It started with sound.
Not music. Not voices. Just the hum—the subtle, layered whine of city infrastructure pushing through the last layer of trees like it had grown roots and was slowly consuming the wild.
Then came the signs.
Literally.
Metal posts. Trail markers. A directional board stamped with the seal of Eterna's League-sanctioned border.
"Civil Entry Zone – East Gate Access. One Active Pokémon Max. Badge Level Restrictions Enforced."
Orion stared at it for a moment, brow twitching.
"Right," he muttered. "Back to rules."
He looked down the slope where the trail bent into the city limits. Pavement began just past a low concrete marker painted with wear-resistant moss green.
He reached for his belt.
Tyrunt had been leading the way, tail swaying with idle confidence. Grotle was further back, crunching a root like it owed him money. Shinx bounced between them both like an indecisive coin.
"Alright," Orion said, stopping them with a low whistle. "Time for containment."
Tyrunt grumbled. Grotle made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a huff.
Shinx blinked and immediately curled up against Orion's ankle like he was campaigning to be the one spared.
Orion pointed at him.
"You win. Barely."
He raised Tyrunt's Poké Ball. A red beam shot forward, pulling the prehistoric predator into containment with a low whine.
Then Grotle. Same process.
Two flashes. Two flickers of motion.
Gone.
Orion clipped both capsules to his belt and exhaled.
"City rules. Can't look like I'm dragging an army behind me with just one badge."
Shinx meowed once and trotted ahead.
Orion followed.
Eterna City wasn't loud.
Not like he expected.
The sounds were there—traffic, tech, people—but everything was cushioned. Filtered. Like the whole place had been built with noise control in mind.
The sidewalks were wide and clean. The buildings were a fusion of old stone facades and newer panels—solar strips, reinforced windows, smart glass layered over ivy-draped brick.
Eterna didn't look like it was at war with nature.
It looked like it had made a deal with it.
And nature had agreed—for now.
Shinx padded close to Orion's side, tail flicking with a rhythm that didn't match his steps. His ears swiveled constantly, absorbing every sound. No one stopped them. No one asked questions.
But Orion could feel the eyes.
People noticed.
Not him, necessarily.
But Shinx?
Shiny.
Bright yellow coat. Crisp electric-blue eyes. Tail like a crooked bolt of wire.
Even in a city, he stood out.
But he wasn't a Tyrunt. Or a champion-line Grotle.
And that was the point.
Shinx looked like a luxury.
Not a threat.
They walked for ten minutes before Orion cut off the main road and turned into a quieter side avenue.
Observational Notes – Eterna Entry Zone:
Eastern grid still shows League signage. Badge-check terminal nonfunctional. Entry appears lightly enforced.
Crowd composition: light. Local trainers primarily under second badge threshold. One likely Gym scout (uniform).
Noise-dampening construction = intentional. Suspect deeper tech integration than average city.
No overt surveillance nodes. Watch for drones.
Pokémon Center ping available within ~400m. Path clear.
He stashed the notebook and pulled his hood higher.
Shinx circled his boots once, sniffed a trash bin, and made a judgmental noise at the scent.
Orion didn't ask.
They passed a market square built around a circular plaza with three street cafés and a monument in the center.
The statue was old—pre-League, probably. Weathered stone, moss-tinged, showing a cloaked figure with a bird perched on his shoulder. It didn't have a name plaque. Just a League sigil mounted below it.
People filtered through the square quietly. No crowds. No fights. No fanfare.
Just… normal.
Shinx sat for a moment, watching a pair of Pidove fly overhead.
Orion checked his map again.
Pokémon Center was close.
He didn't want to linger.
The Center came into view shortly after sunset.
It was bigger than he expected—three stories of clean stone and matte metal, with digital signage scrolling along the outer archway. Notices, team ranks, weather alerts. Nothing important.
The doors hissed open as he stepped through.
Inside?
Cool, quiet.
No flashy lights. No loud music.
A reception desk behind a curved shield of glass. A few self-check-in terminals. Trainers seated near the lounge—only two of them, both in clean uniforms, looking bored.
The only noise came from the air filtration system and the soft hum of charging stations.
Orion stopped for half a second just inside the door.
Felt his shoulders tense.
Then he walked forward.
He used the kiosk.
Simple badge scan. No ID required beyond the code embedded in his license.
His name didn't matter.
The system gave him a room: 217.
Assigned him a locker. Logged Shinx's Ball for "non-storage carry." Automatically scheduled medical scans for Tyrunt and Grotle overnight.
Orion pocketed the keycard.
Didn't say a word.
Shinx trotted beside him like he owned the place.
They passed through the hallway toward the residential wing.
Neutral tones. Earth-palette carpet. Wall-mounted notices about feeding times and battle sim schedules.
Everything efficient. Sterile. Secure.
Orion hated how much he liked it.
The room was… perfect.
Small. Clean. Real bed. Charging dock. Fold-out desk.
Private bathroom with actual hot water.
He stood in the doorway for a second too long.
Then stepped in.
Dropped the bag.
Took a breath.
Released it.
Shinx leapt onto the bed, spun in a circle, and immediately claimed the far corner with the possessiveness of a prince returning to his rightful throne.
Orion didn't argue.
He pulled his boots off.
Then opened the window—just a crack—to let in the scent of the city.
Faint electricity. Old stone. Engine oil. Something baking, somewhere far below.
He sat on the bed.
Ran a hand through his hair.
And let the silence wash over him.
No rain.
No rustling.
No claws.
No screams.
No one hunting them.
No one watching them.
Not tonight.
He lay back, pulled the thin blanket over his chest, and stared at the ceiling.
Shinx shifted against his side and purred once—soft, steady, barely there.
Orion didn't smile.
But he closed his eyes.
And let himself sleep.