In a new world with my pokemon

Inside the basement of a cafe that was famous across the world

The executive stood before the figure, his head lowered as beads of sweat gathered at his brow. "I'm...extremely sorry. We didn't anticipate any interference, let alone in such an unexpected way. He dismantled the machine before it even had a chance to calibrate and start storing energy. I did manage to neutralize him, though."

The individual's gaze remained unyielding, assessing the executive in silence. After a tense pause, he finally sighed. "What's done is done. No need to dwell on it. We can't restart the process now—the stunt you pulled has alerted the League. They've already dispatched a team of Rangers to investigate the cave."

He turned away and moved towards his desk, lowering himself into his chair, his expression shadowed with disappointment. "And by now, League forces will likely involve themselves as well," he added, a note of resignation slipping through.

The executive kept his eyes fixed on the ground, unsure of how to respond. His words had already run dry; any excuse would only deepen his failure.

After a lingering silence, the figure spoke firmly. "You're dismissed."

…

From the dim edges of the room, a figure stepped forward as the door closed behind the executive. "I take it the reason for those devices has become clear to you, my dear scientist?"

The scientist adjusted his red glasses, a small glint in his eye. "Mega Evolution energy, sir."

The man seated at the desk nodded, turning his attention to a map of the Kalos region hanging on the wall. "Kalos is abundant with that energy," he explained, his gaze drifting thoughtfully across the region's landscapes. "If you know where to look, there's more than enough to harness."

The scientist's eyes followed the individual's eyes to the map, captivated by the implications. "How much... is enough, sir?"

Lysandre's stare turned steely, the subject of his stare now being the scientist himself.

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My appearance should be the least of my concerns right now. But I can't exactly ignore it either. My lab coat? Gone. My shirt? Half-burned and barely hanging on, scorched in patches. At least my pants had survived relatively intact, aside from a few tears here and there.

When I first woke up, I was completely flabbergasted to find myself in this state. How could I possibly look like this with no serious injuries? I had taken the brunt of two powerful Pokémon attacks. And yet, here I was—burn marks here and there, aching all over, but that was the extent of it? This doesn't add up.

It was an endless forest. Towering trees stretched endlessly, their thick canopies of lush green leaves intertwined to block most of the sky. The air was different here—fresh, almost intoxicating, brimming with oxygen like I had never experienced before. But something was off. The sky.

The sky wasn't right.

It was a surreal blend of red and blue, as if two realms had collided and refused to separate. The blue portion shimmered faintly, streaked with the colors of the rainbow, while the red bore ominous streaks of black, like scars cutting across its surface. It felt as if heaven and hell had met, clashing in a cosmic battle that painted the sky in their turmoil. The sight was breathtaking, hauntingly beautiful, and utterly alien—unlike anything I had ever seen or heard described.

And that, more than my injuries or my tattered appearance, was what didn't add up. This place… this world I'd found myself in.

What could I do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

As I stated before, I was lost—not just geographically, but existentially. I didn't even know where here was. And with that uncertainty weighing me down, the only option left was to move forward. To embark on a journey with no clear destination, guided solely by the fragile hope of finding one.

So, I walked.

A narrow path, almost like a natural pavement, unfolded before me amidst the dense greenery. Each step felt surreal, the soft crunch of leaves beneath my feet grounding me in an otherwise otherworldly setting. Above, the eerie sky began to shift. The strange fusion of red and blue flickered intermittently, and for the briefest moments, rays of sunlight pierced through the canopy. They bathed the forest floor in a golden glow, casting long, ethereal shadows that danced with the gentle rustling of the leaves.

It was mesmerizing, almost divine—a fleeting reminder that even in the strangest, most hopeless of places, there could still be beauty.

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In the middle of a sea, a fortress stood on a solitary island.

A routine day was unfolding as usual.

An alert pierced through the steady hum of the control room, its urgency marked by a flashing code red. The message carried a weighty implication—something far from ordinary. The vice-president herself addressed it, her voice calm but firm.

