Chapter Text
He awakes in the middle of a vast darkness, feeling weightless and untethered from his body. Neither warm nor cold, there is an unnatural stillness here; no breeze, no chirp of birds, not even the rush of his own breathing. It is as though he is swathed in complete and total silence. How he arrived in such a place, he does not know, and try as he might, he cannot recall. In growing horror, he realizes he cannot recall anything at all, not even his own name; his mind is totally blank and devoid of memory. What he does remember is an explosion: the sound of a great machine backfiring, and a bright light that swallowed everything in its violence.
His brows furrow, was he dead?
Or was he somewhere in between?
...
He hears voices now.
They speak in a language he cannot understand, their words warped and muddled as if underwater. From out of the darkness, three distinct creatures appear; Pokémon, his mind corrects, although he is unsure how he knows that.
The first to show is a majestic, blue furred deer with huge branching antlers, the multicolored tines surrounding its head like the prongs of a crown. Its hide is dappled in the same colors, glowing with an ethereal light.
The next is bird-like in shape, with wide stretching wings and a long clawed tail. Cloaked in red and black feathers, it moves as silent as death itself, its cold blue eyes peering out from under two forward curving horns.
The last to arrive is a great frilled serpent, covered in glittering black and green hexagonal scales. Spots of white dotted along its skin blink in and out of existence, brief flashes of light in the darkness.
Somehow, drawn from somewhere in the depths of his fractured consciousness, names seem to pin themselves to each pokémon as they encircle him: Xerneas, the One Who Gives; Yveltal, the One Who Takes; and Zygarde, the Enforcer.
The voices seem to be coming from them.
Xerneas and Yveltal sound agitated, as if in argument. The deer snorts and paws at the ground, tossing its head as the other ruffles its feathers and clacks its beak in warning. Zygarde, however, is mute; its blank eyes seeming to stare right through to his soul. At length, it rattles the frill around its neck, drawing the others attention. The nonsense words cease, and all eyes fall on him.
He shrinks under their judgement, unsure of what to expect. An agreement appears to have been reached, for Xerneas is the first to move. It steps toward him in long, graceful strides, and as it draws closer he can see flowers blooming in its wake. It stops to tower over him, antlers now glowing blindingly bright, and ever so slowly, Xerneas leans down to touch its snout to his forehead.
A single word whispers into his mind: Breathe.
He gasps, whether by command or reaction to the featherlight contact, and a painful jolt races along his veins. The weightlessness vanishes, slamming him back into his body with such a force that it brings him to his knees. He reels at the sensation, clutching his left eye as it burns white hot with pain. A steady rhythmic sound begins to build in his ears, a rushing that quickly overtakes the silence. His remaining eye widens in recognition: it's his heartbeat. He didn't even realized it had stopped.
Either unaware or uncaring of his agony, Xerneas lifts away and turns to leave, disappearing into the void. Yveltal soon follows, gliding after its polar opposite on quiet wings. All that is left is Zygarde. It watches him struggle for a moment before it surges forth, moving to surround him in its coils. His failing vision swims in blurs of green and black as the Enforcer's body presses in on him from all sides. The sound, the sensation, the pain; it's all too much for him. He passes out.
And somewhere deep in the earth, buried under rock and soil, a dead man takes his first breath.