Chapter 20

The Pokémon Center room was smaller than Ace expected, and smaller than it had any right to feel when the weight inside it was this heavy.

Late-night fluorescent light leaked under the door in a thin, pale line, but the overheads were off. Only the soft blue glow from the heart-rate monitor lit the space, steady green spikes, mechanical beeps cutting the silence every few seconds like someone counting down from forever. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and the metallic tang of overheated machinery.

Ace sat in the single chair beside the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly the knuckles had gone white. He hadn’t moved in hours. His jacket was still on.

Lee lay motionless under the thin blanket.

Tubes ran from his arm to an IV stand. Bandages wrapped his torso and one leg, already spotting red in places the nurses had missed. There was an oxygen mask over his mouth. His chest rose and fell sounding shallow and mechanical, assisted by the quiet hiss of oxygen.

The flames that usually crowned his head were gone; only faint embers smoldered along the edges, flickering like dying coals. Every so often one would gutter out completely, then sputter back, weaker than before.

Ace stared at that crown, unable to look away. His mind kept replaying the final seconds on the field.

Lee’s primal roar, sounding raw, defiant, and almost angry as the flames exploded around him one last time. The way his body had coiled like a spring even though every muscle was screaming. The instant Ace realized what was coming, the split-second where his thumb hovered over the recall button on Lee’s Poké Ball.

He hadn’t pressed it. He’d let Lee charge. Deep down he knew if didn’t let Lee do it, it meant certain death for Ace. Did that make him a coward? Selfish? Valuing his own life in a moment over Lee’s wellbeing?

It sure felt that way to Ace. Ace’s throat closed. He swallowed anyway, the sound loud in the quiet. The monitor beeped. He exhaled through his nose, slow and shaky.

The Divine Challenge didn’t care if he was human.

The thought arrived uninvited, cold and flat, like someone else had said it inside his skull. It didn’t care that Lee trusted him enough to keep fighting when he could barely stand. It didn’t care that he hesitated because he was afraid to die. It just counted the knockouts and whether you win or lose.

But the Syndicate is real, and they were winning.

Kyogre was drowning towns. Groudon carved through Fallarbor like it was paper. Dialga and Palkia were both in Cyrus’s hands. Giovanni and Lysandre were moving pieces none of them could see. Finally Ghetsis was watching it all with that patient, smiling patience that made Ace want to put a fist through concrete.

They’re collecting demi-gods like trading cards, and he was still here on Calypso Island bleeding for a crown that might not even matter if there was no world left to rule.

Ace’s hands tightened until his nails bit into his palms.

He saw it again: Lee’s eyes, bright, burning, and alive, right before the final Raging Fury attack. That look hadn’t been of fear or resignation. It had been of trust. Absolute, stupid, unshakable trust, and Ace had answered it by letting him run straight into a meat grinder.

Ace’s vision blurred. He blinked hard, refusing to let it spill. Not here. Not now.

The door opened quietly.

A nurse stepped inside looking about mid-thirties with tired eyes and holding a clipboard held like a shield. She glanced at Ace, then at Lee, then back to Ace. She didn’t ask if he was okay. She already knew the answer.

She moved to the monitor, checked the readings, and adjusted the oxygen flow by a fraction. Her movements were practiced and gentle. When she spoke, her voice was soft, sounding almost apologetic.

“His vitals are stable,” she said. “Heart rate steady. Brain activity consistent. No new bleeds on the last scan.”

Ace didn’t look up. His voice came out rough, barely above a whisper.

“But?”

She hesitated. Just long enough for the silence to answer first.

“We don’t know if he’ll wake up,” she said finally. “The coma is deep. The trauma was ... extensive. We’re doing everything we can, but...”

She trailed off. She didn’t need to finish. Ace nodded once. The motion felt mechanical. She lingered a moment longer, then touched his shoulder lightly.

“If you need anything like water, a blanket, or someone to sit with you, just press the call button.”

He didn’t respond. She left as quietly as she’d come. The door clicked shut. The monitor beeped again as it continued to do every few minutes.

Ace leaned forward, elbows on his knees, forehead resting against clasped hands. His breathing was uneven now, ragged at the edges.

He didn’t cry. He just sat there, in the dark, listening to the only sound that mattered.

BeepBeepBeep

Somewhere beneath the guilt, the exhaustion, and the fear that Lee might never open his eyes again, a colder thought took root.

