"Urghh..."
In the middle of a deserted beach, a pained groan could be heard mingling with the sound of the waves. This place looked like paradise, a beautiful painting, completely untouched by signs of human life. Of course, except for the one who had just groaned.
Lying on the sand at the shoreline was a young boy who looked to be around eleven or twelve years old. Sunburns spread across his youthful face, which already hinted that he would grow into a handsome man. The wind blew through his strangely colored hair, a blend between light and dark blue.
"Urghhh!" the boy groaned in pain, furrowing his brows as his eyes tightened, almost as if he were on the verge of waking up.
"Shit!" he cursed as he opened his eyes. The sun's glare irritated him, forcing him to shield them with his hand. Slowly adapting, he blinked several times before fully opening his eyes again.
Glancing around, he didn't recognize where he was. Panic rising, he shot up into a sitting position, only to be overwhelmed by pain.
"Fuck! What the hell!?"
Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and began to carefully observe his surroundings. He could feel the sand slipping through his fingers. As he inhaled again, he smelled the sea breeze.
Beyond the shore stretched a dense, tropical-looking forest. Strange sounds drifted from the trees, and above, birds flew across the sky, though he couldn't identify them, both because of the distance and because his eyes hadn't fully adjusted.
Closer to the sea were scattered fragments of what once seemed to be a small caravel. The most prominent piece was the figurehead, which appeared to have once been the ship's bow, and what drew his attention was a striking sculpture.
It was a carving of a massive sea serpent with its mouth wide open, fearsome to behold, sculpted from red wood. Its fierce eyes seemed to hold a nearly visible rage, as if it were alive.
The boy's legs trembled, but he managed to stand.
Staggering forward, he made his way to the figurehead. Reaching out with his right hand, he gently caressed the sculpture. Feeling the texture of the wood with his fingertips, he murmured in confusion.
"Shiny Gyarados..."
Still baffled, he turned to look at the ocean, just as a sudden headache struck.
"Ahhhh..."
He cried out, clutching his head.
Out of nowhere, two waves of memories slammed into him.
First came his real memories. His name was Arthur, Arthur Lewyn. A high school student and an avid RPG gamer.
He remembered everything clearly, especially his love for the Pokémon franchise. He had played every game, even the card game. He had followed Pokémon throughout his entire childhood, and it had been part of many happy memories for him.
Recalling those moments brought a cheerful smile to Arthur's lips, until he froze at a particular memory.
Arthur remembered... he had died.
It had been a normal afternoon. After school, he said goodbye to his friends and decided to stop by a trusted local store to buy booster packs from the new set Journey Together. After buying a box, he left with a smile, put on his headphones, and decided to take a shortcut through a park. Unable to resist his curiosity, he pulled out a pack and started to open it.
Near the end of the park, with his music blasting and all his attention on the booster in his hands, he didn't hear people shouting at him.
Flipping through the cards, Arthur saw it, N's Zoroark, one of the cards he wanted the most. After all, the Master of Illusions had always been one of his favorite Pokémon.
He remembered the joy of pulling it, but even more vividly, he remembered the pain that followed. Because he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings and couldn't hear the shouts over his music, he didn't notice a runaway truck barreling toward him.
With a violent impact, his body was sent flying.
At that moment, for Arthur, the world seemed to slow down, as if he were watching everything in slow motion. He saw it all, people screaming, a man looking away from the accident, old Mrs. Jenkins holding her head with a worried expression, and even the young children walking home from school, terrified by what they had just witnessed.
So… this is what it's like to die?
Arthur wondered as his body was thrown through the air by the impact.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his cards scattering across the ground, and with his gaze fixed on the familiar Poké Ball design printed on the back of them, he couldn't help thinking:
It would be amazing to see that world with my own eyes… even just once.
Then came the darkness.
And he woke up on that beach, thirsty, aching all over.
"How strange…" Brushing the hair stuck to his forehead aside, he noticed its color.
"This isn't my hair," he murmured, trying to understand why it had changed. After all, he used to have light brown hair. Then Arthur remembered, he had died. So this must be reincarnation, which explained his current situation. This clearly wasn't his old body.
And considering that Shiny Gyarados as a figurehead… this must be the Pokémon world.
Combined with the second wave of memories, this confirmed his suspicion.
The previous owner of this body had been na orphan from old Johto, also named Art. A poor child who struggled just to survive, until, with great effort, he saved up enough to buy some fishing gear and build a small raft, so he could fish in the sea near his tiny coastal village, which belonged to the Kingdom of Crysna. According to this boy's memories, Crysna was a seaside realm located where Olivine City would one day stand. Art had successfully fished there a few times, earning enough money to fill his belly.
