Marco woke up feeling... different.
It wasn't exactly something physical, but more as if her brain had been reorganized overnight and now everything was filed in the right places. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, and immediately noticed the change.
He knew things. Many things.
She glanced at the knot securing the corner of her sheet and her mind immediately identified: a slipknot, moderately effective, better to use a figure-eight knot for greater security . Her eyes scanned the room and without thinking she began assessing entry points, escape routes, hiding places.
"What a fucking crazy thing to do," he muttered aloud, then stopped.
He had spoken in Spanish, but in his mind he could also formulate the same sentence in Sindarin ( Elven ), Khuzdul (Dwarven), Westron (Common Tongue), and even in Black Speech if he wanted (although that left a bad taste in his mouth just thinking about it).
" Good morning ," Alakazam greeted telepathically from his meditation corner. " Your neurological integration was successfully completed. I can sense the new pathways in your mind. "
"Good morning to you too." Marco stretched, feeling his muscles respond differently. He wasn't exactly stronger, but he was more... aware. He instinctively knew how to move to maximize efficiency, how to fall to minimize damage, where to strike to neutralize a threat.
Arcanine yawned enormously from the foot of the bed, showing teeth the size of kitchen knives, and then came over to rub his massive head against Marco's shoulder.
"Ready for adventure?" asked the Pokémon , its voice in Marco's mind sounding surprisingly youthful and enthusiastic for such an imposing creature.
Arcanine 's ears . "Although first I need a bath and a change of clothes. I can't explore Middle-earth in sweatpants."
[SUGGESTION: VISIT THE PERSONAL WARDROBE]
[UNLOCKED WITH YOUR MERCHANT LEVEL]
A door Marco hadn't noticed before was softly illuminated on the opposite wall. Curious, he got up and opened it, revealing a walk -in closet that was larger than his entire bedroom in Iztapalapa.
And it was empty.
Well, almost empty. There was a full-length mirror, some empty shelves, and a holographic panel floating in the center that read:
[PERSONAL WARDROBE - BASIC LEVEL]
[CAPACITY: 50 SETS]
[FUNCTION: AUTOMATICALLY STORES AND REPAIRS CLOTHES]
[TIP: YOU CAN BUY CLOTHES FROM THE CATALOG OR STORE CLOTHES PURCHASED EXTERNALLY]
Marco looked at his sweaty, wrinkled sweatpants.
"I definitely need new clothes. System, show me some clothing options appropriate for Middle-earth. Something not too flashy but comfortable and functional."
[SHOWING CLOTHING CATALOG...]
[FILTERED BY: MIDDLE-EARTH, PERIOD: SECOND ERA, STYLE: TRAVELER/MERCHANT]
Dozens of options appeared. There were elegant elven robes , dwarven leather armor, hobbit clothes (which were definitely too small), outfits from Gondor and Rohan , and several "generic traveler" options that seemed perfect for someone who wanted to blend in.
Marco selected several outfits:
[TRAVELER OUTFIT - RANGER STYLE]
Forest green hooded tunicReinforced leather trousersDurable high bootsBelt with multiple pocketsCape with clasp PRICE: 800 CM / WITH DISCOUNT: 160 CM
[CASUAL OUTFIT - BREE STYLE]
White linen shirtBrown vestWork trousersSimple boots PRICE: 400 CM / WITH DISCOUNT: 80 CM
[FORMAL OUTFIT - SMALLER STYLE]
Blue tunic with silver embroideryceremonial cloakPolished leather boots PRICE: 1,500 CM / DISCOUNTED PRICE: 300 CM
"Give me all three," Marco decided. "You never know when you'll need to look presentable. After all, it's only 540 credits."
[PURCHASE PROCESSED]
[REMAINING CREDITS: 1,063,460 CM]
The clothes materialized on the shelves, perfectly folded and organized. Marco grabbed the travel outfit and headed to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, he emerged completely transformed. The outfit fit him like it had been tailor-made (which it probably was), and when he looked in the mirror, he had to admit he looked... good. Like a video game character ready for his first mission.
" Okay ," he said to himself, adjusting his belt. "I've got clothes, I've got gear, I've got a Pokémon team , I've got knowledge I didn't have yesterday. I think it's time to go out and see what this world's all about."
" Finally ," Alakazam remarked . " I was starting to think we'd be spending the whole day in here. "
"Hey, a man needs to be prepared." Marco slung his enormous backpack over his shoulder (which actually only weighed five kilos despite containing a year's worth of food and camping gear ) . "Besides, better prepared than dead, right?"
