She does not recall the chill before the pain nor the mocking laughter as her lungs finally give out in agony. Nor does she recall her final thoughts, floating, wondering what she did wrong.

All she can remember is a blur.

A misty, cool haze envelops her body, covered only by the cloth on her skin, wrapped in something heavy. The sound of birds and wind through tree branches makes her ears tingle and, after taking a shaky inhale, she finally opens her eyes and the world wakes up around her, constantly shifting until it forms into something coherent.

Ceaseless fog greets her.

White fog as far as the eye could see. Outlines of trees, animals that she couldn’t quite make out resting on its gnarled branches. Thick brambles that obscured most of the floor around her and the smell of wet grass and something mixed in that she couldn’t put a name on roused her mind from dull sleep. Noises echo through the fog. Unidentifiable. Her head hurts.

Everything hurts.

“D-dammit.” Her voice almost cracks. She hurts all over and it feels as if her lungs are trying to suffocate her. Each inhale nearly makes her cry and ache. “Wh-where am I?” And almost retches when a sharp pain practically electrifies her stomach and almost sends her to the ground covered in sweat. She felt groggy and awfully. She doesn’t know why everything hurts, she doesn’t remember why.

Nor, after choking on her own spit, can she recall her name.

“Ngnh. That stings-”

All she remembers are fragments here and there. A family in the UK, college, bits and bobs that were too fractured for her to understand, a lot of meat from steak to pies, animals, birds… But even as she tries, her name refuses to return to her. It’s like an empty void beyond the shattered glass. If there is one thing she can confirm, she was a college student.

“...? My voice?”

A college student who looked too young to even be in middle school.

“Huh?! Why am I a-a child?!”

Her skin looked too smooth, her limbs too small and her voice too squeaky. Even if she had no mirror to look into; she has a haunting sensation in her gut that’s telling her that her face would be no different than the rest of her. But it also didn’t look quite right. Blemishes, decorated her flesh, on her shoulders and possibly her face. Messy, uneven splotches, more like vitiligo if she had any comparison. She had a lot of freckles when she was younger, she recalls, but did she ever have them like this?

How does one suddenly de-age? How does one suddenly find themselves in a situation like this? In a place unfamiliar to her with fractured memories, she would have assumed she hit her head. But she feels no other pain behind the dull ache in her head, no bruising of any sort. Only the dull ache all over her and her own sweat. Extremely salty. Something was horribly wrong. She would assume this was a dream, however, the pain felt too real, and as much as she wanted to convince herself this was just a deep, lucid dream-

“...Help. I need to f-find help.” Her words shake. “Y-yes. Help. Someone, anybody.”

But she finds herself confused. With fog this thick inside this strange forest area, she had no doubts she would be horribly lost, but she also knew that staying would do nothing. So, she picked a direction, where it looked more open despite the fog, and wandered forth.

Wandered.

And wandered.

Minutes pass.

Or at least she thinks so, it was a struggle to count.

But she continues regardless.

Always pushed back her thoughts as she kept up a slow pace, listening out for anything suspicious. She had no doubts there were dangerous animals that lived here. Bears, maybe wild dogs or wolves, and even a startled deer could kill her if she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. She couldn’t trust herself to run and no way was she going to fist fight a bear, especially now that she was suddenly a child.

What else could kill her besides falling off a random cliff? She doesn’t remain keen on thinking of such things.

“J-just keep your eyes peeled…. Just keep your, your… Eyes p-peeled?”

There’s a shape in the fog, round and fluffy that slowly rolls by. A sheep she thinks, a very round sheep. With a thick white fleece and an adorable face rolling past with its limbs tucked in, she would have found it as cute as a button if the weird sheep hadn’t immediately stopped to look at her, head poking out to look at her. It wasn’t a species she recognised. Not a Valais Blacknose, not a Suffolk… She wasn’t going to claim she knew sheep in general, this might just be a rare species she’s unfamiliar with. But she knew that this breed would be popular on the internet. It was utterly adorable. Especially with how it sticks its tongue out.

Yet, she cannot help but think she recognises it.

“Baaa!”

“O-Oh-”

She curses, flinching back as the sheep trots up to her. The sheep could become aggressive on the spot for all she knew, and childhood memories remind her that an angry sheep is especially deadly to small things, especially if they were rams. But she couldn’t stop shivering. What should she do? Tempt fate and run? Try to appear non-threatening? What-

“Baa?”

It tilts its head in confusion when she flinches again, letting out a soft bleat as its eyes examine her. An act that immediately catches her off guard. Why were the sheep squinting at her like it was actually thinking?

Unsure, she stays completely still, heart hammering when the sheep looks up at her. There’s another tilt of its head and, almost as if realises it was scaring her-

Backs away slowly, form low as if it was trying its absolute best to be as non-threatening as possible.

“Wh-Whuh?”

“Baaa…”

The girl isn’t quite sure what was happening. And it takes her a few seconds for her brain to finally catch up as the sheep lets out a small, curious noise, peeking upward to look at her. “You… You’re a fr-friendly lil’ guy, a-ain’t ya?” It nods, once again catching her off guard. “A-And you can understand me?”

“Baaaa!”

“...What… What an odd sheep you are.” She looks at it closer, nervously chuckling. God, did she feel like she was off her rocker talking to a sheep like this? Yes. She did. “Do you belong to someone? I… Don’t see a t-tag or anything like that on you.”

“Baa?”

“You must do, right? I’ve never known a sheep to understand human speech before, especially like this-”

Then, she notices.

She recognises the sheep.

She absolutely recognises this lovely sheep looking at her. Its goofy and cute face, its fluffy, round body with a fleece she could lose herself in for hours. Honestly, she feels a bit stupid for not recognising it.

'But how the hell am I supposed to comprehend that a Wooloo, a fictional creature, was right in front of me? Living, breathing, rolling about with no thought in its head?'

The realisation hits her like a truck.

“Holy sh-shit.”

