Note: As it is the 30th anniversary for Pokemon bonus chapter

  (Grey's POV)

  The road to Fuchsia City wasn't just a path; it was a gauntlet. Route 16 stretched out before me, a long ribbon of asphalt cutting through dense, whispering woods and sun-bleached fields. My legs were starting to feel the miles, and the sun was high enough to make the sweat sting my eyes.

  Beside me, Axew trotted with a surprising amount of energy. He wasn't just walking; he was shadow-boxing, his small claws occasionally glowing with a faint, dark purple hue as he practiced the vertical "slicing" intent we'd discussed the night before.

  "Save it, buddy," I muttered, adjusting the strap of my bag. "We've still got a long way to go before we see a Pokémon Center."

  As we rounded a sharp bend where the trees thinned out, the peaceful sounds of the wild were suddenly drowned out by a low, rhythmic thrumming. It sounded like a swarm of giant insects, but as we got closer, the smell of exhaust and burnt rubber gave it away. A wall of chrome and leather blocked the path.

  A biker gang.

  They were loitering near a cluster of parked motorcycles, their jackets adorned with patches of Koffings and Grimers. They were loud, their laughter echoing off the rocks, and as soon as they saw me, the noise died down. One of them, a tall guy with a scarred chin named Rick, stepped forward. He crossed his arms over a grease-stained vest and gave me a grin that didn't reach his eyes.

  "Well, look at this," Rick drawled. "A little scholar lost his way? You're a long way from the Celadon library, kid."

  "Just passing through," I said, my voice steady. I kept my hand near Axew, who had stopped shadow-boxing and was now staring at the bikers with a low, vibrating growl in his throat. He could feel the hostility.

  "Route 16 has a toll," another biker chimed in, leaning against his handlebars. "And we don't take cash from runts. We take experience. One battle. You win, we give you a lead to the city. You lose... well, maybe we see how far your backpack can fly off the cycling bridge."

  I looked at the group. They were trying to bully me, trying to see if I'd break under the pressure. I looked down at Axew. He wasn't afraid. In fact, he looked insulted that they were talking down to us. His eyes were locked on Rick, practically begging for the command.

  "Fine," I said, dropping my bag. "One battle. One on one."

  Rick barked a laugh. "I like the guts. Let's go, Dodrio!"

  The three-headed bird exploded from its ball, its heads bobbing in a chaotic, hypnotic rhythm. It was a veteran of the road—scars on its legs and a sharp, predatory glint in all six of its eyes. This wasn't a rookie match.

  "Dodrio, let's show 'em! Drill Peck!"

  The Dodrio didn't just charge; it became a spinning vortex. It tilted its body forward, its three beaks aligning like the tip of a massive drill, shrouded in white-hot flying energy. The ground literally cracked under its feet as it accelerated toward us.

  "Axew, Burst Mode! Dragon Rage!" I commanded.

  Axew planted his feet and opened his maw. Instead of one big blast, he fired a rapid succession of blue orbs. Thump-thump-thump! The hits connected, exploding against the Dodrio's spinning form, but the bird didn't stop. The momentum of the Drill Peck was too high; it was tanking the damage through pure speed.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Jump! Now!"

  At the last possible second, Axew leaped into the air. The Dodrio tore through the space where he'd been standing, the wind from the move nearly knocking me over. But Rick was fast.

  "Don't let him land! Peck!"

  The Dodrio skidded to a halt and pivoted with terrifying agility. Before Axew's feet even hit the grass, the three heads were on him. Snap! Snap! Snap! It was a barrage of unpredictable strikes. Axew tried to guard with his arms, but with three heads attacking from different angles, he was getting shredded.

  I need to create space, I thought, my heart hammering against my ribs. If he stays in close, those heads will pick him apart.

  "Axew! Night Slash to the center head! Create a gap!"

  Axew caught a glimpse of my eyes—I was projecting as much calm as I could. He roared, his right claw erupting in dark energy. He swung upward, catching the middle head just as it lunged. The impact was enough to stagger the bird for a split second, and Axew used the recoil to backflip away, putting ten feet of distance between them.

  "Now, Dragon Dance! Do it while he's resetting!"

  Axew spun, a draconic aura swirling around him, his speed and power ticking upward. But Rick wasn't going to let us setup for free.

  "Drill Peck again! Full power!"

  The Dodrio lunged once more, even faster this time.

  "Night Slash!" I yelled.

