Before Xiu could fully process the dramatic takedown of the Gyarados; the Dragonair, floating weakly in the air after unleashing its storm-calling power, suddenly faltered. Its elegant form drooped, energy completely spent. It began to plummet towards the ground.
Just before impact, however, a faint blue aura flickered around its body – Abra's Telekinesis intervening. The Dragonair's descent halted abruptly, suspended inches above the muddy earth. Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, it was drawn rapidly away, vanishing into the sheeting rain towards the direction Xiu had come from. Abra was retrieving it, keeping it safe.
Seeing this, Xiu didn't hesitate. He turned and melted back into the storm-lashed darkness himself, retreating from the chaotic scene. No point sticking around now. The immediate threat was neutralized, but the situation remained dangerous.
The Kangaskhan, seeming to receive some unspoken signal – perhaps a telepathic message from Abra, or simply sensing the shift in the battle's tide – also began a tactical withdrawal, lumbering back towards the relative safety of the trees, disappearing into the gloom.
The fierce battlefield, moments before filled with clashing titans and elemental fury, fell strangely silent, empty save for the unconscious Gyarados, the stunned Drowzee, and the solitary figure of the masked man standing amidst the downpour.
The invisible shield that had kept the rain off him flickered and died. Raindrops plastered his dark raincoat to his form, slicking back his hair where it escaped the mask.
Gyarados, seriously injured, potentially fatal. Drowzee, knocked unconscious. The psychic tracker he'd subtly placed on the Dragonair during the initial encounter? Gone, likely disrupted or destroyed by the massive electrical discharge.
It meant… failure. Utter, complete failure.
The masked man recalled his Drowzee with a grim finality. He didn't even spare a glance for the fallen Gyarados. Turning his back on the scene, he began walking away, disappearing back into the storm as silently and mysteriously as he had arrived.
He knew the mission was lost. They'd been delayed too long. The park's security forces would be converging now. Staying longer meant capture. He had to get out, vanish back into the network, report the failure. How he'd infiltrated the park remained his secret; and how he'd leave would be just as clandestine. Behind him, the storm raged on, the fires of greed and conflict still burning elsewhere within the park's borders, slowly being extinguished or burning themselves out under the relentless rain.
— — —
Meanwhile, Xiu, guided by Abra's psychic senses, rendezvoused with the small Pokémon deeper in the woods. Abra gently lowered the unconscious Dragonair to the ground. Xiu ran, prioritizing distance, putting as much space as possible between them and the powerful masked poacher. He only skidded to a halt when Abra mentally signaled that the Dragonair was stirring.
He watched warily as the serpentine Pokémon's eyes fluttered open. It shook its head, disoriented, then, remembering, instinct took over. It coiled, ready to defend itself or flee, its ruby eyes fixing on Xiu. Seeing it break free from Abra's psychic hold and begin to rise into the air, Xiu felt a spike of fear, not relief. That storm-calling power... if Dragonair perceived him as a threat now... he'd be instantly incinerated.
"Wait! I'm from the park!" Xiu blurted out, raising his hands defensively. "We helped you! We saved you!" He threw out the most favorable framing he could think of, hoping to establish common ground.
But Dragonair seemed unconvinced. Suspicion hardened its gaze. The pearl on its neck began to glow faintly again, and Xiu felt the wind whipping around him intensify, carrying a distinct, menacing edge.
Just as tension reached a breaking point, Abra floated protectively in front of Xiu. From behind, the Kangaskhan, having caught up silently, stepped forward, placing its massive body between Dragonair and Xiu, shielding the Happiny still safely tucked in its pouch. It let out a low, rumbling sound, directed at the Dragonair – not aggressive, but perhaps questioning, mediating.
Seeing the Kangaskhan's intervention, Xiu took a calculated risk. "That big move back there," he called out, stepping out slightly from behind the Kangaskhan's bulk, deliberately making himself visible, vulnerable. "Summoning that thunder... it took a lot out of you, didn't it?"
Dragonair reacted sharply to Xiu stepping into the open, rising higher, looking down on him imperiously.
Xiu stood his ground, strangely calm now. "You don't have much strength left, do you?" he continued, his voice steady despite the rain and wind. "I can see it. Your body... it's trembling."
His words seemed to strike a nerve, piercing Dragonair's proud facade. The faint glow around its pearl faded. Its elegant form sagged visibly in the air, the last of its energy reserves depleted. It began to drift downwards, unable to maintain flight.
"Abra, catch it!" Xiu commanded instantly, pushing aside any lingering fear.
Abra's telekinetic grip enveloped the falling Dragonair, gently lowering it until it floated weakly in front of Xiu.
"We're not enemies," Xiu said softly, meeting Dragonair's exhausted gaze. "You need to conserve your strength. Let us help."
He didn't wait for a response. He turned, indicating for Kangaskhan and Abra to follow. He led them away, but not back towards the bay, not deeper into the unknown wilderness. A new destination.
