Author's Note: Welcome! This is my first serious, long-term fanfiction project, though I do have outside writing experience. I'm looking forward to the journey ahead, and I hope this story proves worthwhile enough for you to join me. My aim in writing this was to bring to life a version of the animé where the plot actually progresses towards something and character growth occurs without getting wiped clean in every season and movie. I feel bad for Ash – he has invested his heart into pokémon training, and he far outdoes any of us when it comes to being a good sport about his losses – but because the franchise demands a never-ending story, he will never be given a taste of lasting competency or success. That being said, I'll attempt to make Ash smart but not overpowered, and the story mature but not edgy.

Two things I should mention before we begin. First, the starting age for trainers has been increased to fifteen, to allow for the possibility of romance without involving children. This is somewhat canonical, seeing as since at least Black and White the main trainers in the games have been older than ten. Second, although this fic incorporates elements from the latest generations of Pokémon, a knowledge of Gen 3 (Hoenn) is really all you have to be familiar with.

Now, enjoy your read, and please let me know what you think!

THE MORTAL EARTH

Chapter One: The Stranger

The ocean liner plowed away from the coast of Kanto and slowly accelerated into the Pacifica Ocean, bound for the southeast. Its prow sliced for deeper waters, its wake sent great waves curling towards the horizon, and flecks of salt spattered the proud letters on its hull: S.S. Cactus. White smoke poured from its three stacks, smearing the crystal blue sky.

A solitary passenger known as Ash leaned against the rail and watched the side of the ship cut through the waves. Dark strands fell into his eyes as the wind tangled his normally spiked hair; his frown was pensive as he turned back toward the vanishing shore.

It was hard to believe Kanto would soon be nothing more than a memory. He would miss Gary, miss the days they had spent together while home-schooled by the old professor, even miss the roars of the Nidoking and other raucous sounds of Oak's ranch. He would miss Professor Oak too. The old man had been a mentor to him, had made him realize that achieving his dreams would be impossible without applying himself to his studies. In his last weeks in Pallet, Oak had been tougher on him than ever – at first, Ash had thought of it as an unfair punishment for leaving, but by the time he hugged the old man farewell, he had known it was Oak's way of ensuring he was ready. He was certainly confident in his world geography now.

He glanced down at the pokéball in his hand. Fondly, he rubbed the silver inscription on the rim of its upper half: To Ash on his 15th birthday, Pallet, Kanto. He remembered meeting Gary's eyes, wondering if the pokéball was the same one they had fought over and split in half when they were ten, and Gary nodding before he could even form the words to ask. "Your mother gave me your half," he had said. "You're leaving, so I thought … not everything needs to be kept apart."

A hairy hand landed on his shoulder, jolting Ash out of his thoughts. "Ash, my boy! We're now on our way to the bluest waters and greenest jungles on Earth! I don't know about you, but I'm brimming with anticipation, and I've made this voyage countless times."

Ash looked up into the captain's twinkling blue eyes, curious on a man that was scarred, pockmarked, and weather-beaten from a laborious life sailing the world's seas. "Hi, Captain Samasa," he said. His mother had introduced him to the captain when she saw him off at port, right after she hugged him and promised to meet him at their new house – he was still salty that he had been given a cut-rate ticket to travel on the same ship as their furniture, while his mother would be flying first class in a month. "I'm looking forward to seeing Hoenn outside photographs. We've still got a lot of ocean to cross though, sir."

The captain waved his hand dismissively. "A mere five weeks of sailing if the weather favors us. You've never been to Hoenn, lad?"

"I've never been to Johto before, let alone the other side of the world." Ash hesitated. A wave slapped the hull, sending up an unexpected spray over both of them. "To be completely honest, I don't know how I feel about moving so far away."

"It's difficult for someone your age to uproot themselves. Still, I'd urge you to see the silver lining." Captain Samasa paused and eyed Ash. "I take it you want to be a trainer, judging by the pokéball in your hand?"

Ash brought the pokéball up against his chest. "I don't just want to be a trainer – I'm going to be a master."

"Ah, that takes me back to old times," the captain said. He leaned on the rail next to Ash. "I was a trainer myself for a few months before I realized I wasn't cut out for it. Every new trainer thinks they're prepared to face the Hoenn wilderness, but they're not. No one truly can be. Many species deep in the jungle are territorial, malaria is common, and the long sea routes make drowning a risk even for experienced trainers. And don't get me started on the madmen now up on the volcano, calling themselves a militia." He shook his head. "It certainly hasn't become any safer since I was a trainer."

Ash stared at him; he couldn't help it. "Is this supposed to make me feel better about moving there?"

The lines around the captain's eyes crinkled as he gave Ash a sideward glance, smiling. "You didn't let me get to the good part. Because the environment is so harsh, Hoenn hasn't been as thoroughly explored as most regions. There are many rare species of pokémon, which I'm sure an upcoming trainer such as yourself will want to take advantage of. Trainers have been discovering new species too – a few years ago, a lass discovered a pokémon called Shedinja and used it to sweep the Ever Grande Conference."

"I remember that," Ash said, blinking. He had never been the type to judge a pokémon by the rarity of its species, but he couldn't deny the appeal of raising a pokémon the world had never seen before. New species necessitated new strategies and techniques – both fighting against them and raising them would be invaluable in becoming a master battler. "I'm glad moving to a backwater region won't get in the way of my goal, at the very least."

"At the very least? You need to put more heart into it if you want to be a halfway decent trainer, lad! I've seen Metapod with more enthusiasm."

"Hey!" Ash grinned despite himself. "That's rich, coming from you, quitter!"

Captain Samasa chuckled, and together they settled into a comfortable silence. For a time, they stood without speaking, watching the Wingull wheel and the white-flecked waves, until at last the captain turned to him.

"Why don't you take your mind off things by coming with me?" he said. "I can introduce you to the sailors – and the Marill we have as our mascot."

Hesitant, Ash stared out at the glittering ocean without saying a word. He could see the snow-capped peak of Mt. Silver across the water, visible only as a white giant rising out of the sea. The mountain was so distant now that it was vanishing moment by moment; Ash wondered how long it would be until Kanto was swallowed whole by the blue.

The warmth of midday bent to the will of the open ocean, stirring a chill wind that crept under Ash's skin. He shivered and followed the captain, turning away from the shore.

Kanto remained on the horizon, Mt. Silver sinking like the prow of a wrecked ship, disappearing gradually into the sea.

~O~

The S.S. Cactus's crew and passengers were polite to Ash, and a coordinator aboard sometimes let him watch her training sessions, but the days dragged on ad nauseam as the ship steamed its way to the tropics. The ocean was flat and constant over the weeks of travel, but halfway through the voyage the wind became less biting; Ash had to squint in the sun's intensity when he ventured out of his cabin.

