PSSSHHH—
A sharp, hissing sound cut through the howling blizzard. Even with the storm raging outside, Grandma Wilma could hear it—unnatural, urgent.
She narrowed her eyes and frowned. "Aria, did you hear that?"
"Ta-ria~?" Altaria tilted her head, her cloud-like wings shifting slightly. She turned toward the entrance, her sharp gaze piercing through the dim light.
The sound persisted, growing clearer with each second. The pure white snow at the cave's entrance slowly changed to a faint orange, then deepened into a fiery glow—orange, then red, then an ominous, burning crimson.
Grandma Wilma's expression hardened. In an instant, she leaped onto Altaria's back.
"Aria, back off—now!"
With a powerful whoosh, Altaria spread her cottony wings wide. Her feathers rippled as she beat them in reverse, gliding swiftly away from the cave entrance.
And just in time—
KABOOM!
A fiery explosion erupted at the cave's mouth, sending a shockwave ripping through the cavern. Heat and ice clashed violently, creating a thick, billowing steam cloud that surged toward them, swallowing everything in its path.
Grandma Wilma gasped.
The moment the fire subsided, she urged Altaria into a sharp dive. She didn't care about the biting cold or the roaring blizzard—none of it mattered. Her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. Only one thought echoed in her mind.
Allen. Cynthia.
The thick steam made it nearly impossible to see, but she pressed forward, eyes locked on the cave below. They were in there.
'What was that fire? A Pokémon? Were they in danger?'
"Aria, be ready."
Altaria cooed in response, her keen eyes sharpening as she spread her wings wider. Letting out a sharp cry, she folded them tightly and plunged through the icy winds like a falling star.
As they neared the entrance, Wilma's breath caught.
Through the swirling steam—she saw them. And they also saw her.
Allen had miscalculated. Badly.
He had assumed that since Magby hadn't evolved yet, its Flamethrower would be small—just enough to melt the snow blocking the entrance at a controlled pace. But he hadn't expected the sheer force behind the attack.
In a snow-covered mountain, especially in a cave like this, even the slightest tremor could spell disaster.
The moment Magby's flames died down, Allen didn't waste a second.
Grabbing Cynthia's hand, he sprinted forward, pulling her with him.
With practiced efficiency, he recalled Eevee, Magby, Buizel, and Cherubi into their Pokéballs, leaving only Chingling—perched atop Cynthia's head like a tiny, jingling hat—and Buneary, who clung to her back like a sticker, refusing to let go.
Just as he and Cynthia turned to make their escape—
Grandma Wilma entered the cave.
"..."
Grandma Wilma finally let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Cynthia beamed with excitement, cheering and waving enthusiastically.
As for Allen…
Just as the two were about to exchange warm greetings—
RUMBLE.
A deep, earth-shaking noise interrupted them.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The sound was fast, frantic, and far more terrifying than thunder. It rumbled through the cave, shaking the very ground beneath them.
For over a minute, no one dared to move. They were all frozen in place, scared stiff.
Even the experienced Grandma Wilma turned pale. Her breath hitched as realization struck. "This is a snow avalanche!"
And from the sheer intensity of the sound—her heart clenched. It was massive.
Everyone in town must have heard it. It wasn't just a section of snow sliding down. It sounded like half the mountain had collapsed!
No, wait—NO WAY?!
A dreadful thought shot through her mind.
Her day care.
She dared not think too much—no, she could only hope she was overthinking it.
Please, let me be wrong!
If a drone were hovering over Mt. Coronet right now, the view would be devastating. The plateau along Route 210, including the lone house that once stood isolated, was now completely buried under a thick, unforgiving blanket of snow.
After a full day and night of relentless snowfall—piling onto a week's worth of accumulated snow—the surrounding mountain slopes could no longer bear the weight. Under immense pressure, they finally gave way, triggering the catastrophic collapse.
In Celestic Town, Grandma Dracelia and Grandpa Drayton finally gave up on trying to push through Route 210.
The snowfall this year was far worse than the last, blanketing the town in an unforgiving sheet of white. Just as they reached for the door handle—
BOOM!
A distant, earth-shaking rumble echoed through the mountains. For a moment, everything was eerily silent. Then—
"Something's happened on Route 210! Grandma Wilma's day care was buried!"
Shouts tore through the quiet night as several young men sprinted through the snow-covered streets, pounding on doors. There were always people who made their rounds, checking on neighbors and making sure no one was stranded or in danger.
But this time, the urgency was different. Within minutes, Celestic town was in chaos.
"ALLEN! CYNTHIA!!!"
Grandma Dracelia let out a strangled gasp, nearly collapsing from shock. Grandpa Drayton caught her, his own face pale, but there was no time to waste.
Without hesitation, they grabbed an oil lamp, shielding its flame from the harsh winds as they stepped out into the blizzard.
The commotion spread like wildfire. Doors flew open. Lights flickered to life. People hurriedly pulled on coats and boots.
By the time Mayor Monny arrived, half the town was already gathered. Without hesitation, the mayor took command.
"Everyone, let's move! We don't know how bad it is!" he ordered, releasing his Rhydon and Pillowswine with a heavy thud.
Piloswine charged ahead, its thick fur shielding it from the relentless cold as it plowed through the knee-deep snow, bulldozing everything in its path. Behind it, Mayor Monny rode atop his Aggron, while Grandpa Drayton kept pace with his Electabuzz.
Behind them, people also unleashed their own Pokémon—Machoke on the left and Toxicroak on the right, both wielding shovels, tirelessly clearing the way so the group in the middle could move unhindered.
At the very back, Abomasnow stood as their rear guard, ensuring no one got left behind and keeping watch for any unexpected ambush.
Through the raging blizzard, through the biting cold, they pressed forward—toward Route 210, toward the buried day care, toward Allen, Cynthia, and Grandma Wilma.
Every second counted.