The smoke did not fade.

  It thickened.

  Rosaline stood very still for three heartbeats, watching the dark plume curl above the treeline. Her first instinct was to retreat. To stay within the boundaries of the life she had carefully built.

  This is not your concern.

  The thought was quiet. Reasonable.

  Then another sound reached her.

  A crackle of electricity. Faint, but unmistakable.

  Her breath caught.

  “Pikachu,” she whispered.

  Not the one beside her. That Pikachu was rigid, staring toward the disturbance.

  Another.

  Her chest tightened.

  Gardevoir looked back at her, waiting.

  Rosaline swallowed.

  “We cannot ignore it,” she said softly.

  She set the basket down and stepped toward the forest path. Gardevoir moved with her instantly, presence sharpening into something focused and powerful. Pikachu and Roselia followed at a distance, but Rosaline raised a gentle hand.

  “Stay here,” she said firmly. “Guard the house.”

  Pikachu hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.

  Rosaline and Gardevoir moved quickly through the trees. Not recklessly. Not blindly. But with urgency that felt unfamiliar in her quiet life.

  Branches snapped underfoot. Smoke stung her lungs as they neared the source.

  Voices broke through the trees.

  “Hand over Pikachu, twerp!”

  A female voice, sharp and theatrical.

  “You’re not getting away this time!”

  A boy’s voice, determined and furious.

  Rosaline slowed.

  She knew those voices.

  She knew them from childhood nights under blankets. From pixelated screens and animated reruns. From a world that had once been unreachable.

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  Her heart pounded painfully as she stepped through the last line of trees.

  The clearing beyond was chaos.

  A mechanical contraption loomed in the center, metallic arms extended, crackling with energy. The red R emblazoned across its surface glared in the sunlight.

  Team Rocket.

  Jessie stood dramatically at one side of the machine, hair blazing red against the smoke. James hovered near the controls, expression tense. Meowth darted between panels, shouting instructions.

  And across from them—

  Ash Ketchum.

  Older than the boy from her memories, but unmistakable. Cap pulled low, jaw set stubbornly. Dawn stood beside him, worry flashing across her face. Brock positioned himself protectively, already assessing the situation.

  Ash’s Pikachu lay trapped in one of the machine’s grasping clamps, electricity sparking wildly as it struggled.

  “No!” Ash shouted. “Pikachu!”

  Rosaline’s breath left her in a thin, stunned exhale.

  They were real.

  Not illustrations. Not voices through a speaker.

  Real.

  For a moment, she was a child again, clutching a console beneath dim blankets.

  Then Pikachu cried out in pain.

  The sound shattered the stillness inside her.

  Rosaline stepped forward.

  “Gardevoir,” she said quietly.

  Her partner did not hesitate.

  Psychic energy flared around Gardevoir in a soft but intense glow. The air shimmered as invisible force gripped the mechanical arm holding Pikachu.

  Jessie spun toward them. “Who are you supposed to be?”

  Rosaline ignored her.

  “Carefully,” she murmured.

  The metal screeched as Gardevoir’s psychic hold tightened. Bolts warped. Panels bent inward under precise pressure rather than brute force.

  James scrambled at the controls. “The arm’s malfunctioning!”

  “It’s not malfunctioning,” Meowth snapped. “We’re bein’ attacked!”

  Ash stared, wide-eyed, as the clamp loosened.

  “Now,” Rosaline whispered.

  With a sharp twist of psychic force, Gardevoir tore the mechanical arm free from the main body of the machine. The clamp shattered, releasing Pikachu.

  The small electric Pokémon fell.

  Rosaline moved before she could think.

  She ran forward, dropping to her knees just in time to catch Pikachu against her chest. The impact jolted her arms, but she held firm.

  Pikachu was warm. Shaking. Fur singed lightly at the edges.

  “It’s all right,” she said softly, voice steady despite the chaos. “You’re safe.”

  Pikachu blinked up at her, dazed.

  Ash rushed forward. “Pikachu!”

  He stopped short when he saw her holding his partner.

  Rosaline met his eyes for the first time.

  Brown. Fierce. Earnest.

  Just like she remembered.

  “He’s not badly hurt,” she said quickly. “Just drained.”

  Ash nodded, breath hitching. “Thank you.”

  Behind them, Team Rocket regrouped.

  “Prepare for trouble!” Jessie snapped.

  “And make it double!” James added automatically, though he looked rattled.

  Rosaline stood slowly, handing Pikachu back to Ash.

  Gardevoir stepped forward, positioning itself between Rosaline and the machine. Psychic energy pulsed stronger now, controlled but immense.

  Dawn stared at Gardevoir. “That’s incredible…”

  Brock studied Rosaline with curiosity.

  Team Rocket fired a volley from the remaining intact launcher.

  “Gardevoir,” Rosaline said calmly.

  The projectiles froze midair.

  Suspended.

  Then reversed.

  They shot back toward the machine in a controlled arc, striking its weakened frame. Sparks erupted. Smoke billowed thicker.

  Jessie shrieked. “Retreat!”

  James grabbed Meowth as the machine began to spark violently.

  With a final explosion of smoke and flashing light, Team Rocket blasted off into the sky.

  A distant twinkle followed.

  Silence returned slowly.

  Ash exhaled sharply, clutching Pikachu close. “Are you okay, buddy?”

  Pikachu nodded weakly.

  Rosaline stepped back, hands folding instinctively before she caught herself and let them relax at her sides.

  “You shouldn’t stay here,” she said gently. “The forest is unsettled.”

  Ash looked at her fully now. “You live around here?”

  “Yes.”

  Dawn smiled warmly. “Thank you for helping us. That was amazing.”

  Rosaline felt heat rise faintly to her cheeks.

  “I only did what was necessary,” she said. “Your Pikachu was in pain.”

  Ash grinned suddenly. Bright. Grateful. Uncomplicated.

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”