"Platinum"
That's the human name I chose—inspired by that rare, mysterious metal.
Honestly, I don't recall Giratina ever turning human in the games. Maybe something like a Ditto's illusion? But no—this was different. The Creator God gave me this ability. Did I accept it willingly? I don't even remember anymore. Some memories are better left buried.
The world's full of secrets anyway. Might as well add this to the list.
Back in my old life, Pokémon kept introducing new mechanics:
Gen 6: Mega Evolution broke evolution's limits.
Gen 7: Z-Moves powered up attacks with ridiculous dances.
Gen 8: Dynamax made everything giant.
But comparing human-made mechanics to a god's power? That was a mistake.
Still… when I realized this was a game world, something inside me reignited. That old curiosity. That wanting to explore.
First step? Find the protagonist. They've got to be around here somewhere. No rush—I've got time.
Right now, though, I should probably turn back. If anyone saw Giratina just… standing here, things would get messy.
The transformation comes instinctively, like controlling a lucid dream. Human. I need to be human again.
And just like that—I shrink, the power receding. Hands flex, fingers curl. Such a simple thing, but after being a legendary Pokémon, even this feels… strange.
Alive.
I set off through the forest on unsteady human legs, only to stumble almost immediately. With a wry laugh, I realized how silly this was - I could simply fly using a Pokémon's help. After so long without traveling, I'd forgotten even the most basic conveniences.
Tapping the device on my wrist, I browsed through my Pokémon options. While Giratina could certainly fly, the sight of a legendary terror soaring through the skies would probably send villagers into panic. I needed something more... ordinary.
Charizard immediately came to mind - that fan-favorite dragon-like Pokémon from my past life. With both impressive power and widespread recognition, it was the perfect choice. A Pokéball materialized before me as if by magic, a phenomenon I'd grown accustomed to.
With a burst of flame and a triumphant roar, Charizard appeared. Its fiery tail blazed so intensely that nearby Grass-types scurried away in fright.
"Still more popular than me, I see," I mused.
Charizard cocked its head quizzically, flames flickering in confusion.
"Never mind," I said with a chuckle, scratching under its chin. Its responding purr-like growl warmed my heart - this was why first-generation Pokémon remained so beloved.
[What's the plan today?] Charizard's voice rumbled in my mind. My unique nature allowed me to understand Pokémon speech perfectly.
"Just thought of something amusing," I replied. "But first, let's find civilization - a town or city will do."
[Alright.]
My fingers traced Charizard's warm scales as we shared a quiet moment of understanding. Its contented rumble vibrated beneath my palm - this simple connection brought me more joy than I'd felt in ages.
As I climbed onto Charizard's back, an unfamiliar lightness tugged at my lips. Had I looked in a mirror, I might have seen traces of that carefree child I once was.
With powerful wings beating, we ascended. The ground fell away as warm updrafts caressed us. Cool winds played across my face, carrying scents of pine and distant rain. Then - there it was.
Nestled between rolling hills, a quaint village glowed like an ember in the dusk. Smoke curled from chimneys, painting the sky with promises of hearth and home. Something primal in my chest tightened at the sight.
"Let's land," I murmured. Charizard tucked its wings and dove, wind roaring past us until its claws touched earth with surprising gentleness.
The village shouldn't have been familiar. Yet every thatched roof, every winding path struck chords of memory. My breath hitched when I spotted the figure by the Pokécenter - an elderly man in a lab coat, his silver-streaked hair catching the sunset.
No. It couldn't be...
"Grandpa!" The call tore from my throat before I could stop it, thick with unexpected longing.
He turned with the careful movements of age, wrinkles framing kind eyes that crinkled at the corners. "Yes, Dear?"
My voice barely rose above a whisper. "What... what's this town called?"
His smile could have warmed a thousand winters. "Why, this is Pallet Town."
"Pallet Town!"
The name escaped my lips before I could stop it. This unassuming village was hallowed ground - where every Kanto trainer's journey begins. And standing before me, the man who started it all...
"Pardon me, but might I ask your name?" I inquired, feigning ignorance.
The elderly scholar adjusted his glasses. "I'm Professor Oak. My life's work revolves around Pokémon research."
"Platinum," I offered in return, carefully controlling my expression.
Professor Oak of Pallet Town. To think I'd encounter gaming royalty so soon. I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something foolish.
Was this sheer luck? Perhaps my questions would find answers more easily than anticipated.
In my world, Oak was legendary - the brilliant mind behind the Pokédex. Though we'd never met, I felt like I knew him through countless playthroughs. That familiarity made this encounter feel... natural.
"I'd heard the foremost Pokémon expert resides in Kanto," I said smoothly. "I came hoping to meet him."
Oak's bushy eyebrows rose. "Is that so? How... unexpected."
A flicker of doubt crossed my mind. Had I miscalculated?
I maintained my pleasant smile while rapidly reassessing. As the region's most respected academic, surely Oak received visiting researchers often. Perhaps I should—
"The trainers who visit usually come for another reason," Oak continued, eyes twinkling. "This humble town happens to be the champion's birthplace."
Champion? My pulse quickened. Now we were getting somewhere.
"Which champion might that be?" I asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.
"The current Kanto champion," Oak continued, "is Blue."
Blue?
Not Red... but Blue?
My grip tightened on Charizard's pokéball as decades-old memories resurfaced. In the games, Blue had briefly held the championship before being dethroned by Red. If Blue was champion now... did that mean Red had already defeated him? Or had history changed?
Oak studied Charizard with a knowing smile. "Your partner reminds me of that boy's Charizard. I can see the marks of countless battles in its eyes. You must be quite the trainer yourself."
That boy. It could only mean Red. The professor's comparison sent an unexpected warmth through my chest - to be measured against the legendary trainer himself.
"Thank you," I managed, before curiosity overrode caution. "Speaking of which... would you happen to know where Red is these days?"
Oak's glasses flashed as he straightened. "You know Red?"
"We've... crossed paths," I said carefully. Not entirely a lie - just not in this lifetime.
The professor's eyes sparkled like a child sharing a secret. "Red has secluded himself atop Mt. Silver."
Mt. Silver. Just like in the post-game content. But the timeline seemed scrambled - if Blue was champion while Red trained on Mt. Silver, this world blended elements from different generations.
A cold realization settled in my stomach: this wasn't a perfect replica of the games. The rules had shifted. The anime's continuity might bleed in. Or perhaps this world had its own unique history.
No - I shook my head. Obsessing over inconsistencies would only drive me mad. This was no longer a game with set parameters, but a living world. I needed to accept it as such.
"...Mt. Silver, you say?" I mused. "What perfect timing."
Mt. Silver - that sacred peak modeled after Japan's own hallowed mountains - loomed in my imagination, its snow-capped heights exhaling frost into my thoughts. The games had never conveyed just how bitterly cold that mountain was; pixels couldn't make players shiver.
I'd always hated snow. Even in my past life, I'd preferred seasons that warmed the bones rather than froze the blood. Now I understood why - Giratina's draconic essence recoiled at ice's touch, an instinctive aversion to its elemental weakness made manifest.
If I must climb that accursed mountain, I mused, rubbing my arms at the mere thought, I'll do so as a human. Or better yet - with a fire-type companion curled around my shoulders.
A wry smile tugged at my lips. How strange to imagine meeting the silent legend himself - that pixelated protagonist who spoke only in ellipses. Would the real Red be as taciturn? Would his eyes hold the weight of all those battles fought beyond the screen?
The anticipation curled warm in my chest, a counterpoint to my dread of the cold. Somewhere beyond those frozen peaks waited answers... and perhaps the most fascinating conversation partner in this world.