Death, as it turned out, was remarkably anticlimactic.
One moment, twenty-three-year-old Marcus Chen had been sitting in his gaming chair, in the middle of an extremely passionate Reddit rant about why Generation 9 was an absolute travesty of game design—seriously, the performance issues alone were criminal, and don't even get him started on the story or the fact that Game Freak apparently forgot how to optimize a game in the year of our Lord 2022—and the next moment, he was... somewhere else entirely.
The "somewhere else" in question appeared to be a forest clearing bathed in dappled golden sunlight, which was a significant upgrade from his dimly lit bedroom that smelled vaguely of energy drinks and regret, but also raised some rather concerning questions about his current state of existence.
Marcus blinked.
Then he blinked again.
The forest remained stubbornly present, refusing to dissolve into the familiar sight of his three monitors and the half-eaten bag of chips he'd been working through while typing his magnum opus of Gen 9 criticism.
"What the fu—"
No sound came out.
Marcus's hand flew to his throat in panic. He tried again. "Hello? Testing? One two three?"
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. His mouth moved, his vocal cords strained, but the only thing that emerged was... silence. Complete and utter silence, as if someone had hit the mute button on his entire existence.
Well, that was horrifying.
Before Marcus could properly spiral into existential terror about his apparent muteness, he became aware of two things simultaneously. The first was that he was no longer wearing his comfortable, well-worn pajamas that he'd been gaming in for approximately three days straight (don't judge him, it was a weekend and he was an adult who could make his own poor life choices). Instead, he was dressed in black pants that fit surprisingly well, a dark blue jacket adorned with what could only be described as absolutely sick flame patterns along the sleeves and hem, complete with a fluffy hood that felt like it was made of actual clouds, fingerless gloves that made him feel like an edgy anime protagonist, sleek sneakers that were somehow already broken in and comfortable, and a hat perched on his head that felt oddly familiar.
The second thing he noticed was that he was not alone.
Standing directly in front of him, looking up at him with expressions of pure, unadulterated adoration that no living creature had ever directed at Marcus in his entire life (including his own mother, who loved him but was certainly not above expressing disappointment in his life choices), were two Pokemon.
Not people in Pokemon costumes.
Not impressive animatronics.
Not a stress-induced hallucination brought on by too much screen time and not enough vegetables.
Actual, real, living, breathing Pokemon.
A Pikachu sat on its haunches to his left, its red cheeks sparking with electricity, its little black eyes practically shining with devotion as it gazed up at him like he was the second coming of Arceus himself. But this wasn't just any Pikachu—its fur had an unusual sheen to it, almost sparkling, and there was something about the way it held itself that screamed "I am special and I know it." And to his right, an Eevee with fur that looked impossibly soft and fluffy was doing the same, its bushy tail wagging with such enthusiasm that its entire back end was wiggling. This Eevee also looked different somehow—its fur pattern had subtle variations, and a small tuft of cream-colored fur sat atop its head like a tiny crown.
These were the partner Pokemon. The Let's Go partner Pokemon. Marcus would recognize them anywhere—he'd spent hundreds of hours with those games, dressing up his partners in ridiculous outfits and abusing their completely broken exclusive moves to steamroll through Kanto.
"Pika!" the Pikachu chirped happily, and Marcus nearly had a heart attack because holy shit that was the actual Pikachu cry, the real one, not a recording or a sound effect but an actual vocalization produced by an actual electric mouse creature that was actually sitting in front of him.
"Vee vee!" the Eevee added, equally thrilled, bouncing on its little paws before launching itself at his chest. Marcus caught it instinctively, and the moment he did, the Eevee started purring—actually PURRING—and nuzzling against him with such intensity that he nearly fell over.
The Pikachu, apparently deciding it wasn't about to be outdone in the affection department, scampered up his leg with surprising speed, scaled his torso like a tiny electric mountain climber, and settled on his shoulder. It immediately pressed its warm cheek against his, and Marcus felt a gentle tingle of electricity that was somehow comforting rather than painful.
Marcus tried to say "What is happening," but of course, nothing came out. He gestured wildly at himself, at them, at the forest around them, hoping to convey his complete and utter confusion through the medium of frantic arm movements.
The Pikachu tilted its head adorably, then patted his cheek with one tiny paw as if to say "there, there, everything is fine, your beloved Pokemon are here."
This was insane.
This was absolutely, certifiably, one-hundred-percent insane.
Marcus was either dead, dreaming, or had finally snapped from spending too much time arguing with people on the internet about fictional creatures. All three options seemed equally plausible at this point.
He needed to figure out what was going on. He needed information. He needed—
A weight settled on his back, and Marcus realized he was wearing a backpack. A blue backpack that he definitely hadn't been wearing before, because again, he had been in his bedroom in his pajamas approximately thirty seconds ago from his perspective.
With trembling hands (and a Pikachu on his shoulder that seemed very concerned about his trembling and was nuzzling his cheek in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture but was actually just making this whole situation more surreal), Marcus swung the backpack around and opened it.
Inside, he found several things.
