Pewter City was exactly what Kenji had expected from the games, but somehow more real.
The buildings were constructed from the same gray stone that gave the city its name, sturdy structures that looked like they had weathered centuries of mountain winds. The streets were clean and well-maintained, populated by citizens who moved with the unhurried pace of people who had nowhere urgent to be. In the distance, the mountains loomed like ancient guardians, their peaks dusted with snow even in the warmth of late spring.
The Pokemon Center was their first stop, as planned. Nurse Joy—this region's Nurse Joy, identical to the one in Viridian City in ways that Kenji tried very hard not to think about too deeply—healed their Pokemon with her usual cheerful efficiency.
"Heading to challenge Brock?" she asked, noting the determined looks on their faces.
"That's the plan!" Blue said, puffing out his chest. "I'm going to crush him!"
"With your Squirtle?" Red asked mildly.
"Water beats Rock! It's basic type matchups!"
"It's also a level five Squirtle against trained Gym Pokemon."
"Details!"
Kenji tuned out their bickering, his attention caught by the Pokeballs sitting on the counter. His eight Pokeballs. His eight legendary-or-equivalent Pokemon who could probably level this city if they really wanted to.
One of the balls was shaking.
Kenji frowned. "Um, Nurse Joy? Is it normal for a Pokeball to shake like that?"
Nurse Joy looked at the ball—Celebi's ball, Kenji realized with a sinking feeling—and tilted her head. "Sometimes Pokemon get restless if they've been inside too long. You might want to let it out for some fresh air."
"I don't think that's a good—"
The ball burst open.
Celebi materialized on the counter in a shower of sparkles, spinning in excited circles and making sounds that somehow conveyed extreme enthusiasm despite being completely unintelligible.
"Bi bi bi!" Celebi chirped, zipping around Kenji's head. "Bi bi BI!"
"I don't understand what you're saying!"
"Bi!" Celebi grabbed his ear and tugged, pointing insistently toward the door. "BI BI BI!"
"You want to go outside?"
"BI!"
"Is this about the Gym? Do you want to see the Gym?"
Celebi's entire body vibrated with what could only be described as aggressive affirmation. "BI BI BI BI BI!"
Kenji looked at Red and Blue, who were staring at the tiny time-traveling fairy with expressions ranging from confusion (Blue) to quiet amusement (Red).
"I think Celebi wants to battle Brock," Kenji said slowly.
"The legendary time Pokemon wants to fight a Rock-type Gym Leader?" Blue scratched his head. "Isn't that, like, a massive type disadvantage? Grass-Psychic versus Rock?"
"I don't think Celebi cares about type matchups."
"BI!" Celebi agreed emphatically, executing a little flip in the air.
Kenji sighed. This was his life now. Being bossed around by a tiny green onion fairy that could rewrite the timeline if it got annoyed enough.
"Fine," he said. "Fine. You want to fight Brock? We'll fight Brock. But you have to promise not to do anything too... temporal. No time loops. No erasing anyone from existence. No showing Brock visions of his own death."
Celebi made a sound that was probably agreement but could also have been mischievous giggling. It was hard to tell with Celebi.
"I'm going to regret this," Kenji muttered.
"BI!" Celebi chirped happily, landing on his shoulder and nestling against his neck.
The Pewter City Gym was an imposing structure, built into the side of a rocky hill that dominated the northern edge of the city. Boulders flanked the entrance like guards, and the doors themselves were made of solid stone, carved with images of Rock-type Pokemon in various poses of power.
"Dramatic," Blue observed.
"It's a Gym," Red said. "They're supposed to be dramatic."
Kenji pushed open the doors.
The interior was... a cave. There was no other way to describe it. A massive cavern, lit by torches that cast flickering shadows across the stone walls. The floor was uneven, natural rock worn smooth by countless challenger footsteps. At the far end, elevated on a platform of stacked boulders, sat a figure.
Brock.
He was exactly as Kenji remembered from the anime—spiky brown hair, perpetually squinted eyes, wearing a orange and black outfit that somehow managed to look both casual and imposing. He sat cross-legged on his boulder throne, watching them approach with an expression of calm assessment.
"Challengers?" Brock's voice echoed through the cavern. "Welcome to the Pewter City Gym. I am Brock, the Gym Leader. I specialize in Rock-type Pokemon, solid as stone and twice as resilient."