Yet, despite the high-level threat designation, they were instructed to disregard it.

The team obeyed, resuming their duties as though nothing had happened. Screens flickered, conversations carried on, and the room settled back into its familiar rhythm.

But for one officer, the directive left a lingering unease. The alert's significance, paired with the order to ignore it, gnawed at her thoughts.

Curiosity grew. Quietly, it consumed her.

So she decided to satisfy her curiosity.

…

The walk was quiet, save for the occasional beeps of machinery and the low murmur of officers exchanging data. Devices hummed softly, their lights casting faint glows across the room.

Despite the calm, her focus was fixed elsewhere. She trailed behind someone whose presence alone seemed to bend the flow of the day—a figure who, while not officially at the top, wielded a respect and influence that demanded acknowledgment. Even the Pokémon League's president would not dismiss her lightly.

As an officer, she had seen her fair share of powerful individuals, but none quite like this. The atmosphere around the woman was captivating, almost oppressive.

Sabrina.

She walked roughly thirty feet ahead, her steps light but purposeful.

Sabrina exuded an air of silent authority. Her jet-black hair, smooth and immaculate, flowed down her back, framing a face as pale as porcelain. There was a stillness in her features, a quiet that bordered on unsettling, and her eyes—those piercing amethyst orbs—were the kind that seemed to pierce through layers of reality, peering straight into the soul.

Her outfit was striking yet practical: a fitted crimson top with black accents, its high collar lending a regal edge. Black leggings hugged her frame, tucked neatly into sleek, heeled boots that added a touch of elegance without sacrificing utility. A thin silver chain hung loosely from her waist, catching faint light with each step. Her hands, clad in fingerless gloves, seemed poised for action, a subtle reminder of the immense psychic power they could channel.

Her posture was impeccable, almost statuesque. Every movement she made was deliberate, calculated, and precise. Around her, the very air seemed to hum with latent energy, as if reality itself bent subtly to her will. The boundary between her and the unseen forces she commanded felt blurred, an invisible line that none dared cross.

Every step she took resonated with authority. Officers who crossed her path instinctively stood straighter, their conversations halting mid-sentence. The faint hum in the air around her hinted at her psychic power—always present, always watching.

One thing was certain among the officers: if Sabrina had come in person, the alert from earlier that day was not something to be ignored—or dismissed lightly. Whatever had triggered it was significant, even if they had been told otherwise.

The officer trailing her knew this all too well. As a commander of one of the top five teams within the League forces, she had learned to read between the lines. Protocols were there to be followed, but certain figures, like Sabrina, operated on a level beyond the usual chain of command.

She continued her silent pursuit, fully aware that wherever Sabrina was headed, her own destination would inevitably align. Curiosity burned within her, but she kept her composure, her mind racing with possibilities.

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A figure sat behind a grand oak desk, the surface cluttered with neatly organized documents and a steaming cup of tea. His appearance was as dignified as his role demanded, yet there was a warmth about him that instantly set people at ease.

His white hair, styled in a neat but slightly voluminous manner, framed a round, kind face. A well-groomed mustache, the same snowy color as his hair, twitched slightly as he sipped his tea. His piercing blue eyes were sharp yet gentle, a perfect balance of wisdom and compassion. They held a glint of humor, as if he could see through the gravest matters but still find a reason to smile.

He wore a full hands t-shirt which was red and had a blue strip across the chest. His hands, though aged, were steady as they rested on the armrests of his chair, fingers occasionally drumming in thought.

Despite the weight of his responsibilities, there was an undeniable warmth in his demeanor. It was clear he was a leader who carried the League's burdens but never let them overshadow his approachable nature. Around him, the air seemed lighter, the room brightened by his mere presence.

Charles Goodshow.

The man who united a divided world and made it listen.

