Chapter Text
*Click click*
Not much can be seen while in the pitch black emptiness of the void, especially for a lone human drifting along in the middle of it. He looked down at his body, the only thing he could see, as everywhere else had nothing at all. Yet in some way, it all seemed familiar to him, a sensation that he barely recognized. Is this a dream? Is he dead? Is this some prank pulled by a psychic or ghost? He looked around to get some semblance of what it could be when he was answered by a flickering light in the distance. It was faint, yet within reach.
*Click click*
He drifted towards the illuminated source and reached out to touch it, only for it to drift away from him and give chase before it could get too far. In his pursuit, the human could hear voices coming from all around him, making him want to catch up to the light even more. He didn’t know what they were saying, but the atmosphere made him feel unpleasant, and reaching this light would aid in making those voices silent. A surge of spite and desperation began to arise as he saw his goal get smaller, and the voices growing louder. He didn’t like this, he could feel the hostility and disdain despite not knowing what they were saying to him.
*Click click*
Now the human struggled to keep up, trying his best to reach his destination, only for it to get further away with each passing second. This made him want to get away from the void more than getting to where he needed to be, but that only made the experience worse for him. Now he can understand what the void was telling him, and he hated that. His goal was within reach, why did it drift away from him? Why does he know where he is, albeit briefly? Why won’t these voices just shut up?!
*Click click*
Bursting his eyes open, a young man jolted upward from his bed, taking a moment to process what he’d just gone through with a cold sweat. A nightmare, he figured. Even though he could see that he was still in his bedroom, he couldn’t help but ponder on how real it felt. Way too freaky and out of place from what he usually goes through in his sleep. He couldn’t even remember the last time he actually dreamed. If his head can conjure something like that on its own, then what would happen if prerequisites were in play?
His train of thought was interrupted when he noticed what little light there was in the early morning through his blinds. Rubbing his eyes the man sat on the edge of his bed and looked at his alarm clock, flashing 5:09. "Fuck… The alarm didn't go off again. I'm gonna be late," he muttered to himself, whatever emotion he had before quickly diminishing.
This man's name was Max Elms. Tan skin, messy black hair, skinny-fat body figure, with a lack of proper posture, living in a modest town in his home region of Rados known as Ousa and working at the local supermarket. Despite being 22 years old, Max was unable to obtain the sustainable income needed to live on his own, forcing him to remain with his father for the time being. The many paychecks he’d receive from his day job weren’t enough to afford a house or apartment, let alone the many essentials an adult needed to live, meaning that he was here to stay whether he liked it or not.
"Damn. Haven’t had a dream like that before," He mumbled to himself. With a discouraged sigh, he put on his wrinkled, brandless clothing before heading downstairs. Passing in front of the living room, he saw his dad, out like a light in front of the flickering TV showing the morning news. Seeing as the electric bill was a hassle to help pay for, Max turned it off and left the house, not even stopping to make a quick morning snack. He’d just grab something from the break room or something.
He jumped on his bike and began pedaling to his workplace, going at an accelerated pace as he didn’t want to be late. The bright side of working the opening shift is that most people weren't up at this hour, leaving him alone in the streets. That, along with some of the few bug and flying type pokemon going about their own morning business along the streets. If there was anything he liked about his morning commute, it was the few wild pokémon that he’d see.
It took Max about five minutes to reach his workplace; Outlet Mart. He would stare at that logo in despondence as he locked up his bike before entering through the sliding doors. Another day, another dollar, he thought. Once inside, he passed by a middle-aged man wearing a more well-kept uniform and a nametag labeled “Ian” as well as the word “Owner” printed underneath it. This was the store owner and his boss, and he wasn’t pleased with the energy Max was showing, especially this early in the morning.
“You’re late,” he stated with disappointment, pointing to his watch for emphasis.
"By two minutes, it's not that big a deal," Max replied, sounding bitter about it while walking towards the back of the store.
Ian could only sigh in response as he began opening up the registers, as Max’s angsty nature was to be expected and he didn’t want to cause any more trouble already. Meanwhile, Max greeted the few other people working as he passed by them all either conversing or getting ready to stock up the shelves, to which he would receive some back in response. He had now just entered the back room, navigating past the industrial shelves and the freezer section towards the employee locker room to grab his work jacket, when he came across the only colleague he could somewhat consider a friend, Daniel. Unlike the others, Max has known him since freshman year of high school.
"Late again this morning, Max? That’s what, the third time this month? Sounds like a new record," Daniel quipped while pushing a cart of produce boxes.
"Don’t start, dude. My alarm didn't go off," he groaned as he tried to get into work mode, heading towards the time clock to start his shift.
"Mmhmm, now add that along with ‘getting distracted by a flock of vivillion’ and ‘puncturing your bike tire’," Daniel added with a subtle grin on his face.
Max didn’t like where this was going, so he tried moving on from the conversation. "Can you let that go already? It cost $50 to get my wheel fixed that day, and I almost got a concussion."
This warranted a shrug from Daniel. "Just saying man, there's always an excuse with you. Seriously, I’m just surprised the boss had put up with you for this long."
"Well, he should. If he’s gonna be paying me at minimum wage, then why even bother doing extra?" Max responded in disdain for his situation as he punched his employee number in. “Besides, I don't really have much of a choice in being here, and there’s nowhere to go in this part of Rados, so I’m stuck here.”
"Mmm, can’t say you’re wrong on that, but it could be worse, right? At least you got something going for ya. Just try to keep your shit together and make due with what you got, alright?" Daniel sympathized, giving Max a light pat on the back as a way to encourage him to do better.
"Tch, as if I wasn’t doing that already, Ghand-iel," Max scoffed as he glanced at the itinerary above the time clock of where he’ll be stationed.
With a chuckle, Daniel left to start working, and Max followed soon after. Like many, he didn't like his job all that much, feeling like he could be doing much better if he had the chance. He could never understand how Daniel was so nonchalant about it, as almost all the employees were just as underpaid for their work, and their boss being a stickler about everything. Ian would at least buy pizza for them every month so they would have a reason to like him, even if it was purely transactional. Out of all the coworkers Max had the pleasure of meeting, Daniel was the most tolerant out of all of them. They were either socially awkward or gave each other the silent treatment unless interacting with customers, leaving Max very few people to socialize with, if any at all.
Putting on his working jacket and switching his brain on autopilot, Max grabbed a cart of boxes to move to their shelf. It was just a day of work like any other. However, today was Thursday. What made Thursdays better than the rest of the week was that a girl would usually come by with her mother to shop in the afternoon. Max had a small crush on her, idly glancing at her pretty face when he’d get the chance. She’d ask him for help every so often, even striking up conversation to make the time go by. There were instances where he considered asking her to hang out with him after work, but would always keep it to himself so as to not jeopardize his “friendship” with her, if he would even call it that. Despite the many times she’s visited, he’s never even learned her name. This made him wonder about many scenarios where he did ask her out, which usually helps him get through the last half of his shift.
