[Game Description: Pokémon: Ultimate Emerald (Lunatic Mode Exclusive Edition)]
The so-called Ultimate Emerald was not just a game; it was a digital crucible forged by fans. It was a heavily modified ROM hack of the original Pokémon Emerald, infused with the DNA of later generations.
It expanded the Pokédex to include hundreds of new creatures and overhauled the map with treacherous new terrain. But its true fame—or infamy—lay in its difficulty.
The AI in this version possessed a frightening level of competence. Opposing Trainers didn't just spam random moves; they strategized. They switched Pokémon to absorb hits, used setup moves like Swords Dance or Calm Mind at critical moments, and healed their team with surgical precision. Sometimes, it felt less like playing against a computer and more like battling a seasoned veteran.
To make matters worse, the level curve was brutal. The traditional strategy of "grinding until you're ten levels higher" simply didn't work here due to strict level caps imposed before each Gym Leader. Players were forced to rely on strategy, type matchups, and held items—concepts alien to most casual gamers.
The "Lunatic Mode" was exactly what it sounded like: a difficulty setting designed to shatter the human spirit.
And Liam Vance, being the sadist he was, had tweaked it even further using the System. He enhanced the AI to near-clairvoyant levels and introduced "flexible combat maneuvers," meaning NPCs could predict player switches.
In a world where everyone was a Trainer, where battling was life, Liam reasoned that a standard game would be too easy. To truly hook them, he had to break them first.
"System, can these modifications be implemented?" Liam asked, staring at the lines of code scrolling in his mind.
[Affirmative. Production can commence immediately.]
Liam nodded, his eyes reflecting the blue light of the screen. "Start."
The night dissolved into a blur of frantic typing and mental commands. The System accelerated his production speed exponentially, turning weeks of work into hours. Yet, Liam was a perfectionist. He spent the entire night polishing the pixel art, tweaking the dialogue, and ensuring the atmospheric music hit just the right notes of nostalgia and dread.
By the time the sun began to bleed through the thin curtains of his room, the file was ready.
Liam typed the final description, dragged the folder to the upload box on the Alliance Game Portal, and clicked the mouse.
A few tense seconds passed.
[Upload Successful]
Four large green characters. No error. No deletion.
"Finally," Liam breathed out, the tension leaving his shoulders in a rush.
He didn't bother turning off the computer. He stumbled away from the desk and collapsed face-first onto his narrow bed. The mattress was lumpy and the sheets smelled of old laundry detergent, but to him, it felt like a cloud.
Sleep claimed him instantly. His breathing deepened, rhythmic and heavy.
A few moments later, the shadows in the corner of the room seemed to ripple.
From the darkness behind the curtains, a small figure emerged. It floated silently, resembling a white wax candle. A deep, eerie purple flame flickered atop its head, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls. Its large yellow eyes glowed with a spectral hunger.
It was a Litwick.
Despite its deceptively cute appearance, the Pokédex entry for Litwick was chilling: It shines a light that absorbs the life energy of people and Pokémon, which becomes the fuel that it burns.
The Litwick swayed in the air, its flame dim and sputtering. It was starving. It needed fuel.
Its gaze landed on the sleeping figure on the bed. The boy's life energy... it smelled delicious. Like a rich, savory feast compared to the scraps it usually scavenged.
Just a little, the Litwick thought, its flame flaring slightly with anticipation. If I only eat a tiny bit of his soul, he won't even notice. Just a snack.
It drifted closer, the purple light illuminating Liam's peaceful face.
Miles away, in the Sinnoh Region.
It was Saturday morning. The sun was shining, Pidgeys were singing, and for most citizens of the Alliance, it was a day of rest.
On the "Psyduck Platform," the largest live-streaming site on the web, a dormant channel suddenly flickered to life.
Instantly, the view count skyrocketed. 10,000. 50,000. 100,000.
[System Notification: User 'Cynthia' has started a live stream!]
"She's here! She's here! The Queen has returned!"
"AHHHH! I called in sick for this!"
"Finally! My life has meaning again!"
The chat moved so fast it was a blur of text. The screen faded in to reveal a desktop wallpaper featuring a ferocious Garchomp mid-Roar.
Then, the camera toggled on.