One day, while fishing, he noticed a red ship approaching. He ignored it at first and began rowing away from its course. But when he looked up again, he realized that the ship had changed direction and was now heading straight toward him. Becoming wary, Art squinted and focused on the approaching vessel, entirely made from red wood, giving it a blood-soaked appearance. At its bow stood a carving of a massive beast, one Art had seen a few times while fishing. Whenever he spotted such a creature, he immediately abandoned his plans for the day.
The great and fearsome Gyarados, as the older fishermen of the village called it. Whenever one was near the coast, nobody dared to go into the water, they meant certain destruction for their small boats. As poor fishermen, they did not possess Monsters capable of defending them from those brutal sea beasts. Only knights and nobles had access to such Monsters, not something that could be found in a tiny fishing village tucked away in a remote corner of Crysna.
The more he stared at the ship, the more terrified Art became. His fear doubled when he saw the tattered flag flapping on the mast, a faded black banner with a white skull of some Pokémon painted on it. Each sway of that ominous flag seemed to carry a dark aura, making Art's bones tremble. He knew exactly what it meant, everyone in the village did: a black flag meant chaos, destruction, and loss. It meant pirates had arrived.
They were a menace the Kingdom of Crysna, being a coastal realm, had tried countless times to wipe out. But like na infectious disease, in these dangerous times, some always survived and spread again, forming new crews after a while.
Art had always dreamed of taming one of the sea Monsters he sometimes saw. The greatest sailors of the kingdom all had one at their side. That was his dream, to tame a sea monster and become a sailor, to explore the world, discover new places and cultures, like those traveling merchants who occasionally visited his village.
All those dreams and desires vanished from Art's mind the moment he saw the pirate ship. What remained was pure survival instinct. He stabbed his fishing rod into the raft, grabbed his oar, and began rowing for his life, desperately hoping to escape.
It didn't work.
The pirate ship caught up to him. He was captured and thrown into one of the ship's cells. From what he overheard, the pirates planned to sell him as a slave in some distant region. Art wanted to fight and look for a chance to escape, but he couldn't, these pirates had Monsters with them. Art had seen at least fifteen pirates, and out of those, four owned Monsters, including the captain.
Of the four Monsters he saw, one was just a gigantic red shadow moving beneath the surface of the sea, never fully revealing itself as Art was dragged into the ship. Another was a slender bird, mostly white, with blue markings on its wings and tail tip, and a long orange-and-black beak. It circled above the ship, hunting, either for itself or for the pirates to plunder.
The other two Monsters were of the same species, strange, dancing plant-creatures, only as tall as young children, wearing some kind of plant-shaped hat Art didn't recognize. From his cell, he could hear the pirates playing music and yelling at them to keep dancing. This went on for many nights as the ship sailed through open waters.
And Art could feel it... he was getting farther and farther from his homeland.
But that wasn't the worst part.
When they were nearing their destination, the Hoenn continent, they entered waters they should never have approached, and ran into a whole pack of the same species as the Monster whose figurehead decorated their ship: the Blood Gyarados.
A school of Gyarados.
Every sailor knows that this is a death sentence for any ship. Art watched through a crack in his cell wall, the same crack he used to pass the time, as chaos unfolded outside.
The captain and his fellow Monster-tamers tried to fight the enraged Gyarados, which were furious that humans had trespassed into their new territory. They managed to hold out for a while, with the captain acting as the main force and the others supporting him. Huge waves rocked the ship as both sides exchanged powerful attacks. Some attacks even struck the vessel itself, as the wild Gyarados mistook it for a rival trying to invade their territory.
It was na intense battle, according to Art's memories. The captain's red Gyarados took on two at once, unleashing what Arthur recognized as Hydro Pump, blasting one in the face and throwing it back.
A fierce melee broke out between the three Gyarados, until reinforcements arrived, and the red Gyarados was surrounded by four enemies. Even so, it stood its ground, rage blazing in its eyes as it protected the ship under its captain's commands.
But the captain couldn't save the ship. Surrounded by the wild pack, the vessel was ripped apart. As it sank in pieces, the captain and a few surviving crew members climbed onto the back of the red Gyarados and fled, chased by the remaining wild Gyarados who were still battle-worthy.
Art's body was dragged ashore by the tides... and that's when Arthur reincarnated inside it.
Walking a bit closer to the sea, he spotted a clear pool of water caught between some rocks as the tide receded. Leaning over, Arthur gazed at his new reflection in the rippling surface.
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