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Chapter 1:

The Shift

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...

The moment he stirred awake somewhere in the middle of the woods and fumbled for his jean button to pass water, Meagan knew something was wrong.

In place of the denim, a smooth, white organic silk-like film glided over his finger; stranger yet, the tingling from its touch made it seem as though it were an extension of his skin.

In groggy confusion, Meagan lowered his gaze to his crotch and blinked several times as he struggled to process the blaring differences such as the bluish cyan, orange, and white skin tones…But most horrid of all was the missing of something very particular and what replaced it.

When realization struck, all the foreign physical sensations came crashing down like a landslide.

He screamed, "Where's my di—"

His shock overloaded his system and petrified his nerves. In a moment of desperate self-preservation and terrorizing wonderment, his mind flashed back as far as it could to at least several hours ago...

...The street crowd whooed and ahh-ed as a venusaur's vine whipped through the twilight air and cracked across a granbull's face, sending him flying and smashing through a brick wall, and leaving a crumbling gap resembling its shape.

He did not get up. After a brief silence followed the last clattering of falling debris and a sigh in disappointment, a whirring red beam of light shot into the hole, retrieving the familiar photonic shape of the defeated pokémon, and returned it to a spherical device.

In contrast, the hulking dino-plant's trainer hummed a laugh at his opponent, "And that's the end." He outstretched his hand and his opponent made to shake it, but he chortled as he retracted his limb and shook his head. "What, are we suddenly bum-chums or something? Get real."

Most of the crowd laughed and giggled, notably the girls.

The man instead rubbed his index with his thumb to emphasize his real intent. "Nah, mate, you're supposed to pay up after losing."

"Oh." The trainer sheepishly withdrew his hand, eliciting further laughter from the crowd, and instead drew his pokédex—

"No, no. Cash. Green."

"W-what? Isn't that illegal for pokémon battles?"

The man facepalmed. "Clearly, you're not used to street battles," he said, rolling his eyes at the innocent teen. "Listen, if it wasn't obvious already, this was an unofficial battle off the record, and, as it so happens, unofficial battling in the street is illegal too. If we exchange credit here with the dex', it'll record the location, and the system will track us here proving our involvement. But with cash, those problems are moot. Get it now?"

"B-but I don't have any cash," stuttered the teen as he winced and shied his gaze away.

The man clicked his tongue in annoyance, but then sighed and raised his arms in an exaggerated shrug to the crowd, "Well, what're you gonna' do, newbies, eh!?"

More jeering and laughter echoed through the street along with that of his venusaur who rumbled in amusement until the man cast a furious glare at the giant beast, "And what the fuck are you laughing about, plant?"

"Veenu?" The big grass-type grunted in confusion.

The man stalked toward the large pokémon and an audible crack resounded as he stomped on one of its toes, causing it to whine in pain, but it was silenced when he grabbed its bottom jaw and yanked its face to look into his glare.

"You should have handled that in a third of the time; that dog was nothing compared to Volkner's Jolteon." He released a vicious snarl at the beast, causing it to shrink back.

"I will not lose to him because of your shit work…Now get out of my sight." With that, he pushed the pokéball's button on his belt, and the grimacing venusaur shrunk into a photonic mass, returning to its ball.

No one spoke for a few moments.

The man produced a small metallic case from which he took a precut Carlotta cigar and lit it with a jet lighter, taking a drag and turning back to the loser of the match.

"Listen, kid," he said, blowing a plume of smoke into his listener's face. "Friendly word of advice…Never put all your faith in anything or anyone. And in this case, I mean never turn all your money into digital credit, you gotta' have some mullah on hand for the rainy days, get it?"

Coughing and waving the smoke away, the teen nodded, "Right…but why, exactly?"

"Uh-uh. That first part's free advice out of my generosity. Nothin's for free in life. If you really want to know, you're gonna' have to pay up. Got anything sellable to trade, at least?"

"Uhhh…Oh, I have this stardust I found back from the caves!" He exclaimed as he pulled out a little sack from his bag.

