Act 1, Chapter 2

I Want

"I wish for infinite wishes." Harold said. Before he went on with what he planned to do, he needed reassurance that he could fix any problems he came across. What better way than infinite wishes? The Genie raised a brow as he looked down at his new master and his cowardly Tepig, waiting. Harold rolled his eyes, giving an exasperated sigh. "Can I please have infinite wishes?"

The blue spirit nodded, but still looked unsatisfied with the boy's tone.

Den slowly backed out of the room, full intentions on getting away from the blue creature.

"Alright then," Harold said, allowing the smile to return to his face. Even if he had to ask for everything, his dreams would come true. "Could you please create world peace?" The Genie of the lamp nodded, pleasantly surprised that his master wasn't being selfish. He snapped his fingers and there was a bright light, which scared the daylights out of Den. As quickly that the light had come, it had gone. Harold, unsure of whether the wish had truly come true, asked,

"That's it? There's world peace now?"

The genie nodded, but Harold still didn't entirely trust him. It seemed a bit too... easy. Jumping onto his bed, he opened the window. The sight outside surprised him. In fact, it scared him.

There were no Pokémon.

Normally his street would be filled with children and their Pokémon playing games and having battles, but there was no sign of the creatures. The neighborhood kids played freeze-tag, hopscotch, and street hockey. They had tea parties with dolls-human dolls- on the lawns, they talked, they played football. They weren't being watched by their parents' Pokémon, but rather, middle and high school students looking for some extra money.

Harold ran downstairs to the living room and turned on the television. Channel four, the battling channel, channel one hundred thirty, Pokémon Planet, channels fifty-two, twenty-six, and two hundred, Everything Pokémon, 24/7. None of those channels existed anymore. They were replaced with news channels with no hint of a Pokémon. Harold checked over more channels, those that always had Pokémon, and they were all the same. At some point something clicked and he screamed in terror, "Den!"

The teen sprinted through his home, calling the pig's name, but there was no oink- not even when he offered treats. The pictures that hung in the hallways had three smiling humans, no Tepig, no Braviary, no Liepard. Harold started hyperventilating, tears streaming down his cheeks as he realized the urgency of the situation. His best friend was gone.

"No! No! No! No! No!" He screamed hysterically as he crumbled to the ground, "No! Come back! Den!"

The boy cried so loudly that the neighbors heard and came to check on him. What they saw frightened them, because they could see that the boy wouldn't listen to anything they said, as if he was in his own cruel world. When they got too close, his thrashing would get them bloody noses and scars. 911 arrived to the scene in a matter of seconds, strapping the hysterical boy down and driving him to the hospital.

Genie, who quietly watched his master's reaction in the sidelines, felt rather... touched, that the boy would care so much. The blue man snapped his fingers and evaporated, leaving a faint smog in his place.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" Harold roared, banging against the door to his new bedroom. Apparently, believing that Pokémon are living, breathing creatures that are partners and best friends lands you in the madhouse. The doctors said that he should be brought to this… glorified prison so that he could get some quality therapy before he goes mad- well, madder than he already was. What did his parents say? It was for his "own good."

He'd been there for weeks, only seeing the light of day when he was being supervised. When he tried to explain to his therapist what had gone on, that just strengthened their beliefs that he was a nutcase. After losing his patience (He hates being told he's wrong), he'd assaulted the therapist in a fit of rage and it took the staff a good fifteen minutes to get him off the grey-haired man. Luckily the therapist didn't press any charges.

Sighing, Harold gave up opening the locked door and walked back to his bed so he could

continue his time out. He had a notebook and a pencil he kept under his pillow, where he drew pictures of Pokémon, specifically Tepig. Sure, he wasn't even close to the best artist, but it was a good way to pass the time and remember why he had to give up his wish on world peace. If this was the cost, he'd rather let them fight.