Islands soon began to appear as distant masses on the horizon, and the water lapping against the ocean liner took on a turquoise hue. Wingull became a familiar sight now that land was once more on the horizon, and Ash would whittle away time by watching Pelipper scoop up fish in their beaks. His thoughts would often drift into daydreams about the islands. According to Captain Samasa, some of the ones on the port side of the ship were part of Alola. Alola – Kanto was thousands of miles away by now. A sailor pointed out a school of little Wishiwashi to Ash and let him toss bread crumbs into the sea to watch them swarm.

Then one afternoon the ship set course for an Alolan port. As they approached a white mega-complex hunched on the water, Ash realized they would not be stopping at the capital city of Hau'oli like he was expecting, but at an artificial island. He squinted past the sun's glare and saw a massive white dock bobbing in the waves, miles long, beneath lines of glassy windows and a curvature that made the mega-complex resemble a hundred-eyed bug rising out of the ocean. He had the impression that this location was not open to the public.

As the gangway went down with a boom, Ash saw that there was a crowd thronging on the dock. The Alolans were shouting and squabbling in a language strange to his ears. He heard a howl – deep, throaty, eerie, unlike any pokémon cry he had heard before. The crowd parted; for an instant, he saw a masked pokémon rear up on its hind legs to knock a woman into the waves. Ash rushed to the gangway to get a better view. The remaining Alolans mobbed the pokémon.

The pokémon's green eyes flashed beneath the darkness of its mask; its black fur glistened in the midday sun. It was a monstrosity, the crest of its mask standing taller than a full grown man. Its tail was like a fin, though it lacked the sleek beauty of most water-types. No, it was savagely beautiful – its clawed forelegs were sharp and spiked, and Ash imagined they were easily capable of tearing a man to ribbons. A pokémon with a wild, chimeric physique that matched its ferocious spirit.

Once again the pokémon howled and lunged at its captors. Four ropes led from the spokes on the pokémon's mask, and twelve men were attempting to pull the pokémon toward the gangway. It was going aboard the ship! Ash saw a balding man in a white coat giving directions. In his hand, he held a stun baton, similar to the type Ash had seen on police officers. The man walked behind the pokémon and struck the baton on its hindquarters. The pokémon bolted so quick it rammed one of the men holding a rope; down the man fell and went still. The pokémon snorted, tossing its head in contempt as the remaining men screamed and kicked at it. They almost had it up the gangway. Ash wondered where it would go once they brought it aboard.

Then he spotted Captain Samasa waving his arms, pointing and shouting for the men to drag the pokémon toward the stern-side cargo deck. Ash followed at a safe distance. Now he saw the crude cage into which they were attempting to force the pokémon – it was clearly a shipping container, except steel bars had been installed where its front was ripped out. The ocean liner had no accommodation for transporting pokémon; the invention of pokéballs had made such considerations unnecessary, outside of unlicensed trades and the black market.

Roughly five minutes later they had the pokémon in front of the shipping container. The balding man again hit the pokémon on its hindquarters, and it rushed inside. Ash thought the container would break under its fury. The pokémon rammed into the steel bars; thunder rumbled under its paws; its eerie, piercing howl vibrated through the deck. He averted his eyes from the sight, ashamed to witness the pokémon being imprisoned in a cage, something he had only ever seen in anti-Rocket public awareness commercials. Steel chips cracked from the bars, splintering through the air, as the pokémon rammed them again. He swallowed nervously.

Captain Samasa was quarreling with the balding man, snarled words drowned out amid the howls. Ash wondered why the captain had agreed to ship such an aggressive pokémon. With an emphatic gesture that Ash suspected to be an Alolan obscenity, the balding man yanked a mobile phone from his pocket, glared at the captain, and hovered his finger over the dial key threateningly. Captain Samasa shuddered, then glanced at the caged pokémon; he slumped his shoulders, shook his head, and walked away. The balding man gathered the Alolans who had brought the pokémon aboard, and they all filed down the gangway.

Soon the ocean liner was back underway. Ash returned to the rail and stared at the receding dock. A crowd was gathered around the still woman they had fished out of the waves; laid out beside her, the man that had been struck head-on was equally unmoving. The balding man had vanished into the mega-complex. Was the person he had threatened to call cloistered inside? Ash knew he could ask Captain Samasa, but he had a sense the man wouldn't answer.

He turned to the makeshift cage. Captain Samasa had gone back to the bridge, and only a cluster of chattering passengers were standing near the shipping container. The pokémon was still ramming the container from inside.

The days that followed were restless ones for Ash, the other passengers, and the crew. He had never seen a pokémon so relentless, or with such ragged determination. The ship reverberated long into the night from the blows the pokémon made into the shipping container. The sailors' Machoke dragged other shipping containers against its sides as reinforcements.

The ocean liner steamed past the islands and into the Central Pacifica Ocean.

Come nightfall Ash crept out onto the deck, leaving the rest of the passengers to their drunken gambling. He listened past the whistling wind. The pokémon was silent for once. Scanning the deck to ensure the way was clear, he hurried in the direction of its shipping container. Under the faint light of the moon he could see nothing but grey shapes. But as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he recognized the massive form of the pokémon, which had its head pressed against the bars.

Ash edged his way closer to it; his fingers closed around the hondew berry in his pocket. He was upwind of the pokémon, and its peripheral vision must have been blocked by its mask, considering it hadn't spotted him yet. He was mere steps away now. The pokémon was looking out onto the dark sea, its body quivering, its black fur glistening in the moonlight. Ash could not turn his eyes away.

He stood there for what felt like a long time, caught in a spell, the kind that settled over him in the quiet depths of night. Wondered what the pokémon was thinking as it gazed upon the silver flicker of the waves. Did it have a home it was leaving behind? A reason it fought so fiercely? But as the ocean liner made a slow arc across the water, the nighttime breeze shifted, lightly urging him towards the shipping container. With resignation, Ash realized he was now downwind of the pokémon. It would detect his scent before long. He took another step.

The pokémon turned and fixed its glowing green eyes upon him. Its claws flashed as it moved. Once more, it rammed the steel bars, its eerie howl echoing in the night, the bars rattling in place. Ash flinched but did not move, instead watching as the pokémon backed into the darkness of the shipping container, hackles raised. He listened to its growls impassively.

Until, at last, the pokémon's growls quieted to a faint rumble. Ash sucked in a breath. Whispered, "Hello."

The pokémon's growls deepened but it did not lunge to attack the bars again. He took the chance to kneel down and nestle the hondew berry on the other side of the cage bars. "I brought you something," he said. "I hope you like it; I nicked it from a trainer that never locks his cabin."

