Chapter One: The Reclusive Youth of Silver Mountain (Vote Requested!)

Silversnow Mountain—a boy was making his way slowly into its depths.

Beside him strode a yellow-and-blue beast-shaped Pokémon, heat radiating from its back, blue smoke curling upward, providing the trainer with warmth.

Unlike the lower slopes, where forest and stone dominated, at the heart of Silversnow Mountain lay a dazzlingly bright, snowy clearing—strangely out of place. This was a mountain of pure white, and now, great flakes fell heavily.

The boy pressed onward, finally reaching his destination:

The summit of Silversnow Mountain.

There, a man in a red cap sat with his back to him. His clothes were simple, his demeanor that of one who had endured harsh training, sitting in silence atop a high platform.

This was Gold. After becoming the Champion of the Johto League, he had learned a secret: it was said that someone even stronger than the League Champion resided here, training endlessly atop Silversnow Mountain.

Gold had heard of this figure often, especially after leaving Johto to travel the Kanto region—one who had defeated all eight Gym Leaders, dismantled Team Rocket, and bested the League Champion—a living legend...

"Hey! Battle me!" Gold shouted, raising his Poké Ball.

Beside him, Typhlosion surged to its full height, claws clenched, back arched, and a torrent of unprecedented flames erupted behind it.

The mysterious man remained silent, turning around to reveal cold, colorless eyes, his expression unchanging.

Ever since Green had exposed his whereabouts, he had been pestered by countless trainers hoping to win fame by defeating him. Yet, to this day, none had forced him to call out a second Pokémon.

Perhaps it was the loneliness of the snowbound peak, or perhaps the burden of standing so high above others—it had made him not only stronger, but more reclusive.

Yet, today, this boy’s arrival caused his gaze to shift ever so slightly, as if destiny itself had sent a challenger.

"Very well," he said, his first words in years, voice cold and mechanical.

He threw a Poké Ball. In a burst of red light, a small, round-faced electric mouse appeared on the snow.

"Pikachu. A common Pokémon, nothing special," the Pokédex droned automatically.

"Then try this one!" Gold declared, hurling his own Poké Ball.

In the next instant, a colossal figure appeared on the mountainside. The falling snow seemed to halt in midair, a crushing pressure enveloping the field.

Silver-white skin, a lithe, beastly form, wide wings shaped almost like hands.

The Sea Guardian—Lugia!

The man’s eyes lit up. Before him, Pikachu licked its lips, golden electricity crackling dangerously on its cheeks. The battle was about to ignite...

...

...

"Is everyone using Nokias now...?" Neither combatant noticed the blurred figure floating above them.

Calm eyes watched in silence, the face strangely similar to the mysterious youth below.

Like a ghost, or something apart from this world.

His name was Red.

Just hours ago, Red had been honing his resolve in the icy wilderness. Then, realization struck.

Red understood he was nothing but a fictional character in a game. True, he had memories of receiving his first starter from Professor Oak, his first Gym battle, his first fight with Green...

Battling Team Rocket, facing the Elite Four... Even memories of traveling to Alola with Green and Blue were intact.

But the details—none of them remained.

It was only now that Red fully grasped it. This world was nothing but a digital illusion, every detail scripted in code.

Even though he had become nearly invincible, he was still just a puppet in a game.

Knowing this, Red transcended—his soul shedding the confines of his body.

But truly, as nothing more than a line of code, what soul could he possess?

Now, below him, his own puppet body stood as the world’s final boss, locked in battle with another era’s protagonist.

This was the ultimate showdown.

Freed from all chains, Red almost wished he had a bucket of popcorn in hand.

The fight raged on—Pikachu clashed with Lugia, golden lightning and air-blasting shockwaves colliding, splitting the very base of Silversnow Mountain, the match ending in a draw.

Next, Snorlax faced a strange red Gyarados.

Venusaur took on Entei...

Lapras met Suicune...

Charizard battled Ho-Oh...

Red felt his scalp tingle. Did all players now fancy themselves legendary collectors? So shallow!

Only by nurturing ordinary Pokémon into the strongest did one prove worthy of being called a true trainer!

...

At last, Gold’s trump card, Typhlosion, took the field.

Flames soared skyward from its back, the scene erupting like a volcano, raising the temperature of Silversnow Mountain.

"Go, Mewtwo!"

Red’s puppet self sent out his final Pokémon.

Boom, boom, boom...

After a fierce struggle, just as Gold managed a hard-fought victory, the puppet Red broke into an odd, relieved laugh, then turned his back, falling into a strange silence.

Suddenly, blinding white light flashed atop Silversnow Mountain, dazzling Gold and obscuring everything.

When the light faded, the puppet Red had vanished.