When he edited his picture for the millionth time, which was of him and Den when they first met, he started to tear up. Even when he tried to hold it back, he was unable to. He knew that he was responsible for this. He knew that it was his fault that Den and all other Pokémon had been whipped from the face of the Earth, not leaving even a trace of their existence behind them. He knew that he needed to get out of there fast and tell the genie he wants the world to go back to normal.

The event was unlikely.

"I need to get out of here..." Harold muttered, ripping the paper from the notebook and folding it. He was on the fourth floor of the building, and getting down wasn't the hard part. The estate itself was huge so the crazies could get their vitamin D, and it was crawling with nurses, which were really guards. How was he supposed to escape? But don't worry; this is Harold Johnson we're talking about.

He waited. ...And waited. And then he waited some more, until he got what he wanted. A nurse entered his room at lunch time, and he slipped past her. Quietly running down his hall, he took the stairs. Everything was fine until his path was crossed with a guard when he was almost to floor one, and the chase commenced. He ran back up to floor two and ran, jumped, ducked, ad dodged nurses.

Sadly, his run for freedom was short-lived, as he was cornered within seconds by twenty of the officers. One of them slowly took a few steps closer to him and spoke in the calmest voice he could muster, as if Harold was a bird that would fly away if he did anything abrupt. "C'mon Harold, you should go back to your room-"

"Hell no!" The teen shouted. There was no way in hell that he'd return to that cell. He crossed his arms to cover his neck and face, and in one swift motion, jumped. Much to the horror and amazement of onlookers, a sixteen year old boy, cloaked with his own crimson and shattered glass, fell two stories.

When they were asked what they thought about the entire scene, some would say they must've dreamed it. Others, that it was Batman and he'd forgotten his wings. The extremely mad suggested that it was an alien, trying to avoid getting abducted and the government is hiding everything from them.

But most said that it was the stupidest thing they'd ever seen.

Harold was taken to the hospital on account of two broken legs and one sprained arm. His limbs

were put in casts to heal, and he was watched over by nurses 24/7 after that incident. He was back in his cage, to be tamed. But Harold was no caged bird. He lied in wait for his opportunity, but it took two weeks for it to arrive.

His parents had been visiting when they asked him about a particular item they'd found in his bedroom. He wouldn't let the opportunity fly by. "Genie!" He shouted, "Please come out!" As he asked, the blue spirit emerged from the lamp in a cloud of smoke, his sheer mass and appearance making the adults and the nurses faint. Harold would've laughed at that, but he had

more important things to tend to. "I wish world peace was never achieved, and that I was back in my room with Den!" Feeling the urgency in the boy's voice, Genie snapped his fingers.

When Harold opened his eyes, he was in his room, where power tools littered the urinated floor. He ran and hugged the Fire Pig so hard that he would've died if his trainer hadn't paused to look him in the eyes. "I'm so happy to see you again, Den! You wouldn't believe what I've gone through…" Den was confused. Harold was acting weirder than normally, saying that there's a world where Pokémon don't exist. How strange.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dinner time. Harold had taken this time for granted, always thinking that his six-member family would be there. "So how was your day, Harold?" His mother asked.

"Did you beat Elesa?" His father snuck some of his brussel sprouts to his Liepard while his wife had her attention elsewhere.

"Nope! We beat her Emolga but lost to her Flaaffy." His father frowned but he wasn't surprised; he knew how much of a failure his son was at Pokemon training. The man had given up on that career choice long ago.

"And you're happy about that?" His mother asked. When Harold nodded, her eyebrow raised in confusion. "Well, that's… new."

"Don't worry, though," Harold said, trying to reassure his parents. In all honesty, their reactions were completely logical. He hated to lose. "Den and I are going to train even harder for that badge, right?" He turned to Den, who was quietly trying to snag a few bits of Braviary's food while the Valiant Pokémon was focusing on the humans' conversation. When the bird turned to him, he backed up sheepishly, returning to his already empty bowl, and nodded.

The rest of dinner went on as normal dinners did, with Harold participating in conversations more often. When he got back into bed for the night, he started to consider his next wish.