The Syndicate wasn’t waiting for him to grieve. They were moving, and he was still there.

He lifted his head slowly. Looked at Lee one more time who looked small, broken, but still breathing.

“I’m sorry,” Ace whispered.

The words felt useless, but he said them anyway.

Then he stood and walked to the window. Outside, Maria Bella glittered under streetlights and distant holo-billboards. Life kept moving.

Ace pressed his forehead to the cool glass.

“I’m not done yet,” he said quietly to himself, to Lee, to whatever god might still be listening.

The monitor kept beeping. Ace stayed there until the sky began to lighten. He didn’t sleep. He just waited.

The world didn’t wait for Ace to process what had happened. It simply kept spinning, faster and louder, turning his victory, and Lee’s collapse, into fuel for every screen, feed, and conversation.

On the Calypso Battle Analysis Show, live from Maria Bella Studios, Rita Davis sat forward in the high-backed chair, her usual bright energy dialed up to eleven.

The studio lights gleamed off her dark hair and the gold trim of her blazer. Behind her, a massive split-screen showed frozen frames from the match: Amber’s Mega Charizard Y roaring under Drought, Lee’s final Raging Fury charge, the moment Infernape collapsed after the referee declared Ace the winner, and Ace dropping to his knees beside his fallen partner on the scorched stone.

Rita beamed at the camera.

“Welcome to another addition to the Calypso Battle Analysis Show! If you missed what happened at the Solamira Sun Gym yesterday..., I don’t even know where to begin.”

A video montage of the battle began to play as Rita continued.

“Ace Tomlinson has done it again. He has defeated Amber Pennebaker, the Scarlet Flame, in the Divine Challenge in one of the most emotionally and tactically brutal matches we have ever witnessed. Tomlinson is now four wins in, with four gym leaders remaining. Professor Morales, take us through it.”

Professor Morales leaned back, glasses reflecting the studio glow. His usual measured tone carried a rare undercurrent of awe and concern.

“Rita, this was not a match. This was survival. Ace went down early when Amber’s Mega Charizard Y dominated the field under Drought. He lost Lapras and Dragonite in quick succession. Most trainers would have folded but Ace adapted.”

A clip of Venusaur Mega evolving played on screen as the Professor continued his analysis.

“Ace then Mega-evolved his Venusaur, which was the first time we’d ever seen him do this, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. Mega-Venusaur’s Thick Fat ability neutralized its weakness to fire and allowed to turn Amber’s greatest weapon, the Sun, into his own advantage.”

The screen cut to a clip of Heatran appearing and defeating Ace’s Mega Venusaur.

“Then Amber shocked the world revealing her legendary, Heatran! Heatran promptly defeated Mega Venusaur and stopped Ace’s momentum. Amber strategically recalled her legendary to save it for the final battle!”

The video feed cut to a clip of Infernape facing off against Heatran.

“With the help of his Infernape and Zeraora, Ace battled back and soon left Amber to only her Heatran remaining. It came down to Ace’s Infernape against Amber’s legendary Pokémon, Heatran. Lee was already carrying damage, and then, in the final moments, Lee gave everything. Raging Fury after Raging Fury, refusing to quit even when the body was screaming. That last attack ... wasn’t just a move. It was a statement. Ace’s Infernape, Lee, chose to give everything to end it, and he paid the price.”

He paused, voice quieter.

“According to the latest reports, Lee is in critical condition at the Pokémon Center in Maria Bella. Coma. Life-threatening injuries. The medical team is doing everything possible, but ... they simply don’t know if he’ll wake up. That’s the reality right now.”

Rita looked directly into the camera, her usual polish giving way to something raw.

“Let’s talk about the cost because the Divine Challenge is not a normal tournament. It never has been. One loss means execution. Every trainer who steps onto that field knows the price. Ace’s Infernape knew that and I believe that’s why it charged and fought until it gave Ace the win.”

She let the question hang before turning to Professor Morales.

“Is it worth it? Is the tradition worth the lives? The brutality? The blood?”

Professor Morales exhaled slowly, removing his glasses for a moment.

“We have to talk about it because the Divine Challenge demands more than skill. It demands sacrifice, and sometimes that sacrifice is permanent. Lee didn’t have to make that final charge. Despite some people accusing him of such, Ace didn’t force him. Lee chose it. Lee chose to risk everything because he believed in Ace. That’s not coercion. That’s partnership. That’s love, but love should not come with a death clause.”

