The road stretched endlessly before me, dull and uneventful. I'd set out hoping to encounter familiar faces—those legendary trainers from my memories—but so far, only Professor Oak had appeared. The temptation to scour the Distortion World for them nagged at me, but I resisted. Where was the joy in forcing a reunion? Some things were better left to chance. That, after all, was the essence of journeying.
Just as I resigned myself to another quiet day, something caught my eye.
A line of people—dozens, perhaps hundreds—snaked along the canyon's edge. They carried pickaxes, their backpacks bulging with supplies. Archaeologists? Treasure hunters? Their eager chatter buzzed like a swarm of Combee.
Curiosity got the better of me. I approached the nearest person, a sunburnt man with dirt caked under his nails.
"Where is everyone headed?"
His eyebrows shot up. "You don't know?" His tone dripped with disbelief, as if I'd asked why the sky was blue.
I clenched my jaw. This was why I despised human formalities. One misplaced word, and suddenly you were the rude one. Never mind that I could erase him from existence with a thought—no, I was the one expected to bow and scrape.
He puffed out his chest, relishing his chance to enlighten the ignorant. "Fossils were discovered near the canyon. We're digging for them."
"Ah." I offered no thanks, already turning away. His offended glare prickled against my back, but I refused to humor him further. Let him seethe. He'd never know how close he'd come to becoming a footnote in Giratina's list of regrettable incidents.
Fossils, though... That piqued my interest.
I knew the concept—remnants of creatures long turned to stone, echoes of a world that no longer existed. Pokémon, once vibrant and alive, now reduced to specimens trapped in rock. Some could even be revived, or so I'd heard.
How strange. Beings I'd once taken for granted were now relics, their names prefixed with "ancient." Time, it seemed, eroded everything.
Even legends.
My Pokémon PC defied time itself—a pocket dimension where life stood still, untouched by decay or extinction. The ancient creatures I'd collected centuries ago remained perfectly preserved, their breaths still warm, their hearts still beating.
Living fossils, by human standards.
Ammonite, its spiral shell gleaming as if freshly emerged from primordial seas.
Omastar, tentacles coiled in eternal readiness.
Aerodactyl, wings frozen mid-spread, forever poised to take flight.
If researchers ever glimpsed them, they'd lose their minds. "A scientific miracle!" they'd shriek before inevitably trying to cage them. I'd have to vanish them too—another nuisance to juggle.
Shaking my head, I turned from the fossil hunters—until a flash of red caught my eye.
That hat.
I'd know it anywhere.
Red stood near the canyon's edge, flanked by two others:
A spiky-haired man in an orange vest (Brock, Pewter's rock-obsessed Gym Leader).
A woman with side-swept hair and impractical battle attire (Misty, Cerulean's water specialist).
An odd trio. Games never paired them, but the anime...
Animation characters exist here too?
My boredom evaporated. If this world blended both canons, then—
Ash Ketchum must be around somewhere.
A grin spread across my face. What better way to liven up this stroll than by unleashing a living Aerodactyl at a fossil dig? The boy's dramatics alone would be worth it.
I trailed after Ash and his friends at a distance, blending into the throngs of fossil hunters. The canyon sprawled before us—jagged cliffs, winding paths, and swarms of people scouring every inch of the terrain like hungry Sandshrew. At this rate, they'd strip the place bare before Ash even got started.
"Why's everyone here?" Ash groaned, hands on his hips as he surveyed the chaos.
Misty shot him a look. "If we don't hurry, there'll be nothing left!"
Brock, ever the pragmatist, adjusted his vest. "Hold on. With this many people, maybe the 'fossil rush' is just a rumor. Ever think of that?"
Ash blinked. "...Huh. Good point."
I stifled a sigh. Hopeless. My plan to surprise them with a living fossil was crumbling faster than ancient sedimentary rock. Should I wait? Or force the moment?
Then—
A voice slithered through the crowd, sharp as a Zangoose's claw:
"You sure they planted the bombs right?"
Every hair on my neck stood up. That wasn't just ominous—it was familiar.
Ash and crew froze mid-step, heads whipping toward the sound.
"Ugh, like I'd trust those screw-ups!"
And there it was: Meowth, perched on a boulder, lips curled in a sneer. The talking Pokémon of Team Rocket.
Which meant—
"HEY! You doubtin' our skills, ya mangy furball?!"
Like a bad magic trick, Jessie and James materialized in a puff of smoke, striking their signature pose.
Perfect.
Chaos was back on the menu.
Jessie's voice dripped with irritation, but Meowth remained unfazed.
"Did you plant all the explosives?" the feline demanded.
"Of course!" James replied proudly. "One big boom and those hidden fossils will come raining down!"
...Were they trying to get caught? Their "secret" plan might as well have been broadcast on loudspeaker. Even by children's cartoon villain standards, this was painfully incompetent.
Ash's face darkened as the trio's scheme reached his ears. Without hesitation, Brock and Misty sprinted down into the valley to warn the others, while Ash charged straight toward Team Rocket.
I observed from a distance, mildly entertained as the chaos unfolded.
Jessie flicked a lighter with dramatic flair, igniting the fuse with a smirk. Ash was a second too late.
"Squirtle, I choose you!" he yelled. "Water Gun on that fuse!"
The blast of water missed by inches. What followed was a ridiculous chase—Ash and Squirtle bolting after the sparking fuse, Team Rocket scrambling to block them, their Pokémon adding to the pandemonium.
"Stop them!"
"Let it burn!"
The scene devolved into pure slapstick. In their frenzy, Jessie tripped over a rock, sending the entire Rocket team tumbling. Momentum carried them forward, limbs flailing, until Ash got caught in the mess. They rolled downhill in a tangled heap of bodies and Pokémon, screeching all the way.
They came to a stop right in front of the explosives.
The fuse was nearly spent.
As a last-ditch effort, Pikachu unleashed a Thunderbolt—but instead of cutting the fuse, the electricity struck the dynamite directly.
BOOM.
The explosion rocked the canyon, flames and black smoke erupting into the sky.
Ash and Team Rocket, still knotted together in their ridiculous pile, could only stare in horror as the blast surged toward them.
The explosion's force shattered the ground beneath them. With a deafening crunch, the earth gave way, swallowing Ash and Team Rocket whole. Rocks tumbled after them, sealing the chasm in a tomb of debris.
Silence.
Then—
...Did the plot just resolve itself?
I blinked. Maybe I was the protagonist here.
The canyon stood eerily quiet, the crowd of fossil hunters now vanished—likely fleeing the blast. Perfect. No witnesses.
With a flick of my wrist, I summoned three Poké Balls: Omastar, Kabutops, Aerodactyl. Ancient power thrummed at my fingertips.
A rift tore open before me, the Distortion World's whispers beckoning. Time to see what lay in the depths below—and whether Ash's legendary survival skills extended to this.