He'd seen a world in which humans dominated, and feared it. He was born in a world where there was a content medium between the two, and he loathed it.

So what about a world in which Pokémon dominated?

Harold had waited another month, during which he trained with Den. The Tepig had evolved, which was great. With the aid of a Rocky Helmet they'd bought from a small shop, they finally beat that Flaaffy, but Elesa's Zebstrika crushed them despite their hard work. It was incredibly frustrating for the both of them, leading Harold to make his next wish. Maybe if he understood Pokémon a bit more, he'd be able to defeat Elesa. But if he found the perfect world, there'd be no need to go back.

It was a bad idea, a very bad idea.

Genie gave Harold a new form, a Sawk was the closest thing to a human he could be. Sure his bronze skin turned blue and he only had three fingers, but those were the least of his problems. A world in which Pokémon dominated was what he asked for, and it was what he got. The new world, from what he saw, was environmentally friendly, with no technology and no need for weapons. "Pokémon don't need manufactured weapons, do they?" He murmured bitterly. "They're weapons that just needed to be fed regularly."

The first thing Harold noticed was that he'd lost the Genie again. That Pokémon could be anywhere in the world. And even worse, Den was gone too. Harold spent hours looking for him, calling out through the town. The place was huge, and it could get pretty confusing because every structure was pretty much the same, wooden. Sure there were stalls where the Pokémon sold weird items like "gummies" and "radar orbs," but other than that it was just a big town at the edge of a forest.

Harold was quickly losing his stability, and getting hungry by the second day of searching. He'd tried to go in the forest to look for food but the wild Pokémon there were ready to take him out. He'd slept in a cranny between two wooden buildings and by the time early morning came, a group of thugs found him. They said some words, he said some more. The scene that followed wasn't pretty.

So the Sawk dragged himself through the streets with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, a few missing teeth, and a roaring stomach. The Pokémon here weren't nice or kind-hearted. None of them would give him so much as an Oran Berry, and he could feel that those thugs were watching him, snickering to themselves whenever he tripped. He couldn't help it- they'd misplaced his left leg and he had to connect the bones again. That was brutal, and the pain wouldn't stop.

"I need to find Thundurus…" He muttered to himself, wincing as he put weight on his injured foot and quickly switching legs. "First thing I'm gonna do… ask him to fix my leg and tell me where the heck Den is." But where could he find either of them? He was pretty sure he'd searched the entire town, so maybe they weren't even here in the first place. So that he didn't scare himself with the possibility of that being true, he stopped and leaned on the back of a nearby stall. The Kecleon that was running it didn't seem to mind; she probably couldn't care less.

Harold muttered to himself, a habit he'd started picking up at the hospital. It was a nice way to keep him sane when everything went wrong. "Last time this happened, Genie was still in his lamp, and he was in my house. I'm guessing this is where my house is, somewhere." He glanced at the forest. Even though he was in the center of the town, Harold could see the treetops towering over the wooden roofs. He'd felt it for a while now. He knew that there was no way he could make it past the first line of trees but… "Maybe someone else can…"

"Excuse me, miss?" Harold, using the counter of the shop to give him support, stood and asked to the Kecleon, "Do you know anybody that can help me get into the forest?"

The purple Pokémon gave him a sidelong glance for a moment, and returned her attention to her customer. "Why would you need to go into the Mystic Woods?" Harold was silent, and the woman just shrugged it off. "Hmph, none of my business, I guess. You'd have to get an exploration team to help you."

Harold perked up a bit. "Where do I find one?" The Keckleon pointed to a large building, labeled as a bar. This was strange to Harold. Pokémon drink beer? "Most of them are in there."

"Thank you," The Sawk said, nodding to her gratefully. She didn't say anything as the fighting type slowly limped to the doors. If the Pokémon at the top got a hold of him, that'd be one less Ratatta on the streets stealing her berries.

