The distance between Golurk and the two retreating figures through the dark and obscure forest continued to grow and grow. Eventually, even though both of them felt the rumbles of footsteps, they had managed to make enough of a distance away from it.

For a while, they ran over fields and forest attempting to find somewhere good to hide. Eventually, they settled upon some kind of burrowed out tunnel in a cliffside that was only just a bit taller than Sanvu’s height, at sitting height, which wasn’t much of an issue with his piddly legs. They heard nothing; it was only the rustling of nature all around them, and nothing sounded from further in.

“It won’t get us here,” Pachuku pointed out, as he crawled in. “It’s not ideal, we’ll probably have to get moving when it’s light out, find a town or something, but it’ll do for now…” he sighed as he sat himself against the inner wall, Sanvu moving in silently, both looking outside towards the sky.

It was a couple of minutes before Pachuku spoke up again. “S-So, um… if… if the world we were in before was a simulation… how’re we still here? I mean, it’s great, that, l-like, we didn’t… like, disappear, but… like… wouldn’t that mean we’re still… in some kinda simulation? It’s… hard for me to wrap my head around it, if w-we’re, like… truly safe.”

Sanvu sighed before responding. “I don’t know, for sure, there’s really nothing I can be certain of, but, one thing I can be certain of is that right now, I’m breathing, so if we are… dead, then… it doesn’t exactly feel like it, doesn’t it?”

Pachuku put his paw to his chin, as if thinking about something. “There’s also something else to consider too; Nuzzle shouldn’t have worked, if we were still in that world. Ground-types weren’t responding to Electric moves for some reason, but it was paralysed several times while I was trying to get out,” he mentioned, gesturing towards Sanvu with that same paw. “So maybe you’re onto something; that never worked in that world, but it was chipping away, so that’s one difference. Either this one’s better, or maybe we’re somewhere else.”

His ears also pricked for a second before continuing. “Oh yeah, you learned Leaf Storm. Did you experience any of that… paralysis-like stuff?”

Sanvu shook his head as Pachuku continued. “Yeah, okay! So, like, I’m not saying a different word for no reason, Leaf Tornado and Leaf Storm are two different moves. Leaf Tornado’s what you’ve always used up to this point, but Leaf Storm is when you make leaves with more power and more ‘focused’ wind, I think? Leaf Storm is more draining than Leaf Tornado, and that’s probably why you were more exhausted after using two of them at once, so, there’s a real difference, but, uh, congrats, and, uh, that’s great, that you didn’t really feel anything!” His compliments only received a small smirk in response, as it promptly faded as he heaved; the sigh becoming more vocal the more Sanvu tried to think of how to word his particular thoughts.

“I… didn’t feel that, but… I did just have the biggest headache I can remember having in a while, but I don’t think it was because of the new move, or anything. Leaf Tornado, what I thought it was, is easier to use now, there’s less… resistance? I can’t tell if it’s from practice or something, but that doesn’t matter…

I’ve… been wrong about a number of things. I felt wrong, and the whole thing with the simulation and what I thought it was is only really beginning to scratch the surface of how wrong I feel.”

“Why? What would you be wrong about?” Pachuku tilted his head in confusion.

“Because…” he trailed off, hardly able to word it himself, “I remember it all now, everything I was, both in that world, and before. I know some of the things I said were wrong, because I can’t entirely be sure I was totally right with us still able to talk now.”

Pachuku’s eyes glowed, mouth agape. He would be jumping if it weren’t for the low ceiling that threatened to smack him senseless if he bumped into it, “You remember everything?! You got your memories back?! Who were you, then?!”

Sanvu sighed, a small laugh escaping his throat as he spelled it out. “My name is Sanvu Viccelston, I’m 17 years old, I came from a family in a place called Abistula, and I had a mum, dad and… Smila, besides myself, to make it brief.” He smiled, sighing softly.

“Who’s… Smila?” Pachuku asked, taking it all in, his features clearly focused even in the dim light of the moon that begun to shine through the tunnel.

“My sister… I’d call her Smee, for short,” he smirked to the squirrel, who continued to listen intently. “But… they’re all… wherever home is, and I’m stuck here… still a Pokemon, so, that’s the way it has to be. I know for a fact though that this… it feels right, every last bit of it.”

“Well… that’s great! Obviously not the… fact that you’re all… still here but that you can remember them, that’s fantastic! Amazing, even!” Pachuku praised; his tail swishing as he took the information in. “Do you… remember how you got here? To… like, be a Snivy?”

“No, that’s about the only thing I don’t remember,” Sanvu mused with a hint of sadness. “I could tell you literally anything from my old life… the people I met… the places I went… but how I got here? I don’t remember that. Which either means I died, which… is terrifying to think about, or I was kidnapped or something. The last thing I recall was just a night at the computer, before I woke up to you and this,” he moved his arm so that he was touching his body; insinuating his transformation. “But… that’s it. In every other way… this is the real me, now.

