The morning after the Team Rocket encounter, Kenji woke up feeling genuinely optimistic for the first time since his reincarnation.
This was, of course, a mistake.
The universe had a sense of humor, and that humor was specifically calibrated to punish Kenji for any positive emotions he dared to experience. He should have known better. He should have woken up feeling vaguely anxious and mildly paranoid, as was appropriate for someone in his situation.
Instead, he had woken up thinking "today is going to be a good day."
Fool. Absolute fool.
They set out from Pewter City shortly after breakfast, heading east toward Mount Moon—the massive cave system that connected Pewter City to Cerulean City. According to Blue's enthusiastic explanations, Mount Moon was famous for Moon Stones, rare Clefairy sightings, and the occasional fossil discovery.
"It's supposed to be a straightforward path," Blue was saying, practically bouncing as he walked. "A few hours through the caves, maybe some trainer battles, and then we're in Cerulean City! Easy!"
"Nothing is ever easy for me," Kenji muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Lead the way."
The entrance to Mount Moon loomed before them—a dark opening in the mountainside, rough-hewn steps leading down into the earth. Other trainers milled about, preparing for the journey, comparing notes about the best routes and the most dangerous Pokemon.
None of them looked at Kenji twice.
This was suspicious.
By now, word should have spread about the trainer with the legendary Pokemon. About the Rayquaza descending on Pewter City. About the Team Rocket retreat. And yet, everyone was treating him like a normal person.
Maybe it was fine. Maybe news traveled slower in this world than he expected.
Maybe—
"CHAAAAAAMP!"
The roar came from somewhere to their left, loud enough to make everyone in the immediate vicinity flinch. It was followed by a rhythmic thumping sound, like something very heavy hitting the ground repeatedly.
"What was that?" Blue asked, hand going to his Pokeballs.
The thumping grew louder.
Closer.
And then, from around a boulder, a Machamp appeared.
Kenji had seen Machamp before—in games, in anime, in the various media of his old life. A four-armed fighting-type Pokemon, known for its incredible strength and martial arts prowess. Intimidating, certainly, but not unprecedented.
This Machamp was different.
For one thing, it was shiny—its normally blue-gray skin replaced with a vibrant green that gleamed in the morning light. For another thing, it was absolutely massive, easily seven feet tall and built like someone had stacked several professional bodybuilders on top of each other.
But the most notable thing—the thing that made Kenji's brain briefly stop working—was what it was wearing.
An orange gi.
A bright orange martial arts uniform, identical to the one worn by Son Goku in Dragon Ball Z.
The Machamp was cosplaying as Goku.
"What," Kenji said.
The Machamp struck a pose, all four arms flexing, and made a sound that was clearly meant to be a battle cry.
"CHAMP MACHAMP!"
Buzzwole's Pokeball burst open.
The Ultra Beast materialized beside Kenji, and for one blessed moment, Kenji thought Buzzwole was going to defend him. That it had sensed a threat and emerged to protect its trainer.
Then he noticed what Buzzwole was wearing.
A blue bodysuit with white armor.
White gloves.
The Saiyan battle armor of Vegeta from Dragon Ball Z.
"WHEN DID YOU GET THAT?!" Kenji screamed. "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?! WHY DO YOU HAVE THAT?!"
Buzzwole ignored him entirely, its attention fixed on the shiny Machamp with an intensity that Kenji recognized.
Rivalry.
Pure, undiluted, gym-bro rivalry.
"BZZZZZ!" Buzzwole announced, flexing its massive arms.
"CHAMP!" Machamp responded, flexing all four of its massive arms.
They began circling each other like fighters in a ring, muscles tensing, poses intensifying.
"Are they... having a flex-off?" Blue asked, his voice strangled.
"I think so."
"Why is the Machamp dressed as Goku?"
"I don't know."
"Why is your Buzzwole dressed as Vegeta?"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
Red was watching the display with an expression that suggested he had officially given up trying to understand anything about Kenji's life.
