The Indigo Stadium once again buzzed with an electric fervor, every seat packed to the brim with spectators clutching banners, their voices a roaring tide of anticipation.
Five years had sharpened the stakes, and today, Gladion Vortex—Kanto's brash prodigy—would face Pryce, the stoic Ice Champion of Kanto, in a match that promised fireworks. And the Kanto crowd suprisingly was rooting for the young Prodigy than their champion.
The twin bill of Gladion versus Pryce and Gwen versus Blaine had turned the stadium into a cauldron of hype, but Gladion's bout kicked off first, the spotlight blazing on him.
High in the Elite Four box, Agatha leaned forward, her wrinkled hands gripping the railing as she squinted at the field below. Her Gengar hovered beside her, cackling faintly.
She turned to Lance, the Dragon Master lounging with his cape draped over his chair, and rasped, "So, Lance boy—do you reckon that Vortex boy's grown into a Champion-level trainer? Enough to tangle with Pryce?"
Lance's eyes flicked to her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Everyone knew the Elite Four were Champion-caliber—each could've claimed the title if they'd wanted the headache. None did, though; the paperwork, the crises, the endless duties—Pryce could keep it.
Well, almost none—Lance had been mulling a challenge himself this year, his dragons as well his clan itching for the crown. He tilted his head, voice smooth as steel. "From what I've heard and seen? That kid's definitely Champion-level now. Five years ago, he dominated the Junior League with raw talent—now he's refined it into something fierce. And it's a damn good thing too, with Team Rocket slithering out of the shadows these past few years. We need more trainers with his spine."
Agatha chuckled, a dry, crackling sound that sent her Gengar into a giggling fit. "Oh, he's a spine alright—a troublesome little thorn! Word is, he's smashed a couple of Rocket bases to splinters. Blasted their grunts with that monstrous team of his—probably sent 'em running with their tails between their legs, crying for their mamas! That boy's a walking disaster for those crooks, and I love it—reminds me of my younger days, stirring up chaos with my ghosts!" Her praise danced with mischief, her eyes glinting as she imagined Gladion gleefully wrecking Rocket hideouts, cackling like one of her own specters.
Below, the announcer's voice thundered through the stadium, amplified by speakers that shook the stands. "Ladies and gentlemen, trainers of all ages—welcome to the match of the decade! First, our challenger—Gladion Vortex!" The crowd erupted, a wave of cheers crashing as Gladion strode onto the field, his trademark smirk plastered across his face, now sharper at 15, his dark hair tousled by the wind. The announcer's passion soared. "I remember calling his name not so long ago—five years back, when he stormed the first-ever Indigo League tournament he entered! He dominated it, folks—unleashed a youthful Machamp that flexed its way to glory, and then—oh, then—there was the surprise of Annihilape, a Ghost-Fighting terror no one saw coming! He is not just an awesome trainers but a passionate businessman. Have you used Pokégram or Pokébook? Jeez, Social media sure is addicted. Let's see how much he's grown as a trainer, what tricks he's got up his sleeve now—because if I know Gladion, he's brought the heat!"
The applause swelled, banners flashing "Vortex Rules!" and "Annihilape Smash!" as Gladion waved lazily, soaking it in. The announcer pivoted, voice dropping to a reverent growl. "And his opponent—the reigning Kanto Champion, Pryce!" The Ice master emerged, cane tapping the ground, his white hair glinting under the stadium lights like frost. His expression was stone-cold, a stark contrast to the crowd's roar. "A master of Ice, a veteran of battles untold—Pryce has held this title with an iron grip, chilling foes into submission! Let's see if he can freeze out the Vortex storm!"
Pryce's eyes narrowed, locking onto Gladion with a glare that could've iced over a volcano. The referee stepped between them, a stout figure in black, raising his flags. "This is a six-on-six match, full battle rules! No substitutions are allowed, and the first to knock out all opposing Pokémon wins. Trainers, ready your teams!" His tone was firm, but a flicker of excitement danced in his eyes as he retreated, signaling the start.
Both trainers moved in sync, Poké Balls flashing as they released their first combatants.
Pryce's choice materialized in a shimmer of frost—Glaceon, an Ice-type evolution of Eevee, discovered just two years prior in Johto's icy peaks. An Eevee had stepped on an ice stone to complete the evolution.
Its sleek blue fur sparkled, ears twitching as it let out a crystalline yip, the air chilling around it. Gladion's pick burst forth in a crackle of electricity—Electivire, a hulking, never-before-seen evolution of Electabuzz in these parts.
Its red-tipped tails thrashed, sparks arcing as it roared, yellow fur bristling with power. The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling with confusion—'Is that Electabuzz's final form?'
In the stands, Lt. Surge leapt to his feet, his Raichu sparking beside him. The burly Gym Leader's jaw dropped, his shades slipping as he gaped at Electivire. He'd seen this beast before—decades ago, during the Infinite Wars, a Kalosian soldier's Electivire had zapped foes into submission.
But the trick to evolving Electabuzz had vanished with that soldier and the closure of borders between the regions, lost to time—until now. Surge's fists clenched, a manic grin spreading. "Hot damn, kid—where'd ya dig that up?! I've been itching to juice up my Electabuzz into one of those bad boys! After this, I'm cornering that smug punk—gonna zap the secret outta him, even if I gotta bribe him with a truckload of Thunder Stones!" He laughed, a booming sound.
Pryce's own surprise flickered, quickly masked by a scowl, but the VIP box told a different tale. Lance leaned back, muttering, "Well, I'll be damned." Even he, the poised Dragon Master, hadn't expected this.
Electivire wasn't unknown to old-timers—war vets like Surge and Pryce had glimpsed it in the chaos of the Infinite Wars, a thunderous titan tearing through lines. But the evolution method? Lost, buried with the closure of borders—until Gladion cracked it.
Pryce's thoughts churned with arrogance beneath his icy facade. 'So, the brat's got a rare toy. Doesn't mean he can wield it. I've crushed bigger sparks than that—let's see if he's more than a flashy upstart.'
Electivire—Zeus, as Gladion called him—flexed his massive arms, sparks dancing as he grinned at Gladion. [Thunder's my jam, boss—gonna fry this ice kitty 'til it's begging for a blanket!] His voice crackled with glee, red eyes glinting. And well the evolution has also brought a change in Zeus nature. Along with his love of shocking living things, he has grown interest in rapping. Updates are released by novel{f}ire.net
[Final evolution, baby—I'm the king of bolts now! Used to be a puny Electabuzz, dreaming of the big leagues—now I'm living it, zapping fools and loving every volt! Pryce's Glaceon? Pfft—gonna turn it into a popsicle with a side of shock therapy!] He punched the air.
Gladion smirked, catching Zeus's eye. "We would have to work out on your rhyming skills buddy. But for now let's show 'em what you've got." Pryce adjusted his grip on his cane, voice low. "Glaceon, prepare yourself." The Ice-type crouched, frost curling from its paws, ready to counter the electric onslaught.
The stadium held its breath, the referee's flags poised. Two days of buildup, five years of growth and 15 years since his reincarnation and Gladion was battling a Champion.
----Author Notes------
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