Three Days Later – Dawn
The Butterfree territory had returned to its usual rhythm. The younger Butterfree buzzed with excitement, their faces alight with youthful determination. For them, fulfilling their life's purpose—finding a mate—was paramount.
This time, they had to secure a partner before danger struck again.
None knew when the Spearow would return, but that wasn't their concern.
"Are you ready?"
The Elder Butterfree soared above the swarm, its gaze briefly flickering toward Bell.
"We're ready!"
The Butterfree responded with fervor, as though no obstacle could deter them.
"Begin!"
A pulse of Psychic energy rippled outward, and the swarm ascended once more, carried higher by the seasonal winds.
Bell lingered at the rear, content to play his role without interfering.
No more EXP farming.
No more disrupting the gathering.
The Elder's final words echoed in his mind:
"If you refuse to breed, then stay out of the competition. I don't know why you're so obsessed with battling, but this gathering is different. You understand."
What could Bell say? You can't keep milking the same cow. Push too hard, and the consequences would be dire.
The Gathering – Round Two
The Butterfree spread across the sky, divided into upper, middle, and lower tiers. Only a handful reached the highest altitudes.
Bell, however, had chosen a different vantage point—the very top, over a thousand meters up.
A height no ordinary Butterfree could reach.
His reasons were simple:
Avoid temptation. A few lovestruck females still gazed up at him like he was some kind of winged prince.
Maintain distance. No distractions, no misunderstandings.
Below, the females eventually gave up, turning their attention to more attainable mates.
Life went on.
They couldn't waste time pining for the unreachable.
Soon, suitors swarmed the high-tier females—the most sought-after in the clan.
Competition was fierce.
Unlike Bell, no Butterfree wanted to stay single.
The Storm Returns
SCREECH!
A familiar cry split the air.
Dark specks surged toward the gathering—Spearow, eyes gleaming with hunger and bloodlust.
Plump, juicy bugs… a feast!
Their wings beat faster, driven by greed.
Battle was inevitable.
Bell's eyes glowed pink, his expression hardening.
Down below, the Elder and its warriors mobilized instantly, shooting skyward.
The gathering was over.
Now, it was war.
The Elder took point, flanked by high-level Butterfree—the vanguard, protecting their leader.
In the Pokémon world, leaders clashed with leaders.
Meanwhile, Bell rallied the younger Butterfree.
Thanks to his prior leadership, they assembled faster than before.
Though, oddly…
The females crowded around Bell, shoving the males to the front.
Bell suppressed a twitch of his antennae.
Not the time for this…
Ignoring the jealous glares from the males, he focused on the approaching swarm.
"Descend—NOW!"
His first order was simple: Regroup with the Elder.
Butterfree were Flying-types, but Spearow were faster, nimbler in the air.
Alone, the young Butterfree stood no chance.
The swarm obeyed instantly, diving toward the Elder's forces.
They were scared.
They wanted protection.
Only a few had the courage to face danger head-on.
The Trap
The Spearow closed in, their speed overwhelming.
Bell's eyes locked onto the Elder's.
A silent message passed between them—Psychic communication.
"Elder, prepare to strike. When we scatter, hit them HARD."
"Understood."
The Elder's forces halted mid-air, bracing for combat.
The younger Butterfree panicked.
"Why did they stop?!"
"Are they abandoning us?!"
Those at the back—the slowest fliers—were terrified.
But Bell felt no pity.
If you're slow, that's on you.
The Spearow were seconds away.
Then—
"SCATTER!"
The Butterfree split apart like a bursting star.
And the Elder's warriors unleashed hell.
Air Slash. Psybeam. Gust.
A devastating barrage crashed into the Spearow frontlines.
The trap was sprung.