Rita nodded slowly.

“So where do we go from here? The League has already confirmed the Divine Challenge will continue, but the conversation, the real conversation, is only beginning.”

Professor Morales turned back toward the camera.

“If Ace keeps winning ... if he reaches the final match, presumably against Angelina Rohan..., the island will have to decide whether it wants a king forged in blood, or whether it’s finally ready to let the old tradition die.”

The screen cut to a graphic:

ACE TOMLINSON – 4 WINS / 4 REMAINING LEE (INFERNAPE) – CRITICAL CONDITION, COMA

Rita looked straight into the lens.

“We’ll be back with more after this break. Stay with us.”

PokéNet had topics related to the battle trending worldwide.

#AceVsAmber #DivineChallenge #LeeInCritical #Heatran #ChosenOneOrKiller #EndTheExecutionClause #CalypsoBurns

@CalypsoKingFan: Ace just beat Amber Pennebaker with a half-dead team and against an unexpected legendary. I’m not religious but I’m praying for Lee. That Infernape is the real MVP.

@BattleHardened: Amber bringing out Heatran was insane. But Ace still found a way. This man is built different.

@FairyFaye88: Lee refusing to quit even when he was broken ... that’s not just loyalty. That’s love. I’m crying.

@EthicsInBattling: The Divine Challenge is a human rights violation. Lee is in a coma because he was willing to die for his trainer. We’re glorifying this. We need to end the execution clause NOW.

@TraditionDefender: Lee knew the stakes. Ace didn’t force him. That’s what makes the Challenge sacred. You don’t get to be king without being willing to lose everything.

@HoennExpat: Just watched the replay. Ace’s face when Lee went down ... I’ve never seen someone look so broken and still keep fighting. That’s not Chosen One. That’s a man carrying too much.

@LegendWhisperer: Zeraora making another appearance, Lee’s sacrifice, Amber revealing Heatran ... the signs are everywhere. Ace is the bridge between human and divine. This Challenge is bigger than Calypso.

@AntiChallengeCoalition: If the League doesn’t suspend this death game after what happened to Lee, they’re complicit. #EndTheDivineChallenge

@AceTomlinsonFanClub: Sending love and healing energy to Lee. Ace is fighting for all of us. Stay strong, king.

@SunGymStan: Amber Pennebaker having a Heatran for TWO YEARS and never using it is INSANE btw. That alone puts her in champion tier.

@PokéCenterMariaBella: No official update on Lee’s condition at this time. Please stop spreading false recovery claims.

A poll went viral within the hour of the latest segment of the Calypso Battle Analysis Show:

SHOULD THE DIVINE CHALLENGE BE SUSPENDED? Yes – 48% No – 46% Only After This Run – 6%

The feeds kept rolling. The world kept talking.

Ace didn’t see any of it. He was still in the hospital room, staring at the monitor, listening to the beeps, waiting for Lee to open his eyes.

The noise of the world was very loud, but in that small, quiet room, it was deafeningly silent.

The fluorescent lights in the hallway outside Lee’s room had been dimmed to a soft amber glow, the kind meant to signal “quiet hours” without making the place feel abandoned. Inside, the only real light came from the heart rate monitor with steady green pulses and mechanical beeps slicing the silence every few seconds like a metronome counting grief.

Ace hadn’t moved from the chair beside the bed in hours.

His jacket was still zipped halfway up. His eyes were open, red-rimmed, staring at Lee without really seeing him. There was just the shallow rise and fall of the blanket Lee was under. The faint embers were still smoldering along Infernape’s crown.

Ace didn’t even hear the door open.

Mikaela Faye stepped inside quietly, the way someone enters a room they’re not sure they’re welcome in.

She paused just past the threshold, letting the door ease shut behind her with a soft pneumatic sigh. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, strands escaping like they’d given up trying to behave.

She wore a simple black hoodie over leggings, nothing flashy or performative. Her eyes went straight to Ace, then to Lee, then back to Ace.

She saw everything she needed to see in the first three seconds: the hollowed cheeks, the thousand-yard stare, and the way his hands were locked together so tightly the knuckles were bloodless.

She didn’t speak right away.

She crossed the room in four quiet steps and lowered herself into the empty space on the edge of the visitor chair beside him. Close enough that their shoulders almost touched in a way that wasn’t crowding him, but just there.