Pokemon Regression

Prologue

The snowflakes drifted gently down over the fresh prints of war. A battlefield where fate had already made it's claim, the beautifully white snow contrasted with the large pools of red and purple liquid that had dyed the terrain.

I stared hazily down at the red puddle forming around the frosty remains of my partner, trying not to think about how much of the blood was from the remainder of my right arm.

"...Last words?"

A feminine voice called out to me, and I directed my gaze towards it's owner. Despite the desperate and bloody battle our side had fought, the beautiful blonde was completely unblemished. Even the hem of her jacket was untouched.

I chuckled lightly. "What do you care. You've slaughtered our men without a care in the world, why listen to me?"

The woman was quiet for a moment, her face cold and lifeless.

"I've made it a habit to listen to the last words of the greatest warrior of each battle."

...Greatest warrior? I was just some half-baked captain who led his men to their deaths. Calvin, Chad, Dave... All of them died. Even...

"...Greatest warrior? I didn't do a thing."

I found my eyes drifting to the body of petite man my age, his body cleft in twain. He had been the shining hope of our region, and yet she had still beaten him without injury.

"You were the last to die. That makes you the greatest warrior."

I chuckled.

"Stronger than Red the Hero? I suppose he was no match for you either."

"In my experience, the one who lives the longest, is the most dangerous."

I didn't answer.

"May I take it that those are your final words?"

I stared into her cold eyes. The dark grey eyes belonging to Cynthia, the champion of the Sinnoh region. Eyes that were devoid of all humanity.

"...Last words, huh?"

I glanced back down to the Raticate by my side, lowering my head as if lost in thought.

"I..."

In a sudden motion, I burst from the snow and towards her throat. Her eyes widened momentarily, and the knife hidden in my left hand swung just shy of her neck as she yanked her head away.

A lock of golden hair drifted towards the ground, mixing to the snow. A drop of blood fell from the tip of my knife, having just barely pierced the skin of my adversary.

"Would you look at that." I laughed. "I'm the first person to wound the famous Cynthia!"

Cynthia didn't seem to find it so funny, her face scrunching up in contempt.

"Oh what, did you think I would cave in to despair just because I'm bleeding out? Sorry princess, but if I'm gonna die, I'm TAKING YOU WITH ME!"

I lunged at her again, but I already knew it was in vain.

"Dragon Claw"

And in one swift motion, my head was detached from my neck. 

In the final moments before all of the life left my body, I could feel my last thoughts fading from my brain.

Ah... If only I'd trained a bit harder. If only I'd gotten a better partner, maybe things would be better.

If only I could have a second chance...

...

...

...

"Cyan! Wake up Cyan!"

I blinked a few times, staring blankly upwards. I could hear the ticking of a familiar clock as it counted down the seconds. The subtle hum of a slow roof-mounted fan, and the chittering of birds outside sounded just like the Pidgeys back home. Didn't I just die?

"Did someone save me...?" I muttered in disbelief.

No, my head had definitely been separated from my body. Surely even the best doctors couldn't save me from that. Was it all a dream, then? No, the memories were too fresh for that. I felt as if I'd been on that cold wasteland seconds ago. They weren't foggy and unrecognisable. 

Slowly, I sat up. The room felt eerily familiar, the computer in the corner, the bedsheets, even the posters on the wall reminded me of the room I grew up in back in Pallet town.

I missed Pallet town. It was destroyed even before the great war started, back when I was still a kid.

I blinked a few times.

Yeah, it'd definitely been destroyed but... This was my room.

I climbed out of the bed, and as I did so, I noticed that my hands looked different than how I remembered. More than that, I noticed that I still had BOTH of my hands.

In a hurry I dashed to the bathroom, staring intently at my reflection in the mirror. A young boy with blue hair, and a dash of white on the front, stared back at me. His yellow eyes reminded me of my own, and he looked like he would grow to be a fine young man.

He looked exactly like I did when I was a child.

Well of course he did.

Because I was that boy.

I took a deep breath, making sure my eyes weren't deceiving me. Slowly pulling, tugging, poking and pinching myself to make sure that the boy in the mirror was really me. With every move I made, the reflection followed me perfectly.

"How on earth..." I muttered to myself.

Almost as if in response, a strange flat rectangle materialised in front of me like a window in a video game, filled with text.

[Your second chance has been granted.]