Why it belongs. Aron is stretched out along a set of railroad tracks at dusk, and its one visible eye is just a flat, sleepy line. The sky behind it fades from purple to deep red over a quiet sea, with a few early stars and a distant tower on the horizon. The gravel and rails look like an odd bed for anyone else, but a steel-plated Pokémon seems perfectly comfortable on them. It’s a quiet, slightly absurd little scene, and Aron doesn’t appear worried about the next train.