He was the visionary who established the Pokémon Leagues of Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn, with the help few other individuals, laying the foundation for organized battles and cooperation across regions. His influence extended far beyond, playing a pivotal role in the creation of the Leagues of Sinnoh, Unova, and Kalos, bridging gaps between regions that once stood isolated.

And the man who had brought all these Leagues to a single setting, placing them beneath one unified governing body—the High League—and established the Council of Peace.

The Pokémon League, under his guidance, became not just an institution of competition but a symbol of global cooperation and peace. It was his vision that turned fragmented alliances into a cohesive force, ensuring that the power of Pokémon battles was harnessed not only for prestige but for the betterment of all regions. His legacy echoed through every League he helped shape, each one a testament to his unwavering belief in unity.

The door to his office was flung open with little regard for formality.

Charles Goodshow barely raised an eyebrow. How rude. Barging into his office without a care. But then again, he didn't mind. After all, the only person who would dare to do this was—

"Do not ignore it."

"Ignore what?" Charles responded, maintaining his characteristic calm demeanor.

Sabrina's narrowed eyes locked onto him with a piercing gaze. "You know exactly what I am talking about, President."

Charles couldn't help but flash his trademark cheerful grin, the one he had perfected over the years. "You could liven up a little, Sabrina. Always so serious."

Sabrina's lips tightened, her eyes diverting from his as she looked away.

A soft knock echoed from the direction of the office entrance.

Charles turned his attention away from Sabrina, his gaze shifting to the figure standing in the doorway. It was one of his most trusted and strongest officers—

Juna.

The presence of the woman meant business, and from the look on her face, it was clear this wasn't a visit about casual matters.

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[Juna's POV]

I was so goddamn nervous when I saw her literally barging through to the president's office without a care.

Is this a privilege you get when you're so high up in the echelon?

I stayed back, keeping my distance, letting their brief conversation unfold in front of me. Sabrina was here for the same reason I suspected—the alert from this morning.

I couldn't help but tense as I listened to them, the weight of the situation pressing on me. It was one of those rare moments where I couldn't shake the feeling that something important, something dangerous, was just beneath the surface of their words.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself before I knocked on the door. It was already wide open, but the action felt necessary, a formal gesture, at least.

The president's gaze shifted towards me the moment the sound echoed in the room. His face held its usual unshakable calm, but I could see the way his eyes narrowed slightly, like a predator sizing up a potential threat. Sabrina didn't even flinch; she didn't need to, of course. She was Sabrina.

The room grew quiet, and the moment became heavier as I stepped into their presence.

Here goes nothing.

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My Pokémon were healed. That was the one thing I could be grateful for right now.

As for everything else? Well, I was still lost in this damn forest. Just like how it appeared when I first laid eyes on it—nothing but endless greenery, roots snaking through the ground, branches stretching into oblivion. The kind of place where if you didn't know where you were going, you'd lose your way in a heartbeat.

I sighed, leaning back against the massive tree. The roots of the ancient giant grew so thick that they formed a natural cave-like shelter. It wasn't much, but for now, it was enough. I could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing against me, but the urgency of getting out of here wouldn't let me rest for too long.

The Pokémon I had with me were scattered around, finally freed from the confines of their Poké Balls.

I glanced around at my team—still trying to make sense of everything. Nothing made sense. How had I ended up here? Why was everything so off? There had to be some explanation, but for now, I could only focus on what was right in front of me.

Finding a way out of this place, and soon, was my only priority.

But before that, I have to address something.

The whole reason I found myself in this situation.

My own foolishness and stupidity.

And my overconfidence, thinking I could meddle in their affairs and get away with it.

Haha, did I actually think of myself as the main character in some kind of show?

Because, really, WHY THE FUCK DID I THINK I COULD PUT DOWN AN EXECUTIVE?

What was I even thinking? I had grown too cocky, too sure of myself.

Things were already dire, but I went ahead and nearly got us killed. Or maybe... Alain was already dead.

