The East Watchtower stood like a sentinel on the edge of the wilds its stone walls time-worn but firm, patched and reinforced by newer masonry. Ivy curled along the corners of the outer barracks, and a few Machop and Timburr helped workers haul timber across the yard. Beyond the walls, the trees of the bordering forest stretched wide and thick prime hunting ground for wild Pokémon… and something more dangerous now.
The wind carried a bite of mountain air, and in the far distance, Soldris Peak loomed, its snowy cap wrapped in mist and legend.
Ren adjusted the strap of his cloak as he, Thomas, and Lia entered the watchtower gates, their boots crunching across the packed gravel path. Guards saluted half-heartedly as they passed, though a few paused to glance curiously at the newcomers.
A man awaited them near the inner courtyard.
He stood tall taller than most with short black hair streaked with silver, and a weathered coat draped over standard Ravelle armor. A single blue sash hung from his hip, denoting rank. A Camerupt rested behind him, its eyes half-lidded but alert, molten smoke curling from its back.
"You must be the trio Commander Seris sent," he said, voice like gravel. "I'm Captain Roen. Welcome to East watchtower ."
The three saluted Thomas with unnecessary flair, Lia with cold precision, and Ren with a curt nod.
"Report," Roen said simply.
Ren stepped forward. "We encountered three wild Pokémon about half a day's ride from here. All showed signs of crimson eye corruption. Veins visible. Slightly enhanced aggression. But not nearly at the level of the Tyranitar."
"Species?" Roen asked.
"Scyther, Mightyena, Pangoro," Ren replied.
Roen scratched his chin. "That matches with other reports this week. We've logged six attacks mostly near outposts and the southern trail. Whatever's affecting them, it's spreading."
He turned to look toward the forest. "It used to be you'd see that sort of thing once in a blue moon. Now it's weekly."
"Do we know the cause?" Lia asked bluntly.
"If we did," Roen replied, "we'd have stopped it."
He paused, watching a pair of guards lead a wounded Rapidash toward the stables.
"Some say it's a sickness. Others energy corruption. But nothing conclusive."
Ren exchanged a glance with his companions.
"Come," Roen said. "You'll need to know your footing."
He led them through the main courtyard, where soldiers were training with both blade and Pokémon. A Machoke was sparring with a Heracross under the command of two guards. Shouts and steel rang through the air.
"The East Watchtower isn't just a defense post," Roen explained. "We're a frontier line. Which means reconnaissance, supply patrols, and first contact."
They passed through a small stone archway leading into the main keep. Inside, narrow stone hallways opened into rooms packed with scrolls, weapons, and crude maps of the region.
"We track every sighting," Roen said, gesturing to the map. "Red markings are attacks. You'll notice they're closing in from the forest's edge."
Sure enough, crimson ink dots marked the progression inward like a disease.
"And this," he said, turning toward a spiral staircase, "is where you'll be sleeping."
He brought them to a chamber on the second floor three cots, one window, and a single lantern.
"Get used to it ."
---
They regrouped in the central hall an hour later, where Roen reviewed their roles.
"Ren," he said, facing him, "you're attached to the rotating patrol squads. You'll be running recon along the forest edge with a team of four. Report anything out of the ordinary. If crimson-eyed Pokémon show up, do not engage unless forced."
Ren nodded. "Understood."
"Lia," Roen continued, "you're assigned to the tracking detail. We've got a few missing merchants and scouts. You'll be assisting the ranger unit."
She didn't blink. "Good."
"Thomas," Roen said, "you're going to the command archive."
Thomas blinked. "The archive?"
"Until we're confident you won't set the forest on fire," Roen said gruffly. "You're helping the scribes compile corruption logs."
Thomas sighed. "That sounds like paperwork."
"You're lucky it isn't stable cleaning."
He turned back to all of them. "Your shifts start tomorrow at dawn. Until then, get some rest. And stay within the walls. We've had reports of Pokémon watching the tower at night."
---
Back in their quarters, Thomas dropped onto his cot with a loud thud, staring up at the ceiling. "This place is more intense than I thought. I figured we'd get a warm bed and maybe a few stray Ekans."
Ren sat near the window, eyes tracing the jagged shape of Soldris Peak.
"Commander Seris wouldn't have sent us here unless something was wrong," he said.
Lia leaned against the wall, her Persian grooming itself nearby.
"Do you really think it's spreading?" she asked quietly.
Ren didn't answer right away. He reached into his cloak and pulled out the parchment Seris gave him.
> "Watch the forest."
"Trust your instincts."
"And be ready."
He clenched the note between his fingers.
"I think we're already behind."
---
Morning came before the sun had properly risen, slipping through the thin veil of mist that curled along the forest line. Ren sat up from his cot, instinct guiding his hand toward the travel pack near his bed. The room was cold, but not unbearable stone walls and wind did that. The sound of boots and murmuring soldiers from outside their quarters stirred the rest of the tower into motion.
Lia had already gone her bed was empty and perfectly made, not even a wrinkle in the blanket. Thomas, on the other hand, was still sprawled out with a pillow over his head, snoring faintly.
Ren left him behind and made his way down the winding staircase toward the main hall, greeted by the familiar scent of boiled oats and torch smoke. The mess hall was half-full already, with soldiers seated in tired clusters, gear laid out beside their bowls. A few of them gave Ren curious glances as he entered. Some seemed dismissive, others quietly interested.
