Incarnated Whisp
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Valiant - Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2025-08-13 23:44:25 +0000 UTCThe deep red of the emergency lights mixed with the white and pink of the Iron Valiant's glow. The metal slab that had crushed this room’s door remained precariously still, and the only audible noise was the quiet humming from the Iron Valiant’s chest and Nick's exhales nearby.
However, every so often, a faint noise came from outside.
...Scrtch.
Scrtch!
Claws tested the metal that sealed off this room, but the slab didn’t budge. The nest of Sableye scratched, and scratched, and scratched, but they were otherwise unable to tear a way through.
For several minutes, both the Iron Valiant and Nick chose to just stand there, waiting to see if the situation would change. The Iron Valiant never let go of its fully assembled polearm, and it took a while for Nick's chest to stop heaving up and down so much alongside every breath.
When he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper.
Something dripped to the floor at his side.
“Do you see that cable?” Nick asked. The Iron Valiant tracked Nick’s gaze to a line that connected the emergency button to the red lights above. “I think if you cut it—”
The polearm's blade sliced straight through the cable and a full inch into the wall. It hadn't hesitated, but the Iron Valiant froze just the same as Nick when they saw how far the blade had sunk.
Thankfully, this attack did not sink far enough in to pierce back into the main room, and the only thing that was visibly affected was the cable itself. A few sparks crackled out, but that was it. The red glow around them vanished, and they returned to a state where the only light came from the Iron Valiant.
“Okay.” Nick’s shoulders dropped as he relaxed. “There’s a light switch here...”
And, after a single click, a proper set of lights turned on. This time around, the illumination possessed no special color.
Finally having the chance to look around, the Iron Valiant scanned the room. Other than the crushed remains of the door, this area was untouched and otherwise free of rubble. It also contained far less dust than the previous room, as not enough had been created to settle. Whatever had initially damaged the observation post must have also seen this room be accidentally blocked. The room looked as though it hadn’t seen any humans in a few years rather than at least a decade.
A set of three bunk beds sat against a side wall, and across from them, a section of flat white stone served as a counter. A few dead machines sat on that counter’s surface, and cabinets were built into the wall above and below them.
“Bunk beds, a half-kitchen, that emergency button...” Nick mumbled. “So, this room was probably the living quarters? I don’t see a door to a bathroom, but I guess there’s probably one of those orange buckets hidden somewhere for that. And I guess this does get me my wish. I'll probably be able to find the stuff I need to leave the crater. ...If we ever leave this room.”
Nick still wore a smile, but it was far more strained. He kept his lips pressed together, and the curve of his mouth was thin. As he stepped away, that expression faded behind his blond hair, and the Iron Valiant watched him approach the counter.
In silence, Nick proceeded to search through the cabinets and inspect the dead machines. A sink managed to sputter out a flow of water, at least. The cabinets themselves hid shelves, and almost all of those shelves were empty. However, Nick’s eyes lit up when he found more of those food-filled, metal tubes, and, upon checking a cabinet under the counter, his expression grew even more satisfied when he pulled out a white box with a cross on its cover.
Next to him, more red dripped to the floor.
The Iron Valiant watched as Nick winced when he used both hands to open the box, and the human didn’t hesitate to clean and then apply a clear liquid to a wound on his hand. The Iron Valiant remembered that Nick had smashed through a pane of glass to hit the emergency button, but were humans really that fragile to become damaged from just a weak hit like that?
“You know, I actually know how to do this thanks to my dad,” Nick mused as he grabbed a roll of cloth and started to wrap it around where his hand had been hurt. “He would take me camping every so often, usually just as an overnight thing. I never really liked the woods, but that was probably more due to the creepy crawlies than the forest itself. This one time, he took me fishing, and we got on this rickety old boat that didn't even look like it should be able to float. But—”
Nick let out a laugh, and he stared at nothing at all while continuing to wrap his hand.
“But it did float,” he said. “It boldly stayed atop the water as my dad rowed us out into the middle of this massive lake. I can still remember it clearly—it was the most beautiful blue I’d ever seen in my life. And the quiet! Man. You could never get that kind of silence in a city.”
Nick breathed out, but then he seemed to realize that he had used way too much of the bandage so far. Blinking quickly as he recovered, he inspected his hand and tore the fabric to finish it before the covering became too thick.
“Anyway, long story short, I got a fishhook stuck in my hand, and that really sucked,” Nick said as he placed the remaining medical supplies back into the box. “My dad helped me get it out, and then he made sure I always knew a bit of first aid from there.”
