Hello, dear friends, and welcome to the show. Usually, we only talk about politics, and religious issues; but today, our subject travels into the far reaches of science fiction: alternate universes, also known as the many worlds theory. You see, whenever an idea touches something that gives it life, a universe is created by it. And although this universe may start small, additions by either the creator or other forces, causes it to expand indefinitely into eternity.

Now you may be asking: Why should we care about ideas from stuff like books, movies, and even cartoon shows? Should we honestly believe that there it a universe where talking animals do outrageous things like in Looney Toons? To that I respond, yes: Yes, we should care about these things. Who knows, maybe some rabbit will come into your room one day to offer you a trip into it's hole.

But regardless if you find yourself in another world, or if you die in this one, it's very important that you know these three things. One, Do not mention that they are imaginary, even if you created them; in their universe, you might just be a figment of their imagination. Two, watch how deep your relationships go; if someone, or something, brought you into the world to accomplish an objective, and when you have to leave, the parting will hurt much more than if you never became concerned with them. And finally, be careful; though the world you may come to might be fake, the threats are very, very real...

- Excerpt from Universal News Radio

"Sinmax! Have you gotten the dishes yet?"

Groaning from my room, I walked over to the little black box near my door, "Yes," came my gargled reply, "Now can you leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep." After that comment, I muted the thing with a wooden block I kept at my bedside. I got tired of the crap my step-father kept trying to do; family picnics and dinner talks weren't working, so why did you think that using an intercom system would work any better? While I activated my DS in the adapter, I made a note to myself to dissect that intercom.

A crackle of lightning flashed outside my window, as the well recognized tune of Pokemon filled my sleepless soul with joy. I put on some warm clothes and sat in a chair, looking outside at the heavy rain pelting the roof, hard enough to keep any sane person from a night's rest. My eyes were glued onto the recharging game system, eager to continue my adventures in Hoenn.

"And to think," I mused to myself, "This was all because of someone's bug collecting habits." The radio I've always kept on sparked to life, "...night's weather report shows that the town may experience a major blackout soon, so all plug-ins should be removed, and candles ready. Expect a long night..." The rest of the announcement was drowned out by the rain; I shrugged and continued gaming.

Unfortunately, following the next few seconds, a lightning bolt crashed straight from the roof and stuck my Nintendo DS out of my hands, sending me into the wall. Shaking the pain off, I crawled over to the sparkling game and turned it on. At first, the screen was pitch-black, then a message sparked onto the screen:

Hello, Sinmax, sorry for using this for communications, but we are short of time. We need you to press the start button after this message ends; the fate of a world depends on it. Please, you're our only hope...

Almost immediately after that, a timer appeared, giving me ten seconds to react. Panicking, I pushed the start button; the feeling of fire that came afterwards was almost unbearable, like feeling all the meat burned from the bone. After that, I heard silent lips whisper into my ear: Thank you...

A young boy with white hair looked outside at the horrible weather presented to him, the heavy downpour reflecting his mood. Suddenly, he heard heavy thuds from the door outside; shivering with fear, he walked his way to the door, the knocks growing more quiet the closer he approached. By the time he reached for the handle, the noise stopped; nervously, he opened the door, and looked down.

A teen, clearly older and taller than him, lied on the doormat to his house, his crimson hair spread all around him like an aura. With mighty difficulty, the white-haired kid picked him up and dragged him all the way to the couch in the living room. When the teenager hit the couch, the boy noticed a rather large knife hilted on his hip. Carefully, he unclipped the knife and moved it onto the dinner table.

As the downpour raged on, the white-haired kid thought about what was going to happen: seeing as tomorrow was the start of his Pokemon journey, and now a random encounter with this person has made the situation rather awkward. 'But,' he consoled with himself, 'It's useless to go around worrying about what to do with this stranger. I'll find out tomorrow morning.' The boy got up and, before he retired to bed, put a cover around the sleeping teen.

The blackout subsided, and the electricity went back online. The computer rebooted, the game systems turned on simultaneously as well. Sad music emanated from both screens, as if to mourn the loss of something dear to them. Sinmax's father opened the door to his step-son's side of the house, feeling the horrid feeling of despair. Rushing, he ran towards the boy he was never related to; Sinmax was smiling so peacefully, and was unconscious with his beloved DS in his hands.