Al sat on the edge of the Pokémon Center bed, one hand resting beside his PokéNav, the other bracing a notepad against his knee. The screen glowed softly in the dim light, open to the main menu. His eyes flicked across the familiar icons. He tapped twice out of habit—expecting the PC box function.
It wasn’t there.
He scrolled. Checked again. Nothing. Frowning, he opened the system utility menu, expecting an error. There wasn’t one. He keyed into the support logs. A block of text populated the screen:
“Johto League protocol requires stabling for Pokémon not assigned to a trainer’s belt. All non-active Pokémon must be housed in registered care facilities or private stables.”
Below that, a verification query:
“Trainer stable contracts: 0.”
He stared at it. No box system. No offsite storage. Just his six.
Al shut the PokéNav and sat back. Tension crept behind his eyes. He hadn’t thought to check. Not once since waking up in this world. He’d assumed—wrongly—that the mechanics were the same. But this wasn’t a game. There was no buffer, no digital limbo. Only what you could carry with you.
He let that settle. Not long. No point in brooding. Instead, he flipped open his notepad.
Page 1: Accessible Power Systems
- Mega Evolution
- Keystone: Required, location unknown
- Mega Stones: species-specific, not region-tied
Page 2: Not Available
- Z-Moves – Alola region exclusive
- Dynamax / Gigantamax – Galar-locked
- Terastallization – Likely Paldea region
He paused, then started a list beneath the first block.
Possible Candidates:
- Salamence (Mega confirmed)
- Gardevoir (confirmed)
- Manectric (edge case, regional?)
- Swampert (confirmed)
- Metagross (confirmed)
- Breloom (no known Mega)
He wrote a line underneath:
Stones and keystone unknown. Confirm presence in Johto. Determine acquisition method.
He flipped the page.
Page 3: Johto Legendary Pokémon
- Entei / Raikou / Suicune – roaming; uncertain activity
- Lugia – Whirl Islands?
- Ho-Oh – Bell Tower region
- Celebi – Ilex Forest shrine (unconfirmed)
Status: Real. Unscripted. Behavioral unknown.
He paused again, then added: If they’re real, they can be found.
Page 4: Leads
- Ilex Forest – shrine, forest spirits
- Ecruteak – towers, monks
- Route trainers with myth knowledge
- High-tier Gym Leader access (later)
- League archives (locked?)
- Monitor battle forums for rumors
He set the pen down and leaned back in the chair.
After a minute, he stood and retrieved one Poké Ball from the belt rack—Manectric’s. He released him in a quiet flash of light. The electric-type materialized in a half-crouch, sharp eyes scanning the room. Sparks curled faintly along his fur. Al gave him a once-over. Still sharp. Still responsive.
“Good,” Al said simply.
Manectric stepped forward and nudged once against Al’s side. Al reached over and scratched behind one ear, brief and wordless.
Back at the desk, Al flipped open the PokéNav again—this time navigating League articles and archived battle data. He searched for Mega Evolution sightings, battle anomalies, unverified transformations, and regional folklore. Results trickled in.
One caught his eye—a clipped report from three years prior:
“Trainer Claims Pokémon Changed Form Mid-Battle — League Denies Incident.”
Attached was a grainy image of a glowing Salamence mid-air. Distorted, unclear. He tapped through the metadata. Location: Ecruteak, just outside the city. Old tower.
He bookmarked the file. No proof. But it was a start.
As the room dimmed into the night cycle, Al released Gardevoir. She appeared soundlessly, casting a faint light in the room. She didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.
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Al didn’t look at her. Just stared at the PokéNav’s darkened screen.
“Should’ve known the boxes weren’t here,” he said. “Didn’t think to check.”
Gardevoir tilted her head but didn’t pry. He nodded toward the notepad.
“Mega Evolution might be local. If not, we move.”
She just stood beside him until the light faded.
(break)
Al left the Pokémon Center before the sun had fully breached the treetops. The town was still half-asleep, shutters drawn, shop signs swinging gently in the wind. His boots struck the worn stone in even strides. No one called after him. No one stopped him.
That was the way he preferred it.
The Poké Balls on his belt pulsed with faint light—internal recovery nearly complete. Swampert’s was slower.
He reached the edge of Azalea without looking back. The road narrowed into gravel, then dirt. And then, into roots and leaves.
Ilex Forest waited.
(break)
He released Manectric first. The electric-type appeared in a quiet flash, shook himself, and immediately scanned the canopy ahead. Sparks trailed faintly along his tail. Gardevoir followed, calm as ever.
Neither spoke. Al didn’t issue commands. They walked.
The transition wasn’t sudden. Trees thickened gradually until the road seemed to disappear behind them. Shadows lengthened. Birdsong faded. The air cooled—denser, heavier. Not hostile. But watching.
Manectric’s ears twitched, but no threats approached.
They found a small clearing an hour later—half-ringed with mossy stones. Dry. Flat. Good enough for a short rest.
Al sat against a stone and checked his PokéNav. No GPS. No League beacons. He pulled up an old League bulletin from Johto’s research files:
“The shrines of Ilex are rumored to be sensitive to intention. Movement. Silence. Some believe only those who pass through the forest without disruption may witness the deeper paths.”
