“Kilowatrel use thunderbolt!” The frigatebird Pokémon was surrounded by an electrical storm, before releasing the crackling energy at its opponent, but it was too slow. Its opponent jumped, soaring into the air, its green wings spreading like a cape. Its yellow eyes, surrounded by orange eyeliner, narrowed as it focused on its enemy down below.
“Gavilán, use poison jab!” yelled his trainer from down below. The Hawlucha’s right hand began to glow purple as he raised it above his head before bringing it down into a dive, aiming straight for the Kilowatrel’s chest.
“Kilowatrel dodge it!” yelled its trainer, but again it was too slow. Gavilán’s hand connected in midair, his momentum overpowering the Kilowatrel as both plummeted towards the ground, the impact kicking up a cloud of dust. A crowd of people stood and stared at the battle, eager to see who had won. Inside the cloud, a shadow stood. The onlookers gasped. Which bird Pokémon had won? Was it their hero, El Gavilán, or had the undefeated Royale participant finally lost a match?
The dust settled. Standing triumphantly over a battered and bruised Kilowatrel, was El Gavilán, the people’s champion. The crowd screamed in excitement, chanting out the Hawlucha’s name. “We love you El Gavilán!” “If anyone’s going to win the Royale you are!” “There’s no Pokémon you can’t beat!”
Standing atop the Kilowatrel, El Gavilán only smiled. His trainer, Maddie, came up behind him and raised his fist into the air like a wrestler. “Great job El Gavilán,” she said. “Just a few more battles and we’ll be A-Rank in no time!”
The Kilowatrel’s trainer came over to congratulate Maddie on the win. With him defeated they had enough battle points for a promotion match and, if El Gavilán kept up his winning streak, come tomorrow they would be C-Rank. The Hawlucha was on top of the world, but despite his forced smile, he wasn’t happy. This victory, and his entire rise to fame, was tainted. And in the shadows of a nearby alley, watching him was the source of this taint. A Barbaracle.
They stood perfectly out of sight from the crowd, only visible to El Gavilán. They didn’t need to give any signal or make any gesture. This dance had been done many times before, but today would be the last.
Without warning El Gavilán jumped from the city street to the top of a nearby building. The crowd watched in awe as the Wrestling Pokémon expertly spread his cape-like wings to catch the updraft, giving him the momentum to make the leap. He landed, then turned and gave a bow. It was his signature exit move. He did it after every battle, the only way to attend his secret meetings without arousing suspicion. Even Maddie didn’t know where he went. She didn’t know anything at all.
The Hawlucha crossed the building’s roof, getting out of sight from the applauding crowd, then jumped down into the alley where the Barbaracle was waiting.
“Another good fight,” they said, all seven of their Binacle speaking in unison.
“I’m done,” El Gavilán said flatly.
“What?!” the main head of Barbaracle said. Their arms and legs chittered to each other in surprise. “You can’t be done. You still have to make it to A-Rank.”
El Gavilán narrowed his eyes. “I quit. None of this is fair.”
“You were fine with that when you signed on.” Barbaracle didn’t raise their voice, but El Gavilán could feel the anger rising in their cadence.
“I’ve changed my mind. Those crowds. Their applause. All of the praise. None of it is real. None of it is right.”
“The battles are real.”
“Oh please,” Gavilán scoffed. “I know you rig them. That Kilowatrel was two levels above me. I have a double weakness to both of its types. I should’ve lost.”
“But you didn’t,” Barbaracle said coldly. “You didn’t even choose to lose. Because at the end of the day, this is all you have. If we had never picked you up off the streets, you would still be a nobody. Aimlessly drifting about looking for the next battle, recklessly trying to prove yourself to anybody stupid enough to give you a challenge. And your trainer, well, she may have just ended it all-”
“Don’t bring her into this!” El Gavilán snapped.
“…And gone back home,” Barbaracle finished. “Back to her parent’s tax return office, forever giving up on the dream. You owe everything to Malamar. Never forget that.”
Barbaracle turned and began to walk away. His words rang out in Gavilán’s head. This was a fight, a fight of pride and of freedom, and he never walked away from a fight. The Hawlucha grabbed a rock and chucked it at the Barbaracle, hitting them square on the head. They turned quickly, scorn written on their faces.
“If I owe everything to Malamar why isn’t he here.” El Gavilán spat. “Why does he send his lackeys like a coward instead of coming himself. Or does he not have enough respect to meet those caught in his trap face-to-face??”
“Oh, I always come to see my best agent,” oozed a voice from the back of the alley. A cold chill went up the Hawlucha’s spine. Floating out of the shadows, a sly grin on his beak, was Malamar. “I’ve been there for every one of your battles, big and small.” His voice was as slick as an oil spill, but at the same time brimming with charisma. It was the kind of voice that framed everything it said as truth, and made you believe it.
