"Damn… that scared me half to death."
Ethan jolted awake, drenched in sweat.
His dream still clung to him—swarms of Beedrill and herds of Tauros chasing him endlessly. No matter how he ran, they filled the horizon, wings and hooves pounding behind him.
He sat up, taking several deep breaths until his pulse steadied. The room was intact. No damage, no chaos.
Snorlax lay curled at his feet, drooling happily in its sleep. The ancient Poké Ball was still clutched in Ethan's hand. The only thing missing was the Haunter.
"And the Silver Feather…"
He patted his bag frantically until his fingers brushed the glowing plume. Relief flooded him. "Good. Both safe. At least this Haunter isn't like Gyarados—it didn't try to vaporize me at first sight."
Still, he frowned. "So where did it go?"
His mind drifted back to the dream. The endless chase, the voice asking if he knew a Champion named Gus. Ethan had denied it, only to be devoured by nightmares.
"Is it… looking for its trainer?" he murmured. "After a hundred years, does it really still believe he's alive?"
He glanced at Snorlax, who snored peacefully, floor wet with drool. "No way you did this," Ethan muttered. "You're too busy eating in your sleep."
With a sigh, he recalled the glutton, pocketed the ancient Poké Ball, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and left the room.
From the hallway, a cry echoed faintly:
"Help, I'm not a professional! Tentacruel, save me!"
Ethan's lips twitched. So Ashan had nightmares too. Good. Misery loves company.
Downstairs, the landlady tossed on the sofa, whispering brokenly, "Moose… don't leave me…"
Ethan's expression softened. So it's not just me. Everyone's dreaming.
He stepped outside—and froze.
The entire street of Cinnabar Island was a nightmare come to life. Every person he passed lay collapsed, muttering, sweating, trapped in their own private horrors. Even Officer Jenny slumped against a wall, clutching her Growlithe desperately.
"Hold on, Growlithe! We'll make it to the Center, I promise…"
Ethan swallowed hard. "Level sixty… Champion rank… A Haunter like that could plunge the entire island into sleep."
He released Charizard in a burst of flame. "Find it. Before this spreads further."
They took to the skies. From above, Ethan spotted chairs and signs floating wildly in the northwest district. Shouts echoed faintly.
"There."
They descended—and Ethan's stomach clenched at the sight below.
Haunter hovered over the street, telekinesis flinging objects like toys. Dozens of townsfolk floated in the air, their eyes glazed.
"Gus! Where are you?" Haunter cried, its voice a desperate wail. "I'm your little ghost! Don't you want me anymore? Answer me! We still have so many journeys left!"
Each time a captive failed to satisfy its questions, it hurled them into the chanting crowd. A chorus of broken voices rose:
"Gus… Gus… Gus…"
A trainer dared to resist, sending out a Pidgeot. Haunter's eyes flashed. A single Shadow Ball crushed bird and trainer alike.
Ethan's throat went dry. "This thing… it could level the whole island if it wanted."
He clenched his fists. "If I don't act now, this won't stop."
Charizard growled uneasily, sensing his tension. Ethan patted its neck. "Relax. It hasn't killed me yet. If it wanted me dead, I'd already be gone."
Drawing a deep breath, Ethan cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted:
"Kid! I know your trainer—Gus!"
The chanting stopped. Bodies collapsed like puppets with cut strings.
Haunter froze midair, eyes wide. Slowly it turned upward, voice trembling. "You… you know Gus?"
Its words pierced Ethan's skull directly—telepathy.
He forced a smile, hand sliding into his pocket where the ancient Poké Ball waited. "Of course. He sent me to pick you up. He misses you, but couldn't come himself. So he asked me to bring you back."
Haunter's eyes gleamed, hope blazing like fire after a century of darkness. It drifted closer, trembling with excitement.
But as it neared, its expression twisted. Its eyes narrowed.
"No… You're lying."
The voice hit Ethan's mind like a hammer.
"I saw your dreams. You claimed to be Champion of the world, defeating every trainer alive. Gus never said such things. You're not his friend. You're a liar!"
Ethan's blood ran cold as Haunter's fury surged. Shadowy tendrils lashed outward, ready to punish him.
He moved first.
From his pocket, he snapped out the ancient Poké Ball, twisting the mechanism.
"Sorry," Ethan said through gritted teeth. "But the most unreliable thing in this world… is a man's mouth."
The ball's pull activated, sucking Haunter inside in a single, blinding flash.
"Got you."
He slammed the switch shut, sealing it tight.
Charizard landed beside him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Ethan coughed, scratching the back of his neck. "What I meant was—the full saying is 'a man's mouth deceives ghosts.' That's how you handle cunning Ghost-types. You trick them."
Charizard tilted its head, considering. After a moment, it rumbled softly and looked away.
Ethan exhaled, relief washing over him. "Come on. Back to the hotel. We'll pack up tonight and head for Kanto in the morning. Cerulean Gym's waiting… and after that, James's mansion."
Charizard spread its wings. Ethan climbed aboard, clutching the sealed ball.
For now, the island was safe.
But in his palm, the ancient Poké Ball felt heavier than ever.