| May POV |
Professor Oak finishes scribbling on his clipboard for what must be the hundredth time today. I'm not sure if he's taking notes or just drawing increasingly angry doodles of Lucario-shaped nuclear incidents.
He straightens his back, clears his throat, and adjusts his glasses in that "I'm about to drop a lore bomb" kind of way.
"Now, based on our research so far," Oak begins, "this so-called X-energy appears to originate from outside our known dimensional frameworks. It's corrosive to standard Pokémon biology, often warping physiology beyond repair… or worse."
He taps the screen behind him.
A chart appears. And by chart, I mean a terrifying list of Pokémon that all look like they belong in a horror game DLC.
"We think that Pokémon native to this 'Xenoverse' seem to have adapted to it," he continues. "Some even evolve through exposure. But for our species, the results have been… disastrous."
Birch chimes in, still sipping coffee like it's a lifeline. "We ran scans on the ring that Rio gave us. The artifact leaks a steady stream of X-energy, acting almost like your standard mega stone — and from what we managed to piece together, her evolution into a Xenoversal state was likely incomplete. And unstable. Probably due to the new environment."
"And yet," Oak adds, glancing at Rio, who is currently trying to balance a juice pouch on his nose while Kirlia menacingly wields the clicker, "he appears completely unaffected."
"That's because I'm build diffrent," Rio says proudly.
Zap.
"Because I'm cursed in all the right ways," he amends.
Birch mutters, "We've classified your energy as a hybrid between Ghost and Psychic signatures. It responds to emotional flux and external stimuli, almost like a living metaphysical circuit." He sighs. "Whatever it is, it shouldn't exist. But somehow, it works."
"Welcome to my life," May groans.
Oak claps his hands together. "Alright. Now that we all understand what we're facing here. Let's check on the Treecko."
We exchange glances.
Hopefully nothing outrageous happens...
The hallway to Treecko's chamber is unusually quiet. Less guards, less barriers. Not because it's safe — no, it's more like… respectful silence. The kind you give to a sleeping predator. Or a ghost.
Birch swipes his ID and the door glides open with a hiss.
Inside?
Grovyle.
Not Treecko.
Not even close.
She sits on the center pedestal, cross-legged and eerily still. The once-green leaves that adorned her arms and tail are gone — replaced with flickering wisps of ghostly purple fire that dance with every breath she takes. Her scales shimmer with a muted green and shadowy violet, like an aurora filtered through smoke.
Her eyes open slowly as we step in.
No aggression.
No confusion.
Just… clarity.
"Huh," Rio whispers behind me. "She's… chill."
"She's stable," Birch breathes, almost in disbelief. "Vitals are strong. X-energy levels normalized. No sign of corruption."
"That's impossible," Rowan mutters, staring at the monitor. "Every other subject mutated or broke down. How is she—"
"You can ask our resident pinky over here," Oak intervenes. "From what professor Kukui managed to piece together, a new variable was introduced, a counter force that served to guide her evolution."
Grovyle's eyes land on Rio.
She tilts her head.
Then nods.
No words. No movement.
Just quiet recognition.
"… Uh, hello? Been a while since we last met." Rio mutters, cocking his head.
Grovyle's mouth quirks up.
Barely.
The room chills just slightly.
And in that moment, I realize—
This isn't Brendan's Pokémon anymore.
This is someone else entirely.
| Rio POV |
I've stared down war gods, eldritch dragons, and once got headbutted by a Togepi on a sugar high. None of that prepared me for this.
She's… calm.
Grovyle just sits there, surrounded by the faint flicker of violet fire, radiating a sort of quiet control that makes even Kirlia pause. That's saying something, considering she nearly glassed a room an hour ago out of emotional instability and lap-based envy.
The door hisses closed behind us. The others—Oak, Birch, May, the usual peanut gallery—start discussing stability levels and theoretical resonance patterns or whatever.
I don't really hear them.
Because Grovyle's eyes lock on mine.
And she nods.
It's not hostile. Not grateful either. It's just… knowing.
So, obviously, I break containment again. Not the glass this time. Just the polite little invisible line the professors like to pretend I can't cross. My cursed energy bypassing the hundred layers of protection they set up as I suddenly appear inside the glass case.
I sit down across from her. Cross-legged. Mirroring.
The fire on her tail flickers.
Still silent.
"…So," I start. "Purple ghost fire, huh? That a new trend, or should I be concerned?"
Her mouth twitches upward. Barely. A breath of amusement, maybe. Her claws flex against the pedestal.
"I'm not… like the others," she says, voice low. Hollow but not empty. "Not anymore."
"I figured," I say. "Most Pokémon don't smoulder aesthetically."
"IF YOU DONT COUNT RAPIDASH!" Why is he awake...
"I though I took out the batteries...."
Rotom apparently found this to be the perfect moment to start flying around the lab and connect himself to every port he can see.
"SO MUCH DATA! :D"
"He's.... Lively..."
I sigh and go back to doing what I do best, ignoring the problems that aren't mine to deal with.
Silence stretches between us. The ghost fire crackles.
"So... You come here often?" I ask trying to act nonchalant.
She exhales. Not quite a laugh.
"Oh, yes, I've been inside a glass box surrounded by a hundred scientists many times before."
My ears twitch. "Really?"
"That was a jo— Never mind... Yes, it's my first time here."
She glances to the side. The flames dim a little.
"Is Brendan here?"
"Who?" I tilt my head.
"Brendan, my trainer, he is a close friend of yours no?"
"OH THAT BRENDAN! Nah, haven't seen him since the last time he got his ass kicked by his dad."
"Ugh, don't remind me, facing that Slaking was hell..."
Grovyle goes quiet.
Her claws tighten on the edge of the pedestal. The ghost fire wreathing her arms dims to embers.
"...After that battle," she says, voice brittle, "he stopped talking to me."
I blink.
"He just… handed me the stone one day. Said it was the only way I'd 'become strong enough.' Then he walked off." Her eyes narrow. "He met with someone shady that night. I saw them give him something else too. He didn't know I was watching."
The pit in my stomach swirls.
"And you kept the stone?" I ask softly.
"I didn't want to," she mutters. "But I thought maybe… maybe if I got stronger, he'd come back."
The fire surges again, licking up her arms.
"Instead I woke up alone. In a cave. My body wasn't mine anymore."
...
I pause.
Then sigh.
"Yup. Sounds about right."
She blinks at me.
"You'd be surprised how common that is with people who sign suspicious deals. First it's 'power,' then it's 'abandoned in a pit with emotional damage and glowing fire limbs.'"
She huffs. Half a laugh.
Then her gaze softens as she looks back at me. "But you came."
"Well," I scratch the back of my head. "Technically I thought you were a boss fight at first with all the corrupted energy stuff. Kinda charged in with, y'know, murder energy. But we're cool now."
Another small smile.
Then silence, easy this time.
Word Count: 1232
Man, already talking to other girls with Kirlia still pissed off?
MC: SHIT I FORGOT!
Yeah, he's donezoes.