"We're here to earn our badges!" Blue declared, stepping forward with characteristic bravado. "I'm Blue Oak, grandson of Professor Oak! And I'm going to defeat you!"
Brock's lips twitched in what might have been amusement. "Confident. I like that. Very well, Blue Oak. Step into the challenger's box and we'll begin."
Blue practically ran to his position, Squirtle's Pokeball already in hand.
The battle that followed was... educational.
Blue's Squirtle, despite having the type advantage, was woefully underprepared for Gym-level combat. Brock's Geodude weathered Water Gun attacks with stoic determination before retaliating with Rock Throw, which sent the tiny turtle flying. By the time Brock's Onix emerged—a massive snake of boulders that seemed to fill half the cavern—Blue's Squirtle was already exhausted.
It wasn't a complete defeat. Blue managed to land a few solid hits, and his Squirtle's determination was admirable. But in the end, experience and training trumped type matchups.
Blue recalled his fainted Squirtle with a grimace. "I'll be back," he promised Brock. "This isn't over."
"I look forward to it," Brock replied, and there was genuine respect in his voice. "You have potential. Train hard, and you'll go far."
Red went next.
His Pikachu, despite being an Electric-type with no obvious advantage against Rock, fought with a ferocity that surprised everyone. It dodged Geodude's attacks with supernatural agility, striking back with Quick Attack and Iron Tail—moves that shouldn't have been in a starter Pikachu's repertoire but somehow were.
Brock's Geodude went down.
Onix was a harder fight. The massive snake was immune to Pikachu's electrical attacks, and its sheer size made dodging difficult. But Red's Pikachu was clever, using the terrain to its advantage, bouncing off boulders and striking at weak points with precision that spoke of either intense training or natural genius.
In the end, Pikachu stood victorious, panting but triumphant, standing atop the defeated Onix like a tiny yellow conqueror.
"Impressive," Brock said, genuine surprise coloring his voice. "Your Pikachu is exceptionally well-trained. You've earned the Boulder Badge."
Red accepted the badge with a small nod, recalling Pikachu to its ball for healing.
Then it was Kenji's turn.
Kenji stepped into the challenger's box, very aware of the weight of eight Pokeballs on his belt and the tiny time fairy currently vibrating with excitement on his shoulder.
"Another challenger?" Brock studied him with those squinted eyes. "And what's your name?"
"Kenji. Just Kenji."
"Well, Just Kenji, are you ready to face the power of Rock-type Pokemon?"
Celebi chose this moment to launch itself off Kenji's shoulder, zipping across the battlefield to hover directly in front of Brock's face.
"BI!" it declared, with the energy of a creature issuing a formal challenge.
Brock blinked. Then blinked again. His squinted eyes somehow managed to widen despite still being mostly closed.
"Is that... a Celebi?"
"Yes."
"The legendary time-traveling Pokemon Celebi?"
"Yes."
"And it wants to battle me?"
"BI!" Celebi confirmed, striking what was probably supposed to be an intimidating pose but mostly looked adorable.
Brock was silent for a long moment.
"I have questions," he finally said.
"I don't have answers."
"Fair enough." Brock stood, reaching for his first Pokeball. "Well, I've never fought a legendary Pokemon before. This should be educational."
He released his Geodude.
Celebi made a sound that was definitely contemptuous.
"Celebi," Kenji called out, "use... uh..." He realized he had no idea what moves Celebi knew. In the games, Celebi could learn all sorts of things—Psychic, Leaf Storm, Recover, various time-related moves. But this wasn't the games. This was reality. Or whatever passed for reality in this insane world.
"Just... do what you want, I guess?"
Celebi didn't need to be told twice.
The tiny fairy zipped forward, moving so fast it left afterimages in the air. One moment it was in front of Kenji; the next moment it was everywhere, surrounding Geodude in a spiral of green light and pink energy.
Geodude didn't even have time to attack.
There was a flash of brilliant light, a sound like reality hiccupping, and then Geodude was on the ground, unconscious, small flowers sprouting from its rocky surface.
"What," Brock said flatly.
"I told you," Kenji replied, just as flatly. "I don't have answers."
Brock recalled his Geodude and released his Onix.
The massive boulder snake emerged with a roar, filling the cavern with its presence. It was easily thirty feet long, a creature of living stone that had probably defeated hundreds of challengers.
