The hotel room felt smaller when Micah returned, the walls pressing in with the weight of the morning's events. Donny remained asleep in his arms, the Rhyhorn's breathing deep and steady, blissfully unaware of the genetic lottery he'd won or the implications it carried.

  Micah laid his partner carefully on the rug between the beds, arranging a spare blanket into a makeshift nest. Donny shifted slightly, one leg twitching in sleep, but didn't wake. The bruising the nurse had mentioned wasn't visible through the rocky hide, but Micah could see the slight inflammation around the horn-nub where repeated impacts had stressed the developing bone structure.

  He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands. They were shaking. Had been shaking since the battle ended, since the adrenaline had started to drain away and left only the cold aftermath of fear and anger.

  Someone had attacked his Pokémon. Deliberately. Unprovoked. A one-day-old Rhyhorn that could barely walk straight.

  And he'd been powerless to stop it.

  No, that wasn't quite right. He'd fought back. Donny had fought back. They'd won, even. But the victory felt hollow, tainted by the circumstances that had forced it. This wasn't how it was supposed to work. Training was supposed to be gradual, controlled, safe. Not thrown into combat before you'd mastered basic commands, before your Pokémon understood what fighting even meant.

  His PokeNav buzzed. Message from Maxie: Status update?

  Micah stared at the screen, trying to figure out how to compress the morning's chaos into a coherent response. Eventually he settled on: Donny was attacked. Forced into battle. We're okay. At hotel.

  The response came almost immediately: Stay there. I'm coming.

  Micah set the device aside and looked at Donny again. Counter. An egg move. Something rare and valuable that his Rhyhorn had inherited from parents whose full capabilities remained unknown. The nurse had seemed excited about it, like it was some kind of prize.

  But all Micah could think about was that red energy, the fury in Donny's eyes, the way his partner had charged with a violence that seemed fundamentally wrong for something so young.

  He pulled up his PokeNav again, accessing the internet browser. Search: Counter move mechanics.

  The results were extensive. Counter was classified as a Fighting-type physical move with a unique activation requirement,it could only be used in direct response to a physical attack, and only if the user had taken damage from that attack. When successfully executed, Counter returned double the damage received, often turning the opponent's strength into their own downfall.

  It was a reactive technique, one that required split-second timing and the willingness to take a hit before delivering one. Trainers who specialized in Counter strategies often built entire teams around the concept, using tanks and defensive Pokémon that could absorb tremendous punishment before retaliating with devastating force.

  The move had another characteristic: it was exhausting. The physiological stress of channeling damage back through one's own body, of converting pain into power, took a toll that went beyond simple stamina. Pokémon that relied too heavily on Counter often developed chronic injuries, stress fractures in bones, muscle tears that never quite healed properly.

  Micah's stomach clenched. His one-day-old Rhyhorn had used Counter out of pure instinct, channeling forces its body was nowhere near ready to handle. The nurse had said Donny was fine, that Rock-types were resilient, but what about next time? What about when Donny was bigger, stronger, channeling even more damage through a technique it didn't fully understand?

  He needed to learn more. Needed to understand not just the mechanics but the risks, the proper training methodology, the warning signs that a Pokémon was pushing itself too hard.

  Search: Training Counter safely newborn Pokemon.

  The results were less helpful this time. Most guides assumed the Pokémon learning Counter was already evolved, already experienced with battle. The few discussions of egg move training emphasized gradual introduction, controlled environments, extensive preparation before attempting actual execution.

  Nothing about what to do when your newborn Pokémon had already used Counter in a real battle.

  Micah was still reading when someone knocked on the door,firm, controlled, unmistakably Maxie's pattern.

  He opened it to find his mentor looking unusually disheveled. Maxie's coat was slightly askew, his glasses sat crooked on his nose, and his hair showed signs of having been repeatedly run through with frustrated hands. The researcher stepped inside immediately, Claydol gliding in behind him.

  "Explain," Maxie said without preamble. "Everything. Start to finish."

  Micah did. The morning training, the confrontation in the park, the unprovoked attack, the forced battle, and finally Donny's unexpected use of Counter. Maxie listened without interruption, his expression growing progressively darker.

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  "The trainer's name?" Maxie's voice was cold, clinical.

  "I don't know. Blonde kid, maybe eleven or twelve. Designer gear. Said his dad was an ace trainer."

  "That narrows it down distressingly little in Mauville." Maxie adjusted his glasses with sharp precision. "But it's enough. The Pokémon Center will have filed a report, which means city authorities are already investigating. Attacking a newborn Pokémon carries severe penalties,minimum one-year suspension of trainer privileges, potential criminal charges depending on injury severity."

  "The nurse said Donny's fine."

  "Donny is physically fine. There's a difference." Maxie moved to crouch beside the sleeping Rhyhorn, his expression softening slightly. "How is he acting? Any signs of anxiety, aggression, reluctance to engage?"

