Yo yo yo, I'm back, woohoo! I was actually planning to post a chapter saying I'd dropped this fic for April Fool's, lol. But I felt like I'd be such a jerk if I did that after long fking months with no chapter, or maybe this chapter itself is the April Fool's prank and announce that i'll drop this fic tomorrow, kyahahaha.
Anyway, here's the first chapter for today. I still have 9 unposted chapters that haven't been edited yet, so once this one is up, I'll get straight to editing those.
These chapters are of the same arc. I'm thinking of kicking things off with some fight scenes to bridge the gap until the eggs hatch, followed by a few slice of life chapters and some Pokémon battles, then a time skip straight to the first day of school :3 And yes, participate in the main events of ZZZ.
Chapters from now on will be shorter than before since I'm need to focus on my studies. They'll probably be about 50% or even 25% the usual length, though I'll still drop a long one every now and then. And actually, those first chapters are actually just several smaller chapters I put together XD
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Cedric drifted into a restless slumber, a fragile state where the boundaries of reality and memory began to blur, weaving together into a shimmering ribbon of amber light.
In this dream, he found himself standing in the heart of an infinite, rolling field.
The grass, a deep and vibrant amber, grew tall enough to brush against his waist, swaying in a synchronized, mesmerizing dance that stretched toward the golden horizon.
The wind rushing through the stalks transformed into a complex, rhythmic rustle—a low frequency symphony of absolute peace that resonated deep within his bones.
The air was thick and heavy, carrying the scent of sun-dried hay and the mellow, golden sweetness of a late afternoon that seemed destined to last forever.
For the first time in what felt like centuries, the constant, jagged tension in his chest simply evaporated, replaced by a warmth he had long since forgotten.
Then, he saw him.
Milo emerged from the golden waves like a joyful, flickering spirit.
His coat was a striking mosaic of stark white and deep black, the patches sharp and clear against the glowing amber backdrop.
He was exactly as Cedric remembered him in the best of times. Healthy, vibrant, and overflowing with an innocent, unyielding life.
The small dog barked, a sound so clear and bright it seemed to echo through the very foundations of Cedric's soul.
Milo began to dash in frantic, happy circles around his legs, his small paws barely touching the earth.
Every sensation was magnified to a point of painful beauty.
Cedric felt the rhythmic, solid thump of Milo's tail against his shins.
He felt the tickle of the dry grass against his skin and the damp, rough warmth of a small tongue licking his palm.
It was so vivid, so breathtakingly real, that it was agonizing.
Cedric sank to his knees, his fingers trembling with a desperate, starving hunger as they buried themselves in the soft, thick fur behind Milo's ears.
He could feel the steady, rapid heartbeat of the small creature—a tiny, frantic rhythm he had once sworn, with every fiber of his being, to protect.
"Milo..." he whispered, his voice cracking and small.
He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the dog's cool, wet nose.
He tried to memorize the weight of him, tried to anchor his entire existence to this one point of pure, untainted happiness.
But the dream was a cruel, fragile glass sculpture.
A single discordant note—a sharp, metallic screech that tore through the music of the wind—shattered the symphony.
The amber sky was suddenly devoured by heavy, bruised clouds that bled black ink into the air.
In the span of a single heartbeat, the golden grass withered to ash, dissolving into a grey, featureless void.
The sanctuary vanished.
In its place was the cold, suffocating shadow of the concrete arch, the air turning damp and smelling of stagnant river water and old, weeping stone.
Milo didn't disappear instantly. That was the cruelty of it.
Instead, he began to shiver.
The vibrant white and black fur became matted with mud and the freezing, relentless rain.
Cedric felt the life—that precious, rhythmic pulse—slowly stuttering and fading under his touch.
There were no monsters here, no supernatural threats to fight, just the quiet, devastating finality of a small life reaching its end in a world that didn't care.
Milo's eyes, once bright with an endless loyalty, grew dim and glassy.
His body grew heavy and cold in Cedric's arms, before slowly crumbling into fine grey soot that the wind carried away into the dark.
It left Cedric's arms empty, clutching nothing but the freezing, empty air.
...
...
...
Cedric bolted upright in bed, his lungs burning as if he had just surfaced from the crushing depths of the ocean.
Cold sweat tracked down his face, dripping onto his faded shirt.
The phantom coldness of the concrete arch seemed to cling to his skin like a second layer of clothing.
His hands were shaking so violently he had to clench them into fists until his nails bit into his palms.
The silence of Apartment 237 was heavy, pressing against his eardrums with a physical weight.
[Cedric, listen to my voice. Stay with me.]
The System's voice resonated within his mind, pulling him back from the edge of the abyss.
[Breathe. Just breathe. Focus on the air moving in and out of your lungs.]
[One deep breath... hold it... and let it out. Follow the beat. One... two... three...]
Cedric forced himself to follow the instructions, his chest heaving until the sharp, iron constriction began to loosen.
[I am here. You are safe. Look at the light, Cedric.]
He turned his head slowly toward the corner of the room.
The two Pokémon incubators sat there, glowing with a soft, persistent light—one a fierce, protective crimson, the other a tranquil, deep-sea blue.
Their rhythmic humming filled the empty spaces of the room, providing a new, steady symphony to replace the one he had lost.
They were his anchors. They were his future.
Still fueled by a restless, nervous energy that refused to settle, Cedric stood up.
He moved like a ghost through the dim light, pulling on his black windbreaker and zipping it tightly to his chin.
The fabric felt like a suit of armor, a barrier between his fragile, broken interior and the world outside.
As he reached for the door, the System's voice drifted through his thoughts, tinged with a rare, quiet note of concern.
[Cedric? Are you go out for a run? And... are you not taking the eggs with you this time?]