On this particular Thursday, he saw her later than usual, about one hour before the end of his shift. It was strange to see her alone this time around, especially given the fact that she looked to be in a hurry. Max glanced around to see if any other employees were around so he could approach her and ask what’s up. He set down his box of canned foods and was about to call out to her with some level of professionalism to avoid the awkward name situation, when suddenly he was tapped on the shoulder by somebody. He turned around and found it was none other than Daniel.
"I’ll take it from here, man. The boss wants to talk to you, says it’s urgent," Daniel told his coworker with a wider grin than usual.
"What’s with the happy face? Did Ian bring Alolan pizza again?" Max asked impatiently, in hopes of still catching up to the girl afterwards.
This got a chuckle from Daniel. "Ha, I wish. Pinap belongs on pizza, end of story, but no it’s not that. I trust you to keep a secret, but I’m gonna be promoted to store manager next week. Got my training handbook and everything."
If Max had been smiling, it would have dropped instantly. "Seriously? Why choose you over anyone else?"
Daniel crossed his arms but wasn’t bothered by Max’s criticism. "You say that like you got someone else in mind…"
"Well, you’re not exactly the fastest worker here-"
"Yet according to Ian, I’m good with people and getting things done right," Daniel interrupted him, which only served to tick Max off even more.
"He chose you, just like that? I thought you hated the guy, now you’re gonna be, what? His underling or some shit?" asked Max, trying not to let all of this get under his skin.
"Not exactly. It’s still his store, but I’ll be in charge of it while he’s handling all the office work. See, when I have a run of the place in his stead, there’s gonna be a lot of changes done here for the better. You could learn a thing or two from me, I’ll be sure to whip you into shape when the time comes," Daniel said with pride, gently tapping Max's shoulder before leaving. “Now get going, don’t want to keep that guy waiting. Might even be a pay raise in your future!”
"…Dick," Max mumbled. "Something about that guy, I want to hate him, but…"
After watching Daniel help out his unnamed crush a few feet away, Max headed to the back of the store, past the locker room towards the boss's office. He knocked on the door frame to make his presence known before entering, Ian telling him to close it behind him. Max took his seat and saw Ian typing up some things on his computer, his somewhat crowded desk littered with store guidelines and various other paperwork taking up space on the desk. "Alright, Max. Usually I let employees know ahead of time about these types of one-on-one meetings, but after assessing your performance and attitude for a while, I’m sorry to say that I’m not impressed. Not only have you been late more times this month, I’ve received complaints that you don’t make customers feel welcome when they see you."
"Look, what do you want me to do about the tardies? You asked me why that is, and I answered. I did almost get a concussion falling off my bike, the vivillion flock was kind of in my face, and my alarm didn’t go off when I set it last night," Max tried to justify to his boss, who only shook his head in disdain and sighed. “I don’t have control over this sh- stuff, stuff. What, you think I’m doing all of this on purpose? I don’t have much going for me as it is, so cut me some slack.”
"And then there’s the constant excuses for each incident. I don’t ask much from you, just that you follow the procedures and etiquette of our store, as demonstrated in the handbook you should’ve read when you first started," Ian explained somewhat impatiently, leaning forward into his seat.
"So you want me to pretend I’m having a good day? I’ll try, but it's not easy when assholes like to come in every day and make things harder than it already is," Max replied with a groan in his voice, slumping back in his seat. “If they want to start shit, why should I have to put up with it?
Ian made gestures with his hands to better explain the business model they must follow. "Because they are paying customers. They give us work, they give us income. No customers means no business, and no business means no job. Whether you like it or not, we need them more than they need us, therefore we will deal with any shenanigans they bring. Do I make myself clear?"
Max simply rolled his eyes at Ian as he asked that question, not caring about this lecture at all yet feeling uncomfortable about the criticisms. "‘We?’ I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you ever dealing with any teens stealing shit or old folk playing 20 questions on where to find stuff."
Ian smacked his palm on the desk just firm enough to grab Max’s full attention, silencing him for whatever fate awaits him. "This is exactly what’s brought you into my office in the first place. Your attitude is toxic, your pacing is slow, you let your foul language slip, and it is abundantly clear that you just don’t care for this job at all." He closed his eyes for a bit and let out a sigh, seeing that there’s no choice now. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to let you go, Max. Your time here is done.”
Max's eyes widened a bit as he wasn’t expecting that . A lecture and possibly a suspension at worst, but getting fired? "...What?"
"If you think it can’t be helped, then I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve given you plenty of chances to correct your mistakes, but it’s obvious that you don’t want to learn how to do things properly. Struggling in a work environment is one thing, but being unable to problem solve and move past those struggles is another. If you can’t manage that, then you have no future here.”
"Wait, I’m not even 3 months in, you can’t just—"
"I’m sorry, but you’ve forced my hand. Turn in your coat to the locker room and punch in your final hours so your last check can come in the mail. Now get going so I can find a suitable replacement," Ian stated in a neutral tone of voice before turning to his computer as if Max was already gone. “Best of luck to your future endeavors, Mr. Max Elms.
Feeling more anger than shock, Max angrily took off his worker coat and stormed out of the office. He didn’t even bother to look anyone in the eye as he exited the store, not even the other employees or his supposed crush, if she was still there. Muttering whatever curse he could wish upon his boss and the shortcoming of his life, he hopped on his bike and bitterly rode back home. "Fucking… Just fantastic. One mishap after another, now what am I gonna do? Why’d I have to be in this crap town anyways?"
Max had muttered his complaints to himself for the whole trip, not caring much for his environment. All he wanted to do now was crash into his bed and sulk, much to his dad’s wishes. Speaking of, how was he going to report this news to him? He didn’t have time to come up with a valid excuse, he was already home before he knew it. Leaning his bike against the porch railing and locking it, Max walked up the path leading up to the small, one-story house.
He was greeted with an unpleasant smell upon entry. Cigarette smoke and dust bunnies filled his nose along with a very visible sight of uncleanliness. Max’s dad wasn’t very good at doing house work or cleaning up after himself, then again neither was he. Organization was difficult, and he can’t remember the last time they’ve done some spring cleaning around the house. Speaking of his dad, Max saw him sitting at the kitchen table, glasses on while counting small piles of cash. "Couldn’t even last three months, huh?" Max's dad stated. "I hope for your sake, you have a damn good reason."
This caught Max off guard. "How did you- Oh, right. You two are friends, of course he’d tell you first."
"What, you thought they’d hire you with your work history? I told you back then, ‘graduate with grades above average, get into those internship programs after high school,’ but did you listen? No. I’m starting to believe that you’re allergic to work," Max’s dad ranted, calmly sitting down all his counted money to look at his son in disappointment. “Lazy ass.”
"Tch, how was I supposed to know that things would turn out this way? Besides, I never asked for your help, Dad," Max replied bitterly, knowing that he was right.
