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Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Encounters and Wishes

He’d known that the child who fell out of the sky, Akari, was a fearsome opponent, but nothing could have prepared him for how close their battle actually came. Even through his victory, he was cursing himself for not watching her battle with Commander Kamado of the Survey Corps carefully. He had written the Commander off as someone who was “all growl, no bite”, so to speak–pokemon wielders like Volo himself were so rare, he had completely written off the possibility that their battle could have accurately shown just what Akari was truly capable of.  

Akari stared up at him from her spot, unmoving. She held her satchel close to her chest, arms quivering from just how tight her grip was. Every muscle in her arms was tensed up–even if her pokemon were out of commission, she was most definitely not. The corners of his mouth eased into a smirk, and he let himself chuckle just slightly.

“Are you really going to make me take them from you? Like I said before, I will , but I don’t particularly enjoy harming children.” He then cocked his head to the side, thinking for just a second before musing: “Well, I suppose it won’t really matter once I remake the world, anyways… you’ll be gone, bruised up or not.”

. . . But she did not move an inch, still plastered to that spot. The only sign that she was anything more than a statue were the clouds of breath visible against the cold mountain air, intermittent blinking, and the rising and falling of her chest as she breathed. Her eyes showed not anger, or grief, or despair, but a nauseating determination that made his blood start to boil under his skin. She reminded him of his main target who had ignored him since the beginning, not responding to him with words or actions– testing him and his patience. His smirk faded, and his eyebrows furrowed as his hand outstretched towards her from across the Temple of Sinnoh’s battlefield. “Hand them over. Now.”

. . . Still nothing. His teeth gritted together, but he stayed his anger, instead opting to grab a revive from his pocket. Its energy was absorbed into one of his pokeballs, and he called forth his Spiritomb, crossing his arms. “Spiritomb. Her satchel, if you please. If she struggles too much, feel free to toss her from Mount Coronet. Such a sore loser needs to be knocked down a peg or two,”. His Spiritomb’s clouded body hesitated for just a second before it spun around, unleashing a blast of dark energy. It struck Akari square in the chest causing her to gasp, her grip loosening on the satchel. Spiritomb’s eyes glowed a bright blue, taking hold of the satchel and ripping it from her grasp, floating it over to his wielder. Volo took hold of the bag, leering down at Akari, who was trying to catch her breath after getting the wind knocked out of her by a particularly nasty dark pulse. “See? I asked nicely, twice even, and look at what good it did you to not comply. I might have even had a space for you in my new world if you had just cooperated, but instead, you’ll fade away, in pain, completely and utterly alone ,”.

For the first time since she lost, Akari’s voice rang across the ruined temple.

“Volo. I can’t stop you anymore, but… you will regret this.”

Volo chuckled, his chuckle turning into a dry cackle, his cackle turning into a laugh, letting out all his pent up stress and emotional yolk carried throughout his journey. It was hilarious, seeing such a feeble attempt to get him to turn back, after everything he’d gone through to get this far, all the people’s well being he had sacrificed (including, it seemed, his own). He turned away from her, taking a page out of her book and choosing to ignore her provocation. He took out the spooky plate to join its 17 siblings.

A cold shiver ran down his spine as he held all 18 plates in front of him–now that they had joined together, they circled around him through some otherworldly power he could not describe. With a flash of light, the 18 stone plates were replaced with an oddly shaped flute–it reminded him of a pokemon he’d seen on the shores of Galar during trips abroad with the Ginkgo guild, although the name eluded him. As he grabbed it, he could feel power rushing from it as it called deep within his brain for it to be played. He raised the mouthpiece to his lips slowly, beginning to play a melody that he had never learned. Its tune felt familiar to his ears, but just where he had heard it before was buried deep in his memory, perhaps where he shouldn’t try to remember. The last note echoed around him, and the song’s dulcet tones were replaced by the return of icy cold wind blustering around his ears. He stood there, silently, waiting for his creator to show any sign of hearing him at all.

. . .

And just when his expectant mood was about to turn to rage, the world began to spin around him, and everything turned dark.

When he snapped back to reality he found himself on his hands and knees, the cold stone of the Temple of Sinnoh replaced with a material he couldn’t quite get a grasp of. It had a similar feel to water, but his hands did not get wet. It looked like glass, but didn’t make any noise as he took a few steps to stand. Adorning this platform was a circular pattern he had seen at Celestic ruins scattered around the region, glowing a bit underneath his feet. He looked up, jumping a bit when he saw nothing but stars, no matter what direction he turned in. The only thing tying him to reality was a bright white circle hovering in the distance–but even that could not be realistically identified as the moon he knew in Hisui.

Volo grasped his head with one hand, fighting against a dull ache that pressed against his temple. He felt on the verge of passing out again, but pushed through. He’d been working for so long to make this meeting happen, and he would not let anything keep him from finishing what he’d started.

As he gathered his thoughts, a bright light manifested in front of him, causing him to wince and shield his eyes. He reached for a pokeball on his belt, but his confidence turned to momentary panic when he found himself grasping at the fabric on his tunic–his pokeballs and satchel were completely gone. He gritted his teeth, but stood up and let his eyes take in the full radiance of the presence in front of him. “. . . Are you Almighty Arceus?”

. . . 

But just like Akari before it, his only response was the echo of his own voice. He repeated his question, but nothing changed. Yet again, again, again , silence was used as a weapon to claw at his psyche. He had made himself as loud as possible in personality and volume to make sure he wouldn’t be ignored, joined the Ginkgo Guild to make sure he was needed, but every time there was something important to him, he seemingly turned invisible. He was done. Every thread of his carefully stitched composure came unraveled, revealing the deep wealth of rage that had for years festered and accumulated. 

“Why…. Why?! Why did you choose HER and not ME? I’ve spent my whole life chasing you, and how is my loyalty rewarded? With a… fake audience, a… a-an ethereal plane of mind-fuckery you conjured up just to taunt me?” He threw his arms open wide, gesturing to the floating island around him. “I have done EVERYTHING to make you acknowledge me. EVERYTHING! I… I uncovered all your follower’s ruins, heard the stories of all the legendary pokemon under your thumb, poured my HEART and SOUL into figuring out WHY you abandoned our people, and THIS–” He spins around slowly, coming to a stop once he’s facing the light again, spitting: “--is what I deserve, huh?? I defeated EVERY trial you sent to me. I know enough about you to know summoning you entitles me to commanding you, but… ha… haha… you’re scared. You took away my pokemon… my WEAPONS… because you’re too scared I’ll BEAT your ass and subjugate you ENTIRELY! You can’t FATHOM a world where the mortal man YOU ignored eventually overcomes Every. Single. Trial, and sets out to destroy your precious, fucked up, backwords, hellhole world you designed! So, satisfy my curiosity, will you? Show me what happens when you get too scared to grant my wish. What are you going to do, send a wave of 15-year-olds from the future to stomp me? Huh? Huh?? I’m WAITING!"

The last word of his tirade echoed several times across the large expanse. He breathed heavily, his fit of rage still clinging to his mind–but there was nothing more to say. He had an entire list of things he had wanted to say to his creator about 30 minutes prior, but that plan was completely forgotten and replaced with a spill of mental sludge. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, the grip on his obsession growing tighter and tighter, until a response of great power finally returned to him:

What doest thou wish?

The booming voice poured directly into his mind, bypassing his ears, stunning him entirely. A shiver ran down his spine, cooling his rage and replacing it with a primal fear he had no control over. The logical part of his brain was screaming at him to turn tail and run, that his little temper tantrum had angered the deity he had spent so long trying to please, and that he was seconds away from being smited. Despite that, he managed to push through, a mix of shock, fear, and awe replacing his previous expression. 

“Almighty A-Arceus. . . you. . . I mean I… I mean… ah, just a second.” He broke free of his paralyzed state, slapping his cheeks twice with both hands, then looking back up at the light. “I.. I have three wishes. Three wishes you MUST grant, as… as I am entitled to b-by summoning you.” The shake in his voice was completely involuntary, but he stood his ground: “I want my world to be erased and rewritten. . . and I want it to have none of the pain and fear I’ve experienced in this life. . . and I want to live fully in that new world! Those are my wishes, now grant them as is my right!”

One would not normally encourage taunting a being so powerful as Arceus–a being so powerful it could create many different worlds while governing the powers behind time, space, emotion, willpower, knowledge, dreams, nightmares, and more. Despite Volo’s childish and demanding tone, though, the almighty being kept a level expression and tone of voice. 

Thou demands wishes three– your world to be overwritten, the human pains you have felt to this point rendered irrelevant, and a full life, is this correct?

“Yes, of course. . . I– YES, yes, those are my wishes!”

Those are wishes I can grant, but they shalst be your only three. Is this satisfactory?

“Yes, it is satisfactory. That’s all I want… that’s all I ever wanted!”

I must warn thou. . . thine wishes will not ever be reversed. Whatever the outcome, thou must live with it. Is this understood?

“If you’re trying to get me to change my mind, you can just forget it. I know EXACTLY what I want. I’ve been working for this for too long… it’s about time to see my vision realized!”

And thou hast nothing thou wishes to say goodbye to before thine world is erased? No pokemon, no human?

This gave Volo pause. He had no human attachments besides Cogita, and he was too angry at her to say goodbye (he said good riddance in the back of his mind), leaving only his partners to consider. All the experiences he had shared with his pokemon flashed in his mind, as one would expect to see before they died. He would never admit it out loud, but he had fun with them; as much as he considered them weapons, he also appreciated their company. They kept him safe, they laughed together, they cried together, they journeyed together. His togekiss, in particular, had been with him from the very beginning. Even though he acted as if he didn’t care about them, in his heart of hearts, he lo–

“No. There’s nothing worth saying goodbye to. I cut all ties to this world the moment I set on this path.”

. . . Understood. It will be done. Farewell, Celestic boy. I hope thou enjoyeth thine new world, lest you regret it for the rest of your existence.

Volo flinched a bit at Arceus’s comment, but steeled himself nonetheless. His world was about to be created. He had won, after all this time.

“I won’t regret it.”

We shall see.

The light grew stronger and stronger in an instant, enveloping Volo in its white glow. He felt his world changing, every sense becoming different than it had been before. It was the strangest feeling in the world, but there was no pain. He whispered a soft goodbye, meant for his loyal partners that had taken him this far, before sleep washed over him like a tidal wave on Ginkgo landing. His mind went blank as he was transported far, far away from where he came from…

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: A Brand New World

His consciousness snapped back into operation, and his first instinct was to take a giant gulp of air, gasping and coughing. The feeling, he would later note, was similar to coming up for air after a long time underwater. After a few deep breaths, his heartbeat and breath returned to a steady rhythm and he blinked a bit, processing all that had just happened. He had won, hadn’t he? All of his sleepless nights pouring over texts and legends, training his Pokemon, and still finding time to do the bare minimum at his job had finally paid off. After taking another deep breath, he took stock of his physical condition. He felt alright– the dull headache from Arceus’s telepathy was long gone, and the cold chill from Mount Coronet’s insatiable winds was replaced with the warm glow of the midday sun. There was a certain amount of tiredness, sure, but it was still much improved from before he woke.

Huh, space-time travel sure takes it out of you… interesting. Although, would this really be considered space-time travel? It certainly isn’t like the space-time rifts, considering I have my memory intact… If I’m in a new world entirely, what would that be called? I suppose it’s never happened before, so a term was never coined… huh. 

His thoughts pinged around inside his head, clear and unblocked by his previous rage. He took it upon himself to look around, which is when certain… peculiarities emerged.

It was clear he had been reincarnated, reformed… dropped(?) in some sort of forest, with tall wild grasses springing forth from the ground. But has grass always been this tall? He couldn’t tell for sure, lying down, but it wasn’t just the grass–everything in the forest seemed bigger and more daunting than he had remembered. The river running next to him felt more like a rapids at his size, the stumps of fallen trees felt like hills, and the flowers speckled on the landscape were half as big as his face. He tried to get up, but the strength in his arms was clearly not the same. He furrowed his brow a bit, struggling to his feet.

