Chapter 1: The Fracture The water was wrong. Leo had been underwater enough times to know what seawater should taste like when it rushed into your mouth during an emergency ascent. But this was bitter in a way that made his throat close up. He broke the surface and spat it out while debris from the research platform rained down around him. Something large and metallic hit the water three meters to his left, sending up a spray that soaked him again. He kicked hard to stay afloat. His left arm was wrapped around something smooth and warm that pulsed against his chest. The egg. He'd grabbed it when the first tremor hit, though he couldn't explain why. Instinct, maybe, or panic. The researchers had kept it in a temperature-controlled vault two levels down, meaning it should have been the last thing he could reach when the platform started tearing itself apart. The beach was closer than he expected. The current pushed him toward it, fortunately, because his legs were starting to cramp. He'd been treading water for what couldn't have been more than a minute, but his body didn't seem to care about the actual timeline. Everything hurt in that dull, shocked way that meant the real pain would come later. His feet touched sand. He stumbled forward until he was on his knees in the surf, then crawled a few more meters before collapsing on his side. The egg was still in his arms. He loosened his grip slightly and looked at it. The shell was darker than it had been on the platform. He was sure of that, though the vault lighting had been clinical and bright while the sun was setting here, making comparisons difficult. But the glow was definitely new. A pale blue light pulsed just beneath the surface of the shell in patterns that reminded him of a heartbeat, except faster and more erratic. Leo sat up and winced. His shoulder was going to bruise spectacularly. He set the egg down on the sand in front of him and checked his belt. Three Poké Balls, all intact, though one had a crack running through the lower hemisphere. He pressed the release on it anyway. The light formed into his Manectric, who shook herself and immediately began scanning the area. "We're okay," Leo said. His voice came out hoarse. "Platform's gone. Just us now." Manectric looked at him, then at the egg, then back at him. She made a low rumbling sound in her throat that wasn't quite a growl but wasn't friendly either. "I don't know what it is," Leo said. "It was in the vault. Dr. Reeves said they'd pulled it from a trench excavation, but she wouldn't tell me which one." He'd only been on the platform for two weeks. A temporary assignment, they'd called it, because his advisor back in Rustboro had connections with the deep-sea research team and thought it would be good experience for a Trainer who wanted to specialize in Water types. Leo had spent most of those two weeks cataloging known Pokémon specimens and running errands for researchers who barely acknowledged his existence. The egg pulsed again. The light was getting brighter, probably meaning something, but Leo didn't know what. His studies hadn't covered Pokémon eggs in any detail beyond the basics, and this didn't match any of those basics anyway. Wrong color, wrong size, wrong everything. Manectric tensed. Leo followed her gaze and saw the water churning about thirty meters offshore. "No," he said quietly. "Not now." The Gyarados surfaced with the kind of dramatic splash that would have been funny in different circumstances. It was huge, meaning it was probably old, and the scars across its blue scales suggested it had defended this territory for a while. Its eyes locked onto Leo immediately. Leo scrambled to his feet. The egg was still on the sand, still glowing, and he had maybe five seconds before the Gyarados decided whether they were worth attacking or just intimidating. He grabbed the egg and backed up several steps while Manectric moved to put herself between him and the water. "We're leaving," Leo called out. His voice didn't carry well over the sound of waves. "Not here to fight." The Gyarados tilted its head. Then it roared. The sound hit Leo like a physical force. He staggered backward and nearly dropped the egg, choosing that exact moment to pulse so violently that it burned his hands. He yelped and almost threw it, but the heat faded as quickly as it had come. Cracks were spreading across the shell. "No," Leo said. "Not now, not yet, you need to wait—" The egg exploded outward. Not metaphorically, not like a gentle emergence of a newborn Pokémon, but an actual violent rupture that sent shell fragments flying in all directions. Leo threw his arms up to protect his face. Something small and dense slammed into his chest and knocked him flat on his back. He lay there for a second, stunned, staring up at the darkening sky. Then he registered the weight on his chest and looked down. The Pipimon was the size of a small cat, though comparing it to anything familiar was difficult because its proportions were wrong for any Pokémon Leo had studied. Four legs, or maybe six, depending whether the middle appendages counted as legs or something else. The body was sleek and covered in what looked like scales, but when Leo shifted slightly, the scales seemed to shift color from deep purple to an oily black. Its eyes were too large for its head. They were completely black, no visible pupil or iris, just solid darkness that caught the fading light and threw it back in strange directions. The Pipimon stared at him. Leo stared back. Then it jumped off his chest and turned to face the ocean. The Gyarados was coming closer now, cutting through the water with its attention fixed on the beach. On them. "Manectric," Leo said. He sat up too quickly and his head spun. "Manectric, Thunder Wave, slow it down—" Manectric was already moving. Electricity crackled across her fur as she released the attack, spreading out over the water in a web of yellow light. The Gyarados roared again and dove under the surface. The Pipimon made a sound Leo had never heard before. It started as a high-pitched chirp but descended into something that vibrated in his bones. Then it charged into the water. "Wait," Leo shouted. "Stop, get back here—" The Pipimon didn't stop. It hit the water and kept going, moving with a speed that didn't match its size. Leo lost sight of it as it dove under the surface. Manectric looked at Leo. He could read the question in her posture: What do we do? Leo didn't have an answer. He was an inexperienced Trainer with minimal field experience who'd just watched an unknown Pokémon hatch and immediately throw itself at a Gyarados. His training hadn't covered this. Nothing had covered this. The water erupted again. The Gyarados surfaced with the Pipimon latched onto its neck. The larger Pokémon thrashed and tried to shake it off, but the Pipimon held on while that same bone-vibrating sound filled the air. Leo's hands were shaking. He