Clouds sat unmoving in a grey sky. Boulders hung frozen in the air. Trees stood in full bloom, waiting to birth fruit that would never come. Waves were raised high in the ocean, but could not crash. The sun didn't shine and the stars didn't burn in the night sky. It could've been weeks, or years, since the world fell into darkness. The only indicators of time passing were the collapse of society and the stubble growing on his chin. With each passing day he felt weaker.
In this time, when the only warmth to be found was in your own blood, and gentle company, he tickled the chin of the Treecko clinging to his shoulder.
Treecko chirruped appreciatively, stretching to expose more of his chin to the young man's gentle touch.
Smiling to himself, he pried the little lizard from his shoulder, placing him down. 'I'm going again, Treecko.'
'No!' Cried Treecko.
He scoffed; he often talked to himself and Treecko had begun to learn some of the words. Now, the lizard had a vocabulary to match it's young age.
'I'll be back as fast as I can, I promise.' His face hardened and he pointed at the ground. 'You stay here this time. It's not safe out there.'
Treecko gazed upon his surroundings for the thousandth time. A small cluster of trees with a ramshackle hut built between. Brambles were piled against the roof and walls, making the home look more like a giant thorn bush. Treecko had been upset when the young man implemented the disguise; the human had gotten countless scratches from the thorns. Eventually, Treecko nodded.
Satisfied, he smiled and rubbed the Treecko's head. 'Good boy. I'll be back soon.'
Treecko watched his friend's retreating form as it slowly disappeared over the dark horizon, then he scurried inside and began to play with the ball the young man had made him. One question burned through the young Treecko's mind, 'if it's not safe, why do you go?'
Treecko knew the answer, but that didn't make it easier. So, Treecko played with his ball and tried not to think about it.
Across the darklands, the young man's destination came into view. Since the planet's paralysis, food didn't grow. Any existing food stores were quickly ravaged and very little could still be found on the planet's surface. The only reliable spot to find food was in mystery dungeons, and even then it was always grimy, and almost worse than starving.
Mystery dungeons were strange places, with no logic to them. How the items appeared or the layout changed, the young man didn't know. Not that it mattered. As long as food kept appearing, he could survive another day, and he would survive. Provided, he didn't die first.
Aggresive Pokemon roamed mystery dungeons, competing for food and items, or having just deemed the dungeon their home. Unable to compete with their strength, he found himself relying on speed and agility to escape. His policy was to get in, get out, maximise items with no complications. It was a practical, yet unrealistic, plan.
He had returned to the dungeon and now strode through long, dark hallways. The grey floor looked as if it were made of clouds, but it crunched like dirt. Thick walls of red and purple stone lined the edge of the dungeon.
Exiting the hallway, he cautiously stepped into a room, his gaze settling on what looked like a purple stone. He checked the coast was clear and dashed forwards, arm outstretched for the grimy food.
An explosion rocked the room and he was sent careening backwards. He skidded across the ground, coming to a rough stop. His legs burned and itched with the feeling of grazed skin. A Mismagius hovered protectively over the food, and it's eyes glowed blue as it prepared another Shadow Ball.
He was lucky the first attack had missed him, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. Standing slowly, he held out his hands innocently and began to back out of the room.
Mismagius watched cautiously, and held it's attack, the ball hanging ominously before it. As he reached the corridor he'd entered from, Mismagius decided it didn't want to take any chances, and launched the attack.
Seeing the Shadow Ball fire, he dove into the corridor. He landed hard and covered his head, shards of debris raining down on him. Then, he was up and running, desperately fleeing for the next floor. Mismagius gave up the chase and devoured it's prize.
'Moving on,' he muttered, slowing his pace. He continued his meticulous dungeon crawl and came across the stairs without finding any more food.
Stumbling on the stairs, he rolled onto his back, suddenly finding himself lying on the next floor. From his position, he could see a Drifloon watching him, it's eyes wide.
Drifloon emitted a loud, high-pitched whine. The cry was answered a moment later as a Drifblim floated in.
Drifblim's gaze narrowed and it spun, a ghostly wind bursting out from it. The Ominous Wind filled the room, slicing his clothes and leaving countless cuts upon his bare skin.
Drifblim was blocking the only exit to the room and was already readying another attack. He curled into a ball and ushered a silent plea that Treecko would forgive him. Yet, the attack never came.
Opening his eyes, he watched as a Dusclops came charging into the room, barrelling into Drifblim.
The two creatures roared and he scurried to his feet. Staying low, he shuffled about, looking for an opening. Then, as Drifblim prepared an attack, Dusclops threw ghostly balls of fire at it.
The young man charged forwards, ducking the fireballs and racing from the room. Though, as he passed, his gaze met Dusclops' and it was as if the young man could feel Dusclop's emotions, it's pain, sorrow, grief.
Tearing his eyes away, the young man kept running. He couldn't take any chances. Treecko was counting on him to return.
As he went, he happened upon a piece of grimy food, which he eagerly buried in his pockets. A sudden wind and deep groan emanated from somewhere within the dungeon.
His eyes widening, the young man cast caution to the wind and sprinted through the dungeon. Skidding round corners, he dove past aggressive Pokemon, hurrying for the exit, but then it caught his eye.
A gleaming red apple sat in the corner of the room he'd entered. Beside it was a sleeping Sableye.
There was no choice, no contest. Even as the wind picked up and the groaning grew it louder, even as it felt like the dungeon's maw was opening, ready to devour him, the young man charged for the apple. He leapt past Sableye scooped up the fruit and barreled down the nearest exit.
The wind continued to hasten, and the noise became unbearable in his ears. Yet, his gaze lit upon the stairs and he felt hope spark within him.
Diving for the stairs, the young man suddenly found himself outside the dungeon, his unblemished prize safe in his grasp. His mouth watered at the sight of the apple. So, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the grimy food, and ate it quickly. His body was wracked with stinging pain as it's ill effects rapidly spread. Hopefully it would die down by the time he reached home.
Every step was agony, poison shooting through his body likes hundreds of glass shards. There was no ignoring it, so, when he eventually reached his ramshackle hut, he bit down upon his tongue.
The young man strode in, smiled at Treecko, and handed the little lizard his apple. Treecko looked at the fruit in wonder, then glanced suspiciously at his friend.
The young man smiled and sat, leaning against the wall. 'I found two, but I was so hungry I already ate mine. Go ahead!'
Needing no further prompting, Treecko tore voraciously into the apple relishing it's sweet juices.
Meanwhile, he only tasted the warm blood spewing from where he'd bitten too hard upon his tongue. Still, he smiled. All the pain in the world couldn't tempt him to ruin Treecko's happiness in any way.
Rather, when he found he could speak again, he told Treecko stories of days long past. Stories of heroes, and friends, and sunrises.
