This isn't a game. The realization was slowly embedding itself into his consciousness with every step. Every birdcall was real, every breeze organic, and his Pokémon… living, breathing beings who looked to him not just for commands, but for trust, guidance, and connection.
He pulled out his PokéNav again, scrolling through the features. Everything seemed functional—his money, over 300,000 PokéDollars, was still accessible, his Trainer Card displayed his badges from Hoenn, and the map indicated he was just a few kilometers from Cherrygrove City.
And then there was the Pokédex—no longer a static encyclopedia, but a living database. It responded to voice queries, provided real-time feedback, even offered personality insights on his Pokémon. That level of immersion had never existed in any game.
"Alright," he muttered, stopping to sit on a fallen log. He opened his notebook—a habit he picked up during college—and began jotting down the facts.
- I'm in the Johto Region.
- I have the team from my Emerald playthrough.
- My PokéNav and Pokédex are real tools.
- Pokémon seem to know more than four moves.
- People treat Pokémon like partners, not just battlers.
- This world operates on realism, not game logic.
He stared at the last point, underlining it twice.
It made sense in hindsight. Breloom had dodged Rattata's Hyper Fang with a clever sidestep—not just a stat-based evasion but a real, physical move. Gardevoir had scanned the area telepathically when summoned earlier, not just idled like an idle sprite. Even Salamence had looked at him with something like... sentience.
"This changes everything."
His team wasn't just strong—they were intelligent. Sentient, maybe. They had fought for him in the game. But it was just a game, he'd been treating them like game pieces. Now, he needed to know them. Truly.
He stood, tucking his notebook away, and continued down the path toward Cherrygrove.
(break)
Cherrygrove City was quaint—rows of modest houses with tiled roofs, a coastline that shimmered under the lowering sun, and the familiar red-roofed Pokémon Center nestled near the heart of town. Al headed straight for it.
Inside, he was greeted by a soft hum of activity: trainers chatting, Pokémon being healed, and the familiar chime of the healing machine. The nurse smiled warmly as he approached.
"Welcome to the Cherrygrove Pokémon Center. Need your team checked?"
He nodded. "Might as well. They're fine, but…" he hesitated, "I just want to be sure."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
She took his Poké Balls and placed them in the machine. "From Hoenn, huh?" she said, glancing at his ID on the screen. "Not often we see one of those."
Al smiled wryly. "Guess I'm a long way from home."
She handed his team back a minute later. "All in perfect condition. Quite the team you've got."
"Thanks," he said, then added, "I have a question. Are there different kinds of Gym Challenges in Johto? Not just the standard badge route?"
The nurse perked up. "Oh! You're probably thinking of the Star Badge Challenge."
"Yeah, that's the one," he said, surprised she knew.
"It's tougher," she warned. "Same Gyms, but the Leaders use their top-tier teams—the ones they use in the Elite circuits or exhibition matches. Most trainers don't go for it unless they're aiming to go pro or challenge the League with recognition from the Gym Committee."
That lit a fire in Al. It was a path that would push both him and his team—not just a rehash of the gym fights he knew, but a full test of strength and synergy. This was his second chance at life, he wouldn't waste it.
"I want that," he said firmly.
The nurse nodded. "Then you'll need to register officially with the League. You can do that at the Trainer Hub in Violet City. Until then, stock up—trainers who go for the Star Badges usually train hard before their first battle."
(break)
The PokéMart was just across the street. Al spent generously—buying potions, full heals, escape ropes, and even a few specialized vitamins. He grabbed a tent, cooking supplies, and field rations. If he was going to understand this world, he needed to experience it fully.
He passed through the edge of town as dusk set in, finding a small trail that led into the woods. The Ilex Forest was farther north, but this was just a modest patch of woodland—a perfect place for solitude and reflection.
He set up camp, his Salamence clearing a space with a careful sweep of its tail. As the fire crackled, Al laid out six Poké Balls before him.
"This isn't a battle tonight," he said aloud. "This is... us getting to know each other. For real."
He released his team.
Salamence curled protectively near the perimeter, alert but calm. Metagross sat like a statue, glowing eyes flickering with data. Gardevoir levitated silently, eyes reflecting the flames. Breloom stretched, then began shadowboxing nearby. Manectric prowled in a slow circle, nose twitching. Swampert planted itself near the fire, solid and warm.
Al looked at each of them in turn.
"You guys... you're not data. You're not just power levels and stat spreads.
He stood, placing his hand on his chest. "We're in a new world. It's real. You're real. I want to understand you—not just your moves, but what you want. What you feel. Who you are."
There was a long silence.
Then Gardevoir stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his temple. A soft pulse entered his mind—a mental echo. Gratitude. Affection. Curiosity. She had understood him long before he understood her.
Manectric gave a short huff and lay beside him, head on its paws. Swampert rumbled in agreement. Breloom bounded over, giving him a mock jab to the shoulder and a grin.
Even Metagross gave a faint shimmer of approval, its metallic limbs relaxing slightly.
Al laughed softly. "Okay. One by one. Let's learn. Not just moves. But strategy. Thought. Synergy."
(break)
They began the next day.
He started with Gardevoir—training not just offensive techniques but control. She demonstrated a repertoire far beyond the standard four: Calm Mind, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam... but also Hypnosis, Misty Terrain, Healing Wish. And Teleport—she could move the entire group in a flash.
With Breloom, they focused on movement. He knew Mach Punch, Seed Bomb, and Spore, but he also showed off Counter, Leech Seed, Sky Uppercut. Together they ran drills—dodging, feinting, combo attacks.
Swampert worked on terrain control. He could shape mud into slick traps, summon localized rain, even sense vibrations in the ground to predict movement. His strength was devastating, but he was also tactical.
Manectric had a keen sense for prediction. He'd charge power with Charge or Magnet Rise, bait attacks with Double Team, then strike hard with Thunderbolt or Crunch. He could even use Snarl to weaken enemies, or Signal Beam for coverage.
Salamence's power was overwhelming—but he flew with grace. Dragon Dance boosted him into a fury, but he also had precise moves like Dragon Claw, Aerial Ace, even Fire Fang. His Roar could send lesser Pokémon fleeing.
Metagross was the tactician. Psychic, Meteor Mash, Earthquake, but also Reflect, Agility, and even Gravity—a move Al hadn't known he could learn. He could manipulate the battlefield with surgical precision.
(break)
By the end of three days, Al was exhausted—but invigorated. He'd slept in a tent, eaten campfire meals, and sparred with his team under the stars. But more than that—he'd connected. They weren't just fighters. They were friends. His new family.
On the fourth morning, he stood on a rocky outcrop overlooking the trees. Violet City shimmered faintly on the horizon. The wind tugged at his jacket as he turned back to his team.
"Let's do it," he said. "Let's take the Star Badge challenge."
His team answered not with words—but with presence. With trust.
And Al, for the first time since awakening in this world, truly felt ready.