Have you ever dreamed something that felt too real?
Until recently, Adrián had only heard rumors—stories and legends about so-called lucid dreams. He often wondered what he would do if he ever experienced one himself.
Until he did.
Or at least, that's what he thought.
It was an ordinary night. He came home from university exhausted. After eating a precooked meal, he reviewed a few notes and went to bed.
What should have been an uneventful night's rest turned into something extraordinary.
He found himself standing on an unfamiliar street, completely different from his city. Confused, he tried to understand what was happening. Had he sleepwalked? Been kidnapped? It didn't make sense.
The most reasonable explanation was that he was dreaming—especially after seeing strange creatures walking alongside people.
Pokémon. He remembered watching the anime and playing several of the games.
Although they looked far more realistic than their animated versions, he recognized many of them. It was both shocking and thrilling.
He didn't hesitate to approach them. Some trainers warned him not to touch, while others kindly allowed him to pet their Pokémon.
He was ecstatic. It was the best dream he'd had in months.
He decided to explore the city. Curiously, he didn't wake up; the dream seemed to last far longer than usual. That was when he saw her—a beautiful young woman sitting on a park bench, feeding a few Pidgey.
He was completely captivated. She was exactly what he had always imagined in a woman: long, dark hair slightly unkempt, covering one eye; a lovely face; a slender figure with subtle curves; and above all, a shy, somber aura.
Yes, that was his type. His brain clicked. He rationalized the situation: wasn't she the physical embodiment of his desires? If this was a dream, wasn't she a manifestation of his subconscious?
Convinced of that, he did something he'd never dare to do while awake—he talked to her.
He felt bold, confident. He tried cliché, cheesy lines he'd never used before. She only looked at him, puzzled, and ignored him. A little discouraged, he insisted, but she eventually walked away, slightly frightened.
He felt crushed.
Even in his dreams, was he unpopular?
Not long after, he "woke up." The dream had been so vivid that he remembered every detail.
Disappointed he hadn't won the girl over, he went about his day. He figured it would remain just a special dream.
But that night, he dreamed again. The same place. The same people. And there, in the park—her again.
He thought that since it was another dream, he could correct his mistakes from the previous night. To his surprise, she remembered him. When she saw him, she frowned. That unsettled him. Maybe it was one of those continuing dreams… or perhaps a lucid one.
He approached her more carefully this time. She didn't seem eager to talk, but at least she didn't leave.
As the days went by, their relationship improved. He hadn't expected to dream of the same world so many times, but it happened. For nearly two months, he dreamed of her—and that world.
He was amazed by his mind's ability to build something so intricate. It felt alive and coherent, not just a jumble of memories and images.
Conny, the girl of his dreams, told him how her world worked. Although it included Pokémon, it had little to do with the anime or games. Everything was far more brutal—Pokémon devoured each other and could attack humans if they weren't careful. Being a trainer wasn't a child's pastime but a dangerous profession, more like that of a wild-beast tamer.
The more she explained, the more he doubted. Had his mind really created all this? Still, he remained convinced it was only a dream.
Through persistence, Conny agreed to go out with him. He was as sweet as he could be, and after many dates—searching for Glameow, feeding Pidgey and Starly, and researching ghost-type Pokémon legends—she agreed to be his girlfriend.
The dreams started to blur. Not because he didn't understand what was happening, but because everything felt too real—tastes he had never experienced, objects he had never seen.
It was incredible to think his mind could invent all of it. He decided to stop overanalyzing and simply enjoy it.
Conny took him everywhere. Now that they were a couple, she opened up more—sharing her dreams, fears, and desires.
Some of her stories were sad. She had been shunned at the trainer academy for her obsession with ghost-type Pokémon, creatures capable of killing a person through nightmares or despair.
She seemed a little unstable, but he loved her that way.
During their outings, Adrián noticed how different that world was from the one he knew from the anime. In an alley, a Glameow might be devouring a Pidgey or a Rattata. In supermarkets, they sold Tauros meat and Corphish claws—the latter expensive, being imported delicacies.
He began to feel afraid. The dream was lasting longer than usual; he had been there for over a week. And, illogically enough, he could "sleep" and "wake up" without ever returning to his reality.
At first, he didn't care—he was enjoying himself too much. Conny had become affectionate, and hotel visits were now routine. Waking up with her in his arms felt normal.
But after a week, his sense of logic returned. Worry crept in.
Had he fallen into a coma?
Or had this never been a dream at all?
If it wasn't, how had he ended up there?
Disturbed, he said goodbye to Conny. She had spent all her savings on him. He felt ashamed, but there was nothing he could do—he had no money or identity in that world. Conny always insisted on paying.
Sitting in the park, he tried to think. When had these "dreams" begun? Had something triggered them?
He had to remember. He needed to know whether this was a dream—or not.
To clear his mind, he decided to watch the Pokémon in the park. With no money, all he could do was observe as the Pidgey and Starly fought over crumbs of bread tossed by old men. It was amusing—until it wasn't.
One Pidgey snatched a piece of bread from a Starly, and the latter, furious, lunged at it. The Pidgey retaliated, flapping its wings to create a small whirlwind that sent the Starly crashing into a bench.
People began to back away. Trainers prepared their Pokémon; everyone else ran.
He, naïvely, stayed.
And paid dearly for it.
The enraged Starly flapped its wings, releasing a blade of wind that slashed his arm. At first, he didn't understand—until he saw the blood.
He staggered back, terrified, but the Pidgey struck again, knocking the Starly straight into him. The impact drove the air from his lungs. Everything began to blur. Before losing consciousness, one thought crossed his mind:
It hurts.
How could it hurt if it was just a dream?
And then, everything went dark.