Mr. Elms stood up from across the kitchen table to establish his authority over Max, reminding him of the situation at hand. "And yet, you desperately need it because you can barely do stuff on your own. 22 years old, dropped out of college, fired from four different jobs now, and I still have to spoon feed you like some toddler. I’ve pointed you in the right direction, tried to take you under my wing-"
"I don't want to get into whatever shady shit you do to make money, Dad," Max interrupted, raising his voice in a feeble attempt to plead his case. “Your friend Dale kept eyeing me all weird whenever you have him over. I’ve heard some of the talks you two had, and I don’t care how much it pays, I’m not going into that line of work.”
"Money makes the world go round, boy. As long as it puts food on the table and pays for your shit, why should it matter where it comes from?" Mr. Elms explained in a neutral tone, looking down on his son through his glasses. “A man’s gotta do what it takes to provide, end of story.”
"So that’s it? Just throw away my moral compass to chase the green, that’s what you want from me?” Max asked defiantly, hating on the fact that his dad’s tone remains neutral, like he expected this to happen. “Also, since when do you pay for anything? I’m the one paying rent to stay here as well as any other shit I need."
Mr. Elms took the cigarette out of his mouth to puff some more smoke to the side before turning back to Max. "You should be thankful that I gave you a manageable rate, son. Anywhere else would ask triple of what you’re paying me now, then you’d have no choice but to ‘chase the green,’ as you just said."
"Well, at least I wouldn't be with some asshole of a dad who’s spouting about how shit his son is at life. When was the last time you said that you were proud of me?"
"Can’t remember. It was a long time ago, when you actually did stuff that mattered. Honestly, where did you go wrong? I told you to have some backbone as you get older, I didn’t raise my son to whine like a bitch 24/7."
"Tsk. Says you."
"You’re goddamn right, so listen well as I say this, since you’re so keen on doing your own thing in spite of your old man’s offers. Either you find a new job or make something of yourself by next week, or you’re out of here."
Oh no, not again. First getting fired and now this? What has Max’s life become? "Y-You can’t be serious-!"
"Boy, you know I don’t bluff. You’ve been mooching off my time and money long enough, squandering all of the opportunities I’ve given you. You don’t want to work with me, that’s fine. I don’t give a shit," Mr. Elms stated, sitting down to count the rest of his cash, continuing the conversation without so much as looking at Max. “Whether you do get a job or not isn’t gonna be my problem anymore, and don’t even think of trying to stay around Ousa either. If I catch you still hanging around this town’s streets after next week, I’ll have Dale and his buddies drag you out by force. You can do whatever you want from there.”
Max was flabbergasted. It was just one pile of mess after another, and not much he can do to change it. As much as he hated how his dad jabbed at all of his insecurities and flaws, he was right. That job at the market was the last chance at a somewhat stable living he could get, but it wasn’t his fault that things turned out the way they did. He shouldn’t have to get laid off just because of some trivial matters like dealing with annoying customers or being late a few times. Besides, the pay was the bare minimum to even warrant that kind of work ethic, how will the next job be any different? Even if he does manage to land an interview somewhere, one good look at his record and the employer will think twice about hiring him. No doubt that they’d probably call his previous jobs to get confirmation.
Not to mention that time is not on Max’s side. His dad’s looking at him again with that same neutral know-it-all expression he’s seen since high school. It’s as if he’s silently telling him to get out of the house and away from him already. Max hated that look. To him, it was a constant reminder that he wasn’t good enough no matter how hard he tried. All the times where he did the bare minimum was when the benefit was also minimum. He shouldn’t have to go above and beyond if it wasn’t going to be worth his while. The only problem was there wasn’t much of anything worth pursuing, even through the opportunities his dad showed him.
Max could feel his anger starting to get the better of him. His body was shaking and his control over his steady breathing began to dwindle in a desperate attempt to remain calm. His dad noticed this as he called out to him, interrupting him from this soon-to-be episode of pent up emotions. “Well? Are you gonna stand there and wind up homeless, or are you gonna take this kick in the pants like a man and do something for once in your life? This is the last time I’m gonna spell it out for you,” Mr. Elms calmly instructed, not even acknowledging Max’s presence right now with his back turned to him, yet knowing he’s still there.
Now a new thought came into Max’s mind that only served to fuel his anger, not daring to take it out on his dad but wishing he could, even if for a moment. Disregarding that he would only use it on himself, there was a time where Mr. Elms wouldn’t have to resort to such shady practices to make a living. Or show such discontent towards his own family. Max can understand if it was a case of tough love, but he hasn’t felt that “love” for years now. In fact, the only time he’d feel that was from…
“…So that’s how you want me to learn, Dad? Through trial and error at the expense of my livelihood?” asked Max, only to be met with silence. That proved to be the last straw for Max, not wanting to leave without having at least one final say in the matter. “I’m glad that mom’s gone, at least she doesn’t have to see how much of a shitshow this family’s become in her stead.”
Mr. Elms froze eerily at the mention of his wife. He slowly turned towards Max with an new, unsettling expression, one that was intimidating him heavily. “Choose your next words very carefully, boy. There’s a reason we don’t talk about her anymore.”
“W-Why not? Did she not mean anything to you?” Max asked, partially regretting his rash words yet showing a little bit of backbone to his dad. He could feel his gaze pierce through him, which made Max have more resolve as well as fear of what his dad was going to do to him now. “Everything used to be decent when she was around, so imagine how I felt when her lifeless body was found in that ditch outside of town. It’s been, what? Ten years since that day? Did you even care that she-?”
Mr. Elms suddenly interrupted Max by the sound of a fist slamming on the table, making him jolt back a bit while staying in place. “…This is your last warning, son. I dare you to keep fucking around,” Mr. Elms growled in a newfound malice towards his son. Even though he remained in his seat, he still managed to instill fear into Max from that position, despite the latter’s attempts to hide it.
A tense silence filled the room for a few moments before Max decided that it was time to cut his losses. “You know what? To hell with this. Since you’re so keen on getting rid of me, I’ll pack right now. Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end of some bullshit, is it?”
Mr. Elms said nothing as Max retreated to his room and heard him rummage through whatever belongings he had for the next few minutes. His eyes remained glued to that door leading into his son’s bedroom until he came out with his dusty old backpack filled with whatever crap he could find in there. No other words were exchanged between the two, not even a farewell as Max walked toward the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Mr. Elms simply let out a brief sigh before continuing his business in the kitchen.
Meanwhile with Max, he didn't even bother grabbing his bike and decided to just rough it on foot out of spite. He was so angry that he just picked a direction and kept walking until he could cool off a bit. His dad had no right to disrespect his mom’s memory like that, blowing it off like it was taboo to even mention her. He never even learned why that was the case, he was supposed to just take his word for it and move on.
This only made Max even more emotional, as it now dawned on him that he’s got no idea on what to do next other than find some way to calm down. Luckily, during his mindless wandering, he stumbled across one of the local pubs near the center of Ousa town square, the Humble Ducklett. He pulled his backpack off and rummaged through one of the pockets where he kept his life savings. It wasn’t as much as he’d like it to be, but he figured it would be enough to get by until he can find some other job, and that’s a major “if.” Seeing no other choice, he walked past the illuminated sign of a ducklett with a beer mug and into the establishment, immediately asking a waitress by the bar for a small iced kombucha. He didn’t purchase any alcohol as he didn’t want to feel worse than he already did, plus it was more expensive.