Considering he hadn’t gotten much more height from standing up, something was definitely wrong , but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the root cause was. Standing as tall as he could, he clocked himself as seeing only about a foot off the ground, about six times as short as he was normally (give or take a bit). If this was some sort of sick joke or divine prank, he wasn’t exactly enjoying it. Really? Making him pitifully short? Seemed rather juvenile to him. He was either short, or a child, or a Poke–  oh… oh no.

The thought hit him like a Rhyperior’s rock wrecker. That couldn’t be it, could it? No way his wish would be bastardized like that. He looked down, only for his suspicions to be confirmed and his blood to run cold. Gone were his old features, replaced by a Pokemon’s : sleek, white fur, stubby arms and legs, and–as he noticed when he turned around to get any more clues–a gigantic, bushy tail that stretched longer than his body proper.

He wanted to scream. Of course this would happen. Almighty Arceus had technically granted Volo’s wish–his world as Volo the merchant was certainly rewritten, not a doubt in the world about that one. He wouldn’t have to deal with any human heartache, given the fact that he no longer was one, and he would live fully, whatever life cycle the creature had, at the mercy of the world he was dropped in.

Fan-Fucking-Tastic. His mind automatically recalled similarities to the time Cogita had taught him about Aipom’s Paw, a tale concerning a wildly mischievous Aipom (even for their species). It had promised to help a human by granting him one wish. The human, of course, was ecstatic, and wished to become richer than any other man in his village. The Aipom then responded by harassing every member of the small settlement into packing up and moving to a new area, leaving the dumbfounded man as the richest man in the village of one. Cogita had warned him that an Aipom would never grant a wish in the way you desired it to be granted, and it seems the same could be said for Almighty Arceus.

The god had been far too cooperative given the circumstances, and he was an idiot for thinking the deity was being anything close to benevolent. Why would a god that had forsaken him before do anything for him, especially considering he had just assaulted the almighty’s chosen emissary? Arceus, was he stupid.

Moving over to the river, he took a peek at his reflection in the remarkably clear water. He seemed to be inhabiting the body of… what was that Pokemon’s name again? Pari…. Pochi… Pachirisu? He had seen the little electric squirrels running around the Crimson Mirelands (and very rarely the Alabaster Icelands as well) but he hadn’t really interacted with them, considering they were the skittish type. From his understanding, they weren’t the strongest of creatures, didn’t evolve, and were generally eclipsed by their Pokemon cousin, Pikachu. He had gotten to read Akari’s Pokedex once or twice when they adventured together, but he couldn’t remember anything remarkable about this specific pokemon that had been jotted down. Ugh… whatever. The only thing he saw in his reflection that differed from other Pachirisu was a long strand of fur that covered his left eye, resembling the hairstyle he had from before this whole ordeal. 

Less than pleased with this whole ordeal, he finished inspecting his new body before letting out a heavy sigh and turning around. His moment of frustrated calm quickly turned into surprise, however, as he was greeted by the sight of three Pokemon he had never seen before. Their small bodies were encased in a hard, magenta shell, and their beady yellow eyes bore holes into his fur. They were standing in a v-shaped formation, their feelers twitching with a mix of defiance and rage.

“Oi! Minccino-looking guy ova’ there! Youse is on our turf!” The middle Pokemon suddenly barked out, stepping forward. This one was significantly larger than the other two, and bore small scars and scuffs on its exterior armor. Volo stood in shock, partially because he was trying to figure out exactly what this thing was, and partially because–if he was not mistaken–that weird bug just… talked . He took about five seconds of tense silence before looking around and then pointing at himself. 

“Uhh…. me?”

“Yea, you! Who else would we be talkin’ to?”

“Ahha, well, I don’t know… what a ‘Minccino’ is. And it’s strange to be talking to Pokemon, so…”

“Strange? Why would it be strange?”

So, it was true that Pokemon could communicate indiscriminately between species. Volo had always wondered if his Pokemon were chattering to each other when they camped out on a delivery, or if they were just babbling. It seems he had his answer, although it was a little too late to mean anything to him now. Still, he forced himself to snap out of his surprise-induced freeze. He had seen wild Pokemon interact in the past, especially the aggressive ones: if the human world was paras-eat-paras, the Pokemon world had to be that, but tenfold. He put on his manufactured grin, tilting his head to one side.

“Ah, sorry, I’m just not from around here! I’m a little lost, actually… Would you fine creatures be so kind as to tell me where I happen to have found myself?” The two smaller bugs in the back shifted to look at each other, then back to their ringleader. 

“Hey, uh, commander, I don’t think this guy’s local… I’ve never seen his type hangin’ around,” The leftmost bug loudly whispers, doing a terrible job at keeping a low profile.

“Yea, dumbass, I figured that out.” The ringleader glared daggers at Volo, letting out a small huff: “Oi, fake-minccino, you heard me before. This is OUR turf, which means you ain’t allowed to be here.”

Volo’s customer service smile wavered just a second at the pointed remark. When he realized he had woken up as a Pokemon, part of him was happy he wouldn’t have to deal with assholes and complainers all day, but it seems as though those types existed in the Pokemon world as well. Oh joy.

“Ah, well, my apologies! I didn’t realize I had wandered into your territory, although I probably should have seen the signs… I truly didn’t mean to bother you, I’ll be on my way!” He turned to the side to try and escape, but was stopped by the ringleader pokemon darting in front of him and blocking his path. The other two rounded behind him on both sides, trapping Volo in the center of the three.

“Yea, that’s not exactly how this thing works, y’see.” The ringleader Pokemon assumed a more defensive posture, clearly aiming to hold Volo exactly where he was. “You step on OUR turf without OUR permission–you get punished. That’s all there is to it, sweetheart.” His de-escalation attempts had clearly fallen flat, and his heart started to pick up pace. Images of especially territorial Pokemon on the offensive flooded his mind, and the need to leave the situation became even more apparent. 

“Ah… Sorry boys, I really should be on my way! There’s important things to do, uh… wherever we happen to be! You shouldn’t waste your energy on a weak thing like me, really, ahha… I promise, beating me up won’t be much fun!”

“It’s Pinwheel Forest. You’re in Pinwheel Forest. It seems to me, boys, as if we need to teach this newbie a lesson. I don’t know where youse came from: if youse have a trainer waiting for you at home, or if youse is just lost, but here in Pinwheel Forest , we do things like this. Kapiche?” The ringleader was clearly not backing down, taking small steps towards Volo as he spoke. Volo weighed his options: this mystery Pokemon was around his height, but he didn’t know what type it was, so it was hard to determine his chances in a fight. Calling for help clearly wouldn’t help him in his particular situation, considering how well his first interaction with the local Pokemon was, and he was closed off from escaping. Running didn’t seem particularly appealing either, considering he had no idea how big Pinwheel Forest was, or what direction the exit could possibly be in. 

‘Screw escaping, I need to get out of this Arceus-damned situation first’ . Adrenaline coursed through his little body, enabling him to turn tail, leap into a breakneck sprint, and thread the needle between the smaller two Pokemon. He was much faster than he originally bargained for, and he felt the wind whip against his face as he fled the encounter. Despite being in danger, he felt himself getting a bit excited at how fast he could run, and how far off the ground he could spring himself. Tiny limbs be damned, he could move. Before he knew it, he was letting out short laughs of relief, looking back to make sure he was faster than the gang of bugs that had cornered him. This moment of joy was cut painfully short, however, when he– not paying attention to where he was going– ran full-force into something large, something bulky, and something inarguably alive . Tumbling backwards into the grass and losing all momentum, he yelped in surprise.

“Hey, watch where you’re standi–”

As soon as he looked up at what he ran into, his face dropped and his blood ran ice cold. Just his luck, it was another Pokemon, but he felt this encounter wasn’t going to go as well as the last one. This thing was HUGE to him–easily four times his size, and built like the brick walls of the galaxy building. It was clearly the evolved form of the much smaller bugs from earlier; they shared the same colors, pattern, and most importantly the death glare that was directed at him. He felt like it was boring holes through his soul, and he took a few steps back. The creature let out a small huff, blowing hot air towards Volo, and stomped the ground. He felt it vibrate underneath him, displacing dirt and creating a small dust cloud with the sheer force of its weight. ‘ Well, this is… not ideal’.

“You… are you what those three are making such a fuss about?” Her voice was low and serious, like the captain of the survey corps’ was. If she had been turned into a Pokemon, this was definitely what she would be, although he doubted that was actually the case.

“Ah… uh, maybe?” He kept backing up, but the creature advanced on him with each step he took. It moved like a Rapidash, and he hoped to Arceus it wasn’t as fast as one too.

“. . . You’re not from this region. Judging by your thick coat, you’re Sinnohan, correct?” Volo blinked and tilted his head. He was from Hisui, not Sinnoh, but the use of ‘Sinnoh’ as a place was confusing. He knew ‘Sinnoh’ to relate to ‘Almighty Sinnoh’, Arceus’s real title. He had travelled a great distance with the Ginkgo Guild, and he’d never heard of a region called ‘Sinnoh’. Mulling this over in his mind, he furrowed his brow a bit.

“Not that I know of, no… I’ve never even heard of that region. Is that a bad thing?”

“. . . No, not particularly. I’ve been around the block once or twice… it was just a guess. Sinnohan or not, you’d be getting the same spiel.” She lowered her head to his eye level, making direct eye contact. “Let me inform you of the rules here in Pinwheel Forest. This here area belongs to me and my crew. That’s Scolipede, Whirlipede, and Venipede. Now tell me, how did you wander in here without encountering any of our scouts? Our border defenders? Our food gatherers?”

“Ah… haha… I told your commander back there the answer! I must have just missed everyone! I’m really, really super sorry. I didn’t take anything, I promise I will just be on my way!” 

“. . . So you don’t intend to answer truthfully? I see…”

“No, really! I am telling the truth! I just… ended up in this forest by..complete accident?” He smiled, swallowing nervously. Having this colossal beast staring him down two inches from his face was making his fur stand on end. Surely she wouldn’t believe his story if he came fully clean–who would truly take a trespasser seriously if they started blabbering about space-time travel? The Scolipede continued to stare at him for what felt like forever, but it eventually pulled its head up and stood up straight and tall. 

“Sure… an accident. I don’t take kindly to that sort of attitude. You can’t physically get past the lot of us in this colony without tipping someone off. If that’s your position, though… I suppose it simply can’t be helped.” To Volo’s shock, she backed up, turning around as if to just walk away from the situation. He relaxed his muscles a bit and breathed a sigh of relief. She seemed at the very least more reasonable than the three stooges he’d bet earlier. He’d make it out of the woods unscathed, and figure out a way to return to being human.

Of course, if he had known about Scolipede’s real temperament, he would never have let his guard down. He had no idea the extent of their territorial aggression, at least until he felt the sharp point of Scolipede’s back horns colliding with his stomach, drenched in venom. As it turned out, she had only turned around to build momentum for a home-run of a poison tail. To say the 20 lb (~9 kg) tail moving at a speed of around 65 mph (~104 km/h) and hitting a 8 lb (~3.6 kg) squirrel was overkill would be a gross understatement. The impact was enough to launch Volo clear across an entire river, smacking harshly against the sturdy trunk of a pine tree with a solid thunk , leaving an indent in the bark for good measure. 

Honestly, Volo was surprised he even survived the attack. It hurt like hell, and the impact did more than a little damage to him (he had to have broken something somewhere), but he was still conscious with at least some hp left. Despite this, however, he felt sick–like something else was sapping his strength away little by little. The closest thing he could equate it to was a horrible head cold, blurring his vision and giving him a slight fever. ‘ Damn, just my luck, isn’t it… Damn you, Arceus…. Damn you!’ 

