Akira stepped over a stray broomstick and tapped one of the Poké Balls at his hip.
"Alright, big guy. Time to tag in."
With a sharp click, a red beam burst forward—condensing into a massive, wide-shouldered silhouette.
Swampert materialized in the center of the hallway, towering, stoic… and dusty by proximity.
Thick blue limbs, powerful gills, and the kind of aura that could silence a rowdy crowd of Machamp. The floor groaned under his weight.
If intimidation were a contest, this Swampert would be a finalist just for standing still.
But when he saw Akira's face?
His expression melted from "regional disaster" to "loyal best friend" in an instant.
"Swampert, buddy," Akira greeted with a crooked grin, "could you help me move these dusty old things out to air them?"
He gestured to a leaning tower of furniture in the parlor with faded chairs, a sofa that looked like it might have been cursed at some point, and more sealed cardboard boxes than any human soul should legally own.
Swampert grunted once. Then, with a gentleness that belied his bulk, lifted a moldy three-seater couch as easily as if it were a folded towel. He shuffled out the door with perfect balance.
"Heave-ho!" Akira called behind him, sleeves rolled up, cheeks flushed with effort and spring sunlight.
He turned to the pile of boxes next, cracking knuckles. The goal was simple: figure out what was sentimental, what was farm-usable, and what absolutely needed to be launched into the sun.
If he found any keepsakes from the old couple, he'd clean them gently and deliver them to their graves with flowers.
If he found tools, well then he was in the market for spades and seed trays.
He knelt by one of the boxes and traced his finger across the dusty label. Old cursive handwriting, barely legible. Probably untouched in years.
Then, without warning:
[In the box located third from the left in front of your right hand, there's a mysterious crystal. It could significantly enhance your strength.]
Akira froze mid-reach, one eyebrow twitching.
"...You again."
The system's glowing interface flickered faintly in his peripheral vision like a guilty Snorunt peeking out from behind the fridge.
"You sure this isn't gonna end with me mutating into a Wugtrio or something?"
No response. Just the usual blinking ellipsis.
He rolled his eyes and opened the indicated box anyway.
Might as well see what all the cryptic foreshadowing is about.
Without another word, Akira turned to the indicated box, crouched low, and sliced through the brittle sealing tape with a well-worn box cutter.
Let's see just how accurate this so-called "hint function" really is.
The cardboard flaps creaked as they folded open, releasing a puff of stale air and dust motes that danced like Drifloon in sunlight.
Akira squinted through the murk and carefully parted the layers of old newspaper, moth-nibbled cloth, and... was that a broken Poké-gear?
Then he saw it.
Nestled in the center of the box was a glowing blue crystal, humming faintly like it had a pulse. Veins of light pulsed through it in rhythmic bursts with slow, patient, like waves hitting a quiet beach.
But it wasn't the luminous casing that caught his breath.
It was what was sealed inside.
A dark-gray ore, it looked dense, opaque, and unmistakably familiar.
Akira blinked. Then blinked again.
"...It's really that thing?"
He leaned closer, voice hushed as though speaking too loud might crack it.
"A Tera Shard core? No, wait—raw ore? Unrefined?"
His mind raced. All his time spent researching regional mechanics during downtime and late nights browsing Paldean Trainer forums.
Video breakdowns of Terastallization mechanics, even a dry geology journal he'd once skimmed out of boredom, now flashed through his thoughts.
This wasn't just some collectible.
This was the crystallized root of the Tera phenomenon. A raw fragment of the very mineral used to forge Tera Orbs in Paldea.
And judging by the density and structure... this wasn't some tourist-grade shard you bought in Levincia's souvenir shops. This was the real deal.
"You've gotta be kidding me... this was sitting in a closet box for years?"
He gingerly lifted the crystal out of the box, holding it up to the sunlight spilling through the window.
The glow intensified, catching the edges of the room in refracted blues and silvers. Swampert, carrying a headboard on one shoulder like a professional mover, paused mid-step and tilted his head toward the light.
Akira exhaled slowly.
"No wonder the system piped up."
His gaze softened. In some ways, this crystal felt symbolic, it looked like the land itself was offering him a second chance. A small, glimmering nudge from the past toward a future he hadn't yet imagined.
"Still not gonna go running off on some hero's quest, though," he muttered.
He carefully placed the crystal on a clean cloth, wrapping it like a delicate fruit, and set it aside.
Just a farmhouse, a field, a few good Pokémon—and now, apparently, a one-in-a-million mineral artifact humming quietly in his living room.
"...Well. That's gonna be a pain to appraise."
(End of Chapter)
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[Author's Note]
The "system" in this story exists mainly to provide occasional comic relief and suggestions.
It won't be a dominant plot device.
Akira's real "cheat" is his strength as a Trainer and his deep understanding of Pokémon.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
+50 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter
Update Schedule: 7 chapters/week + up to 3 bonus chapters
If you have any suggestions for the story or spot any corrections, feel free to let me know. Your feedback is always welcome!