Pokemon : The Master of Dragon-Types

The top floor of the Dragon Spiral Tower was nothing like Jacob had imagined.

The vast rooftop was almost entirely empty, save for a circular altar standing alone at its very center. Dust coated every inch of its ancient, weathered surface, and moss crept along its edges — the signs of a place long forgotten by the world. The outer ring of the altar was engraved with intricate lightning patterns, each one carved deep into the stone with striking precision, while at its very center rose a magnificent dragon head sculpture, imposing even in its stillness.

Desolate. Lonely.

Those were the only words Jacob could find for it. The stone floor was cracked and worn, thick with dust, and cobwebs clung to the corners where the walls met the ceiling. A faint smell of decay hung in the air, stale and cold, as though the room had not breathed in centuries.

It was clear that no one had set foot up here in a very long time. Perhaps not since the day Zekrom's physical body had been destroyed — sealed away into the Dark Stone — had any living person stood on this floor.

And yet, despite the ruin and neglect, life persisted. Slender green vines grew stubbornly from cracks in the hard stone walls, pushing up through gaps in the floor and casting a faint, fluorescent green glow across the chamber. They wound their way through every corner, weaving themselves through the old masonry as if the tower itself had welcomed them. It was as though the Dragon Spiral Tower and these green plants had reached some quiet, mutual understanding.

Jacob found himself genuinely curious. What kind of plant could take root in solid stone, deep inside a place like this?

He didn't have long to wonder.

The moment he stepped fully onto the top floor, the Dark Stone in his arms began to react. It gave off a dazzling light, sudden and sharp, and electric arcs crackled across its surface like living things. Slowly, almost gently, it began to float upward, drifting out of his grasp.

Thump. Thump.

Jacob could have sworn he heard a heartbeat — a deep, resonant pulse like a war drum — coming from the stone itself. It echoed through his chest, his ribs, as if it were beating inside him rather than outside.

The Dark Stone floated steadily forward, drawn toward the altar as though pulled by an invisible current. Jacob stood perfectly still, not daring to breathe, his eyes locked on it. His own heart was hammering.

He watched as the Dark Stone drifted to the center of the Dragon Altar and settled — with surprising delicacy — into the hollow socket carved at the eye of the dragon head sculpture. The fit was exact, inevitable.

The effect was immediate.

Like the surge of Dragon Ascent, the colossal stone dragon head seemed to awaken. A tremendous roar shook the chamber. The clear sky beyond the tower's open heights vanished in an instant, swallowed by rolling dark clouds that spread outward in every direction, blanketing an area miles wide in a ceiling of thunderheads.

"BOOM!"

Thunder cracked like a cannon, and golden lightning blazed across the sky. The Dragon Spiral Tower shuddered from its foundation to its summit, a deep tremor that everyone still within the secret realm would have felt — a subtle, bone-deep shake that carried unmistakable meaning.

Bolt after bolt of lightning rained down on the tower's peak. Struck again and again by those golden strikes, the Dragon Altar erupted with electric energy so intense it was almost blinding. A column of golden light punched straight up into the sky — and the Dark Stone was gone, swallowed into the churning thunderclouds above.

For just a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then it descended.

The pressure arrived first — a crushing, invisible weight that pressed down on Jacob's shoulders and chest, forcing him to steady his footing. Within the churning clouds, lightning surged and writhed. A shape was forming. Enormous. Unmistakable.

It dropped from the storm.

A massive body, dark gray and powerful, wreathed in arcs of golden electricity. Its form was unlike any ordinary Pokémon — it stood upright like a great bipedal dragon, broad and immovable, yet its silhouette carried something almost prehistoric, like a creature from before the age of trainers. A crest of gray, lightning-shaped ridges crowned its head, gold currents dancing across them like a living crown. Vast black wings spread from its back like unfurled banners. Its arms were thick and heavy with power. And its tail — Jacob's eyes went to it last — was shaped like a massive turbine, built to spin and generate the currents that coursed through its body.

Its deep red eyes found Jacob.

Zekrom.