While it wasn’t the most pleasant of drinks in terms of flavor, Max read that it was supposedly good for his body and had gotten used to its bittersweet taste. He looked around the pub to find that it was somewhat busy with staff handing orders to customers and one of the bartenders shaking a drink for show at the other end of the bar. He could try to get a job here, though he seriously doubts they’d take him even as a dishwasher. Another sip of his kombucha and next thing he knew, he heard a familiar voice coming from behind, tapping him on the shoulder.
“What do we have here? Didn’t think you’d show up here of all places!”
Max let out a sigh, turning to his right to face Daniel, arguably the last person he’d want to talk to right now. “Hey man, what are you doing here?”
"Ian came to me at the end of my shift and told me that I can start training as his new manager tomorrow," exclaimed Daniel in glee, Max not exactly sharing in his enthusiasm. “If it all goes well, I’ll have that badge on me by the end of the week!”
"…Good for you man, are you done?" Max muttered, turning to stir his drink out of disdain.
"Well, that’s not the reaction I was expecting. I thought you’d be happy about my newfound success, dude," replied Daniel with a disappointed frown, a bit insulted by Max’s attitude.
This made Max groan in annoyance, turning his attention away from his drink to face his former coworker. "Well, can you blame me? I get laid off for things outside of my control, from a job that I’ve got no choice in working for that pays me in dirt, and the worst part? This was the last straw for my dad and he kicked me out as soon as I got home. Saying shit like, ‘Oh, I’m allergic to work and I need to man up from now on.’ Ugh, why am I even telling you this, it’s not like you’ll understand. Guys like my dad and Ian just piss me off to no end.”
Daniel went into thought for a moment in silence, taking in what Max just said, as well as his past actions in the time he knew him." Well, I can’t say that I know what you’re going through, but still, this all could’ve been prevented…”
“You can’t seriously be defending them,” Max scoffed.
“Hey, Ian may not be the best boss, which is saying a lot, but he’s given you plenty of chances to get your shit together,” Daniel answered sternly, hoping to get Max to see the error of his ways rather than just their boss’s. “I don’t like the guy that much either, but I still did my job correctly and got something out of it. Maybe it would be best if you did the same in whatever place you end up?”
“ If they even hire me with my kind of work history…” Max muttered bitterly, taking a chug of his drink like it was alcohol.
Daniel thought about prying further into Max’s situation, especially about his dad kicking him out, to try to offer some form of solace or advice, but it was clear that he was in no mood to share. Instead, he opted for the silent approach and simply provided Max some company. He even asked for a mocktail from the bartender so the two would drink in silence for a few moments. Max saw the gesture and made no reaction, but was internally thankful in knowing that he at least had one person in this town he was acquainted with, one that he considered a friend, or the next closest thing. “So, what do you plan on doing next? Gonna go back to college or try your luck at the workforce again?” asked Daniel after a couple sips of his mocktail.
Mas let out a sigh as his kombucha began to run out, looking around the pub to distract himself. “I don’t know, but given the circumstances, I might take my chances somewhere outside of Ousa. Maybe see if their pubs or bars are hiring, not that there’s stuff out there I’m actually good at.”
“What about being a pokemon trainer? Didn’t you tell me you wanted to do that at some point?” Daniel suggested, having just seen a lady walking outside the pub with a politoed to her side.
Max hadn’t heard about that profession in a long time, something that he has fantasized about from time to time. Ever since high school he would imagine what it’s like to have his own team of powerful monsters. Kicking ass in battles, keeping him company, making a name for themselves, the bond that they’d share. “I did, but I could never do something like that. You need to pretty much prepare for that career right after high school, as well as have a bunch of money saved up. In case you hadn’t noticed, I have neither,” he answered bluntly, now reminding himself of another missed opportunity at a successful life. “Not to mention that you gotta enlist in an academy, pass their exams, get your trainer’s license, find a lab to get a starter ‘mon, and then start with whatever little supplies they’ll give you. So yeah, pretty sure that ship has sailed for me. Too broke to even enlist anyways.”
Daniel nodded along as he listened to Max explain his predicament, but there was one part of his argument that he found a flaw in. He took another sip of his mocktail in an attempt to come up with another workaround. “That is a problem. They might not be as costly as a regular college, but those tuition fees are nothing to- Hey, wait a minute! You don’t even have to enlist in an academy!”
Max did a double take while being open to the possibility that this is too good to be true. “...Come again?”
“Yeah, no! I mean, it’ll be harder, but it’s doable!” Daniel exclaimed with newfound enthusiasm, even if Max can’t feel the same. “You know how there’s a standardized test for homeschoolers to get their high school diploma? That same kind of test exists for new trainers, too! All you gotta do is get this big-ass textbook from an official agency, study that, apply to take the test, pay a small fee, then bam! You’re an official pokemon trainer! You’ll even be allowed to get a starter by a licensed professor if you show them proof of your certification!”
“…And this is a surefire way to become a trainer? Like, legally ?” Max asked skeptically, both unsure and perplexed by how straightforward Daniel is making it all sound.
“To be fair, you won’t start out with the basic supply pack they usually provide for academy graduates, but it’s all legit!” Daniel stated while nodding his head, quickly looking around the pub to see if anyone was listening in. Probably to prevent anyone from butting in, Max thought. “Trust me, Rados hasn’t been doing well internationally as of late, and government officials are desperate in trying to bring in revenue for… fucking, whatever it is they wanna do to this region. So there’s pressure in getting new trainers to ‘revitalize their competitive spirit,’ and get at least a good showing when the world championship comes around, bringing in that sweet prize money. You follow?”
All Max could do was nod uneasily, already feeling that very same pressure Daniel described. “Okay, but what’s this got to do with me?”
“Dude, if there’s one thing you’ve talked about more than anything in the time we’ve known each other, it’s pokemon. Like, way too much, if you ask me,” Daniel answered with a slight deadpan, making Max scoff at the way he said it. “Which is good! You may not know everything there is about these powerful creatures, but you do like talking about them a lot. If you like them as much as I think you do, then this is a good fit for you. All you gotta do is study that textbook, learn how to take care and pander to their needs, and pass the test!”
Max looked down at his near-empty drink in despondence, wondering if he should go through with this. With his current circumstances, a lot of scenarios played out in his mind, all of which vary from realistic expectations to delusional fantasy. Should he take the chance, it could either blow up in his face, quite literally, depending on what wild pokemon he runs into… Or it could pave the way for a new opportunity in life. There was also the chance of it not leading anywhere, an endless cycle of struggles with no awards nor status to show for it. Daniel could see the internal conflict starting to brew in him. “…Do I even have a choice here?”