A bitter smile twisted on my face. Tears stood on the verge of spilling, but they remained dry, refusing to fall.

Because what right did I have to cry after almost getting a friend of mine killed?

He was my second friend. In both of my lives, I've only made two friends, and now… one of them might be dead because of me.

I gritted my teeth. When did I become so cocky?

Why didn't I listen to the Professor's warning?

Why the fuck did I decide to play the hero and try to save the day in that damn cave?

"AHHHHHHHHHHhh…" I screamed in frustration and despair, the weight of possibly losing my only friend in this world crashing down on me.

My Pokémon stared at me, their eyes filled with worry.

I couldn't bring myself to look back into their gaze. The weight of their concern only made the guilt gnaw at me even more.

I didn't deserve their trust. I didn't deserve this.

How long had it been since I felt this vulnerable, I wonder?

A mirthless chuckle escaped my lips, faint at first, then growing louder. Before I knew it, I was laughing—a hollow, broken sound that echoed through the dense forest around me.

There was no humor in it, no joy. It was the laugh of a dead man, a desperate attempt to ward off the ghosts of my past. But they came anyway, their cold fingers dragging those haunting memories back into the forefront of my mind.

Another potential dead body was added to the list of ones I keep seeing on the nights.

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Flashback

"What do you want to eat for dinner, sunshine?" my dad asked, his voice light and cheerful as we sat inside the car. My mom was in the front passenger seat, and I was in the back, practically bouncing with excitement. Eating out was always a treat. And I had begged and convinced them to take me out to eat today.

"Dad, can I have a cheeseburger, please?" I pleaded, clasping my hands together like it would seal the deal. I'd just discovered the wonder that was cheeseburgers, and every chance I got, I asked for one.

"You do know that eating burgers every time we're out isn't healthy, right, sweetie?" my mom chimed in, her voice gentle yet firm.

I sank back into my seat, disappointed. "Oh..."

My dad let out a hearty laugh. "Don't worry, sunshine. Tonight, we're getting something even better than a cheeseburger." He gave me a confident grin, clearly enjoying playing the hero.

"Better than a cheeseburger?" My eyes sparkled with anticipation, my disappointment forgotten.

Both my parents laughed at my enthusiasm, and soon, I was giggling along with them. The car ride was filled with lighthearted teasing and laughter as we made our way to the restaurant.

We reached a traffic light and stopped, still lost in our cheerful banter. When the light turned green, my dad pressed the gas pedal, and we continued on our way.

We were halfway through the intersection when—

...

I opened my eyes—or rather, eye. My body was sprawled on the road, everything around me a blur of noise and chaos. A man appeared at my side, his face twisted with urgency. His lips moved, but the words didn't reach me.

He helped me sit up, and as my vision cleared, I noticed something strange—I couldn't open my other eye. My mind was foggy, trying to make sense of the chaos around me.

Then I saw it.

Our car laid upside down on the road, the glass shattered, and one side completely crushed.

The man lifted me and ran towards the wreckage. I felt numb, the world spinning, but his urgency made it clear—something was wrong.

When we reached the car, he set me down. I crawled toward the shattered window, peering inside.

"Mom? Dad?"

They were there, their bodies slumped, motionless. It looked like they were asleep.

"Mom, Dad, wake up," I said softly, crawling closer. My hands shook as I reached out to touch them.

"Stop acting dead," I added with a weak laugh. This was just a game, right? Like at home when we played pretend. I'd shoot them with my toy gun, and they'd collapse dramatically, only to jump up moments later, laughing and hugging me.

"Wake up," I said again, my voice breaking.

But they didn't move. They didn't laugh.

"Wake up!" I screamed, shaking them harder, my tears falling freely now.

The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was the blood pooling around their bodies. Why weren't they waking up?

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Now there was another one. Another life lost—because of me.

I always blamed my parents' deaths on myself. We went out that day because I begged them to. The thought of that weighs on me every single day. But this time, I hadn't even been given the chance to see Alain's body, to know for sure.

