Chapter 5

After resting and drinking some water, Arcane checked his status and noticed a new section labeled "EXTRA MOVES." Underneath this section was the move Pin Missile, which the Ferroseed had used against him. It seemed that during his battle, he had activated his Mirage Sight and taken the Ferroseed's move as his own. Excited to test it out, Arcane tried to stand on his legs but found them weak and unable to lift him up.

Soon, his stomach rumbled from hunger. It seemed his new body consumed a large amount of stamina when fighting. Even though Arcane had just eaten some berries, he now felt starved. Unable to move and with nothing close by to eat, Arcane stared at the body of the deceased Ferroseed. His instincts told him to eat it.

Arcane shook his head and tried to refuse it, but soon the primal urge overpowered him. Dragging his body over, he began to feast. It was a gruesome act, one that made his human consciousness recoil in horror, but his Pokémon instincts knew it was necessary for survival. The iron-rich taste of the Ferroseed's body was strange, a far cry from the sweetness of berries, but it provided the sustenance he desperately needed.

As Arcane tore into the Ferroseed, memories of the boy's life flashed through his mind again. The juxtaposition of the mundane human world with the savage reality he now faced was jarring. The boy had never known such violence or desperation, his life filled with the innocent joy of Pokémon games and adventures. Yet, here he was, a creature of the wild, fighting for every scrap of survival in a world that demanded brutality.

The Ferroseed's tough exterior gave way to softer, more edible parts. Arcane's sharp teeth and strong jaws worked efficiently, breaking down the meal. Each bite brought a surge of energy, and he could feel his strength returning with every swallow. His wounds began to knit themselves together, his body drawing on the rich nutrients of the Ferroseed to heal.

As he feasted, Arcane's mind settled into a strange equilibrium. The memories of the boy's life provided a comforting backdrop, a reminder of a world where battles were fought for glory and camaraderie, not for survival. But he knew he could not afford to dwell on the past. His current reality was harsh and unforgiving, and he needed to embrace his instincts to survive.

Once he had eaten his fill, Arcane felt a renewed sense of vitality. The pain from his injuries had lessened, and his energy levels were replenished. He knew he couldn't stay here for long, though. The scent of blood and the remains of the Ferroseed would attract other predators.

With a final look at the stream, he decided to move on, seeking a safer place to rest and recover fully. The forest was vast, and he needed to find a secure spot where he could regain his strength and plan his next steps.

Arcane moved cautiously through the dense foliage, alert for any signs of danger. His heightened senses picked up on the faint rustling of leaves and the distant calls of other Pokémon. Every shadow seemed to hide potential threats, but he pressed on, driven by the need to survive and unravel the mysteries of his existence.

After some time, he found a secluded grove, partially hidden by thick underbrush and large boulders. It seemed like a safe place to rest, away from the main paths that other Pokémon might frequent. He settled down on a bed of moss, the softness of it providing some comfort to his battered body.

As he lay there, Arcane's thoughts drifted back to the boy whose memories he now shared. He wondered about the connection between his past life and his current form. The answers were elusive, but he was determined to uncover them. For now, though, he needed to focus on recovery and survival.

The forest around him began to quiet as night fell, the gentle chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl providing a soothing lullaby. As Arcane settled into the softness of the mossy grove, exhaustion quickly pulled him into a deep slumber. His mind drifted back to the memories of his previous life, immersing him in a vivid dreamscape that felt both comforting and distant.

Arcane found himself back in his childhood bedroom, the walls adorned with familiar Pokémon posters and shelves lined with assorted plushies. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. He could hear the faint sounds of laughter and excitement from outside, reminiscent of carefree days spent with friends trading cards and discussing battle strategies.

He remembered the countless hours spent training his virtual team, the thrill of overcoming tough gym leaders, and the camaraderie formed within his small circle of fellow enthusiasts. There were memories of attending midnight releases for new game editions, the shared anticipation palpable among the gathered fans. He recalled the joy of unboxing rare trading cards and the friendly rivalries that pushed him to improve his skills.

One memory stood out vividly: participating in a local Pokémon tournament. The atmosphere had been electric, with participants of all ages showcasing their meticulously trained teams. Arcane had advanced through several rounds, his strategic prowess and deep understanding of the game evident. Though he hadn't won the tournament, the experience had been exhilarating, fueling his passion even further.

As the dream unfolded, Arcane felt a profound sense of nostalgia and longing. These memories were a stark contrast to his current reality, a reminder of a simpler time when challenges were virtual and victories were celebrated with friends.

A faint, unfamiliar chatter began to seep into his dream, pulling him gradually back to consciousness. The voices grew clearer, and Arcane's senses slowly awakened to the present.

"...I've never seen anything like it before," a curious voice whispered.

"Yeah, it's fur is so pale and wispy. Do you think it's friendly?" another voice responded, tinged with excitement.

Groggily, Arcane opened his eyes, blinking against the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. His gaze focused on two small figures cautiously approaching him: an Eevee with bright, inquisitive eyes and a Skitty whose tail twitched with barely contained curiosity.

They stood a short distance away, whispering among themselves as they studied him intently.

"Maybe it's from a faraway place," the Eevee mused, taking a tentative step closer.

"Or maybe it's some kind of rare Pokémon! Imagine the stories we could tell the others!" the Skitty added, her whiskers quivering with excitement.

As they edged nearer, a sudden, authoritative voice pierced the air.

"Stay back, both of you!"