The way I acted in that world… whether we’re still in it or not… that wasn’t me. There are some things I said and things I did… that I wouldn’t nearly do the same way were I able to think like this,” Sanvu asserted, Pachuku tilting his head silently intently listening, even if he didn’t quite understand everything Sanvu meant.

“So, what were you wrong about? Did you… like… know of Pokemon prior to being one?” Pachuku guessed, to which Sanvu shook his head.

“No, never knew of anything like that. Only time I learned about Pokemon was when I woke up, and you told me I was one. Didn’t know of anything like that as a human.”

“Oh, huh. So, then, what were you, um, wrong about? It’s hard to wrap my head around; you hardly sound any different from before.”

“A lot of little things, but most certainly,” Sanvu trailed off as the moon began to come into the view of the tunnel entrance as its white blasted the darkness away with its beam. “…about the sky.”

Pachuku’s brows furrowed.

“You remember when I told you the moon is the same on our world as it is here? I said that about the stars too… but at the time I couldn’t quite articulate what I meant, because I didn’t remember anything.

Pachuku, we didn’t have stars on our world that looked anything like those you see now,” he stated, the stars in question shimmering brighter, as if to juxtapose his point.

“W-what?! Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

---

*Music: Pokémon Sword & Shield – Freezington

“When I was a kid, like, a little baby infant, the stars in the sky just… vanished. Each one blipped out like it was no longer visible.

You’d know that they were a thing, because books, movies and photos and the like would show that stars existed, and a record of their existence was kept, but if you ever tried looking at the sky, you wouldn’t see anything.

Nothing would be visible. I mean, you’d see the sun, and the moon, but never stars. Not once.”

“Y-You know, there’s this thing where the moon’s so bright it blocks out the light of some of the stars? You sure it wasn’t just… that?”

“Light pollution, yeah, I’m surprised you know about that, given you wouldn’t have quite the large cities we had back home…

But no, it wasn’t just mere light pollution. Even if you went out to the middle of nowhere, even if the moon wasn’t particularly visible that night, you wouldn’t see a single one.

My home country, Abistula, was sort of named because of them, you see. The name means something like ‘beginning of the stars’ or something like that. So, like, to all the adults, it held some kind of importance, horoscopes and like would be made, but it was just something the older ones cared about, kids like me wouldn’t think two ways about it, but it was important to them, cause they grew up seeing them, and then suddenly… they just disappeared.”

“O-Oh…”

“Shortly after they disappeared though, that’s when a group was formed, called Return of the Stars.”

“Oh! You mean that thing we found with those words on it! You’re saying you-“

“Yeah.” He grunted in response, clearing his throat so then he could continue explaining. “Yeah that… definitely was it, but, given that world might’ve been made out of my memories, it could’ve just been to taunt me, just cause of how… important it was to me, for all the wrong reasons.”

This elicited another head tilt from Pachuku as the human continued. “Like I told you, the stars vanished when I was but barely a child, like maybe 3-4 years old, so I don’t remember seeing a sky with stars that wasn’t some recorded depiction, nothing unlike this,” he stared out at the twinkling dots that desired his eyes to gaze upon them. “I was too young, so I don’t remember a time when they were real and not just… mystical fairytale, even though I was alive when they went out.”

“So Return of the Stars was some sort of program that formed shortly after they did, and their goal was, well, supposedly, to bring them back, hence, ‘return’ of the stars, that was the whole idea, the whole point behind their forming, and so, they made themselves known.

Everywhere… books, TV, movies and stuff, they even made more than one program at school that was in collaboration, wherever you looked, you’d see them, and they just became part of life at home. Everyone loved them; everyone adored them for stepping up to try to do it… everyone… except for me.” Sanvu sighed, head hanging low as he leaned against the wall.

“Why? Didn’t you want the stars back?”

He gave Pachuku something of a directed gaze before continuing. “Of course, there wasn’t anyone I knew who didn’t want them back, but that’s not why I didn’t like Return of the Stars.

I don’t know when I first realised it… it’s so long ago I hardly remember… but there was one particular advertisement, or maybe it had been built up all along, I don’t know, but… something about them just seemed… fake… unreal, like they weren’t truly in it for their stated purpose.

Whenever they’d show themselves on an advert, or whenever they talked about their goal… it was always in relation to the company… the stars were only ever mentioned whenever it related to some vague, non-descript method of how they were supposedly going to bring them back. It was all about them; it was never about what they were supposed to do.