“Imma be real with you, it’s not like you got anymore to lose, and the way I see it, if you stick around with day jobs, you’ll be wondering about ‘what-if’s’ for the rest of your life,” Daniel responded rather bluntly. “I’ve already got what I’ve been working for, and I’m quite chill with what I got, so I say just go for it. You could be the new champion, you could fall flat on your ass with every pokemon encounter, who knows?”
Max drank what little was left in his kombucha, leaving only the ice cubes in the cup while taking in his friend’s advice. “…Why are you helping me out, man?”
“Hey, being a newly-promoted manager comes with wisdom, what can I say? Plus, you’re pretty much the only guy I like in this town, so that means tough love,” Daniel replied with a shrug of his shoulders, maintaining his nonchalant attitude, a gesture that somehow made Max chuckle.
“Heh, I want to hate you so bad,” Max jested, fidgeting with the cup and making the ice rattle.
“Good luck with that,” Daniel quipped in return, tapping his fist to Max’s shoulder. “Just think about it, even though time’s not exactly on your side. If you head to Werra town, there should be an agency that’ll hook you up with a textbook. It might look shady on the outside, but I blame our region’s poor spending for that. Especially around these parts.”
“Pff, ain’t that the fucking truth,” Max muttered, more to himself as he’s still unsure about going through with it.
Daniel had finished what was left of his mocktail and pulled out his wallet, leaving enough cash on the table to pay for the drink plus a tip for the waitress who served him. “Welp, I gotta get going. You should still have my phone number in that drug-dealer-cell-phone you’re rocking, if you still have it. Give me a call and see how things work out for you, or if they don’t. I’m not gonna be able to save your ass either way,” he stated after standing up to leave.
“Gee, thanks for the confidence boost,” Max replied sarcastically.
“No problem, dude. You take care, watch out for those wild ‘mons, I heard they can be aggressive!” Daniel called out as he approached the door, leaving Max to his own devices.
Deciding that the bar wasn’t a good place to get his thoughts in order, he too got up to leave, leaving only just enough cash from his backpack to cover the cost. Max walked through his small childhood town, taking the time to really think long and hard about what he wants to do with his life. Sure, it sucks that he won’t have a home to go back to and he’ll have to fend for himself, but on the other hand, he can do anything. His dad won’t be there to ridicule him on his mistakes or send him on any tedious errands. He won’t have to deal with any snobbish or annoying customers, nor have any manager throw a fit about what he should do for work and how. Max will be his own boss with his own schedule, and how he makes a living will be his full responsibility.
Battling wouldn’t be the only pokemon-oriented career path he could take, he thought. Gym leaders, private coaches, beauty contests, the possibilities were seemingly endless on that front. If anything, he could use the skills he’s picked up on this sudden turn of events to make his own business, or do something completely different from what everyone else does.
There is also the voice of doubt in his mind telling him of all the things that can go wrong. Embarking on a pokemon journey has many risks and regulations, as one doesn’t just go out and acquire a pokemon whenever one feels like it. As Daniel pointed out, one needs a trainer’s license to even have the right to acquire a pokemon of his own, and obtaining it is a hefty process as it is. Otherwise, he runs the risk of being arrested for illegal possession, among other problems. But if what he said about not needing to enlist into an academy was true, then that’ll mean that before any of that, Max will need to get that textbook.
It didn’t take long for Max to realize that he’d already reached the edge of Ousa, looking onward at the gravel road before him. For a moment, he hesitated, as if an invisible wall stopped him from advancing. It was only an empty pathway, however it was fear, uncertainty, the void of the unknown. To him it was such a huge sudden turn in his life that he wondered if he would regret it. The moment he sets foot outside these imaginary walls, whatever happens will be on him. He could die at any moment, while here, he was somewhat safe, comfortable in what he already knew. The more he hesitated, the more he was subject to change his mind.
Then again, it’s not like he can come back here anyways, he’d just be forced out all over again. Seeing no other choice, Max adjusted the straps on his backpack, braced himself for the road ahead, and took his first step. Suddenly, he felt alone and vulnerable to some extent, but also… free. It filled him with as much excitement and resolve as it did fear and uncertainty. Max was tempted to look back one last time, but refrained from doing so as it was against the idea of a new start. Max took the biggest breath he could before loudly exhaling. He grabbed the arms of his backpack and proceeded towards the unknown.
First things first, Max has gotta get to Werra Town to kick things off. Despite never setting foot outside of Ousa in ages, he knows that there’s a train station nearby that’ll get him there within the hour. He’s not about to start roughing it right away by traveling on foot for the whole trip, even if it did cost him a pretty penny. He couldn’t remember when train fares got so pricey, but after a quick count of his life savings, he should have enough to cover the fare, and hopefully the textbook. He probably should’ve asked Daniel how much it costs when he had the chance. Oh well, he’ll ask him later once he gets into town.
With daylight gradually turning into dusk, Max walked briskly to the small train station beyond Ousa’s county line. It took him half an hour, passing the many trails and lines of trees before the station itself came into view, which wasn’t anything impressive by his standards. A single, lengthy building surrounded by three different waiting areas and street lights was all there is to it, as well as a few other people waiting in separate benches. Not very busy either, which allowed Max to quickly acquire his ticket and sit on the closest bench.
A whopping $32.99 for an hour-long trip, Max thought to himself as the train finally arrived around forty minutes later. With the current time he’s making, a bolt straight for the agency would be the next course of action. For the whole trip, he’s done nothing but skim through the brochure of Rados he was given by the conductor. It didn’t contain much information about the pokemon trainer journey, just tidbits about the region itself in order to appeal to tourists.
“Pfft, who would even come to this region in the first place?” Max muttered to himself, stuffing the catalog into his backpack for later, thinking he could use it as a guide throughout his journey.
The sun had already fully set by the time the train arrived at the Werra town train station. He then asked and was given directions to the trainer agency by the conductor before he got off the train, taking off in a slow jog. The moment Max set foot into the Werra town square, he could already see the difference between here and Ousa. Despite being a more compact town with lots of small businesses, the streets and sidewalks were much cleaner compared to back home. More street lights lit up the area, there were a few parked cars along the sides of the road while the majority of people walked, and the colors of the buildings themselves were a tad more vibrant. A sign of normal wear and tear on them, and not as dull.
Max took in the sights for a few more seconds before taking off in the general direction of the agency, remembering the conductor’s instructions. A few minutes of jogging later, he found a dirtier building that had no signs or graphics, but a peek through the window gave him the indication that this was the right place. The interior was vastly empty apart from a red carpet leading to two doors at the end of the hallway, to which upon entering, one had a sticker of a government seal, and the other with nothing but a doorknob. Max entered the door on the right with the seal, to which he was greeted by a middle-aged male receptionist behind a desk with nothing but a computer, a standard printer, a messy file drawer and a cash register. Behind them, however, were two shelf racks filled with large textbooks. Looks like Daniel wasn’t kidding when he said that this place looked shady, nor about the textbooks being so big. They looked just over the size of usual college textbooks.