He barely had the time to catch his breath before his instincts kicked in again. If he was smart, he would have to get out of there, and fast: he had a feeling those other Pokemon wouldn’t be satisfied with just one hit in–he was branded an enemy by their monarch, and they wouldn’t stop until he was completely demolished. With him being injured, it was only a matter of time before they caught up with him, so if he wanted to go, he needed to go now . 

Fighting back tears, Volo started sprinting as fast as he could away from there. Stressed, hurt, disoriented, and scared as hell, electricity started inadvertently spilling from his cheeks as he picked up speed, sprinting like his life depended on it to who-knows-where.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: All Aboard the Train to Progress and Mystery!

Nacrene City had always been special to Ingo and Emmet. They had first visited after being hired on as subway bosses, as part of a tour to meet all the important trainers in Unova’s extensive battling culture. There they met the city’s Gym Leader, Lenora, who took an interest in the twins immediately. Emmet had discounted her skills the first time they battled, expecting a museum curator to be more reserved. This miscalculation led to an embarrassing loss on his part, his partners getting slammed with heavy hits from return, crunch and retaliate. Despite his foolish confidence going into the battle, Lenora had taken a shine to Emmet’s spirit, and even gifted him a Pokemon fossil as thanks for coming to visit. Ingo, on the other hand, chose to play his battle more cautiously. Unfortunately, Lenora picked up on his change of pace immediately, using the openings he gave her to trounce his Pokemon as well. She gifted him a rather expensive life orb, encouraging him to take more chances and find openings of his own to take advantage of during battle.

Ever since that day, Ingo and Emmet planned visits to Nacrene city every few months. Visiting Lenora was a must, of course, but there were other things they enjoyed about it as well. The town had a peaceful air to it, far removed from the city they worked in, and it provided a nice reprieve from the hustle and bustle of their everyday lives. Their favorite part about the city itself, however, was the set of train tracks running through the city and adjacent routes. They were dilapidated and worn by time and disuse, but the foundations were in place to connect central and southeastern Unova with more than just Skyarrow bridge.

That foundation was the reason they were visiting on that particular day: to make preparations to replace that railway and extend it all the way to Striaton City. It was a pet project they had been itching to oversee for years, and with Pinwheel Forest becoming more and more dangerous by the day due to the high-level pokemon that live there, it made sense to greenlight the project. Pedestrians needed to be able to get from Castelia to Nacrene City without the fear of getting ambushed by Pokemon that left the tall grass in search of more territory.

Ingo and Emmet stood in front of a panel of construction workers, city planners, government leaders, and other important figureheads to deliver the specifics of their plan: the speed of trains that would run through, what materials needed to be hauled in, timelines, and other information were all being presented via a slideshow projected onto a screen behind them. Their presentation seemed to be going well heading into their conclusion, until the lights flickered once… flickered twice… then completely flipped off, the projector going down with them. Ingo flashed a look at Emmet, concerned. They could barely see, and the group of people started mumbling to each other in confusion. Emmet adjusted his hat, using his naturally large voice to speak to the crowd:

“I am Emmet! We have just lost power! There is no need for panic.” Ingo nodded in approval, turning to address the crowd.

“We were just about wrapping up anyhow. Please reach out to us with any questions you may have. There will be a vote coming up shortly to approve funding for this project, and we hope you see our vision for the future of Unova’s public transportation. In the meantime, we must assist in diagnosing the cause of this outage. Our apologies for the inconvenience.” Ingo collected his laptop, returning it to its case as the attendees shuffled out one by one, whispering to each other about the power outage. Emmet, in all honesty, couldn’t blame them for wondering what was going on. Nacrene city had a very reliable backup generator in place so widespread power outages wouldn’t affect its residents. Living next to a route where fickle (and sometimes impulsive) electric-types live almost necessitates some sort of backup plan for keeping the residents out of the dark. Because of this, any actual power outages were investigated heavily.

Ingo walked with Emmet to the door, sighing a bit. “This is inopportune timing, wouldn’t you say, Brother?”

“Yes. Verrrrrry inopportune. We were verrrrrry close to the end of our presentation.”

“At least we got all the important information across. It could have been worse.”

“I am Emmet. It could have been much better.” The pair opened the door to the building they were in, stepping outside. The sun was just beginning to fall in the sky, so the effects of the blackout weren’t dangerous, but they could still instantly tell that the whole city’s power was out. Residents were stepping outside of their homes, looking around to see a possible cause for the loss of power. A few veteran trainers clutched Pokeballs in their hands; there weren’t many strong Unovan electric types that could be the culprit here, but an especially frenzied Zebstrika, Galvantula or Eelektross would no doubt hold enough power to knock out both the power grid and the backup generator. Despite the sense of tension, there was no visible threat in Ingo and Emmet’s peripheral vision. 

The pair marched towards the Nacrene museum, knowing exactly who would direct them in an investigation. Outside the beautifully constructed building, Lenora was standing with her hands on her hips. Flanking her were two Watchog, who were vigilantly guarding the museum while its security system was knocked offline. Concern and annoyance were scrawled over her face, her eyes scanning the building and the generator next to it. Emmet beamed as he approached, saluting when he reached her. “I am Emmet! Good afternoon, Lenora!” 

She looked up and met their eyes, her expression immediately melting into a wide smile. Relief washed over her face and she walked over, wrapping them both in a large hug.

“Well well, if it isn’t the Subway Brothers, you two are a sight for sore eyes! I knew you were in town for your train project, I was wondering when you’d come say hello!” She chuckled a bit, squeezing them before letting them go. “Bet you weren’t expecting such an eventful day, were you?”

Ingo nodded, adjusting his cap a bit. “We certainly weren’t expecting our train to be derailed like this… but we’re here to help get the town back on track. Where do you need us, Lenora?” During emergencies, it wasn’t uncommon to have any strong trainers check in with the local gym leader to see how they could help out. This tradition started about 7 years ago, when the Unova region was first threatened by Team Plasma. Lenora herself was a part of the team of people in charge of taking down the terrorists, but they had the help of some especially strong gym challengers who ended up doing most of the heavy lifting. 

“Well, see, it’s a bit hard to say. We have no earthly clue why this happened. Hawes is taking a peek at the generator now, we’re trying to figure out if it’s an external or internal issue. For now, you ca–” Just then, Lenora was swiftly cut off by the sound of a child sobbing, and all three turned towards the commotion.

Running towards them were two children, a young lass in tears, and a youngster who was trying to be brave (but very obviously terrified himself). Lenora rushed over to her, kneeling down to her height. “Juliet, what’s going on? Are you hurt?” Juliet extended her shaky hand, which was red and irritated. Recognizing the injury, Emmet spoke up immediately. He pulled out a bandage and salve that he had in his jacket, kneeling down to her height to get a better look at it. 

“That is an electricity burn. They are not very fun. Did you get attacked by an electric-type Pokemon? I know there are Blitzle near here.”

Juliet sniffled, letting Emmet take care of her wound and calming down enough to get a coherent sentence out.

“I-I… I think so… But it wasn’t a Blitzle.”

“It wasn’t a Blitzle? Do you know what Pokemon it was?”

“N-No, sorry… I don’t think I’ve ever seen that Pokemon before. It was definitely an electric type, b-but… it wasn’t an Emolga… or Blitzle, or Zebstrika, or… or anything like that.”

“Tynamo? Eelektrik? Eelektross? Magnemite or its evolutions? Jolteon?”

“No, not those…”

“Joltik? Galvantula? The Electabuzz line? Mareep? Flaaffy? Ampharos?”

“N-no… sorry…”

“Stunfisk?”

“I don’t think a Stunfisk coulda moved that fast…”

Emmet tilted his head to the side, a bit puzzled. He had rattled off every electric type that could be encountered normally in Unova, and… nothing. Ingo chimed in, bringing out his Rotom phone.

“What color was it? Did it remind you of any other Pokemon?”

“U-uh…. It was white… white and blue? And…. it kinda looked like a Minccino, I guess…. It just ran past me when I was trying to go for a walk with my brother. I don’t think it was trying to hurt me, but it was shocking everything…” 

Ingo and Emmet exchanged glances at each other, the former typing up notes in his phone. He had a feeling the girl’s injury and the city’s blackout were connected, considering the mysterious nature of both. Lenora sighed, looking towards Emmet.

“Well, that certainly changes the game a bit… I’m willing to bet a hundred thousand Poke-dollars that whatever Pokemon attacked Juliet ALSO had something to do with what’s going on around here. Emmet, could I borrow your Eelektross? I’d like to at least get the Pokemon Center functioning again.” Emmet beamed at this, reaching inside his coat for Eelektross’s Pokeball, setting it gently in Lenora’s open palm. He held pride in his Pokemon’s skills, and had no doubt the big eel could get the job done. “Thank you, dear. Now, since I trust you won’t get yourselves killed confronting… whatever is out there, if you feel comfortable investigating, I’d appreciate it a lot.” Ingo and Emmet flashed each other a look in confirmation, then nodded in unison, saluting together.

“Consider it done,” Ingo announced, turning to address the young lass afterwards. “Do you happen to know where that Pokemon ran off to?” She nodded slightly, rubbing the bandaging on her hand. 

“Uh-huh…. It ran over there,” She declared, pointing to the eastern entrance to the city. Emmet’s eyes widened a bit as his gaze followed her finger. Off to that entrance was Route 3, which was home to both a human and Pokemon daycare. Intentional or not, if this mystery Pokemon was rampaging, there was a high chance the people there would get hurt. If he rushed, he could head off and counteract the threat before anything happened. The attack happened only a minute or two ago, but when every single second counted, it was hard for him to judge how much time he actually had. His hand instinctively grabbed inside his coat for a Pokeball, pressing the button on it and quickly releasing his partner inside. His Archeops stretched its large yellow and blue wings, letting out a cry of determination. It knelt down, turning to look at Emmet. Despite being inside his ball, he seemed to understand Emmet’s intentions perfectly. Emmet hopped onto his partner’s back, Archeops taking a running start before flapping his wings hard and taking off towards the Pokemon Daycare.

Lenora sighed, watching Emmet fly off into the distance. She worried for him, but in this particular moment, she was grateful for his impulsiveness. He wasn’t tacked down by thoughts of due process or the consequences of leaving during an emergency, things that delayed her own response time. Gym leaders had a duty to their city, but her own sense of justice would slap her sideways if she didn’t help defenseless citizens in need, local or not. When Emmet had a priority, he would just go for it, dealing with whatever consequences came later. It was one of the traits she admired the most in him. She had reached the same conclusion as Emmet had, and was supremely grateful that the twins were there to help out. 

“Ingo, your brother is a lifesaver, you know that?” Ingo nodded, grabbing a Pokeball of his own out of his coat. His mouth came just about as close to a smile as it gets, and he shot her a resolute look. 

“Of course. We are the Subway brothers, after all. Any delayed trains need to be set back on track! It’s what we do best!” After boldly speaking his mind, he set off towards Route 3, going after Emmet and the mysterious threat.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: What Lies Between the Trees

Emmet had reached the daycare building in record time, all things considered. His Archeops, Arlo, had been in almost perfect sync with him along the way, even taking an X Speed midflight to get an extra boost. Emmet almost lost his hat twice along the way, so as they landed, he was clutching it close to his head. 

Luckily, it seemed as though he’d made it on time–he was greeted by at least 5 excited preschoolers, all enamored by the speed at which a local celebrity had just zoomed in at, kicking up dust and making quite the entrance. The day-care attendant walked over with a confused expression on her face, prompting Emmet to approach while recalling Arlo back into his Pokeball.

“I am Emmet. It is good that I got here on time. I was verrrry worried. Has there been any trouble here recently?” The day-care attendant tilted her head a bit, Emmet’s nervous disposition starting to rub off on her.

“No, I don’t think so… We were just getting ready to head inside after recess. Nothing of note happened today so far, why do you ask?”