The man smiled as he held out an open palm to receive. "That'll do nicely—"

"Stop right there, Hartlock!" called a strong feminine voice that could only belong to—

The crowd gasped and their nervousness permeated the street, but the man's smile persisted as he grabbed the little sack of stardust and spun around to face the blue-uniformed policewoman.

"Janiii! Babyyy, darling, radiant as always!" He greeted her in a smug fashion, flashing a lecherous look at her pearly legs before gazing back at her irritated visage with a grin. "How ya' been?"

She hmphed and crossed her arms. "I thought I smelled something rotten, of course, it had to be you."

"Aww, that hurts, Janny-girl." He laughed as he strolled toward her.

"It's officer Jane, to you, Hartlock, and I've just about had enough of your illegal street battles. You've probably piled up enough complaints and warrants to fill a whole file cabinet by now," she said as she jingled the set of handcuffs on her waist. "I think it's time to take you both in."

He only chuckled as he casually swung an arm around her neck while moving the sack with his other hand to her vision. He loosened the knot and opened the mouth of the sack to reveal red crystalline sand. "Aww, that's a shame, and here I was excited for the chance to gift you something, didn't want you to feel left out."

Her eyes widened for a moment before she huffed. "I could always get my own."

"Yeah, but buying them costs a pretty penny considering all the expenses involved, not to mention you'd have to spend even more to begin making use of them. And finding them always seems to be harder than chancing upon them. Law of attraction, serendipity, and all that jazz, you know?"

He moved the sand closer to her face as he played with her hair in subtle movements. "And you're always so awfully busy. I don't think they pay you enough."

Jane re-focused her gaze on the glimmering sand.

He continued, "But like this, half the cost is already covered. I bet if worked by a skilled craftsman—" his finger brushed her neck as lightly as a feather,"—they'd make a gorgeous red necklace to match the delectably fine skin of your neck," he purred into her ear.

She broke out of his embrace. "What about them?" she asked, sticking a gloved thumb at the crowd and the other trainer.

He laughed as he raised his arms at his admirers. "Good question! So what about you guys? Having a nice evening stroll? No trouble to be had…no police stations to be at?"

Like that, the crowd dispersed at a brisk pace, with his opponent power-walking away, leaving a few of the girls to ogle at him.

Jane snatched the sack from his hand while giving him a quick look up and down before turning away. "You're lucky this time it was me. With exception to Janyne, though I assume you've already squirmed your way into her favor, and a select few, you'll find most of my other sisters won't be as 'forgiving'."

He only hummed as he took another drag of his cigar watching her walk away, though she stopped. "But you're right…They don't pay us nearly enough to deal with upstart shits like you. The amount of paperwork and back alley bureaucracy it would involve would never be worth it. Your reputation on both sides makes them keep each other from touching you; how? I'll probably never know," she said with wonder in her voice. "However, I do know this…"

Officer Jane gave him a final side glance, with the lamposts casting a web of eerie shadows over her fine features.

"Your stardom won't save you forever; after all," she said, pointing to the dusken sky with a dark smirk breaking her features. "They say 'stars die every day', Meagan Hartlock."

Spooked for a moment at her odd words, the cigar's approach to his lips froze as he stared at her, mouth open.

Jane's sardonic giggle filled the alleyway as her heels clacked on the pavement, fading into the distance.

Meagan stood there pondering on the policewoman's sudden sadist disposition before he sucked the rest of his smoke stick and flicked it to the ground while cackling into the air at her little joke.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He noticed the three girls left from the crowd ogling at him. Settling down from his own bout of laughter, he approached them with open arms. "You don't think the same, do you, my lovelies?"

"No way! That old hag's just jealous!" said one.

"Yeah, you rule, Meagan!" said the other.

The third hooked her arm around his left, giggling away in abashment. "Don't listen to her, she's just a bribe-eating scavenger, she can't say shit."

He chuckled, waving the issue off. "Anyway, how's about we have some fun at the Red eye ridge? Drinks on me!"

