Augh! I said that I'd start this when I was almost done with Frozen Time, but I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE WAITING! To be perfectly honest...I've never been a patient person.

Waaay before its intended time, here we go. Anima's story, revealed! Woo-hoo! (you people all know that I don't update on a regular basis, so hang in there, please! I'm working on three out of my four fics (four counting this one), and I only get my computer for an hour or so every night, so be patient. Or at least...more patient than I am...)

Also, I've fallen in love with first-person, present tense, but I'm not too good at it. Go easy, please!


I wake up to silence. The same I face every morning. Wait...can I even say that now? In a frozen world with nothing moving, am I allowed to say that "morning" has come?

My name is Anima, and I am eight years old. At least, that's what the rest of the humans say. We've found a way to keep track of how time would be moving, somehow. But they say that I am wise beyond my years. I believe them when they say that; high intelligence tells people that you might actually have a chance of surviving into your gray-haired years.

"Anima, darling, are you awake?" A woman's voice calls out from downstairs.

"Yes, Mom. I'm up," I reply in my childish voice. I hear a sigh, followed by the voice of my father's tenor voice murmuring what I can guess is comforting words.

"Come down here, honey. We have to tell you something," I creep cautiously down the stairs, unsure whether or not I actually want to hear what they're going to tell me. I know that it's news that they don't want to tell me, but if they don't think that I can handle it, they won't be telling me it...right?

"How did you sleep, Anima?" My mother asks, her frizzy red hair tangled up in a snarl of rollers. Her weary brown eyes are tired and pained, and I know immediately that I am not going to like what she is about to say at all. My father is in no better shape; his chocolate-brown hair hasn't been combed yet, and he hasn't shaved, either. His eyes, a soft, tender hazel, stare sympathetically at me. I'm still hung up on the question lingering unanswered in the air; it's the question she always asks me before she tells me something bad has happened.

"What happened this time?" I ask with more seriousness than an eight-year-old should even be hearing, yet alone using.

"Anima, this doesn't concern the Underground," She says, but I can tell that she's heard something horrible has happened there again. "It's about...well, us, Anima," My attention has officially been acquired by her. Anything concerning my family, anything bad at all, can always get me to turn around and pay attention.

"What about us?" I ask quietly.

"Something that we should have told you a while ago, Anima," My father cuts in. My eyes widen; he has interrupted my mother. Things must be bad if he has forgotten his private code of chivalry.

"What is it? Please, just tell me," I whisper.

"Anima...you should know...we're not your parents." The words cut into me with an amount of pain that I cannot even describe. A knife has torn into my heart, and every breath I take is a painful one.

"Wh-wh...what?" I ask, thinking that maybe, just maybe, I misheard.

"Anima." I'm getting tired of how they're starting every sentence with my name, but the initial shock of being adopted still hasn't worn off.

"What?" I ask, barely audible.

"Anima," They say, a little louder.

"WHAT?" I scream in a sudden burst of emotion. "If you're not my real parents, then WHERE ARE THEY?"

"W-we don't know..." My mother stammers, on the verge of tears. Oh, please, mother. Not the tears. You know that makes me upset, too...

"But that's not all. Your mother and I..." My father says.

"DON'T SAY THAT!" I scream at him, louder than I've ever screamed before. "If you're not my parents, DON'T SAY THAT!" I take several deep, shuddering breaths before I can speak again. "This...this doesn't make sense..."

"I know, Anima, but things are about to get worse. You need to get out of here. Now,"

"Why? You don't...want me?" The words hurt. Deeply.

"No, sweetie, you know that's not it," My mother says, sweeping me into an embrace. I remain in her arms while she begins to cry. "But we're in a considerable amount of trouble right now. Trouble that you can avoid,"

"What kind of trouble?" I ask, although we all know that there's only one kind of trouble here dangerous enough to get them this upset.

"Treason trouble," My father admits. "Dusknoir and the Sableye will be here any minute. You have to hurry and get out of here. Before they take you, too,"

"But they'll see my things!" I object, with more strategic thoughts than an eight-year-old should be capable of. "They'll see them and know I was here,"

"Anima, did you really think we wouldn't be prepared for this? We can make any trace of you disappear forever," Her tone is supposed to be comforting, but her words send chills through my newly-wounded heart. We can make any trace of you disappear forever...They had an unpleasant secondary meaning that I didn't want to think about too much.

A loud bang at the door silences any racing thoughts any of us had.

"Open up!" The Sableye call in their raspy voices. "We know you're in there!"

"Go, Anima! Out the back door!"

"But..." The man I still can't help but call my father thrusts a worn bag into my arms. It is heavy with objects that feel slightly familiar through the canvas.

"We packed your favorite things while you were sleeping, along with some supplies for dungeons and things," He says, his tone rushed. "Now go! Go!" I rush out the back door, slinging the single strap over my shoulder as I do so.

