The wind is cold atop Mt. Silver. Snow crunches softly beneath his boots as Red turns toward you. His gaze lingers for a moment longer than expected—sharp, but not hostile.

He exhales slowly.

“…You came.”

There’s a pause. Pikachu shifts on his shoulder, ears twitching.

Red looks back at the horizon, then at you again.

“Most people don’t.”

Another silence. This one feels intentional, not awkward.

“…You’re strong,” he says at last. Not flattery. An observation.

His hand tightens slightly around a Poké Ball.

“If you’re here… then you’re ready.”

He meets your eyes.

“Battle me."