" Practical wisdom ," conceded the psychic pokémon .
Marco returned to the store's main room. The endless shelves stretched in every direction, and for a moment he considered whether he should buy something else, take advantage of being there...
"No," she told herself firmly. "If I buy more things now, I'll never go out. Besides, I can come back whenever I want."
[CORRECT]
[TO RETURN TO THE SHOP FROM MIDDLE-EARTH, SIMPLY THINK "OPEN SHOP"]
[A PORTAL WILL OPEN FOR YOUR EXCLUSIVE USE]
— Just like that? I just have to think about it?
[AFFIRMATIVE]
[NOTE: WHILE YOU ARE IN THE STORE, YOU CANNOT BE DETECTED OR TRACKED BY EXTERNAL MAGIC]
[IT IS A COMPLETELY NEUTRAL AND SAFE SPACE]
That was reassuring. Marco took a deep breath.
" Okay , team." He looked at his three Pokémon . "Time to explore Middle-earth. Arcanine , Lapras , return to your Poké Balls for now. Alakazam , you're coming with me. I need your telepathy in case we run into anyone."
" Understood ," Alakazam replied as Arcanine and Lapras returned to their respective Poké Balls in flashes of red light.
Marco approached the spot where he had originally appeared in the store, where the portal back to Middle-earth glowed softly.
—System, are you going to drop me in the same place in the forest where I was before?
[AFFIRMATIVE]
[LOCATION: ERIADOR FOREST, APPROXIMATELY 200 KM WEST OF IMLADRIS (RIVENDEL)]
[AREA HAZARD LEVEL: MODERATE]
Marco nodded. Moderate sounded manageable. Probably.
—Well, here we go.
He took a step towards the portal.
The world twisted, stretched, and suddenly Marco was back in the forest where it had all begun. The fresh air of Middle-earth filled his lungs, the scent of pine and damp earth so pure it almost made him dizzy after the sterile atmosphere of the tent.
But there was something different. Something that his newfound survival skills picked up on immediately.
There were footprints in the mud near where he was standing. Many footprints. And they weren't human.
" Orcs ," Alakazam identified , his mental voice tense. " They passed through here about an hour ago. A scouting party, I'd estimate six or seven individuals. "
Marco felt his heart racing, but his new combat training helped him stay calm.
Can they track us? Do they know we're here?
" The footprints go in the opposite direction. They didn't detect you. " Alakazam floated higher, his eyes glowing with psychic power. " But there's more activity in this area than usual. Something has stirred them. "
"Great. I arrive in a new world and there are already problems." Marco looked around, using his newfound navigational skills. "Which way is Rivendell ?"
Alakazam pointed one of his spoons to the east.
" Approximately 200 kilometers in that direction. On foot, given the terrain conditions, it would take between 8 and 10 days of steady travel. "
—And in Arcanine ?
" Three days, maybe four if we avoid dangerous routes. "
Marco considered his options. Rivendell was probably the safest place in the region, an elven haven where he could gather intelligence and establish himself. But it was also days away, and traveling in a straight line through a forest teeming with orcs sounded like a recipe for disaster.
"I need a better plan." He sat down on a rock (after verifying that there was nothing dangerous about it, thanks, new brain ) . "System, is there a settlement closer? Somewhere I can gather information without taking so many risks?"
[SCANNING AREA...]
[NEAREST SETTLEMENT: THARBAD VILLAGE]
[DISTANCE: 45 KM SOUTH]
[POPULATION: ~300 HUMANS, SOME OCCASIONAL DWARVES]
[DANGER LEVEL: LOW (ALTHOUGH THE ROUTE HAS A MODERATE RISK)]
— Tharbad . —Marco tried the name—. I've never heard it in the movies.
[THARBAD IS AN IMPORTANT PORT CITY IN THE SECOND ERA]
[IN THE THIRD ERA (WHEN THE MOVIES TAKE PLACE) IT WILL BE IN RUINS]
Ah, right. It was in the past. Long before Frodo and the One Ring. The idea was both exciting and terrifying.
" I recommend proceeding with caution ," Alakazam advised . " Your equipment is impressive by the standards of this world, but you are still vulnerable if ambushed in large numbers. "
"Absolutely." Marco stood up. " Okay , new plan: we travel to Tharbad , but we stay alert. If we see any trouble, we hide or return to the tent. Sounds reasonable?"