I am off and running like a fired shot. I know the terrain well enough to keep my steady footing, and I have just reach the woods when a deafening sound rattles every bone in my body.

I can just hear my father screaming words at the Ghost-types that I'd rather not repeat, and suddenly a colossal explosion rocks the frozen earth. I am frozen with shock as I process what my mother meant. Yes, she certainly erased all traces of me from the world...as well as themselves. Choking on tears that spring from nowhere, I stumble blindly through the woods, unused to venturing past the first tree or so. I remember my father's warning about this place. Never go in here, Anima. It leads to a mystery dungeon, and a dangerous one, at that. I find it funny that the place I go to avoid trouble is a place filled with untold dangers of its own. Less funny that my "parents" blew themselves up in the hopes of providing a distraction.

At least, that's what I think they were trying to do.

It's been a decent while before I have to stop and eat something because I feel like I'm about to keel over from hunger. I open my bag and am relieved to find my drawing supplies, as well as a worn, wooden box that I have often seen on the mantle. I carefully open it and am shocked at what is lying in the red velvet lining the inside of the case.

It is an Icy Flute, one of the "Seven Treasures" of the distant past. All thoughts of food forgotten, I carefully blow out a note like I would have done on the regular flute that was probably blown sky-high back in the house. A single note rings out, clear as ice itself. I quickly look around; this was probably not a good place to be honing my musical skills. I put the flute back before I'm tempted to play it again and dig around in the bag some more.

I dig through a large amount of Wonder Orbs before I dig a Big Apple out of the pile. Like the humans and Pokemon have continued to age and evolve, the fruit and berries here have still managed to grow. Thank Arceus...otherwise nobody would be here right now, except maybe the Ghost-types and Primal Dialga.

The Big Apple is partially bruised, but I devour it all too soon. It isn't until I finish that I allow my thoughts to wander. What do I do now? I can't stay here forever; eventually a Pokemon is going to come along and decide it likes the chances of taking down a weak specimen such as myself.

The answer hits me like the shock waves from the explosion that sent my world blowing sky-high on a ball of fire. The Underground. They're always looking for new recruits, and their policy seems to be to help any human in need. If this isn't 'in need', I don't know what is, I think, trying to motivate myself. I am young and inexperienced and aware that it is more than likely that if the Underground can't find any skills they can utilize, then my chances of a safe haven are zero to none. But I have to try, because my supplies won't last forever.

Even though I have no idea where the Underground is, I can try to find it. Maybe I'll run across one of their members along the way, and my journey will be that much shorter. With a steely determination solidifying over my wounded heart, I set out through the forest, my pace (unwittingly) challenging any Pokemon around to just try to get in my way.

And try they do. The first attacker is a Shuppet, who is hiding in the walls so I cannot counter its attacks that it flings at me without mercy. I cry out in pain and, forgetting the weapons in my arsenal, begin to run. Shadow Ball attacks are flying at me, spiraling off-course and skimming off my arms. The near-misses are a little too near for my liking, and I pick up the pace. The Shuppet, joined by a Mismagius and a Dusclops that seem eager to join in on the fun are soon following me and getting closer with every step I take. My lungs are on fire, and it is adrenaline alone that is keeping one foot pounding in front of the other.

I stop as my foot, upon making impact on the ground, makes a subtle 'click' instead of the thud I'd been expecting. I freeze, my instincts knowing what it is and warning me of it a heartbeat too late.

A loud explosion resounds through the air, and I am thrown upwards and outwards by the explosion. Flames lick at my face, my clothes, my hair, as I cry out. I see the Pokemon chasing me retreating, and it takes me a moment to realize that I'm sailing through the air. Did I get blown onto a fan trap or something, too? Because Explosion Traps don't do this, I think, leaves and branches whipping against my back. I land hard, and the only thing keeping my neck from being broken upon landing is the bag that has remained on my shoulders. Thank Arceus for that, but the worst is yet to come.

Upon landing, I am bounced into the air as I hit the bag and fly upwards ever so slightly. I tumble backwards through the forest, acquiring many bumps and bruised before I feel my head colliding with the only tree that is in my way.

"Ugh..." I groan, gritting my teeth and making an effort to remain conscious. It isn't enough, and soon enough the inky blackness hovering in the corners of my vision take over.


"Hey, you? Are...are you all right?" A voice calls, slicing through the silence that has occupied my mind. I can't quite respond yet, however. "Oh, my, this isn't good...not good at all..." There is a pause, and I can barely feel a tiny hand on my throat. Checking for a pulse, I realize.

"Oh, dear," I hear it again, and this time I'm getting a faint sense of what the voice sounds like. I know now that whoever has found me is a girl. But I am soon aware of my heart fluttering weakly...the fog taking over my mind. "What to do, what to do...it's not every day I come across a dying human...oh, yes! Of course!" Suddenly, the quiet pealing of a bell radiates calmly through the air, and the fogginess fades away almost instantly. My eyes flutter openly as I take in a deep, if painful, breath of air.