The first was a Pokedex—a genuine, actual Pokedex, sleek and red and exactly like the ones from the games. His hands shook even harder as he pulled it out and flipped it open, half-expecting it to be a prop or a toy or something that would shatter this illusion.
Instead, the screen flickered to life, and a synthesized voice spoke: "Welcome back, Trainer. Profile loading..."
The screen displayed a loading bar, and Marcus held his breath.
TRAINER PROFILE:
Name: RED
Age: 16
Hometown: Pallet Town
Badges: [Icons displayed - all 8 Kanto badges, all 8 Johto badges, all 8 Hoenn badges, all 8 Sinnoh badges, all 8 Unova badges, all 8 Kalos badges, all 7 Alolan trials + 1 Champion symbol, all 8 Galar badges]
Status: Pokemon League Champion (Multiple Regions)
Title: POKEMON MASTER
Marcus dropped the Pokedex.
Red.
RED.
His name was RED?!
He wasn't Marcus Chen anymore. He was RED. THE Red. The legendary trainer from the original games. The silent protagonist who conquered Kanto, defeated Team Rocket, became Champion, climbed a frozen mountain to train in isolation, and was considered by many to be the strongest trainer in the entire franchise.
He scrambled to pick up the device, his mind racing. He needed to see more. He needed to understand the full extent of what had happened to him.
With shaking fingers, he navigated to the Pokemon storage system, and proceeded to have what could only be described as a complete and total mental breakdown, except he couldn't even scream about it because he COULDN'T TALK.
The PC box system loaded, and the number in the corner made Red's (he supposed he had to think of himself as Red now) vision go fuzzy.
Active Pokemon: 2 (Pikachu - Partner, Eevee - Partner)
Pokemon in Storage: 1,847
One thousand, eight hundred, and forty-seven Pokemon.
In storage.
Just waiting for him.
Red scrolled through the boxes with increasingly manic energy, and with each swipe of his finger, he became more and more certain that he had somehow been transported into this world with EVERY SINGLE POKEMON HE HAD EVER CAUGHT across every game he had ever played.
Box 1: Charizard, Blastoise, Venusaur, Pikachu (his original Kanto team starter, different from his Partner Pikachu), Alakazam, Gengar, Machamp, Golem, Dragonite, Gyarados...
Box 5: His entire Living Dex project from Pokemon Home, meticulously organized and complete up through Generation 8 (and only Generation 8, because he had REFUSED to buy Scarlet or Violet on principle, thank you very much).
Box 23: Shinies. So many shinies. The countless hours he'd spent shiny hunting, hatching eggs until his joy-cons drifted into oblivion, the—wait, was that his shiny Charizard from that random encounter in Let's Go? And his shiny Rayquaza from those HOURS of soft-resetting in Omega Ruby? And his shiny Mewtwo that had taken him three weeks of attempts?
Box 47: The legendaries started appearing, and Red had to sit down more firmly because his legs had given out entirely. Mewtwo. Mew (from that Pokemon Go event, transferred up). Lugia. Ho-Oh. Groudon. Kyogre. Rayquaza. Dialga. Palkia. Giratina. THE ENTIRE CREATION TRIO. Reshiram. Zekrom. Kyurem. Xerneas. Yveltal. ZYGARDE IN ALL THREE FORMS SOMEHOW. Solgaleo. Lunala. Necrozma. The Tapus. The Ultra Beasts—ALL of the Ultra Beasts. Zacian. Zamazenta. ETERNATUS. CALYREX WITH BOTH HORSES.
Red was hyperventilating.
He couldn't breathe.
He had ARCEUS.
He had ARCEUS in his PC storage.
He had the LITERAL GOD OF THE POKEMON UNIVERSE just chilling in a digital box somewhere, waiting for him to call it out.
And from what the Pokedex was showing him, every single one of these Pokemon had stats, moves, and abilities that translated perfectly from the games. His competitively trained team from Sword and Shield was here. His meme team of six Magikarps was here. His collection of Unown spelling out rude words was HERE.
But most importantly—his partner Pokemon from Let's Go were here. And that meant...
Red quickly pulled up the move lists for his Pikachu and Eevee.
PARTNER PIKACHU:
Zippy Zap (Electric) - Always crits. ALWAYS.Splishy Splash (Water) - May cause paralysis. A WATER move. On a PIKACHU.Floaty Fall (Flying) - May cause flinching. FLYING. PIKACHU.Pika Papow (Normal) - Power scales with friendship. Maxed friendship = DEVASTATING.ThunderQuick AttackIron TailVolt Tackle
PARTNER EEVEE:
Bouncy Bubble (Water) - Heals half damage dealt.Buzzy Buzz (Electric) - Always paralyzes.Sizzly Slide (Fire) - Always burns.Glitzy Glow (Psychic) - Sets up Light Screen.Baddy Bad (Dark) - Sets up Reflect.Freezy Frost (Ice) - Eliminates all stat changes.Sparkly Swirl (Fairy) - Heals all status conditions.Sappy Seed (Grass) - Leech Seed effect.Veevee Volley (Normal) - Power scales with friendship.
Red stared at the move lists.
