Chapter 109: Forging a New Path
Without the disturbing photos, without Professor Oak's grave presence beside him confirming the veracity, Xiu might have dismissed the "Psychic Disaster Zone 7" report as some kind of elaborate, Cthulhu-esque horror fiction. But knowing it was real, knowing Oak himself had witnessed the aftermath… the images burned themselves into his mind, visceral and terrifying.
"Finished reading?" Professor Oak's quiet voice broke the heavy silence. He hadn't moved, simply waited patiently while Xiu absorbed the horrifying contents of the classified file.
Xiu couldn't speak immediately. He just nodded mutely, carefully placing the papers back into the folder, his hands still trembling slightly.
"Now you understand," Oak stated softly, his tone devoid of judgment, just quiet confirmation, "why uncontrolled psychic power is… treated with such extreme caution by those who know its true potential."
"When… when did this start?" Xiu finally managed to ask, his voice raspy. "This kind of… phenomenon?"
Professor Oak looked thoughtful, gazing into the distance as if recalling faded memories. "The potential has always been there, inherent within powerful psychic Pokémon," he mused. "But large-scale, catastrophic events like the one described in that report… thankfully rare. That specific incident, however, became a critical data point, shaping much of the League's subsequent policy regarding psychic Pokémon research and containment."
"Then… why am I still okay?" Xiu asked the question that had been burning in his mind since his own diagnosis. "If Abra's leakage is so dangerous…"
"I don't know for certain," Oak admitted honestly, meeting Xiu's gaze. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then offered, almost dismissively, "Perhaps it's simply a matter of dosage, duration of exposure. Or," a strange, almost appraising look entered his eyes, "perhaps you're just… built different."[1]
Xiu felt speechless again. 'What does that mean?'
"Don't dwell on it," Oak advised, noticing Xiu's confusion. "Human physiology is remarkably adaptive, in some ways no less complex than any Pokémon's. We just understand it differently. Perhaps," he added with a faint, enigmatic smile, "you possess some latent talent, some inherent resistance in this area. Who can say?"
Xiu, however, wasn't reassured. The seriousness of the potential danger, the horrifying images from the report… they solidified his resolve. He couldn't let Abra's condition remain unchecked. He couldn't risk anyone becoming… like that.
"So," Professor Oak asked casually, breaking the renewed silence, observing Xiu's determined expression, "now that you grasp the stakes… what do you intend to do? Still insist on keeping Abra? Persist with your original plan?"
"Yes," Xiu replied instantly, without hesitation. He met Oak's gaze, his earlier fear replaced by a cold, unwavering conviction. "I have confidence in Abra. We will find a way for it to gain control." Compared to the horrors described in that report, his own shortened lifespan seemed a secondary concern. The primary goal had to be helping Abra manage its power.
"Forget it, then~" Professor Oak sighed, taking the confidential file back from Xiu and locking it away securely. "As long as you don't regret your choice later." He sounded resigned. "I've told you what I know, warned you of the risks. Whatever happens now… you can't blame me."
"Haha," Xiu managed a weak laugh. "It was my choice, Professor. How could I possibly blame you?" The bravado felt thin, fragile. He looked down at his hands, frowning again. "But… what do I do now?" The path forward felt even more uncertain than before.
Professor Oak seemed about to offer advice, perhaps suggest specific psychic dampeners or containment methods, but then seemed to think better of it. He had given his warnings, presented the options. The choice, ultimately, was Xiu's.
— — —
After leaving the unsettling atmosphere of the Institute's secure document room, Xiu found himself back in the backyard, needing fresh air, needing to think. He needed a plan— a real plan, not just vague hopes and desperate measures.
Professor Oak's critique of his training methods, his dismissal of the command-based battle system… it echoed in Xiu's mind. While Oak's proposed alternative – 'just fight more' – felt reckless and incomplete, the core criticism held weight. His Pokémon were becoming too reliant on his specific commands, their movements perhaps too predictable, lacking adaptability.
He released Scyther from its Poké Ball. "Alright, Scyther," he commanded, needing to see its current capabilities again, reassess. "Show me everything you've learned. Run through your skills."
Scyther nodded, ready. First, Focus Energy. The familiar white aura flared briefly, intensifying its presence, sharpening its gaze. Then, Slash. It took a step, the undamaged scythe flashing through the air in a precise, powerful arc. Xiu nodded silently. The basic execution was flawless, honed through countless repetitions. Next, Fury Cutter. Scyther unleashed a rapid sequence of slashes, each faster than the last, the blades becoming a near-invisible blur. Finally, Agility. Another flare of white energy, and Scyther shot across the clearing like a green meteor, covering twenty meters in the blink of an eye, stopping instantly on command.
The individual skills were there. Mastered, even. But watching the sequence, Xiu finally understood Professor Oak's point. They felt… disjointed. Like separate tools used independently, not flowing together as part of a cohesive fighting style. Scyther executed the commands perfectly, but lacked… initiative. It waited for the next command, rather than anticipating, reacting, combining techniques organically. Too rigid.
Professor Oak was right. Relying solely on the 'skills' wasn't enough. Scyther needed to learn how to fight, how to integrate these abilities instinctively. But how to teach that without throwing it into dangerous, uncontrolled battles?
Xiu considered Oak's dismissive advice again. "With more actual combat, it will judge the timing and angle by itself…" Experience was key. But controlled experience, focused practice, had to be better than blind trial-and-error.
He needed to break Scyther's reliance on his explicit commands for every action, encourage improvisation, develop its combat instincts. But how?
He decided to start with refining the skills Scyther already possessed, pushing them beyond their basic application. Agility, for instance. Incredible straight-line speed, yes. But completely useless for maneuvering in tight spaces or changing direction rapidly during combat.
"Alright, Scyther," Xiu announced, formulating a new drill on the spot. "New exercise. Use Agility again. But this time," he pointed towards a cluster of trees at the edge of the clearing, "I want you to turn. Mid-sprint. Sharp ninety-degree turn around that oak tree, then back towards me. Maintain as much speed as possible."
Scyther looked confused for a moment – Agility was for straight-line speed, not turning – but obeyed. It activated Agility, blurring forward as before. As it approached the designated tree, it attempted to turn sharply as instructed.
CRASH!
Unable to control its momentum at that speed, Scyther slammed heavily into the tree trunk, tumbling onto the grass in a heap of tangled limbs and wings.
"Are you okay?" Xiu rushed over immediately, helping the dazed Scyther back to its feet, checking for injuries.
Fortunately, the impact was against soft grass and its tough exoskeleton absorbed most of the force. Only minor scrapes, maybe a bruised ego. But the failure was obvious. Turning sharply while under the effects of Agility required an incredibly high degree of body control, balance, and spatial awareness – skills Scyther clearly hadn't developed yet.
"Okay," Xiu said thoughtfully, assessing the situation. "Looks like we found our starting point." This was the kind of targeted training Oak hadn't explicitly suggested, but which felt like a necessary bridge between basic skill execution and true combat application. Combine skills, refine control, and build adaptability.
'My own method,' Xiu decided, blending Oak's philosophy with structured practice. It felt like a viable path forward. Hard work, yes, but not impossible.
[1] see what I did here xd