The air in Slateport City always carried a salty tang, sharp with the scent of seafoam and the occasional burst of citrus from the open markets. Joseph had visited many times before, but this time was different. He wasn't here as a tourist or a businessman's son. He was here as a traveler—one simply passing through the rhythms of the world with his younger brother by his side.
Steven practically lit up the moment they arrived. The beachside city buzzed with life, boats docked in the harbor, and trainers young and old battled on the sand with fire in their hearts and grit in their voices. But Steven had a singular goal in mind.
"Professor Cozmo should be heading to Meteor Falls soon," Steven said, glancing at the notebook in his hand.
Joseph gave a slow nod, sipping on a bottle of soda. "Meteor Falls, huh… Been years since I visited. Dangerous terrain, but it hides stories in the stones."
Steven looked up. "You think something's there?"
"I know there is."
Before heading north, they stayed the night in a suite overlooking the docks. Steven reviewed his notes while Joseph relaxed on the balcony, Eevee resting in his lap, her silver fur glimmering under the streetlights.
Joseph's gaze lingered on the sea. Slateport had always been a place of comings and goings. Sailors swapped stories of storms and sea kings, while vendors traded evolution stones like candy. And beneath it all, whispers began to spread: of a strange group in blue, moving in and out of the docks at night.
Team Aqua, Joseph thought, his jaw tightening.
He hadn't forgotten the shadow he felt back on Dewford.
Eevee perked up suddenly, staring toward the alley below. Joseph followed her gaze.
Two figures slipped into the night. Blue hoods. Something clutched close to their chests.
He didn't move. Not yet.
The next morning, Steven was up early, breakfasting in the lobby when Joseph joined him, dressed and ready. His expression was unreadable.
"Sleep well?" Steven asked.
"Fine," Joseph replied simply. "We're going to Meteor Falls today."
Steven raised an eyebrow. "No detours?"
"Not today."
The journey north was pleasant, but Joseph stayed alert. With each step closer to the mountainous terrain, he sensed a shift. Trainers thinned out, and the woods grew denser. The rivers flowed more violently, and strange Pokémon sounds echoed between cliffs. Zubat fluttered above them, and a lone Loudred roared from deep within a cave before vanishing into the dark.
Meteor Falls wasn't far now.
But the moment they crossed the suspension bridge leading to the base of the mountain, Joseph stopped.
"Steven," he said calmly. "Keep your Pokéballs ready."
Steven paused, surprised. "Now?"
"There's movement ahead. Several people. Too quiet."
As if on cue, a soft clang echoed in the distance—metal against rock.
Voices.
Joseph motioned for silence and pressed ahead through the brush, crouching low. They reached a vantage point overlooking the entrance to Meteor Falls—and what they saw turned Steven's blood cold.
Team Aqua grunts. At least six.
And among them—Professor Cozmo. Bound. Furious.
"They're trying to extract the meteor shard," Steven whispered.
Joseph's voice was ice. "They don't even know what they're messing with."
Steven looked to his brother. "What now?"
Joseph handed him a small remote. "Press that if things go south. It'll signal my Skarmory to cover you."
Steven blinked. "And what will you be doing?"
Joseph smiled softly. "Taking care of things."
He moved like a shadow between the rocks.
Years of training—real training—gave Joseph the kind of physical discipline that didn't exist in most Pokémon trainers. He didn't rely on brute strength. He relied on awareness. Speed. Surprise.
He waited until two grunts stepped away from the group, heading for a second crate.
Then—bam.
Joseph moved.
A swift kick. A chokehold. Both grunts were down before they could cry out.
Steven and Cozmo both looked up moments later when a heavy object crashed into the center of the clearing.
One of the Aqua crates—torn open.
Then Joseph walked out, calm as water, Eevee on his shoulder.
The grunts spun in panic. "Who the hell—?!"
"Joseph Stone," he said smoothly. "Not a name you want to find on your report."
Eevee leapt from his shoulder mid-sentence, crashing a glowing Iron Tail into one of the grunt's Pokémon—a Mightyena—that crumpled in one hit.
And the battle began.
Steven ran in from the side, throwing a Pokéball. "Aggron, help him!"
The silver-armored titan landed beside Joseph with a crash.
The rest was swift, decisive.
Joseph didn't even use his full team. He barely needed to. Eevee moved like a blur, her battle instincts razor-sharp after years in simulated game-space and EV training. Her Quick Attack weaved between grunts and Pokémon alike, dropping foes left and right with surgical precision.
Steven held his own too, though Joseph could see he was still raw. Strong, but not sharp.
By the time the last grunt fled, shouting over his shoulder about "not being paid enough for this," the mountain fell silent again.
Cozmo, still a little shaken, rubbed his wrists. "That was... terrifying. And impressive."
Steven helped him up. "You alright?"
"I am now. Thanks to you two."
Joseph turned toward the stone jutting from the wall—half-buried, but pulsing faintly with power.
"I'd advise leaving it where it is," Joseph said. "It's older than the Hoenn League. Older than us all."
Cozmo gulped but nodded. "I just wanted to study it…"
"You can," Joseph said, turning to go. "Just not today."
That evening, back in their room in Fallarbor Town, Steven collapsed onto the bed.
"Well," he said, face in a pillow. "That escalated fast."
Joseph sat on the windowsill, Eevee curled beside him, watching the stars begin to come out.
"It'll keep escalating," he said quietly. "We're moving toward something. And Aqua's just the beginning."
Steven looked up. "You think it has to do with the meteors?"
"I think it has to do with balance. And people trying to tip it."
Steven sighed. "No pressure, huh?"
Joseph smiled faintly. "You've got me. That's all you need."
They both laughed lightly after that, but neither of them truly shook the tension in their chests.
Far off, beyond the trees, a massive, serpentine shape glided silently through the clouds—its emerald scales catching moonlight like a whisper from the heavens.
Watching.
Waiting.
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