He stared at it for a moment, then closed the file. He didn’t believe in superstition. But he understood systems. If the forest had one, he’d learn it.
He released Breloom. The fighter appeared mid-hop, sniffed the air, then began pacing the edge of the clearing. Gardevoir moved to mirror him—not sparring. Just movement.
Al observed. Breloom adjusted constantly to the uneven floor. Gardevoir kept an exact distance, always rotating with him.
They didn’t need orders. They adapted to each other.
That was enough.
(break)
By midafternoon, the forest changed.
Al heard rustling—measured, rhythmic. A group of wild Pokémon appeared on the opposite tree line. Aipom. Pidgeotto. Dustox. They didn’t approach. Didn’t flee. Just watched.
The forest was testing him. Not through threat. Just presence.
Al didn’t react. After a moment, he looked away. The wilds could keep their distance. He wasn’t here to claim ground.
That evening, he prepped camp. No fire. Just rations, a thermal mat, and enough cover for dew. He rotated the team—Breloom and Gardevoir returned. Swampert came out, sluggish but stable, crouching low near a stone. No injuries flared. Manectric patrolled slowly.
Night settled. Light fell in layered shadows. Something large moved far off, past the trees—no threat, but the air shifted after it passed.
The next morning, Al rose early. He continued east.
Half a mile into the next stretch, he saw it: stone, covered in ivy, cracked at the base.
A shrine.
He didn’t approach. Just made a note and kept walking.
(break)
The next morning, Al returned to the shrine.
He followed the same route as before, cutting slightly off the main wildlife paths. The forest was damp with early dew, and the air clung to him as he moved—cool, still, and just heavy enough to notice. Drops settled on his sleeves, and condensation beaded on the edge of his PokéNav. He wiped it off with a thumb but didn’t bother turning it on.
Gardevoir moved silently at his side. Manectric trailed behind, ears flicking with each shift in the leaves, but neither of them made a sound. They passed no wild Pokémon. No trainers. Just trees. Just that lingering pressure, like the woods were waiting to see what he would do.
When they reached the shrine again, the clearing felt smaller. Nothing had changed physically, but the space pressed in differently now—more focused. Like it recognized him.
The shrine itself was no more than a cracked stone arch, barely waist-high, overgrown with ivy and rooted so deeply that even the forest had shaped itself around it. No inscriptions. No League tags. Just presence.
Al stepped forward without a word. He rested a hand on Manectric’s ball. The Pokémon tensed, low growl barely audible. Al glanced back—Manectric’s eyes were fixed on the shrine. Alert, not fearful. Al gave a nod. “Stay.”
He approached alone.
The moss underfoot was warm—not sun-warmed, but insulated, like it had retained heat overnight. Gardevoir floated just behind him, posture neutral, eyes steady.
Al stopped in front of the arch, stared at it a long moment, then knelt and touched the base of the stone.
It was rough, weathered, cold beneath the surface warmth. As his fingers settled against it, the wind stilled. The forest fell silent. No birds. No motion. Even the filtered sunlight dimmed slightly, the shadows forming a soft ring around the shrine.
Al didn’t move. The air pressed in around him, not heavy but deliberate. Present.
He wasn’t under threat.
But he wasn’t alone.
After a few seconds, he withdrew his hand. The silence lingered, then slowly lifted. The breeze returned. Leaves rustled again. Gardevoir stepped back—not defensively, but with subtle focus, like she was watching something unseen.
Al crouched again, opened his pack, and removed a small ration bar. He unwrapped it halfway and placed it on the moss at the foot of the arch. Not as an offering of belief—just a marker. Respect. Acknowledgment.
The moss beneath it rippled slightly, like disturbed water.
He didn’t react. Just stood, gave the shrine one last glance, and turned to go.
His boot clicked against something small under the moss. He paused, crouched, and brushed it aside to reveal a small, seed-shaped object. Veined with green crystal and streaked with faint copper, it was cool to the touch and lighter than it looked. Not a stone. Not a berry.
He turned it in his fingers once.
No glow. No pulse. But it didn’t feel inert.
Without a word, he slipped it into a side pocket.
Gardevoir joined him as he left.
The shrine remained behind them—unchanged.
But as they moved, the forest felt different. Not colder. Not darker. Just… aware.
(break)
That evening, Al stood at the edge of another clearing. The sunlight was fading, the canopy tinted gold. Long shadows cut across the moss. He recalled Breloom with a short command. Across the clearing, a Nuzleaf that had mirrored him earlier stood and echoed the motion, then stilled.
It didn’t follow.
Al didn’t acknowledge it.
He packed the mat, tightened the straps on his bag, and gave Manectric a glance. The electric-type rose smoothly and fell into step as they departed.
They left the space quietly, without disturbing the wilds. The trees didn’t shift behind them, but the tension returned—less welcoming now, more distant. The moment had passed, and the forest had resumed its boundaries.
He didn’t look back.
Tomorrow, they’d reach the edge of Ilex.
It would be time to reenter the world again.