A woman sat in a high-end gaming chair, bathed in soft, natural light. She was undeniably striking. Her long, platinum-blonde hair cascaded down her back like liquid silk, and her charcoal-gray eyes held a depth of wisdom and power that commanded respect even through a screen. She wore a casual black top that somehow still looked elegant.
This was Cynthia. The Champion of the Sinnoh League. An archaeologist, a legend, and currently, a streamer.
She smiled, a warm, genuine expression that melted hearts across the region.
"Good morning, everyone," Cynthia said, her voice smooth and melodic. "The League has been quiet lately, so I finally have a free morning to spend with you all. Did you miss me?"
The chat exploded.
"I missed you more than I miss my ex!"
"Please step on me with your Garchomp!"
"I rode my bike three hours to the nearest internet cafe just for this!"
Cynthia chuckled softly, reading a few selected comments. "You're all very spirited today. Alright, since I'm here, what should we play?"
Suggestions flooded in.
"Cynthia! Play Battle Road! Teach us some strategies!"
"No, play Angry Stone! I want to see you rage!"
"Please just talk to us!"
Most of the comments leaned toward Battle Road. Cynthia nodded. "Alright, Battle Road it is."
Battle Road was a combat simulator released by Dream Factory six months ago. It was glitchy, unbalanced, and rarely updated, but it was the only game on the market that allowed for semi-realistic Pokémon battles. It was the "national game" by default.
Cynthia clicked the icon.
A loading wheel spun. And spun.
[Error: Unable to Connect to Server.]
The chat groaned in unison.
"Classic Dream Factory."
"They make millions and can't afford a hamster to run the servers."
"RIP stream."
Cynthia frowned slightly, closing the window. "Well, that's unfortunate. Any other suggestions?"
Suddenly, a bright red "Super Chat" donation popped up, catching her eye. It was from a longtime viewer named [FishermanLover].
[FishermanLover]: "Lady Cynthia! The Alliance Game Portal is having a 'New Game Festival.' Maybe check there?"
"Oh?" Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "That's a good idea. Let's see what independent developers are up to."
She navigated to the portal. The front page was a graveyard of creativity. Clone after clone of Angry Stone. Rolling Voltorb. Rolling Magnemite. Rolling Miltank.
Cynthia sighed, her finger hovering over the mouse to close the tab.
Then, she saw it.
It was just a thumbnail, but it stopped her cold.
Amidst a swirl of pixelated green clouds and ancient runes, a massive, serpentine dragon roared towards the heavens. The art style was retro, but the sheer aura of the creature was undeniable. It radiated power and majesty.
Cynthia leaned closer to her monitor, her grey eyes widening.
That silhouette...
As a Champion and a mythologist, she recognized it instantly.
Rayquaza.
The Sky High Pokémon. The ruler of the ozone layer.
Information about Rayquaza was incredibly scarce. Most ancient texts had been lost to time or fire. The general public thought it was a fairy tale.
But here it was, depicted with terrifying accuracy on the cover of a random indie game.
Coincidence? She wondered. No. The markings, the jaw structure... it's perfect.
She looked at the developer's name.
"Vance."
Just a single name. No studio. No company.
She pulled out her phone and did a quick search. Nothing. A ghost.
This is interesting, she thought, a thrill of discovery running through her. Who is this Vance? How do they know what Rayquaza looks like?
She clicked on the game title: [Pokémon Emerald (Beta)].
The description was stark.
"Encounter and train different Pokémon. Embark on a wonderful adventure."
Below that, however, were two lines of red text that made her pause.
WARNING: Non-professional Trainers are prohibited from playing! The developer is not responsible for broken devices, high blood pressure, or emotional trauma.
REWARD: The first player to complete the beta will receive the Developer's personal contact ID and a prize of 100,000 Pokédollars.
Cynthia's eyes narrowed.
Contact ID.
The money was irrelevant to her. But if this "Vance" knew about Rayquaza, he might know more about the ancient myths she had spent her life studying. She needed to talk to him.
"Well," Cynthia said to the stream, her voice taking on a competitive edge. "This looks... promising."
She clicked the purchase button.
[Price: 288 Pokédollars]
She blinked.
Two hundred and eighty-eight?
Most indie games were free or cost a few dollars. Even big studio games capped out at around 100. This pixel art game was charging nearly triple the market standard?
"Bold," Cynthia murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. "Very bold."