Early chapter today :D
| Rio POV |
So Treecko wasn't the quest target. Just the warning sign. A breadcrumb.
Great.
I stare down at the glowing trail, specks of black I can barely see even even when I'm focusing on them — like veins of cursed static burned into the dirt, fading westward out of the tunnel, deeper into the wilderness. I don't know what's at the end of it yet, but I can feel it — that same warped pressure, like a volcano humming beneath its crust. It's dimmer than before, faint, like whatever it is can barely hang on. But it's moving. Slowly.
"Guess you're the real stray," I mutter, tapping the ground once before standing up again. "And you've been bleeding your black goop the whole way. Talk about being a gooner...."
Null crashes through the tunnel behind me a moment later, dust and echo clinging to his armored steps. Ralts clings to his back, her hair windswept and her expression cranked to 'worried little sister.' The moment she spots me, she hops down with a flicker of psychic light and rushes over.
"Rio! You okay?"
"Define okay." I stretch my arms and crack my neck, trying to look less like I'm about to pass out. "Found the real problem. It wasn't Treecko. Something else did this to her — and it's still out there."
Ralts tugs at my paw, eyes wide. "You're going after it?"
"Of course. That thing's leaking this x-stuff all over the place like a busted soda can. Nurse Joy already said there were other cases of this… black plague or whatever. Gotta find the source."
Null lets out a low chuff, shaking dust from his plating. He doesn't need words. The way his eyes narrow says it all: We're with you.
"Alright, alright, stop being sentimental," I mutter, reaching up to pat his armored head. "Go back to May. I can handle things here."
Ralts opens her mouth, clearly about to argue, but I cut her off by gently resting a paw on her hair. I let a controlled pulse of aura flow through my fingers — not much, just enough to brush away the violet static clinging to her like a bad memory. It hisses faintly as it dissolves, like mist hitting hot metal.
"It's not safe," I say more quietly. "The stuff here… it's not just sticking to the ground anymore. It's trying to spread. If it got into Treecko just by proximity, I don't want to risk you two."
"But—" Ralts starts, then winces as she feels the last of the static slip off her.
"Star," I whisper, meeting her eyes. "Please."
She hesitates — then slowly nods, gaze falling.
Null lowers his head again, thumping it gently against my shoulder before turning around.
"Tell May I'll be back soon," I call out as they retreat. "And if I'm not... give her the good news after breakfast."
No response, just a soft, worried growl from Null and the distant shuffle of Ralts climbing back on.
The tunnel falls quiet again — just me, the low flicker of cursed energy, and that faint, pulsing trail burned into the dirt ahead. A ghost of something broken, still moving, still wrong.
"...Man, this was supposed to be a fun Pokémon adventure. Who added the horror tag?"
I sigh, shoulders slumping as I start forward, cursed light casting long shadows behind me. The cave's chill gives way to forest air, but it isn't comforting — the deeper I go, the quieter it gets.
No birdsong. No rustling.
Just that trail, winding deeper into the trees like a fuse leading to something waiting to explode.
Even the wild Pokémon know to stay away.
A tumour beacon. That's what it feels like.
And I'm walking straight toward it.
"…Please don't be some Resident Evil crap. Please don't be some Resident Evil crap…"
I pause. Glance at the shadow-drenched path ahead.
"…Or, at least let it be Lady D…"
No answer. Just the wind shifting through the trees like it's judging me.
Ralts would definitely give me that disapproving little sister stare. Null would probably agree. Loudly.
I press forward, cursed energy flickering low around my paws, each step dragging me closer to something that feels… wrong. The kind of wrong that doesn't belong in this world — the kind that makes my instincts scream to turn back. My aura pulses, thinner now, distorted by the ambient pressure in the air.
And then I see it.
There, hunched in the middle of the clearing, is a creature that shouldn't exist — or at least not here.
Slick crimson scales catch the moonlight, its claws twitching against the cracked ground like it's dreaming of setting something on fire. Jagged black markings pulse faintly across its sides, almost like veins, and its ring — that ring — pulses with a steady, violet glow.
"Okay," I mutter, crouching behind a branch. "That is a Digimon, you cannot convince me otherwise. Or at least a cross between Agumon and Charmeleon... With anger issues, and toxic relationships as a DLC."
Its breathing is ragged. Shaky. Like it's hanging on by threads. But those claws… that tail… that ring?
Just looking at that ring makes my eyeballs want to fall out and crawl back to town without me. It's not just glowing — it's vibrating. Warping the air around it like a microwave set to eldritch.
The cursed energy radiating off it makes my fur itch.
"Yup," I whisper to myself. "Definitely the source. Ten outta ten cursed. Would not recommend."
Trishout twitches, like it heard that. Its head lifts just a little. Sharp eyes — yellow, slitted, aware — lock right onto mine.
I freeze.
We stare at each other in dead silence. Just me, a glorified martial arts jackal, and what looks like a feral interdimensional fire hazard with post-traumatic lava disorder.
It doesn't snarl. Doesn't growl. Just… watches. Chest rising and falling like it doesn't know whether to lunge or collapse.
I slowly raise both paws. "Hey there, buddy. Not here to fight. Just… y'know. Vaguely considering rescuing you from your own bad decisions."
It blinks once.
The ring flares.
My ears go flat. "Oh good. That's probably fine."
I watch silently as the once cute looking lizard undergoes an entire 20 episode dragon ball screaming transformation, now hunched and on all fours, scales taking on a deep purple hue, as some red markings light up on its chest and sides, Its seems to have grown five chimneys on it's back, guess Santa won't be forgetting this house...
Its body cracks with each shift, like someone's remixing a Charizard with a microwave and bad vibes. The air goes heavy. Even the trees look like they're trying to lean away from this abomination.
"Okay, definitely not a Digimon anymore," I whisper, inching back. "This is a minus-sized kaiju. This is an event."
The ground under its claws blackens with each step, and those chimneys on its back? Yeah. They're starting to smoke.
"Oh come on, what is this form? Trying to out aura farm me? Everybody knows the drip is where Sukuma is at!" My fur takes on that pink and black glow once more, promising to KitKat somebody.
It lets out this low, guttural snarl — like a volcano yawning — it seemed more pissed off and warry than confused, but I can definitely see the gears slowly turning in its head...
That ring on its arm? Still glowing like someone shoved a UV flashlight inside it. The pulse syncs with its breathing, with the cracks of leaking X-Energy from its skin, and with the sudden pounding in my ears.
"...Yeah. That thing's the quest."
I take one shaky breath and mutter to myself.
"Don't kill it. Don't die. And try to look cool. Yeah... Should be easy."
The chimneys erupt in a sudden blast of flame and violet energy.
"Right... Red equals fire. So much for easy. Could I get Well backed body as a reward or something?"
Word Count: 1319
You got a quest, found a Digimon, pissed it off, and now it's a flaming kaiju with a ring that wants to explode.
MC: And how was I supposed to know the ring wasn't just jewellery?
It's literally glowing, it's literally screaming 'Look at me, I'm evil!', and didn't you call it a tumour beacon?
MC: I call a lot of things that. Have you seen Combusken's eating habits?