His Pikachu could use WATER and FLYING moves. His Eevee could use moves of EIGHT DIFFERENT TYPES without evolving, each with broken secondary effects.
These weren't just partner Pokemon.
These were WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION disguised as adorable fluffballs.
"Pika pika?" the Pikachu on his shoulder asked, clearly concerned about his trainer's apparent mental collapse. It patted his cheek again, sparks of electricity dancing between its cheeks in a display that was probably meant to be comforting.
"Vee?" the Eevee in his arms added, looking up at him with those big, devoted eyes. Its tail was wagging so hard its entire body was vibrating.
Red couldn't respond verbally, but he managed to pat both of them in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Inside, he was screaming. Outside, he was just... sitting there, staring at his Pokedex with the haunted expression of a man who had just realized he was simultaneously the luckiest person alive and also possibly in way over his head.
He caught his reflection in the Pokedex's screen and felt his soul leave his body for the second time.
Staring back at him was not his own face.
Well, okay, it was kind of his face. The same general bone structure, maybe. But the features had been... adjusted. Sharpened. Made more conventionally attractive in that specific anime protagonist way. His hair, which had been a boring dark brown that he never styled properly, was now jet black and artfully messy beneath his hat in a way that looked effortlessly cool rather than like he'd just rolled out of bed. His eyes, formerly a muddy hazel, were now a striking red color that matched his apparent new name.
He looked like Red.
He looked EXACTLY like Red, if Red had decided to ditch his usual outfit for something with flame patterns and a fluffy hood.
So to summarize his situation:
He was dead (probably)He had been reborn as Red, the legendary Pokemon trainerHe couldn't speak, just like the game version of RedHe had every Pokemon he'd ever caught across fifteen years of gamingHis partner Pokemon had completely broken movesetsHe was somewhere in a forest with no idea where or WHEN he was
Great. Just great.
Red stood up, much to the slight distress of the Eevee, who he continued to hold against his chest because honestly, he needed the comfort of a warm fuzzy creature right now and the Eevee seemed more than happy to provide it. The Pikachu adjusted its position on his shoulder with practiced ease, and Red took a moment to appreciate how natural that felt, how RIGHT it was to have Pokemon with him like this.
Then he started walking.
The forest around him was beautiful in a way that forests in the real world—his OLD real world—never quite managed. The colors were more vibrant, more saturated, like someone had turned up the contrast on reality itself. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden shafts, and he could hear Pokemon calls in the distance—bird Pokemon, probably, singing songs he almost recognized from years of playing with the volume on.
He walked for about fifteen minutes, his partner Pokemon content to just be near him, when he heard something that made him freeze.
Voices. Human voices. And they sounded... young.
"Ash, slow down! You're going to trip!"
"I'm fine, Misty! I just want to find more Pokemon to catch!"
"Pika pi!"
"At least watch where you're going! We just left Pewter City, we don't need you getting injured already!"
"Misty's right, Ash. We should pace ourselves. We have a long way to go before Cerulean City."
Red's brain short-circuited.
Ash. Misty. Just left Pewter City. Long way to Cerulean City.
He knew EXACTLY when he was.
This was the very beginning of the original anime series. Episode... what, five? Six? Somewhere around there. Ash had just gotten his Boulder Badge from Brock, Brock had just joined the group, and they were heading to Cerulean City for Ash's second gym battle.
This was the BEGINNING. The very start of Ash Ketchum's journey to become a Pokemon Master.
And Red—former Marcus Chen, dead Reddit user, owner of nearly two thousand Pokemon including literal gods—was about to walk right into them.
He considered hiding. He really did. The smart thing to do would be to avoid contact, figure out his situation, and develop a plan before interacting with the main characters of this universe.
But Red had never been particularly good at doing the smart thing. That was why he'd spent three hours writing a Reddit post about Gen 9 instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour.
Also, his Pikachu had already spotted the group emerging from the trees ahead and was waving excitedly. "Pika pika!"
So much for stealth.
The group that emerged into the clearing consisted of exactly who Red expected: a young boy with messy black hair and a red cap, a Pikachu on his shoulder, an orange-haired girl with a side ponytail looking mildly irritated, and a tall teenager with spiky brown hair and perpetually squinted eyes.
Ash, Misty, and Brock. In the flesh. Actual anime characters standing maybe twenty feet away from him.
Red's brain was still processing this when Ash's Pikachu noticed them.
"Pika?" Ash's Pikachu tilted its head, looking at Red's Partner Pikachu with curiosity. Then its eyes widened.
Red's Partner Pikachu waved.
Ash's Pikachu waved back hesitantly, clearly confused by this other Pikachu that seemed... different somehow.
"Hey, cool!" Ash exclaimed, bounding forward with the boundless energy of a ten-year-old who had just discovered something interesting. "Another trainer! And you have a Pikachu too! And an Eevee! They're so—"
He stopped.
Ash stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide as dinner plates.
Behind him, Misty and Brock were having similar reactions.
"Wait," Ash said slowly, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Wait wait wait. You... you look like..."
