The Pantheon

The Indigo Conference - Part II

Lance lounged deeper into the velvet-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other, arms stretched along the backrest like he owned the entire room. Technically, he didn't. But it was the VIP salon of the Indigo Plateau, and if anyone had earned the right to act like the place was his living room, it was him.

The lights were low, the air was cold, and the view of the battle played out on the sleek central screen. One of the assistants had wheeled in a cart with tea, lemon water, and some overly elegant finger sandwiches no one was eating.

Bruno sat closest to the screen, massive arms crossed and eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He didn't say much during matches unless something genuinely impressed him, and even then, it usually came out as a grunt.

Koga stood beside the bar in the corner, leaning against the counter, arms folded. He hadn't stopped watching since the first match Ashley had won. His expression barely changed, but Lance had caught him smiling—just a little—after that Trailblaze trick with the poisoned tank.

Lorelei lounged sideways in one of the armchairs, legs tucked up, a glass of iced tea balanced casually in one hand. She hadn't looked away from the screen the entire time Vulcan was on the field.

And then there was Agatha. Even after retiring she was here besides them, cane in hand, back straight, and eyes sharp.

Lance sipped from his teacup. It was too hot, but he didn't care.

The screen replayed Vulcan's final Extreme Speed. The camera cut to Ashley—calm, casual, brushing some dirt off her glove—before fading into the post-battle analysis.

Bruno hummed. That was as close to applause as it got from him.

"She's still wasting a fraction of Vulcan's full potential," Lorelei commented, not unkindly. "But her battle style is balanced, and she keeps him stable throughout the many changes of pace during battles."

"Mm," Koga agreed. "Her restraint is precise."

Agatha let out a single dry laugh. "It's not restraint, it's control. The girl learned it too well."

Lance said nothing.

He stared at the screen as they brought up trainer stats. Ashley's profile came up, clean and minimal, with her battle win record blinking neatly in the corner. Undefeated in the eliminatory rounds. Currently projected to top her bracket.

And not a single interaction with him.

He swallowed the heat in his throat with another sip of tea. Still too hot.

It wasn't about pride. Not entirely. He was genuinely glad she was doing well. Mercury and Vulcan had both grown immensely, and their synergy on the field was proof of it. He'd studied the clips, watching their footwork and timing their attacks. Her coordination was sharp, her read time had even improved.

But it still left him feeling off.

Lorelei had mentored her personally since almost the start of her journey. Koga had trained her briefly during her rotation through Fuchsia. Bruno had met her during one of the Gym inspections and hadn't stopped talking about the discipline in her movement. Even Agatha—Agatha, who barely acknowledged people under sixty—had been hounding Ashley to get a Ghost-type.

Lance had nothing.

He tapped his finger against the cup. A little harder than he meant to, but no one noticed.

Well, one person did.

Agatha chuckled, turning to look at him with a mean little smirk. "What's the matter, Champion? You jealous the girl didn't ask you to mentor her?"