He retreated a few steps from the shipping container. Waited. He heard a snuffle as the pokémon sniffed at the berry from the other side of the cage. A keening cry rose from its throat, and slowly Ash realized that as strange and distorted as the sound was, it was an expression of weariness. The pokémon did not move towards the berry.

A nagging sense that he had committed some transgression, brought the pokémon back into a struggle of which it had grown weary, crept over him. "Have you … been refusing to eat?"

The pokémon gave no answer, just watched Ash with those green eyes.

Ash was reminded of Professor Oak's Charizard, a creature of radiant magnificence, a lord of the skies. He had seen that pokémon behave similarly – snapping at Ash and all the aides that attempted to feed or even approach him, lashing his tail if he was in a temper, torching any offerings meant to appease. Only Professor Oak could temper the fierce pride that burned in the dragon's soul. Ash should have guessed the caged pokémon would have a similar mentality, having seen the sailors carrying bleeding chunks of meat out to the pokémon each night while he sat at dinner, always returning with seemingly the same amount of meat they had left with. Before, he had assumed the pokémon had preferred sweeter fare such as berries. Now he understood.

It was, as it was with Oak's Charizard, a matter of pride. The pokémon would not eat from the hands of another. Not from its captors. Not from strangers like Ash. It was a pokémon that would sooner break than demean itself. As pointless and self-destructive and mad as it would seem to most humans, it needed to take meals of its own accord, not be given them. Pride was in its nature.

Pride was all it had.

Ash retrieved the hondew berry. "I'll return tomorrow," he promised. He turned on his heel and went back his cabin as the pokémon's cry rose into its familiar, eerie howl. Every night from then on, Ash would forgo dinner to sit beside the cage and silently accompany the pokémon in its fast; sometimes he would sense the pokémon watching him and other times he would only hear the boom of its body being thrown against metal.

~O~

The ocean liner continued south, past the Dragonbone Caldera that comprised the northernmost edge of the Hundred Islands. Ash had mostly hidden himself in his cabin as the ship made its way past the Dragonbone Caldera, despite his curiosity – when he had stepped outside, billowing black plumes burned his nose and eyes, and the stink of sulfuric gases hung in a miasma around him. An older passenger had told him that the caldera was the crest of the first volcano in the world, with an ancient dragon slumbering in its magma, but since Ash was unable to see past the black smoke no matter how much he squinted, he had no way of verifying the truth of that tale. Now they were sailing under blue skies again, and in a few days, Captain Samasa told Ash, they would arrive at the heart of the Hundred Islands – Hoenn.

Ash wondered why the Alolan pokémon was being shipped to Hoenn – perhaps for research, perhaps for a wealthy collector. He had asked trainers and older travelers at the nightly round of board games if they recognized what kind of pokémon it was, but no one seemed to know. Captain Samasa frowned at the mere mention of the pokémon, but after days of persistent questioning, he had grudgingly admitted to Ash that the balding man had once referred to the pokémon as Type: Null.

That night Ash made his customary trip to the shipping container, this time carrying a steaming black pot and a bowl that he balanced atop it. The night was hot and still. Heavy clouds blacked out the stars, and in the distance long cracks of lightning splintered across the sky. Type: Null had its head pressed against the steel bars. Again it was looking out to sea, its body quivering more than ever. It turned, growled as it saw Ash, then again faced the water.

Ash grinned – it was the first time Type: Null hadn't rushed the bars at the sight of him. He sat on the deck beside the cage, his usual spot, and set the black pot next to him. His stomach growled at the scent wafting from it. Type: Null turned and eyed the pot suspiciously – again it growled, but softer this time.

"Are you wondering why I brought this pot here?" Ash asked. He set aside the bowl and settled his hand on the pot's lid. "I was hoping you'd allow me a favor."

He breathed a sigh of relief as the Type: Null did not howl or rush the steel bars, but instead scraped its menacing claws against the floor of the shipping container. It was a better result than he'd expected.

"I've been fasting with you for a while," Ash continued. "But we humans burn out quick when we don't take care of ourselves. I can't handle it as well as you do." He lifted the pot's lid and a cloud of steam curled out, clearing to reveal the orange broth of fish stew, flecked with cilantro. Poured himself a bowl and angled the pot to slide it between the cage bars. He was glad the pokémon didn't take the opportunity to rip his arm off. "But at the same time, I don't want to back out of my commitment to fast alongside you. So why don't we break this fast together? You can consider the meal a favor to me, not rations for a prisoner or pity from a stranger."

Type: Null considered the fish stew, then Ash. For a long moment they both were still. Slowly, it bent its head and began to lap up the stew. Hands shaking, Ash downed his own bowl but didn't taste any of it in his elation. He watched the pokémon lick away the last of the orange broth and whispered thanks as it retreated to the shadows of its cage. Stood there for a time, in the heavy night, thinking. Then, as rain began drum against the deck, he left for his cabin.

The shriek of scraping metal awakened him in the middle of the night. Ash blinked and sat up in bed. Seconds later, the ocean liner lurched steeply and he was thrown to the floor. He had no time to cry out in alarm. He sat still in the darkness, now fully awake with his nerves ablaze, listening. Outside the storm howled and wind gusts ran their claws against his porthole window. Bur underneath the ocean's rage, Ash thought he could hear shouting.

He pushed himself off the ground and flipped the light switch – it was dead. A flicker of lightning illuminated the cabin. The top of his dresser had been swept clean and the floor was strewn with broken glass. Hastily he pulled a shirt over his bare chest and laced up his sneakers; his inside-out pajama bottoms were not ideal but would have to suffice. He started for the door, then stopped as he spotted Gary's pokéball rolling across the floor. He picked it up and slipped it in his pocket. Better to keep it close.

He opened the door and, stumbling through the dim hall, found his way up to the deck. The tearing winds drove him back against the wall as the ship lurched. Heart pounding, Ash grabbed onto the slippery safety rail and peered out into the dark.

The ocean's surface was black as ink. It churned and frothed in violent surges, glittering as it reflected stabs of lightning from above. The air was alive with electricity; the storm boomed, and Ash could feel the rattling vibrations in his bones. Sheets of rain fell, soaking his shirt, cold enough to steal his breath. He heard the shouts of Captain Samasa and the crew faintly above the roar of the rain, watched as shadow people rushed across the deck. A huge wave rose out of the swell and swept over the ship. When it had passed, a handful of the shadowed figures were gone. He closed his eyes.

The scream of metal added its voice to the chaos again. Ash opened his eyes, afraid to look but more afraid to do nothing. Impossibly, another ship had rammed against the ocean liner.