"Is that..." Brock's usually squinted eyes had actually opened, revealing brown irises that were fixed on Red with an expression of absolute shock. "There's no way."
Misty had gone pale. "The jacket is different, but... the face... the Pikachu..."
Red stood very still, not sure what to do. His Partner Pikachu seemed unconcerned, happily sparking on his shoulder, while his Partner Eevee was too busy nuzzling against his chest to care about the three humans having a collective breakdown.
"RED!" Ash suddenly screamed, making Red flinch. "YOU'RE RED! THE RED! THE POKEMON CHAMPION! THE STRONGEST TRAINER IN KANTO! THE GUY WHO BEAT THE ELITE FOUR AND BECAME A LEGEND!"
The word "legend" echoed through the forest, startling a flock of Pidgey from nearby trees.
"There's no way," Misty repeated, but her voice was shaking. "Red is... he's supposed to be a myth. The silent champion who trained on Mt. Silver. People tell stories about him, but no one's actually SEEN him in years..."
"He's real," Brock breathed. "I've seen pictures. Old photos from when he first became Champion. He looks exactly the same, just... different clothes."
Red wanted to explain that he wasn't actually the legendary Red, that he was just some guy from another dimension who happened to be wearing this body like an ill-fitting suit, but OF COURSE HE COULDN'T BECAUSE HE COULDN'T TALK.
He settled for raising one hand in an awkward wave.
This apparently broke whatever spell had been holding Ash in place, because the boy launched himself forward like a Jolteon using Quick Attack and grabbed Red's free hand (the one not holding the Eevee) with both of his own.
"This is amazing!" Ash was practically vibrating with excitement, his own Pikachu barely managing to hold onto his shoulder. "I can't believe I'm meeting THE Red! You're my hero! Well, one of them! I'm going to be a Pokemon Master just like you! I just got my first badge from Brock—you know Brock, right? He's traveling with us now—and we're going to Cerulean City next! I'm going to collect all eight badges and challenge the Pokemon League and—"
"Ash, breathe!" Misty yanked him back by his collar. "You're going to suffocate the poor guy!"
"Sorry, sorry!" Ash didn't look sorry at all. His eyes were still shining with barely contained excitement. "I just... wow. Red. THE Red. Right here. In front of me. This is the best day of my life!"
Red was deeply uncomfortable with being called someone's hero. He was just a guy. A guy who played too many video games and argued with strangers on the internet. He wasn't a legendary trainer. He wasn't—
Except he WAS, now. Whether he liked it or not, he was in Red's body, with Red's identity, and apparently Red's reputation. And based on the way these three were looking at him, that reputation was SIGNIFICANT.
"I have so many questions," Brock said, stepping forward more cautiously than Ash had. "I study Pokemon, and the stories about you... the battles you won, the Pokemon you caught, the way you could command your team without speaking... I never thought I'd actually meet you."
Red winced internally at the "without speaking" part. At least that was consistent with his current predicament.
Misty was still staring at him with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Wait, if you're really Red... what are you doing out here? I thought you were supposed to be on Mt. Silver. That's what all the stories say."
Red couldn't exactly explain his situation, so he pulled out his Pokedex and navigated to the notes app. He'd need to get creative with communication.
He typed quickly and held up the screen:
"I came down from the mountain. Traveling again. Nice to meet you."
"He's typing!" Ash observed loudly, as if this wasn't obvious. "Because he doesn't talk! Just like the legends say!"
Red nodded, confirming this.
"That's so cool," Ash breathed. "Strong AND mysterious."
"Ash, it's probably not cool for him," Misty said with a huff. "Being unable to speak must be really difficult."
Red shrugged. It was difficult, but he'd been dealing with it for... well, about an hour now. He'd manage. Probably.
"So..." Ash was practically bouncing on his heels. "Do you want to travel with us? We're going to Cerulean City! I'm going to challenge the gym there! And then we're going to travel all over Kanto, and I'm going to catch lots of Pokemon, and become a Pokemon Master! It would be SO COOL if the actual Champion came with us!"
Brock looked like he wanted to object to this incredibly forward invitation, but also like he really, really wanted to say yes on Red's behalf.
Misty just facepalmed. "Ash, you can't just ask the Champion to travel with you. He probably has important Champion things to do!"
Red considered the situation.
He had no idea what he was doing. He was in a world he didn't fully understand, wearing a body that wasn't his, carrying an absurd number of Pokemon, and had no real goals or direction.
Traveling with the main characters of the anime was probably a terrible idea. He might interfere with the plot. He might change things in ways that had unforeseen consequences. He might accidentally reveal that he was from another dimension and didn't actually belong here.
On the other hand... Ash, Misty, and Brock were good people. They could help him navigate this world. They could teach him things about how Pokemon training actually worked in the anime versus the games. And honestly, being alone in a world where he couldn't speak sounded absolutely miserable.
Plus, this was literally a childhood fantasy come true. He was being invited to travel with Ash Ketchum at the beginning of his journey. How could he possibly say no?
Red typed on his Pokedex:
"I have no specific plans. I would like to travel with you, if that's okay."
