With a snap of his fingers, Allen felt the world tilt—and the next thing he knew, he was gone.
"This... this is the Pokémon world!"
Allen stood in the middle of a sun-dappled forest, green leaves rustling in the breeze. The air was rich with the scent of earth and foliage, and strange, yet familiar creatures flitted through the trees and underbrush.
Brown birds with fierce eyes—Spearows—perched on the branches, casting wary glances his way. Green Caterpies squirmed along the tree trunks, and Weedles dangled in their cocoons as Kakuna. Purple and orange Rattatas scurried through the grass, twitching their whiskers.
These weren't Pokéfauna. These were real Pokémon.
"I actually made it…"
[Oops. Sorry about the bumpy entry. We had a minor space-time hiccup. You're technically not reincarnated yet. Still a floating soul.]
The divine voice echoed in Allen's mind like a glitchy intercom.
"So what now?" he asked aloud, glancing down. He had no body. No arms, no legs. Just a drifting wisp of consciousness, anchored by a translucent tail.
[Yeah, bit of a misfire. But don't worry. I can whip up a temporary body for you. No one's giving birth these days anyway.]
Before Allen could respond, he felt a surge of force. His tail began to vanish, replaced by legs, and his ghostly outline thickened into flesh. A puddle on the ground reflected his human form, and for the first time since his death, he felt solid.
Resurrected.
[You're back in business. You've got a physical body, though... you're technically undocumented.]
"Wait, won't Arceus notice me? I mean, this is his universe, right?"
[Relax. I cleared it with the big guy. He's too busy balancing creation to care. I may have told him you're a laborer he can use later.]
"...So I'm some kind of dimensional temp worker now?"
[Better than being dead.]
The god's voice sounded way too chipper for Allen's comfort.
[As compensation for the glitch, I'm giving you access to some mechanics from the world you didn't end up in. You'll get a system. Every good reincarnator gets one.]
Allen blinked. "You mean like those plug-in cheat systems from novels?"
[Exactly. Yours is already initializing. You've been assigned legal identity data. But before we get to the good stuff...]
There was a sudden rustle in the underbrush. The forest grew quiet.
[...You might want to focus on surviving.]
"...Huh?"
Allen turned—and froze.
Several Rattatas had emerged from the grass. Their whiskers twitched, and their beady eyes locked onto him like he was a walking Oran Berry. More Rattatas appeared, flanking him, sniffing the air. There had to be at least eight of them. Possibly more in hiding.
"Oh no."
While the Pokémon world was often depicted as whimsical and safe in games and anime, Allen knew the wild was a different story. Rattatas were territorial, and when one showed up, a dozen more usually followed. These weren't level 2 tutorial enemies. They were pack hunters. Real threats.
Even worse, Allen spotted a larger, bulkier figure looming behind the smaller ones.
A Raticate.
Its massive fangs looked like they could split a brick. Reinforced concrete? Forget about it. If this guy lunged, Allen was toast.
The Caterpies and Kakunas from earlier had vanished. Even the Spearows had gone quiet. This wasn't good.
"I'm just passing through. Honest!" Allen raised his hands slowly. "Sorry to disturb your turf. I'll be leaving now."
The Rattatas didn't budge.
Allen tried speaking in Japanese, the language he assumed made the most sense in the Pokémon world. But the response was immediate and aggressive. The lead Rattata bared its teeth, hissing loudly.
[Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. You don't have to speak Japanese here. The system auto-translates your native language. Speaking Japanese just ticks them off.]
"You're telling me this NOW?!"
Allen spun around to run—only to trip over a tree root and hit the ground hard.
The Rattatas charged.
"I'm going to die again!" he shrieked.
[Chill. System installation just hit phase two. Help's on the way.]
"Phase wha—?"
A blast of wind erupted behind him. A clean cut split the grass, trees, and earth in a wide arc. The incoming Rattatas were sent flying, bodies skidding through the dirt, knocked out cold by a precise and deadly strike.
Allen turned, jaw slack.
Standing between him and the hostile pack was a tall figure clad in deep blue armor. His entire body shimmered with heat, as if wrapped in living fire. Twin swords burned in his hands, the blue flames licking the air like a dancing inferno. Even his helmet glowed with an eerie light, his eyes glowing with white-hot intensity.
He looked like a medieval knight forged in the flames of Mt. Ember.
[This is your starter Pokémon. A Fire Swordsman Pokémon. Codename: Blazeblade.]
The divine voice returned with its usual smug tone.
[Since you now have legal Trainer status, you're allowed to command Pokémon. And this one is yours.]
Allen stared, speechless.
The blue knight turned to face him. The voice that echoed in Allen's mind was cold and calm—feminine, but unyielding.
[You. Are you my Trainer?]
"...Is this Pokémon too cool for this world?" Allen muttered.
He had never even practiced high jump back home, yet here he was, dropped into a forest full of wild Pokémon, nearly eaten alive, and now being protected by a Pokémon straight out of a sci-fi fantasy mashup.
The irony wasn't lost on him.
And so, Allen's new life began—with a burning sword, a snarky god, and a very angry rat problem.
***
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