needed to do something, but all his standard commands assumed he had a Pokémon that would listen to him and respond to instructions. The Pipimon was feral, territorial, defensive, and completely outside his ability to control. Think. He forced himself to breathe and look at the situation like a problem with variables he could manipulate. The Gyarados wanted them gone. The Pipimon was fighting it, which was insane because the size difference alone meant this should be over in seconds. But the Pipimon was still attached, still making that noise, and the Gyarados was starting to look less aggressive and more confused. Which meant the attack was doing something, even if Leo didn't understand what. The Gyarados dove again. This time it stayed under for several seconds before breaching completely out of the water. The Pipimon was still attached. When they crashed back down, the impact sent waves rolling toward the beach that soaked Leo up to his knees. He needed to shift the Gyarados's attention. Give the Pipimon an opening, or give them both a chance to disengage. Leo looked around the beach, searching for anything useful. Debris from the platform had washed up along the waterline. Mostly small pieces, broken equipment, fragments of hull plating. There. A piece of metal about the size of his forearm, twisted at one end from whatever force had torn it free. Leo grabbed it and tested the weight. Heavy enough to throw with some force, light enough that he could actually manage it. He waited until the Gyarados surfaced again. The Pipimon had moved to its back now, and the vibrating sound had intensified to the point where Leo could see the water rippling around them in response. Leo threw the metal debris as hard as he could. His aim was terrible, but he'd been aiming for general vicinity rather than precision. The metal hit the water two meters from the Gyarados's head with a loud splash. The Gyarados turned toward the sound. Just for a second, just a brief shift in attention, but it was enough. The Pipimon stopped making that vibrating noise. Instead, it opened its mouth, which was much larger than seemed physically possible, and something bright and purple erupted outward. Leo had seen plenty of Pokémon attacks in training and in the wild. He'd studied type matchups and move classifications and damage calculations. This didn't match any of that. The purple energy wasn't a beam or a projectile. It spread out like liquid smoke, wrapping around the Gyarados's head and upper body before solidifying into something looking almost crystalline. The Gyarados roared one more time, except the sound was muffled now and came out distorted. It thrashed hard enough to throw the Pipimon clear, then dove under the water and didn't resurface. The Pipimon paddled back to shore. Its movements were less coordinated now, probably meaning it was exhausted. Leo waded out to meet it, though he wasn't sure if that was a good idea or a disaster waiting to happen. When he got close, the Pipimon looked up at him with those unsettling black eyes. Then it climbed onto his outstretched hands and went completely limp. Leo carried it back to the beach. Manectric was waiting there, sniffing the Pipimon carefully before making a sound that might have been approval or might have been resignation. "Yeah," Leo said. "I don't know either." He sat down hard on the sand. The sun was almost gone now, meaning he needed to figure out shelter and water and a dozen other survival basics, but for the moment he just stared at the Pipimon in his hands. It was breathing. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of its small body. The scales were warm to the touch and still shifting colors, cycling through purples and blacks and occasionally flashing something that looked almost silver. Leo looked out at the ocean. The Gyarados hadn't come back, though that didn't mean it was gone permanently. This beach wasn't safe for camping, but he didn't have many options. The nearest settlement was probably kilometers away. He didn't have transportation or supplies or any way to call for help. And he had a Pokémon that shouldn't exist. The Pipimon stirred slightly in his hands. Its eyes opened and fixed on him again with that same intense, alien stare. Leo made a decision. Maybe not a good one, but the only one making sense in this situation where nothing made sense. "Okay," he said quietly. "We need to disappear. Both of us." He didn't know where they would go or how he would manage it. He didn't know what the Pipimon was or what that purple attack had been or why it had defended him against the Gyarados instead of just running. But he couldn't take it to a Pokémon Center. He couldn't contact the researchers who might have survived the platform collapse. He couldn't do any of the normal, expected things because this situation was so far outside normal that trying to fit it into standard procedures would only create problems he couldn't predict. The established Pokémon world had rules and systems and frameworks for understanding what existed and how it all worked together. The Pipimon didn't fit any of that, meaning Leo needed to stay outside those systems until he figured out what he was dealing with. He looked at Manectric. She was still watching the water, still alert for threats, but she glanced back at him when she noticed his attention. "Off-grid," Leo said. "Completely off-grid until we understand what this is." Manectric tilted her head slightly. Then she moved closer and sat down next to him, choosing to interpret this as agreement. The Pipimon curled up in his hands and closed its eyes again. Its breathing slowed to something that seemed more sustainable, though Leo had no idea what normal breathing should look like for a Pokémon like this. He looked down at it one more time. At the creature that had hatched violently and immediately thrown itself into a fight with something ten times its size. At the unknown species that had used an attack he couldn't classify or explain. The exhaustion was catching up with him now. His shoulder throbbed, and his legs were cramping from the ocean swim, and his hands hurt where the egg had burned him before hatching. But he had resolved something, at least. He had a direction, even if that direction was away from everything he'd been taught to rely on. Leo stood up carefully, making sure not to jostle the Pipimon too much. He needed to find shelter before full darkness set in. He needed to assess his supplies and figure out how long he could survive without making contact with civilization. He needed to keep this secret, because he had no idea what would happen if the wrong people found out about it. The Pipimon slept in his hands. Manectric walked beside him as he moved away from the beach toward the treeline. And behind them, the ocean was dark and quiet, hiding whatever remained of the research platform that had brought them all to this point.