Ash read the screen and literally jumped into the air. "YES! Did you hear that, Pikachu? Red is coming with us! The Champion is coming with us!"
"Pika pika!" Ash's Pikachu cheered, though it kept glancing at Red's Partner Pikachu with a mix of curiosity and what might have been mild jealousy.
Red's Partner Pikachu, for its part, hopped down from his shoulder and approached Ash's Pikachu with a friendly "Pika pi!" It seemed utterly unconcerned with social hierarchy or territorial displays, instead radiating the confidence of a Pokemon who knew it was completely broken and had nothing to prove.
Red's Partner Eevee, meanwhile, refused to leave his arms and just watched everything with a lazy sort of contentment.
"This is incredible," Brock said, still looking starstruck. "I'm going to be traveling with the Champion. I'm going to learn from the greatest trainer in Kanto. Maybe the greatest trainer EVER."
Red felt deeply uncomfortable with that description. He wasn't the greatest anything. He was just a guy who'd spent too much time on Pokemon games instead of developing actual life skills.
But he couldn't exactly argue about it.
"We should get moving," Misty said, apparently the only one with any practical sense. "We still have a long way to go before we reach Cerulean City, and the sun isn't going to stay up forever."
"Right, right!" Ash grabbed Red's wrist and started dragging him down the path. "Come on, Red! Let's go! This is going to be the best adventure ever!"
Red allowed himself to be dragged, his Partner Pikachu running alongside them while his Partner Eevee snoozed happily in his arms.
This was his life now.
He was traveling with the main characters of Pokemon.
He was a legendary champion who couldn't speak.
He had nearly two thousand Pokemon in his pocket, including literal gods.
What could possibly go wrong?
As it turned out, quite a lot could go wrong.
The first issue presented itself approximately two hours later.
The group had been making good time through the forest, with Ash chattering endlessly about his journey so far (he'd gotten his Boulder Badge! Brock's Onix was super strong! His Pikachu had done amazing!), Misty occasionally interjecting with corrections or complaints, and Brock quietly studying Red like he was the most fascinating Pokemon specimen he'd ever encountered.
Red had mostly just nodded along, using one-handed typing on his Pokedex when direct responses were absolutely necessary. He was starting to get used to the silence, though it was still deeply frustrating. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask about how this world worked versus the games, but every thought had to be filtered through the annoyingly slow process of typing.
His Partner Pikachu had returned to his shoulder, occasionally sparking with contentment, while his Partner Eevee had finally consented to walk on its own—though it stayed pressed against his leg at all times, clearly unwilling to be more than six inches away from him at any given moment.
Ash's Pikachu had attempted to make friends with Red's Partner Pikachu a few times, but the conversations (if you could call Pikachu squeaking at each other "conversations") had been brief. There was a clear difference in... something. Demeanor? Power level? Red wasn't sure. But Ash's Pikachu seemed to recognize that Red's Partner Pikachu was on another level entirely.
Everything was going fine until they walked around a bend in the path and encountered a group of trainers.
There were five of them, all looking to be in their mid-teens, gathered around a tree that contained what appeared to be a very angry Beedrill nest. One of them was pointing at the nest and saying something about "rare Pokemon," which immediately set off alarm bells in Red's head.
"Hey!" Ash called out, because Ash had no sense of self-preservation. "What are you guys doing?"
The trainers turned, and the one who had been pointing at the nest—a boy with slicked-back hair and an arrogant expression—scowled. "None of your business, kid. We're about to catch some Beedrill. Buzz off."
"Catching Beedrill by disturbing their nest is dangerous," Brock said, his expression serious. "You could get hurt."
"Please," the arrogant trainer scoffed. "We know what we're—"
He stopped.
His eyes had moved past Ash and Brock, landing on Red.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then one of the other trainers—a girl with twin pigtails—made a strangled sound. "Is that... oh my god, is that RED?"
"What? No way." The arrogant trainer looked closer, then went pale. "Holy... it IS. That's Red. That's the CHAMPION."
"THE CHAMPION?!"
"THE GUY WHO BEAT THE ELITE FOUR WHEN HE WAS LIKE ELEVEN?!"
"OH MY GOD IT'S ACTUALLY HIM!"
Red found himself swarmed within seconds. The trainers abandoned their ill-advised Beedrill hunting scheme entirely, surrounding him with expressions of awe and excitement that made him deeply uncomfortable.
"Can I have your autograph?!"
"Battle me! Please!"
"What's your secret? How did you get so strong?"
"Is it true you have a Pikachu? Oh, you DO! It's right there! It's so cute! Wait, is that a special Pikachu? It looks different somehow!"
"You have an Eevee too?! Oh my god, it's so fluffy!"
Red's Partner Eevee did NOT appreciate being crowded. It hissed—actually hissed—at the trainers getting too close, its fur puffing up in a way that made it look like an angry cotton ball.
Red's Partner Pikachu, meanwhile, was sparking warningly. "Pika..." The sound was distinctly threatening.
"Back off!" Misty pushed her way through the crowd, physically shoving trainers aside. "Give him space! He's a person, not a museum exhibit!"
