It started like any normal day.
Midnight Daddy had knocked over my alarm clock at 6 a.m. to demand fresh Poképuffs. Chadlax was asleep on top of the inn's vending machine because he'd gotten stuck up there last night and simply didn't care anymore. Karen the Sylveon was reorganizing my bag by color (again), and Tax Fraud had chewed through the window frame out of boredom.
Just a normal day for a Pokémon trainer-slash-save file god.
I yawned, rubbed my eyes, and pulled open my game menu to check on my items.
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
Because something new was glowing in red letters at the top of the screen.
SYSTEM ALERT: PLAYER TWO HAS JOINED THE GAME
"Oh," I said aloud. "That's probably fine."
Let's Back Up a Bit
After the whole "accidentally crushing a child's dream" tournament, I decided to lay low and not cause any more attention.
So naturally, I went to the biggest Poké Mart in the region and tried to buy everything.
Look, I had infinite Pokédollars in my save file, okay? If that's not an invitation to throw economic stability off a cliff, I don't know what is.
I walked in like I owned the place. Midnight Daddy hopped up on the counter. Karen floated beside me, humming. Chadlax lagged behind, dragging a box of rare candies labeled "Not For Customers." Tax Fraud attempted to eat the price scanner.
The clerk looked up from behind the register. She was maybe 16, had tired eyes, and wore a name tag that said: "Amber (I Don't Get Paid Enough for This)"
She stared at me.
Then at the Pokémon.
Then back at me.
"Are you… the guy with the shiny Umbreon that toxic-stalled a Salamence to death yesterday?"
I nodded modestly. "Yeah. That was him." I pointed at Midnight Daddy, who posed like he was about to drop an album.
Amber squinted. "You don't exist in the Trainer Registry."
"Right."
"You're buying a hundred of everything."
"Technically, it's 999 of everything."
"…Right."
She leaned forward, staring me directly in the soul.
"You're not from this world, are you?"
Midnight Daddy knocked over the counter bell. Just to be dramatic.
The Poké Mart Gets Weird
Amber took me to the back room.
Which, apparently, had a basement.
Which, apparently, had a server room.
Which, apparently, had a hidden monitor with code running in real time.
I stared at the screen. It looked like the Matrix had barfed into Notepad.
"This," Amber said, "is where the simulation updates itself. You weren't supposed to appear. But now you're here, and the system's having… issues."
"You're telling me this whole world is—what? A game?"
"No," she said. "It's real. But it's built on a game. A very old one."
"…Gen 3?"
"Worse. Emerald with the Battle Frontier still broken."
I gasped.
She pointed at a red line of text scrolling across the screen.
WARNING: Unauthorized User Detected - Designation: SaveFile_God
"That's you," she said.
"I feel seen."
"That's not a compliment."
Meanwhile, Outside
While I was busy having a digital existential crisis, Midnight Daddy was absolutely throwing paws in the alley behind the Poké Mart.
Turns out, a gang of Meowths — known locally as the Meowfia — had challenged his shiny authority.
He was outnumbered 7 to 1.
Did that stop him?
Absolutely not.
Witnesses say he:
Parried a Fake Out with his tail.
Tanked a Fury Swipes with Swagger.
Used Toxic on their leader, waited exactly five turns, then used Moonlight while maintaining eye contact.
He didn't just win. He got them to apologize and swear loyalty.
When I came outside, he was being carried on a throne made of cardboard pizza boxes.
I blinked.
Karen clapped daintily. Chadlax was asleep on a stack of stolen fish.
"Is this normal now?" I asked.
"Yes," said Amber behind me. "Yes, it is."
Back to the Real Problem: Player Two
Later that night, I was scrolling through my interface, pretending not to be alarmed, when I noticed it again.
SYSTEM ALERT: PLAYER TWO HAS JOINED THE GAME
"Who the heck is Player Two?" I muttered.
The screen flickered.
A message appeared:
[Trainer Red] would like to battle.
I screamed.
Midnight Daddy narrowed his eyes.
Karen puffed up her fur.
Chadlax rolled over and mumbled "Not now, Steve."
I turned to my team and gulped. "Guys… if that's the real Red… we might actually be in danger."
Then another message popped up:
Trainer Red is observing you.
"Okay," I said. "Never mind. I hate this. I want a refund on existence."
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