But everyone was desperate, so literally everyone I knew believed in them. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who saw something fishy with them, but they weren’t in my actual circles. Everyone I physically knew, even my own family, just ate everything they said up, with not a word that wasn’t taken at face-value for what it was meant to be. It’s what… isolated me from everyone, because they couldn’t even respect that I just couldn’t believe in them, no matter what it took.”

A moment of silence was shared between the two before Sanvu resumed.

“It’s not as if we hated each other or anything, I still… love them, care about them. It’s still… what makes me so… upset, even now,” he managed to stammer out, some stray droplets finding their way out of his eyes. “I miss them, but even so, I was alone in my belief that Return of the Stars might not actually genuinely bring them back. As far as I can recall, they still hadn’t, even with the last couple nights I remember of home, which were just me on the computer, they still hadn’t. Sure, we weren’t technological marvels, but… it wasn’t like there weren’t people who knew what happened, and they supposedly thrived themselves on knowing the most.” Sanvu shuddered, letting it all fizzle out. “It was, like, 15 years or so, that they were gone, and they were around for almost that entire time, so if they knew something, they certainly didn’t do a good job showing it.

It was… a couple of months before my 17^th birthday… my grandfather gave me a gift. It was early… which was strange; we’re not particularly far apart that it’s hard to see one another or anything, but that’s when he gave me it; part of Return of the Stars. See, their schtick was that if you added yourself to Return of the Stars, as they constantly promoted, by funding them or by signing up to a school program or whatever, you’d get ‘credit’ for bringing the stars back when they ‘succeeded’ you hear?”

Pachuku nodded slowly, half-understanding, but still listening nonetheless.

“So, my grandfather, he didn’t think he was going to be old enough to see when they came back. So he gave me and Smee… he gave both of us passes to Return of the Stars instead of himself, so that we’d be old enough by the time they ‘came back’ for the benefits to actually matter to us, hence his idea of the gift. Thing is… I wasn’t a mute on this; I made it very clear to all of them that I wanted nothing to do with Return of the Stars; that they could sign themselves up if they wanted, but I didn’t want anything to do with it. I didn’t know what they wanted or what they were going to do, but whether they did bring them back or not, I wanted nothing to do with it. Yet they just… gave it to me anyway.”

He looked at Pachuku with his brows creased in anger. “I don’t know what it was doing in that world… if that world was made to taunt me or something, because anyone who’d look at my history would be able to know at a glance that I hated Return of the Stars, so it’s an easy connection to make to my past, because it was the thing that gave me strife back home; the thing that would divide me from everyone I knew. I would have friends, I would have family, but it would never feel genuine because they all believed in something I could never compromise on no matter how hard they shoved it in my face.”

Pachuku hung his head as he nodded slowly.

“Everything in that world feels like it was tailor-made for me, from the superficial Pokemon, to Mindscape in general being almost exactly like school… so I wouldn’t be surprised if the slip being there was just another part of that. But there’s something else, too.

I’m stuck here, away from them, stuck in this body. I’m sorry, I know you wanted to help out with this whole Amnesiac problem, and let me tell you, after not knowing any of all of this for as long as I did, it utterly confounds me how I thought that way. I hate every moment of it, and I wouldn’t wish the same on even my worst enemy. If I hadn’t exhausted myself mourning them before, I’d still be grieving even now.

But if there’s a way out of here… I want to find it. I don’t care whether it’s possible or even if we can’t find any, but I don’t want to stop until I find a way back there. I don’t… I don’t want to be stuck unable to remember how I got here, with only these memories on me until I fall to nothing.

I’m… sorry if you don’t agree… but-“

“No, I’m perfectly fine with it!” Pachuku interrupted, forcing Sanvu to silence. “Okay, so, like, I don’t know how we got here. So, like, I can’t help you this instant because I don’t know how we got here, let alone how you got here, you get me?”

Sanvu nodded, Pachuku continuing. “You’re right that I cared about the Amnesiacs before, but… well… that was then, in that world, before I met you. It doesn’t matter now. You sound… basically no different than before to me. Okay… a little more emotional… cause of the whole bringing back your memories thing, that’s bound to hurt, and I mean, it would, it does, right?”

Another nod, Pachuku resuming. “But… that doesn’t change the fact that you’re my friend. It sounds to me like you believe what you’re saying about all this stuff, so, I don’t really see a reason not to believe you, personally, cause it sounds like you’ve lived it, and all that stuff. But regardless of all that or not, you’re my friend, and if that’s what you want, then I’ll help, even if it’s just me tagging along to help you learn about this place a little better, and even if we don’t find anything at all, well, where else would I want to be?

I’ll stick with you, no matter what. So you’d better get used to it, huh?” Pachuku asserted before a small giggle escaped his throat.

Sanvu gave him the warmest smile he could muster in that night light, only half visible in the dim light of the night. “…Thank you,” was all he could eke out.

