“Mr. Jynerva?”

A doorway supported merely with wooden supports left no barrier to entry. Out of re- spect, a Lucario walked up and peered his head through. The room he was looking into was enclosed purely by dirt and stone, with a ceiling upheld by wooden pillars that pre- vented it from collapsing. Inside, he saw a male Grovyle sitting in front of a wooden desk of a very plain and uninteresting design. The Lucario, also male, could see on the desk a small wicker basket that resembled a cup that contained a few feather quills from var- ious bird Pokémon; an inkwell to the side; a lit candle, tipped with a dancing flame, that rested in a silver taper holder; and a blank sheet of paper lying in front of him. To the side of the desk was a much larger wicker basket containing crumpled up paper. Around the remainder of the room could he also see a set of open wooden drawers mostly con- taining documents, and a bed with a mattress filled with straw and a feather-filled pillow.

“Yes, Jarus?” The Grovyle’s arms crossed, then sighed before turning his head to face the doorway.

“The Circle is crowding in the amphitheater,” Jarus explained as he stepped into the makeshift bedroom. “They’re restless and awaiting your speech, sir.”

“I thought so.” In his seat, Jynerva crossed one leg over the other. “Despite my best ef- forts, I haven’t... been able to write a good speech for them. I know what to say. I have the inspiration, as anyone needs. What I lack are—”

“The words.” Jarus placed one paw on each of the Grovyle’s shoulders. A blue, auric ra- diance glowed from them. Moments later, he backed away and smiled, watching as Jy- nerva stretched his arms and stood up.

“Well, an aura massage is welcome,” he thanked before moving out of the room.

“Not making a draft, are you?”

“No. This is going to be off the cuff.”

Walking through several twists and turns, rooms big and small, this would be the last time they’d see these torchlit tunnels. They soon entered the amphitheater: a huge, cir- cular room they used to entertain and motivate their personnel. On that day, they were full. Every seat was occupied, some even unable to find a seat.

They watched the Grovyle and Lucario walk up a few steps onto the platform, then turn- ed to approach the podium. With Jarus standing on the sidelines, Jynerva breathed deep- ly, only once. The audience awaited his words with bated breath.

“Brothers and sisters,” he began, arms behind his back. “We have tried, again and again, to persuade the Arvilios Monarchy to revoke their plans to return our people to the hu- mans we fled from in Sycamore City. We remember the things they’ve done to us. Kid- nappings. Sacrifices. Things that only a cult would do to anyone. They’ve had our trust. No longer are they worthy of it.”

He continued, “We’ve dug deep into Mt. Lifan to train ourselves in obscurity; to prepare ourselves should we need to fight back. Misinformation to shroud us has spread through- out the single-city kingdom with little difficulty. Is that not a display of their in- competence? Do you all really think that someone, who can’t protect their own city-state from us, their citizens, is truly in any position to decide our reverse exodus back to the humans?” The Grovyle’s arms crossed. “Anyone?”

The amphitheater was brimming with silence. Not a single word nor cough; only several shakes of the head in the audience.

“Exactly,” he affirmed. “The focus on peace and pacifism is a crutch that will weaken us, not just to the humans — who in all likelihood could easily return and vanquish our ‘humble’ stronghold — but also to the other Pokémon city-states, who deliver far more fi- nancial support to their defensive needs, offensive as well. Should we not prepare for a time of crisis? Preparation for crises is the beating heart of the people in the deserts of Yutori. We must do the same.”

“With the help of everyone, we have created an assemblage of siege weapons to help us attack Arvilios Castle. Tonight, we will show them the error of inadequate and abysmal decrees, for the sake of the people’s protection. Tonight, we will demonstrate what true leadership can do! Tonight, we will usurp the throne and protect our people!”

Jarus immediately raised one of his paws straight up into the air and clenched his digits. “Down with Arvilios! Down with Arvilios!” he chanted, arm pumping up and down in tandem.

The audience joined him. If it was a biped, their arm was raised. If it was a quadruped, they sat on their haunches and raised a single foot as high as it could go. If it could fly yet was too small, it sat on the highest Pokémon and raised a wing. If it had no arms, wings or legs, it raised its head up proudly toward the dirt ceiling.

“Down with Arvilios! Down with Arvilios! Down with Arvilios!”