My stomach churned violently.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to release this crushing guilt, just like I had when I was five. Back then, I cried until I had nothing left, sobbing without restraint. But now? Nothing.

No tears fell.

Haha. I let out a bitter laugh. Why? Had I really turned into such a cold, heartless bastard?

It's not like I haven't been here before.

I remember that night with my grandmother. We were in the middle of dinner when she clutched her chest and collapsed. I didn't even think—I picked her up and ran to the hospital, my grandpa struggling to keep pace behind me.

Even in those final moments, she managed to smile at me, her voice barely a whisper.

"Take care of yourself… and take care of Grandpa."

And then, she went limp in my arms.

I grit my teeth, the ache in my chest threatening to crush me.

I had watched it happen. Over and over. The people I loved, the few who truly loved me back, all slipping away right in front of me.

First my parents. Then my grandmother.

And now, maybe Alain.

My hands clenched into fists, trembling.

After my parents' accident, I was a wreck. Therapists were a constant part of my life, their voices the only thing grounding me in those early years.

The doctors said my trauma was severe—too much for a child to bear.

But here I was again, choking on the same grief, wondering how much more I could take before it finally broke me.

This is me.

A wreck of a guy.

A depressed guy.

The guy who tries to bury it all beneath a fake personality I carefully crafted in my previous life.

That facade? It kept me alive. It helped me navigate through the chaos, the pain, the loss.

But it never lasts.

It cracks, it falters, and it falls apart almost every single time.

Honestly, these past two to three months? That's the longest it's ever held together.

I felt the warmth of their bodies.

Snapping out of my spiraling thoughts, I found my Pokémon wrapped around me.

Larvitar. Aegislash. Gabite.

All three of them, pressing close, their silent support speaking louder than any words could. They were giving me their warmth, their presence, their unshakable loyalty.

Trying to reassure me in the only way they knew how.

And I was grateful—because the dam I had built inside, the one that stubbornly refused to break, finally crumbled under the weight of their embrace.

The tears I thought I'd lost came rushing back, and I let them flow freely.

I could finally cry.

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The next day, we resumed our aimless journey, still clinging to the hope of finding a way out. Yet, with each passing moment, it felt less like we were finding help and more like we were inching closer to returning to the real world by sheer stubbornness alone.

My Pokémon walked alongside me, their Poké Balls long forgotten.

After yesterday's... moment, we hadn't exchanged much. They stayed close, their silent support ever-present, and I quietly appreciated their company. Words felt unnecessary.

The air between us was heavy, laden with unspoken emotions.

The forest around us continued to transform in unsettling ways. The trees, once towering, now seemed colossal, their roots tangling and weaving into massive cave-like structures. Each tree was easily ten times the size of the ones we'd first encountered.

A creeping thought nagged at the back of my mind: we could be walking in circles. Hours might have passed, yet the unfamiliarity of our surroundings left us disoriented. But without a clear destination, all we could do was press on.

The silence was oppressive. Only the sound of our footsteps broke through the stillness, echoing faintly against the thick canopy above. The dim, shadowy forest grew darker as the towering trees continued to blot out the sunlight.

And then, almost imperceptibly at first, a mist began to rise.

Thin tendrils of fog wove their way through the trees, curling around the roots like ghostly fingers. It thickened as we moved deeper, shrouding the forest in an eerie, muted haze.

The atmosphere shifted.

What was once simply dim and oppressive now felt like the edge of something… ominous.

And this... this reflection made me want to dig deeper into myself.

Why? I wasn't sure. Maybe it was the quiet, the isolation, or the weight of everything catching up to me. Whatever it was, it felt like now—more than ever—was the time to confront what I'd been avoiding.

I've seen death before. My parents died in front of me. My grandmother passed away in my arms. My grandfather followed not long after. Each of those losses carved deep wounds, and yes, they brought immense sorrow. But if I'm honest, the worst part wasn't their deaths.