Did she die? Is she actually stuck inside an absolutely insane dream where everything feels painfully realistic? Is her brain trying to give her a surge of serotonin to distract her from any sort of sadness she might have had previously?

“Hoollyyy shittt.”

“Baa?”

“Th-this ain’t a dream, it doesn’t fuckin’ explain the fact I look like a ch-child again but it's too real to be one.” She cups her cheeks and lets out a shaky gasp. “I’m real. This is all real. You’re real. Oooooh no… Then, that means…”

Pokemon.

She was very, very likely in the world of Pokemon.

Honestly, she was sure that if her brain didn’t bluescreen right at that very moment, it would have exploded hours later when the realisation fully kicks in. ‘Pokemon? Seriously? Fantastic. Who wouldn’t love to be-’

“Transported? Reincarnated? Whatever.”

-transported into the world of Pokemon? Full of amazing, terrifying creatures that could obliterate her, heal her up, then send her off her merry way within ten seconds? Ones that could also change lives for the better? A childhood dream for many, including her. And right before her was a real-life Wooloo, so damned adorable she would have lifted it up for a hug if it wasn’t almost the same size as her.

She reaches over, bringing her palm out for the Pokemon to examine. After a brief moment, Wooloo bumps its face into her palm and gently nuzzles it with a happy baa “Wooloo, Wooloo.” They were so soft to the touch, so warm and gentle. “If you are a Wooloo, then that means… Am I in that new region?”

The name escapes her, but she’ll assume so. Funnily enough, to her anyway, remembering more about certain Pokemon seemed a lot easier than remembering her actual life.

“Okay, um, so.” Wooloo tilts its head, waiting patiently as she stutters. “Do- Do you know a way out? Somewhere safe, with other people?”

Thankfully, the Wooloo eagerly nods, practically bouncing on the spot as it turns to roll.

Crack!

Only to freeze in its tracks, a sudden, crushing sensation, halting the both of them in their tracks. Like a killing intent manifested.

There’s something there.

Glaring at them.

As if one wrong move could summon its ire even further. As if one wrong move could bring them the cold embrace of death. Although she’s completely still in fear, Wooloo shivers and lets out a shaky, nervous baa as a gigantic shadow descends from the trees and lands on the ground with a near silent thud that briefly parts the fog and reveals the creature.

An accomplishment considering the creature, a Corviknight, another she recognises. And its sheer size alone easily dwarfed the both of them combined, towering over both of them with glowing red eyes full of hate. Their dark metallic feathers reflected what little of the faint light penetrated the canopy with each individual feather looking sharp enough to shred the both of them into pieces. Those talons alone looked strong enough to shatter a watermelon with nothing more than a weak flex of its muscles, and considering the size…

The mental image of any part of her getting caught in those claws makes her no less nervous, she has no doubts that the beak would do the same job and be just as efficient.

She tries not to choke.

“I-I’m sorry-”

The fog obscures the Pokemon once again, yet its eyes pierced through the shroud with glowing red ire.

‘Think,’ she screams to herself in her head. ‘Think!’

“I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean to in-intrude-” An almost completely jumbled mess spills out of her mouth, her stutter so awful she almost bites her tongue. Not helped as the Corviknight slowly comes closer in steady, almost purposely slow steps; wings slowly expanding outward and talons glowing red and growing as it scrapes against the ground, leaving notable marks in the soil and stone.

‘Hone Claws.’

“We- We were just on our w-way. S-So please, we’ll j-just leave and-”

“Baaa!”

Despite the fear in their voice and the shaking of the body, Wooloo adopts a more prepared stance, something that seems to amuse the Corviknight greatly as it smirks despite it should have been impossible anatomy-wise. With a puff of its chest and a flap of its wings, suddenly both the girl and Wooloo find themselves almost swept off their feet by a strong gale, sending them both onto their backs and gasping for air as talons suddenly press them hard into the ground. Just hard enough to leave them wheezing and trapped but gentle enough to not shatter their ribs. Although, it doesn’t stop the Pokemon’s talons from gripping just a hint tighter for the girl, seemingly taking great joy in listening to her whimper and cry.

“N-No-”

Sadistic and cruel was the Corviknight, pressing down ever so slightly hard to hear her sob before loosening up. The bird's eyes never leave her, always drinking in her suffering with glee, tormenting her as the sides of a talon gently scrape against her shoulder. Not quite cutting deep enough until they let out a mirthful caw as it digs it past her skin and into her flesh, practically humming as she screams as the talon begins to drag further down her shoulder and to her back, finally parting with a talon tip coated in blood.

‘I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die-’

Her sobs and screams seem to startle Wooloo, catching a faint hint of copper and struggling against the Corviknights grip. But it could barely move a claw. The fully evolved raven Pokemon was far too strong for a Wooloo after all.

Despite its best efforts, it attempts to overpower the grip, to try and call out at the top of its lungs in a panicked frenzy.

----------------------------------------

Corviknight laughs, and it relishes in their suffering. Sending one final message to the Wooloo with a smirk and a sadistic glare-

“CHARMANDER USE A FULL FOCUSED EMBER, NOW!”

Only to suddenly screech as blistering heat burns at its metallic feathers from behind, losing its footing and finally releasing the pressure off of their chests as another burst of embers strike the Corviknight’s back in a wild, intense flurry. Some veer off to the sides, turning tufts of grass dark in seconds, never igniting into flames due to the fog.

“MUNCHLAX! TH- FIRE PUNCH!”

Another burst of flames, this time Corviknight feels a heavy weight slam into its back with the force of a rock thrown by a Machamp and flames that made those embers feel nothing more than a weak ray of sunlight, the searing fist of the Pokemon sends it skidding across the floor, screeching and squawking at the pain and state of its back feathers. A hiss catches its attention, snapping its head up to see a large Charmander snarling with flames rising from its maw and a sleepy Munchlax, paw raised and crackling with embers.

The sight almost makes it want to scoff. But it readies itself. It was no fool, it could feel their power. And it wasn’t alone, it heard voices, human voices.