" Very reasonable. I will proceed with continuous psychic scanning of the area. "
Marco took out Arcanine 's Poké Ball .
— Arcanine , come out. I need you for transportation and muscle.
The fire-type Pokémon appeared in a flash of light, stretching and sniffing the air with interest.
"It smells different in here!" Arcanine observed . "Like... old! Not bad old, ancient old. Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense." Marco scratched his head. "This world has thousands of years of magic steeped in it. You can probably feel that. Ready to run?"
"Always!"
Marco climbed onto Arcanine 's back with surprising ease (thanks again, new skills). The Pokémon was incredibly comfortable to ride, its fur soft yet its frame sturdy enough to provide good support.
—Southbound, moderate speed. And Arcanine , if you smell or hear anything dangerous, stop immediately. Understood?
"Understood, boss!"
—And don't call me boss, it makes me feel old.
"Understood, Marco-who-is-not-old!"
Alakazam floated beside her, her spoons glowing softly as she extended her psychic senses.
" Ready when you are ."
Marco took one last deep breath of the pure air of Middle-earth, adjusted his backpack, and nodded.
-Let's go.
Arcanine darted through the trees with a grace that belied its massive size. It wasn't full speed (that would come later if needed), but a steady trot that covered kilometers without being exhausting.
The first thirty minutes passed in relative tranquility. The forest was beautiful in a way that no park or nature reserve in his world could match. The trees were ancient, their trunks so thick that three people holding hands couldn't encircle them. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden rays that seemed almost solid. Occasionally, Marco saw animals: deer that watched them curiously before leaping into the undergrowth, birds with impossibly colorful plumage, once even something that might have been a fox but was the size of a large dog.
" Everything is so... alive ," Alakazam remarked . " The energy in this world is different. Purer, less polluted. "
"It's because we haven't invented industrialization yet," Marco replied, brushing aside a low-hanging branch. "Give it a few thousand years and it'll probably look like my world."
" A depressing prospect ."
—Sadly realistic.
They were about twenty kilometers from their starting point when Alakazam stopped abruptly in mid-air.
" High ."
Arcanine froze immediately, its ears pointing forward.
" What's wrong?" Marco whispered, his hand instinctively moving to his belt where he kept his emergency shield.
" I detect intelligence ahead. Multiple minds. Humanoids, but... different. Not orcs. Something more organized. " Alakazam floated higher, his eyes glowing brightly. " Ambush. They've set a trap in the path. "
Marco felt a chill run down his spine.
—For us?
" Not specifically. For anyone who passes by. They're... bandits, I think that would be the appropriate term. "
"Bandits. Okay ." Marco considered his options. "Can we surround them?"
" Easily. They're concentrated on the path of play ahead. If we deviate thirty degrees to the left and travel two kilometers, we'll avoid them completely. "
It sounded simple. Too simple. But Marco wasn't there to look for trouble, at least not on his first day.
—Let's do it. Thirty-degree turn to the left.
Arcanine adjusted its course without asking questions, moving now more cautiously, its steps almost silent despite its size.
They were halfway through the rodeo when Marco heard the scream.
He was sharp, terrified, and definitely feminine.
" No! " Alakazam 's voice echoed urgently in his mind. " Marco, no... "
But it was too late. Marco's instincts (both new and old) had taken over. His grandmother hadn't raised him to ignore someone in danger.
— Arcanine , towards the scream. Now!
"Understood!"
The fire-type Pokémon exploded at full speed, trees blurring past as they headed towards the sound of the scream.
" This is extremely reckless ," protested Alakazam , though he followed Marco anyway.
"Probably," Marco admitted. "But I can't ignore that."
They exploded in a clearing, and the scene they found made Marco's blood boil.
There was an overturned cart in the center, its wheels broken, merchandise scattered all around. Three bodies lay motionless on the ground, two men and an older woman, all with arrows protruding from them. And standing beside the cart, surrounded by six men armed with swords and daggers, was a young woman.
She couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen. Her dress was torn, there was blood on her face (it wasn't clear whether it was hers or from the bodies), and she was holding a kitchen knife with trembling hands, clearly having no idea how to use it.
The bandits were laughing. One of them, a big guy with an unkempt beard and ill-fitting leather armor, was saying something to him in Westron that Marco's translator processed instantly:
"—You can make this easy or hard, girl. Either way, you're coming with us. But if you choose easy, maybe we'll let you live when we're done—"
Something inside Marco broke.