The shadowy mass of the ship loomed in the bitter rain like the hunched form of a gargantuan monster. Rain slid off her spars and rigging, sheeting down her plated flanks and leaving her armored sides gleaming in the flashes of lightning. The banner of the Aqua Armada flew bold from both dorsal and ventral masts, two white stripes on a field of indigo, with a white Sharpedo snarling between them. Across her prow was painted in blue: Sapphire Desperado.

Staring at her, Ash felt his breath catch. The Sapphire Desperado was a ship of legend, sailed by the notorious criminal known as Admiral Archie. He was not well-versed with his Hoenn politics, but he knew that Admiral Archie commanded a paramilitary of sea terrorists that gave nightmares to sailors and pirates alike.

Even with the small band of trainers aboard, the ocean liner was an easy mark. No longer able to tell if he was shivering or trembling, Ash raised his face to the storm clouds and inhaled sharply, trying not to panic.

Howling jolted Ash back to the immediate reality. Type: Null! The pokémon was alone, trapped in the gloom of its cage. No one would come for it; it would be left to the mercy of the Aqua Armada. He imagined the criminals would kill Type: Null or attempt to break it into their service – which would have the same result in the end. He couldn't let it come to that. He touched his fingertips to the pokéball in his pocket; if he hid the pokémon inside it, he had a chance of keeping it out of the criminals' grasp. This was something he could do. It was better than trembling in the rain, waiting for death to arrive.

Slowly, Ash released his hold on the safety rail and edged toward the stern-side cargo deck, hidden in the shadow of the Sapphire Desperado. He kept half his attention on the ocean, ready to dive for the nearest handhold if another wave swept over the ship. Wave after wave tossed the two ships as Ash made his approach, trembling the ocean liner, careening it on its side, yet somehow the ocean did not swallow it. For his part, Ash made it across the deck without sliding into the ocean, falling onto the metal bars of Type: Null's cage with relief. He took a deep breath. At this point he wasn't sure if he was exhilarated he was still alive or exhausted with terror.

Type: Null loomed over him on the other side of the bars, staring down at Ash, its pupils blown with panic. Suddenly it growled and plunged straight at the bars, crashing its head against them. Ash backed away and held up his hands.

"Easy there!" he shouted, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the rain. "I need you to listen! The ship's being boarded by the Aqua Armada, and we don't have much time to get you out."

Type: Null raised its head and remained still. It did not growl or howl or lunge at him. Ash assumed that meant it was listening.

He continued in a rush. "I don't have the key to your cage, but we need to leave before the Aqua operatives come for us. I'm sorry, but this is our only option." He held up the pokéball. "I know asking this of you is tremendous, so I'll tell you something: I've come back here every night because I want to be your friend – nothing more, nothing less. Do me a favor and don't choose to die here tonight."

Ash fell silent and raised his eyes to meet Type: Null's gaze. He felt small under its weight. While the pokémon assessed him, Ash stared into the dark holes of its mask, at the eyes staring back at him from within. After what felt like an eternity shivering in the rain, with the nerve-wracking possibility of Aqua operatives appearing out of the darkness at any moment, Type: Null lowered his head.

Fingers trembling, Ash enlarged the pokéball and lifted it to the cage bars. Type: Null padded up to the pokéball and paused before it for a heartbeat, uncertain.

Then it closed the distance, and with a flash of a red light and a click, Type: Null vanished.

Ash exhaled sharply, staring at the pokéball with disbelief. He scanned the storm-lashed deck to ensure no one had seen him, then slipped the pokéball under the waistband of his pajamas and into the inside-out pocket. If he could find a crew member, perhaps he could be involved in whatever evacuation plan or offensive was underway.

He was edging his way back across the deck when a bolt of electricity arced from the Sapphire Desperado. For a split second he wondered what sort of electric-type pokémon the Aqua Armada had in its arsenal; then came a violent crack and the ocean liner shuddered. Ash was knocked to the deck, stunned. Slowly he returned from unconsciousness. He was lying on his stomach; despite the weeping rain, his face felt gooey and inflamed. He wiped his face and withdrew his sleeve covered in blood. Then he became aware of feet hurrying around him. The passengers, shouting and sobbing, were streaming past him. The ocean liner itself was silent, its engines dead.

Ash struggled to his feet. Dizzy and disoriented, he made his way along the deck. His blurred senses took in the scene before him. Shadowed men were rappelling onto the deck from the Sapphire Desperado. They were being boarded! Strange, that he felt so calm with the end in sight. The ocean liner's crew was readying the lifeboats, and Captain Samasa was there shouting directions. One lifeboat was already plunging through the ocean. A looming wave crashed over it and dragged it under; in the span of a lightning flicker, its passengers were swallowed by the sea.

The next lifeboat was being loaded, but hysterical passengers surged past Ash and clawed at each other for a seat. The old gentleman that had told him about the Dragonbone Caldera was shoved off the lifeboat and plummeted into the ocean. Ash snarled and started forward, but Captain Samasa noticed and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's too late, Ash" he said, shaking his head. "Wait with me for the next one."

As they watched the second lifeboat rappel into the sea, Ash glanced back to monitor the Aqua Armada's approach.

Three trainers had rushed to fight the crew of the Sapphire Desperado. Before they could release their pokémon, a dark shape flitted through the rain, slicing forward then upward in a fluid motion, knocking the pokéballs from their hands. In the next moment all three trainers were knocked to the ground themselves. An Aqua operative loomed over them, unsheathing his cutlass. Ash looked away.

The third lifeboat was still not prepared to lower. Time had run out to evacuate.

Admiral Archie appeared out of the darkness like a ghost.

Ash froze. The admiral stood alone in the rain, a specter of evil with blue Gyarados tattoos running the length of his arms and twining up his neck. His pale blue eyes stared at the passengers huddled on the deck. Ash's instincts screamed at him to run, but at the sight of the admiral he was frozen with horror and could not think.

Three Mightyena slunk out of the darkness behind him. Their muscled bodies pushed through the crowds, silencing people with their presence. Their scarred faces stared at the people with contempt, their noses twitching for a scent, their scraggly black fur oily in the rain, their yellow eyes watching hungrily. After weeks aboard the ocean liner, Ash had forgotten how malicious pokémon could be, but now, as these dark beasts moved through the crowd, fear reminded him.

"It's him," Captain Samasa said. There was a tightness in his jaw. "This really is the end of the line."

The admiral whistled. It was high-pitched, fading in and out of the storm's howl.

Snarls echoed in the dark, and then the Mightyena were all moving. Fast. Faster than any human could ever move. The Mightyena dove for a sailor, snarling. One of them flew back, thrown by the strength of a man faced with death, but the others crunched the sailor's limbs between their jaws. Blood sprayed the air, an arc of black fluid glistening in a flash of lightning. Ash searched for a weapon, fumbling for the pokéball in his pocket, anything –

Captain Samasa grabbed him and dragged him to the back of the crowd. "Ash! You can't help him!" he said. "You have to run!"

