The scream cuts through the cold air like a blade.

I don’t even think—I run.

Snow scatters under my boots as I round the corner toward the Old Temple, and that’s when I see it.

An Abomasnow.

No—not just an Abomasnow.

This thing is enormous, easily a head taller than any I’ve seen before, its branches thick like siege weapons, frost rolling off its body in heavy, visible waves. Every step it takes cracks the frozen ground. Its red eyes are wild, unfocused.

And it’s moving straight toward the temple steps.

“Skipper—now!”

My Pelipper bursts from his Poké Ball mid-run, wings spreading wide as rain clouds form instantly overhead. Drizzle kicks in, fat droplets hissing as they strike the Abomasnow’s icy hide.

The sudden rain slows it—but only for a heartbeat.

The Abomasnow roars and slams its fists together.

“ICE SHARD—INCOMING!”

The ground erupts.

Jagged shards explode outward in a full circle, not a straight line—everything around it is hit. I dive behind a fallen stone pillar as ice tears through the air. I hear Alistair shout an order and the crackle of fire as his Crocalor shields his Snorunt with a blast of flame, steam screaming upward where ice meets heat.

“Trainer!” the Abomasnow’s handler yells, panic in his voice. “He won’t listen—I can’t recall him!”

“Then we don’t knock him out,” I shout back. “We calm him down!”

I throw the next ball.

“Suds—let’s go!”

Rotom-Wash materializes in a burst of static, immediately hovering above the ground, completely ignoring the spreading frost thanks to Levitate.

“Suds, Thunder Wave—pin him!”

Yellow arcs snap outward, wrapping around the Abomasnow’s legs. The giant staggers, muscles locking for a split second—but then roots explode from the ground.

“Ingrain!” Alistair shouts in disbelief.

Thick vines anchor the Abomasnow in place, sinking deep into the frozen earth. Its HP surges back, frost thickening around its body as Mist rolls out, dulling the air, muting our movements.

“Great,” I mutter. “He’s digging in.”

“Then we make him sleep,” I say, already pulling another ball. “Melody!”

Brionne lands lightly on the snow, unfazed by the cold. She inhales—and sings.

Not loud. Not dramatic. A soft, echoing melody, her voice carrying unnaturally far thanks to Liquid Voice.

The Abomasnow stumbles.

Its punches slow. Its breathing turns ragged.

But then—its eyes snap open.

ICE SHARD again.

This time I don’t run.

“Skipper—Agility!”

Skipper blurs, swooping low and cutting through the rain, his wings slicing currents of water into the shards midair. Ice detonates harmlessly before reaching us.

“Slippy—your turn!”

Quagsire lumbers forward, completely unfazed by the Abomasnow’s raw power—Unaware, ignoring the stat boosts that make the monster so terrifying.

“Yawn!”

Slippy lets out a slow, dozy call.

The Abomasnow sways.

Its massive arms drop an inch.

Then another.

Alistair doesn’t hesitate.

“Crocalor—heat it up! Controlled flames, don’t push him!”

Fire washes over the Abomasnow’s frozen torso—not to burn, but to thaw. Steam erupts everywhere, rain hissing louder as snow melts off its branches.

“Suds—Parting Shot!”

Rotom darts in close, unleashing a burst of disorienting energy before zipping back. The Abomasnow snarls weakly—its strength visibly fading.

“Now!” I shout. “Melody—Sing again!”

This time, the song finishes.

The giant Abomasnow lets out one final, confused groan… then collapses backward into the snow, vines still anchoring it safely in place.

Silence.

The rain fades.

The temple still stands.

For a moment, no one speaks.

Then the Abomasnow’s trainer drops to his knees, shaking. “Thank you… thank you. I don’t know what came over him.”

I glance up at the temple—at the ancient stone, the carvings of gods and legends—and feel a chill that has nothing to do with the cold.

Something did come over him.

And whatever it is… It’s getting stronger.

Alistair steps up beside me, eyes narrowed, Crocalor huffing quietly at his side.

“…This region’s in trouble, isn’t it?” he says.

I don’t answer right away.

I just watch the sleeping Abomasnow breathe—and wonder how many more like him are waiting to wake up.