(Yes, I wrote this to make you feel guilty. Hell, I'm guilty of it. But I felt sorry for my Ditto, Gemini, and I withdrew... him/her/WTF?

And I brought Gemini into battle. Gemini promptly fainted, having no experience; hence, the 'Artificial Levels' idea. And while I know Ditto's a crappish pokemon, it does have it's good points.

Ditto could kick Lance's ass, or any other Dragon trainer; Dragon is weak against Dragon. So train your Ditto; it could be worth it, you know.

Vita: -sobs- It was so emotional...

Me: -rolls eyes- You cried during the Bambi movie; I really don't trust your judgement.

Edaniel: And you didn't!? Sociopath.

Me: Damn straight. ...Oh, right... I don't own pokemon. My sister has a copy of Bambi, and I laugh like a maniac when Bambi's mom dies. But I'd still shoot the people who did it.

Edaniel: Told you she was a sociopath...)

Here I am again. In this cage, this constrictor, in this goddamn breeding center.

You know, I've never been out of here. I've seen the other pokemon go; he picks them up, and carries them and my egg out, without a word to me.

What did I do? I don't understand why I'm here. They say it's because I'm a Ditto, able to breed with any Egg type. Is that it? Well, why? I am a pokemon. I need to have a trainer, not someone who only owns me in name.

There he is again, dropping off his Jolteon for another Eevee egg. I suppose we'll breed, he'll be happy, and then he'll take the Jolteon to have fun battling, while I stay here.

I can't.

I want to escape.

So it gives me an idea. I will stay in the form of the Jolteon, and finally be free. So I do, for three days, before he comes back. "Oh... hey, did I leave two Jolteons here?" He asks the lady.

She sees me, and takes pity on me.

"Yes, you did."

These words that seal my fate.

"Alright, come on." He takes us with him. I am so excited to be outside, in the fresh air, breathing, fighting, being. A trainer spots us.

He challenges my master to a battle, and he nods at me.

Stunned, I cock my head. He grins, and points towards the battlefield.

"Jolteon, you're gonna fight!" I nod, and race out into battle.

The other boy sends out a large, rocklike pokemon. A Golem. I must fight it, though; I must win for my Trainer! Then I won't have to stay in the breeding center any longer!

The Golem makes rocks out of the earth. "Jolteon, use Spark!" I know no better, and use the attack. The Golem brushes it off as if it was a bit of rain, splattering on his shoulder.

He throws one of the rocks at me.

Instantly, I feel my legs buckle.

Artificial Levels do nothing.

I do not know how to fight; after all, I am a mere clone of a pokemon, something that shouldn't fight.

Something that exists to copy, but never to be a whole.

The Golem uses Low Kick, leaving me battered and bruised. My trainer has no idea what is going on.

"B-but I thought you got stronger!"

Foolish boy.

Artifical levels mean nothing.

The Golem makes more rock out of the earth, and throws them at me. As the rocks fly at me, I lazily contemplate changing back into a Ditto; just so I will live. But no, I will not.

I may be a copy, but I will die as a whole pokemon. I will be something more than a clone. The rocks slam against my needles, and I feel them crack. Hollow bones; synthetic bones.

I am a Synthetic Saint; I create others, but I am nothing myself.

I feel at peace now; I feel myself slipping away, farther and farther. The darkness attempts to claim me as a Ditto; I resist. I may have be born a copy, but I will die as a pokemon, fallen in battle. I owe the others who have been before me, as copies and breeders... I owe them this.

To die as a fighter, and something more.