The road east from Saffron wound into quiet hills, the lively chatter of Vermilion fading behind them. As dusk fell, fog began to creep along the ground, curling around their ankles. The group slowed as the dirt path narrowed, their footsteps muffled by the mist.
"There's something… off about this place," Misty muttered, hugging herself. "Even the air feels colder."
"It's not just you," Brock said. His voice was low, serious. "This is Lavender Town. People say restless spirits linger here."
Ash's Pikachu shivered, its ears flat against its head. Ash knelt to comfort it, though he himself looked pale. "I heard stories too… about the Pokémon Tower. Ghosts crying at night, shadows that follow you…"
But Ren, Ren was calm. In fact, he looked almost serene, his dark eyes half-lidded as though the fog was an old friend welcoming him home. Ghastly floated eagerly at his side, its tongue lolling in gleeful anticipation.
"This is the heart of Kanto's mourning," Ren murmured. "A place where bonds end… and yet endure."
Cael, walking just behind, gave him a sidelong glance. "You sound like you've been here before."
Ren's lips tugged into the faintest smirk. "Perhaps I have. In dreams."
The others exchanged uneasy looks. Misty rolled her eyes. "Great. The creep is in his element."
Ren didn't respond. The closer they drew to the village, the lighter his steps became.
The town itself was hushed, subdued. Wooden houses leaned together on narrow streets, their windows glowing faintly with dim lantern-light. Wind chimes rattled gently, though no breeze stirred. The smell of incense clung to the air, thick and sweet, masking something older beneath the musk of stone and ash.
Villagers whispered as the travelers passed. Some bowed slightly to Brock, recognizing him as the Pewter Gym Leader's brother. But their eyes lingered on Ren and Ghastly.
"Another ghost child," one woman whispered, clutching her rosary. "The Tower calls to him."
Ren caught the words but said nothing. His hand stroked the notebook tucked under his arm, almost absently.
At the center of town, it rose above them: the Pokémon Tower.
Seven stories of stone and wood, its spire piercing the fog like a spear of mourning. Rows of gravestones surrounded its base, incense burners glowing dimly between them. A great bronze bell tolled somewhere within slow, resonant, the sound of grief echoing through the bones.
Misty took an involuntary step back. "We… we're actually going in there?"
Ash puffed out his chest, though his knees knocked. "Of course! Ghosts or no ghosts, I'm not scared!"
Pikachu squeaked skeptically, clinging tighter to his shoulder.
Ren tilted his head back, gazing at the Tower with quiet reverence. "Home," he whispered.
Only Cael, standing nearest him, heard the word. She frowned, unsettled by the strange softness in his tone.
The caretaker, an elderly monk, met them at the base of the Tower. His voice was hoarse, his expression weary. "The spirits are restless tonight," he warned. "I would advise you children to stay away."
"We came to help," Ash declared firmly. "If something's wrong, we'll set it right."
The monk hesitated, but then his eyes settled on Ren. For a moment, he stiffened then bowed slightly, as if recognizing something in him. "Very well. Enter, but tread lightly. The dead listen."
Inside, the air was heavier still. The scent of incense was overpowering, mixed with candle wax and damp stone. Gravestones lined the walls, each etched with names and dates. The floor creaked under their steps, though Ren seemed to glide noiselessly.
A low wail drifted from above. Misty yelped, clutching Brock's arm. Even Ash faltered.
But Ren? His expression didn't change. He whispered something under his breath words no one else could catch and Ghastly surged ahead, weaving joyfully among the shadows.
They climbed. On the second floor, wild Haunters flickered into being, their distorted laughter echoing against the walls. Cael's Machop bristled, ready to strike.
But Ren raised a hand. "No. Watch."
He stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Be calm."
Ghastly spun around him, releasing a pulse of eerie light. The Haunters froze mid-laughter, their shapes quivering. Slowly, their glow softened, their forms dimming. One by one, they sank back into the shadows of the walls, leaving silence behind.
Ash's mouth dropped. "You… you just talked them down?"
Ren turned back, expression unreadable. "Ghosts understand tone more than fists. Respect them, and they return it."
Cael's Machop snorted, clearly unimpressed. But Cael herself couldn't take her eyes off Ren.
Of course, trouble wasn't far. On the fourth floor, Jessie and James appeared with Meowth, lugging a sack of Poké Balls.
"Prepare for trouble!"
"And make it double!"
Their voices wavered under the echoing moans of the Tower, but they still struck their pose.
Ren sighed. "Predictable."
Before they could finish their rhyme, shadows along the walls stirred. Ghastly giggled and multiplied into a dozen phantoms, circling Team Rocket.
Jessie shrieked. James tripped over a tombstone, screaming. Meowth yowled, fur standing on end.
"Wh-what's going on?! Ghosts everywhere!" Jessie wailed.
"G-get them off, get them off!" James flailed wildly.
Ash sweatdropped. "Uh… should we help them?"
Ren's smirk was razor-thin. "The Tower is teaching them respect."
The shadows swarmed. By the time Team Rocket scrambled down the stairs, their sack of Poké Balls forgotten, their screams echoed so loudly the villagers outside would swear the Tower itself was crying.
As they ascended higher, the air grew colder. Even Brock shivered now, and Misty wouldn't let go of Ash's sleeve.
But Ren moved like a man in a dream, his gaze focused upward.
On the sixth floor, he stopped. His breath slowed. His hand clenched his notebook.
"What is it?" Cael asked quietly.
Ren's voice was faint. "It's here."
The others looked around only the dim glow of incense, the stone walls, the flickering candles. Nothing unusual.
But in the corner of Ren's vision a flicker. A ripple of shadow against the gravestones. Two small, glowing eyes stared back.
Ren's chest tightened. "…You again."
"Ren?" Ash's voice was tentative. "You see something?"
Ren didn't answer. He took a step forward. The eyes blinked then vanished into mist.
But he knew. He knew.
The caretaker insisted they rest before reaching the seventh floor. "At night, the veil is thinnest," he warned. "You'll need strength."
They set camp in a corner of the sixth floor. Ash and Misty whispered nervously, glancing at the gravestones. Brock meditated, trying to keep calm. Cael sat polishing Machop's fists.
Ren sat apart. A single candle flickered at his side, casting shadows across his face as he scribbled notes furiously.
Ghastly floated silently above him, unusually still.
Cael watched him for a long time before finally asking, "…You really don't get scared, do you?"
Ren didn't look up. "Fear is for those who don't belong."
"…And you think you belong? Here?"
He raised his gaze, and his eyes caught hers dark, calm, certain. "This place breathes with me. The shadows know me. Do you not feel it too?"
Cael swallowed. For the first time, she couldn't muster a retort.
Later, as the others dozed, Ren remained awake, staring into the flickering dark. His candle sputtered, nearly guttering out.
And then a whisper, low, curling through his mind like smoke.
"Do you seek to walk among shadows?"
Ren's pen froze over his page. His heartbeat quickened, but his lips curved faintly.
"…Yes."
The shadows seemed to deepen around him. Ghastly stirred, eyes glowing. The Tower itself seemed to sigh.
And the candle finally went out.