  Micah thought about the walk back to the hotel. Donny had been clingy, even more than usual, pressing against his legs constantly and making distressed sounds whenever Micah moved too far ahead. "Anxious. Really clingy. But that might just be normal for him."

  "Monitor it. Negative battle experiences can create lasting behavioral issues, particularly in young Pokémon." Maxie straightened, returning his attention to Micah. "Now. Counter. The nurse confirmed it?"

  "She said it was an egg move. That one of Donny's parents must have known it."

  "Your father's Rhyhorn?"

  "Doesn't know Counter. At least, Dad never mentioned it."

  Maxie was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Then it came from the other parent. The nepo baby's Rhyhorn, as your father called it." He pulled out his notebook, flipping to a fresh page. "Did your father mention anything about the other trainer? Where they were from, what their specialty was?"

  "Just that they were rich and wanted to breed their Rhyhorn with Dad's." Micah tried to remember the conversation. It had been months ago, casual mention of some arrangement. "Dad seemed pleased about it. Said the payment was good and we needed the money."

  "Understandable. Breeding fees can be substantial, particularly for well-trained Pokémon." Maxie made notes. "Counter is not a standard Rhyhorn move, which means the parent either learned it through TM,expensive but possible,or inherited it as an egg move itself, suggesting a lineage of Fighting-type breeding."

  "Is that important?"

  "Potentially. It tells us something about Donny's genetic background. Rhyhorn that carry Fighting-type egg moves often come from competitive breeding lines, specifically those focused on mixed offensive capabilities rather than pure physical power." Maxie paused. "In practical terms, it means Donny may have other inherited moves we haven't discovered yet. Possibly more Fighting-type techniques, possibly coverage moves from other types."

  Micah looked at his sleeping partner with new eyes. He'd thought of Donny as just a Rhyhorn, a Rock/Ground-type with straightforward capabilities. But if there were hidden moves, inherited techniques that might emerge through training...

  "How do we find out what else he can do?"

  "Systematic testing once Donny is older and more developed. For now, focus on basics." Maxie closed his notebook. "Counter is powerful but dangerous for exactly the reasons you're probably already worried about. It requires taking damage to function, which means every use puts stress on Donny's body. Overuse can cause chronic injuries, particularly in young Pokémon whose bones and muscles are still developing."

  "So we shouldn't use it?"

  "I didn't say that. I said be careful." Maxie's tone was firm but not unkind. "Counter is a legitimate technique with significant tactical value. But it's also a last resort, not a primary strategy. Train Donny to use other moves first,Horn Attack, Rock Throw once he's strong enough, eventually Earthquake as he matures. Counter should be something he knows how to execute deliberately, not something he relies on out of desperation."

  That made sense. Micah had seen too many battles decided by raw power rather than strategy, by Pokémon throwing themselves repeatedly at opponents until one side collapsed. That wasn't how he wanted to train Donny.

  "What about the psychological aspects?" Micah asked quietly. "Counter requires willingness to take hits. To accept pain as part of the strategy. How do I train that without... without breaking him?"

  Maxie was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice carried a weight that suggested personal experience.

  "You don't train it at all. Not directly. What you train is trust." He gestured toward Donny. "Counter works because the Pokémon trusts its trainer to have a plan, to not ask for unnecessary sacrifice. If Donny believes you're putting him in danger carelessly, he won't use Counter effectively,he'll hesitate, doubt, possibly refuse the command entirely."

  "So I need to prove I'm worth trusting."

  "Exactly. Which means never using Counter unless absolutely necessary. Never putting Donny in battles he's not ready for. Never sacrificing his wellbeing for a victory." Maxie's eyes were intense behind his glasses. "This morning's battle was forced on you. That wasn't your choice. But every battle from now on is your choice. Choose wisely."

  The weight of that responsibility settled over Micah like a physical thing. Every battle, every decision, every command would either build or erode Donny's trust. And without that trust, Counter became useless,worse than useless, potentially dangerous.

  "What if I make mistakes?"

  "You will make mistakes. That's inevitable." Maxie's expression softened slightly. "The question is whether you learn from them. Whether you recognize when you've pushed too hard and adjust accordingly. Donny will forgive mistakes if you're honest about them, if you show you're trying to improve. What he won't forgive is negligence or malice."

  Donny stirred in his sleep, one leg kicking out reflexively. Both humans watched as the Rhyhorn settled back into deeper rest, apparently dreaming of something that required vigorous running.

  "I want to do right by him," Micah said quietly. "I just... I don't always know what 'right' looks like."

  "None of us do. We figure it out as we go." Maxie moved toward the door. "I need to return to my obligations, but I'll be done by evening. Until then, rest. Both of you. This morning was traumatic, and recovery requires more than just physical healing."

  He paused at the threshold, looking back.

  "Micah? What you did today,protecting Donny, refusing to back down, getting him to safety immediately afterward,that was good instinct. Trust that instinct. It'll serve you better than any technique I could teach."

  Then he was gone, Claydol gliding out behind him, leaving Micah alone with his thoughts and his sleeping partner.