"Ohhh..." I moan as the figure in front of me swims into focus. I see that it is a Pokemon, one that is small and light pink in color. She has small, silvery wings and bright blue eyes. Blue... I realize. Like the sky. In the past, that's what it looked like.

"Are you okay? You hit your head pretty hard there," She points out, biting her lip.

"Your eyes," I blurt. "They're like the sky,"

"What? Oh, my, have they turned gray like everything else here?"

"No, no, nothing like that! It's...how the sky used to be," I say sheepishly. The Pokemon hovers close to me, looking me straight in the eye.

"An eight-year-old, human girl...wandering aimlessly around the forest...knowing what the world used to be?" She murmurs to herself.

"I've heard stories from the elders," I explain quickly. "They tell us stories about the past,"

"'Us'?"

"Yeah...there's more than one human still alive, you know."

"Tee-hee! Of course I know that!" The Pokemon giggled, all traces of her previous seriousness vanishing. She spins around once in mid-air in her good humor. "I'm just surprised that you know those stories! They don't usually live long enough to be passed down to the younger generations, you know!" I feel a smile tugging at my lips, and I find myself smiling at this odd Pokemon in front of me.

"Excuse me? Who...are you?"

"Oh? You know, I could ask you the same question, flying in here all of a sudden and almost hitting me in the process,"

"I...I'm sorry," I say, figuring that since she saved my life, the least I could do is oblige her for a bit. "My name's Anima. I have nowhere to go, and I'm trying to find the Underground. I hit an Explosion Trap and wound up here...the rest you know," The Pokemon nods thoughtfully.

"You're a bit out of your way, if I do say so myself," I feel my heart sink.

"Really?"

"Yes, but you're not too far from the right path. If you head down that way for a few miles," She says, pointing to a barely-visible path cutting through the trees and heading in the south-eastern direction. "Then you'll find it in what used to be a day or so,"

"Thank you," I say. "But you never answered my question. Who...are you, exactly?"

"Really? I thought you were just using human humor on that one!" She says. Twirling gracefully through the air, she says, "Dear Anima, I am the legendary Time Travel Pokemon, Celebi!"


Celebi and I talk for a while before I insist that I'd better get going. While I am dying to know how time travel works, I know that I'd best get a move on before I waste any more time.

"Good luck, Anima!" Celebi calls after me as I set out on my way.

"Bye, Celebi! Thank you for everything!" I reply. Then, suddenly, I find Celebi rocketing after me until she is right in front of me. I stumble to a halt. "What is it?" I ask.

"Anima, one more thing...you were probably going to do this anyways, but be sure to be careful of Dusknoir. Don't give him any reason to remember your face, let alone your name,"

"Because I know you're here? I know Primal Dialga wants you gone..." I say, suddenly nervous. What if I'm caught and I can't keep my mouth shut?

"Oh, don't mind that, Anima. I can't be caught, you know!" She says, seeming overly cheerful when I consider the situation. "No, for your sake, steer clear of him. It's best to keep on the safe side of things. Just keep running in that direction, and you should find a run-down building that is shaped like a Wigglytuff. That's not the Underground base, but in there you'll find a middle-aged man named Wilbur. He has a long scar on his right cheek, and believe me when I say that you'll know him when you see him. Tell him your name, and he'll do the rest,"

"But how will he know what I'm after?" I ask. Celebi winks at me. That gesture makes her seem somewhat...less innocent, but I find it humoring.

"I'll take care of that, Anima. It's the least I can do,"

"But that isn't fair!" I argue. "You saved my life!"

"And you gave me something to do," Celebi counters. I don't understand her reasoning, but she continues talking, giving me no chance of asking. "I know a rebel when I see one, and it's imperative that you survive the next couple years. When the time is right, I'll be seeing you again," Then she rockets off, a vivid, pink blur speeding past the gray trees forever trapped in time, leaving me stupendously confused. Did she go into the future and see me meeting back up with her? I ask myself. What do I do? Do I make it? Am I accepted? What makes me come back here?

I shrug. Worrying about it won't solve it, and I have a rebel to find. A scar-faced man by the name of Wilbur. I start walking down the path Celebi pointed out for me, and I know that it must be 'technical night' because I am too exhausted to take another step. I climb up into a suitable tree to spend the night. The frozen leaves seem to wrap around me, shielding me from the outside world. I am concealed. I am safe. For the meantime, I have found safety. Don't ever believe you're alone, I caution myself. Don't believe you're safe. Hidden, maybe, but never safe. You're on the run, now. I use my bag as a pillow, placing it in the curve where the branch meets the tree trunk. Leaning back against it, I find my heavy eyelids closing as I drift off to sleep.


Sorry that things seemed a little rushed at the beginning, but I promise I'll try to do better. Here's hoping this is as good as my other stories.

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