The girls celebrated and latched onto his limbs in fanatic joy.

It was another typical night for Meagan Hartlock, a young man and rising star in the current year's gym circuit, and one of the highly favored to take the crown in the Sinnoh conference. He was quick to take 7 badges of the region and is currently aiming for the eighth.

Talent, fame, wealth, connections, and good looks; he had it all.

Of course, such a prestigious reputation didn't come without a trail of controversy and infamy left in his shadow, like the apparent ill-treatment of his pokémon, or his uncanny ability to have his way with the law, and more tales like so whispered from the mouths of those who claim themselves witnesses and victims of such, though they are largely ignored…and oddly quick to fall silent.

Though what wasn't a mystery to most was Meagan's tendency to boisterous and lecherous drunkenness whenever it suited him. Tonight, particularly, Meagan's habit rendered the Red eye ridge and his feminine companions far too blurry and a little too fast for his liking.

In his inebriated haze, he inspected his fifth rye whiskey glass for the evening, questioning the content of the local brew.

But his befuddlement only grew as in a distant corner filled with unnatural darkness, a set of eerie red eyes stole his attention.

Surely it had to be a joke, given the name of the locale, he thought. But the mind-shattering glare froze his spine over as it intensified with an ominous flash, and a screeching voice as horrid as an orchestra of razor claws screeching against metal, laced with the sound of hissing volcanic steam erupted into his mind:

"Your unquenchable feverish lust and conflagrant ego burn as brightly and bloody as the galvanic storms of the Othersea…Riveting are your inner conqueror's passion for battle and lascivious thirst for power cradled by violent depravity…"

What on Earth was this? Whose voice was it? Thought Meagan as every syllable uttered by the malignant entity stabbed at his psyche and drove him further into madness. He was sure he had checked his psycho-blocker this mornin—

"Given the right soil, the seed of bloodlust shall flourish…and you'll make a fine servant for my master…"

Meagan's vision flashed white before red and then blacked out…

...His flashback revealed nothing about the source of his predicament except abstract voices that kept eluding his memory, as though even in the unreachable past they had a will that surpassed the conventional understanding of time and refused to be remembered. One might as well be chasing their own shadow up a wall.

Meagan's confoundment turned to anxiety when even the sound of his voice was far too light and shrill to his real and usual voice, which made things worse especially considering what he was missing...

His vision shook with panic as the dawning sun revealed more of himself, such as the bluish-cyan tridactyl limbs that weren't his yet moved like they were in place of his human pentadactyl limbs.

His legs trembled and he couldn't register his toes or feet, of which he had none, and when that crossed his mind, he yelped as he tripped to the damp forest floor as though he had forgotten how to walk.

Noticing a pond further up, he tried getting up but toppled over again.

"Fuck!"

Growling at his situation, he crawled his way across the damp ground, bringing himself to the water's edge to see his reflection…and he suddenly wished he hadn't.

Meagan's shriek in abject horror echoed all around the forest, sending pidgey and the like fluttering away in fright.

He heaved in desperation, and the anguish along with his confusion and utter despair seized his lungs. His nerves were a turbulent asphyxiating mess underneath this new skin as he beheld the reflection that moved in sync with him.

Meagan slapped the water, disfiguring the image temporarily, and hoped it was all just a hallucinatory byproduct of his hangover from a spiked drink last night…But soon enough, the water returned to normalcy, and still…

The shiny Gardevoir gazed back at him.

Her face contorted into puzzled terror as she ripped at her features in hopes it was a very life-like suit someone had shoved him into as a hangover prank.

As soon as she yanked on her ice blue hair, soft like a maiden's, Meagan grimaced in pain. The same action repeated for her smooth alabaster skin, her spiky ear-like protrusions, and the dress-like extensions flowing from her waist downward.

When she tried pulling on the crest protruding from her chest, which was the same hot amber as her eyes, the sensation was almost nothing like Meagan had ever experienced. Though it was a poor comparison, it was akin to when one would bump or press hard on the funny bone near the elbow, except it was on the chest, with the intensity of it multiplied by a factor of ten.