Celebi giggled.
This time, Kenji caught a glimpse of what happened.
Celebi moved—but not through space. Through time. It flickered, existing in multiple moments simultaneously, attacking from past and future and present all at once. The Onix was hit before it could react, struck by attacks that had already happened and attacks that hadn't happened yet and attacks that were happening right now.
It lasted approximately four seconds.
Four seconds, and Brock's ace Pokemon was unconscious on the ground, tiny temporal flowers blooming across its stone body.
The cavern was very, very quiet.
"I would like to retire," Brock said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Effective immediately. I've seen enough."
"Please don't retire because of me."
"You have a Celebi. A CELEBI. That just defeated my entire team in less than ten seconds total. What am I supposed to do with that information?"
"Give me the badge and try to forget this ever happened?"
Brock considered this.
"That's... actually good advice." He walked down from his boulder platform, moving like a man in a dream, and pressed the Boulder Badge into Kenji's hand. "Here. You've earned it. Please leave. Please never come back. I need to reevaluate my entire life."
"That's fair."
"BI!" Celebi chirped, doing a victory lap around Brock's head before returning to Kenji's shoulder.
Kenji left the Gym as quickly as dignity would allow.
Behind him, he could hear Brock muttering something about career changes and mountain hermitage.
"That was INSANE!" Blue was practically bouncing as they emerged into the afternoon sunlight. "Your Celebi just—it was like—the Onix didn't even—HOW?!"
"Time powers," Kenji said weakly. "It attacked from multiple points in time simultaneously."
"THAT'S NOT A REAL THING THAT SHOULD BE POSSIBLE!"
"And yet."
Red was studying Kenji with that quiet, calculating look he sometimes got. "Your Pokemon are different," he said. "Not just powerful. Different. Like they're playing by different rules than everyone else."
"I've noticed."
"Do you know why?"
Kenji thought about the cosmic voice from his dream. The one that had told him they would all come. The one that had shown him every legendary Pokemon in existence, all waiting, all watching, all converging on him.
"I have theories," he said. "None of them are reassuring."
Before Red could respond, something happened.
A flash of light. Not from the sky—from the ground. From the rocky terrain at the edge of the city, where the mountains began their climb toward the clouds.
Everyone turned.
A Pokemon stood there.
It was bipedal, roughly four feet tall, with blue and black fur and a cream-colored torso. Long, floppy sensor appendages hung from the back of its head. Its eyes were a brilliant crimson, and they were fixed directly on Kenji with an intensity that made his skin prickle.
A Lucario.
But not just any Lucario.
This Lucario was shiny—its normally blue fur replaced with vibrant yellow, its black markings a deep blue instead. It radiated an aura of power that Kenji could actually see, waves of blue energy pulsing from its body like heat shimmer on a summer road.
And in its paws, it was holding something.
A Pokeball.
Not a regular Pokeball. This one was predominantly black, with yellow bands around the middle and an 'H' pattern on the top half. Sleeker, more advanced, clearly designed for capturing powerful Pokemon.
An Ultra Ball.
The Lucario walked toward Kenji with deliberate steps, its eyes never leaving his face.
"Oh no," Kenji whispered.
"Oh YES," Blue breathed, apparently having accepted that impossible things just happened around Kenji and deciding to enjoy the show.
The Lucario stopped in front of Kenji. Up close, it was even more impressive—muscles visible beneath its fur, a bearing that spoke of incredible combat experience, eyes that seemed to see directly into his soul.
It held out the Ultra Ball.
Kenji didn't move.
The Lucario made a sound—a low, rumbling vocalization that somehow conveyed impatience.
"I already have eight Pokemon," Kenji said. "Eight legendary or near-legendary Pokemon. I'm full. I can't take any more."
The Lucario tilted its head.
Then it reached out with its other paw, grabbed Kenji's wrist, and pressed the Ultra Ball into his palm.
"I'm serious. I don't need another—"
The Lucario stepped back, assumed a formal stance, and bowed.
It was a deep bow, the kind that warriors gave to respected commanders. The kind that indicated absolute loyalty, unconditional service, complete and total commitment.
Then, before Kenji could protest further, the Lucario touched the Ultra Ball and dissolved into red light, willingly entering its new home.
The ball didn't even wobble.
Click.
Nine Pokemon.
Kenji stared at the Ultra Ball in his hand.
