't face myself.
Next, I move them to push-ups and sit-ups. Basic strength exercises. It slows them down, The added gravity forces them to work harder, slowing them down. But they push through, adapting.
I… struggle. Badly.
Gravity presses down on every movement. My arms tremble. My core burns. Sweat drips from my forehead, not just from exertion, but from the sheer effort of fighting against the force weighing me down.
Still, I last about half an hour before my muscles start screaming at me to stop.
And that's fine.
This wasn't my training. I was just here to show solidarity.
I push myself to my feet, forcing my back straight despite the dull ache settling into my limbs. "Alright, guys," I call out. "You're warmed up. Now you can really start kicking it up a notch."
I glance at Alakazam, raising a hand. "Take me out."
With barely a flicker of effort, a soft blue glow surrounds me, and suddenly, I'm weightless, floating effortlessly out of the gravity field before being set down outside its edge.
I roll my shoulders, stretching slightly as the crushing weight vanishes. The contrast is jarring. Standing here, everything feels too light, my movements almost unnaturally easy.
I glance at Alakazam, who is giving me a very long, pointed stare.
A sharp, unimpressed stare, like he can't comprehend why I willingly put myself through that. Like I'm an idiot.
The look on his face says everything. Why did you even bother?
I exhale, shaking my head with a smirk. "Yeah, yeah, I get it."
He doesn't need to understand.
I glance back at my team. At the way they keep pushing forward. At the determination burning in their eyes.
Because this?
This was worth it.
__________
The Gravity field pressed down on the clearing, warping the air itself, distorting the usual rhythm of movement. I rolled out my shoulders, still adjusting to the sudden weightlessness outside of it. My muscles ached, my breathing was heavier than I wanted it to be, but I ignored it. My focus wasn't on myself anymore.
Chimchar, Elekid, and Larvitar stood at the center of the field, moving and adjusting.
Without having me there to hold them back they could really start pushing themselves.
I stepped just to the edge of the field. "Alright," I called out, my voice cutting through the thick air. "You're warmed up. Now it's time to increase the intensity."
They reacted immediately, eyes snapping toward me.
"Sprints first," I said, firm and measured. "I want you at your top speed, or as close as you can get under this weight. Don't just push through it. Learn to move with it. Control your footing, keep your balance, and don't waste energy fighting the force head-on."
A brief pause. Then, without hesitation, they took off.
Larvitar moved first. Unlike the others, she wasn't trying to force speed. She dug her heels in, keeping a steady rhythm rather than struggling against the weight. Her pace was slower, but her form was solid and grounded.
Elekid followed, sparks crackling off his body. He pumped his arms too hard, overcompensating for the weight dragging him down. Electricity flared off of him in erratic bursts, a clear sign he was burning too much energy forcing speed instead of refining his movement.
Chimchar, usually the fastest, was struggling the most. His quick, effortless movements had turned stiff, weighed down. But he refused to slow.
I watched closely, analyzing every movement.
Elekid's sparks flared wildly, erratic with every step. He was forcing raw power into his movements, overcorrecting instead of refining.
"Elekid! Stop relying on brute force. Control your output! You don't need to push with every step, just maintain your pace."
He exhaled sharply, adjusting his stance. The wild bursts of electricity lessened. His movements weren't perfect yet, but they were sharper and more efficient.
Chimchar was overcompensating. His legs worked overtime, but he was burning through stamina too fast.
"Chimchar! Stop fighting it—move with it! Keep your core steady, smooth out your strides."
He gritted his teeth and adjusted. His steps became less erratic, his movements more controlled. His speed didn't increase, but he was wasting less energy.
Better.
Larvitar was handling it the best. Her movements were deliberate, her weight shifted low, using the extra gravity to ground herself rather than struggling against it.
But she was holding back.
"Larvitar! You've got control down, but now push! Start adding power into your steps. Don't just move—move with force."
Her red eyes flickered with determination. Then, her next step landed with more weight, a slight indent pressing into the dirt. Not enough to count as a true Stomping Tantrum, but enough to show she was applying power.
That's it.
"Good! Keep at it. You're getting there!"
The three of them kept moving, each one adjusting, improving with every lap. Their forms weren't perfect, but they were adapting—learning to move with the pressure, not against it.
I crossed my arms, nodding slightly to myself.
This was just the first step. There was still a long way to go.
"Alright, that's enough sprinting." I raised a hand, and the three of them slowed, each one catching their breath. Elekid rolled his shoulders, Chimchar wiped sweat from his brow, and Larvitar shook dust from her scales.
"Next: Jumps!"
"Your goal is to jump as high as possible. You'll feel heavier, but don't let that stop you. Use it. Push against the ground with everything you've got, and keep your form tight. No wasted movement."
They nodded and stepped into position.
Elekid went first. He stomped once, gathering energy, then bent his knees—but as he jumped, electricity flared wildly from his body. He barely lifted off the ground before Gravity forced him back down.