“Hello, can I help you?” said the receptionist in a tone-bland voice, pushing himself up in his seat to present himself with some form of professionalism, or lack thereof, which took Max off guard for a moment.
“O-Oh uh, I-I’m here for a textbook on becoming a pokemon trainer?” Max answered awkwardly, unsure if this was really the best way to go about this.
The receptionist pushed his glasses against his face with a sigh. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Uh, n-no…” Max stuttered.
“Mmm, well you’re in luck. You’re the only sucker to apply this month,” quipped the receptionist as he reached for a slip of paper from the drawer on his desk along with a pen. “Fill this out and hand it back to me along with your ID. Once I’ve processed your application, pay the fee and I’ll give you your textbook.”
Max took a moment to process how easy this was, skeptical of this process that he had a feeling he was getting punked, but one look at the 5-page application gave him some relief that this was legit. The seal of the Radosian government was there at the top left corner, and everything else was formatted accordingly from the questions to the providing of his personal information. “T-That’s it? Is it that easy to apply?” he asked the receptionist, just in case.
“Yeeup. You can take the test whenever you wish at a licensed pokemon center, but if you want to participate in the league, you gotta do it before the deadline listed on page four. Otherwise you gotta wait until after the league is over to reapply and take your test,” the receptionist explained, sounding like he wasn’t getting paid enough for any of the work he’s doing, which in turn was bringing down Max’s vibe. “The same thing goes for when you fail your test, but you’ll have only two tries before you’re deemed unfit to be a trainer by the law.”
“Hmm, no pressure then, right?” Max asked feebly, moreso in a feeble attempt to strike up a conversation.
“Yeup, and it’s my obligation to inform you that you will not be provided with supplies such as pokeballs, rations, or a starter pokemon upon the passing of your trainer exam. However you will be able to receive a starter pokemon at a licensed laboratory by showing your trainer certification to an official professor within a two-week grace period. If you wish to back out of the journey at any given time, simply head to a posted trainer agency, fill out the resignation form and turn your trainer’s license along with any badges and pokemon you have acquired,” the receptionist continued in the same, unenthusiastic tone Max is now starting to find annoying. This made him wonder if the sport really has died off in Rados.
“Well, now I have to make this work out,” Max muttered as he took the pen and began silently filling out the application in front of him. The first page was asking for his general information; physical characteristics, address of residency (current or former), and phone number. The second page was about any potential medical concerns and what his insurance is, neither of which he had to his current knowledge. The third and fourth page consisted of more questions, but more along the lines of the trainer profession. “Did you fill out this application before?” “Was your license suspended in the past year?” “Are you currently enlisted in a school or academy?” Finally, the last page was a brief statement on his rights as a resident of Rados and what legal actions he could take should that be necessary.
With a final wave of his signature after a good twenty or so minutes of filling everything out, he handed it to the dead-eyed receptionist along with his ID who groggily typed away at his keyboard, presumably filling in all the information into the database. Max waited some more, dreading the thought of having to read through and study one of those large textbooks on the rack. His train of thought was interrupted when he was told to pay a total of $130 for the owning of the textbook as well as the application fee and taxes. Another chunk of his life savings gone in one day, he thought bitterly to himself, hoping that it’ll be worth it.
The receptionist took the money and typed onto his computer some more before the printer buzzed to life, printing out a copy of Max’s application as well as a receipt for his purchase. He then pulled out a stamp from his desk and pressed it onto both papers before reaching for one of the textbooks, doing the same to its first page. Max received all three and was given an unenthusiastic farewell as he took his leave out of the building.
He had put everything into his backpack, almost filled to the brim with all his belongings, and took a look around downtown Werra to think about his next move. With the deadline just being a month away, Max didn’t have a lot of time to study the book and lock in his role as a trainer, instead concerned with finding a place to sleep. He contemplated sleeping on a nearby bench or alleyway, but was afraid of getting mugged. A cheap inn or a motel was another option, but he’d already spent enough of his savings that he kept this up, he wouldn’t have enough to spare for the upcoming days.
So he’d roam the near-empty streets of Werra Town in search of a convenience store to acquire the bare essentials, specifically camping supplies. Sure enough, he’d find one that was still open this time of night, praising whatever god was out there for this stroke of luck as he entered, beelining it for the outdoors section. Max carefully looks at the pricing for each product; sleeping bags, easy-make tents, matches and lighters, even some basic cooking utensils. It took him a bit to figure out how much it would all cost, which led to him settling for a sleeping bag, a box of matches, an 8-pack of cheap hot dogs, a water canteen with a built-in filter, and a value-sized bag of trail max.
Now even lower on his funds than when this trip started, Max knew that he couldn’t spend it anymore on supplies no matter how much he wanted to. He would’ve opted for a new backpack, but he wouldn’t have enough left for any rations or camping essentials, plus the fact that none in the store were big enough for everything. Until he figures out how to get some income, he’s going to have to take his chances roughing it from here on out. He’d need to, as it’s common for trainers to learn how to live in the wild, though without any survival skills or herbalist knowledge, it’d be much harder. Not to mention the countless wild pokemon that would lurk about out there, leaving him vulnerable to an attack if he’s not careful.
Max could find an alleyway to tuck away in for tonight, but the idea of sleeping on the streets would be a major blow to his self-esteem. The judgmental stares of the general public, the potential harassment of another who’s also homeless, the increased chances of getting mugged. So many of these thoughts that targeted his insecurities made him want to retain some of his dignity, plus he’s going to have to learn how to live off the land eventually. The sooner, the better, he thought. At least that way, he won’t have any distractions when studying for the trainer’s test, which he did not know the date of, but he’ll find out tomorrow after his first night.
Facing a similar fear of the unknown, yet choosing to brute force his way into it without any second thoughts, Max took off down a random road towards the outskirts. It was a bit harder for him to navigate due to the lower lighting of the smaller roads, but after a few dead ends, he was able to find a stretch of road leading into a nearby forest. Taking yet another heavy step, he made his way into the low-visibility darkness, leaving the illuminated streets of Werra behind. He could’ve hunkered down in an alleyway or spent the night in the cheapest motel, but his wallet was spent already, therefore leaving him with the next best thing, at least in his opinion. He should be fine, he thought. How hard could it be to find a simple place to set up his first ever campsite?
A few moments later…
“I was wrong, so very very wrong! Get me the fuck outta here, please! ” Max frantically muttered to himself as he sprinted through the wooded Rados countryside. It was supposed to be a simple procedure, but wandering aimlessly and straying off the main path to find a big enough clearing was a choice he would come to regret. The near-pitch black darkness didn’t help matters either, with only a half-full moon and the low brightness of his flip-phone screen serving as his only sources of light. Too late to turn back in the direction he came from, his mind raced with survival instincts and a fear for the worst, while his body was pushed to its limits in an attempt to prevent a life-threatening catastrophe. With each foreign sound he heard, or so he thought, made him want to go faster, wishing he took up exercising after high school.