Ash looked back desperately, fighting the captain's pull. "But – "

The crowd roiled where the Mightyena snarled and slaughtered. Ash heard the screams and sobbing blended with the wail of the storm. The crowd obscured what was happening, but suddenly a man next to Ash collapsed, a line of black blood oozing down his throat. A winged pokémon fought the buffeting winds for a heartbeat before vanishing back into the crowd. People screamed and stampeded in all directions. The captain yanked his arm. "Go on! They're too strong and too many! You can't help!"

Ash stared at where the sailor had been pinned down in the Mightyena's first attack. He heard a hurricane of wind wails, snarling, sobbing, begging, before a single scream rose above it all. A primal, animal scream.

Hating himself, Ash shuddered then fled, slipping and swerving through the crowd.

~O~

Ash huddled behind a shipping container, watching the storm rage over the ocean. Rain slid in rivulets down his body; weighed down by wetness, his soaked clothes hung off him. His eyes were red but he was too drained to cry. Arceus, he was tired. He wondered if Captain Samasa had been ripped to shreds by Mightyena. If the Aqua Armada was hunting them down one by one in a gory rendition of hide and seek. He wondered if they enjoyed it.

He would be lying to himself if he thought they wouldn't find him. He was going to get mauled. His heart would stop beating, and then his brain would die. Ash took in a shuddery breath. What could he do? Revealing Type: Null would only delay the inevitable, and Ash had no desire to offer up his new companion as a meaningless sacrifice. No, Type: Null's best shot at survival was to remain hidden inside its pokéball until the day it was recovered with Ash's body or the ocean –

Ash's heart beat faster.

The ocean liner had been less than a day out from Hoenn before all this. He could chance the waves instead of the mightyena. But that would mean diving into the ocean from the deck and risking drowning. Dangerous. He would be no better off than the unlucky men swept from the ship by the storm.

You'll die anyway. No one here can save you.

That was the real truth. He could hide on the ship for a time, getting more and more tired, but eventually the Aqua operatives would find him and he'd be killed.

He was dead already. It was a strangely liberating thought. He really had nothing to lose.

Ash slowly climbed over the rail, staring down into the dark ocean below, scanning for some floating piece of debris or maybe even a life ring from one of the overturned lifeboats he could cling to. But the swell of the roaring white waves revealed nothing. He landed his feet on the rim of metal on the other side of the rail, a ledge that he let himself rest at for a moment, trying to still his trembling fingers. The ledge felt like a paradise compared to what waited for him down below.

You can stay here, he thought. You can wait for Aqua to leave. They won't have the patience to hunt down all the people that escaped. You can wait it out.

He killed the hope. Maybe they wouldn't find him. Probably, though, he'd be sniffed out by a Mightyena, and even if he jumped off then and there, he was sure that they'd release their Sharpedo on him. He was on his own. Ash balanced on the ledge, on the edge of decision.

He dove.

~O~

The cold hit him like a punch to the gut.

Ash gasped –

– and then he was sinking. He thrashed in the surf and spat the water he had swallowed. He had already plunged several feet. Swim, you bastard! He kicked upwards with all the strength he could muster.

He kept sinking. The storm-lashed waves sucked him deeper into the ocean, into the cold calm of a liquid tomb. He clawed for the surface, but no matter how hard he fought, the current forced him deeper.

He was a good swimmer. He had grown up next to the ocean, had never worried about drowning, even in heavy surf. But now he was sinking like a stone. His hand brushed something solid – it had the rough outline of a cage in the watery gloom. A Krabby trap? He grabbed for it, hoping it still had a rope attached to it, tying it to a buoy on the surface.

His sinking stopped. His fingers quested for the rope, relief surging through him when he felt a slick and slimy knot. He began hauling himself back out of the depths. His lungs screamed for air. Gold and blue and red pulses filled his vision. He kicked faster, dragging himself higher up the rope, knot by knot. He fought the urge to breathe, to give up and fill his lungs with water. It would be so easy –

He came out of the ocean like a Wailmer surfacing, water sheeting off his face. Sucked air. Salt water burned his lungs, but he could breathe. He freed a hand from the rope to rub his eyes, clearing the water away. He opened them to an intense stinging and burning. Tears filled his eyes. He blinked rapidly.

Blackness all around. Pitch blackness and mountainous waves.

He was treading water next to a buoy, a shadowy mass nearly indistinguishable from its surroundings. He never would have seen it if his head had not surfaced inches away. With a gasp, Ash hauled himself up onto the buoy's metal platform. He had never been so damn grateful for Krabby.

He breathed in and out until his heartbeat was level, staring in disbelief at the metal platform he had collapsed on. The waves tossed the buoy, sometimes making his stomach drop as the platform fell away from him, but Ash hadn't felt so safe since he had last fallen asleep on the ocean liner.

Still, this safety was temporary. If he waited here dehydration would kill him – he couldn't imagine this buoy was checked daily. He didn't relish swimming once the storm had calmed either, since chances were exhaustion would get him long before he saw shore, and he'd sink again, his lungs filling with water, thrashing and gurgling –

Focus, you idiot.

He had made his choice when he dove off the ocean liner. Now it was literally sink or swim.

Involuntarily, his fingers slipped into his pocket, curling around the pokéball nestled there. He ached for company. But could he trust the fierce pokémon? He wasn't sure he could keep his composure if Type: Null swam off, or worse. At the thought he let out a hollow, choked laugh. Like it or not, he needed to take risks if he was going to make it through the night. There were no safe options left.

Shivering, he fumbled for the release mechanism and watched as red light coalesced into Type: Null.

The masked canine yelped as it was plunged into the waves. It caught sight of Ash atop the buoy and scrabbled out of the water like a massive bull Dewgong, for an alarming moment tilting their refuge on a precarious incline. Glowering at Ash, it shook itself off, spraying water on him, before curling into a ball in the center of the platform. Type: Null dwarfed him, barely fitting onto the buoy even curled up. Gingerly, Ash settled against the curve of its body, nestled between its hind legs and head. It softly growled in response but let him stay.

Ash could barely bring himself to breathe. He reached a hand up to rest on Type: Null's flank. "Hey there," he whispered.

Type: Null snarled and knocked his hand away with the crest of its mask, grazing his arm. Pinpricks of blood welled up beneath reddening skin.

The pain brought Ash back to his senses. "I'm on your side!" he said. "I'm on your side, damn you. Don't attack me anymore."

Type: Null growled again.

