Pokémon Slate Gray is an illustrated "original fanfic" i.e. a brand-new adventure set in Satoshi Tajiri's Pokémon world, featuring original characters, an original region, and even original Pokémon (Fakemon). Each chapter includes at least one piece...
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Slate woke with a start. He lurched up from his vertical position, panic rising inside him as he rapidly took in his unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a medium-sized room, with what looked like metal sheeting covering its large windows, and he wasn't alone. April lay sleeping on the floor next to him, and five strangers were spread out across the open space, sitting on sleeping bags.
The exposed ceiling was crisscrossed with wires and ventilation tubing. A large desk had been pushed against the wall, presumably to make more room for the occupants. There were two doors; one that stood ajar, and a sturdy-looking metallic one with no apparent handle. A keypad was affixed to the wall next to it.
His head spinning, Slate reached for the Poké Belt around his waist. It was empty, and his bag was nowhere in sight. Team Shade had taken his Pokémon; Eevee, Cryote, Crimsant, Larvoid, Beakon, and even his egg. They had taken him. He rebuked himself for allowing it, for not fighting the Hypnosis hard enough, for not predicting the mayor's betrayal.
As Slate's breathing became ragged, one of the strangers approached him. "Easy, son," spoke a bearded, black-haired man in his late forties, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Take a deep breath. You're safe. Relatively speaking."
"Where am I?" Slate asked, spotting a clock on the wall, and considering what the time might indicate. It was almost nine o'clock now. His match began at seven, so they couldn't have gone too far. Then again, they were probably transported by helicopter.
"We're not sure. We think this was an office. It has a private bathroom over there, so it must have belonged to some big wig," said the man in a calm manner. "Like you, we were all kidnapped by Team Shade and brought here asleep or blindfolded. Some of us have been here a day or two. Me and Bob have been here almost three weeks now."
"What? Three weeks? And no one's found you?" Slate despaired.
"Well, I'm sure the police are looking for us," the man said with a note of skepticism. "They will certainly be motivated to find youngsters such as yourselves. Speaking of which, we should wake your friend up."
Much to Slate's dismay, April reacted worse than he had, breaking into tears as the truth of the situation became apparent. He was a little taken aback by the girl's open display of emotion. She usually put on a tough front, but evidently, a front was exactly what it was. He tried to console her while assaulted with pangs of guilt. He should have known. He should have done...something.
After April calmed down, the man introduced the other prisoners, "This is Alice, Bob, Graham, and Jenny. And I'm Joe."
Slate introduced himself and April.
"Joe?" April mumbled.
"What's that?" the man responded.
"That's not short for Joseph, is it? You're not Joseph Quinn, are you?" she added.
