1. Ash's Story (Part 10: Galar)

Chapter 32: Storm Treasures

"So how do we get to Hammerlocke?" I asked as the road from Generact Town bent back toward the Wild Area. Alice still glanced at her Electric Badge every few steps, but the open wind ahead already carried the smell of grass, water, and changing weather.

Elena pointed toward the distant bridge supports. "We should move through Motostoke Riverbank and cut near Dappled Grove before Bridge Field opens toward Hammerlocke. It is not the shortest-feeling path, but it is the cleanest one."

Pikachu shaded his eyes from my shoulder, ears twitching toward the far bridge, "The road above us and the road below us remember different footsteps."

"I feel that," I said. "We crossed over this area before, but down here it feels like a whole new place."

Flora looked up at the bridge. "It is strange being below something we already passed."

Helen adjusted her bag as the wind pushed at her hair. "From up there, everything looked small. Down here, even the grass feels like it has its own weather."

Gloria laughed lightly, though she kept one hand near Scorbunny's Poké Ball. "That is the Wild Area for you. Maps are suggestions, not promises."

The road widened, then softened into a treed camp edge where Dappled Grove brushed against the fields. We stopped there because the sky looked calm enough for a short rest, and because everyone knew Galar could turn "short rest" into "new problem" without asking.

The rhythm from the grove still lingered in everyone's steps. It made the open field feel less random for a while, like the road had given us a small tool before throwing us into weather and treasure. Even then, I could tell Grookey had joined us with more than playfulness.

It had noticed how quickly a traveling group could scatter, and it had answered with sound. The small thought stayed with me when the trees opened again, because not every capture begins with a fight. Some begin when the road answers back.

Alice set out a small cloth for snacks. Helen unpacked cooking tools. Flora checked the path ahead. I was reaching for water when a tapping sound moved through the grass.

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

Meowth froze with one paw halfway into the snack bag. "That better not be a warning rhythm."

The tapping answered his voice with three brighter knocks from somewhere above. Then it copied Helen's spoon against the pot, Scorbunny's impatient foot, and Pikachu's tail flick against my shoulder strap. The sound was playful, but it kept moving, always one branch ahead of where we looked.

Alice smiled. "Someone is listening to us."

A green Pokémon dropped from the branches with a stick raised like a tiny conductor. Grookey landed on a stump, tapped once, and pointed the stick toward us as if the camp had become its stage.

Grookey beat its stick against the wood, eyes bright with challenge, "If you can follow the road, then follow the rhythm too."

I grinned. "A rhythm challenge instead of a normal battle?"

Grookey struck the stump again. Pikachu answered with a light tail tap. Scorbunny hopped twice. Helen laughed and matched the beat with the spoon, and soon the restless little camp moved together instead of scattering around every sound. Even Gloria's shoulders loosened.

Grookey hopped down and jabbed its stick forward in a quick, neat strike against a fallen twig. The move was light, but precise, more like a lesson than an attack. It looked at me afterward, waiting to see if I understood.

"Branch Poke," Rotom supplied from the phone.

"Grookey," I said, holding out a Poké Ball without pushing closer. "You can keep setting the beat with us if you want."