“A wild Pokemon knocked out the power to Nacrene City. It then headed in this direction at a concerning speed. It was my opinion that this establishment and the children it takes care of are in danger. But it looks like I was not too late.” At this note, the attendant started ushering the children inside, hushing the excited whispers of a ‘super strong Pokemon’ being nearby. As she did, she took a Pokeball from her own belt, releasing her Cinccino to help her. 

“So, something really knocked out power, huh? I thought they had a pretty robust defense system around that sort of thing. That’s not great, is it? I appreciate you coming to check on us so quickly… do you need any help? I have at least two other Pokemon that could lend a hand.” Emmet nodded, taking out the rest of his Pokeballs.

“We will need all the help we can get. This is the only road to Striaton City that isn’t cut off by water. A rampaging Pokemon isn’t hard to miss. My brother is heading this way as we speak. With the two of us closing in, we will get to the bottom of this mystery. I am verrrry sure of that.” He sent out the rest of his partners to block off any possible route past him and keep lookout, then stared at the road leading to Nacrene City. Emmet’s role was to protect this place. Despite wanting to join his brother, he and his partners would stand guard and trust that Ingo could take the investigation from here. He adjusted his hat, ready for whatever came next.

Ingo was lucky that there was a trail of witnesses there to greet him as soon as he stepped foot onto Route 3. Angry trainers who had gotten electric shocks, terrified trainers and citizens who had witnessed the Pokemon run past, and opportunistic trainers who wanted this mystery Pokemon for themselves all flocked to him to tell him their stories.

One trainer claimed the Pokemon was like a ‘bolt of white lightning’, and that it had to be a new Legendary Pokemon. Another claimed it was just an Emolga, and yet another said they’d seen it before when traveling to a different region, but couldn’t remember its name. He made sure to thank them properly and offer them healing items for any Pokemon injured by his mystery target, along with dressing the small wounds on several bystanders’ bodies.

After taking any witness statements, he came upon a large patch of dark grass that caught his eye–some blades of grass had been seared by electricity, and several Blitzle were joyfully prancing about with horns full of stored electricity. He observed them zapping each other playfully, releasing sparks that had much more snap than the average low-level Blitzle you could find anywhere in Unova. As soon as his eyes wandered up, he knew he was closing in: conveniently, nestled in between two sturdy trees, was the entrance to a hidden grotto ravaged by electric burns. He had grown up around his brother’s Galvantula–he was very familiar with how electric attacks affected plant life. The way the wood smoulders almost makes it look like a fire-type was responsible. The way the bark twists as it’s pried from the rest of the tree, the dark charred edges, everything pointed to that grotto holding exactly what he was looking for.

Luckily for him, hidden grottos are dead ends. The density of the foliage makes it nearly impossible to escape from, but also difficult to penetrate. Only one way in, and one way out unless you can fly. He slowly pushed through the tall grass towards the grotto’s opening, taking a Pokeball from inside his coat and holding it firmly in one hand while adjusting his cap with the other. Dry, dead twigs snapped under his boots as he stepped inside. Light streamed in through the leafy canopy far above him, illuminating the scorched path to the center of the grotto. Once his eyes adjusted to the light level, he got a good look at the Pokemon hunkered inside.

He had never seen this exact species before, but he found Juliet’s description to be fairly accurate. It was a small rodent-like Pokemon with a huge, puffy tail and light blue ears. This specific one had a tuft of fur swooped in front of one of its eyes, and it looked up towards him as soon as it heard him coming. Ingo immediately noticed the creature’s condition, stiffening up in realization. Its eyes were baggy and tired, squinting and unfocused. Its whole body was shifting from side to side, trying to keep its balance and stand up through its dizziness. These were undoubtedly signs of being poisoned, as he had seen many a time. Compounding it was its physical state, dirty and unkempt after clearly taking some strong hits. 

Ingo immediately formed a conclusion in his head based on what he was looking at. This Pokemon, captured or wild, must not be from the area and wandered too far into Pinwheel Forest. It got into some sort of skirmish with the ultra-territorial Scolipede and Whirlipede that live there, and ended up getting badly poisoned. It likely flipped out and started unleashing electric attacks to defend itself, and happened to crash through Nacrene City on its way to get out of that situation, finding its final station here. 

Deep inside his heart, Ingo was relieved. A part of him was worried that the disbanded Team Plasma or another saboteur had been behind this incident, a catalyst for something much bigger. If it was just an accident, the citizens of Unova likely wouldn’t have to go through the panic and fear that came with the events of the last 5-7 years. But of course, he also felt bad that the leaders of Unova’s government had done nothing to curb the growth of dangerously aggressive Pokemon in the wild along a pedestrian path, letting an unsuspecting passerby get critically injured so close to a pedestrian pathway. It could have been anyone… what would have happened if a child like Juliet had wandered into that forest instead? Ingo was more certain than ever that his railway project needed to happen to help prevent another incident like this from happening again. 

Snapping back on track after getting lost in his thoughts, he grabbed a Pecha berry from inside his coat pocket, taking cautious steps toward the wary creature. The electric type Pokemon let out a low growl the closer Ingo got, sparks erupting from its cheeks in warning. A stray shock found purchase on Ingo’s outstretched hand, jolting through his body and pushing Ingo back a step. The zap was quite potent for a creature of its size, and caught him off guard. Not being able to safely approach the electric-type and feed it the Pecha berry, because of the potency of Scolipede and Whirlipede’s poison, spelled certain doom for it. He also had to acknowledge another huge issue that accompanied the other: if it had a trainer, it would be much more difficult to get it help before it was too late. He found no other solution than to try to capture it, and deal with the worst-case scenario later if it came to pass.

Ingo grabbed for one of his Pokeballs, calling upon Axel, his Excadrill. Axel immediately assumed a defensive posture, holding her claws out to shield Ingo. The electric-type in front of them released a huge bolt of lightning in a moment of panic, the charge slamming into Axel. Luckily for Ingo, Axel’s half-ground typing made her immune to any electric-type attacks. 

“Axel! It seems this passenger is in need of assistance. If this Pokeball does not work, I am counting on you to help get them help safely!” Axel looked back, giving a resolute nod. Ingo nodded back, counting his lucky stars that he had such a trustworthy partner. He reached into his satchel once again, finding an empty Pokeball inside and pulling it out. He didn’t have many of these, so every throw counted. He moved slowly so as to not startle the creature in front of him further, pulling his hand back and then tossing the Pokeball as fast as he could muster. It made a glorious arc in the air, soaring right before cutting back to the left and knocking its target right in the head. It squeaked in surprise before being pulled into the ball, sealing in the air before clattering to the grotto brush below. 

Shake

Shake

Shake

.

.

.

Click!

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: The Pokemon from Nowhere

Emmet’s eyes slowly drifted over to Ingo at the rhythmic tapping his brother was doing on the sleeve of his jacket. His permanently ironed on frown seemed especially downtrodden, and his eyes were partially glazed over, staring into nowhere. He had to wonder what was causing Ingo such great distress–he had been in such a state since they had rendezvoused about an hour ago. 

While Emmet was still stationed at the daycare a while ago, Ingo’s Excadrill had tunneled over, carrying a letter that his trainer had captured the Pokemon causing the blackout in Nacrene city. It said to head to the Pokemon center, where Ingo was sitting down in the same state he is currently.

“Brother, I understand the Pokemon was hurt. Pokemon get hurt in battle all the time. It is nothing new. There is nothing to be worried about. It will recover!” Emmet put a hand on Ingo’s shoulder as he said this, causing the tapping to stop. Ingo sighed, pulled out of his trance, and looked over to his brother next to him.

“It’s not that, Emmet… I have full faith in its ability to recover. I am more worried about how it got here.” Emmet cocked his head to the side, confused.

“What do you mean by that? Pokemon live everywhere, correct?”

“Well, that’s not really it… The one causing all the trouble was a Pachirisu. Despite the variety of Pokemon that have come to call Unova home, Pachirisu have never been among them. It gets far too hot in the summer for them to thrive, according to the information I found in the Pokedex. This creature has gone far off the tracks. If it were a trainer’s Pokemon, I would understand, but… “ Ingo pulled out the small electric type’s Pokeball, turning it over in his hand. The shiny red top glimmered under the fluorescent lights. “I was able to catch it… so that theory goes up in smoke.”

“Could it have come over on a ship? Nimbasa is very close. It is a port town. This is very likely.”

“...I suppose you’re right. But not many ships even come from the region where Pachirisu are most commonly found. And besides… It’s almost impossible that it’s just a wild one.”

“I stand corrected. I agree with that line of thinking. Now that I think of it, it is far too strong to have come from the wild. Normal electric-types of that caliber would hardly cause a dent in the town’s generator. That is your reasoning, Ingo. Correct?”

“You’ve read my mind, brother… wild Pokemon can get strong around here, but that was unnatural. A Pokemon with a power strong enough to eclipse those of the wild Pokemon calling the surrounding routes home and cause a townwide blackout, yet not strong enough to overcome a Scolipede or Whirlipede. Nothing adds up. It’s making me doubt myself… I can’t even rule out that this was a coordinated attack by a group like Team Plasma. They could have stolen a trainer’s Pokemon from another region, poisoned it, then set it free to attack Nacrene City in some terrorist attempt. I’m afraid the last 7 years have made me a very skeptical man.”

“I disagree with that line of thinking. You have gotten on the wrong train of thought. Team Plasma is very vain. Most other groups like that are. There would have been a claim to it by now. There would also have been a more elaborate plan. There is a special exhibit at the Nacrene Museum from Sinnoh right now. Lots of precious artifacts. I checked in with Lenora before heading here. Nothing has been stolen. No residents reported foul play to her either. I doubt a petty prank would have that much planning and effort behind it.” Ingo sighed, still staring at the Pokeball in his hand. Emmet was correct–the attack on Nacrene didn’t fit Team Plasma’s MO, nor any other attacks by evil teams that he had heard of from other regions. Then… what was happening? It was like the Pokemon came from nowhere, but that wasn’t possible, was it? His other hand moved up to massage his temple, trying to alleviate an oncoming headache. Perhaps he was overthinking this whole thing, and it would be fine later. He sure hoped that was the case. Emmet’s voice brought his attention back upwards. “We could ask the opinion of a real expert in Electric Type Pokemon. We know one of those. We are very close. She could tell us more about this mystery Pokemon. Where it might have come from. Where it might be going. What it is fully capable of. Those sorts of things!”

“Emmet..,” he stopped rubbing his temple, thinking for a second before shooting up to his feet, renewed vigor in his expression. “That is perfect! We can ask Elesa when we get back to Nimbasa! She would be able to tell if this was a trainer’s Pokemon or not! You’re a genius!”
“I am Emmet. You are correct! I am a genius.” Ingo chuckled a bit at this declaration, turning toward the door that leads to the treatment area.

“If there’s a person behind this whole ordeal… they will face justice! And if not, then all the better for it. We will protect the peace of the Unova region as the Subway Brothers! Nothing can tear us from each other.” Emmet nodded in agreement, and the two fell silent, waiting for Nurse Joy to tell them the fate of the one they had brought in.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Awakening

Volo could feel himself getting pulled to consciousness by the stench of medicine and a piercing beeping noise he had never heard before. If he was dead, it surely wasn’t the most peaceful start to the afterlife. Despite the annoying sound, though,  he was warm and comfortable on some sort of fluffy bed. He hoped that when he opened his eyes, it would just all be one bad dream: he had never scaled Mount Coronet, never battled Akari, never… made the mistake to cross a deity with such a short-sighted plan. He would just wake up and go back to work, thinking of some other way to please Almighty Sinnoh while trudging across miles of functionally uncharted wilderness. He tossed to one side, muttering softly to himself.

“If I just stay like this…” 

He tried to let sleep wash over him again, but the soft voice of someone close to his head caused him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“You’re awake… that’s great!” Volo’s eyes shot open and he leapt into the air, bonking his head against some sort of glass right above him. He yelped in pain, landing back on the cushy surface below and rubbing his sore forehead. He glared up, finding the source of the voice to be yet another Pokemon he had no knowledge of. It had a round pink and cream body, and was staring at him through sapphire blue eyes that had a concerned expression etched into them. Atop its head was a small hat with a plus sign in the middle. “Oh… sorry, did I startle you?”