The flex-off continued.
Machamp threw a series of punches at the air, each one powerful enough to create small shockwaves. Buzzwole responded by doing push-ups—one-armed push-ups, with its other arm flexing continuously.
Machamp dropped and did sit-ups.
Buzzwole did crunches.
Machamp lifted a boulder over its head.
Buzzwole lifted a larger boulder.
This went on for approximately five minutes.
Finally, apparently reaching some kind of unspoken agreement, both Pokemon stopped their competition and turned to face Kenji.
Machamp walked over—strutted, really, with the confidence of someone who had never experienced self-doubt—and produced a Pokeball from... somewhere. Kenji didn't want to know where. The gi didn't have pockets.
"You want me to catch you," Kenji said flatly.
"MACHAMP!" Affirmative.
"Because you want to continue your rivalry with Buzzwole."
"CHAMP CHAMP!" Very affirmative.
"And the Dragon Ball outfits?"
Machamp flexed, which apparently was meant to be an explanation.
"That's not an answer."
More flexing.
Kenji looked at Buzzwole. "Did you know this Machamp? Before today?"
Buzzwole made a sound that conveyed something like "we've been gym rivals across multiple dimensions for eons, it's a whole thing, you wouldn't understand."
"I definitely don't understand."
He took the Pokeball.
He threw it.
Machamp dissolved into red light, still flexing as it was absorbed.
Click.
Thirteen Pokemon.
Buzzwole made a sound of satisfaction and returned to its own ball.
Blue and Red stared at Kenji.
Kenji stared at the Pokeball in his hand.
"I have a shiny Machamp that dresses as Goku," he said, his voice hollow. "To match my Buzzwole that dresses as Vegeta. Because they're interdimensional gym rivals. This is my life now."
"At least they're motivated?" Blue offered weakly.
"They're going to destroy my team with their competitive workouts."
"Maybe they'll motivate your other Pokemon to exercise more?"
Kenji imagined Darkrai doing push-ups in a Piccolo outfit.
"I need to stop thinking about this."
They entered Mount Moon.
The cave system was exactly as Kenji remembered from the games—dark, winding passages lit by glowing crystals, the distant sound of water dripping somewhere in the depths. Pokemon lurked in the shadows: Zubat hanging from the ceiling, Geodude embedded in the walls, the occasional Paras skittering across the floor.
None of them attacked.
This was... unusual.
"Is it just me," Blue said, after they had been walking for about twenty minutes without a single wild Pokemon encounter, "or are the Pokemon avoiding us?"
"They're definitely avoiding us," Red confirmed.
Kenji had a sinking feeling he knew why.
As if to confirm his suspicions, a Clefairy appeared at the next junction.
Not attacked. Not challenged them. Just... appeared. Standing in the middle of the path, looking at Kenji with an expression of what could only be described as reverent awe.
"Clef," it said softly.
Then it turned and began walking down the left passage, pausing to look back at them expectantly.
"I think it wants us to follow it," Red observed.
"I think you're right."
They followed.
The Clefairy led them through the caves with the confidence of a professional tour guide. Left turn here, right turn there, through a narrow passage that opened into a larger cavern, past a underground lake that glowed with an ethereal blue light.
Other Pokemon watched from the shadows as they passed.
Zubat hung motionless, their echolocation somehow conveying respect.
Geodude rolled aside to clear their path.
Paras formed tiny honor guards at intersections.
A Clefable appeared at one point, joining their Clefairy guide, the two of them chittering softly to each other while casting awed glances at Kenji.
"This is creepy," Blue whispered. "Why are they all looking at you like that?"
"My aura, probably. Apparently I'm a beacon for powerful Pokemon. These ones might not want to join me, but they can sense... whatever it is about me."
"And they're just going to guide us through the entire cave system?"
"Looks like it."
"That's... convenient?"
"I'm trying not to question it."
