Michael, pointed dramatically at the battlefield. "Let's do this, Bagon! You've got this, my tiny tank!"

  Bagon waddled forward. Though barely two feet tall, he stomped like he was three times that size. His thick skull gleamed under the sunlight, and his stubby arms lifted—uselessly—as if daring the world to say something.

  Across from him, Rodnick cracked his knuckles like a kid who watched one too many vilin origin stories. "Alright, Charlie, time to roast a pseudo-dragon!"

  Charmander bounced in pce, tail bzing brighter than usual. He growled pyfully, twirling like a gymnast prepping for gold. He even blew a tiny puff of smoke out his nose, just for style.

  "BATTLE START!" Marcus bellowed from behind an overturned cafeteria table. "May Arceus have mercy on their pride!"

  "Bagon, Dragon Breath!" Michael opened with confidence.

  Bagon inhaled deeply—his cheeks ballooning as his stubby body tensed. A bst of swirling, bluish-purple energy shot from his jaws, crackling toward Charmander like a disco ser. The Dragon Breath barreled across the field.

  "Smoke Screen!" Rodnick countered.

  Charmander spun on one heel, releasing a thick, dark smog that swallowed the battlefield. The Dragon Breath lit up the smoke in dazzling purples, but when it cleared—Charmander was gone.

  "Fire Fang, from the left!" Rodnick barked.

  Charlie burst from the smoke, jaws abze with fiery orange energy, and cmped down on Bagon's shoulder. He sunk the jaws into Bagon's side—Bagon let out a surprised yelp and stumbled sideways.

  "Ouch! First blood goes to Charlie, and he bites hard!" Marcus called, adjusting his sungsses like he was at a celebrity roast.

  Michael didn't flinch. "Bagon, Counter with Headbutt!"

  Without hesitation, Bagon twisted and unched forward like a cannonball. His thick head smmed into Charmander's snout with a meaty crack, sending the orange lizard tumbling backward into the dirt. Charlie rolled once, twice—nding on his belly with a puff of smoke.

  "AND THAT'S A HEADBUTT RIGHT TO THE JAW!" Marcus hollered, nearly falling off his pstic stand. "Ladies and gentlemen, we may be eleven, but that was violent!"

  Rodnick clenched his jaw. "Charlie, Growl to throw him off, then Scratch!"

  Charmander shook himself off, then let out a high-pitched, vaguely threatening snarl. It sounded more like a meow, but hey, he tried. Then he lunged forward, cws raking across Bagon's blue armor with a screech of friction.

  Bagon grunted. The growl seemed more like a distraction than a de-buff. The Growl softened his offensive instinct for a heartbeat—but not enough to stop the next call.

  "Time to show cws of our own. Now, Dragon Cw!"

  A glow of emerald light enveloped Bagon's arms—not elegant, but raw and jagged. He charged, arms extended awkwardly, swiping upward. The energy sshed across Charmander's chest, sending sparks flying.

  Charmander was flung backward again, skidding until his tail dug a groove in the dirt.

  "CHARMANDER'S FEELING THAT ONE IN HIS BONES! I FELT IT IN MY SOUL!" Marcus gasped.

  Marcus let out a whistle. "Ooof! That Dragon Cw just rewrote Charlie's week. You can feel the ancient dragon ancestors appuding."

  Rodnick hesitated—his cockiness beginning to waver. "Smokescreen! Then circle behind and Fire Fang!"

  Charmander vanished into the smog again.

  Michael crossed his arms, eyes sharp. "Leer, then Bite."

  Bagon's eyes glowed with an eerie red light as he focused on the swirling smoke. His growl cut through the fog like a warning bell.

  Inside the smoke, Charmander slowed. He flinched. That Leer—sinister and cold—dug into his confidence like a chill breeze.

  Then—snap.

  Bagon lunged with an impressive burst of speed and chomped down—not on Charlie's body, but right on the tail.

  CHOMP.