Cedric stopped, his hand resting on the cold, unyielding metal of the doorknob.
He looked back at the two glowing incubators.
They were so small. …So innocent.
The dream he just had flashed in his mind, and he tightened his grip on the handle until the metal groaned.
"No," he said, his voice a low, raspy shadow of its former self.
"It's safer here."
He didn't wait for a response.
He stepped out and locked the door, the heavy click of the mechanism echoing like a finality through the empty hallway.
He needed to run.
He needed the biting wind against his face and the rhythmic burn in his muscles to drown out the echoes of a past that had already turned to ash.
He stepped into the night, leaving the two beating hearts behind in the absolute safety of the quiet room.
…
…
…
The sun had barely begun to claw its way over the skyline of New Eridu, casting long and pale shadows that stretched like skeletal fingers across the pavement of Sixth Street.
A thin silver mist, heavy with the scent of damp concrete and air, clung to the cobblestones and muffled the usual industrial roar of the city into a ghostly hum.
Cedric had just finished his morning run.
His lungs burned with a familiar and rhythmic ache, a sensation he now managed with ease.
Thanks to [Rhythm Sense], he was able to regulate his breathing with mechanical precision, matching each sharp inhale to the steady and solitary slap of his sneakers against the cold ground.
Instead of heading back to his apartment, he continued his walk along Sixth Street.
He was not looking for any interaction, he simply wanted to feel the cool air before the city fully awakened.
Because it was so early, the surrounding space was unnervingly still.
The nearby coffee stalls had not yet unlatched their shutters, and the only sign of life was a lone public service Bangboo in the distance.
There were no witnesses and no crowd, just Cedric and the waking street.
As he slowed to a walk, a sharp and joyous sound shattered the morning peace.
"Woof! Woof-woof!"
Cedric did not even turn his head. He knew that sound well.
Howl, the black and white dog of Sixth Street, was usually confined to his small kiosk, but the sight of a familiar figure was too much to resist.
With a scramble of claws against wood, Howl vaulted over the front counter of his booth, landing on the pavement with a clumsy but eager thud.
The dog was a blur of energy, his tail wagging with a rhythmic thump as he rushed to intercept Cedric.
Howl did not care about Cedric's habitual coldness or his silent demeanor.
He began to weave in and out of Cedric's path, his paws pattering a frantic rhythm against the cobblestones.
He performed a clumsy, joyous pirouette, leaning his warm, solid weight against Cedric's leg—a pressure that momentarily anchored Cedric to the present.
The dog then darted ahead, spinning around to face him while walking backward, his head tilted in a silent, hopeful query.
Cedric kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.
"Go away," Cedric muttered, his voice flat and devoid of any particular emotion. "I don't have anything for you."
But Howl was persistent.
He gave a small, insistent hop, his front paws briefly thumping against Cedric's knees.
For a split second, the dog's wet nose brushed against the back of Cedric's hand, a spark of living warmth in the biting morning chill.
Cedric flinched as if burned, pulling his hand back and tucking it deep into his pocket.
"I said no," Cedric snapped, his tone sharpening.
Hearing the true rejection, Howl finally stopped mid-wag.
His ears drooped low against his head and his tail slowed until it went still.
He let out a soft and dejected whine, his dark eyes filled with a fleeting sadness as he watched the boy's retreating back.
He sat down by the kiosk, looking smaller than usual in the vast and empty street.
At that exact moment, an unnatural gust of wind swept through the surrounding space and caught a colorful magazine sitting on the display of Howl's kiosk.
As a responsible shopkeeper, Howl could not just let his merchandise fly away.
Seeing the magazine tumble across the pavement, he immediately bolted out from where he sat to retrieve it.
Just as Howl leaned down to snag the magazine in his teeth, intending to bring it back to its shelf, the rhythm of the world snapped.
A horrific crack, the sound of reality itself shattering like a dry bone, echoed through the street.
Directly opposite Howl, a Hollow Fissure tore open.
It was not just a hole; it was a jagged and weeping wound in the atmosphere, a gateway that bled thick and viscous purple Ether.
The Fissure crackled with arcs of dark lightning, pulsating like a distorted heart as it began to warp the very space around it.
The gravitational pull shifted instantly, turning the quiet air into a swirling and hungry vortex.
Howl's paws left the ground. He let out a terrified yelp, his black and white body flailing as the Fissure began to pull him into its yawning purple maw.
Cedric's eyes snapped toward the dog. The indifference vanished in a heartbeat.
FWISH
Cedric threw his weight forward, his tired muscles screaming as he suddenly pushed himself into a full, desperate sprint.
He didn't wait for the System to say anything. He simply ran, his sneakers skidding on the damp stones as he lunged with every ounce of strength he had left.
With a forceful leap, Cedric launched his entire body through the air, diving headlong into the center of the distortion.
He slammed into Howl just as the dog was about to be swallowed by the gateway.
He wrapped his thin arms around the dog's sturdy body, pulling Howl into the protective cage of his chest.
He felt the dog's heart hammering against his own ribs—a frantic, living rhythm that cut through his usual numbness.
The massive vacuum of the Hollow seized them both.
The world turned into a kaleidoscope of screaming purple light and crushing darkness.
Cedric squeezed his eyes shut, clutching the dog as if his own soul depended on it.
Then, they were dragged into the yawning and hungry throat of the void.
And just as quickly as it had appeared, the Fissure snapped shut.
The surrounding space returned to its deathly silence.
The mist settled back onto the stones.
The service Bangboo continued its mechanical sweeping, unaware that the street was now empty.
There was no sign of the boy and no sign of the dog.
Because the world was still asleep and no one saw them vanish into the dark.