"But he's RED!" one of the trainers protested. "He's a LEGEND!"
"He's also clearly uncomfortable! Look at him!"
Red was, in fact, deeply uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being the center of attention. In his old life, he'd been a pretty average guy—not particularly popular, not particularly unpopular, just... existing. Being treated like a celebrity was so far outside his experience that he had no idea how to react.
The arrogant trainer from before pushed to the front of the group, his earlier attitude completely gone. "Please, Champion Red! I challenge you to a battle! It would be an honor to face you!"
Red stared at him.
On one hand, he really didn't want to battle. He didn't know how his Pokemon would perform in actual anime-style battles. The mechanics might be different from the games. What if his Partner Pokemon's moves didn't work the way they were supposed to? What if—
On the other hand, his Partner Pikachu was looking up at him with what could only be described as eager anticipation. It WANTED to battle. It was practically vibrating with the desire to show off.
And honestly? Red was kind of curious too.
He nodded.
The reaction was immediate and extreme. All five trainers started freaking out, and before Red knew what was happening, a space had been cleared and he was standing on one side of an impromptu battlefield while the arrogant trainer—whose name was apparently Trent—stood on the other.
"I can't believe I'm battling Red," Trent was muttering to himself. "I'm battling the Champion. Mom is going to lose her mind when I tell her."
Ash, Misty, and Brock had taken positions on the sideline, with Ash looking like he was about to explode from excitement.
"One Pokemon each?" Trent asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Red nodded.
"I'll use my strongest!" Trent released his Pokemon, and a Raticate appeared on the field. It was a decent-looking Raticate, clearly well-trained, but Red's games-trained eye immediately assessed its level as somewhere in the mid-20s at best.
His Partner Pikachu was level 100.
This was going to be a massacre.
Red's Partner Pikachu hopped off his shoulder and took a battle stance, cheeks sparking with electricity. The other trainers oohed and aahed at the sight of it, clearly impressed by its unusual appearance.
"A Pikachu versus my Raticate?" Trent seemed to gain some confidence. "I know you're the Champion, but I have a type advantage! I mean, not really, since we're both normal and electric, but still! Raticate, use Hyper Fang!"
The Raticate lunged forward, teeth gleaming.
Red's Partner Pikachu looked at him expectantly.
Right. He needed to give a command. But he couldn't speak.
Red made a quick motion with his hand—a sort of sideways slash.
His Partner Pikachu's eyes lit up with understanding, and it executed a move that made everyone watching gasp.
"PIKAAAAAA—ZIPPY ZAP!"
The Pikachu became a blur of electricity, moving so fast it seemed to teleport. One moment it was on its side of the field, the next it was behind the Raticate, electricity crackling around it as it delivered a devastating strike.
The Raticate hadn't even finished its Hyper Fang approach when the attack connected.
CRITICAL HIT.
Because Zippy Zap ALWAYS crit. That was the entire point of the move.
The Raticate went flying, slammed into a tree, and slumped to the ground, unconscious. Swirls replaced its eyes.
The battle had lasted approximately three seconds.
For a long moment, there was absolute silence.
Then chaos erupted.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!"
"IT ONE-SHOT THE RATICATE!"
"I'VE NEVER SEEN A PIKACHU MOVE THAT FAST!"
"WHAT MOVE WAS THAT?! I'VE NEVER HEARD OF ZIPPY ZAP!"
Trent looked like he was going to cry. His friends were comforting him while simultaneously freaking out about what they'd just witnessed.
Ash's jaw was on the ground. "That was... that was AMAZING! Pikachu, did you see that?! That other Pikachu is so strong!"
Ash's Pikachu looked deeply contemplative, staring at Red's Partner Pikachu with something like admiration mixed with determination.
Red's Partner Pikachu hopped back onto his shoulder, looking insufferably smug. "Pika pika!" It seemed to be saying "Of course I won. Was there ever any doubt?"
Red's Partner Eevee, not to be outdone, puffed up importantly from its position near his feet, as if saying "I could have done that too, if I wanted to."
"What WAS that move?" Brock asked, his squinty eyes as open as Red had ever seen them. "I've studied Pokemon for years, and I've never seen anything like it. It looked like a combination of Quick Attack and Thunderbolt, but faster. And the way it hit... was that a guaranteed critical strike?"
Red typed on his Pokedex:
"Zippy Zap. Special move only my Pikachu knows. Always lands critical hits."
Brock read the message and looked like he was going to pass out. "A move that ALWAYS crits? That's... that's broken. That's completely broken."
Red nodded sagely. Yes. Yes it was.
"My Pikachu doesn't know any moves like that," Ash said, looking at his partner with a thoughtful expression. "But we'll get stronger! Right, buddy?"
"Pika!" Ash's Pikachu nodded determinedly.
The group of trainers was still in chaos. More challenges were being shouted, autograph requests were multiplying, and someone was asking if Red would teach them how to train their Pokemon.
This was getting out of hand.
Red looked at Misty, trying to convey "please help me escape" through eye contact alone.
Misty, bless her, seemed to understand. "Okay, that's enough! The Champion is busy! We're traveling to Cerulean City, and we need to get moving!"
