We drifted back toward home on the wind.
Grandma and Grandpa rode ahead on Gyarados, the massive serpentine body cutting cleanly through the air as if sky and sea were the same to it. I followed slightly above and behind on Pidgeot, keeping pace easily.
Below us, Apoorv and the others had already decided walking was overrated. They'd gone back toward the shoreline, laughing, splashing water at each other, Pikachu chasing Wingull while Piplup and Totodile dove headfirst into the sea like they'd been born there.
For once, I let them be.
As we flew, something else caught my eye.
On Gyarados's back—tucked close against Grandma's side—was another Pokémon.
Small.
Misshapen.
Covered in scars and dull patches.
An ugly fish.
Feebas.
It pressed itself closer to Grandma, tail flicking nervously every time the wind shifted. She patted it gently, murmuring something I couldn't hear from this distance.
I blinked once.
Then smiled.
"That's your grandma's Pokémon," Grandpa said, glancing back at me over his shoulder.
I nodded slowly. "Figures."
I wasn't surprised by the choice—not even a little.
Grandma had always had a soft spot for outcasts. Stray dogs. Injured cats. Birds with broken wings. She brought them home, fed them, scolded anyone who complained, and nursed them back to health with a stubbornness that bordered on defiance.
Feebas fit her perfectly.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, another image formed—graceful, radiant, powerful.
Milotic.
Yes.
Very suitable.
I looked over at Grandpa. "How do you even know Pokémon species names?"
He snorted and reached into his pocket mid-flight like this was the most normal thing in the world. He pulled out his phone and held it up.
The Pokédex app glowed clearly on the screen.
"My grandson made such an amazing app," he said proudly. "How could I not use it? Or did you think I'm some old relic like your gra—"
SLAP.
The sound was sharp enough that even Pidgeot flinched.
Grandpa yelped, clutching the back of his head.
Grandma's voice cut through the air, calm but lethal.
"Once you start boasting, your mouth forgets where to stop," she said. "Wait till Aakash leaves. Then I'll show you who's an old relic."
She leaned closer, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Even Gyarados can't save you."
Gyarados let out a low sound.
Not a roar.
A whimper.
An actual, honest-to-Arceus whimper.
I stared.
Grandma continued, unfazed. "I'm sure you remember what happened the last time you took him out to sea when you were about to get beaten by me."
Gyarados dipped slightly in the air, tail curling in what looked suspiciously like guilt.
I covered my mouth with my hand and turned away, shoulders shaking.
Once we landed back at home, I didn't even give myself time to process everything I'd just seen.
The moment my feet touched the ground, I turned to Grandpa.
"Alright," I said. "You need to tell me exactly what's going on here."
He raised an eyebrow. "Straight to business, huh?"
"Yes," I replied flatly. "And while you're at it—why do the officials have no knowledge of any of this?"
Grandpa's expression shifted.
Not angry.
Annoyed.
"Officials?" he scoffed. "You mean Mhatre. Malvan office."
My jaw tightened. I knew the name.
"He's an arrogant prick," Grandpa continued bluntly. "We went to register our Pokémon properly. Followed the rules. Filled the forms."
Grandma crossed her arms.
"And do you know what he said?" she asked coolly.
I already didn't like where this was going. "What?"
"He looked at Feebas," Grandpa said, jaw tightening, "and said an ugly fish like that couldn't possibly be a Pokémon."
Silence fell hard.
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
"So he shooed us away," Grandma continued, voice steady but sharp beneath the calm. "Told us not to waste his time."
I exhaled slowly.
This wasn't a system failure.
This was a human one.
Ugly.
Small.
Personal.
I looked at Feebas again—now peeking out nervously from behind Grandma's arm.
And then I looked at Gyarados.
At Tropius.
At the fields.
At the fishermen.
At the balance they'd built quietly, patiently, without permission.
I clenched my fist once.
Then let it go.
"Alright," I said quietly. "I understand now."
Grandpa studied my face. "You angry?"
I shook my head.
"No," I said. "I'm… informed."