When it catches sight of two humans, rushing towards its prey in a panic, suddenly it makes sense. Trainer Pokemon.

Pathetic.

“Dear? A-Are you-?”

“Margaret, I’ll deal with the Corviknight, you make sure she and Wooloo are okay.”

“W-Will do!”

“Now… I suppose we should deal with you.”

Surely the boy was jesting. Perhaps he might have been worried if the boy commanded the Munchlax, but it seems it wasn’t the case, watching the Charmander retreat to the boy's side before they both wear the look of confidence on their faces. Despite type advantages, a Charmander was a Charmander. The flames of its tail may burn bright and wild, but it has hunted its kind before, wild and under the command of a human, all had fallen under the brutality of its claws.

This one would be no different.

“Corviknight.” The boy whistles, impressed, full of confidence in his voice that makes his blood boil. “Fully evolved, somewhat healthy lookin’… But clearly, a scaredy Skitty, picking on a Wooloo and child like that, eh? Is that right, mate? Are you a scaredy Skitty?”

The moment he opened his wings, he let them know his answer. With a flex of his muscles and an intake of energy, one mighty flap summons an intense gale that causes them all to flinch, this time shooting orbs of energy directly towards them, taking the shape of spinning stars.

But the boy’s smirk does not falter.

“Swift? No biggie! Counter with a wide-spread Ember and follow it up with a Fire Spin!”

Charmander responds at an instant, drawing its head back before shooting forward spewing out a flurry of hot embers at a wider, if not somewhat weaker concentration than it had been before. But it's enough to disperse the projectiles, each one exploding into smoke before a fiery vortex surrounds Corviknight at a speed that catches him off guard, screeching as the heat roars and nips at his body and lingers with burns. Before he would allow him to issue another command he takes to the skies, flying high above the fog and the canopy before allowing his wings to become as hard as steel and diving back down, picking up the speed so quickly that he almost appears to vanish from sight.

No one sees Corviknight in time before his wing makes contact with Charmander’s front and sends the Pokemon flying into a tree with a heavy thud, causing the tree's bark to snap and crack from the impact.

“Charmander?!”

“I think that was Agility!” The woman calls out. The bird spots the weakling Wooloo hiding behind her back and the girl violently shivering in her arms, her back slowly being patched up by the woman as she tries to calm her down. The Munchlax was nowhere in sight. “It’s using the momentum to power its attacks!”

The boy grumbles, making eye contact with his Charmander who gives him his best thumbs up as he gets onto his feet. “Ah, this fog ain’t helping much, it's dulling Charmanders fire attacks and making it hard to see… But that also applies to you. Okay, new plan! Charmander, cover me and you with a Smokescreen!”

Corviknight scowls, watching in irritation as Charmander spews a thick and heavy smoke from its mouth and completely obscures the area, even smothering its prey in the blanket. Clearly, he thinks that the human was an idiot. Swift never missed its target. It could obscure his vision as much as he wanted, he’s already gotten a good feeling about where they are. They were only delaying the inevitable.

Energy gathers within his wings and once more he fires Swift, the stars zipping through the air before they find their target in the smog and strike. An explosion rings out through the forest, the dirt and dust are flung into the air and causing more of the ground to be obscured.

But the lack of noise causes him to pause.

He didn’t hear a scream.

There’s always a scream.

Why wasn’t there screaming?

Something shifts behind him, melting out from the shadows.

“Shadow Sneak!”

A shadowy blade strikes him before he could even react, causing him to flinch and swerve backwards just in time to swat away the sudden threat before watching his wing phase through the intruder like they were nothing. There was no contact. Only a gleeful, practically a giggle, was his response as the Honedge swung back and forth before slamming its blade across his beak and sending Corviknight towards the ground as Honedge slammed downward directly on top of his head.

Corviknight shrieks. Mind racing to think when he sent out another? The smoke?

“Nice, good job Honedge! Charmander, hit him with another Ember before he recovers, when it looks like the Fire Spin has worn off, use another! Honedge, Swords Dance and continue the assault, try and attack from behind as much as possible! If Corviknight doesn’t want to play fair and pick on someone his own size, we won’t play fair either!”

Flames burn. Blades sing. The raven Pokemon finds himself constantly on the defensive. His plumage rose in fury. These two first forms were making a mockery out of him, penetrating through his majestic armour and making him look like easy prey. If the Charmander wasn’t burning him from all directions, the Honedge was making sure he couldn’t get too high into the air, each strike threatening to break his feathers with each Swords Dance it stacks.

Worst of all, that wasn’t all.

“Munch!”

A fist of thunder strikes him. Corviknight doesn’t even see it coming when the fist wallops him across the face with so much force he almost sees white beyond the crackling of lighting. He could barely see the Munchlax looking down at him with an empty expression, chewing on its paw before it smacks him across the beak with another electric-fueled fist that shocks his entire body.

Numb.

He’s going numb. He feels the electricity course through his body, and his urge to tear them to shreds only rises.

“He’s paralysed! Great job Munchlax!”

Red begins to taint his vision.

A mockery. They were mocking him.

How dare they.

His blood boils to the point it burns. He refuses to go down. He ruled this land with an iron claw, all who dared to trespass on his territory would learn of their grave error as he punished them accordingly. The king of the misty weald, free of human blight, who refuses to go down like this.

“Now that he’s weak enough, I might as well give this a try-”

The boy reaches into his pocket, and Corviknights blood runs cold, his heart freezing before he even takes out a familiar sphere that sends his mind into a panicked frenzy. Voices scream at him to run. Swallow his pride and run, or allow it to be ruined forever like it almost was so long ago.

Never again. A king without blight, ruler of the misty weald. That was what he was, now, and forever more.

Run.

RUN.

“You’d make a great member of the team,” The trainer grins, reaching for a spare Pokeball in his pocket. “I can always appreciate a Corviknight, even if you are a bully-”

RUN.