  But Axew didn't use Night Slash. I saw his left hand twitch—the Normal-type energy we'd been practicing for Slash began to gather, but it was unstable. He was trying to force the evolution of the move in the heat of battle. The two attacks clashed. The shadowy energy of his right hand and the flickering white energy of his left met the spinning beaks of the Dodrio.

  The explosion of energy threw Axew backward. He skidded across the dirt, barely holding onto consciousness.

  "I think it's over, kid," Rick taunted, his hand already reaching for his next Poké Ball. "Finish it, Dodrio! Drill Peck!"

  Axew struggled to his feet. He was panting, his scales covered in dust and nicks. I wanted to call the match—I wanted to save him the pain—but then I saw his eyes. They weren't the eyes of a loser. They were stubborn. He started gathering that Normal energy in his left hand again, refusing to give up on the new move.

  He's not being disobedient, I realized. He's being a Dragon. He'd rather break than lose.

  "Alright, Axew! If you want it, take it!" I shouted, matching his intensity. "Listen to me! Night Slash on the right, Slash on the left! Don't swing them one by one—Cross them! Make an X!"

  Axew's eyes widened. He got it. As the Dodrio bore down on him, a living drill of destruction, Axew stood his ground. He waited until the very last moment, the wind of the Peck blowing his head back.

  He swung both arms in a violent, synchronized cross-pattern. The dark energy and the pure white slicing energy fused at the center point.

  CLANG!

  The sound was like metal hitting metal. The Cross-Slash caught the Dodrio's beaks right in the center of the vortex. For a heartbeat, there was a stalemate—and then, the Dragon's pride won out. Axew's arms surged forward, his intent to slice finally clicking. He overpoured the energy, sending the Dodrio flying backward, its heads spinning in dazed circles.

  "Don't let it breathe! Pummel it! Alternate!"

  Axew didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted forward, his movements a blur of speed from the earlier Dragon Dance. He hit the Dodrio with a Night Slash, then a Slash, then another Night Slash. It was a relentless rhythm of dark and light.

  "Tri-Attack! Get him off you!" Rick screamed, desperate.

  The Dodrio's three heads began to glow—fire, ice, and lightning forming in their mouths.

  "Point-blank Dragon Rage! Now!"

  Before the Tri-Attack could leave the Dodrio's beaks, Axew slammed his hands onto the bird's chest and unleashed a full-power blast right into its face. The resulting explosion sent a shockwave through the clearing. Axew was thrown back by the recoil, tumbling into the grass, but he scrambled back up, his chest heaving.

  The Dodrio didn't get up. It lay in the dirt, fainted.

  The silence that followed was deafening. The bikers, who had been cheering and jeering just minutes ago, stood frozen. Rick looked at his fainted Pokémon, then at me, then at the small, battered Axew who was still growling, ready for more.

  "Darn," Rick said, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face. "That's... that's some serious heat for a zero-badge kid."

  He walked over, not with anger, but with respect. He pulled out a wad of cash and handed me 1,000 Pokedollars. "A deal's a deal. That was the best scrap I've seen on this route in a month."

  The leader of the gang, a massive man on a customized black bike, kicked his kickstand up and rode over to us. He didn't look like a bully anymore; he looked like a veteran who recognized a peer.

  "You've got a rare bond there, kid," the leader said. He pulled a laminated card from his vest—a "Road-Wolf" honorary pass. "You ever find yourself in trouble in Kanto, you show that to anyone with a bike. We don't forget a fight like that."

  He looked at the sky. "Sun's going down. We're heading to Fuchsia to grab some drinks. You want a lift? We can get you to the Pokémon Center in twenty minutes. Save you the walk."

  I looked at Axew. He was exhausted, his legs shaking slightly from the adrenaline crash. I looked at the long, dark road ahead.

  "I'd appreciate that," I said, picking up my bag and recalling Axew to his ball so he could rest. "Thanks."

  The ride was exhilarating. Being sandwiched between twenty roaring engines as we flew down the cycling road was a feeling I'd never forget. I took Rick's and the leader's numbers, and we swapped PokéNet IDs. Having a connection with a biker gang wasn't something they taught you in the Trainer's Manual, but in this world, having friends on the road was worth more than gold.

  As the neon lights of Fuchsia City appeared on the horizon, I felt a surge of pride. We had survived Route 16. Axew had learned to Slash. And I was dead tired and just wanted to rest in a pillow at the Pokemon centre.

  (Guess the Pokemon for the next chapter: I competed with Venusaur for the position of the most dominant grass type in OU for Gen1 , I lost to Ash in the Indigo League , I was part of a Champion's Team and abused a weather condition during weather wars in Gen5 )