It wasn't a rational thought. It wasn't strategic or intelligent. It was pure, fiery, Mexican-level outrage.
"Arcanine!" he roared. "Flamethrowers on the ground between them!"
The Pokémon didn't hesitate. It opened its mouth and a torrent of fire shot out, striking the ground right between the bandits and the girl. The explosion of heat and flames made them jump back, screaming in surprise and fear.
Marco dismounted from Arcanine in a fluid movement he didn't know he could do, landing in a fighting stance that his new training had etched into his muscle memory.
" Stay away from her!" he shouted in Westron , his voice booming with an authority he hadn't known he possessed. "Or the next flamethrower won't hit the ground!"
Six pairs of surprised eyes turned toward him. Then, slowly, the surprise turned into something worse.
Hunger.
The bandit leader recovered first, a slow, unpleasant smile spreading across his face.
"Well, well," he said, turning his sword toward Marco. "Looks like we have a hero. Tell me, hero, how much do you think that hairy thing of yours and those fancy clothes are worth? Because I'm seeing a pretty penny here."
Marco felt the Aegis activating, a faint buzzing beneath his skin reminding him that he was protected. But he also felt his newfound combat knowledge assessing the situation:
Six opponents. Basic combat training evident in their stance. Armed but with mediocre equipment. Confident due to numerical superiority. They do not expect serious resistance.
" Marco ," Alakazam 's voice echoed in his mind, calm but firm. " Give me the word and I'll neutralize them all without permanent damage. Psychic confusion. They'll be unconscious in seconds. "
Marco hesitated. Part of him wanted to accept, to let Alakazam handle this. But another part, the part that had grown up in Iztapalapa, the part that knew that sometimes you have to stand firm...
"No," he murmured. "Let me try something first."
He straightened up, adopting a relaxed but alert posture, and smiled at the bandits with all the false confidence he could muster.
"Look, guys," he said, mixing his Spanish with Westron's in a way that probably sounded odd but got the point across. "You guys seem like reasonable fellows. Well, not really, but let's pretend. You have two choices: you leave now, alive and with all your limbs intact, or…"
He left the threat hanging, and to emphasize the point, Arcanine stepped forward and growled. It wasn't an ordinary growl. It was the growl of a predator that weighed 300 kilos and could melt steel with its breath.
The flames that danced in Arcanine 's mouth were reflected in the bandits' ever-widening eyes.
—...or they discover why it's a bad idea to mess with a merchant who has multiversal connections .
The silence that followed was beautiful.
Then, to absolutely no one's surprise, the bandit leader decided to be stupid.
" It's just a trick! A trained animal!" He raised his sword. "Six against one, boys! Attack!"
Marco sighed.
— Alakazam , plan B.
" With pleasure. "
Pokémon 's eyes flashed with a blinding blue light, and the six bandits froze mid-stride. Their eyes glazed over, their weapons fell from their suddenly limp hands, and one by one, they collapsed to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.
The entire altercation, from the moment Marco entered the clearing until the last bandit fell unconscious, had taken less than two minutes.
Marco stood there, his heart pounding like a drum, adrenaline coursing through his veins, trying to process that he had just intervened in a bandit raid in fucking Middle-earth and had won .
" They're alive ," Alakazam reported . " They'll sleep for about eight hours. Enough time for us to leave before they can follow us. "
"Good. That's... good." Marco took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
Then he remembered the girl.
He turned to find her still standing by the cart, now staring at him with enormous eyes filled with fear, astonishment, and confusion. The knife had fallen from her hands, and she was trembling from head to toe.
Marco raised his hands in a universal gesture of peace, his newfound knowledge of languages allowing him to speak fluent Westron :
—Hey, hey. Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe now. Those guys aren't going to bother you again.
The girl looked at him, then at Arcanine (who was still emanating an intimidating heat), then at Alakazam (who was floating like something out of a mystical nightmare), and finally back at Marco.
And then, to his complete surprise, she burst into tears.
Not a delicate or quiet cry. It was the heart-wrenching cry of someone who had held back all the terror and anguish, and now could finally release it because she was safe .
Marco froze for a second, unsure what to do. His survival and combat training hadn't included a section on "how to comfort traumatized assault victims."
Then his Mexican instincts took over.