“Wh-What the-”

The chilling, blood-curdling shriek that escapes Corviknight’s beak was enough to wake the dead, horrific enough to completely freeze everyone in their tracks as the bird Pokemon screeches and frenzies into a panicked rage, swatting at Charmander with a wing before it begins to attempt to limp away. Fighting off the paralysis as much as it could.

He will survive.

Just as he always had.

----------------------------------------

As Charmander goes to shoot it back down, his trainer’s voice halts him.

“That’s enough bud, it's clear he knows he’s outmatched.”

Although hesitant, they all watch the Corviknight limp away. The electric currents coursing through his body briefly stopped him every few steps, never looking back. But Charmander could feel the hatred pouring off of the bird-like an invisible, thick smog. And he wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t suddenly pop up in the middle of the night to try and assassinate all of them in their sleep.

It makes him scoff and pout. Honedge nudges him in understanding but points back to their trainer with a shrug.

“Well done you two. I was worried that the Corviknight would be a lot stronger, but it ended up being more tweet than peck.” He chuckles and brings out their Pokeballs, with a frown. “Okay you two, return. I don’t think you wanna hear Professor Magnolia scold your ears off.”

They both roll their eyes but happily return to their balls before he pockets them away, turning to face the youngsters. Only to flinch as he watches the last wound on the girl's back get covered by gauze and kneel beside them.

“Hey, kiddo.” He says softly. “You okay? The big bully is gone now. How is she?”

“Terrified. Hello, sweetie. I’m Margaret, we’ve scared off the big mean Corviknight. You’re safe, there’s nothing to worry about now.”

Despite Margaret's words, the girl sobs and hiccups into the woman's chest, shivering so fearfully that he begins to feel bad even when Margaret strokes her hair. He gently rubs her lower back in circular motions, listening to her whimper and sniffle as he avoids her wounds and notes her appearance. Rags. Grey, dirty rags. That was the best way to describe them. Nothing a child should be wearing at all, and she didn’t look much older than his baby brother.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re here now.” He frowns. “Hey, where’s your mum and dad?”

Silence.

Margaret's eyes seem to soften. “Oh… Sweetie, where are your parents? This isn’t a safe place for anyone to be in.”

The girl chokes a bit, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. “I- I don’t- I don’t know…”

They both shot each other a look; they didn’t recognise the girl at all. Not in Wedgehurst, and certainly not in Postwick. A haunting sensation bubbles in Margaret's gut and stabs at her heart, but she doesn’t let it show, continuing to calm down the little girl as best she could.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Sweetie? What’s your name?”

“...”

“Hm?”

“I-I don’t know-” She hiccups. “I don’t kn-know. I-I just w-woke up here- I don’t remember- I don’t know wh-who anyone is-”

“Oh… You poor thing…”

“..? You don’t remember..?”

“Leon?”

Leon’s attention snaps to Margaret, a soft yet worried expression on her face. “We should head back home, it's dangerous enough in the Slumbering Weald as is and this poor thing needs help.”

“Right. Also, you!”

Wooloo jumps in fright, letting out a nervous meep when Leon glares at him. “You’re in a lot of trouble mister, you know better than to go into the Slumbering Weald, you made Hop cry when you suddenly ran off like that. Don’t do that again otherwise, I’ll ban you from eating your favourite food for a whole year!”

“B-Beh?!”

Judging by the frantic look in Wooloo’s eyes, Leon had no doubts that the fuzzy Pokemon would listen to their warnings from now on. Good, fewer heart attacks for everyone involved.

“Now, let’s get out of here and heal you up, you’ve got some scratches on you…”

----------------------------------------

Despite their worries, Professor Magnolia didn’t out to greet them. However, much to Leon's horror, he instead sees his angry mother looking like she was about to ground him for life AND whack him upside the head with a rolled-up newspaper. Even worse, he spots Hop, crying beside her with a red, tear-stained face in his little school uniform and unintentionally weaponised to make him feel extremely bad. And instantly, it works. As soon as Hop sees him the younger brother bawls out crying, calling out his name with a wail and his mother’s frown intensifies.

Only to become a worried expression when they see the girl in Margaret's arms.

“H-Huh?” Martha blinks. Hop sniffles, reaching out his arms for Leon to come over and lift him up, which he does gladly, patting his back and quietly apologising. “Who-”

“We found her in the Slumbering Weald, she was injured by a Corviknight and the poor girl is terrified.” She quickly explains, rushing past them. “Sorry Martha, but she needs to be checked, you can yell at me all you want later, right now I need to check for extra injuries, poison, anything-”

“Margaret, calm down. Here, bring her over to mine, I have spare berries and medical equipment.”

“But-”

“Do you honestly believe that your place is safe for a child to even breathe in right now?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought, come on. Leon! You’re not safe from scolding, young man! After we sort this out, you’re grounded when you get back home from your journey!”

“B-But mum!”

“No buts!”

Leon pouts in annoyance. Although his annoyance is quickly ignored as he feels Hop gently tug at his sleeve, and in response, ruffles his hair to garner a few squeaky protests from his younger brother, chuckling all the while.

“Noooooo~ Lee! Stoooopp!”

“Heh, sorry Hopscotch. Sorry for worrying you too, I won’t do that again.”

“Mhm…”

It was clear that Hop was still upset. Sniffling even as his hair was ruffled, his grip on his brother’s arm remained firm. It makes Leon frown, the guilt nibbling away. Even Wooloo looked guilty, looking away almost shamefully at a patch of grass before deciding to munch on it. Clearly, dealing with its hunger was more important.

And it gives Leon an idea.

“Hey, tell you what, chap.” Leon grins and bops Hop on the nose with a finger, causing him to giggle as he begins to follow his mum and Margaret to his home. The night air was crisp, he noticed. “You can sleep over in my room tonight since I’m leaving tomorrow. And since I got the spare change for it, how about I treat us to takeout tonight? We can have pizza from Krookodile Pizza if you fancy that.”

Hop gasps.

“R-Really?”