It was my helplessness.

I couldn't do anything. I was just a spectator, forced to watch as the people I loved slipped away. That sense of powerlessness crushed me more than the grief itself. So, I made a vow—a promise to be stronger. To protect myself and anyone I'd care about in the future. I dedicated everything to that goal.

But that was my previous life.

Waking up here felt like a reset button had been pressed, like life had handed me a second chance wrapped in shiny paper. And for a while, it was intoxicating. A sugary rush of relief, gratitude, and wonder. What happens when you consume too much sugar? You get hyper. That's exactly what I was—hyperactive with the thrill of a fresh start.

I saw this world as a game.

It was fiction to me, a dream I'd grown up watching and playing. And for a time, I lived with that mindset, right up until that Absol attacked us. Reality hit hard, but I moved forward. I trained harder. Fought Team Flare grunts. Caught Aegislash. It all gave me a false sense of control.

Yet, through it all, I kept seeing flashes. Like a broken television screen, flickering images of my past life would appear in my mind. I ignored them. I told myself they didn't matter.

And I was right. Or was I? Now… I'm not so sure.

So, you want to know who I am? I'm just a guy. A vulnerable, flawed guy.

I'm no hero. The cheerful, carefree persona I wear? It's a mask. A façade I built to survive. My real goals are simple: protect myself and those I care about. As for the rest of the world? It could burn, for all I care. I don't owe it anything, and I won't sacrifice myself—or the people I love—for its sake.

I'm selfish. I don't have much to offer.

But I hide it all behind a mask of confidence, joy and arrogance. That mask has been my armor, my survival tool. And yet, here I am, smiling at my own self-reflection. Thinking about all this in the middle of nowhere.

What am I even doing? Hah, maybe I really am losing my mind with everything that's happened.

The mist was suffocating, heavy with moisture and the overwhelming scent of the forest. Each step forward felt more labored, my breaths shallow as if the air itself was refusing to cooperate. My Pokémon stuck close, their presence a silent comfort in the oppressive silence.

The trees loomed larger, their roots sprawling in chaotic patterns that twisted and knotted around each other, forming natural archways and platforms. It was beneath one of these platforms that we found him.

An old man.

He sat there, cross-legged, perfectly still. His bald head caught the faint light breaking through the canopy, and his pristine white robes seemed untouched by the dirt and grime of the forest. His smile was serene, almost too calm for someone surrounded by this eerie, suffocating environment. His eyes remained shut, as if he were lost in a world beyond our reach.

We paused, unsure of how to proceed. He was the first living being we'd encountered since arriving in this strange world. I felt compelled to approach, the curiosity outweighing my caution.

With slow, deliberate steps, I climbed the gnarled roots leading up to his platform. My Pokémon followed, their movements light but still producing soft rustles and taps against the wood. Yet, the man didn't stir. His smile never wavered.

Finally reaching the top, I stood before him, my team flanking me. We waited. And waited. Time dragged on, the silence growing heavier with every passing second.

An hour. It felt like a lifetime.

Then, without warning, his eyes opened.

A sharp inhale escaped me as I met his gaze. His pupils burned a deep, unnatural red, as if they held the essence of the forest itself. The weight of his stare pressed down on me, suffocating in a way the mist never could. My chest tightened, and every question, every demand I had bottled up since arriving in this world died on my tongue.

Finally, he spoke, his voice deep and resonant, cutting through the mist like a blade.

"Who are you, child?"

His words echoed, not just in the air, but in my very mind. They demanded more than a name—they demanded truth.

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The Cave of Reflections.

A place of legends and fears, veiled in layers of mystery. Even the Pokémon League, with all its resources and knowledge, tread cautiously around it. Why? Because we fear what we don't understand. And this cave is the epitome of the unknown.

