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Chapter 125: Celebration (1)
🕑 Added 2025-04-27 20:30:57 +0000 UTC
The newly renovated Moonwood Town gym pulsed with life, its expanded stadium transformed into a vibrant festival ground to celebrate its elevation to major status.
The air buzzed with laughter, music, and the clink of glasses as hundreds gathered under strings of twinkling lights, the psychic barrier system deactivated to let the joyous chaos spill across the gleaming battlefield.
Over half of Moonwood’s residents—folks who’d watched Gladion grow from a scrappy kid to Kanto’s prodigy—mingled with invited trainers, League officials, and even a few Hoenn influencers drawn by Gladion’s social media clout.
The stands, now capable of seating 5000, brimmed with locals swapping stories of Gladion’s antics, from his first battle to his crushing victory over Pryce.
The battlefield-shift tech, a marvel of grass, rock, water, and ice options, lay dormant, the battlefield serving as a dance floor where kids spun and elders swayed to a upbeat Pokémon-themed band.
At the gym’s backside, where Gladion had bought acres of forested land to expand, a different party unfolded—a Pokémon bash, wild and untamed. Gladion's, Erza's, Ben's and Maren's remaining two Pokemon Venasaur and Rhydon were having a feast of their own.
Scattered across the clearing were Gladion’s secondary Pokémon—captures for gym battles, not his elite squad. Pokemon of different types who were going to be part of his general type gym battles.
But the real spectacle was Arsenal, now a Magmortar, and Zeus, the Electivire, locking heads in a heated standoff that sent weaker Pokémon—like a skittish Oddish—scampering for cover.
Arsenal’s fiery red-and-yellow hide glowed, his cannon-like arms steaming, flames licking the air as he towered, bulkier than most Magmortar. Zeus, yellow fur crackling with sparks, tails lashing, matched him glare for glare, his aura a storm of electricity.
[You think you’re hot stuff now, cannon-boy?] Zeus snarled, sparks flying. [I’m Zeus-Zappy, king of bolts—my Thunder’d fry you to a crisp!]
Arsenal’s flames flared, his voice a rumbling growl. [Pfft, sparky—my Flamethrower’d melt your wires! You’re all flash, no heat!] Their auras clashed, a fiery-electric haze scaring a nearby Buneary into a bush, its ears quivering. Zeus puffed out his chest.
[Flash? I’m a legend—ask Pryce’s team!] Arsenal snorted, smoke curling. [Legend? I’m the new star. The gym would be known for me.] The ground trembled as they leaned closer, sparks and embers popping like a fireworks misfire.
Suddenly, a roar shook the forest, deep and furious, silencing the squabble.
[STOP DISTURBING MY SLEEP, YOU LITTLE SHRIMPS! OR DO YOU WANT TO EXPERIENCE FALLING FROM A THOUSAND FEET AGAIN?] The voice was a thunderclap, and Zeus and Arsenal froze, sweat beads comically forming on their faces. They whipped around, trembling, to face Eldergreen—a massive Tropius, one of Gladion’s main team, looming like a living mountain.
Unlike typical Tropius, Eldergreen was no gentle clan-dweller; he was a brooding dinasaur, his leafy wings spanning wider than a Dragonite’s, his fruit-laden neck swaying with grumpy menace.
His size dwarfed even other Tropius, his green hide scarred from battles, eyes glaring with the wisdom—and crankiness—of age.
Zeus and Arsenal gulped, their bravado evaporating. [N-no, Mr. Eldergreen!] Zeus stammered, tails drooping.
[Sorry for the noise—just, uh, vibing!] Arsenal nodded frantically, flames dimming.
[Yeah, total accident—won’t happen again, promise!] They backed away, tripping over a root in their panic, landing in a heap as Eldergreen snorted, his wings flapping once, sending a gust that ruffled Gwen’s hair who was nearby playing with some of the gym's Pokemon.
She cackled, pointing. “Oh, you two are toast! Eldergreen’s gonna yeet you to Sinnoh!” Erza smirked, “Told you not to mess with the old man—he’s grumpier than a Snorlax with no lunch!”
The memory of Eldergreen’s wrath was vivid for Zeus and Arsenal. Months ago, during a gym training session, they’d bickered loudly near his napping spot—a shady grove he claimed as his throne.
Enraged, Eldergreen had snatched them like pebbles, his massive jaws gentle but firm, and soared a thousand feet up. [You like noise? Try this!] he’d roared, tossing them skyward.
They’d flailed, Zeus sparking, Arsenal flaming, only for Eldergreen to dive, catch them, and repeat the cycle—up, down, up, down—like a sadistic carnival ride. When they finally hit the ground, dizzy and whimpering, Eldergreen had grumbled,
[Next time, I won’t catch you!] Now, the mere threat sent them cowering, Zeus muttering, [I’d rather face Pryce again!] Arsenal nodded, [Yeah, I’m good—nap time’s sacred!]
Back in the stadium, Gladion looked at the glass of Moomoo Milk in his hand. Sadly, drinking age was 18 even in this life.
'Oh man, They expect kids to kill whenever required at the age of 10 but they can't let 15 year olds drink? What nonsense is this! The lawmakers need to be fired. When I have enough political power, I am going to change this rule first up.' Gladion thought before raising his glass, his voice echoing throughout the stadium,
“To Moonwood—our home, our gym, our future!” Cheers erupted, glasses clinking, as locals shouted, “To Gladion!” and “Major gym, baby!” The band struck up a triumphant tune, and the party surged, kids dancing, elders toasting Maren’s memory. Gladion’s chest swelled—his dream, Grandpa Maren's dream, was real, and the celebration was just the start.
Comments
devin drenovas
I know Grandpa will be proud.