“Yep!” He grins. “I'll even get you an extra-large with fries and a side if you want, we'll even watch a movie! Mom might complain, but you deserve a treat!”

“Yay! I love you Lee~!”

“Love ya too! Now… Let’s head back.”

As soon as Leon steps through the front door, he hears the droning of the newslady on the telly in the living room as well as muffled hiccups from the kitchen which grabs Hop's attention, peeking to try and find the source. Although the telly was on, no one was watching it and Purrloin was fast asleep on the settee. He figured their gran and grandad had gone to bed, forgetting to turn it off. Then again, he didn’t hear a peep out of them when Hop was crying about his missing Wooloo, so maybe-

“Mhm… Lee? Who is she?”

“Hm?”

“Who is she?” He points to the kitchen. “Her?”

“Oh, the kid? Dunno. She doesn’t seem to remember her name at the moment.”

“She… Doesn’t remember?” Hop pauses to think. “That sounds silly. I can remember my name, you can remember your name. She sounds silly.”

“Heh, well, Hopscotch. Sometimes, something can happen to a person that makes them forget things. She might have hit her head and it caused her to forget.”

Or that’s what those books he remembered reading in middle school said. It was weird. They were all complicated books meant for high schoolers that were supposed to be transferred, but he wanted to have a gander before they left and it really confused him. Psychology? Structures of the brain? Hormonal Balances? Abuse? He struggled to wrap his mind around it and it left him even more confused.

But he does recall bits here and there.

Amnesia was easy to remember when one realises how terrifying such a prospect could be.

Leon nearly laughs out of his nerves. If he somehow forgot about his family, his precious Hop. Victor…

…It’s not a pleasant thought.

“Hit… Her head?”

“Yeah. Imagine if you fell down the stairs and landed on your head, there’s a chance you’ll forget your name and the people you knew.”

“If you fall down the stairs you forget everything?!”

“Um, well, not all the time. You might be a bit dizzy and hurt, but it's rare.”

He thinks. For all he knew, banging his head on the door could completely floor his brain. Like stubbing a toe, except somehow worse.

“Scary… I don’t want to forget anyone.”

“Yeah, so imagine her situation. She’s clearly scared and she doesn’t seem able to remember her name or even her family. Imagine finding yourself somewhere you don’t know and you don’t even know your own name or anyone else. Think how scary that would be for you.”

For a moment, Hop looks away, thinking deeply and softly humming in thought. Finally, he nods, just as the sniffles die down in the kitchen.

“Mmm… It sounds scary. I’m sorry I called her silly…”

“Hey now, you didn’t mean anything malicious, you were just misinformed, that’s all.”

Hop doesn’t respond, focused on the kitchen door, deep in thought.

----------------------------------------

“Okay sweetie, the gauze is all properly applied now. Does that feel better?”

“U-Um, yes. Th-thank you…”

“So polite! Here, have an Oran Berry, it’ll help with the pain a bit. It’s supposed to be for Munchlax, but we have a lot more in the garden. There’s also a glass of water for you.”

Munchlax makes an offended noise.

Although the girl seems startled at the sight of the berry in Margaret's hands, she takes it with some hesitancy and stares at it for a few seconds before taking a small nibble. Her eyes widened, quickly moving to wipe the juice running down the corner of her lips before shoving the rest in her mouth.

She wasn’t expecting it to taste good and the juicy flesh under the skin did wonders for the dryness in her mouth. She vaguely recalls these berries were capable of healing a tiny amount of health in the games, and already she can feel her stinging back hurt a little less.

She can’t help but be surprised. And takes a massive gulp of water to finish it off.

“Mh!”

“Oh, you poor thing. You must be hungry, right?”

“Mnhua-” She coughs. “S-Sorry. I don’t feel t-too hungry, miss…”

“Well, regardless, feel free to ask for more. We've got a full bowl right here. These are Oran Berries, they help make wounds go away faster. Taste nice too.”

“Th-thank you…”

Martha hums. “Do you remember anything?”

No, not too much, the girl thinks nervously. What would be the best thing to say? Surely she can’t just casually mention that she comes from a world where Pokemon is an extremely popular fictional franchise and that, embarrassingly enough, she can remember a tiny bit more of that series than she can from her actual life.

Why she remembers being addicted to the sausage rolls from Greggs and not her own name is completely beyond her.

So, she tries to be honest, leaving out the more important, insignificant details that no one needed to know.

“U-Umm. I… Remember liking meat pies… M-meat-filled pastries and the like.”

‘Nailed it.’

“I… Suppose that’s something? But do you remember your name? Where you live? Your parents?”

“Nu-uh…”

“I see.” Martha bites her lip. “Looks like we might need to call the cops to file a possible missing child report, or even ask Professor Magnolia for advice.”

“...”

“Margaret?”

“O-oh, sorry. I was lost in thought…”

Martha sees the look on her face, staring at the child. There was an unreadable expression on her face, and Martha feels tense just looking at it because she knows exactly what that look is.

“Margaret-”

“U-um, mum?”

Before she could even get the second word out, Hop’s voice calls out nervously from the doorway, peeking his head out from the doorframe and eyes on the girl. “C-Can I ask her something..?”

“Hop, she’s a bit frightened right now, leave her be.”

“B-But-”

The girl squeaks, turning to face Martha and frantically waving her off and catching the both of them off guard. “O-oh no, I’m perfectly f-fine. No one is b-being a bother. I’m already in-intruding so…”

“Sweetie, you’re not intruding at all. And are you sure?”

“Y-yeah!”

Seemingly happy with her answer, Hop nervously scoots over to the table, stopping right beside it and gives her a nervous little wave. She blinks but returns the wave.

“U-Um…” Hop hides his hands behind his back as he rocks on his heels. “What do you like?”

“What do I… Like?”

“Y-Yeah! Do you like meat? Veggies?”

“Oh. Yeah, I like them.”

“What type?”

“Um… I like beef..? Bell peppers are nice… I also like spicy stuff.”

