The operation was a resounding success.
In his previous life as a shut-in, Aron—now Ash—had never been one for grand romantic gestures. He wasn't a lecher, nor was he particularly smooth; he was just a guy who preferred the company of a computer screen to the terrifying unpredictability of human interaction.
But standing here, in the vibrant, breathing world of Pokémon, everything felt different. Seeing Serena, the girl who would one day become a legend in her own right, standing there in her mud-stained pink dress, something in Ash's "hero" programming had simply clicked into place.
Carrying her wasn't just a tactical move to gain "favor points" like in some dating sim; it felt right.
Serena was surprisingly light. Though she was a bit taller than him—a common biological quirk where girls hit their growth spurts early—she felt like little more than a bundle of silk and sunlight on his back. Ash, however, felt a strange, burgeoning power coiling in his muscles.
Wait a minute, he thought, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. I forgot. Ash Ketchum isn't just a normal kid. He's basically a biological anomaly. He remembered the memes from his old world—the "Superhuman Ash" who could toss a massive log like a javelin or hold a half-ton Larvitar in his arms without breaking a sweat.
In this world, the laws of physics seemed to take a backseat to the sheer willpower of a Trainer. Even at five years old, his legs felt like iron pillars, and his lungs drew in the forest air with a capacity that defied his small frame.
"So, Serena," Ash said, his voice steady despite the incline they were climbing. "Where are you from? You don't sound like you're from around Pallet Town."
"Me?" she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, causing a localized "paralysis" effect on his social nerves. "I'm from the Kalos region. My home is in Vaniville Town. My mom... she's a Rhyhorn Racer. She wanted me to come to Professor Oak's camp to see more of the world."
"Kalos, huh?" Ash replied, his mind conjuring images of Parisian streets and the sprawling Lumiose Tower. "That's halfway across the planet. I guess it really is fate that we bumped into each other in the middle of nowhere."
"Fate..." Serena repeated the word softly, her grip on his neck tightening just a fraction.
As a former shut-in, Ash knew he was laying it on a bit thick, but his adult brain was working overtime to keep the conversation going. He didn't want her to focus on the pain in her leg or the fact that they were lost. He talked about the Berries he wanted to find, the types of Pokémon he dreamed of seeing, and the "secret" spots in the Pallet woods.
To Serena, this wasn't just a boy rambling; it was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her. She saw the beads of sweat forming on his brow and the way his chest heaved, yet he never once suggested putting her down. He was like the Paladin from the stories—noble, tireless, and just a little bit silly.
Rustle. Snap.
The forest's ambient melody of chirping Pidgey and humming Weedle suddenly cut to a dead silence. Ash stopped mid-sentence, his senses heightening. That wasn't the sound of a small Pokémon foraging. That was the sound of something heavy moving through the underbrush with intent.
"Who's there?" Ash called out, his voice dropping an octave as his survival instincts flared.
The bushes ten yards ahead exploded outward.
"Whoa!" Ash shifted his weight, keeping his balance as Serena let out a sharp gasp.
An orange-and-white blur leaped from the greenery, skidding across the dirt and leaves before coming to a halt right in front of them. It was a cat. An orange tabby, about the size of a large housecat, but looking like it had been through a war zone. Its fur was matted with burrs and mud, and a distinct cross-shaped scar sat right between its eyes.
Ash felt the world tilt. His heart skipped a beat, then hammered twice as fast.
"Barnaby?" he breathed.
It was him. The same "Porkchop" of a cat that had bitten the power cord in his apartment. The ginger-and-white menace who was his only friend in the world he had left behind. But the Barnaby in front of him wasn't the lazy, overfed balloon he remembered. This cat was thin, his ribs showing through his dirty coat, and his eyes were wide with a primal, bone-deep terror.
"Is that... a Persian?" Serena asked, peering over Ash's shoulder. "It's so small. And its colors are so strange. I've never seen a Pokémon like that."
Barnaby's eyes locked onto Ash's. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The cat's ears twitched, his tail puffed up into a ginger bottle-brush, and his eyes dilated until they were nothing but black voids of recognition. He let out a low, guttural Growl—the specific, grumpy sound he used to make when Ash tried to move him off the keyboard.
He knows me, Ash realized, a wave of relief and horror washing over him. He's here. He transmigrated too, but he's just a cat in a world of monsters.
Barnaby didn't move toward him, though. He remained arched, his gaze darting back toward the bushes he had just escaped. He was trembling so hard his claws were digging furrows into the earth. Ash remembered the Fourth of July back home—the way Barnaby would hide under the bed for hours, terrified of the fireworks. This was that same fear, magnified a thousand times.
CLANG. CLANG.
The sound of metal striking metal echoed through the clearing. It was a rhythmic, mechanical sound that set Ash's teeth on edge.
Then, the monster appeared.
It burst through the treeline like a tank made of organic chrome. Standing nearly five feet tall, the creature was a nightmare of brown chitin and jagged edges. On its head sat two massive, horn-like pincers lined with sharp, triangular teeth. Its eyes were a flat, glowing red—devoid of reason, filled only with a mindless, territorial rage.
"A Pinsir," Ash whispered.
This wasn't the cute, pixelated sprite from a game. This was a wild, predatory insectoid. Its heavy arms ended in three-clawed hands that snapped open and shut with a sickening click-clack sound. It let out a screech that sounded like a saw blade hitting a stone.
Ash didn't hesitate. He knew the stats; he knew the biology. Pinsir were notoriously territorial, and this one looked like it was suffering from a frenzy.
"Serena, get down!" Ash swung his body around, gently but firmly sliding Serena off his back and onto a patch of soft moss behind a large oak.
"Ash? What are you doing?" Serena's voice was trembling.
"Stay back!" Ash scanned the ground, his hand closing around a fallen branch. It was thick, heavy, and made of solid oak, but against a Pinsir's armor, it might as well have been a toothpick. "Barnaby! Get over here!"
The cat didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled toward the children, hissing at the approaching bug.
"Serena, take the cat and run!" Ash commanded, stepping into the space between them and the Pinsir. "Head toward the light at the edge of the clearing. That's the way to the camp! Go!"