They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds their footsteps and the soft calls of their Pokemon guides. The caves of Mount Moon, which should have taken hours to navigate, were passing by in what felt like minutes.
At one point, they passed a group of Team Rocket grunts.
The grunts took one look at Kenji, went pale, and immediately fled down a side passage.
"Did they just run away?" Blue asked incredulously.
"Word must have spread," Kenji replied. "About what happened in Pewter City."
"But they didn't even try to—"
"Giovanni probably ordered them to retreat on sight. I may have mentioned his name during our little confrontation."
Blue stared at him. "You threatened the leader of Team Rocket?"
"I made some strongly worded suggestions about his life choices."
"You're insane."
"I have twelve legendary Pokemon. Thirteen now, with the Machamp. Insanity is relative."
They emerged from Mount Moon into the afternoon sunlight, the journey having taken approximately two hours instead of the expected five or six.
The Clefairy and Clefable that had guided them stood at the cave entrance, waving goodbye with their tiny pink arms.
"CLEF CLEF!"
"Thank you!" Kenji called back, and he meant it. "I appreciate the help!"
The Clefairy made a sound of pure joy at being thanked by the beacon-trainer, and then both Pokemon disappeared back into the caves.
"Well," Blue said, blinking in the sunlight, "that was the easiest Mount Moon crossing in history."
"Don't jinx it."
"What's going to happen? We're already out!"
As if the universe had been waiting for exactly this cue, reality tore open.
It wasn't an Ultra Wormhole this time. It wasn't a crack of golden light or a ripple in the sky. It was a ring. A massive golden ring, at least ten feet in diameter, hovering in the air before them and spinning slowly on its vertical axis.
Purple energy crackled within the ring's center.
Something was coming through.
"Oh no," Kenji whispered.
"Not again," Red said, which was basically a soliloquy by his standards.
The energy within the ring coalesced, taking shape, forming into something that made Kenji's heart stop.
Hoopa.
Not the small, confined form of Hoopa that most people knew. Not the mischievous little genie that caused relatively minor trouble.
This was Hoopa Unbound.
The true form of the mythical Pokemon, standing nearly twenty feet tall, with six massive arms and a body that seemed to be made of shadows and gold. Its eyes gleamed with ancient power, and its grin stretched too wide, too knowing, too amused.
This was a Pokemon that had, according to legend, summoned entire armies of legendary Pokemon for its own entertainment. That had warped space and time on a whim. That had been sealed away for centuries because its power was too dangerous to leave unchecked.
And it was looking directly at Kenji.
"HOOPA FOUND THE INTERESTING ONE!" its voice boomed, echoing across the landscape. "THE ONE ALL THE OTHERS KEEP TALKING ABOUT! THE BEACON! THE DREAMER! THE ONE WHO COLLECTS LEGENDS!"
"Please don't be here to join my team," Kenji begged. "Please be here for literally any other reason."
Hoopa's grin widened.
"HOOPA WANTS TO PLAY! HOOPA HEARD THE STORIES! THE LITTLE DREAMER WHO KEEPS CATCHING GODS! HOOPA WANTS TO SEE! WANTS TO BE PART OF THE FUN!"
"That's not a no."
"OF COURSE IT'S NOT A NO! HOOPA IS JOINING WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT! BUT FIRST—" one of its massive arms reached through another ring, disappearing into some other dimension, and emerged holding a Pokeball, "—THE FORMALITIES!"
The Pokeball was enormous. Easily three times the size of a normal ball, scaled to Hoopa's unbound form.
It dropped the ball at Kenji's feet.
The impact left a small crater.
"I'm going to need a bigger belt," Kenji said faintly.
"HOOPA LIKES THIS ONE! HOOPA MADE A GOOD CHOICE!"
"You haven't given me much of a choice."
"THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT FUN!"
Blue had hidden behind Red at some point during this exchange. Red was standing his ground, but his hand was on Pikachu's ball, clearly aware that even his partner wouldn't be able to do much against a fully unbound mythical Pokemon.