"Did that Lucario just recruit itself?" Blue asked, his voice somewhere between awe and hysteria.
"Yes."
"And it brought its own ball?"
"Yes."
"WHERE DID IT GET AN ULTRA BALL?"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
Red, who had been watching the entire exchange with his usual quiet intensity, spoke up. "It was waiting for you."
"What?"
"The Lucario. It was already here when we arrived. I saw it watching from the mountains when we entered the city. It was waiting for the right moment." Red's dark eyes met Kenji's. "It knew you were coming."
Kenji felt a chill run down his spine despite the warm afternoon sun.
"How?" he asked. "How could it know?"
"Maybe it sensed you. Lucario can read auras. Maybe yours is..." Red paused, searching for the right word. "...distinctive."
"Distinctive. Great. My aura is distinctive. That's definitely not ominous at all."
"BI!" Celebi chimed in, apparently agreeing with Red's assessment.
"You're not helping!"
They returned to the Pokemon Center to get Blue's Squirtle healed and to give Kenji a chance to process his newest acquisition.
The Lucario, when released in the relative privacy of the Center's back garden, was exactly as impressive as it had seemed during their first meeting. It stood at attention beside Kenji like a soldier awaiting orders, its crimson eyes constantly scanning for threats.
"So," Kenji said, addressing his newest team member, "you can sense auras. Is that how you found me?"
The Lucario nodded sharply.
"And you want to... serve me? Protect me? Fight for me?"
Another nod.
"Can I ask why?"
The Lucario was silent for a moment. Then it placed one paw over its heart and the other paw over Kenji's heart, closing its eyes in concentration.
Images flooded Kenji's mind.
He saw himself—or rather, he saw his aura, the energy that surrounded his soul. It was unlike anything he had ever seen or imagined. Bright. Impossibly bright. A beacon in a sea of ordinary lights, blazing like a star among candles.
He saw other lights being drawn to him, attracted by his brilliance, unable to resist the pull. Legendary Pokemon and Ultra Beasts and creatures that defied classification, all converging on the same point. All seeking the same source.
He saw the Lucario itself, sensing this beacon from miles away, knowing instantly that this was what it had been waiting for its entire life. A trainer worthy of absolute loyalty. A light worth following into any darkness.
The images faded.
Kenji opened eyes he didn't remember closing.
"That's..." He swallowed hard. "That's what I look like to you? To all of them?"
The Lucario nodded.
"No wonder they keep finding me." Kenji laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I'm literally a lighthouse for legendary Pokemon. There's no hiding. There's no running. They'll always find me."
The Lucario placed a paw on his shoulder—a gesture of comfort, of solidarity.
"LUCA," it said, and somehow Kenji understood: You are not alone.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "I think I needed to hear that."
Evening fell over Pewter City.
Kenji, Red, and Blue had dinner at a small restaurant near the Pokemon Center, eating curry rice and watching the stars appear one by one in the darkening sky. Blue was still riding the high of his battle experience, already planning his training regimen for the rematch with Brock. Red ate in his usual silence, occasionally feeding bits of rice to Pikachu.
Kenji picked at his food, his mind elsewhere.
Nine Pokemon now. Nine impossible partners who had chosen him for reasons he was only beginning to understand. His aura was a beacon, apparently. A lighthouse for legendary creatures. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, they would find him.
Was this what his new life was going to be? Constantly accumulating more and more powerful Pokemon until he had a small army of godlike creatures at his command?
What was he supposed to DO with all of them?
"You're thinking too hard," Red observed.
"What?"
"Your face. It's doing the thing."
"What thing?"
"The 'I'm overthinking everything and making myself miserable' thing. You did it a lot when we first met."
Kenji blinked. "I... didn't realize it was that obvious."
"It's pretty obvious." Red took a sip of his tea. "You can't control what Pokemon come to you. You can only control what you do with them. Focus on that. The rest will work itself out."
"That's surprisingly wise."
"I have my moments."
Blue, who had been eavesdropping while pretending to focus on his food, jumped in. "He's right, you know! Stop worrying about why things are happening and start enjoying that they ARE happening! You've got the most amazing Pokemon team in history! That's AWESOME!"
"It's also terrifying."
"Same thing!"
