The air in this place was different. Thicker. It smelled of damp earth, chlorophyll, and a hundred sweet, alien blossoms I couldn't name. Sunlight sliced through the canopy in brilliant, shifting blades, painting the forest floor in stripes of gold and green. It was beautiful, sure, but it was also the biggest, most untamed wilderness I'd ever seen. And I was completely, utterly lost in it.
A knot of panic and curiosity twisted in my gut. Back with the Titans, I'd know what to do. Call Cyborg for a map. Have Raven phase us out. Heck, even have Robin lecture me on orienteering. But here? Here, I was just me. And my powers.
"Okay, Garfield," I muttered to myself, my voice sounding small under the vast, leafy ceiling. "Let's see what still works."
I took a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of lightness, of hollow bones and feathered purpose. The world dissolved in a familiar green shimmer. My perspective shot upwards as my body shrank, reforming into a small, brown-feathered bird. Whoa. That felt… new. Lighter than a sparrow, with wings that caught the air with an almost preternatural agility. I flapped once, twice, zipping between two massive trunks with a grace that wasn't entirely my own. It felt good. Better than good.
A sharp chirp from a nearby branch made me turn. A bird, almost identical to my current form, was perched there, its head cocked at an impossible angle. Its beady black eyes weren't just looking at me; they were scrutinizing me. It let out another chirp, not of greeting, but of warning. It was a Pidgey, I'd learned that much. And it was looking at me like I was a glitch in its reality.
Weird. Shaking off the feeling, I landed on a thick root and let the green energy wash over me again. This time, I thought of cunning, of paws on soft earth, of a sharp nose sniffing the wind. I became a fox, sleek and russet-furred. The world dropped to my eye level, a tapestry of smells I'd never imagined. I could smell the decay of last season's leaves, the sweet nectar dripping from an overhead flower, the musky scent of some burrowing animal, and a sharp, acrid tang that smelled like… danger.
My new fox ears twitched. As my shadow fell over it, the little creature froze, its body squirming in place. Its big, expressive eyes widened, not with the simple fear of a prey animal seeing a predator, but with a kind of deep-seated unease.
I could feel it. A distinct sense of wrongness emanating from them.
To test the theory, I went small. Really small. I focused on the leaf beside the Caterpie, imagining myself as one of the tiny insects crawling upon it. A flash of green, and the world exploded into a gigantic landscape of veins and dewdrops. I was a bug, no bigger than my thumbnail, clinging to a verdant continent. But even here, I couldn't escape the feeling. The Caterpie recoiled from me, its little suction-cup feet shuffling backward. The Pidgey above let out another sharp, agitated call.
I shifted back into my own form, landing with a soft thud on the moss. "They're… looking at me like I'm not… natural," I breathed, the realization sending a chill down my spine. "Like I don't belong." It was more than just being a stranger in a strange land. These creatures, these Pokémon, could sense something fundamentally different about me, something that set their instincts on edge.
That's when the buzzing started.
It was low at first, a faint hum at the edge of hearing, like a faulty generator. But it grew steadily, a deep, resonant thrum that vibrated through the soles of my shoes. The Pidgey shrieked and shot into the sky. The forest fell silent, all the ambient chirps and rustles ceasing at once. The Caterpie on the root stiffened, its antennae twitching frantically. Then, with a surprising burst of speed, it scrambled up my leg, over my torso, and clung tightly to my shoulder, trembling.
"Hey, easy there, little guy," I said, but my own heart was starting to hammer. The buzzing was a physical presence now, a pressure against my eardrums.
Rustle.
To my left.
Sh-sh-shhhh.
To my right. In front of me. Behind me. It wasn't the wind. It was the sound of hundreds of things moving through the foliage, a coordinated, menacing advance. I was being watched. I was being surrounded.
The world erupted. A living cloud of black and yellow burst from the trees, a swarm of massive, hornet-like creatures with furious red eyes and lances for arms. Their buzzing became a deafening roar.
Panic flared, hot and sharp. My instincts screamed, and I let them take over.
Monkey!
My form flowed, limbs elongating, a prehensile tail sprouting from my spine. I grabbed a low-hanging vine and swung, the wind whipping past my face. A Beedrill shot past where my head had been, its stinger slicing through a leaf with a vicious thwip. They were fast. Way too fast.
Another one dove, aiming for my back. No time to think.
Armadillo!
BAM. I was a rolling, armored ball, dropping from the vine and crashing to the forest floor. Three stingers thunk-thunk-thunked harmlessly against my shell. The impact rattled my teeth, but it was better than being skewered. I uncurled, disoriented, and saw another squadron bearing down on me.
Frog!