Ash sighed. "I'm angry too," he said finally, staring at the baleful lightning reflecting across the water. "The Aqua Armada took almost everything I own. They killed my friends and they killed the man that probably saved my life earlier tonight. I don't know who made you this way, but right about now we probably feel the same. Do you understand, you great beast? They took my friends from me. You're angry? Look at the ship. Everyone dead there was angry too." He pointed to a dark protrusion on the horizon that he assumed was the ocean liner. "To Aqua, we were nothing more than prey for their Mightyena." Type: Null nearly bit his hand off, but Ash pulled it back in time. "Okay. No more pointing for now."

Ash wiped the rain off his face. "Those men in Alola imprisoned you," he said to the pokémon. "The Aqua Armada would have killed us or done the same. Now we have a choice. You have a choice; I've already upheld my end. We can be a team and fight this together – and that means you have to stop the snarling and the biting – or we can die alone."

Ash stood up. Type: Null started growling and tensed its muscles.

"It's time to choose," Ash said over the growls. "I'm going to jump into the water. You can stay there and I'll drown swimming to shore, and if you live no one will be on your side when your former captors come hunting. Or you can carry me. Neither of us can escape from our situations alone, but if you help me, we can protect each other and we might – we might be better off than we ever were before."

Type: Null stopped growling, but it gave no other sign that it understood his words. Ash wasn't sure what sign he was hoping for.

He tore off his shoes and waited until the next wave rolled under the buoy, then dove with it, letting the force carry him forward. He bobbed like a fish. Ash prayed that lightning wouldn't strike nearby – even if staying on the metal buoy would do nothing to make him safer – and swam with the waves.

The ocean swallowed him in the churn and roar. Every time he kicked, the cuts and bruises he had collected over the night exploded in pain. He paddled frantically to stay above the surface. Waves sucked him down. He flailed, struggling to find air. Clawed at foam and broke the surface gasping. Another wave sucked him down. He was dragged with the current. He fought again to free himself from the ravenous depths and came up coughing and sputtering.

He heard a bark nearby and blinked the salt out of his eyes. Type: Null was riding the waves beside him. A wave curled over the pokémon and it dipped under and came up again, swimming with strong paddles. Type: Null barked at him again. And then the pokémon was up beside him, supporting him. Helping him swim.

He was surprised when Type: Null let him clamber onto its back, and then they were swirling forward and the waves were all around and he could see a pattern to them. Now, suddenly, the current was on their side, pushing them forward, urging them toward the Hoenn coast hidden beyond the horizon.

Laughing, he clung tightly to Type: Null's neck. "I'm glad to have you on my side," he shouted over the storm. A delirious lightness washed over him. "Does that mean – would you be okay being my starter?"

Type: Null paused, considering, then rumbled in agreement. Ash felt the vibration coarse through his body. It was … comforting, to have such a large pokémon with him. He smiled. "Thank you."

He took a deep breath, trying to settle the strange mixture of adrenaline, creeping exhaustion, and butterflies in his stomach. He rested his forehead against Type: Null's mask. A thought popped in his head. "Hey, since you're going to be my starter, do you mind if I ask what gender you are, or which one you prefer if you don't have one? I don't want to refer to you as an 'it.'"

Type: Null snorted at the question, still swimming.

A wave of embarrassment rushed over Ash as he realized that Type: Null couldn't give an open-ended answer. "It's been a long night, okay? Bark once for male or bark twice for female, or laugh at me again if there's still something I'm doing wrong."

Type: Null barked once for male, and Ash grinned. The lashing rain felt less cold in friendly company.

They rode the current for a long time, but exactly how long Ash couldn't have known. Time ceased to have meaning in the heavy gloom of the storm. The two passed the time – or at least Ash passed the time and Type: Null endured it with a long-suffering patience – by going over a potential list of names for Type: Null. The pokémon flatly rejected the "cute" names Ash at first gravitated towards and after some deliberation settled on Oblivion.

Eventually, the storm lightened and Ash managed to doze off by threading his arms around the spokes of Oblivion's mask. The sleep was in nodding shifts that broke off at abrupt moments when Oblivion jerked forward, or slammed Ash's head against his mask by slowing down, but Ash was grateful he was alive and able to sleep again at all.

What could have been minutes or hours after Ash last nodded off, Oblivion broke from the current and paddled into gentle waves. Blearily, Ash's eyes opened. Stinging salt and scalding sun. A mirror bright sun, almost white with intensity. Water lapped around them, crystal clear. His arms ached and he slowly unwrapped himself from the mask's spokes.

Oblivion barked and nudged him with his neck. Blinking, Ash looked ahead to where Oblivion seemed to be indicating and saw a beach. White sand dotted with towels and sun umbrellas and swarming humans. Palm trees poking out from the jungle. It was land; the final proof that he wasn't going to drown. Criminals, storms, and miles of ocean and they were alive. Ash started to laugh.

"I'm alive!" he screamed. And then he was whooping, feeling a tidal surge of triumph and fading terror, high on blue skies and glittering waves. He clambered onto Oblivion's mask to better see the shore and the faces of the people staring at him.

Oblivion swam for the beach, Ash still laughing as he clung to his mask. Waves caught them and pushed them to shore. He realized they'd been lucky. They easily could have washed ashore on an uninhabited beach, or worse, an uninhabited island.

He crawled off Oblivion's back and stood. His legs were weak from so long in the ocean, but he felt like he was immortal. He laughed madly at the surfers and the trainers and the small children and the hundred of other beach-goers, all of them staring speechless.

"I'm alive!" he shouted again. "Screw the Aqua Armada! I'm alive!"

The crowd murmured at the mention of the Aqua Armada, but no one spoke up. Ash faltered. Something about the way they stared told him to look down.

Sea foam curled around his ankles, shells and bits of seaweed. And intermixed with it all, his blood. Soaking his shirt and pajamas, running down his feet in red rivulets, staining the water with the beating of his heart.

~O~

"You're mad," the nurse told a half-naked Ash as he sat on the examination table. "It's a mystery how you survived."

Ash was so tired he barely felt her pokes and prods, but he gave her his brightest grin. "Come on, you're really going to question my survival tactics after I've proven they work?"

The nurse rolled her eyes and handed him a pile of clothes. Ash looked down at them: he saw a clean pair of boxers, jeans, and a black t-shirt with a Pikachu on the front. "If just one of your many rash decisions had gone south, you would have washed into shore as a corpse." The nurse regarded him seriously. "You're lucky. The world shapers were watching out for you today.

Ash shook his head. "They clearly weren't watching closely; otherwise I wouldn't have had to jump off a ship to escape criminals in the first place." He held up the t-shirt and winced as his stitches pulled. "Where did these clothes come from?"

"A local supplied them. People saw you and your pokémon emerge from the waves, claiming to have survived an attack by the Aqua Armada. No one gets luck like that – people flock to it."