Kenji looked at the massive Pokeball.
He looked at Hoopa.
He looked at the sky, where hopefully no more legendary Pokemon were waiting to descend upon him.
"If I catch you," he said slowly, "are you going to cause trouble?"
"HOOPA ALWAYS CAUSES TROUBLE! IT'S WHAT HOOPA DOES!"
"Right. Of course." Kenji sighed. "Can you at least cause trouble in ways that don't destroy cities or tear apart the fabric of reality?"
Hoopa considered this.
"HOOPA CAN TRY. NO PROMISES. BUT HOOPA CAN TRY."
"That's... actually more than I expected."
He picked up the massive Pokeball. It was heavy—really heavy—and warm in his hands, pulsing with the energy of the mythical Pokemon before him.
He threw it.
It was an awkward throw. The ball was too big, too heavy, designed for something other than human hands. But it made contact with Hoopa's form, and the mythical Pokemon dissolved into red light, still grinning as it was absorbed.
The ball fell to the ground.
Wobble.
Wobble.
Wobble.
Click.
Fourteen Pokemon.
The massive Pokeball shrank in Kenji's hands, becoming a normal size, apparently adjusting itself to be more practical now that it contained its occupant.
"Did you just catch Hoopa?" Blue asked, his voice muffled from behind Red.
"Yes."
"Hoopa Unbound? The one from the legends? The one that once summoned a dozen legendary Pokemon to have a battle royale in Dahara City?"
"Yes."
"The one that can open portals to anywhere?"
"...Yes."
Blue was silent for a moment.
"Can it open a portal to a dimension where my life makes sense? Because I'd like to go there."
"I don't think that dimension exists for any of us anymore."
They made it approximately one hundred meters toward Cerulean City before the next interruption.
Kenji had almost been expecting it. The universe clearly wasn't done with him today. Machamp, Hoopa, the guided tour through Mount Moon—it had all been too easy, too straightforward. There had to be something else.
The something else announced its presence with a sound unlike anything Kenji had ever heard.
A screech, but not quite. A roar, but not quite. Something ancient and primal, a sound that belonged to an era before humans, before modern Pokemon, before the world had been shaped into its current form.
The air shimmered.
Reality bent.
And from the distortion stepped something that made Kenji's brain hurt to look at.
It was like a Scyther, but wrong. Different. The proportions were off, the colors were strange, and instead of the sleek green blades that Scyther was known for, this creature had massive stone axes for arms.
Kleavor.
But not just any Kleavor. This one was clearly ancient—its stone axes covered in moss and lichen, its body bearing scars from battles fought millennia ago. Its eyes held an intelligence that was both familiar and utterly alien.
And it was speaking.
Actually speaking.
In Japanese.
Old Japanese.
"汝が光を放つ者か?" the Kleavor said, its voice rough and grinding, like stone scraping against stone. "伝説に語られし,神々を集めし者よ."
Kenji stared.
His brain, which had been educated in Japanese in both his previous life and this one, translated automatically: "Art thou the one who emits the light? The one spoken of in legends, who gathers the gods?"
"Did that Pokemon just speak?" Blue asked, his voice cracking.
"In archaic Japanese," Kenji confirmed. "Old formal Japanese. Like, centuries old."
"WHY?"
"I don't know!"
The Kleavor took a step closer, its massive stone axes dragging small furrows in the ground. Its eyes—ancient, tired, filled with the weight of centuries—examined Kenji with an intensity that made his skin prickle.
"我は久しき時を待ちたり," the Kleavor continued. "此の世の果て,時の彼方より,汝の光を見たり."
"I have waited for a long time. From the ends of this world, from beyond time, I saw thy light."
Kenji's mind raced. A Kleavor that spoke ancient Japanese. That had been waiting for him. That could see across time.
"You're from Hisui," he said suddenly. "From ancient Sinnoh. You're a Hisuian Pokemon."