I shot out a long, sticky tongue, grabbing a branch high above and launching myself into the air, leaping from branch to branch in a desperate, chaotic parkour. The little Caterpie clung to my shoulder for dear life, its tiny body pressed flat against me.
"This is not going according to plan!" I yelled, mostly to myself. "There is no plan!"
I tried to go small again, thinking maybe a fly could just buzz away unnoticed. But in my haste, my focus slipped. Instead of a housefly, I became a rhino beetle—big, clumsy, and definitely not aerodynamic. "Oops. Wrong bug," I grunted, promptly crashing headfirst into a tree trunk. Dazed, I shifted back into a monkey and, in a flailing panic, my arm swung out and accidentally swatted a poor Pidgey that was just trying to flee the scene.
"Sorry, dude!" I yelped, as another stinger grazed my arm, leaving a searing, fiery line. The pain was real. Sharp and electric. This wasn't a sparring session with Cyborg. These things were actually trying to kill me. The realization hit me like a physical blow, knocking the sarcasm right out of me.
A Beedrill broke from the pack, its drill-like stinger aimed squarely at my face. I was out of momentum, out of ideas, clinging to a branch with nowhere to go. This is it, I thought. I'm going to be the first Teen Titan to be taken out by a giant bug.
Thwip!
A thick, white strand of something shot past my ear and splattered directly across the Beedrill's eyes. The creature shrieked in surprise, its flight pattern wavering as it tried to claw the sticky substance off its face.
I stared, dumbfounded. Then I looked at my shoulder. The Caterpie, my tiny, terrified passenger, had its head reared back, spitting out another glob of silk that tangled in the Beedrill's wings, sending it spiraling into the undergrowth.
Another Beedrill dove at us from the side. Before I could even react, the Caterpie launched itself from my shoulder, landing on my chest and firing a web of silk that wasn't an attack, but a shield. The stinger plunged into the thick, fibrous mass, stopping inches from me.
My brain finally caught up. "Wait… this little guy is actually helping me survive."
A switch flipped in my head. It wasn't just me against them anymore. It was us.
"Okay, new plan!" I shouted, a fresh surge of adrenaline coursing through me. "You distract, I'll drive!"
I morphed into a cheetah, the Caterpie clinging to the fur on my back. I burst through the trees, a green-and-yellow blur. The Beedrill swarm gave chase, a furious buzz right on my heels. When one got too close, Caterpie would fire a shot of silk, slowing it down, giving me precious seconds. We ducked and weaved, a chaotic, desperate duo, until I saw it: a dark opening in the side of a mossy cliff, hidden behind a curtain of hanging vines.
With a final, desperate leap, I dove through the vines, shifting into my human form and rolling into the cool darkness of a shallow cave. The Caterpie tumbled off my back, exhausted. I scrambled to my knees, peering out. The Beedrill swarm hovered outside for a moment, buzzing with frustrated rage, before finally turning and retreating back into the forest.
Silence. Blessed, wonderful silence, broken only by my own ragged breathing and the frantic hammering of my heart. I slumped against the cave wall, sliding down to sit on the damp stone. My arm burned, my body ached, and I was covered in dirt and what I sincerely hoped was not Beedrill guts.
I looked at the little green creature beside me. It was curled into a tight ball, its breathing shallow. It had put itself between me and those stingers. For me. A total stranger. A creature its instincts told it was wrong.
"I can't just run around thinking I'm a one-man army," I whispered, the words tasting strange and foreign. I was so used to having my team, but my first instinct here had been to rely only on myself, on my own power. It almost got me killed. "I actually need… teamwork?"
I reached out a hesitant hand and gently patted the Caterpie's head. It uncurled slightly, looking up at me with those big, dark eyes. There was no fear in them now. Just exhaustion, and something else. Trust.
I let out a shaky, nervous laugh. "Guess you're my first real partner, huh, little guy?"
The buzz of the swarm had faded completely, but as my hearing returned to normal, I caught a new sound from the forest beyond. It wasn't the frenetic hum of insects. It was a rustle, heavier, more deliberate. The sound of something large pushing its way through the undergrowth. A low growl echoed faintly in the distance, making the hairs on my arms stand up. The Beedrill were just the welcome wagon. There were bigger things out here. Much bigger.
I pushed myself up and walked to the mouth of the cave, parting the vines to look out over the forest canopy. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and violet. It was the most beautiful, terrifying thing I had ever seen. A world of incredible wonder and incredible danger.
The Caterpie crawled over and curled up next to my foot, letting out a weary little sigh. It was exhausted, but it was here. With me.
I took a deep breath, a mix of awe, fear, and a spark of stubborn determination settling in my chest. I wasn't just lost anymore. I had a mission: survive. And I wasn't alone.
"Okay…" I said, looking down at my new, tiny, silken-haired friend. "We're in this together. No turning back now."