The blue sigils pulsed softly beneath his boots. A final flicker of radiant light—and the world shifted.
The scent of war-torn stone and alchemical corruption vanished.
In its place: damp earth, wildflowers, and the distant chime of singing leaves.
He was home.
The Watcher stepped into the morning haze of the Garden Villa—a secluded glade nestled between ancient trees and gentle waterfalls, hidden from the chaos of any known world. The air here held no blood, no steel, no ash. Only peace.
For a moment, he let it settle into his bones.
Then he heard it—
Soft laughter.
Light footsteps pattering through dewy grass.
And the high-pitched squeaks and chirps of Pokémon playing.
His lips parted into a faint smile.
He followed the sound.
Under the shade of a flowering Oran tree, Nina Tucker sat cross-legged in the grass, surrounded by a circle of baby Pokémon.
A timid Azurill balanced on her shoulder.
A Budew nestled in her lap.
And a small group of Pichu, Togepi, and even a curious Ralts gathered around her like petals around a sun.
She wasn't afraid.
She wasn't lost.
She was… smiling.
The girl who once sat in dark corners hugging her knees—now giggled as a Wooper tripped over its own tail trying to reach her. She caught it mid-fall, holding it gently to her chest as if she'd done it a hundred times before.
The Pokémon didn't fear her. They never had.
A gentle light shimmered faintly on her wrist—the silver-gold seal he had marked her with before teleportation. A blessing of harmony, given by the Nature Goddess herself.
A blessing that told the Pokémon:
"She is safe. She is kind. She is one of us."
From a nearby boulder, the Watcher observed in silence.
He had not spoken a word since arriving.
But the knot in his chest—the one forged from guilt, rage, and helplessness—loosened.
Nina was safe.
For now, that was enough.
A gentle voice broke his focus.
"...She cried a little, on the first day."
He turned. A spectral Gardevoir, robed in drifting petals of light, stepped beside him. Her voice was telepathic but warm, carrying the wisdom of lifetimes. She had served as the Garden's guardian since its creation.
"She couldn't sleep. She clutched a small stuffed bear, called it 'Alex.'"Her gaze softened. "But the children here welcomed her. They recognized her sorrow. And they made her laugh."
He nodded, whispering back, "Good."
Gardevoir tilted her head. "You've returned changed. Darker."
A pause.
He didn't deny it.
Later, when the sun reached its noon peak, the MC approached Nina.
She looked up at him—not with fear, but curiosity.
"You're back," she said, cradling a sleeping Azurill in her arms.
He knelt beside her.
"Yes. I had something to take care of."
She looked away for a moment. "Will I ever have to go back?"
"No," he said firmly. "Not to him. Not ever."
A pause.
"Then… can I stay here?" she whispered, eyes wide.
He smiled softly. "As long as you like. This garden is yours too now."
Tears formed but did not fall. She simply nodded and leaned against his side.
The Pichu huddled close.
And for the first time since that horrible night, Nina Tucker slept in peace—surrounded by friends.
That night, as moonlight bathed the villa, the Watcher finally walked the perimeter.
The air smelled… different.
The mana lines flowing through the soil were denser. The trees taller. The wildlife more vibrant.
The Pokémon here were growing stronger—faster than they should.
Even the barrier sigils etched around the garden's edge hummed with a frequency he hadn't encoded.
He reached a cliff ledge overlooking the entire forest basin.
And there, in the distance—just beyond the misted mountains—
A new light was glowing.
Something had awakened in the world while he was gone.
Something watching.