Night cloaks the city, and the Royale's rooftop arena hums with electricity. Fog coils like smoke around a figure dressed in black.

"So. The MZ fledgling returns. I warned them what happens to bright sparks in the dark..."

Arbok hisses low at his side. But his eyes... they don’t just glare anymore. They twitch, flick, shift. Something isn’t right.

"You think you're special? That you can rewrite the system, beat me?"

A low chuckle escapes him, broken, bitter.

"Let’s see how long you last before the rot sets in. Let’s see what breaks first, your Pokémon… or your mind."