“Yea… how could you tell?” He rolled his eyes, but froze with a bit of horror after a moment. He hadn’t realized that his facade had slipped–he didn’t have enough time to ground himself and truly prepare for interaction with another person… or Pokemon. He let his expression melt a bit into a smile, going into damage control mode. “Ahh… sorry about that, I’m just a little sore! Not your fault in the slightest, dear chum! No need to apologize. Ah, may I ask… where have I ended up?” He observed the pink Pokemon closely, noting her worry slowly rubbing away with each word.

“Ah, you’re in the Pokemon center! Not to worry, you’re out of the woods now. Venipede line poison is tough… but no tougher than a good heal bell! You’re lucky your trainer brought you in when he did, though. You were dangerously close to being in some serious trouble.” Ah, right, of course. After he’d gotten smacked to kingdom come, his newly (and annoyingly) formed Pokemon instincts had forced him to flee faster than he knew he could run, zapping anything that got close. After about 5 minutes, his vision had started decreasing, and he barely had any memory of what happened after he had collapsed in a clearing between trees. That made sense, sure, but one thing still irked him about her account of events.

“Right, I must have been poisoned… but, miss… er…”

“Aria!”

“...Miss Aria, you must be mistaken. I don’t know quite what you mean by ‘trainer’, but if it’s what I correlate it to… and correct me if I’m wrong, but…  I don’t have a wielder.”

“‘Wielder’ is a weird way to put it, but… I’m pretty sure you do, you came in a Pokeball and everything. Your trainer’s just sort of waiting for you to wake up. Is it safe to say you were wild before this?”

“I– well, I suppose so, must have been…” a small chill ran up his spine, and he let out a long sigh. Not only was this undoubtedly not a dream, it just got worse by the second. Anyone crazy enough to wield a pokemon of their own for non-work purposes had some sort of screw loose (he would know), and Pachirisu is not exactly the most work-efficient Pokemon out there. Putting two and two together, he was definitely wary of the so-called ‘trainer’ that captured him. That aside, him (being human) and being captured (as a Pokemon) felt so  wrong in so many different ways. ‘I wonder if I just kissed up and apologized to Almighty Arceus, if he’d forgive me and send me back home already… ugh, probably not, who am I kidding. Pissing off an omnipotent being. . . yea, this isn’t getting fixed that easily.’

“Well, since you’re all better, I’ll go get Nurse Joy, and you can get out of here!” She removed a few odd fabric patches that were adhered to his fur, and the mystery beeping noises stopped. Wearing a kind smile, she merrily jaunted to the door, pausing to look back at him one more time. “Being a trainer’s Pokemon isn’t all that bad, trust me! I can tell you’re a little nervous. Audino like me can usually tell. I actually know your trainer, he comes in sometimes to heal his party after battles with his fans. He’s a good one! He gives me a fresh berry every time I help out. So… you got really lucky!” She grins from eye to eye, giggling a bit. “Not every Pokemon gets a good trainer, so you’d better thank the stars you got put in this situation in the first place!”

‘I’d rather die, thank you.’ “Ah, then… I’d better give a good first impression! Thank you for all your help, Aria.”

“Not a problem! That’s my job! See you next time!” She gave him a wave, then bounded out of the room. Volo sighed, letting the tension fade from his muscles. He turned his attention to his own physical state after taking a second to compose himself. He had a newfound appreciation for Pokemon’s innate ability to recover quickly. If he hadn’t lived through it, there was no way to tell that he had been so close to death’s door just a short amount of time ago. He even felt slightly energized, ready to hop back to it if he needed to. Just as he was about to dash out the open door, his muscles hitched and halted him. What exactly was he ‘hopping back’ into? He had no idea where he was, what he was doing, or how to get back to the world that he knew. For all intents and purposes, he was lost. Lost, and ostensibly a Pokemon, creating a whole new laundry list of issues to deal with. He’d gotten a taste of them before, and he wasn’t too keen on having a second helping.

As much as he hated to admit it, staying with whatever wielder had captured him might be the best play. At least then, if they were anything like he had been on his journey, he would have access to shelter and food for the foreseeable future. Then he could focus his efforts on something a little more narrow than just surviving. His tail twitched at the thought, but this was his resolve. At least for now, that is. As soon as he saw a way out, he would take it, no hesitation. He had no attachment to… wherever he was, and he definitely wasn’t here to make friends. He would survive here, find a way out, escape, and continue his research into creating a newer, better world.

Just as he finished thinking, the door to the room opened, and Volo’s ears perked up. He turned around, ready to greet whatever wielder was before him with the performance of a century. Bright eyes? Check. Bushy tail? Check. When his eyes did fall on the young man, however, his shock manifested in a tiny squeak. His eyes widened, and he couldn’t wipe the look off of his face if he tried. The man extended a hand, an oran berry sitting in his palm.

“Your journey was derailed by some heavy poison. You are out of the woods now. I am sorry if I surprised you!”

Now, this was new. Something… no, someone he recognized. The grey hair, the oversized jacket (that was in a rather clean state as opposed to the one in tatters that he was used to seeing), and the hat perched atop his head all made him think he was seeing a ghost, but the voice sealed the deal. This was the exact same person, although he had no ungodly clue how it was possible. 

“Warden… Ingo?” He tried to call out to him, but Ingo’s lack of expression made it clear that the language barrier between people and Pokemon had blocked his attempt at communication. Even though he could understand the humans around him, they definitely couldn’t understand what he was saying. Every time his Pokemon chattered and trilled at him, they must have been trying to speak to him too, by extension. A few seconds passed, and his expression melted into almost complete neutrality as he took the berry. 

Ingo’s eyes were not as sunken in as he remembered, nor did he look as old. By estimation, he seemed to be around 10-15 years younger than when Volo had met him, but that didn’t seem to line up with the world around him. The building he was in was very strange–no lanterns lining the walls, but still lit in a ghastly glow, the tiles on the floor made of the smoothest stone he’d ever seen in his natural life. Not to mention the machinery–a far reach from the ‘technologically advanced’ construction equipment he’d seen on trips to other regions. Time had seemed to move forward, but then how would that explain Ingo’s presence, or the fact that he’d gotten younger with the passage of time? Could he actually be a very close descendant? No, it was definitely the same person standing in front of him. Was this actually the past? Impossible, he’d just ruled that one out. Alternate timeline? That seemed the most plausible. If Arceus had dropped him in a new world like he’d asked for, just with different Pokemon… he would have to chew on that thought in the back of his mind.

He took a massive bite of the berry, which was sour and smooth at the same time. He could stick close to Ingo, that was no issue. If there was anything he’d learned about the mysterious warden, it was that he was staunchly loyal (a trait that was annoyingly hard to get around once he had imprinted upon Akari). If he got in his good books, he was positive Ingo could prove to be a functional tool in getting what he wanted. Perhaps he should have explored this avenue back in Hisui… then, maybe, the confrontation on Mount Coronet would have gone very differently.

Finishing up the berry, he took a leap and landed square on Ingo’s shoulders. While he was growing used to his new body, going into a Pokeball was still an uncomfortable experience, and one he would rather avoid. He gave Ingo a sweet smile from his perch, letting himself relax into his ‘customer service’ personality. “Alright then! I’ll stick with you, old chum! Good to see you again!”

Ingo’s perpetual frown tilted up a bit at the corners as he jumped up, and he came closer to a smile than he’d ever gotten to witness from the man. He reached up and scratched under Volo’s chin. Volo shivered, forcing his smile harder and letting loose a small electric shock of discontent. He’d done it to his Pokemon, sure, but it still felt… gross. Gross, yes. Gross and uncomfortable for a human on the inside. “Don’t… do that again.”

Ingo’s hand moved away from Volo’s face, and he laughed a bit, causing Volo to jump.

“You look just like my brother when he’s mad! Sorry, dear passenger. I’ve clearly made you uncomfortable. I will not take this course of action in the future, until you are well and ready. I understand.”

A brother, huh? Warden Ingo had never mentioned having one, although the amnesia was probably the core reason behind that. He had mentioned a person that was haunting him, although it was unclear at this moment if that was who he was referring to. Something to keep in mind, for sure. As for the current moment, though, he was a bit relieved that Ingo wasn’t being pushy about showing his Pokemon affection. He remembers petting his Pokemon often, just for stress relief, of course, so he knew the temptation well. In all seriousness, though, the Pokemon from earlier had been correct. He was extremely lucky to get Ingo as his wielder. As Ingo turned around and exited the building, giving gratitude to the pink haired woman at the entrance for her services, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of excitement. 

He wondered how far he could go as a Pokemon, and how far he could steer his wielder in the right direction. Only time could tell, of course.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Unova, the Region of Truth and Ideals

As Ingo stepped outside, Volo was met with a soft, cool breeze that ruffled his fur. The bright light of the midday sun was now far gone, replaced with the dark blanket of night that had swept over while he was unconscious.

He had met Ingo’s rather eccentric brother on the way out, and was surprised by the uncanny resemblance between the two. They were most definitely twins–he’d met a few pairs throughout his travels–but it was strange that only Ingo had shown up in Hisui to meet him. Perhaps his energetic, loud sibling had simply perished in the wilds, all alone. He had no way to tell, and aside from morbid curiosity, he didn’t particularly care, either. He just hoped he could keep a distance from the noise: he’d gotten enough of an earful from people like Meli and Arezu to last a lifetime.

As he shook off the thought, he noticed that the brothers had stepped foot in the same forest he awoke in earlier. A lump formed in his throat, and his ears twitched and pinned upwards as he scanned the perimeter for any signs of life. He could hear the buzzing of bug-types and the soft rustling of grass not too far off. A soft shiver ran down his spine. He would rather not become target practice for two overpowered monster creatures in the same day, if he could help it.

Ingo’s eyes turned to the side, watching the Pachirisu’s vigilance closely. In silent response to his observations, he pulled out a Pokeball and released Axel the Excadrill out into the dirt next to him. To Volo’s surprise, it only took a single nod from his wielder for the creature to take the task of guard duty. He, firstly, had to be a little impressed: commanding one’s charges THAT effectively was no easy feat. Secondarily… that had to be the Pokemon that had assisted in his capture. The poison-induced haze had clouded most of his judgement beyond base instinct, but the size and shape were consistent enough. His beady eyes analyzed the creature’s form–the sharp, metal claws, the red markings on its chest, the focused eyes that were… now staring him down.

“. . . Got a problem?” The low voice grumbled, a glare starting to form on her face. He jumped, still not used to the whole ‘understanding Pokemon speech’ aspect of his new form.

“A-ah! No, sorry…!” He quickly looked away, dodging eye contact. “I just, ah, was wondering if we met before.”

“Yea, a few hours ago. You were tearin’ up the city. Knocked out power to the damn place. Causin’ real trouble for the twins. You’re lucky Ingo’s a nice person. I’d’ve left you for dead.” Volo’s heart started racing, and he swallowed hard.

“I… apologize!” He put on his smile, turning to face Axel again. “It was an accident. I wasn’t entirely myself. It seems I had been put under some sort of affect, and it was my instinct to protect myself, I’m sure you understand!”

“Sure… flighty types like you do that all the time. I’ve seen it more times than I can count. Doesn’t make sense, though. A strong’n like you’d be better off fightin’, not runnin’. Even the Scolipede in that there forest ain’t strong enough to withstand a bolt that could knock out power to a whole city. Sure, you were poisoned… but still. You get caught off guard or somethin’?”

“Something like that. Yes!” A silence settled between the two for an uncomfortable amount of time, Volo’s forced smile twitching a bit. He had no idea what was natural for him, he’d had less than a day to get acclimated to his new skillset, and even then he had no way of knowing how to use moves, move styles, anything. It was quickly coming to his realization, though, that a Pokemon who didn’t know what they were capable of was suspicious. He had to learn his limits pretty quickly in order to play whatever type of character would be least dubious to those around him.