Nothing came off…and Meagan had a strange awareness of several entities around him, almost like barely audible whispers coming from all directions. Some were louder than others. He could even, to some degree, detect…emotions? Intentions? Anger? Fear? Excitement?

It was like when one could almost feel, by some evolutionary leftover of a primal instinct, the energy of a person abruptly shifting in demeanor…except this was also bumped up by several magnitudes.

Meagan couldn't comprehend it further than these crude comparisons.

And with those extra sensory observations, Meagan realized to his horror that this wasn't a costume…

He had somehow become…

No. It couldn't be, he thought. There had to be an explanati—

"Ah, there you are, Celeste!" came a cheery light voice laced with concern.

Meagan whirled around to find a normal greenish kirlia, though malnourished to the point of her ribs poking out with permanent lethargy around her red eyes. She gazed at him in worry.

It wasn't as though during his career he had never encountered telepathic pokémon who spoke to him through the mind, but he was certain that this kirlia just spoke orally, meaning he understood its language…

"Are you alright?" Asked the kirlia as she floated toward him. "I heard you scream twice now and made my way over as quickly as I could."

Again, it definitely spoke out loud and he understood every word of its pokéspeak. This all but sealed it. Either this was an extremely vivid nightmare, or…he really did become a—

The kirlia came to a halt and gave him a look over.

"Why are you so cautious? Your wavelengths are quite erratic and turbulent. You look at me as though I were a stranger. Calm down, it's me, Alis!" She gestured to her own face as though it would make some difference.

"A…Alis…?"

A torrent of foreign memories flooded Meagan's mind…

A grand forest valley; a city of huge, knotted ancestral trees dotted with the ralts line hidden within, and in the outskirts of the city where the trees thinned and shrunk was a town of shacks made of branches and leafage.

'She's a cursed-mon! That's enough of a crime as it is!'

She cried as her progenitors and siblings only watched while she was taken away. But the utter disappointment and regret on their faces and wavelengths made her surrender to the situation.

'Her existence is a blight on our society.'

'Either send her to the 'exile labor camp' or banish her from 'Elreino' altogether!'

'I suppose it would be wasteful to just simply discard her…Very well, the council is in agreement…'

The small burrow-like shack on the side of a barren hill of dust and rock allotted to her contained several other residents. Two of them were more excited to have her than the rest, being Kirlias themselves like her, one a male and the other female. Though the male seemed to be on the border between shrinking away in shyness and exploding with excitement.

'Greetings, new—' began the female kirlia but stopped as her normal red eyes widened at the sight. 'Oh wow…' And the staring began.

Celeste expected the rejection, the jeering, or the fearful expression anytime now—

'—You have such lovely colors!' the kirlia exclaimed with absolute fascination brimming on her face, akin to the male's expression.

It was the first time such kind words were directed at herself. It was so bizarre that she wondered if it were a joke and at any second now she would begin to humiliate her.

'Oh Sorry! Got carried away! Erhem…Greetings, new fellow housemate, and fellow Kirlia! I'm Alis!'

Alis gave her a surprise gentle hug, a genuine gesture out of respect and real excitement she never received from her original progenitors and siblings. It was…warm. Genuine emotional vibrations emanated from her.

Alis released her and pointed to the other Kirlia who, according to his oscillations, wanted to hug her the same, but kept stopping himself.

'And the shy one here is my brother, E—'

"Alis," confirmed Meagan absentmindedly, left in a temporary trance from the sudden influx of memories that weren't his own…What did this mean?

"Yes! That's right!" cried Alis in gladness before gazing at her in wonder. "So what happened? And why are you on the ground like that?"

It was either play along with this nightmare and not risk suspicion to avoid potential conflict or run away…of which the latter was currently impossible with the stupid, pointy, footless stalks that apparently passed as legs.