  Charmander screamed—a high-pitched, insulted squeal of outrage.

  Rodnick bnched. "Tail-biting? Really?"

  "Desperate times," Michael shrugged. "Also, hirious."

  "AND IT'S A FULL TAILBITE, FOLKS!" Marcus roared, ughing now. "I HAVEN'T SEEN A HIT THAT PETTY SINCE my cousin traded her shiny Ponyta for a fake Master Ball! That Dragon Cw was personal!"

  Charmander stumbled back, clearly shaken. His fme flickered—but not weakly. Just enough to show fatigue.

  Charmander y smoldering in the dirt with his tongue out in theatrical defeat. Bagon stood over him, flexing his arms again as if to say "Yeah, these little limbs did that."

  "Charlie, come on, buddy. Fire Fang—one more time. Everything you've got!"

  Charmander let out a tiny war cry and charged. His fangs ignited brighter than before, eyes narrowed with determination. This wasn't about winning now—it was about proving he wasn't going down easy.

  Michael clenched a fist. "Bagon, intercept with Dragon Breath—point bnk!"

  As Charmander lunged, Bagon opened his jaws—and a swirling bst of dragon energy exploded straight into the charging lizard's chest.

  The two attacks collided mid-field. Fire met energy in a burst of light and heat.

  When the smoke cleared, Charmander y on the ground, twitching.

  He groaned. Lifted his head. Then flopped face-first with a pitiful whimper.

  Marcus raised his fake mic like a war horn. "CHARMANDER IS UNABLE TO BATTLE! THE WINNER IS BAGON!"

  Michael whooped, nearly tripping over his own foot. Bagon roared in triumph—well, it sounded more like a growl with a cold, "yeah I won" vibe.

  Rodnick sighed and jogged over to Charlie, gently picking him up. "You did good, partner. Real good. Next time, we'll toast that rockhead."

  Charmander licked his cheek in apology. His fme still burned—tired, but proud.

  Marcus skipped over, holding up his unplugged mic. "Words from the winner?"

  Michael grinned. "Bagon says—respect the rockheads. Or get bonked."

  Rodnick smirked. "Rematch. Tomorrow."

  "Same time?" Michael asked, offering a fist.

  Rodnick bumped it. "Same field."

  Behind them, Bagon and Charmander gave each other a grumpy nod. Mutual dragon respect. Or maybe mutual grudge. Close enough.

  Marcus spun toward the rest of the css. "And there you have it, folks! Victory, valor, and one fire-type lizard with a sore tail!"

  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  I tried my best to portray the battle scenes here.

  I'll be honest—I'm not a hardcore Nintendo game expert, so I'm not super familiar with all the mechanics of Pokémon battles. And let's face it, the anime isn't exactly the best reference—battles there are overly dramatic, weirdly sometimes turn-based, and sometimes downright ridiculous. (Looking at you, Pikachu vs. Arceus. Seriously.)

  So, please let me know how the battle felt to you. Was it too cringy? Too artificial? Or did it work well? I'm still figuring things out, so any honest feedback is appreciated.

  Also, I uploaded a map! It might not be the prettiest, but hey—an attempt was made. I'd love your thoughts and suggestions on that too.

  If you have any good references for better battle writing—games, books, or even fanfics—feel free to drop them!

  Now, real talk :What's your favorite Pokémon?More importantly… should Micheal catch it? ??

  Got a cool idea? Toss in your fav Pokémon with a backstory, quirks, weird habits—heck, even give it a dramatic slow-mo entrance if you're feeling spicy. If it fits the vibe, I'll totally try to weave it into the story!

  Enjoying the ride?Hit that Add to Library button so you don't miss the next chapter!

  Got theories, feedback, or just wanna geek out about Dragon-types and dratini eggs? Drop a comment—I read 'em all.

  And stly...POWERSTONES.Feed 'em to this story like they're Rare Candies and help it evolve into its final form!( ?? ω ?? )?