~~

---

A couple of minutes later, both of them were significantly more tired as they began to grow sleepy, Pachuku was leaning against his wall upright, while Sanvu was lying flat on his belly, propping himself up by his short arms. Pachuku decided to make note of the plans both of them had decided on, summing them up.

“So basically, we find civilisation, and then we should probably ask about any simulations or any ways to the human world that they know of. That right?”

“…Basically,” Sanvu would whisper.

“Yeah! Alright! We got a plan!” he cheered, before promptly lowering his voice as he leaned against his side of the wall. “So, um… about that whole… Return of the Stars thing…”

Sanvu’s eyes attentively peered onto him as he continued. “Do you think… that maybe… and this is just a guess, but… do you think they brought you here?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Well, like you said, your world didn’t have stars. So if they were supposed to ‘bring back’ the stars, wouldn’t bringing you here somehow accomplish that? There’re stars here, I’ve never heard of them vanishing or anything, but then I don’t know anything about the world you came from, so… I guess that’d be ‘a’ way? For them to achieve their ‘goal’? Only if I’m right, of course.”

Sanvu’s reply was something of a small snicker before he continued. “That’s a cynical way of looking at it if I’ve ever seen it,” he joked. “But no… I don’t quite think so.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe in them at all. Their goal though was to bring back our stars, the ones that disappeared at home. They seemed more… incompetent, prideful… rather than what you suggest as something more cunning.

Reminder as I told you… they had 15 years roughly to bring them back from the moment they vanished while I was a child. In that time, they spent it just promoting themselves, basically. The thing is; they had majority support, there wasn’t a soul I knew personally who believed there was anything up with them like I did.

So if they couldn’t bring them back for almost literally my entire lifetime… what makes you think they would know how to turn me specifically into a lizard and send me here, without my memories at first? I’m being generous with this, because I hate them enough to want to think them stupid, but even that’s unrealistic.”

“I mean, still, if you’re saying they seemed incompetent, they could’ve done it.”

“There’s something else to think about too, though that puts a thorn in that theory.

Like I said, everyone I knew willingly believed them. They’d even go so much as to bother me for choosing not to, despite that I never once implied that they weren’t allowed to believe in them. So everyone willingly signed themselves up, as far as I recall, their most recent and biggest endeavour was getting all the kids at my school in my school grade, who were almost adults, to join up and be part of a really big program related to Return of the Stars. I don’t know of too many people who didn’t sign up for that whole thing, it really was only a few of them who didn’t. Smila also… she received her part at the same time I did, cause Grandpa didn’t think he was going to be around for either of our birthdays, and hers was several more months in advance than my gift was, and we received ours at the same time.

If Return of the Stars was responsible for sending me here… where’s everyone else? Surely I’m not the only one, but you hardly had heard of any other humans that had come from where I had, or who had nearly as many busted memories?”

“No, I only remember the ones who saved the world, huh, nothing in relation to your world. Still, it could be a thought to consider; maybe we can just put it away for now, and come back later, huh?” Pachuku figured, his eyelids drooping. The call of sleep wouldn’t be far now.

“…Sure, I guess.” Sanvu conceded, the fatigue evident in his smirk in its lack of prominence. “I’ve never roughed it before quite like this either… It’ll probably be impossible to sleep like this, heh heh.”

At that, Pachuku laid flat on his own belly, scooting closer to the Grass-type, curling his tail around Sanvu awkwardly as both of them laid flat, watching the night as it went along.

“I… I know it isn’t much but… I hope it’s satisfactory enough… so we can be the best possible team, huh? I’ll… try not to shock you but… no promises. I’ll shake you out of it though if I have to.”

Sanvu smiled, grunting in agreement. “…Yeah. Alright.”

“If it’ll help you sleep… tell me more about… you, basically, home, anything. I’ll listen.”

That was how they spent the rest of their waking hours, with Sanvu explaining many aspects of his homeworld to the eager squirrel who blissfully listened, eventually resulting in the two of them dozing off enough that they collapsed into one big heap as they timeskipped the rest of the night.

 

*Music: Pokémon Sword & Shield – Crown Shrine

The morning made itself known with a vengeance, the sun piercing their eyelids. The dirt did not feel particularly comfortable, their bodies ached a little, but they had slept nonetheless, and neither of them had experienced anything odd otherwise.

“Oh, man, I’m hungry,” Pachuku groaned, his stomach rumbling in response as Sanvu got up silently humming in agreement, noting internally that he wasn’t shocked at all, though he felt a bit tingly from Pachuku’s fuzzy fur a little as he rose, shaking it off.

So that particular day, they set themselves out to find civilisation, the first step on the road to fulfilling their new goals.

~~