Hop cringes, sticking his tongue out with a ‘bleh’. “Ew, spicy.”

“Hop, don’t be rude.”

“Sorry, mum…”

Hop nods, mumbling to himself before smiling. “Okay, thank you!” And before anyone could even ask him about the out of nowhere and weird questions, he quickly leaves the kitchen, running up the stairs with heavy footsteps.

“Sorry about him, he’s just excitable.”

“It’s n-no problem… Kid- I mean… He’s just being nice.”

“Hop is a good kid, and so is Leon.” Margaret smiles. “They’re both sweethearts. You should get to know them more, although Leon is supposed to be leaving tomorrow to head to Motostoke for the Galar League. Oh, but Hop is still going to be here, you can-”

“...Margaret.”

Suddenly, it's as if the atmosphere in the room turned from warm to deathly cold. Martha’s tone held a hidden sharpness behind it as her eyes stared at the other woman with contempt, clicking her tongue under the roof of her mouth in annoyance.

The girl sees Margaret look away, hands scrunching up. Almost as if suddenly refusing to acknowledge either of them. For a moment she considers speaking up, to ask something, anything. But her words die in her mouth, and she stares as Martha lets out a quiet sigh.

“Sorry.” She apologises to her before turning to Margaret. “Margaret, a word in the living room, if you would.”

“...Right. Sorry, sweetie, we’ll be right back. Munchlax, stay with her, okay?”

“Munnnch…”

As they leave, Munchlax looks up at her, watching with curious eyes. She almost feels nervous, but she’s quick to realise what he wants. Chuckling, she reaches for a berry.

“Oh, you want a b-berry?” Munchlax nods eagerly, raising its paws up and commencing grabby hands. Drool runs down the hungry Pokemon’s chin. “Okay then~”

Munchlax eagerly bites it out of the air, gobbling it up in an instant. Before she entertains the idea of handing over more, Munchlax continues to make grabby hands, bouncing up and down on the claws of his feet and pretty much convincing her in an instant.

She tosses a berry.

Then another.

And another.

Each one is swiftly devoured, one bite, one swallow. There’s not even time spent chewing, Munchlax’s mouth was just big enough to swallow it whole. Was he even enjoying the flavour? She had no clue.

“Wish I could swallow food l-like that.” Another berry was tossed. She figures a few more would do, she doesn’t want to make the ladies angry from taking so many, especially if they find out that the berries weren’t even eaten by her. “Kinda like a c-cassowary a lil’ bit, swallowing berries whole.”

Perhaps there was a more suitable animal she couldn’t recall. But she remembers seeing them swallow whole entire apples without choking.

“Those are big b-berries too. How are you… Bah, shouldn’t really q-question it.” She curses, tempted to chew her tongue. “D-damn my stutter…”

“Munch?"

“One more?”

“Munch!”

“C-can I… If I give you this last berry, can I have a closer l-look at you?

Munchlax blinks, confused for a moment. Then he nods before reaching out as the last berry is flung into the air and catches it between its teeth. She pushes her chair out from under the table, ready to move onto the floor, but instead, Munchlax waddles over to her, grabbing her leg before attempting to climb up.

“O-oh wow you’re heavy!”

Like someone had strapped a half-full beer keg to her leg. Yet oddly enough, despite the sheer weight and the fact she felt like she was about to snap like a twig, Munchlax is able to climb onto her lap without breaking a single one of her bones nor scratching her with his claws.

Although now it just felt like she just had that same keg on her lap. Said keg was a Munchlax, facing her and looking up at her with a faint glimmer of curiosity and hope and a trail of drool running down the corners of his mouth.

“Okay-” She coughs. “Okay. I just want to…”

She gulps, arms suddenly freezing up. Why was she nervous now? It was just a Munchlax (a fictional creature) sitting on her lap (crushing her) with no intent of harm (could easily kill her) and was clearly curious (not safe). It wasn’t going to suddenly rip her arm off.

But it does take her a moment to finally register it.

A living, breathing Munchlax. Just chilling on her lap.

Wow.

Wow.

“Wow.”

Despite that pit of anxiety, she eventually does find herself brushing her fingers through the hungry Pokemon’s fur. It's soft. Fuzzy. Especially on the upper half. But as his fingers trail down, giving the Munchlax little scratches under his chin and going further down it becomes more coarse, more like hair. It wasn’t until she went below the waistline that she winced as a finger came in contact with something peculiar. Somewhat rough to the touch. Smooth, somewhat rectangular.

Whatever it was, Munchlax huffs and pulls away slightly. Clearly not happy with her touching whatever was hiding in there.

“...Food?”

He nods with a grumble.

“I… Vaguely recall that Munchlax keeps food in their hair for st-storage.” She cringes. “Please t-tell me that’s fresh.”

Thankfully, he nods, and she feels that bubble of fear vanishes into relief. The mere idea of touching rotten food was enough to make her gag.

“Okay, I’ll leave that alone then. Would you be o-open to more chin scratches?”

Munchlax nods eagerly. And it doesn’t take long for him to melt under her touch. He purrs like a cat, leaning into her touch and it makes her feel amused. Pokemon. Wow.

What a sensation this was. Joy? Yes, that’s the best word for what she felt.

Joy.

Something clicks, loud and strong inside her head. It slides into place like a piece of something and she remembers.

A piece of memory.

She reaches for it.

There was a person before her and their features remained clouded and unseeable, familiar, whose name she could just vaguely recall at the tip of her tongue before it shattered into pieces. No matter how hard she tries to remember, the person never revealed its likeness to her, even as it spouts a jumbled mess of static with a voice so distorted it made her head ring.

But the thought of not remembering them somehow made it worse.

And she didn’t know why.

“...”

It had been like the sudden shattering of a mirror, so loud it hurts her ears and so sudden her heart pounds. The pieces scatter around and suddenly she’s on her knees, picking up the pieces in hopes of putting them all back together.

Groaning, she pinches the bridge of her nose as the noise dies back down. She thinks she hears Munchlax let out a noise of curiosity, but it mixes in with the static and doesn’t quite register it until she feels him prodding at her arm. In concern? Maybe.