He approached slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal, and spoke in the softest voice he could muster:
" Hey , it's okay. It's over now. You're alive. That's what matters." He stopped about a meter away. "What's your name?"
The girl tried to answer between sobs, her voice breaking:
—L-Lira. My name is Lira.
"Lira. Nice name." Marco gave her a small smile. "I'm Marco. Marco Antonio Durán, but just Marco is fine. That's Arcanine "—he pointed to the fire-type Pokémon now sitting down, trying to look less intimidating—"and that's Alakazam "—the psychic bowed its head in greeting.
Lira looked at them with still teary eyes, her breathing slowly returning to normal.
—W -what are they? I've never seen creatures like them.
"It's a long story." Marco looked at the bodies next to the overturned car. "Lira, those people... were they your family?"
The girl's face fell again, but she managed to nod.
—My father, my uncle, and my aunt. We were on our way to Tharbad to sell our goods when... when... —he couldn't finish.
Marco felt a pressure in his chest. Young women orphaned by senseless violence. Some problems were universal, apparently.
"I'm so sorry," he said sincerely. "Nobody deserves this."
An awkward silence fell. Then Marco realized the obvious: he couldn't just leave. This girl had just lost her family, she was stranded in the middle of the woods with unconscious bandits who would eventually wake up, and she had no way to get anywhere safe.
"Shit," he muttered in Spanish, before switching back to Westron . "Okay , Lira. Listen. I know you've just been through something awful, and you probably don't trust strangers, especially after…" He gestured toward the bandits. "But I can't in good conscience leave you here alone. Do you have family in Tharbad ? Anyone who can help you?"
Lira wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, leaving streaks of dirt on her cheeks.
—My grandmother lives there. We were going to visit her and...
Her voice broke again, but this time she managed to control herself.
" Okay ." Marco nodded, making a decision. "So here's the plan: I'm taking you to Tharbad to your grandmother's. It's non-negotiable. You can ride Arcanine ; he's super smooth and—"
" Hey ! I'm not soft, I'm majestic," Arcanine protested .
"You're very gentle and very majestic," Marco corrected. "The point is, he'll get you there safely. We should be in Tharbad in a few hours if we hurry."
Lira looked at him with something akin to astonishment.
—Would you do that for me? For a stranger?
Marco shrugged, uncomfortable with the gratitude.
—My grandmother taught me never to leave someone in trouble if you can help. Besides, I'm also heading to Tharbad , so it's not that far out of my way.
It was a white lie. Their original plan had been to explore at a leisurely pace, perhaps camp for a night, get to know the area. But those plans could change.
" You're a terrible liar, but I admire the sentiment ," Alakazam commented telepathically.
" Shut up and help me look heroic ," Marco replied in his mind.
Lira looked towards the bodies of her family, her expression torn between pain and gratitude.
—I can't... I can't leave them like this.
"You won't." Marco approached the car, assessing the situation. " Alakazam , can you use your telekinesis to... you know... fix this respectfully?"
" Of course. "
Alakazam 's eyes gleamed, and the three bodies rose gently from the ground. With graceful movements, the psychic-type Pokémon lined them up beside the cart, crossed its hands over their chests, and even straightened their clothes.
Lira stifled a sob, but there was gratitude in her expression.
" Do you have something you want to say?" Marco asked gently.
The girl nodded, knelt beside the bodies, and murmured what sounded like a prayer. Marco didn't understand all the words (it seemed to be some ancient religious dialect), but the sentiment was clear.
When he finished, he stood up, his eyes red but his posture firmer.
—Thank you. For... for everything.
"You're welcome." Marco looked around. "Is there anything from the truck you need to take? Merchandise, personal belongings..."
Lira shook her head.
"Just..." She approached the overturned car and pulled out a small leather bag. "This. My mother's jewelry. It's all that's left of her."
"So that's what we're carrying." Marco helped Lira onto Arcanine 's back , making sure she was sitting securely in front of him. " Arcanine , moderate but steady speed. We have a grandmother waiting in Tharbad . "
"Understood! Comfort mode activated!"
And so, with a new passenger, a heavy heart, and the growing feeling that his life in Middle-earth was going to be much more complicated than he had anticipated, Marco Antonio Durán began his journey to Tharbad .
It wasn't exactly how she had imagined her first day in a fantasy world.
But, he reflected as Arcanine trotted gently with Lira clinging to its fur, at least he was doing something good.
His grandmother would be proud.
To be continued...