Kalos Region – Shalour City.
The late-winter sea breeze carried a cool edge, rolling in from the glittering horizon and brushing across the silver-white sands. Grains of salt-speckled sand rose and swirled lazily in the air, carried on that faint briny wind before falling back to meet the shore where the tide lapped rhythmically.
The sunlight was soft, filtered through thin clouds, spreading evenly over a coastal town where buildings leaned at different heights among clusters of green shade.
Shalour, with its modest population of just over 300,000, was only just waking up.
Not far from the beach, an elegant single-family house stood quiet and warm. Inside, the scent of butter and toast hung in the air as a family of three gathered for breakfast.
On the TV mounted in the corner, the daughter of Gym Leader Norman was being interviewed after winning the Beauty Ribbon in a Pokémon Contest.
The morning newspaper headline showed a photo of Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town holding the Orange League trophy aloft, smile as wide as a Gengar's.
From the smartphone on the table, the news app was pushing a trailer for Champion Diantha's newest film — a glossy, stylized poster of her standing atop Prism Tower.
"Fred, do you think it's really a good thing for children to travel so far from home at such a young age?"
The man behind the newspaper — middle-aged, neat hair, gold-rimmed glasses — lowered the pages to look at me. His eyes were calm, but curious. "This boy, Ash… he seems quite young, doesn't he?"
I looked up from my phone, thumbs pausing mid-typing. "If the kid's talented and mature, maybe it's a good thing," I said after a thought. "There are prodigies in this world, after all… I'm just not one of them."
From the kitchen counter, my mother — looking far younger than her early forties — brought over two glasses of milk. "Our little Fred is certainly a genius," she said, handing one to me. "But even if you were ready, I still wouldn't let you travel at such a young age. Now, drink before it gets warm."
"Yes, Mom." I set the phone aside and took a long drink. The milk was cool and faintly sweet.
"Today's important," my father said, folding his newspaper. "I hope everything goes smoothly for you."
"And so do I," my mother added, leaning down to give me a warm hug that smelled faintly of coffee and toast.
I smiled, kissed her cheek, then grabbed my jacket. A quick tug on my trouser cuffs, and I stepped out the door with the sun behind me.
The streets were waking, alive with chatter and movement. Posters clung to every wall and bus stop — each one showing the same woman.
Sabrina. The psychic pop idol.
Her upcoming Kalos concert tour had been in the works for months. It wasn't just a series of shows, but also a publicity wave for her new film. The first stop: Shalour City, here on the northwest coast. The final stop: Lumiose City, the "City of Light" and the largest metropolis in the Pokémon world.
People bustled past me — office workers hurrying toward tram stops, travelers with rolling suitcases, couples sharing coffee cups. Technology had made life faster, brighter, more connected.
I glanced down at my phone again. The model looked almost exactly like the one I'd had in… my other life. And that thought always came with a weight in my chest.
This world really is a bit strange, I thought, watching the neon shimmer of a digital billboard flicker over a row of shopfronts.
Something shifted on my shoulder — a faint, playful weight. I turned my head to find a dark-green wisp of a Pokémon lounging there, eyes half-lidded with mischief.
"But strange isn't bad," I murmured to her. "As long as the changes don't cause us trouble."
"Mis~"
Nyx's lilting cry was cheerful, though I doubted she understood what I'd said.
Ahead, the League registration building rose into view — tall, plain, and edged in sunlight. My fingers ran through my hair, smoothing it even though it didn't need it.
A new stage begins.
I stepped forward. The warmth of the sun didn't quite reach me here in the sea breeze.
The door chimed as I entered.
"Good morning, little Fred!"
Aunt Martha, in her fifties and wearing her usual pink scarf, looked up from the service counter with a broad smile. "I thought you'd be here earlier. Most kids can't wait to register the moment they turn sixteen, but you are patient as always."
I bowed slightly. "Good morning, Aunt Martha. You've known me and Nyx for 2 years now — thank you for helping us today."
"Misdreavus~ Mis~"
Nyx floated forward from my shoulder, waving her wispy arms with obvious excitement.
"Of course," Martha said warmly. "And Nyx won't have to stay in your father's Poké Ball anymore after today — that's worth celebrating!"
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. A printer hummed to life, spitting out a crisp form.
I filled it quickly; my handwriting was neat, almost mechanical from years of practice.
Martha slid a glossy card across the counter. "Congratulations, Fred. You are now a registered Kalos League trainer. Keep this certificate safe — if you lose it, you'll need to visit the League office to get a replacement. And read this booklet — it explains your rights and obligations as a trainer."
I nodded and slid both into my backpack. "Thank you, Aunt Martha."
Her smile softened. "Would you like to get a Poké Ball for Nyx now? Transfer her out of your father's?"
"Yes, please—"
"Mis~!"
Before I could finish, Nyx darted into my shadow. There was a muffled clink-clang-clink sound as she rummaged around in the eerie extra-dimensional space, that only she could create.