"You're wasting power again," I said, voice firm but even. "You don't need to burn excess energy just to jump. Keep your electricity in check and focus on your technique."
Elekid huffed and nodded. His next jump was less erratic. He didn't get much higher than before, but at least he wasn't bleeding power unnecessarily.
Larvitar followed.
She didn't rush. She analyzed. I could see the gears turning in her head as she studied Elekid. Then, with a sharp inhale, she lowered herself and pushed off the ground.
Her jump was the most controlled. Not high, but stable. She landed smoothly, barely needing to adjust her footing.
Still, I wanted more.
"Larvitar. Good control, but you're still holding back." My gaze sharpened. "You have a ton of innate power. You have to use it."
She exhaled slowly, then stomped down just before takeoff. The ground cracked beneath her, and this time, she rose just a little higher.
That's it.
Chimchar was last. He bent his knees, tail flame flaring as he sprang upward—but Gravity dragged him down almost instantly. He barely made it a foot off the ground before landing, crouched low.
He clicked his tongue in frustration.
"Don't just jump blindly," I said. "Use your momentum. Coordinate your arms and legs, and explode upward."
Chimchar inhaled sharply, resetting his stance. This time, he coordinated his arms and legs, pushing off with more control. The jump was still stiff, still held back by the weight, but it was higher. Not perfect, but better.
Once I was satisfied, I moved to the next phase.
"Alright. We're practicing attacks now."
Larvitar's eyes flickered with focus. Chimchar perked up. Elekid cracked his knuckles. All of them were ready for something more.
"Larvitar—Rock Slide."
Even under increased pressure, she could still summon rocks with ease. But that wasn't the goal.
"Less power, more precision. You can crush anything you hit, but can you control where the rocks fall?"
She narrowed her eyes. The next time she summoned a Rock Slide, I pointed to a specific area.
"Drop them there."
She adjusted, and while not perfect, the rocks landed closer to the intended spot. She was learning.
"Elekid—Thunder Punch."
Gravity made his swings sluggish. To compensate, he started forcing more electricity into his punches. That's not good.
"Elekid, don't overpower it. Adjust your form. Use your whole body, not just your arms."
He exhaled sharply, nodding. His next swing was different. Not just a wild punch, but a full-body motion. More force, less wasted movement. Progress.
"Chimchar—Flame Wheel."
The added pressure kept him from curling into his usual spin at first, his flames flickering unevenly. But after a few more tries—after learning to adjust midair, he finally broke through. His spins tightened, his flames burned stronger, and when he landed, it wasn't clumsy. It was controlled.
They were learning. Adapting. Growing.
But they're not done improving.
__________
The moment I noticed their movements slowing, their breaths coming heavier than before, I knew it was time to stop. They'd pushed themselves hard, exactly what I wanted. But pushing past their limit and into exhaustion? That was a mistake I wouldn't make.
"Dusclops." I turned to him, my voice steady. "You can stop now."
Dusclops gave a slow nod, his eye pulsing faintly as he ceased actively maintaining Gravity. The field wouldn't collapse instantly, the force would linger for a little longer before fully fading—but the pressure was already starting to ease.
Even still, I wasn't going to make them wait.
"Alakazam," I called next, already knowing he'd anticipated my request. "Help them out."
Without a word, Alakazam raised both spoons, his eyes flashing with a soft blue glow. Psychic energy wrapped around Chimchar, Elekid, and Larvitar, lifting them effortlessly off the ground and carrying them smoothly out of the gravity field.
The instant they were free of its pull, their reactions varied.
Chimchar stretched immediately, shaking out his limbs with a sharp exhale. His tail flame flickered brighter, as if reigniting with full strength.
Elekid rolled his shoulders, sparks flickering across his arms in a steady, controlled rhythm, testing his usual power again.
Larvitar, ever composed, simply stood still for a moment, adjusting to the return of normal gravity. No wasted movement, no outward reaction—just quiet, measured focus.
I crossed my arms, letting a small grin pull at my lips as I took in the sight of them.
"That was an excellent session."
Their heads lifted at the praise, still catching their breath but fully attentive.
"You all did great," I continued. "You didn't just push through the pressure—you adapted to it. You worked with it. And you kept improving the whole time." I paused, letting my words sink in before nodding with satisfaction. "That's exactly what I wanted to see."
Chimchar grinned, his tail flame flaring with renewed energy.
Elekid smirked, clenching his fists as sparks crackled in sharp, precise bursts—no longer erratic like before.
Larvitar remained steady as always, but there was something in her gaze. A flicker of pride.
I met their eyes, my grin widening slightly. "We'll keep training at this level until you can handle it with ease. And once you do?" My voice held firm conviction. "We push even further."
No hesitation. No doubt. Bit by bit, we're going to get stronger.
They didn't need to say anything. The determination burning in their expressions said it all.
This was just the beginning.