Now just as lost in his own sanity as well as his geographical location, his only instinct was to run. Somewhere, anywhere , preferably back to Werra Town where there was light if he could help it. Max’s lungs ached for a form of rest, a sign of his body being out of shape, but everywhere he looked looked exactly the same. The same types of bushes, trees of varying heights, littered branches and leaves covering up patches of dirt, there was no end to it all.
Max could’ve sworn that he was being chased by a wild pokemon right now, wanting to believe that his mind was playing tricks on him. Every time he looked behind or to his side, there was nothing but the same, haunting environment, yet he did not take his chances by stopping. What if a wild lycanroc was taking its time chasing him, enjoying the hunt, or a pack of feral murkrow were keeping watch in the trees above him. For all he knew, he could be running in circles and would leap out and attack the moment he caught his breath. He had to keep going, running away from this fear that took hold of his mind.
Soon enough, Max’s body gave out as he tripped and fell near the base of a tree, dropping his phone in the process as his legs were unable to keep him moving. Out of breath, he tried to will himself onto his feet but to no avail, his muscles cramped from all that running. How much did he run, he wondered to himself as he braced himself for the worst amidst the heavy wheezing of his breath. Nothing happened for a good minute, but he remained still, waiting for whatever might be lurking in the dark to claim their prize for the night.
Then another minute went by. And another, as Max’s breath began to stabilize and his body relaxing. Finally, he pushed himself onto his feet, locating the phone he dropped and putting it back in his pocket as he took the time to collect himself. Was he safe? Safe enough to put up his tent up to the best of his limited abilities? No, he’d probably pass out halfway through. Better to trek through the dense forest for a little longer, maybe settling for some dense bushes and sleeping amongst those in the comfort of his sleeping bag. Especially now that his life wasn’t in any imminent danger, or at least, he hoped so.
Leaning up against the tree he tripped at, Max flipped his phone open again and continued walking to find that good patch of bushes. He was still tired from all the running, so his walking pace was much slower than when he first started this late-night outing. It wasn’t for another few moments where amidst the darkness, he noticed a change in the formation of the trees as he walked. Either it was his mind playing more tricks on him, or that the next batch of trees appeared to have a more linear formation to them. Sure, their branches were filled with leaves that intertwined with each other, but compared to what he was just running through, they shouldn’t be so linear to each other. At least, that’s what he thought, unless…
“Civilization! Thank God!” Max heaved with relief before taking off at a brisk walking pace past this new treeline he’s discovered. This eventually led him to find a gravel path branching away from said treeline, where in the dim moon-lit distance, a large field of land along with a structure came into view. No other source of light was available.
Max could barely make it out with this low visibility, but he knew that this was an establishment of some sort. A lucky break, just what he needed, however a new dilemma presented itself to him. Does he risk disturbing the inhabitants by sleeping on their property, or does he sacrifice his dignity for a night and ask for a place to sleep? He had learned his lesson in taking his chances with the wild area, still not trusting that nothing will pounce out and hunt him. With a heavy sigh, Max made his way to the front door while taking the time to get a better look at this place.
From what he could tell, this seemed to be some type of small manor estate. The structure itself resembled a one-story house with no internal lighting, no windows present either. It seemed to be purely made of wood with very little cement on the front porch, and the sound of it creaking idly gave him the impression that it was in need of maintenance. It gave him the creeps, but he chose to give it the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the people living here are an old married couple who can’t do much labor anymore. Whatever the case, he couldn’t find a doorbell to ring, so he banged on the door with moderate force to get their attention.
What Max didn’t expect was for the door to sway open upon impact, leaving him perplexed as to why they would leave their door open like that. He considered just crashing onto the ground, but he didn’t want to appear rude to these people, therefore calling out to whoever might be home. Moments went by with no response, not even the sound of other footsteps coming from further into the house, leading him to believe that this place might be abandoned. An uneasy feeling began to set in the more he stayed here, but he was too tired from all that mindless running to even care. Fuck it, Max thought to himself as he closed the door behind him and picked out a spot in what he assumed was the living room.
Setting his backpack down and unrolling his sleeping bag, Max made himself as comfortable as possible before he began drifting off to sleep, ignoring the idle creaking of the house around him. “Must've been really old, this place,” he muttered to himself, trying to look at the bright side of things. At least he was alive, had some form of shelter, as well as a chance at making something of his life, something that he actually liked to some degree. Yeah, at least there was that, he thought while his mind went blank, getting some proper rest.
*** THUMP! ***
Max jolted awake to the sound of something banging against… something, he couldn't tell where it was coming from. It wasn't loud, but it certainly wasn't quiet either. Had the house owners come back? It was still dark out so it couldn't be that, which made him check the time. “2:27am,” his phone read to him, along with a battery percentage of 48%. This made him make a mental note to get a charger or a better phone at some point.
*** THUMP! ***
There it was again, making him jolt up into a sense of security, alarms blaring in his head. Was Max really alone here? Did someone or something follow him inside? A part of him told him to leave his stuff and run again, but another part of him was curious even though he was scared more than anything. He couldn't decide which was worse, therefore leading him to curse his own curiosity and pull out his phone again.
Max couldn't hear the thumps anymore, so he explored what he could of the dark house, feeling along the walls for some sort of light switch. Slowly but surely, he traversed through the few rooms of the estate with nothing but a dim-lit flip phone screen for light. He could make out a few distinguishable features about each one; a sink and a stove in the kitchen, idle pieces of furniture in the living room, some desks and drawers in what he believed to be a bedroom, however there were no beds present, which was weird. All were spacious and had plenty of room for other objects, this making Max wondering who on earth would leave such a place behind, if anyone lived here at all?
Upon arriving in what he thought was the final room of the house, he was greeted with… nothing. Max let out a sigh thinking if he should just go back to sleep, contemplating on if his mind was playing tricks on him again. He was about to turn around, but noticed something his screen light found at the other end of the room. A large wheel-like handle planted in the center of the wall, resembling that of a large safe, as well as a keypad just above it. Upon further inspection with his phone, he could make out linear cracks in the wall that made a perfect rectangle. Either this was a large safe or a reinforced door to some secret storage space… which could also be a safe. “Oookay, so whoever lived here got a place for their valuables…” he whispered to himself as he planted his hands up against the door frame.
Max nearly tripped as the door began to shift inward under his weight, the metal groaning as it created a small opening in the wall. This led him to push it all the way open expecting to find vintage items or relics of a past generation like record players and furniture. Instead, there was a neatly-paved stone tunnel with a hint of light just further down, brighter than whatever his phone produced. The alarms in his head came back, telling him not to go any further in fear of what he’ll find down there, but once again, he chose to ignore them. He might come to regret this decision later on, but he won’t find out unless he tries, now will he?
It didn’t take much longer for Max to reach the part of the tunnel with brighter light, along with the rest of wherever he ended up. He was expected to reach another door to open at the end of it, only to discover that there was no door, as if it had been completely removed. There was also an unpleasant odor in the air, Max chalking it up to the possibility that this bunker hadn't been cleaned in a while. He wondered how someone would even manage that in the first place without a crew.