Kenji couldn't help but smile. These two—his friends, he realized, his actual friends—had a way of making everything seem simpler than it was. Maybe that was what he needed. Not answers to impossible questions, but people who would stand beside him while he figured things out.
"Thanks," he said. "Both of you. For... everything."
"Don't get sappy on us," Blue warned. "We have a reputation to maintain."
"What reputation?"
"The cool rival reputation! The mysterious silent protagonist reputation! We can't be associated with emotional vulnerability!"
Red threw a piece of rice at Blue's head.
They were walking back to the Pokemon Center when it happened.
The temperature dropped.
Not gradually, like the onset of a cold front, but instantly—one moment the evening air was pleasantly cool, the next moment it was freezing, cold enough to see their breath, cold enough to make Kenji's skin prickle with goosebumps.
"What the—" Blue hugged himself, shivering. "Where did this come from?!"
Red's hand went to Pikachu's Pokeball, his eyes scanning the shadows.
The shadows.
They were moving.
Kenji watched, frozen (in more ways than one), as the darkness around them began to coalesce. It pooled like liquid, gathering in the street before them, rising and reshaping itself into something that made his blood run cold.
A figure.
Humanoid, but not human. A body made of shadow and darkness, with a ragged red collar and a face that was mostly empty space except for one visible blue eye. White smoke-like plumes rose from its head, giving it the appearance of something not quite solid, not quite real.
Darkrai.
The Pitch-Black Pokemon. The embodiment of nightmares. A creature so feared that entire regions had legends about its terrible power, its ability to trap victims in endless bad dreams.
It stood in the middle of the street, regarding them with that single blue eye.
"Oh come ON!" Kenji shouted, his voice cracking. "I JUST got the Lucario! It's been like THREE HOURS! Can I not have ONE evening without a legendary Pokemon showing up?!"
Darkrai tilted its head.
Then it laughed.
It was a terrible sound—like wind through dead leaves, like whispers in an empty room, like all the fears you tried to forget coming back at once. It echoed through the empty street, making the shadows dance and the temperature drop even further.
"GREAT," Kenji continued, his fear transmuting into frustration. "It thinks this is FUNNY. The nightmare god thinks my suffering is HILARIOUS."
Darkrai made a sound that was definitely affirmative.
"I hate you. I hate all of you. Every single legendary Pokemon in existence, I hate you."
Darkrai produced a Pokeball from somewhere within its shadowy form—Kenji didn't want to know where it had been keeping it—and held it out with an almost theatrical flourish.
"Let me guess. You want me to catch you."
Darkrai nodded.
"And if I refuse?"
The shadows around them deepened. The cold intensified. Somewhere in the darkness, Kenji could hear whispers—half-formed words, fragments of nightmares, the echoes of bad dreams that Darkrai had inflicted on countless victims over the centuries.
"That's not an answer. That's a threat."
Darkrai shrugged, as if to say "same difference."
Blue had gone very pale. Red's hand was still on Pikachu's ball, but even he seemed to understand that this was beyond them. Beyond any normal trainer. Beyond anything they could fight.
Kenji looked at the Pokeball.
He looked at Darkrai.
He thought about all the legendary Pokemon he had already collected. The Charizard. Ho-Oh. The birds. The Ultra Beasts. Celebi. Lucario. Nine partners. Nine impossible creatures who had chosen him.
What was one more?
What was one more nightmare to add to his collection?
"Fine," he said, snatching the Pokeball from Darkrai's shadowy grasp. "FINE. Get in the ball. Join the team. But I'm warning you right now—if you give me nightmares, I'm making Celebi time-loop you until you apologize."
Darkrai made a sound that might have been amusement or might have been respect.
Then it dissolved into shadow, flowing into the Pokeball like smoke being sucked into a vacuum, and the ball snapped shut with a final, definitive click.
The cold vanished.
The shadows retreated.
The evening returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
Ten Pokemon.
Kenji had ten Pokemon now.
An alpha shiny Charizard, Ho-Oh, Kartana, the legendary bird trio, Guzzlord, Celebi, a shiny Lucario, and now Darkrai.
He looked at the Pokeball in his hand—dark, almost seeming to absorb the light around it—and sighed deeply.
"I need a drink," he said.
"You're ten," Blue pointed out.
"I need a juice box. A very strong juice box."
Back at the Pokemon Center, Kenji released Darkrai in the privacy of his room.