Ash prodded his stitches, running his fingers over the seams that now sutured his flesh. "It feels much better. Thanks for helping me."

The nurse looked up, her dark brown eyes studying him. "Don't thank me until it's certain you've avoided an infection," she said wryly.

"Is that something I should worry about?"

The nurse shrugged. "You took a lot of cuts from ocean debris, and possibly a Krabby trap, based on what you told me. There's no telling how dirty they were. Still, you're young and healthy. You have a good chance of recovering without complications."

He made a joke of it. "It's a much better gamble than some others I've taken lately."

She didn't smile. "Take it easy in the coming days. If you catch a fever or the pain increases, call a doctor. And one more thing: don't be surprised if a League official knocks on your door in a few days. You've already talked to city officials, but the League likes to hear things for themselves."

Ash made a face, but he nodded at the nurse's grave expression. Watching as she departed from the room, he set his feet on the floor, then pulled on the Pikachu shirt and the other clothes. It felt good to be in dry clothing. There was no belt, so he slipped Oblivion's pokéball in his pocket, silently promising to let his newfound companion out to roam soon. He straightened and made his way out of the clinic, standing in the middle of the street so that he could see the beach.

Even at night, the shoreline glowed with activity, people swimming in the bay by torchlight. Palm trees showed as black shadows against the starry surge of the Milky Way above. The torches flickered in the salt fresh breeze, dancing to the trilling insects of the immense jungle that fringed Petalburg. Laughter rang across the water. It was beautiful.

Before almost dying, Ash wouldn't have known it. He would have been caught in his own head, thinking of Pallet and what was gone. But now that he was a survivor, Petalburg was the most breathtaking sight, better than anything he could have imagined. He couldn't stop staring at it all, couldn't stop grinning at the people kicking a ball in the sand, at the fires where people cooked perch they'd hooked in the surf, at the tremolo of jazz and the clamor of drinking from nearby bars. It was beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as the pokéball that held Oblivion. Ash could hardly believe the strange pokémon was now his comrade-in-arms, that out of a crisis they had arisen alive and together. He attributed it to extraordinary luck, but from the nurse's initial reaction to his survival, he knew that where he saw luck, followers of the old ways saw divinity.

"It's the world shapers," the nurse had whispered. "They've taken you now. No knowing what they'll do with you." She had stared at him with a face shadowed in sorrow. He had meant to ask her to explain, but the doctor arrived and dispelled the moment.

It was nothing. Had to be. As much as people prayed to them, no evidence of the world shapers existed, just old cave murals and stories embellished across generations.

"Hey, hey!" A girl waved at him from a fire on the beach, laughter hidden in her bright eyes. She was dressed in a red tank-top bathing suit, dark hair tied back and dripping sea water. The droplets on her bare skin shone in the firelight. "Aren't you the guy who washed ashore this afternoon?"

Ash blinked. Word traveled fast … or perhaps not, considering he had arrived in front of hundreds of beach-goers. "My name's Ash. I hope I'm not the talk of the town."

The girl giggled. "You've captured all of our attentions, sadly. Come on over! I'm sure you're hungry after that swim of yours."

Ash tramped through the sand, bathing in the warmth of the fire as he stopped next to the girl. She clasped his hand, smiling slightly as they shook. "I'm May. The other two you see huddled around the fire are Wally and Brendan. Try to excuse Brendan for being a hat-obsessed idiot."

May indicated two young men that looked about the same age as her. The paler boy, dressed in a loose button-down and jeans despite hanging out on the beach, hunched under Ash's gaze. The other was well-tanned and in swim trunks, though Ash noted with puzzlement that he was also wearing an askew white hat that matched his lopsided grin. He had a dripping surfboard tucked under his arm.

Hat-boy, which Ash surmised was Brendan, plopped his surfboard on the sand and gave him a wave. "Can't say I've met someone that rode a four-legged pokémon out of the sea while bedecked in glorious pajamas before, but I'm happy to put a face to the legend."

Wally flushed and looked at the ground. "St-stop. You'll embarrass him."

"I'm sure our friend here could use a little levity after spending the afternoon being stitched back together." Brendan slapped Ash on the back. "Here." He handed Ash a bottle.

"What's this?" Ash asked.

Brendan shrugged. "Coconut vodka. Who cares as long as we can get drunk off of it?"

Ash smiled and sipped, though he had no intention of getting drunk with a group of strangers. He was surprised at the sweet tang of the drink that burned in his mouth.

May laughed. "Never had it before, huh? It's definitely more of a local thing." She leaned close. "Wally lifted this bottle from his father's shelf. The guy just skipped out of the house in full view of his family, and they didn't even notice! He's so shy in conversations that no one ever suspects him to have a brazen side."

"It's n-not that big of a deal," Wally mumbled. "It'll be legal for us to drink when we get our trainer licenses s-soon."

Brendan perked up. "Your family's actually going to let you?"

"No. But once I have my license there's not much they can do to st-stop me. They'll be keeping me busy the first day registration i-is open, but I think I can slip away the day after, once they think I've given up," Wally said.

"It's so stupid!" May said. "You shouldn't have to sneak off to become a trainer."

Ash broke in. "So all three of you are going to be new trainers this year?"

May nodded. "You bet. Professor Birch is sponsoring me, so I'm going to stay at Brendan's house in Littleroot the night before registration opens. That way I can be at the lab bright and early. My master plan is to get a Torchic so I can beat up my dad's normal-type gym when it becomes a Combusken."

"You don't sound very much like a 'graceful and elegant' coordinator right now," Brendan said. "What happened to that goal?"

May stuck out her tongue. "I can be elegant when I want to be. Meaning, I'm fully capable of becoming the next top coordinator while still having the time to demolish my dad's gym as well as that – that Flannery."

Brendan rolled his eyes before looking at Ash across the firelight. "I guess I should mention that my dad is Daniel Birch, the pokémon professor in Littleroot and one of the most respected researchers worldwide. I'm not bragging; I just want to get it out of the way now."

"I think I remember seeing the name Birch on one of my textbooks. Ecosystems and the World?" Ash asked.

"Yeah. Probably. The thing you've got to understand is, I have no intention of being a scientist even if it's in my blood. That's not where my passion is. I love to train grass-type pokémon more than anything else." Brendan's eyes shone in the firelight. "They're totally versatile and cool, and I'm going to show the world that by being the first trainer to qualify for the Ever Grande Conference using only grass-type pokémon!"

May smiled. "He's completely serious. You should see him play with the baby grass-type pokémon at his father's lab. He lets them climb all over him, tries to teach them how to play tag, and afterwards gushes about how great they were for hours. It's adorable."