Running away had been the plan when he was the vulnerable one. But now, with Dragonair – unconscious, powerless, but incredibly valuable and clearly a high-priority target – staying hidden within the park felt paradoxically safer. Leaving the park boundaries now might lead them straight into another ambush.
He needed to get Dragonair somewhere safe, somewhere defensible. 'The lake.' He recalled the geography – the lake Dragonair had been fighting near was in the northeast sector. Relatively isolated, fed by a small upstream river, with its outflow eventually leading towards the sea. If Dragonair could just reach the water...
'Gyarados is down. That powerful masked hunter might be gone. As long as Dragonair stayed submerged, hidden in the depths, no one could easily track or capture it.'
Putting it in a Poké Ball would be easiest, but Dragonair's earlier hostility made Xiu wary. Better not risk further provoking the weakened pseudo-legendary.
Perhaps the park's security had regained control, or perhaps this area truly was remote enough to be overlooked in the chaos. Their journey to the lake was blessedly uneventful. No more masked figures, no sounds of distant fighting. The storm even seemed to be easing slightly, the rain lessening to a steady downpour.
They reached the shore of the secluded lake.
"Hide here," Xiu instructed the Dragonair, gesturing towards the dark water. "Stay deep. Don't surface unless you have to. No one can catch you if you stay underwater."
He signaled Abra. The telekinetic hold released. Dragonair, with a final, weary glance at Xiu and the Kangaskhan, slid silently into the lake, disappearing beneath the surface without a ripple.
Seeing it safely hidden, Xiu felt a measure of relief. He recalled Abra, nodded his thanks to the Kangaskhan, and turned to leave. Time to get himself and his own dependents somewhere safe.
As they disappeared back into the trees, none of them noticed a shape slowly surface near the middle of the lake, watching their retreating forms with intelligent, ruby-red eyes before sinking silently back into the depths.
And high above, hidden within the roiling thunderclouds, another figure, fleetingly illuminated by a distant lightning flash, observed the departure before vanishing back into the storm.
— — —
Park Headquarters
"Third tactical team encountering heavy resistance in Central Plaza! Requesting immediate backup!"
"Acknowledged. Rerouting Team Five and Seven to support Team Three."
"Command report! Enemy transport vehicle located and disabled at East Sector junction."
"Good work, Team Four. Proceed with caution."
"Command report, Team Five reports signal jammers neutralized along the northern perimeter, communications restored in North Sector."
"Report: Poacher presence confirmed near Kangaskhan nesting grounds, northern hills. Suspects neutralized, target Pokémon Kangaskhan unaccounted for."
"..."
Inside the brightly lit, bunker-like command center beneath the park's main administration building, the atmosphere was electric. Staff moved with hurried efficiency, voices clipped and professional amidst the constant chatter of radio traffic. Information flooded in – reports from rangers in the field, updates from security teams, alerts from automated sensors. Data streams scrolled across large monitors, painting a chaotic but increasingly clear picture of the night's events onto a digital map of the Wilderness Area.
In stark contrast to the controlled chaos outside, the central conference room was hushed, occupied by only a handful of senior park officials. At the head of the long table sat Bao Ba, the park director. Despite the ongoing crisis, the attack on his park, he appeared unnervingly calm, slowly reviewing the incoming reports displayed on a tablet, his gold teeth glinting occasionally in the harsh overhead light.
A runner entered, handed Bao Ba a final summary report, and quickly retreated. Bao Ba read it, his expression unchanging. Then, he tossed the tablet onto the table with a soft thud, stood up, and leaned forward, planting his hands firmly on the polished wood. He surveyed the silent officials around the table, his gaze sweeping over them like a predator assessing its prey.
The already tense atmosphere in the room thickened, becoming almost suffocating. Then, Bao Ba's impassive face cracked into a wide, chilling grin, revealing the full extent of his gold dental work.
"The situation," he announced, his voice low but resonant, "is contained."
A collective sigh of relief went through most of the officials present. Nervous chatter broke out.
"The Hunter Organization... didn't think they'd dare target us directly. Good thing you anticipated this, Director."
"We're too close to their usual smuggling routes. The number of confiscated Pokémon we've processed lately... it's become a massive burden."
"What do we do with the captured poachers? Hand them straight to the League?"
The discussion quickly devolved into logistics and recriminations. Only a few officials remained silent, sitting stiffly, their expressions unreadable.
As the chatter veered further off-topic, Bao Ba cleared his throat, a sharp, commanding sound that instantly silenced the room.
"The external problem is resolved," he stated, his grin vanishing, replaced by a cold hardness. "Now... it is time to address the internal problem."
A ripple of confusion went through the assembled officials. Bao Ba let the silence hang for a beat before dropping his bombshell, his voice dangerously soft.
"Let me ask you all a question. That Dragonair... the one the Conservationist Association secretly entrusted to our care just days ago... how did the Hunter Organization know exactly where to find it? How did they know it was even here?"
He paused, his eyes narrowing, sweeping across their faces again.
"Because, gentlemen, the only people who knew about that Dragonair... are sitting in this very room."