That was worse.
Because now?
Someone had just taught me exactly where the next correction needed to happen.
"Alright," Grandpa said, leaning back slightly, eyes drifting toward the sound of the waves outside."Let me tell you everything from the beginning."
"We went for our usual walk on the beach the morning after the Merge began. I wanted to check on the other fishermen—some of them had gone out to sea the previous night."
His voice slowed.
"We lost a few that night."
The room fell quiet.
"That morning," he continued, "we found two fish washed ashore. Fish we had never seen before. One was bright red, with something like a crown on its head. The other was… ugly. Scarred. Barely alive."
Magikarp.
Feebas.
"At first, we tried pushing them back into the sea," he said. "But no matter how many times we did, the waves kept throwing them back."
Grandma nodded beside him.
"So we brought them to the artificial pond behind the house," Grandpa went on. "Didn't know what they were. Didn't know they were Pokémon. Just knew they were alive."
"News started spreading soon after," he said. "Strange creatures everywhere. Panic in towns. Fear on the radios."
He paused briefly, then smiled faintly.
"About a week later—around the time you started those livestreams of yours—we found something else."
"A baby elephant," Grandma added calmly.
Grandpa chuckled. "Yes. A strange little elephant. Trying to drink milk from cows. Couldn't drink directly from the cows—kept failing, poor thing. So your grandma collected milk in a wide basin and left it out."
"At first, it only came when it was truly hungry," he said. "Would drink quickly and run away."
"Then the times became fixed."
"Then it stayed longer."
"And before we knew it," he smiled, "it was helping us with manual labor. Moving things. Carrying loads. Clearing paths."
"We named it Gaja."
My chest tightened.
"Magikarp and Feebas didn't interact much with us at the start," Grandpa continued. "They just swam in circles. Aimless. Quiet."
"Then we heard more about your streams," he said. "That these creatures were called Pokémon. That bonding mattered."
"Around that time, Savali arrived," he added, gesturing vaguely outside.
"Tropius," Grandma said fondly. "Very peaceful. Fell in love with our mangoes."
Grandpa nodded. "During all this, the sea was becoming more dangerous. Ferries were grounded. No one dared go far out."
"About a month later," he said slowly, "the Passimian tribe came."
His jaw tightened.
"At first, they were aggressive. Wanted this land as their territory. Savali fought a few of them—but there were too many. She fainted."
"They attacked the pond too," Grandpa said quietly. "Attacked Magikarp. Attacked Feebas."
"Magikarp was tossed," he continued. "Out of the water. Just… flopping on the ground."
He exhaled.
"Then the leader of the Passimian attacked me."
Grandma's hand tightened around his.
"We had already accepted our afterlives," Grandpa said bluntly.
Then he stopped.
"There was a flash behind us," he said.
His voice lowered.
"And Gyarados appeared."
He shook his head once.
"Well—there was no 'then' after that."
"Gyarados crushed the Passimian leader. Completely into a paste. And then took on the entire tribe alone."
"It was enraged," Grandpa admitted. "Pure fury. Red burning in its eyes."
He looked at me.
"It was only when I approached it—when I spoke to it, tried to calm it—that the red faded."
Grandpa exhaled.
"That evolution didn't come from hunger. Or anger alone," he said. "It came from fear."
He looked at me then—really looked.
"When the Passimian attacked your grandma… when they tried to kill us… Magikarp didn't evolve to fight for territory."
His jaw tightened.
"It evolved to protect."
The room felt smaller.
"Gyarados didn't obey us," he continued. "It didn't wait for commands. It reacted to threat."
He chuckled dryly. "Frankly, I think if it hadn't known us for weeks by then, it might've crushed us too."
Grandma snorted. "Speak for yourself. It listens to me just fine."
Gyarados, visible through the doorway, immediately lowered its head.
I stared.
This wasn't a trainer story.
This wasn't strategy.
This was… coexistence, stripped bare of theory and bureaucracy.
"That," Grandpa finished quietly, "was how everything began."
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