The victory fanfare echoed through Andrew's room as the credits rolled across his television screen. Pokémon Legends: Z-A. Complete.
He leaned back in his gaming chair, controller resting in his lap, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "That was awesome," he murmured to the empty room. Kalos again—but different, transformed. He'd explored every rooftop, every construction site, climbed the ZA Royale ranks from bottom to top. It felt right, coming back to the region where it all started for him. Pokémon X had been his first game, years ago, and now…
Andrew navigated to photo mode, his finger hovering over the button. "Alright, team. Time for the victory shot."
One by one, he brought out his party members on screen, angling the camera to capture each one perfectly.
"Yuto," he said softly, looking at his Emboar—blazing, powerful, loyal. His starter. His first. "You've been with me since the beginning, buddy."
Next came Itachi, his Greninja. Sleek, deadly, the second strongest on his team. The nickname had been obvious—what else would you call a ninja Pokémon?
"Midori." His Venusaur, steady as a mountain, vines ready to protect or strike.
"Izumi." The Gardevoir, elegant and psychic, who'd saved him more times than he could count.
"Rajan." His shiny Ampharos, golden-white wool gleaming like captured lightning. Finding that shiny Mareep had been one of the best moments of the playthrough.
"And Ace." The Pidgeot, swift and fierce, caught as an alpha Pidgey and raised into a powerhouse.
Andrew snapped photo after photo, cycling through poses and backgrounds. Commemorating the journey. The adventure. The bond between trainer and Pokémon, even if it was just pixels and code and—
He glanced at the clock on his phone.
3:07 AM.
"Whoa." Andrew blinked, rubbing his eyes. "I better get to bed."
He saved his photos, powered down the console, and stumbled toward his bedroom. His body felt heavy with exhaustion, but his mind still buzzed with the satisfaction of completion. The soft glow of streetlights filtered through his curtains as he collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to change clothes.
Sleep came quickly.
"We have arrived at Lumiose City."
The voice cut through the fog of unconsciousness—mechanical, neutral, unmistakably an announcement.
Andrew's eyes snapped open.
He wasn't in his bed.
He was sitting upright in a plush seat, the gentle vibration of movement beneath him. Through a window to his right, he could see buildings—tall, elegant, distinctly Kalosian architecture sliding past. The Prism Tower loomed in the distance, its crystalline structure catching the afternoon sun.
"What…" Andrew's voice came out hoarse. His heart hammered against his ribs.
A device buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled for it with shaking hands—not his phone. A Rotom Phone. The screen glowed with a single message, the sender listed simply as "The Creator":
Please protect Lumiose and all Pokémon.
The vehicle—a modern transit car—began to slow. Other passengers stood, gathering bags, chatting in French-accented English. Andrew remained frozen, staring at the message, then at the window, then back at the message.
This wasn't possible. This wasn't real.
The doors hissed open.
"Lumiose Central Station," the voice announced. "Thank you for traveling with us."
People filed out around him. Someone bumped his shoulder. "Excuse me," they muttered.
Andrew stood on autopilot, his legs moving without conscious thought. He stepped off the transit car and onto the platform of Lumiose Central Station—a place he'd seen a hundred times on screen, but never like this. Never with the smell of fresh bread from nearby cafés, never with the warmth of real sunlight on his face, never with the cacophony of actual voices echoing off real stone and metal.
His bag hung from his shoulder—not his usual backpack, but something different. Sturdier. A traveler's pack.
I'm in the game, Andrew thought distantly. I'm actually in Pokémon Legends: Z-A.
He took a shaky breath and looked down at the Rotom Phone again.
The message stared back at him.
"Well," Andrew whispered, his voice steadier than he felt. "I guess it's time."
He shouldered his bag and walked toward the station exit, toward the sprawling streets of Lumiose City, toward whatever came next.
Toward his story.