"But—" one of the trainers started.
"NO BUTS!" Misty grabbed Red's arm and started pulling him away. "Come on, let's go!"
Ash and Brock followed, with Ash still chattering about how amazing that battle was and how he couldn't wait to get strong enough to battle Red properly.
Red's Partner Pikachu preened on his shoulder, clearly loving the attention.
Red himself was having a minor existential crisis.
That battle had been nothing. A complete non-event. His Pikachu had one-shot a Raticate without breaking a sweat, using a move that shouldn't even exist in this universe.
And his Pikachu was just ONE of his Pokemon.
He had nearly two thousand others, including dozens that were even more powerful.
He had legendaries.
He had ARCEUS.
Red was starting to realize that he might be slightly overpowered for this reality.
Just slightly.
They made camp that evening in a clearing by a small stream. Brock took charge of cooking dinner (and Red had to admit, even from just watching the preparation, the guy knew what he was doing), while Ash released his Pokemon to stretch and play.
Ash's team at this point was... modest. His Pikachu, of course. A Pidgeotto that looked healthy and strong. A Butterfree that was clearly well-loved. And a Caterpie that was apparently in the process of evolving, if the way it was occasionally glowing was any indication.
"I know it's not a big team yet," Ash said, noticing Red watching. "But I'm going to catch lots more Pokemon! I want to catch 'em all!"
Red felt a pang of irony. He HAD caught them all. Well, all of them up through Generation 8. It was sitting in his PC storage right now.
He typed on his Pokedex:
"Good goal. Keep working hard."
Ash beamed at the encouragement like Red had just given him a priceless treasure. "Thanks! That means so much coming from you!"
Red felt like a fraud.
"Hey," Misty said, settling down next to him with a curious expression. "Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
Red nodded, indicating she could continue.
"Why did you come down from Mt. Silver? The stories say you were up there for years, training in isolation. What made you decide to rejoin the world?"
Red didn't know how to answer that. The truth—"I died in another universe and woke up here an hour ago"—wasn't exactly going to fly.
He typed carefully:
"I felt it was time. There's more to learn by traveling than by staying in one place."
Misty nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I guess even someone as strong as you can still want to grow."
Red shrugged. He definitely wanted to grow—specifically, he wanted to grow his understanding of how the hell this world worked and what he was supposed to do in it.
"Dinner's ready!" Brock announced, and everyone gathered around the fire.
The meal was simple but delicious—some kind of stew with bread that Brock had apparently packed from Pewter City. Red's Pokemon ate specialized Pokemon food that he found in his backpack (apparently his inventory was as comprehensive as his PC storage), and he noticed that his Partner Pikachu and Eevee got special premium food that sparkled slightly.
Because of course it did.
"So, Red," Brock said between bites, "I've been thinking. Your Pikachu's move earlier—Zippy Zap—that's not something I've ever seen documented. Are there other unique moves your Pokemon know?"
Red hesitated, then typed:
"My Pikachu knows several special moves. My Eevee also knows unique moves."
"Really?" Ash leaned forward eagerly. "What kind of moves?"
Red typed:
"My Eevee can use Water, Electric, Fire, Psychic, Dark, Ice, Fairy, and Grass type moves. All with special effects."
The silence that followed was profound.
"ONE Eevee?" Misty's voice came out as a squeak. "That knows EIGHT TYPES OF MOVES?"
Red nodded.
His Partner Eevee, hearing itself discussed, looked up from its food bowl with a proud expression. "Vee!"
"That's... that's impossible," Brock said slowly. "Eevee can evolve into different types, but a base Eevee shouldn't be able to..."
"Can we see?" Ash was practically vibrating. "Can your Eevee show us one of its moves?"
Red looked at his Eevee, who seemed more than happy to show off. The little Pokemon bounced over to an open space and struck what could only be described as a dramatic pose.
Red pointed at a large rock nearby and made a burning gesture with his hand.
His Partner Eevee's eyes lit up with glee. "Vee... VEE!"
And then it used Sizzly Slide.
The Eevee burst into flames—not actually on fire, but surrounded by fire—and launched itself at the rock in a blazing tackle. The rock cracked from the impact and was left visibly scorched.
"FIRE?!" Ash screamed. "AN EEVEE USED A FIRE MOVE?! WITHOUT EVOLVING INTO FLAREON?!"
"That's incredible," Brock breathed. "And you said it can use EIGHT types?"
Red nodded again.
"Show us another one!" Misty demanded. "I want to see a water move! No way an Eevee can use water attacks!"
Red gestured to his Eevee, who looked absolutely delighted to have an audience. The little fluffball turned toward the stream and took a deep breath.
"VEE... BOUNCY BUBBLE!"
A massive sphere of water materialized around the Eevee, which then launched itself toward the stream and back, bouncing like some kind of aquatic pinball. Water splashed everywhere, and the Eevee landed gracefully, looking refreshed and somehow even healthier than before.
"It healed itself," Brock observed, sounding faint. "That water move HEALED it."
Red typed:
"Bouncy Bubble restores health equal to half the damage dealt."