The nightmare Pokemon materialized in the corner, its shadowy form blending with the darkness there, that single blue eye watching him with unreadable intent.
"Okay," Kenji said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Let's get a few things straight."
Darkrai waited.
"First: no nightmares. Not for me, not for my friends, not for random innocent people. If you need to nightmare someone, we'll find appropriate targets. Criminals. Villains. People who actually deserve it."
Darkrai made a considering sound.
"Second: you follow my orders. I know you're a legendary Pokemon with powers I can barely comprehend, but I'm your trainer now. That means something. At least, I think it does."
Darkrai inclined its head slightly—not quite a bow, but an acknowledgment.
"Third: I don't know why you chose me. I don't know why any of you chose me. But I'm going to do my best to be worthy of it. All of you. Including you."
Darkrai was silent for a long moment.
Then it floated closer, reaching out with one shadowy appendage to touch Kenji's forehead.
Kenji flinched, expecting nightmares, expecting terror, expecting the worst that the Pitch-Black Pokemon could offer.
Instead, he got... a memory?
No. Not a memory. A vision.
He saw himself again—his aura, blazing like a star in the darkness. But this time, he saw something else too. He saw the darkness around his light, the shadows that clung to its edges. And he understood.
Darkrai hadn't chosen him despite being a creature of nightmares.
Darkrai had chosen him BECAUSE he was a creature of nightmares.
Because Kenji's aura, bright as it was, had shadows too. The darkness of his old life—the depression, the despair, the slow death of dreams that had consumed his adult years. The nightmare of existence that he had lived through before the vending machine had ended it all.
Darkrai had sensed that darkness. Had recognized it. Had seen in Kenji a kindred spirit—someone who understood what it meant to be trapped in an endless bad dream.
The vision faded.
Kenji opened his eyes.
"You... you understood," he said softly. "The nightmares I lived through. The ones without sleep. The ones that came from just... being alive."
Darkrai nodded.
"And you thought I could understand you too. Your nightmares. Your darkness."
Another nod.
Kenji laughed—a genuine laugh, not bitter, not cynical. Just surprised.
"Well," he said, "I guess we're both a little messed up then. Birds of a feather, or whatever the nightmare equivalent is."
Darkrai made a sound that was almost like laughter.
"Okay. Okay." Kenji held out his hand. "Partners?"
Darkrai considered the offered hand for a moment.
Then it reached out with its own shadowy appendage and touched Kenji's palm.
The cold was still there—it would always be there, probably—but somehow it didn't feel so bad anymore.
Just... familiar.
Like coming home.
Later that night, after Darkrai had retreated to its Pokeball and Kenji had finally managed to fall asleep, he had a dream.
Not a nightmare—Darkrai had apparently taken the "no nightmares for me" rule seriously. Just a dream.
He was standing in that vast space again, the void between dimensions where the cosmic voice had spoken to him before. But this time, he wasn't alone.
His Pokemon were with him.
All ten of them.
The Charizard, massive and magnificent, flames casting shadows across the void. Ho-Oh, radiant and warm, feathers gleaming with inner light. Kartana and the legendary birds, elemental forces given form. Guzzlord, hungry and strange, but loyal now. Celebi, mischievous and ancient, giggling as it wove between them. Lucario, vigilant and strong, eyes fixed on the darkness. And Darkrai, shadow and nightmare, watching over them all.
"Not bad," the cosmic voice said, somehow both everywhere and nowhere at once. "NOT BAD AT ALL."
"I didn't ask for this," Kenji told the void.
"NO ONE ASKS. THEY RECEIVE. THEY ADAPT. THEY GROW."
"Why me? Why not someone better? Someone who actually knows what they're doing?"
The voice was silent for a moment.
"BECAUSE YOU DREAMED," it finally said. "BEFORE YOUR WORLD CRUSHED IT OUT OF YOU. BEFORE ADULTHOOD GROUND YOU DOWN. YOU DREAMED OF ADVENTURE. OF FRIENDSHIP. OF BECOMING SOMETHING MORE THAN WHAT YOU WERE."
Kenji felt tears prickling at his eyes. "That was a long time ago."
"DREAMS DON'T DIE. THEY WAIT. AND WHEN YOU DIED, YOUR DREAMS SAW THEIR CHANCE."
"My dreams... brought me here?"
