Hoenn Region, Route 112
May, Aspiring Trainer
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," May muttered, tugging her bandanna tighter as the wind picked up.
Route 112 wasn't exactly scenic not unless you were the kind of person who liked dust in your teeth and volcanic rock in your boots.
The path snaked along the lower ridges of Mt. Chimney. To the north, a jagged ropeway line cut across the sky, heading up toward the volcano's summit. To the west, the entrance to the Fiery Path loomed like a furnace mouth. She had no plans to go spelunking through there today.
Not when Meteor Falls was her next big destination.
She'd been on the move for days. After earning her third Gym badge, it was like the world opened up all at once.
One moment she was celebrating, the next she was knee-deep in Battle Tower warmups, chasing rumors of ancient fossils in the desert, and because apparently her life wasn't chaotic enough rescuing a kidnapped Skitty from a suspiciously polite mailman with way too many Wurmple.
Her bag still smelled like sandstorm and stale Pokéblocks.
Just as she adjusted the strap on her shoulder, her PokéNav buzzed in her pocket. Again.
"Ugh, if this is another Versus Seeker trainer…"
She flicked it open and groaned under her breath. Ever since she enabled that rematch feature, her PokéNav had been blowing up non-stop. Challenging people over and over sounded great in theory until you started getting calls mid-meal, mid-battle, mid-bath.
Wally Calling…
May blinked. Then grinned.
"Well, that's different."
She tapped Accept.
"Wally! What's up?"
The screen lit up with Wally's face. Calm, composed as always. He was indoors somewhere, soft lighting casting a mellow glow behind him. A shadow flickered at the edge of the frame-probably Rotom, pretending not to eavesdrop.
"Hey," he said, voice dry but warm. "Still alive?"
"Surprisingly, yeah," May grinned. "Barely made it out of the desert alive, though. I think I've got sand in places sand should never be."
"That sounds like a hassle," Wally chuckled.
May laughed, brushing a strand of wind-tangled hair from her face. "So, you callin' to check in on me? Or do you need a favor?"
"Both," Wally said, perfectly straight-faced. "Also, are you close to Meteor Falls yet?"
"Just hit the trail. Why?"
There was a pause. Wally leaned forward slightly, his expression tightening.
"There's going to be trouble there," he said. "I need you to talk to the League and the local police. You've got history with them."
May blinked. "Wait! What kind of trouble?"
"Team Aqua. Or Team Magma. Maybe both. I don't know which one gets there first."
Her stomach dropped. The breeze suddenly felt colder.
"…How do you know that?"
Wally tilted his head. "I know the future."
She stared.
"…You're kidding."
"No."
"You're kidding."
"I'm really not."
The trail was quiet. Far off, she could just barely hear the distant splash of a waterfall. But inside, her thoughts moved fast.
Wally had predicted her starter would be Ralts before they'd even reconnected. He'd known about the malfunction at the power plant before they ever stepped inside. And now this?
Her fingers tightened on the PokéNav.
"…You're serious."
"As serious as I can be."
May didn't answer right away.
She'd always been close to the League-not just because of her father, Petalburg's Gym Leader, but also because of the recent incidents. She had been somehow stumbling upon the two gangs, foiling their plans time and time again. From Devon-Corp to Slateport.
It had been happening so often that some league members even called her second coming of Ethan. So. while it wasn't official, but when trouble came knocking, the League did tend to pick up her calls.
Wally must've known that too.
He gave her a small, patient smile. "I know it sounds strange. I don't expect you to fully believe me. But you trust me, don't you?"
May swallowed hard. Then nodded. "Yeah. I do."
"Good." He leaned back, visibly relieved. "Then talk to them. Warn them. Be ready. And…"
He hesitated.
"...Don't be reckless. Take care of yourself. I mean it."
May raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "Aww. Didn't know you cared that much."
"I do."
That stopped her short. There was no hesitation in his voice - just quiet conviction.
The call ended. The screen faded to black.
May stood still, the wind tugging gently at her scarf. Wally's words echoed in her mind, warmer than they should've been.
Somehow, impossibly he knew.
And he cared.
She let out a long breath, then pulled out a Poké Ball. Her Combusken's capsule felt solid in her palm.
"He wants me to be careful," she murmured, a faint smile curling at her lips. "But sorry, Wally. That's never really been my thing."
She looked up at the looming cliffs ahead, her eyes fierce with resolve.
"If Team Aqua or Magma are moving… then I'll be the one to stop them."
With that, May stepped forward into the shadows of Meteor Falls.
...
Hollow Halo
Shedinja
Shedinja did not remember being born. Or rather, it remembered being left behind.
There had once been claws. Scratching. Digging. Climbing. A warm rock beneath a twilight sky. A familiar shell. Then a shimmer. A fracture. A sloughing of skin.
And it was empty.
No breath. No blood. No heartbeat.
Only stillness.
And yet… it saw.
It saw without eyes. It heard without ears. It felt without nerves. It hovered.
Nothing should have been there. And yet - it was.
Shedinja did not hunger. It did not sleep. It merely was.
It remembered something that used to twitch - Nincada. But that name no longer fit. Names were for the living.
Then came the boy.
He did not scream. He did not recoil.
He saw Shedinja-not as a mistake. Not as a husk. He knelt, like greeting an old friend rather than a phantom. His Kirlia watched with the same quiet stillness. They knew.
He knew.
You should not exist, the world whispered.
And yet, the boy reached out a hand.
Shedinja did not flinch. It could not.
The Poké Ball clicked, and the shell was claimed.
Not sealed. Not trapped. Carried.
Most trainers feared what they didn't understand. Most Pokémon fled from the cold presence that trailed behind Shedinja like a shadow.
But not him.
He let it float behind him. Not ahead. Not beside. Always behind.
He never commanded it in battle. Not yet. But each night, as the others slumbered in tents or bubbles of soft breath, Shedinja perched on a branch. Watching. Waiting.
And the boy would glance up from his journal and nod. Nothing more.
That was enough.
Shedinja did not feel emotion.
But something stirred, when Rotom chattered at it, crackling like a faulty bulb. When Feebas flicked her tail toward it with hesitant curiosity. When Roselia left a blossom at the foot of its branch and said nothing. When Kirlia turned to it, not with fear, but with something like familiarity.
The team didn't speak to Shedinja. But they made space.
That was more than most.
Later, beneath a silver moon, the boy sat by the fire, the Poké Ball resting beside him.
"You're not like the others," he said aloud. "You're something old. Something fair. Something forgotten."
He tapped the ball gently, as if it could hear through the shell.
"There's a fairy tale," he murmured, "about a man who lost his shadow. But it didn't vanish. It lived a life of its own."
The wind stirred the trees. Kirlia and the others slept nearby.
The boy smiled faintly.
"From now on, I'll call you Shadow."
...
"Deus Ex Machina."
He had whispered those words once.
Shedinja did not know gods. Or machines. It knew the hollow. It knew the after.
But it knew this too:
One day, the boy would call upon it. Not in glory. Not in panic. But in the moment when no one else could act.
And when that moment came, when the battle turned cold, and hope frayed - Shedinja would drift forward, silent but unwavering.
It did not need purpose. But it had one now.
A shadow on his path. A second life in reserve.
Until then, it hovered. Empty. Watching. Waiting.
Whole in its hollowness.
And yet, somehow…
Not alone.
...
Thanks for reading~