The Kleavor inclined its head, confirming.
"然り.我は古の地より来たりし者.汝の時代へ,汝の元へ,旅をしてきた."
"Indeed. I am one who came from the ancient lands. I have journeyed to thy era, to thee."
"How? How did you travel through time?"
The Kleavor made a sound that might have been a laugh—a grinding, rumbling noise that echoed off the nearby rocks.
"時は汝が思うほど固きものに非ず.特に,汝の如き存在の前では."
"Time is not as solid as thee thinks. Especially before an existence such as thine."
Great. His very existence was apparently weakening the barriers of time now. That was fine. That was absolutely fine.
"And you want to join me," Kenji said, not even making it a question anymore.
"然り."
"Of course you do."
The Kleavor reached behind itself—how did it reach behind itself with axes for arms? Kenji didn't want to know—and produced a Pokeball.
But not a modern Pokeball.
This was old. Ancient. Made of wood and stone and something that might have been primitive iron. It looked like a relic, something that belonged in a museum, something that predated the modern Pokeball by centuries.
An ancient Pokeball from Hisuian times.
The Kleavor placed it on the ground before Kenji, then stepped back and bowed.
"我が力,汝に捧げん.共に戦わん.共に歩まん."
"I offer my power to thee. Let us fight together. Let us walk together."
Kenji picked up the ancient Pokeball. It was warm in his hands, thrumming with an energy that felt different from modern technology—more organic, more connected to the natural world.
"I'm honored," he said, and he meant it. "I don't fully understand why you chose me, but I'll try to be worthy of it."
The Kleavor's ancient eyes softened.
"汝は既に相応しき者なり.さもなくば,我は来たらざりき."
"Thou art already worthy. Otherwise, I would not have come."
Kenji threw the ancient ball.
The Kleavor dissolved into a light that was subtly different from modern Pokeball capture—more golden, more natural, like sunlight rather than artificial energy.
The ball clicked shut.
Fifteen Pokemon.
Kenji looked at the ancient Pokeball in his hand. It was transforming, he realized—the old wood and stone reshaping itself, modernizing, becoming something that could interface with modern Pokemon technology while retaining its ancient essence.
"Did a prehistoric Pokemon just time travel to join your team?" Blue asked, his voice completely flat.
"Yes."
"And it spoke ancient Japanese?"
"Yes."
"And it came from a version of Sinnoh that existed hundreds of years ago?"
"Yes."
Blue was quiet for a long moment.
"I'm going to stop asking questions," he said finally. "Every time I ask questions, the answers make me want to lie down and never get up."
"That's probably wise."
Red was studying Kenji with that quiet intensity he sometimes got. "Fifteen Pokemon now. And some of them are from different dimensions. Different time periods. Different regions."
"I know."
"You're becoming something unprecedented. A trainer with a team that spans reality itself."
"I try not to think about it too hard."
"Maybe you should." Red's dark eyes met Kenji's. "This power... it's not random. It's building toward something. All these Pokemon, all these legends, all this impossible power gathering in one place. There's a purpose to it. Even if we can't see it yet."
Kenji didn't have a response to that.
Because Red was right.
Something was happening. Something bigger than him, bigger than his team, bigger than anything he could comprehend. The cosmic voice in his dreams had told him they would all come. That he was a beacon. That the adventure had only begun.
He just wished he knew what he was being prepared for.
They walked on toward Cerulean City, three trainers with vastly different teams and one shared sense of confusion about the nature of reality.
The sun was beginning to set by the time the city came into view—a sprawling urban center built around a massive cape, famous for its Water-type Gym and its beautiful seaside location.
"Finally!" Blue exclaimed. "Cerulean City! We made it!"
"We made it," Kenji agreed, though he couldn't shake the feeling that "making it" was just the beginning of something new.
They checked into the Pokemon Center—which had somehow been warned about Kenji's arrival, resulting in a Nurse Joy who greeted him with a mixture of awe and barely concealed terror—and got rooms for the night.