The alert we received wasn't something you could ignore. It's not every day—or even every decade—that the Cave of Reflections registers activity. When it does, we're usually told to steer clear. Most expeditions sent inside vanish without a trace, leaving only rumors and ghost stories behind.

But here I am, riding the skies on the back of my Dragonite, the wind cutting into my skin as we race toward the cave.

I'm Juna Cruise, Commander of the Third Elite Team of the Pokémon League. My squad of seven, all seasoned operatives, flew close behind me, each riding their trusted Pokémon. The mission today? Investigate the anomaly and, hopefully, return in one piece.

The cave's exterior was... underwhelming. Crystals jutted out around the entrance and lined the visible interior, casting faint reflections of the team as we approached. At least the name Cave of Reflections wasn't for show.

We dismounted, each of us preparing our gear. I adjusted my headset and motioned my team to gather.

"Alright, team. Another day, another mission. You know the drill: we go in, assess the situation, and report back. Let's do this, For a better and peaceful world."

The phrase felt stale, like reciting lines from a script I didn't write. Still, it worked. It always did. No one signs up for this life because they love danger. We do it because someone has to. My decision to join the League felt like a distant memory now, a youthful mistake I couldn't undo.

The team nodded in unison, their determination palpable. With that, we entered the cave.

It didn't take long to see signs of chaos.

The deeper we ventured, the dimmer the crystals became. In their place were scorched walls, shattered crystal fragments, and deep craters. A battle had raged here, fierce and unforgiving. The kind of battle that made you question what kind of monsters—human or Pokémon—had clashed.

I knelt, running my gloved fingers over a particularly large crater. Dragon and Electric-type energy signatures lingered. Further down, the ground was churned and fractured, classic Ground-type moves. Nearby, long slash marks marred the cave walls, with soot-blackened scorch marks hinting at intense Fire-type attacks.

Two powerful Pokémon working together against a larger force? That's what the evidence suggested. Whoever they were, they'd won. Their enemy—enemies—hadn't stood a chance.

I sighed, already dreading the report I'd have to write. "Alright, spread out. Let's see if we can piece together what happened here."

My team fanned out, combing the area. My mind wandered briefly. What idiot would pick a fight in this cave? Out of all places?

I shook my head and moved further in.

"HEY, BOSS!"

Tom's voice echoed through the cavern, urgent.

I was at his side in seconds, the air rushing past as I skidded to a stop. I was just cool like that yeah.

Anyways why did he call me here-

Tom stood over a figure—a boy, barely conscious. His clothes were torn, his arm and chest covered in burns. His black hair was matted with sweat and grime, and he clutched a battered bag to his chest like it was the only thing tethering him to life.

A survivor.

"Damn it," I muttered, dropping to my knees beside him. I pressed two fingers to his neck. There it was—a pulse, faint but steady.

I tapped my comm. "HQ, we've got a survivor. Requesting immediate evac. Get a rescue chopper here, ASAP."

The boy groaned softly, his grip on the bag tightening even in his unconscious state. Whatever he had in there, it was important.

Who are you, kid? And what in the world were you doing here?

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Author's Note:

Yo, As promised, here's the chapter, dropping between the 15th of November.

This one dives deep into the MC's previous life, giving us a clearer picture of his true thoughts and inner personality. We've got the introduction of an OC and a bit of world-building sprinkled in.

I felt it was crucial to lay out the MC's monologue and past here because of what I've planned for the future. Trust me, all of this will connect and add significant value to the overall narrative, so bear with me. Stick around; it's gonna be worth it (i am not kidding please.)

Big thanks to NB_21 (not really you can ignore this, to be honest) for editing and beta-reading this chapter. And yeah, he really took his time—four days, to be exact. So, if you're wondering about the delay, you know who to blame (explain yourself bro)

Signing off,

SG

Editor's note:

Says the guy who completed the chapter on the 12th…

Also I know that I am not really that good of an editor but I will try to constantly improve myself.

So do continue to support us

Signing off, NB