"BROKEN," Misty declared. "That's completely broken! How is that fair?!"
Red shrugged. It wasn't fair. That was the whole point. The Let's Go partner Pokemon were designed to be completely overpowered, and those broken mechanics had apparently translated directly into this world.
His Partner Eevee bounced back over to him, clearly pleased with itself, and settled in his lap with a satisfied "Vee~"
His Partner Pikachu, apparently feeling competitive, sparked on his shoulder and gave Red a look that clearly said "I can do cool moves too, you know."
Red patted it reassuringly. Yes, he knew. Zippy Zap was ridiculous. Floaty Fall was ridiculous. Splishy Splash was ridiculous. The whole setup was ridiculous.
He was ridiculous.
This entire situation was ridiculous.
"I have to get stronger," Ash said suddenly, his voice filled with determination. "Red, will you train with me? Will you help me and my Pokemon become as strong as yours?"
Red looked at this boy—ten years old, at the very beginning of his journey, eyes shining with hope and ambition—and felt something warm in his chest.
He typed:
"Yes."
Ash's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?! You'll really train me?!"
Red nodded.
"YES! Did you hear that, Pikachu?! We're going to be trained by the Champion!"
"Pika pika!" Ash's Pikachu looked equally excited, already turning to Red's Partner Pikachu with a determined expression, as if challenging it to a training session right then and there.
Red's Partner Pikachu accepted the challenge with a casual "Pika," and the two electric mice scampered off to a nearby clearing to spar.
"This is really happening," Brock murmured, watching the scene with something like wonder. "We're traveling with Red. The legendary Red. And he's going to train us."
"Don't get too starstruck," Misty said, though she was smiling. "He's still just a person. Right, Red?"
Red wasn't sure how to answer that. He was a person, yes. Just... not the person they thought he was. Not the legendary champion who had conquered Kanto and trained in isolation for years. He was Marcus Chen from another universe, a guy who played too many video games and died in the middle of writing an angry Reddit post.
But maybe that didn't matter.
Maybe what mattered was that he was here now, with these people, with these Pokemon. Maybe what mattered was making the best of this insane situation.
Red typed one more message and showed it to the group:
"Looking forward to our journey together."
Misty smiled. Brock looked honored. And Ash...
Ash tackled Red in a hug so enthusiastic that he nearly knocked them both into the campfire.
"This is the best day ever!" Ash declared. "First I get the Boulder Badge, then Brock joins us, and now the Champion is coming too! Nothing can stop us!"
Red, somewhat awkwardly, patted Ash on the back.
His Partner Eevee made an annoyed sound at being squished and wiggled free, taking up a position on Red's head instead.
This was his life now.
Traveling with a hyper ten-year-old, a water-type specialist who was afraid of Gyarados, and a rock-type expert with girl problems.
Carrying nearly two thousand Pokemon, including multiple legendary beings and literal gods.
Unable to speak a single word.
Wearing a legendary trainer's face and carrying his reputation.
Red looked up at the stars—different stars than the ones he'd grown up with, in a different sky, in a different universe—and made a silent vow.
He would figure this out. He would find his place in this world. And he would do his best to help Ash on his journey, because that's what heroes did, right? And apparently, he was a hero now. A legendary one.
No pressure.
Later that night, while everyone else was asleep, Red sat by the dying embers of the fire with his Pokedex, scrolling through his PC storage.
He stopped on a particular entry and stared at it for a long moment.
ARCEUS
Level: 100
Nature: Serious
Ability: Multitype
Status: Awaiting summons
Red had the literal god of the Pokemon universe in his pocket.
He could, theoretically, summon it right now. Release a being of infinite power into a world where Ash Ketchum had just gotten his first gym badge and was still learning the basics of Pokemon training.
That would probably break something.
Red decided not to do that.
Instead, he looked at his Partner Pikachu and Partner Eevee, both curled up against him in sleep, and felt a wave of affection that surprised him with its intensity.
These Pokemon loved him. All of them did, according to the affection ratings in his Pokedex. Nearly two thousand creatures, all of them devoted to him with absolute loyalty.
He didn't deserve it. He wasn't really the trainer who had raised them, who had caught them, who had bonded with them over years of battles and adventures.
But they didn't seem to care about that. They were HIS now, and he was THEIRS, and maybe that was enough.
Red closed the Pokedex and looked up at the stars again.
Somewhere out there, Team Rocket was plotting. Legendary Pokemon were slumbering. The Pokemon League was waiting. And countless adventures were unfolding across the regions.
He had no idea what the future held. He didn't know why he'd been brought here, or what his purpose was supposed to be, or how long this new life would last.
But for the first time since waking up in this world, Red felt something like hope.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
(Famous last words, as it turned out. But that's a story for the next chapter.)
END OF CHAPTER 1
Next time: The group encounters their first major threat, Red accidentally terrifies a wild Pokemon population into submission just by existing, and Ash challenges him to a proper battle with unexpected results. Also, someone recognizes Red in Cerulean City and it causes WAY more chaos than anyone anticipated.
But that's a story for another chapter.