The Pantheon

Alola! Alola!

Ashley tilted her head back against the cushy headrest of her first-class seat, letting the soft hum of the plane settle over her. Her drink—some absurdly sweet pineapple juice with way too much garnish for something that wasn't alcoholic—rested in the cupholder, condensation dripping slowly down the plastic. The flight attendant had smiled extra wide when delivering it, like maybe she recognized Ashley. Or maybe she was just being polite. Hard to tell these days.

The screen of her PokéNav glowed faintly in her lap, even as the sun hit hard through the window. They were somewhere above the ocean now—between Indigo and Alola—and Ashley had already kicked off her shoes and curled one leg up under the other. Her socks had little Castform patterns on them. The irony wasn't lost on her.

She scrolled absently. Headlines blurred by.
"WEATHER MISTRESS CROWNS HER REIGN AT INDIGO!"
"Ashley's Tactical Genius: The Rise of the Pantheon."
"Tartarus: The Signature Move That Broke the Conference."

There were more. Too many. Her face—sweaty, tired, tear-streaked—plastered across every one of them. Some stills caught her mid-yell, others as she hugged Mars or cracked up at something Gary had said. She wasn't sure how many cameras had been on them, but judging by the angles, all of them. Theories ranged from "Ashley to challenge Lance in six months?" to "Hoenn confirms she's getting a field invite."

She sipped the pineapple juice slowly, letting the straw clink a little against the ice.

The real goldmine, though, was the comment section.

Tartarus was apparently already trending. People were dissecting the entire Pluto vs Nidoking match like it had been a religious experience. One comment had gone full academia mode, referencing Greek underworld myths and how fitting it was that the move hadn't landed, as if that made it more powerful.

Ashley grinned and scrolled further.

And then she saw it.

"Honestly, the Weather Witch strikes again 🔥💨🌪️🌊 QUEEN."

Oh boy.

The replies were immediate.

"It's Weather Mistress, get it right."
"She literally said she prefers Mistress in her victory speech??"
"Weather Witch sounds cooler tho."
"Okay but like, have you seen her command a sandstorm?"
"Tartarus > anything Galar's been doing for years."
"Say Weather Witch one more time I dare you—"

Ashley choked on her drink. She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud and waking up the poor businessman two seats away. His Herdier was curled into his lap snoring softly, completely unfazed.

With a quick flick, she changed the tab. She'd save that comment section for later. Maybe when she could show it to the team and watch Proserpina and Venus start throwing petals at each other over which term had more aesthetic value.

She leaned her head against the window. The clouds below looked fluffy enough to nap on, and for a second, it hit her just how quiet it was.

No battle orders. No screaming fans. No strategy maps or elite trainers breathing down her neck. Just her, the soft rumble of the plane, and a full team ready to be spoiled rotten by a League-endorsed Pokémon spa.

Ashley smiled a little. This—this was the break they needed. And maybe when they got back... she'd figure out what the hell she was supposed to do with a key stone, a Mega Stone, and an Elite Four internship offer that still felt like a typo.

But not now. For now, she had pineapple juice, socked feet, and six more hours to Alola. She sank a little deeper into the seat and opened a new tab on her PokéNav.