"YOUR DREAMS. YOUR DESIRES. YOUR DESPERATE, BURIED HOPE THAT LIFE COULD BE BETTER THAN THE SLOW DEATH YOU WERE LIVING."
Kenji was silent.
"YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO BE HERE. BECAUSE SOME PART OF YOU NEVER STOPPED WANTING. AND THAT WANTING CALLED TO THEM."
His Pokemon. The legendaries. The impossible creatures that kept finding him.
"THEY SENSE IT. THE DREAM THAT REFUSES TO DIE. THE HOPE THAT BURNS EVEN IN DARKNESS. THEY COME TO YOU BECAUSE YOU BELIEVE—EVEN NOW, EVEN AFTER EVERYTHING—THAT TOMORROW CAN BE BETTER THAN TODAY."
"I'm just a guy," Kenji whispered. "I'm just some guy who got killed by a vending machine."
"YOU WERE JUST SOME GUY. NOW YOU ARE MORE. NOW YOU ARE A TRAINER. NOW YOU ARE A BEACON. NOW YOU ARE THE DREAMER WHO REFUSED TO STOP DREAMING."
The voice began to fade.
"EMBRACE IT, KENJI. EMBRACE WHAT YOU ARE BECOMING. THE ADVENTURE HAS ONLY BEGUN."
"Wait! I still have questions!"
"YOU ALWAYS WILL. THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT AN ADVENTURE."
The void dissolved.
Kenji woke up.
Morning sunlight streamed through the window of the Pokemon Center.
Kenji sat up slowly, the dream still fresh in his mind. His Pokemon's balls were lined up on the nightstand—ten of them now, ten impossible partners, ten manifestations of the dream he had never truly abandoned.
He thought about what the voice had said.
About dreams that wait. About hope that burns. About becoming something more than what he was.
He had spent his old life waiting for permission. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for someone to tell him it was okay to want things, to dream things, to believe that his existence could be more than the slow march toward death.
No one had ever given him that permission.
No one had ever told him it was okay.
And so he had given up. Let the dreams fade. Let the hope die. Let himself become the hollow, miserable man who would eventually be crushed by a vending machine in a gray, meaningless world.
But now...
Now he had a second chance.
Now he was in a world of wonder, surrounded by creatures of unimaginable power, standing at the beginning of an adventure he had dreamed about since childhood.
And this time, he wasn't going to wait for permission.
This time, he was going to live.
Kenji got out of bed. He gathered his Pokeballs. He looked at himself in the small mirror on the wall—a ten-year-old face with ancient eyes, a child's body housing a man's weary soul.
"Okay," he said to his reflection. "Let's do this."
And then he went to find his friends, ready to face whatever impossible thing the universe would throw at him next.
Downstairs, Red and Blue were already eating breakfast.
Blue looked up as Kenji approached. "There you are! We were starting to worry. Red said you were having some kind of existential moment in your room."
"I was having a revelatory dream about the nature of hope and the power of unfulfilled childhood dreams to transcend death itself."
"...So an existential moment."
"Pretty much."
Kenji sat down, accepting the plate of food that Nurse Joy slid in front of him.
"So what's the plan for today?" Blue asked. "We heading to Mount Moon? Cerulean City? My Squirtle is itching for a rematch with Brock, but I figure some training first—"
"Actually," Kenji interrupted, "I was thinking we could take a day. Just... explore. No Gyms, no training, no legendary Pokemon falling from the sky. Just us, walking around, being friends."
Blue blinked. "That's... surprisingly normal for you."
"I'm trying something new. It's called 'not having an existential crisis for five consecutive minutes.'"
Red smiled his small smile. "Sounds nice."
"Right?" Kenji took a bite of his rice. "Just a normal day. What could possibly go wrong?"
In the mountains above Pewter City, a shape stirred.
It had been sleeping for a very long time. Centuries, perhaps. Or longer. Time was difficult to measure when you existed outside of its normal flow.
But something had woken it.
A light. A beacon. A dream that burned so bright it could be seen from realms that most creatures couldn't even imagine.
The shape rose.
It stretched wings that spanned the horizon.
It opened eyes that contained the birth and death of stars.
And it began to fly toward Pewter City.
Toward the dreamer.
Toward the trainer who had been touched by destiny.
Toward the next impossible addition to an already impossible team.
(Kenji was going to have SUCH a normal day.)
End of Chapter 4