“You sound like you got no idea what the hell’s goin’ on, but whatever. I’ll take your word for it. Just don’t try anything funny,” she said, her tone lightening a bit. She turned his attention back to guard duty and didn’t bother trying to make any more conversation. It was honestly quite the relief to Volo, who sighed a bit internally.

They continued walking with no real event past fences, bridges of strange stone, and dense side foliage until they reached the end of the forest, where they came across another bridge. The only difference was that this one was absolutely massive and seemed to lead directly to a bright light. It almost seemed like what Cogita had described as the ‘stairway to the hall of origin’, which made his tail bristle in excitement, and they began their crossing.

As they reached the apex of the bridge, Volo finally got a look at what had been shining in the distance on the way over. His eyes widened, and his mouth parted a bit in shock. Reflected in his eyes were the bright lights of what he would soon learn was Castelia City, their vitality fighting against the oppressive force that darkness brings. He had seen the Galaxy building lit up at night, sure, but this was on another scale. Buildings that were 3, 4, no… 20 times as big as the biggest building he’d ever seen in his life dotted the horizon like hoards of giant beasts. How could one even build that high? Surely you would fall to your doom, and it hardly seemed worth it. That being said, he had to respect the gall to build to the heavens so fervently. 

“Welcome to Castelia city! I wish we could stay longer, but we’re just passing through. This isn’t our final stop.” Emmet’s words cut through his thoughts, and he snapped back to reality. 

They spent no more than 10 minutes maneuvering through the big city to the northern exit gate, but Volo got three massive impressions of this giant settlement from that little time.

1. There were WAY too many people. If you doubled, tripled, or even quadrupled the amount of people living in Jubilife village, it wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket compared to how many people were walking about. The largest population he’d ever laid eyes on was in a region called Galar, which he visited when purchasing goods with the Ginkgo guild, but even that couldn’t hold a candle to this. It was even nighttime, but no one was returning to their houses in fear of an alpha attack or ghost type possession. Maybe the lights from all the buildings served to scare off wild Pokemon?
2. There were SO many smells. It was like an assault on his senses. Foul smelling sludge stank up certain areas, but the sweet smell of dessert permeated others. BO, perfume, savory food, smoke, fur, everything mixed and mingled in pleasant and unpleasant ways. It didn’t seem to bother the twins or their other Pokemon companion, though.
3. He was woefully uneducated about the types of Pokemon to exist in this world. Almighty Arceus could have created many different species, or more existed than he could have ever fathomed back in Hisui. Each region had their own selection, sure, but he hadn’t gone far enough into their respective wildernesses to understand the wide berth that clearly was present. The only ones he really recognized were an Oshawott, a weird looking Lilligant, a few Zubat, a Riolu, a black Zorua, a few Rufflet, and a Dewott. Besides that, there were easily 40-50 species that were new to him. A floating green orb, a small grey creature with big, white-tipped ears, and a massive dragon with sharp axes protruding from its mouth were just a few. 

He felt like his head was spinning, and he had hardly enough time to process it all when two bland-looking braviary descended from the sky, Ingo and Emmet mounting the saddles conveniently placed on their backs. It was nice to see something relatively familiar, despite the differences: he’d seen Akari ride on the back of a Braviary multiple times, but never one without psychic power. Of course, he’d never actually gotten to ride it–Pokemon (especially psychic types) were a bit too perceptive for his liking, and he tended to steer clear of them. It’s why he never carried one around with him, despite their inherent strength.

In a way, it was kind of exciting. He hopped down, sheltered between Ingo’s chest and Braviary’s back, gripping the saddle for dear life. He couldn’t help but yelp when it flapped its massive wings, lifting off the ground in less than a second. The upward force pushed him into the saddle, pinning him down for a few seconds and obscuring his view of the world around him. After a few tense moments, the pressure relaxed and the wind rippled through his fur as the regal bird Pokemon reached its preferred altitude, and he mustered the courage to peek out over the side.

Everything looked… small. Just as small as it did when he had looked out over the peak of Mount Coronet. His muscles relaxed, and he let out a sigh. He wished, in the back of his mind, that he could have taken rides like this with his Togekiss. He had tried to ride it once, but it was a ground-scraping glide at best. He didn’t want to risk getting injured so close to his plan’s completion, and with Togekiss just evolving, he just didn’t have time to get used to balancing on it. Being so diminutive now, it was easy, and if he had a saddle back then, it would have been within reach, but… it was too late for that.

Choosing to focus on his surroundings rather than wallow over the past, he looked down and scanned the local terrain. Below him was a sea of sand that stretched out for miles, but it was not an empty desert. Buildings dotted the landscape; ruined buildings. Some were half-buried, some were just foundation, and others were mostly in-tact. They were too far off to make out detail, but it was definitely some sort of archaeological site. He made a mental note of the location for later, as the thought of investigating ancient ruins tickled his brain even as a Pokemon.

On either side of this desert, far in the distance were expanses of water as far as the eye could see. Castelia city was most definitely a peninsular city – looking back, the two bodies of water met where he had crossed that massive bridge. A desert… by a peninsula. It couldn’t be, could it? 

He had visited a township a long time ago, on his way to the Galar. It was small, but it was near a desert. The township itself had become a port and trading hub for the entire region and beyond, and despite him trying to shirk his duties and explore the expanse of a new terrain he’d never seen, Ginter had grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him back to work. This region, one of ‘truth and ideals’, according to the natives, and home to a rich diversity of Pokemon and people. This region, where on the way back, they had discovered a stowaway Oshawott and decided to give it to Professor Laventon for safe keeping. This region, whose Oshawott would be chosen by Arceus’s champion and taken to the ends of existence in hopes of restoring the damage that HE had caused. What goes around comes around, and if he was right, this was Unova. If this was Unova, then this world wasn’t new at all. Different, but definitely not new. Things just got curiouser and curiouser, although he was grateful to be piecing some things together. 

Altitude descending, he grabbed the saddle once again and held on tight until the bird Pokemon landed and Ingo hopped off and stood next to his brother. Volo jumped back on Ingo’s shoulder, watching as the Braviary took flight again back towards Castelia city. He let himself wonder, just for a second, what life would have been like in Hisui had Pokemon and people been so tightly intertwined like they were here. Maybe certain… events… could have been avoided. Or maybe there would have been an entirely new set of problems.

He let out one more sigh, getting carried to wherever his next destination was in a brand-new place.

Good grief. He’d been around the planet, hiked across wilderness, through snowstorms, rainstorms, hurricanes, typhoons, uphill, downhill, and he still came out of the journey to Ingo’s home more mentally exhausted than he ever had before. He thought they had been relatively close when they reached the settlement with a giant, light-up spinning wheel, but he had severely underestimated what it took to get around in this world. 

All in all, from after the Braviary flew away, they:

1. Walked through more busy streets to a mysterious building leading to some sort of underground shelter
2. Navigated through seas of people through the hellish, claustrophobic mess they called a ‘subway station’
3. Had to stop a grand total of 8 times to talk to fans, friends, and people that he assumed Ingo and Emmet worked with (keeping up appearances, of course)
4. Boarded some kind of powered cart that went WAY faster than he bargained for, shook like hell, and assaulted his ears with loud clacking for over an hour
5. Navigated ANOTHER maze-like depot, although admittedly much less crowded than the previous one, and
6. Took a 15 minute walk past some sort of storage facility for the powered carts, finally stopping at a large home on its own street. 

By the time they got there, though, he had completely checked out. He was slumped over Ingo’s shoulder, half motion sick and half fatigued by the complete overstimulation. Even though he knew it wasn’t a completely new world, it might as well have been with all the new sights, sounds and smells he’d encountered in a much more sensitive body. Emmet reached over and patted his head roughly, tussling the fur in front of his left eye. 

“We have arrived at our final stop! Not to worry, passenger! You will be free to rest soon! It is a verrrrry long trip. Anville town is verrrrrry far away. But it is where we live. You will have to get used to it! What does not kill you makes you stronger!” Emmet’s plastered smile and worthless platitudes wormed their way through Volo’s brain, nearly causing his mask to slip. Electricity sparked at his cheeks, and the look he shot Ingo’s brother could only be described as ‘try me’. Emmet, seeing the sparks, decided to reach out a finger to tap Volo’s cheek. Unsurprisingly, this action would (unintentionally on Volo’s part) result in Emmet nearly getting fried by dozens of volts of electricity discharging directly into him.

Shit. This could be bad. Even if the little twit deserved it, that little accident caused by him not knowing how to control his electricity could backfire tremendously on him. If Ingo got mad that Volo had ‘attacked’ his brother, if Emmet got too hurt by the electricity... he could get abandoned, or worse, culled by whatever other Pokemon they had. Volo whipped around, ready to apologize profusely in whatever way would be understood, when Ingo’s voice cut him off.

“Emmet… dearest brother….  I know you like to train electric-types, and the shocks don’t affect you much anymore, but please, it can’t be good for you in the long run to keep testing them. Provoking them and then feeling how powerful their shock is will get you killed one day, you know.” Emmet’s finger pulled away from Volo’s cheek and he coughed a bit, smoke and steam rising from his charred visage. 

“Experiencing their power firsthand, **cough** , is important to understanding their skill!”

“You’re reckless, you know that, right?”

“I am Emmet. I am not reckless, I know what I am doing.” This response earned him a soft smack on the back of the head, and Ingo briskly unlocked the door and headed inside.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: The First Dream

Golden fields. Children’s Laughter. A setting sun casting a golden glow across the horizon.

Where… was he? He looked down to the sight of human hands, human feet, HIS human body. He was wearing his traditional Celestic outfit, but his hair had fallen out of place, draping over his shoulders and slightly down his back. A good chunk was still covering one eye, but it was nowhere near as neat as he once had it. 

A child ran past him, then two, then three. Each was dressed just like he had read in textbooks, they were his people. Adults suddenly appearing in the field called out to them in a language he barely understood, baskets in their arms or on their heads, a bounty of barley and wheat in each one. He tried calling out, but no noise came from his throat. He ran over, desperately trying to cling to their robes, but his hand phased through as if he were a specter.

Then, fire licked at the edges of his vision. He swung around, trying to figure out where it had come from. Spontaneous and all-encompassing, it began devouring the field, leaving a wide ring around him. The people there simply walked into the flames, becoming soot and scattering on the wind with not so much as a scream. Dancing embers and deafening silence filled his senses, wrapping around him like a blanket of catastrophe.

The ring was empty now, except for him and one other woman.

Blonde hair a shade lighter than his, waving in the wind.

She looked like him, but just a smidgen different.

She wore a toga, as he had, but it scraped the floor. A teardrop necklace hung from her neck.

She reached out and pointed. Pointed directly towards him. Her eyes looked tired and worn. Something inside his soul pushed him forward, taking step by step towards her. The flames subsided behind the woman, leading to an opening. He could escape with her, she could see him. His soul was bound by a red chain, and she was pulling it towards salvation. 

No. No, he couldn’t go with her. Her pull was strong, but he began fighting. He dug his heels in, resisting with all his might. The red thread between them became taught and corporeal, and with it, an opportunity. He grabbed it and pulled as hard as he could, shattering it completely. Crimson shards littered the ground beneath his feet. He took one last glance at her: her eyes were looking more sunken in, and her arm returned to her side. She simply watched him as he turned tail, heart thrumming, into the flames. They surrounded him, scorching him with their touch. 

The flames grabbed hold of his arms, his waist, and his throat, dragging him into and through the ground. He tried to scream, but again, nothing came out. He couldn’t bring himself to look back at the woman. As his head disappeared beneath the ground, and suffocation began taking over, he couldn’t help but wonder if this is what he deserved. 

He awoke with a start, drawing shallow, coughing breaths. His fur was drenched in sweat. His tail had inflated to twice its original size, each hair standing on end. Everything was back to how it was: he was a Pokemon, and in a region across the sea from where he had called home.