He grabbed a bowl, a hunk of hard bread, and sat at an empty spot near the corner. His Braviary was still outside, watching from above the tower. Lucario remained in his ball best to conserve energy until needed.
Before he could finish his meal, a shadow loomed over his table. A tall man in light chainmail stood there, arms crossed. His dark stubble and gray eyes gave him the air of someone who'd long outgrown idealism.
"You're the new kid," he said flatly.
Ren looked up, nodding once.
"Name's Darran. Squad three. You're on patrol with us."
Without another word, Darran turned and walked off. Ren scarfed down the rest of his food and followed.
They met the rest of the squad in the southern yard. Darran was there, already prepping his Ursaring. Another man named Kez was adjusting the straps on a Rhyhorn's saddle. A woman, Breya, fed berries to her Torkoal, who huffed lazily with every breath. The fourth was a wiry boy with nervous eyes and an Audino clearly not a battler, more of a medic.
"This your first time in live patrol?" Kez asked.
Ren nodded.
"Don't overthink it. If something moves that shouldn't, we hit it or run. Mostly run."
Darran adjusted his arm guards. "The woods past the southeast ridge are the problem. Used to be peaceful. Now half the trees growl if you breathe too loud."
They handed Ren a basic patrol cloak, dyed forest green. The group moved out not long after, passing through the east gate and into the trail-laced wilds of Ravelle's outer rim.
The forest here was different from Riverleaf. Older. Wilder. Trees twisted in strange angles, thick with moss and long-forgotten stories. Fog clung to the roots and shadows between the trunks.
Hours passed. They moved quietly, stopping only to note tracks or fresh claw marks against trees. Darran pointed out broken underbrush and odd footprints a Nidorino maybe, or a Gogoat but no sign of anything corrupted. Still, the tension never left.
Ren kept scanning the forest edge. The quiet was wrong. Too deep. Too long.
As they stopped near a stream to refill canteens, Breya broke the silence.
"You from the academy, right?"
Ren nodded. "Second year."
"You the one that fight the Tyranitar?"
"Helped," he replied.
"Then you've seen it. The eyes."
He nodded again.
Breya leaned back against a rock. "They say it's getting worse near Soldris. Pokémon changing overnight. Whole flocks of Pidgeotto just vanishing. The locals stopped hunting. They say the mountain's stirring."
Ren frowned. "Stirring?"
"There's a shrine buried somewhere near the base," she said. "Old story. Says a Guardian sleeps beneath the ice."
"That's just superstition," Kez muttered.
"Is it?" Breya asked quietly. "You seen what's been happening?"
They fell into silence again.
The rest of the patrol passed without incident, but as they began heading back toward the tower, they came upon a broken cart half-sunken into the trail. Burn marks on the wood. Blood in the dirt. No body.
"Merchant caravan," Darran muttered, crouching beside the wreckage. "Fresh. One day, maybe two."
Ren scanned the trees. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. There were tracks nearby deep and heavy. More than one. At least two Pokémon, maybe more. One print was wide and clawed.
Kez clicked his tongue. "We need to mark this and return. We're not equipped to go after whatever did this."
Ren hesitated.
Darran looked at him. "You're thinking about chasing it."
"I'm thinking it might not be far."
"Exactly. And that's the problem. We're not hunters, kid. Not today."
The walk back was quiet. Everyone was on edge. The shadows under the trees seemed deeper now, darker.
Back at the tower, they submitted their report. Roen wasn't pleased there'd been two other sightings of damaged caravans that week. He ordered increased perimeter patrols and longer rotations.
Ren was dismissed not long after. His muscles ached from the hours of travel, but his mind buzzed with tension. The more he saw of the corrupted Pokémon, the more he realized the academy had barely prepared him for any of this.
He made his way to the west parapet, a quiet place to clear his thoughts. The tower bell tolled below. The sun dipped behind the trees, casting gold and violet hues across the horizon. In the far distance, a storm gathered over Soldris Peak, lightning dancing behind the clouds.
He pulled out his Poké Ball and released Combusken, who sat beside him with a soft grunt. Ren handed it a strip of jerky, which it snatched with a bark of gratitude.
"You fought well," Ren said. "But we need to do better."
Combusken nodded solemnly, firelight flickering in its eyes.
Footsteps approached behind him. It was Lia.
"You missed dinner," she said, arms crossed.
"Not hungry."
She walked to the edge beside him, looking out toward the mountain.
"They said the Tyranitar you fought could level buildings. That true?"
Ren was quiet for a moment, then nodded.
"It wasn't just its power," he said. "It didn't feel… alive. Like something was using it."
Lia didn't reply. Her Persian padded up beside her, eyes locked on the storm in the distance.
"Captain Roen says the corruption is getting worse," she said softly. "Closer to Soldris. If you believe in stories… they say there's something sealed up there. A key. A prison. Maybe both."
"I don't believe in stories," Ren said.
Lia raised a brow.
"I believe in what I can fight."
She smirked faintly. "Then let's hope you can fight what's coming."
They stood in silence as the sky turned to dusk, the wind picking up and carrying with it the scent of coming rain and something else. Something faint. Something unnatural.
Ren clenched his fist.
He wasn't just here to patrol anymore.
He was here to learn the truth.
And he had a feeling that soon, it would find him first.