As Nick turned to walk back to the Iron Valiant, the Iron Valiant saw that Nick’s expression had changed. He had given himself time to recover from what had happened, and his smile had returned. However, his gaze was more serious than before.
“First off, I'm sorry. It's my fault that we came here, and it's my fault that we're stuck in this room,” Nick said. “But this is an opportunity. We’re safe right now. There are plenty of supplies I’ll be able to take with me, and we now have time to prepare."
The scratches continued, but the noise wasn’t changing. The Sableye continued to claw at the door without getting close. However, it was unreasonable for them to still be digging if they weren’t achieving anything. They had to be either purposefully making that noise just to taunt them, or the Sableye were making progress, just at an extremely slow pace.
“So,” Nick said to the Iron Valiant. “Escape. Any thoughts?”
Unfortunately, Iron Valiant had nothing. Usually, the solution to its problems was to fight, but that didn’t apply here. Its entire life had been defined by fighting before now—between its wanderings, all it ever experienced was one battle after the last. In the rare times it had been defeated, it had never been defeated in any way that mattered. So, this situation was unique to it. Before now, it had always been smart enough to avoid getting in a fight with such a large number of Pokémon at once.
“Alright, then,” Nick said when the Iron Valiant didn’t respond. “How about this: what moves do you know? I know that doesn’t help us immediately, but we should probably have an exit plan for when we get out of this room.”
The Iron Valiant did not speak Nick’s language, but it could at least move. It made a purposeful glance to the floor, and Nick seemed to understand the message, taking a step back to give the Iron Valiant room to demonstrate as it readied its stance.
Dismissing all sounds around it, the Iron Valiant focused solely on the feeling of its polearm in its hands. This was its weapon, but its weapon was a part of it. For its entire existence, it had wielded these blades, and before it was on its own, it had perfected their use in countless spars against other members of its kind.
At this point, the techniques it knew were instinctual.
Sensors flashing on, the Iron Valiant struck, jabbing with the edge of the blade. The wind snapped alongside this strike, and the second its arm extended, it was already pulling back to follow up with a new, sudden jab.
Every time it struck, it followed up that jab with another, going through with a rapid flurry of blows. Every successive hit increased in power, and fury flowed and built between strikes.
“...Huh. Did you know the inside of your polearm is glowing a sort of yellow-green?”
The Iron Valiant stopped. It hadn’t even noticed, and the color vanished the second the move ceased. The purpose of this attack was to strike quickly and annoyingly, kind of like an insect’s bite, but the change in weapon color was never meant to be part of the attack.
“Based on that color and the build-up, my guess is that was Fury Cutter. That’s the only move that makes sense.”
The Iron Valiant brought back its weapon and lowered its head in acknowledgement. It couldn’t say whether or not Nick was right—names were not its area of expertise—but that description was not an inaccurate way it would describe this technique.
Next, the second move it demonstrated was more of a trick than a direct attack. Swinging its weapon, it showed off a false slash followed by a sudden change of direction for a brutal stab to the side.
This technique was designed to bait out an opponent’s defense, or, it was designed to create a brand new opening. It was a simple feint, enhanced by the Iron Valiant’s strength, which was why it wasn’t surprised when Nick called this technique exactly that.
“Feint,” the human said. “An attack that bypasses moves like Protect and Detect. No special glow this time around, though. Do you have anything more?”
The Iron Valiant did.
With practiced ease, it focused, and a sharpened, blue edge formed at the edge of its blade.
This move was the one that had seen it drop all other attacks to practice, and it had truthfully only learned its two other moves just to support this one. The versatility of the enhancement and the ferocity of its swipes meant there was little reason to develop anything else. Within the Iron Valiant, there was a desire, a need to have this be the best Psychic-type attack there ever was—but that was flawed, as it was coming to learn.
An Iron Valiant was not a Psychic type.
It was only using a Psychic-type move.
Slowly, the Iron Valiant let that edge drop. It did not react when Nick named the technique “Psycho Cut.” This attack had worked for it so many times, but it had failed the Iron Valiant twice, now.
First, against the Roaring Moon. Second, against the Sableye.
Feeling that frustration, the Iron Valiant shifted its stance. It had one more thing to demonstrate—a new move, one that was rough and completely unpracticed. It remembered what it had felt in those moments, and it brought its weapon over its head.
And then, it struck, lashing out in a strong, singular blow. It forsook all defense in favor of landing a strong, powerful attack.