“Bad dream?” A mysterious voice grabbed his attention.

Volo whipped around, meeting eyes with a large, yellow, insectoid creature. Its 6 eyes all focused on him, and he struggled to figure out which one to look at. Volo paused, trying to figure out what to say. Was this one of the twins’ partners? Despite his shock and horror at what he had just experienced, he knew that he couldn’t afford to make a bad impression if it was. His focus was low, however, and he couldn’t quite muster up his signature smile as he responded.

“Sure… just a bad dream.” he looked away, relaxing back into the cushion below him with a soft huff.

“Sorry for creeping over you, sweetie. You were crying out in your sleep. That, and zapping the air. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she said, her tone rich with sympathy. It made him want to hurl. Pulling himself together, he wrapped his tail around his form using it as a chinrest, slightly muffling his words.

“Well, I’m fine, no worries! You can just… leave me to go back to sleep. Thank you for checking on me, I suppose,”

“You’re Ingo’s new one, yes? I saw you come in with him. It can be hard to adjust to a new environment, I know that.”

“. . .”  Volo just stared ahead at the interior of the room, dark and undefined in the dead of night. That magnitude of nightmare wasn’t just a part of his ‘adjustment’, it was likely a part of his punishment on top of everything else. Was this going to happen every night? He hoped to any deity who was listening that it wasn’t. “Listen… it’s been a long day. I apologize if I came off as rude before, I just… can’t get used to it all. It’s so strange… everything.”

“Oh, I know that feeling. When I first got caught, I was just a little Joltik in Chargestone cave. Let me tell you, going from living in a dark, electromagnetic field to living in suburbia is more than just a little adjustment. It’s an entirely different game from surviving on your own. But let me tell you, it’s worth being on a team.”

“Right. . . I’ve been wild. . . all my life. Right,” he mused, turning the idea over in his head. “It’s definitely a bigger change than I bargained for.”

“You’ll get used to it. The noises stop ringing in your skull, and with the hustle and bustle, you never get bored. Plus, we have a great little family of Pokemon here. Have you met any of them?”

“I think I met… the ground type with giant claws.”

“Ah, Axel. She’s wonderful! You’ll never find a Pokemon as loyal as her. She’s not one for small talk, but she does appreciate smaller gestures from the others.”

“Others… exactly how many ‘others’ are there?” He turned his eyes back to the bug, who skittered to his side and laid down to rest.

“Well, there were 8 of us in total, including me… now I suppose there’s nine. I’m Doodlebug, by the way! A Galvantula, pleased to meet you.”

“I’m…” Volo paused, leaving a stillness in the air only filled by a soft clock ticking. Did he want them knowing his real name? Would that cause problems? Did wild Pokemon even have names, or did they just adopt the names their trainers called them? Without living it, he had no way of knowing. “... a Pachirisu. That’s all.”

“Well then, Pachirisu, we’ll just have to see what Ingo nicknamed you in the morning.”

“Do we… HAVE to use the name our trainer gives us?” This question caused Doodlebug to laugh, her abdomen quivering with delight.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to, little one, but it’s a whole lot easier to wrap your head around things by using it.”

“If… in theory, I already HAD a name…”

“Unless you know how to write in human script, there’s no way they would know how to say it.”

“And if I did?”

“Then you’d be quite the legendary Pachirisu! Psychic types are usually the only ones that have that power and understanding of written human language.”

“Right… sorry, weird questions, I know. I should know the answers, but, I…” He flattened his ears a little bit as he searched for some sort of explanation. “I just grew up in a weird place.”

“Not to worry, little one. Everyone’s situation is different. I’m not one to pry. To have such a heavy dream, you must have gone through a lot.” Volo’s ears flattened more, and he frowned a bit. Such sentiments were worthless to him, and for some reason, it was pissing him off more than usual. Good people like her were always the first to try to cozy up to him and get him to change his mind. He had tramped Cogita and Akari’s efforts, but it seemed as though they never stopped coming, even now. He forced the corners of his mouth outwards, losing the frown and slipping back into his performative self now that he was a bit more awake.

“Well, thank you for that! It’s quite nice to see such caring Peo–Pokemon around here. It seems like I’ll be well taken care of!”

“Oh… did that manage to put you in a better mood, or are you just trying to spare my feelings?” He twitched involuntarily, earning another chuckle out of Doodlebug. “Growing up next to people like Ingo and Emmet, you see a lot of humans make that exact face when trying to please others in a disingenuous way. I’d like to think that after a long while of being with the twins, viewing others that try to use them to further their own goals, that I’m a bit of a pro at spotting it.” Volo didn’t quite know how to take that comment. Part of it shocked him, part of it triggered terror deep in his soul. It was as if she could see right through him, down to the core. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy. We just met. You’re in a new place, with a bunch of new faces. The recipe for happiness is time, comfort, and company. Old scars will heal, and new possibilities sprout up through the cracks they left behind. We can provide the comfort and the company, but not the time. That, little one, is up to the gods.”

In a way, she was right. He didn’t believe one lick of ‘comfort and company making happiness’, but Almighty Arceus had given him all the time in the world. With that time would come effort, and with effort would come his reward. His new world would bring him happiness.

Nothing else.

Nothing else…?

Nothing… else.

He turned his back to Doodlebug, wrapping his tail around himself fully and muffling his speech a bit.

“Fine then… goodnight.”

“Goodnight, little one.”

“. . . Volo. It’s Volo.”

“Well then… Goodnight, Volo. I will see you in the morning. Please do not hesitate to come find me if something bothers you. I can at the very least keep you company.” Doodlebug got up, crawling down and out of the room, leaving him with his thoughts. 

He spent what felt like forever trying to quiet his brain before falling back into sleep, his only solace being the warmth he felt from his own fur and the quiet resolution, though now chipped, pushing him forward into tomorrow.

From the corner of the room unseen, a flicker of flame danced, spun, then vanished out of sight, only now leaving Volo well and truly alone.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Volo’s Guide on How to be a Pokemon

“Pachirisu! Use discharge!” 

“Pachiri… Pachi….”

“Ingo, you may need to switch tracks. This is not working.”

“Hm…. clearly….”

Ingo had been attempting to test his new partner’s strength all morning to very limited success. He’d been able to get the electric-type to hit a stump with its tail, bite a twig, and release some uncontrolled electricity from its cheeks, but nothing that would resemble a ‘move’, per se. It had definitely been using discharge in Nacrene, but it couldn’t seem to do it now. That being said, it didn’t seem like straight-up disobedience like he’d seen on the battle subway many a time. Every time he gave a command, the Pachirisu would attempt something, all with a frustrated, forced smile (which he still thought looked like Emmet’s). After a few seconds of trying, it would look up at him with that same expression, as if to say ‘well, what now?’. Rinse and repeat. Hours later, and its mouth was twitching at the edges, like a creature who was on the edge of snapping, and Ingo was running out of ideas. “Perhaps it’s time for a break… sorry for pushing you so hard. We’ll try again once Elesa gets here. She should know more about what’s going on here. For now, why don’t you rest?”

The Pachirisu sighed (with relief or frustration, he could not tell), and with an unreadable countenance bounded away through the open door back into the house.

“The great Gear Station Boss Ingo, taken down by the EleSquirrel Pokemon!” Emmet, who was washing off his Eelektross nearby, smugly walked over and patted Ingo’s shoulder twice. “It’s like you’re in grade school again!~”

“...No… it’s not that. It’s more like anything above the instinctual level just isn’t there. I haven’t heard of anything like that, have you?”

“I was trying to tease you, but no. On a serious level, I’ve not seen anything like it. It is verrrrrry strange. Everything about that one is strange. It gives me the creeps when it looks at me.”

“Don’t be mean, Emmet. It’s just a Pachirisu. You said the same thing about Signal when she was a Litwick, and look at her now.”

“That is because she was sucking your life force out. You said I was reckless yesterday. I would say the same thing about you.” He turned back towards his Eelektross and resumed scrubbing him down, earning trills of happiness from the giant eel.

“Signal was just getting used to me as a trainer. Now she’s the most loyal partner I could ask for… hopefully the same thing will happen with this Pachirisu as well.” 

“Speaking of, what are you going to name it? Calling it ‘This Pachirisu’ is verrrry awkward.” Ingo shook his head, looking down with a lost expression.

“If I’m being perfectly honest, I’m not sure. Nothing has really jumped out at me… any suggestions?”

“Train!”
“You say that every time… I’m no longer taking suggestions from you.”

“One day you will take that name! It will be verrry fitting!”

“Yes, yes. I tend to make my partner’s names a bit more creative than that.” As Emmet let out a noise of discontentment, the front doorbell rang, giving Ingo the opportunity to go back inside to answer it. He waved back to his brother as he went, heading to the front door to let his expected guest in.

There on the front stoop was a woman of around 26 wearing a puffy yellow jacket. Her sharp eyes were softened by a small smile beneath them, framed beneath black bangs that swept to right above her lashes. Her outfit underneath the jacket consisted of stylish short-shorts and a halter top, showing off her long legs and slender figure. 

“Ingo! It’s so nice to see you!” She stepped forward, the two of them exchanging a quick but tight hug. “It’s been ages since I’ve come over to your place. You asked for my help with something?”

“Elesa, thank you so much for coming on such short notice. We are in need of your expertise. But first, why don’t you come in? I’ll get you some coffee. Strong as always, right?”

“You know it!”

Elesa had been friends with Ingo and Emmet since they became Gear Station employees right at the tail end of high school. Although they had monumentally different paths, with Elesa being a gym leader and model, there was something about her that made her easy to talk to. She had a great listening ear–he vividly remembered when she had actively listened to Emmet’s 4 hour rant about the different types of trains that the gear station could accommodate, including the retired models and ones from abroad that they couldn’t get imported. In return, the twins listened to her go on about the history of Unovan fashion and the role important political figures had on what was ‘in vogue’ at a certain time. That, and tolerated her horrible puns along the way. He would cover for her gym when she was away, and she would assist with wild Pokemon removal from the tunnels near the subway. There was no keeping score–they just did things for each other when they were needed. He considered her one of his closest confidants, and was looking forward to getting her opinion considering her type specialty.

Ingo stepped aside, letting her enter the house. She took a seat in their living room, crossing her legs and allowing herself to decompress a bit. Ingo prepped her coffee, making it exactly how she had liked it–the exact same as it had been over their 8 years of friendship–and delivered it before sitting next to her. He let himself sigh, relaxing a bit into the cushions behind him. “That was a big sigh… Ingo, is something going on?”

“Nothing serious, just… puzzling. It’s hard to put into words, but… you’re an electric-type expert. Have you ever had a Pokemon–how do I put this–not… know… how to use moves? Intentionally?”

“. . .” She took a sip of her coffee after blowing over it, her expression turning a bit puzzled. “What do you mean by that? Like, not be able to use moves at all?”

“No, it can use moves, just not intentionally. I was telling Emmet earlier, it almost seems like anything other than base instinct is gone. It gave my brother a nasty shock, it knocked out power to ALL of Nacrene city, so by all rights it should be trained up to a pretty high level, but it’s just, well, not.”

“Hm… well, even the most dazzling electric types sometimes have problems figuring out the source of their electric power when they’re young. Like Pichu, who hurt themselves because they discharge too much when they get scared, or even Elekid that manage to call lightning sometimes. How old is the Pokemon in question?”

“Seems to be an adult, although I’m no professional, so it could be younger than it looks.”

“I mean, I’ve also heard of Rotom having issues like that when it changes form, based on where the battery of the device it’s inhabiting is located. I think it mostly boils down to a lack of personal understanding. Rare in adult electric types, for sure, but I suppose not impossible. Could I take a look?”

“Yes, of course. Word of warning, though, I haven’t nicknamed it yet and I don’t even know how to refer to it gender-wise, so I’m more than a bit lost. Yesterday was supposed to just be a simple board presentation about the railway expansion all the way to Striaton, I didn’t really anticipate the tracks twisting this much. I’d appreciate any help you can give me in getting it to use moves, if possible.