“Sorry… Head hurts…” She huffs. She does feel some amusement when she feels Munchlax pat her head in an attempt to comfort her, and damn it, it warms her heart.

‘Just…’

Why is she here? Why were her memories such a mess?

Minutes pass.

Friends.

Food.

Feast.

Celebration.

Enjoyment.

Games.

Research.

Stress.

Comfort.

Little fragments here and there. Slowly coming, one by one.

“Ngh… I wonder what’s taking those two so long?” A distraction from the ache. “Hey, Munchlax? Want another berry-”

“VICTOR IS DEAD, I KNOW THAT!”

Margaret’s scream could be heard throughout the house like thunder on a silent day and it startled her from her thoughts, making her jump and damn near sending Munchlax tumbling off her lap. Her heart hammers, and what follows is a deathly silence. She thinks she can hear the squeak of a door opening upstairs, but it's all muffled by sobbing. Quiet, ugly sobbing.

And it grabs Munchlaxes attention. His expression full of worry, he waddles out of the kitchen and she follows suit, curiosity itching as they peek into the living room.

What she sees is Martha, her expression strained, and the back of Margaret, repressing sobs and hiccups. She doesn’t dare intrude. Only listen.

“You- You think… You think I don’t know that..?” And Margaret's voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper. “You think I don’t… Know that my own baby boy is gone forever? Do you think I don’t have to deal with the fact that all of my family is gone? My nest has been long since empty, my husband-” She chokes. “My baby boy was all I had left. You know that. You fucking knew that. I treasured him more than anything else in the world. Don’t you dare fucking say that he was nothing more than something that can be easily replaced, you goddamned cunt.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Martha. Just this once. Shut. Up.”

The stairs quietly squeak. None of them notices despite the utter silence. People's breathing felt like thunder to her ears and she thinks that Leon and Hop were beside her, listening to the conversation. But she finds herself too focused to care.

“No one could ever replace Vic, no one. And I want to go back to those days, I would have happily trapped myself in a time loop so that he would never leave. But I can’t… I fucking can’t. I have to move on like everyone else, the world cannot make exceptions. And I tried, I tried so fucking hard to do. But it hurts when everything reminds me of Vic. Looking at Leon and Hop reminded me of him the most, and I- I just couldn’t-”

She breathes. Inhale heavy, exhale shaky.

“I’m not the only one suffering, I know that… But Vic was my everything. An individual. She is her own individual, a person like everyone else. Not a replacement. I never considered her that. I considered her a child who needed help. I’ll even help find her goddamn family if I have to, no loving family should ever, EVER, lose their child, no matter how young or old they are. But if that family didn’t exist, if that family abandoned her… I…”

Silence.

“She needs help. No child should be without a loving family, if I have to be that loving family, so be it.”

“M-Mum..?”

Both of their heads shoot to the doorway, eyes widening to see the kids looking at them with emotions ranging from fear and concern. While the girl looked nervous, trying to avert her gaze, Hop looked teary-eyed, hands clutching onto his Wooloo plushie while Leon-

Had a very, very bitter expression on his face.

“Why-” Hop whimpers. “Why are you screaming at each other? It’s scary…”

“H-honey, we weren’t-”

Leon scoffs, mood noticeably dampened. “It at least sounded like one of you was.”

“...I’m sorry.” Margaret sighs, inhaling deeply and wiping her face of tears with her sleeve. Munchlax waddles up beside her, gently nudging her leg with his head which causes her to adopt an ever so faint smile. “I didn’t mean to get so loud-” The tone in her voice was anything but honest. “I was just angry, that’s all. I’ll be leaving in a moment, next time you see me I’ll be wishing Leon the best of luck on his journey before he leaves tomorrow. After that, I’ll be looking for this girl's family.”

There’s no response, and Margaret doesn’t bother waiting for one. She turns on her heel sharply, turning to leave before facing the girl with a gentle, if not strained, smile.

“Sorry about that sweetie…” This time, she sounded genuine. But it doesn’t do much to remove the sudden ball of anxiety that was forming in her gut. “Here, it's getting late. Would you like to stay over at mine for a bit? Like a sleepover. After that, we can visit Professor Magnolia. She’s a kindly old lady that lives a bit away, but with her help, we can find your parents.”

“...O-Okay…”

Her back stings, the wound itching.

The girl is unsure when Margaret extends her hand out to her, but with a nervous gulp, grabs onto it and begins to follow her outside. Never gathering the courage to look back, her anxiety never allowing her.

But the tense atmosphere was mostly gone now, that much she was glad for. She finds herself oddly comforted when Munchlex gently grabs onto the leg of her raggy sleeve and follows from behind. Yet…

‘R-R-R-Rrrrriiiiing!’

“Ah, that’s my- Give me a moment sweetie.”

‘R-R-R-Rrrrriiiiing!’

‘Phone call! Phone call-’

Beep!

“Who- Ah, Professor Magnolia, hello!”

The voice on the receiver was too muffled for her to hear. Perhaps she could just barely make out an older lady’s voice on the other end, stern and no-nonsense. It was someone Margaret listened to intently it seemed, nodding and biting her lip as she waited for her time to speak.

‘If I have to be that loving family, so be it.’

“Yes, I’m very sorry Professor Magnolia. I promise you can yell at me and Leon all you want tomorrow. But I need to tell you something-”

She explains everything. From why they went into the Slumbering Weald (a name that sounds awfully familiar to her but cannot remember), the fight that happened and discovering her, Margaret’s hand clenching around her own when she talks about it the last subject.

“So, I was wondering if I could ask for advice. About what I should do-”

Silence.

“H-Huh? Why- Why not at an orphanage?” A pause. Margaret looks concerned, her tone trailing off in confusion. “Is something wrong- What, no I wasn’t… Okay, no orphanage or foster home. Got it. But- Okay, thank you, Professor Magnolia. You’re coming over tomorrow? Got it, thank you again, sorry about bothering you with this, you must be very busy right now… See you tomorrow.”