A moment later, she emerged proudly holding a brand-new Poké Ball.
I blinked. "You bought this? With your allowance from helping Mom with errands? That's… actually impressive."
"Mis~ Mis~!" She pressed it into my palm insistently.
Martha leaned on the counter, watching us with the fond look of a long-time neighbor.
And just like that, the sight of her — healthy, bright-eyed, full of energy — pulled me back two years…
Two years ago, I wasn't from here at all.
I had been twenty-six, an editor at an art magazine in my old world. I'd worked for years, studied hard, finally ready to put my knowledge to use… and then an accident ended everything.
Except it didn't.
I woke again in the fragile body of a newborn; my soul tangled with that of this world's "native" Fred. Our minds blended, gifting me an overwhelming mental strength — not the kind that becomes psychic power but rather mature mental age.
My parents — my new parents — gave me space and warmth to grow. My father, a professor of mythology at Lumiose University, was away often but always shared stories when he returned. My mother, who ran a café here in Shalour, filled the rest of my days with care.
When I turned sixteen, my mind felt fully my own again. My memories of my old life were still fragmented, but enough to know this Pokémon world was… different. A patchwork of regions, events, and people that didn't quite match the games or anime.
It was around that time that Nyx entered my life.
She'd been born in a seaside forest in Johto, only to wander aboard an ocean freighter by mistake. The ship carried her far from home, through Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh… until finally, it docked here.
By then, she was starving and weak, barely able to float. A sudden rainstorm had soaked her, draining what little strength she had left.
I'd stayed late at the school library that day. On my way home, I found her curled on the pavement, her gem dim and her cry barely a whisper.
Mis…
I didn't hesitate. I wrapped her in my coat and ran all the way home. For a week, I barely left her side.
It took a month for her to trust me — a full year before she returned to her playful self. Since then, we've been inseparable.
"Mis~!"
A tug on my cheek snapped me out of the memory. Nyx had launched herself at my face like a tiny, affectionate comet.
"Alright, alright — I was just remembering," I laughed.
I took the old Poké Ball from my pocket, pressed the transfer button, and touched it gently to her form. A warm red light enveloped her, and the ball in my hand clicked shut.
"Thank you, Nyx," I murmured. "Let's keep going."
The ball trembled — then burst open in a flash of white. Nyx reappeared and clung to my face again, refusing to let go.
Later that day, I stood in the upstairs bathroom of the café, letting cool water run over my face.
The reflection in the mirror looked calm… but my heart knew: today was the first step into something much bigger.
Looking up, I caught sight of my own reflection — a handsome face framed by a hint of quiet elegance.
Behind me, suddenly, a huge ghostly visage flickered into the glass — the familiar eerie face of Nyx, my little companion, floating close enough to cast a faint chill. The translucent features looked unnervingly sharp, the eyes glowing dimly in the mirror's depths.
But I wasn't startled. Instead, I met that gaze calmly and smiled, thoughtful. "Have you made progress again, Nyx? You're growing faster than I imagined."
As my mental superpower flickered to life, a translucent panel appeared in front of my eyes — a digital attribute sheet only I could see:
Nyx (Misdreavus)
Gender: Female
Type: Ghost
Ability: Levitate
Level: 38 → 39
Move set:
Perfect: None
Excellent: Screech, Attract, Fake Tears, Scary Face, Astonish, Night Shade, Thunder Wave, Shadow Sneak
Skilled: Confuse Ray, Hex, Curse, Pain Split, Payback, Swift, Disable
Basic: Shadow Ball, Substitute, Protect
Learning: Perish Song, Hyper Voice
Physical Development:
Height: 0.8 m
Weight: 1.8 kg
Overall physical condition: Excellent (growing)
This attribute panel was one of the fruits of my transformation — a unique superpower. Beyond memory and spirit fusion, I called this my Perception. Anything within my mental reach, roughly a few dozen meters, could be analyzed in detail. Every object, every living thing gave feedback — stats, status, and more.
Of course, this was mentally taxing. Push the range any farther and I'd get splitting headaches. It wasn't like traditional superpowers; it felt specialized, tailored to my profession.
And no matter how hard I tried, I still couldn't move anything bigger than a pebble with pure mental force.
"Mis~"
Nyx, sensing my distracted tone, changed shape again — morphing into a playful face hugger and wrapping herself around my cheeks like a warm, fluttering scarf.
I laughed and scooped her up. "Our little Nyx is the strongest Pokémon I know. No one else even comes close."
"Mis~!" she purred proudly, rubbing her head against my palm. Her shining gem glimmered brighter, as if saying, Say more!
I grinned and teased, "But hey… have you put on some weight? You feel softer than usual."
"Mis~!" she squeaked indignantly — about to protest — when my mother's voice rang out from downstairs.
"Fred! Nyx! Come down and give me a hand!"
"Coming!"
"Mis~!" Nyx chirped excitedly as we hurried down together, the café already buzzing with customers.