“How else do you think those crowds get so… wild?” He floated around the startled Hawlucha, putting extra emphasis on the “wild.” “Like Barbaracle said, you owe it all to me.”
El Gavilán hung his head, avoiding Malamar’s gaze. A tentacle forced it upwards, making him meet his employer’s wild eyes. The once proud Hawlucha, who had never lost a battle, was nothing more than a mouse in Malamar’s trap.
“Tomorrow is your promotion match,” he said. “You will be battling Hercules the Heracross. And you are going to win. Do you understand?” El Gavilán nodded the best he could.
“Good.” Malamar released his grip. “I’m glad we’re back to seeing eye to eye.” And with that Malamar and Barbaracle disappeared into the night, leaving El Gavilán all alone in the damp dark alleyway. He slumped on the back of a dumpster and fell to the ground. How had it come to this? All he had ever wanted was the chance to fight, to battle with the best of them. He had gotten that wish, but at such a terrible cost…
“Sounds like you’ve got it rough.” El Gavilán looked up. The alleyway was deserted, yet he was sure he had just heard a voice. Did he imagine it?
“Who would’ve thought the famous El Gavilán was stuck in debt to some mafioso wannabe Malamar.” No, there was definitely someone else here.
“Who’s there?” El Gavilán said into the night.
“Oh, I’m sure you already know me," the voice said. It sounded like it was perpetually on the edge of laughter. "I’m almost as famous as you after all. Though, no one has ever actually seen me and lived to tell the tale.” At the back of the alleyway, the shadows began to move. They danced about, twisting this way and that, moving upwards to form a dark cloud in the shape of a person. Two purple eyes appeared at the cloud’s “head.” “Pleasure to meet you. I’m the Phantom of Lumiose,” it said.
El Gavilán’s eyes went wide. He and Maddie had been following the story intently. He knew what was about to happen next, and he would not go down without a fight. The fighter readied himself, putting his hands up in a combat stance. The Phantom began to laugh. “Oh relax, I’m not here for you.” This surprised El Gavilán, but it could be a trick. He didn’t let his guard down. “Oh really?” He said.
“Well,” said the Phantom. “I was originally. Just think, making the famous El Gavilán disappear in a puff of smoke! The city would go mad... But then I heard your story, and I got to thinking. You’re in quite the impossible position, and after all Malamar and Barbaracle are both on my list. So, I thought why not kill two invertebrates by helping one bird.”
“You… want to help me?” This surprised El Gavilán even more. Why would the Phantom of Lumiose, the most wanted criminal in the city, want his help? Surely it was a trick. He still didn’t let his guard down.
“Yes I do,” the Phantom said. “Throughout my personal quest I’ve come across something… big. Something that even the paper isn’t aware of. Some grand conspiracy, all surrounding that Malamar, and I feel you’re the perfect Pokémon to help me dismantle it.”
El Gavilán tuned the Phantom’s words over in his head. He knew Malamar was up to something, so it was probably telling the truth. But… “What’s stopping you from making me disappear after I help you?”
The Phantom put a shadowy arm on its chest. “You have my word.” That wasn’t much, but did he really have a choice? “And if I say no?”
The Phantom’s glowing eyes narrowed, and its voice turned serious. “Then it all ends right here right now, and you join my collection. You’ll never find out how the story ends or see your trainer Maddie ever again.” He suddenly went back to his previous carefree stance. “Sorry for putting you in another impossible position, but it’s my nature.”
El Gavilán sighed, there was no choice. It was live or die, and he wanted to live. “Alright. I’ll help you.”
“Wonderful!” The Phantom snapped. “Then we’ve got a deal.” It extended its arm for a handshake, but El Gavilán kept in his fighting stance. After a few moments of silence, the Phantom rescinded its hand. “Alright then, I’ll take your word for it. And if you happen to flake out…” its eyes narrowed again. “I know where to find you.”
El Gavilán didn’t say a word.
“Well then,” the Phantom relaxed. “I must be off. Have to find another Hawlucha to replace you after all. We’ll meet again tomorrow, right before your fight.” And with that the Phantom dissipated into the shadows, leaving El Gavilán alone once more.
He remained in his fighting stance for a few minutes after the Phantom had left, just in case this really was a trick. But the Phantom never came back. Slowly, he began to relax. Maddie was probably getting worried by now. If the Phantom’s words were true, he and Maddie might never have to worry again.
El Gavilán jumped to the rooftops, setting off for home. As he left, a Glameow slinked out of the roof’s shadows. She had heard everything.

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