It took Cynthia a full thirty seconds to explain the situation to Professor Oak. Even for a man who had seen everything in the world of science, the news was staggering.
"Is such a thing truly possible?" Oak's voice crackled with a mix of academic skepticism and raw excitement.
Cynthia had commissioned him months ago to find any scrap of data on the "Sky Dragon." Despite his vast network and expeditions into the deepest reaches of Hoenn, he had come up empty. No ancient scales, no genetic traces, nothing but whispers in crumbling texts. And now, Cynthia was telling him this legendary creature was the cover star of an indie video game.
But the skepticism vanished the moment he looked at the Lileep screenshot again. The developer hadn't just "guessed" the anatomy; they had refined it. The structural markers on the tentacles and the calculated density of the rock-like plating surpassed Oak's own laboratory models.
If this person can reconstruct a fossil with this much precision, Oak mused, his eyes bright with a fire he hadn't felt in years, their understanding of ancient biology must be decades ahead of ours.
"What was the name of this game again?" Oak asked. "I believe I need to see this for myself."
"Professor? You want to play too?" Cynthia was genuinely taken aback. Oak was nearly seventy; "video games" and "top-tier global researcher" didn't usually occupy the same sentence.
"Ho ho! Don't let the white hair fool you, Cynthia! My body might be weathered, but my spirit is as restless as a Primeape's. Back in my day, I was a trainer who could have given you a run for your money!"
Cynthia smiled. She knew the legends. Before he was the world's premier professor, Samuel Oak had been a Champion-caliber trainer. His love for Pokémon had simply pivoted from the battlefield to the laboratory.
"I'll send you the link, Professor. But be warned, this game is unforgiving. You'll need to take it seriously."
"It's just a game, my dear! How hard can it be? I've been known to dabble in a few titles in my spare time. Don't worry, if this old man clears it first, I'll pass the contact info straight to you."
"Thank you, Professor," Cynthia said, though she felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Wasn't that exactly what I said before I started?
After hanging up, Cynthia returned her focus to the screen. Watching Iono's stream had been educational. She now understood the "Wall of Rustboro." Roxanne's Lileep was a masterpiece of defensive stall, High Special Defense, Leftovers for passive healing, Synthesis for burst recovery, and Confuse Ray to induce self-sabotage.
In her world, Cynthia had faced trainers who specialized in "Defense-Counter" tactics. She knew how to break a stall. But in a game's early stages, with a limited Pokédex, the difficulty of that Lileep was magnified tenfold.
She watched as Iono's Joltik, dazed by confusion, bit its own face to faint. Cynthia couldn't help a small, elegant chuckle as she closed the tab. Seeing the usually boisterous Electric-type specialist turn bright red with fury was a rare treat.
But she had her own problems. To get to the Gym, she first had to get past the "Black-Haired Boy" waiting at the end of the route.
Cynthia reactivated her camera and mic. "Sorry for the wait, everyone. Just a quick professional call."
The chat flooded with "Welcome back!" and "Who was it? Steven? Lance?" but Cynthia's attention was caught by a new pop-up on the game client.
[UPDATE NOTICE: v0.2]
Weather System: Regional and time-based weather now impacts battle mechanics and world events.Enhanced Personality AI: Pokémon and NPCs now possess distinct temperaments and emotional states.Particle FX Optimization: Enhanced visual flair for all moves.Map Expansion: Dewford Town and the second Gym are now live!
Two updates in two days? Cynthia blinked. This "Cliff" worked with terrifying speed.
She re-entered the game and walked her character out of the Pokémon Center. That's when she noticed it. Her Treecko, usually a stoic sprite following behind her, was acting differently. It wasn't just following; it was trailing several paces back, its tiny pixelated arms crossed over its chest. It was chewing on its twig with an aggressive, rhythmic speed. It looked... miserable.
Cynthia pressed 'E' to interact, attempting to pet its head.
The Treecko sprite suddenly hopped back, avoiding her hand entirely. "Chamo, !" it cried out, the text box radiating a sense of cold disdain.
The chat went wild. "Wait, the AI is actually mad at her for losing?!" "This is too real! My Gible used to do this when I messed up his snacks!"
Cynthia looked at the screen, a soft sigh escaping her. She didn't use a command. She spoke directly into the mic, her voice warm and sincere.
"Treecko... I am truly sorry for those last two battles. The failure wasn't yours; it was mine as a strategist. I promise you, I will find a way to let your strengths shine. I won't force you into an unfair fight again. I'll make sure that no matter how tough the opponent is, you'll always have a path to victory. Will you give me another chance to be your partner?"
The Treecko sprite stood still. It turned its head toward the player character, its little tail twitching tentatively. It moved two steps closer, looking up.
"Chamo, cha." [Treecko has begrudgingly accepted your apology. However, it expects action, not just words. It also implies that if you send it out against another Fire-type, it's going on strike.]
The chat exploded with laughter and awe. "This AI is miles ahead of Battle Path! It's not just code; it's a personality!" "I want a Tsundere Treecko too!"
But Cynthia wasn't laughing. Her mind had drifted back years, to a younger version of herself standing in a field with a newly hatched, stubborn Gible. She had made a similar promise that day after a humiliating loss, a promise to become a trainer worthy of her Pokémon's trust.
She had kept that promise. And looking at this grumpy, pixelated Treecko, Cynthia felt that old fire rekindling.
It feels like I'm becoming a trainer all over again.