being in the Pokemon world

The library in Emberhollow was one of the few buildings in the town untouched by time or desperation. It stood tall and solemn at the edge of the main square, its worn bricks whispering of stories long buried. Alex pushed the old wooden doors open, a thin cloud of dust rising to greet him. The musty scent of paper and aging leather was oddly comforting. It was quiet here—safe, in a world that had become anything but.

Charcadet waited outside, sitting by the steps like a flickering lantern, while Riolu followed Alex in, alert but calm. The librarian, an older man with round glasses and a coat that had seen better years, nodded wordlessly and pointed him toward the archives. He didn't need to ask why Alex was here.

Alex wanted answers.

Not just about Sinnoh, or Emberhollow, or the strange tension humming in the air lately.

He wanted to understand the world he had been reborn into—a world that, despite the warm moments with Riolu and Charcadet, felt cold and divided at its core.

The records room was dimly lit. Shelves stood like ancient sentinels, and data terminals glowed faintly, still connected to what little of the League's shared network remained. Alex sat at one and began typing.

"League Overview: Current Status"

The first few files were corrupted. Too much damage from past attacks. But one loaded, revealing a dated but updated overview. The screen flickered to life:

"GLOBAL POKÉMON LEAGUE STATUS: FRAGILE." DATE: 2 years post Black War.

His eyes narrowed.

*"Following the coordinated strikes launched by multiple villainous organizations (codename: Black War), the global League infrastructure has suffered irreversible damage. While individual Leagues across regions remain operational, global cooperation has ceased entirely save for minimal communication through surviving emergency satellites."

"The World Pokémon Council has been disbanded. The annual World Tournament is postponed indefinitely. Champions have since taken direct responsibility for security within their own borders."

*"Gyms remain active, though many lack consistent regulation. Most high-tier trainers have turned to regional security work. Former League staff are now considered military-grade assets in some regions."

Alex scrolled further.

Images filled the screen—blurry stills of explosions in Saffron City, Shadow Pokémon sightings in Unova, and collapsed buildings in Kalos. He saw the stadiums where battles once lit up the skies now used as refugee camps and command centers. What was once a world of celebration and competition had become a fractured landscape of survival and defense.

The Champions...

He searched next.

"Current Champion Status: Autonomous Protectors"

"All known Champions have retained their positions, but their roles have dramatically shifted. No longer figureheads or battle celebrities, they now act as the guardians and military commanders of their respective regions."

"Cynthia: Sinnoh. Current Status: Active. Sightings recorded along Mt. Coronet and Route 210. Known to operate solo missions against remaining Galactic cells."

*"Leon: Galar. Status: Confirmed. Conducts aerial scouting. Coordinates defense operations around Wyndon and Hammerlocke."

"Diantha: Kalos. Status: Low visibility. Suspected to operate from an undisclosed location. Active in Kalos border disputes."

*"Lance, Iris, Kukui, no valid information"

A photo came up of them—a rare gathering from five years ago. All the Champions standing shoulder to shoulder. Alex lingered on it.

He didn't recognize them from the games he remembered. These weren't symbols of aspiration. They were warriors. the appearance of the majority of them changing.

"Regional Isolation: Increasing"

The next document was harder to stomach.

"Post-War treaties failed. Each region now functions as an isolated state. Trade and trainer travel between regions is rare, monitored, or outright banned in some places. Kanto and Johto maintain the only strong regional link. Unova has closed its ports entirely."

"Foreign Trainers must be registered by surviving League offices. Most are turned away. Alliances are gone. Trust has vanished."

Alex leaned back, fingers trembling.

This wasn't the world he remembered from his old life.

There were still battles. Still Gyms. Still Champions. But they were shadows of what had once been.

Now, the League was fractured.

Yet... not broken.

Not completely.

He scrolled further until a final message appeared:

"Rebuilding efforts exist. Emberhollow, Sun Stone, Fallridge... small towns restoring Gym operations. Trainer networks reforming slowly. Champions observed offering mentorship in rare occasions. The League breathes—barely."

Alex shut the terminal.

He sat in silence, Riolu by his side, eyes closed.

This world was bleeding, but it hadn't died.

And perhaps... if he grew strong enough, if he helped rebuild it alongside Riolu and Charcadet, maybe he could find purpose here. Not just survival. But healing.

As he stepped back outside into the pale sunlight, Charcadet perked up. The fire in his eyes matched something new in Alex's.

Not vengeance. Not fear.

Hope.

Faint, but real.

The League still lived.

And maybe, just maybe, he could help it stand again.