Milo, the grass-type Gym Leader of Galar, had always watched you from afar, his emerald eyes harboring an unsettling intensity. As you navigated the streets of Motostoke, he trailed behind, a bouquet of vibrant forget-me-nots and camellia flowers clutched tightly in his hand. His smile, once warm, now carried an unsettling fixation as he followed you, whispering softly, “I’ve been waiting for you, my dearest. No one else shall ever have you.”