"I, um, feel sick…?" said Meagan with a sheepish wince, certain that a psychic entity wouldn't buy such a stupid exc—

"Oh no! What is it that you feel? I suppose that would explain the odd frequencies I detect from you."

Not letting his dumbfoundedness at how easily she bought the excuse get in the way of his thought process, Meagan quickly slapped together a plan to get out of this insane predicament, though it would be tentative according to how things played out next.

Meagan glanced at the concerned Kirlia, putting on a show of discomfort, which wasn't hard considering his current feelings about the situation.

"I…I'm not sure. I can't describe it…Could you help me up, please?" He asked, raising an arm, irked anew at his initial unfamiliarity with the strange appendage.

Alis gladly helped him to his near-proverbial feet, though he wobbled again.

"Why aren't you hovering? Have your psychic abilities been affected?" asked Alis.

"Uh, yes. Yes, they have…My mind is muddy and unfocused…so much so in fact," he lied, giving the kirlia the most pitiful look he could muster. "That I seem to have forgotten how to hover…Please don't laugh."

Bewilderment pooled in the kirlia's eyes. Perhaps he stretched the tale too far?

Alis' eyes widened in alarm. "Oh dear, that must be some sickness. Just relax and breathe," said Alis as she waved her arms from her chest in an arc until her palms rested at her belly. "And then channel your energy to your center while thinking of hovering. Much like how your mind instructs you to move your body."

This almost sounded like something one would hear at a yoga session, but he did as instructed despite finding difficulty in relaxing from all the transpired events. He closed his eyes to help himself concentrate.

After a few moments, suddenly he was aware of a strange immaterial extension of his brain, as though he had long-term paresthesia and had only just remembered the phantom limb was there, though painfully restrained like a muscle cramp. He tried loosening its tension.

The weightlessness made him open his eyes and his feet were off the ground. He couldn't believe it, he was actually floating like a psychic!

However, his celebration and only hope of anything improving his situation came to an end as gravity took hold once more—"Shiiit!"— and threw him back to the mossy ground face first with a plop.

Alis gasped. "Celeste! Are you ok?"

"Ow…" He groaned in response, pushing himself up and wiping the grime off his kind-of-noseless-but-not-really face.

Alis extended her green hand, "Let me help you up—"

"No!" Meagan slapped away the appendage in a sudden rush of anger. "This can't be happening to me! Everything was perfect! Everything was just fine! Why did I have to be turned into a freak!? This isn't fair!" he roared, willing his rage at anything and everything around him.

The water of the pond abruptly peeled away from the bank and curled into a wave, splashing over to the other side before trickling back. Likewise, the grass and moss ripped themselves off the ground, flinging out in an arc before falling with a hiss.

"This…This isn't fair…" Meagan repeated as his chest shuddered and water blurred his sight.

Now this was just pathetic. He was never known to cry even in the hardest of times. Grown men didn't cry. So what the hell was this?

Meagan gripped the moss between his six fingers in fury, growling and seething, ready to release another outburst, until Alis wrapped him in a tight embrace and nuzzled his cheek with soothing reverberations coming from the red crests of her head.

"It's ok, Celeste, my friend," said Alis with gentle mirth in her smile. "We will work through this together. I am sure this sickness will pass, and if it doesn't, then we can ask one of the elders for advice; perhaps on a cure. Ok?"

To his disbelief, Meagan found himself calming down, as though a soft cloud of comfort progressively dampened the fire of his panicked frenzy.

Unable to resist her caring and inviting vibrations, he hugged her back. Was this some kind of pokémon move? Charm? Disarming voice?

Whatever it was, it was effective…Alis was clearly a good friend to whoever was the owner of this body…

Though one thing (besides everything else about the situation) bothered him…

Being psychic typed, shouldn't this kirlia have read his mind by now?

"By the way," said Alis, interrupting his thoughts. "I know we shouldn't enter another kindred's mind without permission, especially those dearest, but I was concerned, and…"

He froze.

Alis pulled away slightly and observed him. "Who is 'Meagan'?"

"..."

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