Ash couldn't help smiling back at May. The trio's enthusiasm was infectious, and it was good to be talking about something he loved after a day of reciting the attack of the Sapphire Desperado to a horde of nurses and concerned bureaucrats.

"It's a good goal to have," Ash said. "Too many people underestimate the potential of grass-types."

"Um, what about you, Ash? Have you c-competed in a League circuit before?" Wally asked.

"I'm not a trainer yet," Ash admitted. "I'm going to register in two weeks like the rest of you."

"Really?" May said, leaning forward. "But you already have a pokémon … and it's big."

Ash rubbed the back of his neck. "I only caught Oblivion today – no, it would be yesterday now. I think. We originally did it to escape the Aqua Armada, but we're going to aim for the Ever Grande Conference together now that we're –" He hesitated. "Partners."

"It's t-technically illegal to catch a pokémon without a trainer's license, r-right?" Wally asked.

"Ash's situation was an extenuating circumstance," Brendan said. "My father won't care if you ask him to get Oblivion properly registered under your name."

May took a swig from the bottle of coconut vodka. "You'll all have tough competition if you make it to the Ever Grande Conference. The trainers this year were amazing. Nobody could get me away from the television when a match was on these past three weeks, and believe me, they tried. My mom didn't get to watch The Faller at all this month."

Ash touched Oblivion's pokéball, nestled in his pocket. The metal had warmed from the fire. He was curious to hear the locals' evaluation of his future opponents.

Brendan nodded, in agreement with May. "True. But the Conference rankings in the top thirty-two were almost exclusively occupied by veteran trainers. It'll be tough to break past them in the ranks as rookies, yeah, but there wasn't much new blood to be seen. Just the same old faces."

"Phoebe Tura took fourth. You can't ignore that," May said.

"Vito Winstrate was in the top sixteen," Wally said. "That's, um, almost unheard of for a Conference newcomer, even if he was overshadowed b-by Phoebe."

"There are normally a few more newcomers between ranks twenty and thirty-two. It was sparser than usual this year, even if those two did break into the ranks almost exclusively taken by veterans," Brendan said. He turned to Ash. "Back me up here, man."

Ash shook his head. "Unfortunately, I didn't catch the Ever Grande Conference this year. There wasn't a signal aboard the ship."

"That's a shame. Make sure to watch a video of Phoebe's semifinals match when you get the chance, but we can catch you up on the standings if you'd like," May said.

"I'd appreciate it."

The four continued to pass around the coconut vodka as they argued about the Conference. May took a pot off the bonfire full of rice soup, pouring them all bowls, then passed around skewers of vegetables and meat for them to roast over the fire. At Ash's look of surprise, she said, "We've been practicing cooking out here on the beach to make sure we're ready for our journeys. I think we've gotten good by now, but that'll be for you to judge."

He didn't question her after that, but ate ravenously, glad to be alive and eating well.

They drank, the three locals animatedly questioning Ash about Kanto when he told them where he was from. They debated the possibilities of finding rarer pokémon in the nearby routes – although they made sure to describe to Ash in great detail all of the pokémon they had seen in the area before, down to the Poochyena and Wingull. The buzz of alcohol warmed Ash, made the world seem better than before. He was alive. His veins burned with life. Even the tenderness where he had been stitched was only a dull throb. Being close to death had made every sound and sensation wonderful.

Wally watched him across the firelight. "Um, w-what was the Aqua Armada like?" he said suddenly, ducking his head.

Ash drank again, staring out at the ocean. In the Hoenn night, you couldn't even see the familiar glow of a big city like Saffron in the distance. Just the liquid silver reflection of the moon on the water. Far out on the horizon, a few blue and red lights blinked – the lights of ships bound for Slateport, from what he understood.

"You ever seen them before?" he asked.

"The Aqua Armada?" May shook her head. "No way. You don't know they're around unless they're dressed and assembled for a mission. Brendan and I were suspicious of a ship that docked in Petalburg once; they had a whole bunch of shifty thugs for guards. Wouldn't let us sneak close." She grimaced. "They had Lanturn in the water."

Brendan laughed. "I remember that. I tried to swim close and startled tingling all over. Supposedly I passed out and was floating in the water like a cork!"

May scowled. "And then I had to get my dad so a pokémon could drag you to shore. You got me grounded for weeks."

"I said I was sorry," Brendan mumbled.

"They're completely unlike the Magma Militia," Wally said. "That group is crawling all over Mt. Chimney, d-despite the best efforts of authorities. But staying on the shore we don't really see the Aqua Armada. That's w-why I want to know what they're like."

"Heartless," Ash said. His hands curled into fists. "They're not clean or efficient in their kills; they let them drag out to maximize terror. I'd bet that's why they attack in the midst of storms too. To make themselves more terrifying."

"I heard it was because it makes them feel closer to the world shaper they worship," May said softly.

"Kyogre," Wally whispered. The name seemed to stir the wind.

A grimace flickered over Brendan's face. He took another swig from the bottle and handed it to May. Stood up. "I got to get some sleep." He headed up the beach, calling back over his shoulder, "It was nice meeting you, man. See you in Littleroot."

Ash and the rest of the group watched him go. The last log in the fire crackled, sending sparks. May reached into the flame, turning the log deeper into the coals. "I need to head after him," she said. "He's staying at my place. Ash, you should go with Wally."

"I'm sorry," Wally said. "I didn't m-mean to spoil the night."

May shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Just because Brendan gets uncomfortable when the old religions are brought up doesn't mean we should never speak of it." She stared into the dying embers. "A lot of secrets are hidden in those old myths. A lot more are hidden in the wilderness around us. I don't know why, Ash, but your story makes me think they're about to meet."

They continued to sit and listen to the night wind blow in. Something about her words – something about the night – crept under Ash's skin and made him shiver harder than before. Something felt wrong. Something much bigger than him.

Then, as he listened past the insects and the waves, he heard it.

High-pitched and keening, a haunting cry stirred the wind. It rose alone at first, then coiled itself in the wind until the two sounds were one. It was not a familiar sound, but it was not unfamiliar either – as if it cried out to some long-forgotten instinct in his soul. There was a primalness to it, so piercing the air itself shivered, but also the shadows of mortal emotion: regret, loneliness, grief.

It crescendoed to an eerie, soulful lament, then all at once fell silent, its echo retreating back across the jungle into the mountains. And in the hush that followed, Ash heard, or thought he heard, the whispery slither of a being flying east.

Thank you for reading.

In addition to you, I'd also like to thank Kronus96 for looking over this chapter for me – go check out his pokémon story, Into the Wild, which features Ash journeying through Kanto with his childhood Swinub. Let's just say there's a reason I asked for his advice.

Next chapter, we have Ash officially starting out on his journey. What are your favorite Hoenn pokémon? What do you hope to see?