“So…” her lips turned into a slight smirk. “You want me to… train it?”

“. . . Elesa. I don’t think puns are very effective without much context.” She giggled, struggling to drink her coffee without spitting it out.

“Sorry, sorry! I know, I know.” She took a minute to finish her drink before standing up. “Now… let’s find this little one! Even if I can’t end up helping, I would love to see the kind of Pokemon that would knock out power to Nacrene, as you said. That takes a lot of juice… Even most of my partners would ‘struggle-bug’ with that!” This elicited a long sign from Ingo.

“Good one, Elesa.”

“Thanks!”

Volo had come outside begrudgingly after being led outside by Ingo, and was completely caught off guard when he was bowled over by a small Pokemon descending rapidly from the sky. This was followed by another descending shape of a similar size slamming into them both, sending the trio rolling across the yard. When they finally came to a stop he looked up, an angry smile plastered on his face.

“Would you kindly get off of me?” The two Pokemon’s large, curious eyes stared down at him, sparkling with a hint of playfulness. They were of the same species, closely resembling Pikachu (and by extension, himself) with their large, colorful cheeks. Their ears were huge, and wing-like flaps connected their arms to their bodies. 

“Sooorry! We couldn’t help it!” The slightly larger one pulled her sister off of him, and he shook off the dust trying to permeate his fur. Just as he thought he could get some space, the littler one pressed her cheeks against him, and he felt a surge of electricity pump into him. It made him yelp and jump back, before realizing that it didn’t really hurt at all. 

A tall woman he didn’t recognize ran over, picking up one sibling in each arm. She was dressed like Irida, but somehow came off a lot flashier.

“So sorry! They get overexcited… You must be the one Ingo’s been talking about, right? You’re stunning for a Pachirisu, little one! I’ve never seen one of your type with such long fur in its face. I’m Elesa, one of Ingo’s friends, and these are Emmie and Ollie, my Emolga. It’s nice to meet you!” Her Emolga, held comfortably in her grip, cried out greetings of their own. Not the best first impression he’d ever seen, but if she could help him use moves, it would be well worth it.

He’d been embarrassed for hours that morning, bashing his head against a metaphorical wall trying to have any sort of power move through him. Of course, Ingo had been no help: he was probably used to just sending out commands willy-nilly and having his partners follow his lead for most of his existence. How pathetic, he thought, his tail twitching a bit. A Pokemon who can’t fight is useless. The sooner I can use my powers, the sooner I can take things into my own hands and find a way back to Hisui. The stronger I am, the more I can push these dolts around!

“Let’s get going, then!” He stepped forward, the determined declaration spilling out. His smile pushed outward, giving an expression that read as excitement to the humans around him. If they knew him better, they would have been able to identify the crazed obsession with control lighting a flame underneath his skin.

“You look like you’re raring to go! Emmie, Ollie, I’ll leave it to you two! Show him how it’s done.” She released them from her grip and they leapt off her, gliding through the air down towards him. They flanked him on each side, both pressing one of their cheeks on his and zapping him yet again. He jumped back, his ears pinning down but his smile remaining the same.

“Haha… what do you think you’re doing, anyways? That thing where you shock me, I must be missing something, unless you think beating me up is going to somehow allow me to freely control my powers!” People, or in this case Pokemon invading his personal bubble without his permission 

Ollie, the younger and smaller of the two Emolga, cocked her head to the side, making her ears jiggle a bit with the motion.

“You MUST be missing something then, ‘cuz we were just saying hi!”

“And saying hi includes electrocuting me?”

Emmie, the older and larger of the two Emolga, crossed her arms a bit.

“It’s not electrocution, it’s exchanging electricity. It’s what Pokemon with these types of cheeks do? Unless… you’ve never done it before?”

Ollie gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. 

“Omigosh, I got it! You were never loved as a child! You must have been abandoned in the woods by your birth parents, and never got to be around anyone like you! That’s so sad!” Volo’s ears pinned even harder, the forced smile slipping and leaving his lips. That is, until Emmie shoved Ollie hard, the latter having to take a few steps to avoid falling over into the dirt.

“Ollie! You can’t just go saying that stuff! That was so rude, you never know where another Pokemon comes from! That kind of attitude is so… so… so un-attractive on you.”

“S-Sorry, Emmie!” Ollie visibly deflated, her ears and tail drooping and her head turned down.

“You shouldn’t apologize to me.”

“Sorry, er…” She turned towards Volo slowly, not keeping eye contact for more than a fraction of a second. “What was your name again?” Volo sighed, and although he kept his rage bottled up inside of him, regained control of his emotions and took a deep breath.

“It’s Volo. No harm done! I was just taken aback, that’s all! So, you were saying that Pokemon with electrified cheeks exchange electricity with each other, right? How and why do they do that, on a biological level?”

Emmie took the reins, stepping forward while her sister wallowed in the background.

“A bit of an odd question, but… the organ that stores our electricity is connected to our cheeks. But that builds up over time. It feels good to use it, most days, so you get the nice feeling of letting some electricity out while also getting energized off of refilling your tank. Does that make sense?”

“Huh. . . actually, that does make a lot of sense. So when that organ tenses, electricity comes out? I’ve never–” He paused a second to choose his next words very carefully. “--been able to do it on purpose before.”

“Oh, really? Never heard of that happening, but yea. Here, I know it put you off before, but mind if I swap electricity with you again?”

“Is that really super necessary?”

“Well, if you pay attention to where the electricity is going, you’ll be able to locate where that organ is. Then, if you know where it is, it might get easier for you to discharge electricity at will!”

“. . .” Volo mulled it over for a second before sighing internally. The logic was sound. If that was the only way to do it, he had to suck it up. He just had to internalize that it was all for his end goal. Right, all for the end goal, no matter how humiliating or dehumanizing it was. “Then I suppose I’ll say yes! I hope this works.” Emmie walked over, bumping cheeks with him again and letting out a steady stream of voltage to Volo. 

He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of the power entering his cheeks, travelling not too far to about the jawline, and stopping there to pool. The localized feeling of the organ swelling up was almost imperceptible, but he could just barely feel it as he paid attention to nothing else. Just. . . contract those muscles. That’s all there is to it. And after just a few seconds more, his cheeks lit up. He sent at first just a spark, then an arc, and as his eyes opened and he could see he wasn’t fully frying the other Pokemon, a steady stream of completely controlled electric power.

Emmie had been right, it did feel quite nice. A veritable give and take, push and pull of your own power, like a handshake of sorts. He stayed there, relaxing until the realization hit him that he was doing it–he was being a Pokemon. Using moves, engaging in Pokemon related culture, it made his fur stand on end. A genuine smile of intellectual revelation grew on him, and to the others, it must have seemed like his eyes were sparkling. He inched away from Emmie. If he could do it away from her, do it any time, then he was well on his way. Their cheeks disconnected, but he continued making sparks. He kept inching away, the smile growing bigger and bigger, until he broke into a full sprint around the yard, yelling out and releasing as much electricity as he could at once.

As much… as he could. It was a good thing that the Subway Brothers had several lightning rods attached to their property (thank Arceus for having multiple electric-types already) or the damage would have been catastrophic. Volo didn’t realize that releasing all his electricity at once would upset the natural balance of electricity in the atmosphere, instantaneously calling down a bolt of lightning before Ingo or Elesa could truly realize what was happening. It slammed into the nearby metal rod, the impact causing a deafening crack and roll of thunder big enough to almost sweep Volo off his feet. He just stood there, shaken by what he had just done. Holy crap. Despite it being his move, the power of nature was absolutely terrifying. Could ALL electric-types do this? If so, he was glad he hadn’t ran into more Luxray on his adventures, or he probably  would have been cooked alive.

Ingo, who had covered his ears after he saw the lightning coming down, slowly brought his hands away from his head and processed the situation. He then turned to Elesa, grabbing her hands in his.

“It… it worked! That was a move! That was Thunder! You and your Pokemon are amazing!” Elesa grinned, giving a wink to Emmie. 

“I can’t take credit. That was all them! Although, somehow I think Ollie struck out on this one.” She hoisted a dejected Ollie up on her shoulder, petting her with one arm to comfort her. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it would work or not, but who better to teach a Pokemon how to be a Pokemon then… well… a Pokemon!”

“You’re a genius, Elesa! And wow, Pachirisu! That was quite the Thunder! It shook the earth!”

Volo watched closely as Ingo went on and on about the leap in progress that was had in just a short time, how powerful he was, and more, and more, and more. He was genuinely celebrating him. That had never… happened to him before.

Even when he had discovered ancient artifacts, deciphered ruins, and translated ancient Celestic ruins, it was always met with a ‘That’s nice, Volo’ or ‘Impressive job, I suppose’ or ‘Hmm. Perhaps those ruins are best left alone’ from Mistress Cogita. A hearty pat on the back, some extra dinner at mealtime, small nods to what he’d done, but nothing like this.

And this was so small compared to his other accomplishments. He was just… doing what Pokemon should know how to do already. The bare minimum. So why was he celebrating? It made his heart ache, in a way he couldn’t describe. Over a few moments, though, this ache turned into the tiniest spark of resolve deep in his soul.

Well, time to rip this band-aid off, I guess. No telling what happens now. I know moves, so I can at least hold my own if he starts asking too many questions.

He slowly walked over to Ingo, pulling out a piece of paper from his tail. He had written it in secret earlier, in the script that he knew how to write, just in case. He jumped up to Ingo’s shoulder, waving it in front of his face. Ingo, slightly taken aback, stopped talking and grabbed the piece of paper.

He unfolded it, taking a look at its contents. He stared… and stared. Then turned the piece of paper over, back to the front, rotated it to the side, then to the other side, then upside down, then right-side up again. “Ahha… thank you? Although, I’m not sure what it says…?”

Shit. Arceus be damned, I forgot! Unovans use a whole different language! He’d written it in Hisuian script, but he’d never learned how to write in Unovan. He somehow understood everything Ingo was saying (must be a perk of being a Pokemon), but that was useless if he couldn’t communicate by writing!

Ingo handed Elesa the note, also taking notice of Volo’s exasperated expression. “Can you make anything of this?” Elesa looked it over, tilting her head to the side.

“This is Sinnohan… You know the champion over there, right? She taught me the basic characters when I went over there for a modeling job with her once. So… let me see if I remember… ウォ... I think that’s ‘uo’ or ‘vo’, and ロ is ‘ro’ or ‘lo’... so ‘uoro’? ‘Uolo’? ‘Voro’... ‘Volo?’”

“There!” Volo pointed at her with a loud squeak, startling both of them.

“Volo… ok, what does that mean? Ingo? Does that ring a bell?” Volo couldn’t help but shift nervously. If his name appeared at any point in the history books, he was screwed. He had no way of knowing what was and wasn’t public knowledge, especially across region lines.

“No, not really, but… is that your name, by chance? ‘Volo’?” Ingo stared at him, taking the paper back from Elesa. Volo’s muscles untensed with their lack of reaction, and he nodded firmly. “Volo… so you did have a trainer at one time? Or at least someone who took care of you, even if they didn’t catch you… interesting. Well, it’s good to have a name for a face, I suppose! I can’t go renaming an already nicknamed Pokemon, can I? Volo… good job today! Thank you for all your hard work! You’re quite strong, despite the strange circumstances. I look forward to seeing how we can work together in the future!”

He put his hand out in a way that he’d only seen once before. Akari had held her hand like that at Mistress Cogita’s home, after they had attained all the pieces for the red chain. She called it a ‘high five’, and although he didn’t get the appeal at all, the memory still clung to him like a vine. Despite his better judgement, he reached out, tapping his paw against Ingo’s hand. The look of joy in his eyes was like hers. A simple motion, yet it brought so much joy to them. What a strange place the future was. 

But yet, he couldn’t say he hated it.