The light was not a gentle transition. It was a maelstrom of raw energy that ripped through me, less like a flash and more like a black hole that had swallowed me whole. My very soul felt stretched, pulled apart, and compressed back together in an instant. I ceased to be a person and became a chaotic mess of pure, unadulterated sensation—the deafening roar of a thousand chimes, the blinding luminescence of a star, and a nauseating, crushing force that squeezed the air from my lungs until I was sure they would burst. It was a sensory overload so profound it felt like a complete system shutdown.
And then, just as suddenly, it was over.
I slammed face-first into something soft, my body a heaving, agonizing mess. My stomach lurched, and without a moment's warning, I started to vomit. The metallic tang of bile instantly replaced the scent of pine and rich soil. My gut felt like it had been put through a meat grinder, and a wave of unrelenting nausea washed over me, forcing me to empty my stomach over and over again for what felt like an eternity. I was crying, gasping, and convulsing. This wasn't the heroic, beautiful start to an adventure I had always fantasized about. It was a terrifying, painful, and sickening arrival, a brutal and violent introduction to a new reality.
Amid my retching, a low, guttural growl reached my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut, a desperate, childish part of me convinced that this was all a terrible dream. The groaning of my stomach, the acrid smell, the agonizing pain—this was just a nightmare, and I would wake up any second. I tried to focus on the feel of the cool, damp earth beneath my cheek, hoping it would ground me back in my familiar world.
But the growl came again, closer this time, and the chittering of another creature followed it. I managed to stop heaving for a moment and lifted my head, my vision blurry. Through tear-filled eyes, I saw them. Two Pokémon. A small, dark-green Treecko, its leaf-like tail twitching with what looked like pure annoyance, and a much larger, reddish-brown Poochyena, its teeth bared in an aggressive snarl. The Poochyena took a menacing step forward, its ears pinned back, a low growl rumbling in its chest like a miniature earthquake. The Treecko seemed to find my predicament highly amusing, its eyes glinting with a mischievous spark.
Panic, cold and sharp, shot through me. This wasn't a dream. It couldn't be. This was real. Every fiber of my being screamed it. My knowledge of the Pokémon world, which had been a comfort just moments ago, became a source of pure, unadulterated terror. These weren't cuddly companions; they were wild animals, territorial and angry.
The growl turned into a roar, and the Poochyena charged, a flash of red and black fur. My mind, still grappling with the impossible reality, froze. I watched as the Pokémon lunged, its jaw snapping shut inches from my face, the stench of its breath making me gag. I screamed, scrambling backward, my mind barely registering the searing pain as a sharp thorn from a nearby bush tore into my palm.
The near-miss was the final shock my mind needed to snap back into full awareness. The fantasy was over. This was a hostile, terrifying world, and I was in immediate danger. The Treecko and Poochyena, enraged by my presence, began circling me. I did the only thing my panicked, adrenaline-fueled brain could think of: I ran.
I ran faster than I ever had in my life, a primal desperation overriding all pain and fatigue. I ignored the burning in my lungs and the screaming of my muscles, my senses hyper-alert to every rustle and snap of a twig behind me. I was lost in a blur of green, red, and brown, dodging trees and scrambling over roots, a nameless fear driving me forward. But as I ran, a new, unsettling sensation took hold of me. My legs felt short and stubby, and the distance between trees seemed to stretch on forever. I glanced down at my hands—they were small, almost childlike. My reflection in a shallow puddle revealed a face I hadn't seen in years, a face with a smudge of dirt on its cheek and a wide-eyed terror. I was a child again, no older than seven or eight years old. Everything was bigger, more menacing, more terrifying.
My feet, slick with sweat and moss, caught on a treacherous root, and I was airborne for a split second before gravity took over. I tumbled forward, my body twisting, and plunged off a small cliff, the ground below a blurry, unforgiving shadow.
My last thought was of Jirachi and the wish. What a fool I had been to believe in such a childish fantasy. My body slammed against the hard ground below, and a final, blinding wave of pain washed over me before everything went mercifully dark.