Click.

Margaret lets out a strained sigh. “Okay, not sure what that was about…”

“M-Miss?”

“Oh- Sorry sweetie, that was Professor Magnolia, the kindly woman I mentioned earlier. We’re going to have a chat with her tomorrow, and see if we can look into finding your parents. For now, we’re going to have that sleepover. How does that sound?”

“...Okay…”

“I know you’re scared. But… You gotta be brave for now, okay? We’ll find your parents. Don’t worry.”

Easier said than done, she thinks. She had no family here. No one on this planet knew her and she knew no one. The chances of people believing her were slim to zero and the paranoia of something bad happening if she ever dares to say was creeping up onto her. Pokemon? Wonderful. The people? Maybe not so much. What on earth would happen to her if word got out that she came from another world?

Bad things. Surely. Nothing good at all.

But what was she supposed to say?

Accept a possible adoption from Margaret? That sounded potentially dangerous.

“Sweetie?”

Margaret’s voice snaps her from her thoughts. The woman has a thoughtful look on her face, eyes somewhat distant as she squeezes her hand once more.

“I know it hasn’t been long since I last asked this, but…” She hesitates. “Do you recall your name at least?”

The girl wants to say yes.

She wants to have the ‘eureka’ moment when she suddenly remembers her name. Like a quick pang of pain or a sudden series of realisations that make her want to cheer out in victory. Yet none of that happens. Her name remained a mystery to herself and it was beyond infuriating.

Margaret’s eyes soften when she shakes her head, the girl trying not to come off as too frustrated, although judging by her expression, it didn’t work.

A pause. They were now by the front door to Margaret’s house, and she could smell something a bit off inside that caused her to wrinkle her nose. Like trash.

“Well-”

“Miss Margaret!!!”

A familiar voice calls out to them and they both turn to see young Hop running up to them with a large box of pizza in hand that the young boy was somehow able to carry, despite jostling them around somewhat. Leon was not far behind, catching up to his younger brother as Hop slows down to a halt before the girls, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Um, pizza arrived! I wanted to, uh, give this to you!”

“M-Me?”

After a moment, the girl cautiously accepts the box from the young boy with a quiet ‘thank you’ before having a peek inside. Half of a fresh pizza, a thin crust that was heavy on the cheese and tomato sauce, covered in beef, bell peppers and jalapenos. Not only that, there was a pile of doner kebab that took up the other half of the box, mixed in with curly fries and several pieces of chicken wings. All of it was covered in a sauce she couldn’t recognise.

The perfect type of junk food to completely indulge in when one was feeling down. All of it smelled delicious, and her stomach let everyone know what she felt about it.

“Oh, this is…”

“Hopscotch here wanted you to feel a little more welcomed,” Leon explained, gently ruffling Hop’s hair and causing him to pout. “He said he asked you what you liked and wanted to get you a pizza.”

“Th-thank you!”

“I also gave you some of my kebab and chips!” Hop adds with a smile. “‘Cause everyone loves a nice kebab!”

“Well… Everyone in Galar.”

Although the temptation was very much there, the girl resists the urge to snort. How nice to know that, despite suddenly being in another world, she ends up in a region where everyone loves kebab, doner in particular it seems. For all she knew though, these two kids are just overexaggerating how much people love the stuff.

Or she was wrong and they were completely right. One or the other.

But now she finds herself confused.

‘What on earth was the doner kebab? Lamb? But this was Pokemon, did they have animals?’ She doesn’t recall any such thing ‘…Were they eating Wooloo?’

She supposes that makes sense.

“Thank you…” She mumbles. “I v-very much appreciate it.”

“Heheh~ No problem, mate!”

“Okay then. Hopscotch? C’mon, let's head back before mum yells at us and bans us from our own takeout. We have a feast to take part in!”

“Yay! Feast, feast!”

With a very happy pep in his step, Hop follows Leon back to their home, leaving the girls behind. The girl cannot help but snag a fry before closing the box, gobbling it down and letting out the happiest of sighs at the taste. Still hot, and fluffy with a crispy outside. Just enough salt to enhance the flavour and not drown it.

‘Oh my god… That tasted divine~’

It tugs at her mind. Briefly, she can recall a time when she had fries like this. Cheap to buy, yet simply better than anything else.

Then the store went under new management, and the quality of everything became worse while the prices rose.

She remembers being very sad about it for a good while.

…What was even her life like before she forgot? Would it even be worth entertaining the thought of going back? Especially when this was the world of Pokemon? Was there anything that she would miss? Anything she needed?

Was there anyone she would leave behind?

Was there anyone who would miss her?

“Sweetie..?”

Margaret calls for her again, voice and gaze distant in thought for a moment, and the girl wonders what was so ingrained in her mind for her to constantly be in thought so much. But she looks at her, her gaze strong.

“Until you remember your name… Would you like a new one? At least for now?”

That catches her off guard.

A new name?

‘...It would make sense,’ she thinks. ‘Less awkward for everyone trying to talk to me, something I could label myself until I remember.’

She doesn’t want to be known as ‘the girl’ forever.

And it wasn’t like she was replacing whatever her old name was. This was just a temporary one, she reassures herself. Something temporary. Right?

“I… Would l-like that.”

Margaret’s smile becomes soft before her face scrunches up in thought. She reaches to open the door, clicking the lock open.

Then, she pauses.

“Gloria.”

“Huh?”

Margaret’s mouth moves, but no words come out before she bites her lip almost out of frustration.

“Gloria.” She repeats again. “Like the word, ‘glory’. I think that’s a good name, but of course, it’s up to you, sweetie.”

‘Gloria.’

‘Glory.’

The name was familiar. It tickled her mind, teasing her with a memory that she feels should be there, but never comes.

‘Gloria. Gloria.’

“Sweetie?”

She hums.

“That’s…”

Gloria smiles.

“That sounds nice.”