Pokemon: Reborn as a Pokemon 147. Reminiscence

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Southwest of the Koron Plains, hidden among tall cypress trees, lay a body of water the locals once called Erald Lake.

At barely three thousand square ters, it wasn't vast but in the endless plains, it was the largest lake for miles.

Without human interference for centuries, its waters had beco pristine and luminous.

Countless Pokémon had gathered there, drawn by its purity, building nests along the glimring shore.

From above, the lake looked like a perfect mirror frad in green jade tranquil, flawless, and deceptively serene.

But any experienced explorer knew the rule of the wild:

The calr the surface, the darker the depths.

Splash!

Ripples broke the still water as two crimson fins pierced the surface.

They shimred under the morning sun, drinking in its warmth.

Beneath the water, a massive shadow stirred.

A Feraligatr, muscular, scaled, and scarred, slowly arched its back, letting the sunlight heat its blood.

A deep, rumbling growl of satisfaction escaped its throat.

It was the undisputed king of Erald Lake.

Powerful, ruthless, perfectly adapted to its watery throne.

But today, as it floated lazily in the shallows, sothing pricked its instincts.

The nostrils on its snout twitched.

A scent, faint but maddeningly familiar, human.

The Feraligatr's golden slit pupils snapped open, glowing with a feral red gleam.

Living prey.

Without a sound, its dorsal fins sank below the surface.

A shimr of Water-type energy cloaked its entire body, blending it into the reflections like a phantom.

It glided forward, muscles rippling beneath armored skin.

At over a hundred kiloters per hour, it was a living torpedo, racing toward the scent at the shoreline.

The predator's mind filled with anticipation.

It could already imagine the fragile skull crunching between its jaws the hot, tallic taste of blood on its tongue.

Soon.

With a violent burst, it surged upward.

BOOM!

Water exploded skyward in a spiral of glittering droplets.

The massive reptile erupted from the lake, jaws wide, teeth flashing like knives beneath the sun.

Its shadow swallowed the figure standing by the shore.

Ti seed to freeze.

And then—

Shhhhkk!

A line of silver cut through the air like a falling star.

A ripple shimred across space itself.

A heartbeat later, crimson rain fell.

The Feraligatr's eyes widened.

A black gash split cleanly down its armored torso and its body fell apart mid-air, neatly sliced in two.

The remains hit the ground with a wet thud, sending blood streaming into the grass.

A gentle breeze passed over the lake, scattering the tallic scent of death.

Golden hair shimred under the sunlight.

The man who stood there lowered his arm, the faint outline of a spectral blade fading beside him.

His expression was calm almost weary.

"...Ah."

He sighed softly. "Guess I took the wrong path again."

His azure eyes reflected the lake's still surface as he muttered to himself, exasperated.

This blond man was an operative from the Phantom Order, one of their elite hunters and, apparently, directionally hopeless.

He'd been pursuing the culprit who destroyed the Order's southern laboratory for nearly a full night...

In the wrong direction.

If he turned back now, he'd lose another day.

If he returned empty-handed, Master would kill him.

"Perfect. Just perfect," he groaned, tapping the heel of his polished black shoe against the ground.

He looked around the silent lake.

No witnesses. No answers.

"...Alright. Screw it."

Closing his eyes, he spun in a lazy circle a few tis, stopped, and pointed straight ahead.

"Fate, take the wheel. This way!"

And so, with absolutely no logic and uncanny luck He began walking in the exact direction of his target.

Sowhere unseen, the invisible threads of destiny trembled ever so slightly.

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Whiteleaf Town – Morning

Hooowwwl!

A distant howl rolled across the plains.

Kael's eyes snapped open.

Sunlight stread through the cracked window, scattering golden flecks across the white sheets.

The warmth soaked into his skin, soft and familiar.

For a brief mont, he simply lay there, dazed.

Then, mories from another life surfaced on quiet weekends after long workdays, lounging on a couch with the TV murmuring in the background, pulling a cold soda from the fridge, and savoring that sharp, carbonated bite as it fizzed down his throat, cooling him from chest to stomach.

Or the laughter of friends at a late-night barbecue stall, complaining about their jobs, talking about upcoming gas, dreaming about futures that, now, would never co.

Simple monts.

Beautiful.

Gone.

Kael chuckled faintly and shook his head.

"Yeah... nostalgia won't help now."

He threw off the blanket, stretching under the morning light.

The golden rays spilled across his fra, casting soft shadows along the floorboards.

The past deserved rembrance, but the present and the future were what truly mattered.

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