The legendary sub-zero shredder had his feet planted at the top of the Glaseado mountain, looking down below at his snowy challenger. He fixed his visor over his eyes and made sure all of his hair was tucked up into his beanie as he let out a long, slow breath. The wind was picking up speed, but according to the forecast, it should be nothing more than some light snowfall. His eyes scanned down the mountain, tracing his path that he would take.
He had become well known in Paldea as their freestyle snowboarding champion, and he held that spot with immense pride. That spot was his moneymaker, his title, and most importantly, it was his passion. He fought for the spot, earned it, lived it. Sure, he had his gym on the side, but that was just a backup plan. He didn't actively enjoy being a gym leader, but it was a decent amount of money in his pocket for his power.
He shot his eyes back up at the sky as he watched the clouds rolling in. It was his last practice run before his next competition. He was confident in his technique and his talent, he just wanted to be sure and have another practice day under his belt. He readied himself, fixing his feet to the bindings of his board before finally pushing himself down the slope. The sub-zero shredder found himself cutting through the winds and snow, riding along the steep slope at tremendous speeds, balancing himself with his knees and his arms, centering himself so he remained steady. He weaved through rocks and trees, avoiding them as far as he possibly could. He jumped, landing an off-axis spin while throwing his front shoulder backwards, and ending it smoothly. He was feeling good about this. He descended the mountain with no qualms, allowing the flow to take him. When he finished his first run, feeling a warmth seep through him as he decided to take the trek back up the mountain to reattempt a few jumps and spins.
Grusha stood on top of the mountain once more, ready to face his challenger again. He pushed himself down with confidence, allowing himself to be a little riskier this time around. A few cork spins later and something sunk in him like a stone. He was only a quarter of the way down the mountain when it felt like something in the air shifted. He couldn't stop immediately, proceeding his descent as the winds began to pick up some more. The air chilled him to his core, despite his protective thermal gear. The clouds rolling up above were coming in thicker and the light snowfall had begun raining down on him, forming a thick layer on top of his clothes. He swooped around the mountain, and up above he could see the snow cracking at the top of the mountain and suddenly, Grusha felt his heart sink to his stomach as he could hear a soft sloughing in the snow.
Powerful, icy winds came barreling down and Grusha could see the snow slipping as a cloud of powdery snow began to blanket the tip of the mountain, and he could hear the tons of hard snow beginning to run down the slope. Fear flooded his instincts, and Grusha was gliding down the mountain as fast as he possibly could to find somewhere he could hold on to. His heart was racing in his chest, pain searing through his ribcage as his heart throbbed the hardest it ever had in his life. The snow was coming down fast. He turned his head, and the powdery layer was only a few metres away from his heels. Suddenly, pain seared through his hip, and the ground below him gave in, sending him plummeting downwards. Snow collapsed over him, and the roar of the avalanche deafened him as it tumbled over him. The athlete found himself encased in snow, trying to dig out a space around himself so he could breathe. The claustrophobic space was beginning to cause him to panic as he rocked himself back and forth in a desperate attempt to clear a space for himself.
After what felt like half an hour, Grusha had cleared out a small space for him to breathe in. After the adrenaline had mostly cleared from his system, he could finally feel the ungodly pain in his leg. He looked down and what he saw shook him. There was a spot where blood was collecting on his thigh, the pain he felt was excruciating and almost unbearable. His hip felt out of place and he couldn't move his leg at all. He leaned his head back, cringing at the pain. He dug into one of the deep pockets of his pants, trying to reach his phone, but any touch to his leg brought hot flashes of unimaginable pain. He screamed, rubbing his vocal cords raw as he ripped the phone from his skintight pants. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and fogging up his visor. He ripped his visor off and tossed it to the side, not caring where it landed. He took off his beanie and stretched it around his thigh, tying it off tight. His cries were deafening as he tried to tend to the wound, pain coursing through his veins.
With trembling hands, he turned on his phone. He wasn't sure if he could even get reception, but he was hoping and praying to whoever would listen, that he could. He dialed a few numbers, hoping to reach someone, but he couldn't get anyone to pick up. He texted a large number of people, hoping that someone–anyone–could save him from his icy prison. He let out a shaken sigh as he leaned his head back against the packed snow. The space he had made for himself was just barely large enough for him to have enough room to sit cross-legged on the ground. It was cramped, but at least he wasn't drowning. The edges of his vision were beginning to turn dark, exhaustion taking its toll on his damaged body. He blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake, but it was no use as he fell into a deep state of unconsciousness.
When Grusha woke up, he wasn't encased in his snowy sarcophagus anymore, but rather in a hospital bed. He looked over to one side and he saw the curtains draped over the window. The faint beeping of a heart monitor filled the space. He closed his eyes again, his body feeling extremely heavy. A sigh escaped his sore throat as he attempted to sit up.
He couldn't feel his legs.
He tried once more but it was like a Snorlax had lied on top of him. But as if someone were watching him struggle, a nurse had stepped into his room. She was holding a tray of things that he couldn't recognise.
"I'm surprised you're awake." She said.
"Montenevera, you're lucky to be alive." She answered, setting down her tray of things to help him.
"How long was I out for?" The nurse helped raise the back of his bed so that he was sitting up. He then watched her adjust a bar that had a dangling handle.
"When the search and rescue team found you, they presumed you were under there for about fifteen hours."
"By the time they flew you here, it was too late." She said somberly, looking away from him as she guided him to sit up.
She hesitated at first. "You lost your right leg from the knee down, and the left one we were mostly able to salvage. The frostbite was really advanced. We were able to save most of your hands luckily. You lost some of your ears, some parts of your fingers."
Grusha looked under the blankets, and what he saw made his stomach churn. There was a thick cast over his right leg, and he could see some stitches at his hip. On his left side, his foot was amputated. He checked his hands, and he had most of his fingers, aside from a few. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight. He felt sick. Every realization was coming to him. He lost some of his limbs. It was something he would never even have fathomed, but now it was his reality. It sickened him to his core, and suddenly, he was spilling the remnants of his stomach onto the floor. His hands trembled as he held onto the rail of his bed. The tide was rising in his eyes, and he couldn't fight the current as it flowed out of him. The sounds around him were suddenly being drowned out as he took in his new reflection. He stared into nothing, stuck inside of his head as he remained still in time.
During the day, he had a few visitors come to his side. Ms. Ryme gave him a visit, stopping by to bring him and his pokémon some food, and lightly scolding him for making her worry. Larry checked in, gifting him with a book to read in the meantime. Geeta's presence surprised him the most, leaving behind a decorated cane as a gift for when he was well enough to use it. She told him not to worry about his gym duties for now but would check in with him about it later.
Later on that night, Grusha was staring at the clock with red eyes. He felt exhausted as he lay sitting upright in his bed. He let out a sigh and shut his eyes. Suddenly, something stirred in the room. Altaria had released herself from her pokéball. He gave her a tired stare as she trotted over to him. She flew up to his rail and perched herself there. She began to wrap her wings around him, nuzzling her head into his neck which he took in graciously. She began to hum to him softly underneath his chin, trilling quietly.
He let out another shaky sigh as he held onto his pokémon with a weak grip. Stray tears fell down his cheeks, knowing that the person he pictured himself to be was now a memory.
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