This was the ultimate battle.

It was also the final curtain.

Red had completed every task assigned to him in this world; naturally, he vanished.

Up above, Red’s soul knew that had he not just awakened, he’d have vanished as well.

"So, where do I go now...?"

He was puzzled.

He was now an unnecessary existence.

Suddenly, Red sensed a vortex at the horizon, tugging at his soul.

All color faded from before his eyes—the world became nothing but black and white...

Soon, he was sucked in, consciousness fading...

...

...

When Red awoke again, dazzling light stung his eyes.

He looked around—a vast forest. It resembled the ones he’d traversed before, yet everything was different.

There was life!

Red quickly realized—this was a real world!

"I’ve crossed over?"

He looked at himself—still in spirit form, but with a thought, he could float.

"Chirp, chirp, chirp!"

Before he could decide what to do next, frantic bird cries erupted from the jungle, and a swarm of Spearow burst from the trees, flying in the same direction.

Curious, Red instinctively drifted that way.

Rain had begun pouring from the sky.

From a high cliff, Red saw a young boy furiously pedaling his bicycle.

In the basket ahead, a battered, widely-seen electric mouse lay—nearly at its end.

"A rookie trainer provoked a Spearow, got the whole flock chasing him, and now his Pokémon is on the brink of collapse?" Red guessed.

He wanted to help, but could only watch.

Crash!

On a muddy slope, the boy—also in a cap—lost control, tumbling off his bike. The barely conscious Pikachu was flung several meters, landing in the mud.

Now, the Spearow horde encircled them, circling overhead, poised for attack.

Red’s eyes widened—he almost wished for popcorn again.

To witness such excitement right after crossing over—what luck.

...

But the situation shifted again.

Shaking, the boy—still with traces of innocence—stood up, stretched his arms wide, and shielded Pikachu with his own body.

"Hey, what do you think I am?"

"I’m going to be a Pokémon Master one day!" he shouted.

"Pikachu, now’s your chance—get in the Poké Ball..." he added in a lower voice.

Clearly, he wasn’t as brave as he sounded; the yelling was just an act of desperation.

But the Spearow didn’t understand human speech. With a screech, the flock attacked!

Every year, countless rookie trainers met untimely ends—this was nothing unusual.

Red, though sympathetic, could only watch in silence.

"Pika..."

But the next moment made Red pause.

The Pikachu, collapsed in the mud, suddenly summoned real strength, trembling as it stood, then dashed forward.

"Chu..."

Climbing up Ash’s body, it leapt from his shoulder, charging headlong into the flock of Spearow.

So tiny, so insignificant before the vast flock.

"PIKA!!!"

With a piercing cry, terrifying currents exploded from its cheeks, engulfing its body in golden lightning that shot into the sky.

CRACK-BOOM!

A massive thunderbolt split the heavens, Pikachu’s electricity detonating in an instant.

The surge struck every Spearow at once. The force didn’t stop there—it blasted a hole in the black clouds above, leaving a gap of clear sky.

BOOM!

The lightning blinded Red, and before the sound even reached him, he felt a terrifying pull from the thunder’s source.

He had no power to resist—the ghostly form of his spirit body was drawn in.

cout

That was his final thought...

...

...

As the lightning faded, the Spearow, terrified out of their wits, scattered back into the forest.

The boy and Pikachu, utterly spent, collapsed in the mud, looking at each other.

Their hearts were now in perfect sync.

The black clouds parted, the rain ceased, and a rainbow arched across the sky.

A brilliantly colored, bird-like Pokémon soared past, radiating seven hues of light. Sacred droplets fell, healing the two of them and restoring much of their HP.

Finally, they were able to rise, gazing up into the sky.

"What kind of Pokémon was that?" the boy asked dazedly.

"Fearow. Common flying-type Pokémon, bad temper," announced a mechanical voice from his pocket.

As a novice Pokédex, it often automatically reported wild Pokémon data. Fair enough.

Whether by coincidence or fate, the mysterious bird in the sky shed a single feather.

Whoosh!

It drifted gently down, landing perfectly at the boy’s feet.

Ash picked up the rainbow feather, his face the very image of awe.

"So this is what wild Fearow are like? I’m so glad I could come out and travel!"

Delighted, he exclaimed.

Ash had seen Fearow in Pallet Town—just the normal, single-colored kind.

But this one, radiating an aura as if embodying the will of heaven and earth, carried a presence and pressure like nothing else.

"Tch. Just a Ho-Oh that’d go toe-to-toe with my Charizard..." came a deep, sudden voice in Ash’s mind.

He leapt up in shock, even Pikachu startled beside him.

"Am I possessed?"

Red: "You’ve won the lottery."

...