“Hm. And for that move, the inside of your blade turned an orangish-red. And with how you struck.. This is your version of Close Combat, isn’t it?”
The Iron Valiant didn’t know. It was only an attack.
Having demonstrated all of its techniques, the Iron Valiant stood up. It broke the pole of its weapon, minimizing it, and it allowed its blades to click back into place where they attached to its arms.
“Okay. So you know those four moves: Fury Cutter, Feint, Psycho Cut, and Close Combat. Those are what you use to fight?”
The Iron Valiant bowed its head. That was all it had.
It was strong. It knew it was strong. But its strength came from the skill with which it wielded its weapon. It had obtained the power it possessed from constant practice. It lacked the versatility required to obtain true strength.
“Okay. ...Okay,” Nick mumbled, visibly deep in thought. “I want to know: did you recognize that each of your moves uses a different type? Bug, Normal, Psychic, and Fighting. Each of your moves changed color to represent a different type of energy.”
Blankly, the Iron Valiant brought up its gaze to stare at him, questioning, and Nick grinned. This time around, his smile was a mischievous thing. Apparently, he had recognized somewhere that the Iron Valiant could improve.
“So, listen closely. I’m going to live up to my side of our deal. If you want to be a better fighter, you need to know that there are eighteen Pokémon types, and each one interacts with the others with a variety of effectiveness,” Nick said.
“Right now, you don’t need to know all of them, but Sableye?” he said, continuing. “They’re Ghost and Dark-type Pokémon, a combination that gives them a lot of immunities. Nothing that’s Fighting, Psychic, or Normal will have any effect.”
Though listening intently, the Iron Valiant could already see the problem—and it had experienced it firsthand when none of its strikes had worked. Its prized move would never damage a Dark type, and even its newest technique would only see its polearm ineffectively pass right through.
The only technique the Iron Valiant knew that could potentially damage these Pokémon was its most basic—Fury Cutter, according to Nick—but even that had issues. Namely, Fury Cutter was never strong before it could be built up, and its single-target nature meant using it would open up the Iron Valiant to retaliatory strikes from the other Sableye.
Right now, if the Iron Valiant somehow left this room, it would not be able to fight off the horde. It could defeat a handful of Sableye, but the sheer numbers would only see its loss in the end.
Something burned in the Iron Valiant’s chest at that thought, but Nick just maintained his infuriatingly calm smile.
“Super effective moves are key to winning battles,” he said to it. “And it’s all because super effective moves deal double damage. Even a weak move can become strong if you pick the right type for an attack. So we just need to pick the right move here to give you a better chance against the Sableye.”
Going quiet, Nick took a step closer to the door, and he placed a hand on it, wincing slightly when his injured hand touched the metal. Faintly, the scratching noises continued, but he seemed to fail to feel any vibrations coming through.
“Out there, past this crater, there are probably thousands and thousands of Pokémon trainers constantly creating new strategies to win,” Nick said. “I have no idea just how they’re training their Pokémon how to fight, but they’re definitely doing that while paying attention to super effective moves.”
“It doesn’t matter how clever someone is. One strong strike can end a fight—and the entire sport is based around that. All status moves and other things are just tricks to create openings. No matter what, if you want to win, you have to deal enough damage to faint your foe.”
He took a step back, laughing slightly, and he locked eyes with the Iron Valiant.
“You’re a Fairy Type. You have the advantage. Sableye are only weak to Fairy-type moves. I don’t know how to help you pick up a move like that, but even one would help you win the battle.”
Slowly, the Iron Valiant bowed its head. If it just had to learn a single attack to win, it could do that.
“...Focus on practicing,” Nick said, returning to thought. “Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll focus on finding a way out and getting us through.”
He stepped away from the Iron Valiant, giving it room, and moved back to the counter to continue searching through the shelves, but with a greater focus than before.
The Iron Valiant watched him go, then turned to face an imaginary opponent for it to begin its practice.
However, it had a problem.
It might have been told it was a Fairy type, but it didn’t know how to use the “Fairy type” as part of its moves, or even just what being a “Fairy type” could mean.
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Author Note:
You might have noticed that I've changed how I'm writing out Pokémon types. Mainly, the world "type" is no longer capitalized. I like to try to stick to canon for how most things are written, but I accidentally wrote it incorrectly when first writing the Type Specialist. For all this time, I've been including the incorrect form for consistency's sake and to increase the focus on Pokémon types, a per the previous two fictions' focus.
I'm still a little inconsistent with that, but I'm hoping to improve over time.