Upon making it through the open doorway, in front of him were the remains of what looked to be some sort of makeshift bunker, large enough to fit at least a hundred or so people. Some of the lights were either flickering or weren't functioning, others remaining lit yet provided just enough visibility to light the floors. Max could make out a bunch of other scattered objects around the bunker as he walked around; steel bed frames missing their mattresses, broken computer stations covered in dust, shards of glass, dirty bits of clothing, among many other traces of destruction. “Shit, what the hell happened here? ” he muttered to himself as he explored, once again second guessing his rash decision in coming here.
The more he looked around, the more Max felt that some sort of incident happened here, something that caused whoever worked here to abandon the site entirely. As he turned a corner to travel further into the bunker, he asked himself what it was doing here and what its true purpose was. A research laboratory, perhaps? Doomsday bunker, or a drug outpost? That last one would probably explain the smell.
He should probably get out of here, he thought. He’s stayed long enough, this is someone’s private property after all, emphasis on “private.” Max had no business snooping around in an area not of his own, much less without anything to protect him. Muttering “nope” to himself over and over again, he turned around and began walking back the way he came, swearing a code of silence onto himself for good measure. No matter what, he wasn’t gonna let anything stop him, no amount of littered documents nor locked iron doors nor a red figure on the ground- wait what?
Immediately going back on his mock-oath, behind one of the stone pillars supporting the whole bunker, he could see something red laying underneath one of the lights. A pokemon? Down here? Upon closer inspection, he was shocked to find that it was a pokemon lying seemingly unconscious before him. From the pale white but dirtied skin, long dress revealing its slender legs, a distinct hairstyle, and a crest impaling its chest, Max had deduced that this was a gardevoir, but not like any gardevoir he’s ever seen before. Its standard colors were replaced with a dark red instead of the standard green coloration, and the crest was a bright shade of blue instead of red. Surely he didn’t come across a shiny pokemon on his first night, but seeing as though it’s red, it must be some kind of regional variant or rare coloration, as far as he knew. It also seemed feminine in figure, however that was common amongst gardevoirs, so there was zero chance that it was a male.
It still didn’t explain what it was doing in a place like this, apart from maybe using it as shelter like he was, or hiding from other trainers due to its different colors. Probably the latter as shinies were considered rare prizes amongst the trainer community, not to mention poachers, breeders and collectors alike. Those last three professions made Max sick as he wondered what would possess them to view pokemon as mere trophies to hoard or sell off. So much so that he thought about catching this gardevoir himself, if it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t have a pokeball on hand. Looking down at this rarity, he couldn’t help but feel sorry about it, even noticing that its body wasn’t breathing, which made him contemplate on trying to wake it up. Sure, this thing will probably attack him out of self-defense, but he couldn’t just leave it like this. If he poked it awake, then it can relocate to somewhere better with teleportation. Yeah, that’d work out, he thought to himself with an optimistic grin. So what if it would blow him away with a light psychic attack? He’ll live.
Taking a sharp breath, he approached the immobile gardevoir, kneeling down and giving it a quick poke to its side before placing his hands on its shoulders. He gave it a few gentle shakes and even whispered its species name a few times, only to receive no response. Poor thing, he thought, assuming that whatever day it had must’ve been exhausting even by pokemon standards. For the next few moments, he tried to get the creature to stir but to no avail, when he suddenly had an idea. “The crest is considered an organ, right?” Max whispered as he really pushed his luck with this next move. He reached out and gently grabbed the gardevoir by the crest, a decision that he would deeply regret.
The gardevoir jolted awake with an audible gasp and pushed Max off of it, making him stumble back on his butt. Before he could get a word out, the gardevoir had already gone into fight or flight mode, giving Max a death stare as its arms began to surge with psychic power. {(W-Who the fuck are you to touch me, human?!)} It screamed to him via telepathy which made him stagger back as he’s never experienced a foreign entity invading his mind like that. Just hearing its scratchy, distorted voice was enough to give him a splitting headache.
“L-Look, I mean you no harm, I-I was only trying to help- SHIT!” Max screamed as he dodged what appeared to be a slash attack from the now-enraged gardevoir. Since when could they learn physical attacks?!
{(Help?! You can “help” by holding still so I can kill your ass! Serves you all right for fucking up my life!)} screamed the gardevoir as it lunged towards Max, who can only dodge by the skin of his teeth. ( Still too weak for any other moves. No matter, I love using my bare hands~! )
Max’s survival instincts flared up once more as he tried to escape the wrath of this bloodthirsty psychic type, having no place to hide around the ruined remnants of the bunker. He ducked and weaved the best he could to avoid getting slashed, now starting to realize what Daniel meant earlier when he said that pokemon in the wild were aggressive. He thought it was just for intimidation’s sake, not that they’d actually try to kill him.
As for the gardevoir, it seemed hell-bent on ending this human’s life as brutally as possible, the sooner it kills him the better. It was a shame it couldn’t unleash its usual powers and delete him on the spot, especially after touching its sensitive crest. That kind of gesture is not something that their species takes lightly, and having a human be the one to carry it out was the last thing it wanted. Still, it enjoyed watching this human run for its life, but the gardevoir needed rest more than anything, therefore going for the killing blow.
Amidst his attempt to stay alive, Max noticed something around the neck of the red gardevoir, a collar of some sorts. Was that what was restricting its abilities, resorting to close-combat attacks? If only he could just ask it or get it to calm down, but this particular pokemon was in no mood to answer any questions, no matter how much he pleaded. Despite the irritating headache of its scratchy telepathy, he could barely make out a feminine tone of sorts, leading him to believe that she was female. He didn’t have time to ponder on that as she suddenly disappeared from view. Max frantically looked around to try to find her, not paying attention to his surroundings as he tried to make a run for the exit.
It was only thanks to a split-second survival reaction that he saw the gardevoir reappear to his right, but it was too late. She got a good slash on his right arm, deep enough to break through the tissue and sever some veins, however not quite enough to reach bone. The gardevoir stood still to savor the attack while Max staggered back in severe pain, grasping at his gashed bicep. He didn’t want to believe it, but it was staring at him right in the face; he was going to die. He could see the gardevoir bring her bloodied hand to her face, pressing it up to her lips as she licked the blood on her hand, a manner so sadistic to him that sent chills through his body. He couldn’t keep it together, there was nothing he could do against this monstrosity, he couldn’t even move. Max remained in a state of panic before his vision began to blur, probably out of blood loss or sensory overload.
The last thing he saw was the gardevoir slowly approaching him, muttering something in poke-speech he did not know, but he had a feeling. His body fell to the ground, the grip on his injured arm loosening, leaving no other obstacles for the gardevoir to do as she pleased with him. There was only one thing he could mutter before his vision faded to black, two words that would undoubtedly be his last.
“I-I’m sorry…” he muttered, full of regret as he was taken by the void of the unknown.