The legendary Pokémon said to use the force of lightning to shake the world, coming to the aid of those who strive to build an ideal future. Ancient myths warned that should humanity ever lose its way and abandon its sense of justice, Zekrom would return — and its wrath would reduce kingdoms to ruin.

Jacob held its gaze. This was the first time he had ever seen a First-Class God in this world. Not a picture, not a record. The real thing, here, now, looking back at him.

Even freshly resurrected and not yet at full strength — still recovering toward what the system classified as Legendary Class — Zekrom's aptitude column read a single word: Deity-level.

Jacob had never seen that before. Not on any Pokémon he had encountered. And standing before it now, he understood why the word existed. The pressure radiating from Zekrom wasn't something that needed to be measured or analyzed. It moved through him like a low current — a tingling in his skin, a tremor in his legs, something deeper than fear. His whole body vibrated faintly just from being in its presence.

The Dragon Spiral Tower seemed to feel it too. The old stone walls lit with crackling electricity, as if the tower itself were welcoming its king home after an age of silence.

Zekrom regarded him, unhurried, its gaze carrying a weight that no human voice could match. Lightning played across its body in quiet, steady arcs, like the idle crackle of a storm that had chosen not to break — yet.

Jacob's mind was already doing the math. He didn't need the system to tell him. There was no world in which he could capture this Pokémon. The gap between them wasn't a matter of strategy or preparation. A true deity didn't submit to a Poké Ball because a trainer was clever enough. That simply wasn't how it worked.

He smiled, a little bitterly. The Pokémon games and anime had made it all look so simple — find the legendary, win its trust, add it to your team. But this world didn't operate on those rules. A First-Class God like Zekrom belonged to a different order of existence entirely. The thought of capturing it was something only someone very naive — or very new to this world — would seriously entertain.

He had been both, he supposed.

He was still standing there, caught between resignation and awe, when Zekrom spoke. Its voice rolled out low and vast, like distant thunder rolling across an open plain.

"Human. You have earned your reward."

A pulse of golden light shot from Zekrom toward Jacob before he could respond. He felt it wash over him, and with it came the system notification:

[Zekrom's Outrage] — When used on any Pokémon, greatly increases affinity with Dragon-type energy and Electric-type energy, and enhances resistance to both. When used on a Dragon-type Pokémon, additionally provides a significant increase to aptitude. When used on an Electric-type Pokémon, additionally provides a significant increase to aptitude, guarantees the ability to learn Fusion Bolt, and grants a low chance of learning Bolt Strike.

Jacob opened his mouth to speak — but the words never came.

A force closed around him, sudden and overwhelming, like gravity itself had decided to point sideways. The world lurched. The tower vanished. And then there was nothing.

When he came back to himself, he was lying in a wide, barren stretch of open land, with no tower and no storm in sight.

Jacob sat up slowly and pressed a hand to his throbbing head. He had been teleported more times in a single day than he cared to count, and his body was making sure he knew it. His head pounded. His stomach rolled. Every muscle ached as though he'd been wrung out and left to dry, and he couldn't find the energy to stand right away.

The chime of a system notification pulled him back.

Hidden quest [Ideal Dragon] — Completed. Distributing rewards… Rewards distributed.

Jacob blinked, then opened his system inventory.

Something was sitting inside it that hadn't been there before — a single item, gleaming gold.

[Gold Bottle Cap] — Can be used on any Pokémon. Maximizes all of its base stats simultaneously and raises its aptitude to Master-level.

He stared at it.

A Gold Bottle Cap.

He actually got a Gold Bottle Cap.

Jacob sat with that for a moment, turning it over in his mind. A standard Bottle Cap could push one stat to its limit — the equivalent of perfect IVs in a single area. A Gold Bottle Cap did all six at once. By any measure, it was one of the rarest and most valuable items a trainer could possess, a shortcut to perfection that most trainers would never see in a lifetime.

One Gold Bottle Cap — and it would raise any Pokémon he chose to Master-level aptitude.

So the question was: which one?

He ran through his current team in his head. Of all his Pokémon, Rotom had the lowest aptitude — but Rotom filled a support and utility role rather than a combat one. Spending something this rare on a Pokémon that wasn't built for battle felt like a waste.

So who, then?