being in the Pokemon world

Morning came slowly—hesitantly, as if the forest itself mourned what had happened the night before.

The first light spilled into the cave like a fragile blessing, golden and soft, but it couldn't hide the truth. Blood painted the stone floor in wide, uneven smears. The carcass of the Mightyena lay cold and twisted in a pool of congealed red. Its fur was matted, its limbs stiff with rigor mortis. One of its eyes had been gouged out, the socket sunken and blackened, as if darkness itself had found a home there. Flies buzzed in the silence, crawling over flesh that had once snarled with hunger.

The smell was unbearable—metallic and thick, a choking mixture of blood, dirt, and rot that clung to Alex's nostrils like a curse. It reminded him of raw meat left out too long. Of war. Of something that couldn't be undone.

Alex stirred, slowly, groggily, like a man coming out of a nightmare—only to find that it hadn't ended.

His clothes were torn and soaked, the fabric dried stiff with blood—his or Riolu's, he couldn't tell anymore. Pain throbbed behind his eyes like a warning bell. His mouth was dry. His knuckles were scraped raw.

Beside him, Riolu lay still. Chest rising, falling. Weak but alive. The little Pokémon's fur was stained a deep maroon, his body covered in bites and bruises. The wound on his arm looked worse now—puffed and swollen.

Alex crawled to him on all fours. His legs shook with effort.

He touched Riolu's forehead with the back of his hand. Still warm. But no fever. Not yet.

"You fought like a monster," Alex whispered hoarsely, voice cracking. "You saved us."

Outside the cave, the forest carried on. Birds chirped in the distance. Leaves rustled in the wind. Squirrels chattered in the trees. The world didn't care that something had died here. 

Alex stepped out of the cave, clutching a jagged dagger carved from the Mightyena's broken femur, its point sharpened with fire and desperation. The handle was wrapped in torn cloth from his own shirt. It wasn't much—but it was his.

His eyes were distant, haunted.

He looked at his reflection in a small puddle beneath a tree.

The boy who looked back was not the one who had died on Earth.

That boy had been small. Fragile. Afraid to speak. Afraid to be seen. A ghost in his own life.This one was different.He had blood on his hands now. Literal blood.

And he hadn't screamed. Hadn't cried.

He had survived.

By midday, Riolu stirred, his eyes fluttering open slowly, like he was surfacing from deep water.

Alex was at his side immediately, heart jumping. "Hey… you still with me?"

"…Ri…" The sound was weak. But it was his.

Alex felt something break in his chest—something fragile and pent-up. "You nearly died" His voice was hoarse, but a smile tugged at his lips anyway. "But I guess… so did I."

He gently fed Riolu an Oran Berry, holding it to his mouth and watching as the Pokémon chewed with slow, tired motions. His paws trembled, not from fear this time—but from overwhelming relief.

For the first time in his life something had gone right. Someone he cared about was still here.

They sat together in silence, letting the warmth of the sun reach their bones.

Then, without a word, Riolu leaned his small body against Alex's chest, eyes fluttering shut again.

Alex froze.

For someone like him—someone who had lived a life of isolation, who had spent more time hiding from people than talking to them—this simple act of trust felt like being struck by lightning.

"…Thanks," he whispered, barely able to say it aloud. His voice cracked under the weight of emotions he didn't know how to carry.

No one had ever leaned on him before.

Later, when Riolu was strong enough to stand, they dragged the Mightyena's corpse to a clearing and built a crude pyre from branches, dried moss, and kindling. Alex struck flint against steel again and again until finally, a spark caught flame.

The body burned.

Thick smoke curled into the sky, black and final.

Alex stood with Riolu beside him, eyes narrowed. "I won't let anything touch you again. Not until you're strong enough to tear the world apart."

Riolu said nothing—but his eyes gleamed. Not with hatred, not with bloodlust—but with purpose.

This world had taken enough from both of them.

Now it was time to take something back.

They returned to the cave by nightfall, the smoke of their first kill still drifting faintly through the treetops.

And in the darkness—something watched them.

Eyes gleamed among the leaves. Unblinking. Intelligent.Something with teeth.Something that smiled.

Their journey was far from over.

But Alex had made a vow.

And Riolu had made his own.

Together, they'd rise.

No matter the blood. No matter the pain.

Because now they had each other.And for once in Alex's broken, lonely life… that was enough.