Kenji released his Pokemon in the private field behind the Center, letting them stretch and interact and do whatever it was that a collection of legendary and impossible creatures did for fun.
The Charizard lounged in the evening light.
Ho-Oh preened its magnificent feathers.
The legendary birds circled overhead in formation.
Kartana practiced cutting through air molecules.
Guzzlord ate a pile of rocks that Kenji had thoughtfully provided.
Celebi played tag with itself through multiple timestreams.
Darkrai lurked in the shadows, occasionally shooting annoyed looks at Rayquaza.
Rayquaza coiled through the air, being dramatic as usual.
Lucario meditated, its aura pulsing with impossible power.
Machamp and Buzzwole had found a corner of the field and were having an intense training session, their Dragon Ball outfits somehow having survived the day's events.
Hoopa had shrunk to its confined form—apparently it could switch between forms at will—and was floating around causing minor mischief, creating tiny portals to steal food from nearby tables.
And Kleavor stood apart, its ancient eyes watching the sunset, occasionally speaking quietly to itself in Old Japanese.
Fifteen Pokemon.
Fifteen partners.
Fifteen impossibilities that had chosen him.
Kenji sat on the grass and watched them, his new family, his collection of myths and legends and creatures that defied explanation.
Tomorrow, they would challenge the Cerulean Gym.
Tomorrow, something else would probably fall from the sky.
Tomorrow, his team would probably get even bigger, his life would get even more insane, and the universe would continue to treat causality as a suggestion rather than a rule.
But tonight?
Tonight, he was content.
And that was enough.
In his dreams that night, Kenji found himself in the void again.
But this time, he wasn't alone, and it wasn't the cosmic voice waiting for him.
His Pokemon were there—all fifteen of them, arranged in a circle around him, their forms glowing with inner light.
And at the center of the circle, something was forming.
A shape.
A presence.
Something vast and ancient and utterly beyond comprehension.
"THE GATHERING CONTINUES," the cosmic voice spoke, but this time it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once—from his Pokemon, from the void, from Kenji himself. "THE BEACON BURNS BRIGHTER. THE DREAMER GROWS STRONGER."
"What am I being prepared for?" Kenji asked. "What's coming?"
"BALANCE."
"What does that mean?"
"ALL THINGS REQUIRE BALANCE. LIGHT AND DARK. ORDER AND CHAOS. CREATION AND DESTRUCTION." The voice seemed to shift, becoming more focused, more urgent. "FORCES ARE STIRRING. FORCES THAT THREATEN THE BALANCE. FORCES THAT WOULD UNMAKE REALITY ITSELF."
"And I'm supposed to stop them? With my Pokemon?"
"YOU ARE THE ANCHOR. THE POINT AROUND WHICH LEGENDS GATHER. THE DREAMER WHO REFUSED TO STOP DREAMING." A pause, heavy with meaning. "YOU WERE CHOSEN NOT FOR YOUR POWER, BUT FOR YOUR HEART. FOR THE HOPE THAT BURNS EVEN IN DARKNESS."
The shapes around him—his Pokemon—seemed to pulse with agreement.
"REST NOW. GROW STRONGER. THE TIME APPROACHES."
"The time for what?"
But the void was already fading.
The dream was ending.
And Kenji woke up with the word "balance" echoing in his mind, feeling more confused than ever.
Morning came too quickly.
Kenji sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, trying to process the dream and failing.
Balance. Forces that would unmake reality. Being chosen for his heart.
It was too much. Too vague. Too ominous.
He decided to focus on what he could control: the day ahead. The Gym battle. The adventure.
Everything else could wait.
He got dressed, gathered his Pokeballs, and went to meet Red and Blue for breakfast.
The adventure continued.
And somewhere, in dimensions beyond counting, in times past and future, in realities that overlapped and intertwined, legends stirred.
They had heard the call.
And they were coming.
End of Chapter 6