Harold slowly opened the heavy wooden doors and paused for a moment, taking in his surroundings. The strong smell of beer met his nostrils, and he held back a cough. He'd never liked the drink, and these Pokémon obviously went all out. The bar was filled with multitudes of them, ranging from Arboks to Ursarings, drinking, talking, arm wrestling, some fighting.

The Pokémon that caught his eye were surrounding a pig with a yellow helmet with jagged rocks implanted into it on his head. They were the rowdiest of the bunch, all of them with scars decorating their bodies. They were around a large rectangular table, listening to a familiar Zangoose's story. The drunken ferret giggled to himself before finishing, "I broke his leg and he started screamin', beggin' fer me ta stop! Heh, I let 'im go outa the goodness of my 'eart."

The listening Pokémon didn't say anything for a millisecond, all of them carefully watching the pig in the helmet. Once the pig started chuckling, all of them roared with exaggerated laughter. They'd waited for the okay of Den? Harold paused for a moment and stared at the Pignite. It was Den, he confirmed. There, on his right ear, he spotted that ugly nick he'd received from another trainer's Meowth in a battle a few days prior. What was Den- Den of all Pokemon- doing with thugs?

The Pignite's happy expression hardened and slowly turned his head to face the Sawk. He'd been staring at him for much too long. Who he was, that didn't matter. You don't just step into his bar and look at him like that. Den's nostrils flared and he drew his lips back a bit, showing his sharp teeth. He subordinates, noticing this, turned to the now nervous Sawk as well.

The Zangoose laughed and waved at Harold, giggling, "Hey, it's the Sawk I told ya 'bout!" He hiccupped and fell backwards, out of his seat and on the ground, out cold.

By now the entire bar was silent. The other Pokémon acted like they didn't see anything, but they watched from the corner of their eyes. Harold slowly backed away. He didn't care much about the group of Pokémon slowly moving forward to break his neck, but the look in Den's eyes told him everything. He'd only seen that look when the Piginte was just a newborn Tepig in his preschool class. He'd loved everybody accept him, always giving him dirty looks and sending smoke in his face.

His eyes were red. Anger seemed to flow out of him in waves.

And once a thin stream of smoke emerged from the Pokémon's nostrils as he stepped forward, Harold knew exactly what it meant. Run.

"Get him!" Den roared, pointing at the fleeing Sawk. The Pokémon did as they were told, emptying more than 60% of the bar and filling the streets. With the help of an all too happy Kecleon, they started searching the southern end of town. For a Sawk with a broken leg, he was going pretty fast.

Harold's foot was getting worse by the second. Every time he put weight on it, it sent a shock of pain up his leg. He had a hard time not yelling out in pain due to the fear of getting detected. And to make matters worse, all the townspeople were purposely avoiding him. Apparently news travels fast here.

But… why was Den so angry at him? Was it because… did he blame him for their repeated losses to Elesa? Admittedly, Harold knew that battling wasn't his strongest subject- it never has been- but he didn't think that this would tip Den over the edge. He needed to find Genie, and soon.

"Yo, I heard you were looking for an Exploration Team?" Harold jerked his head to the left and looked down. Running alongside him on four paws- or hands, rather- was a Monferno. Harold nodded, and the Pokémon turned a sharp right into an alley. "Follow me, then!" He was desperate and didn't feel like being killed by rampaging Pokémon, so he followed. The fire type ran into a small door, and Harold had to crouch down to enter.

"Welcome to the base of Team Comet!" The Monferno announced happily. The home was honestly very small, with not much stuff. A Vibrava slept on one of the two straw piles in the middle of the room. There weren't any windows but there was a small chest in the corner, over which two pins and a sack sat. The pins reminded Harold of a Poke ball, albeit with strange wings on the sides.

Despite all this, Harold was desperate. He needed to get into that forest and get the lamp. "So you can take me into the forest, right?"

"For a fee." The Vibrava yawned, groggily waking from his sleep. When Harold opened his mouth to explain that he didn't have any, the Pokémon continued, "Don't worry, we're new at this so you don't have to pay much." The Monferno groaned at his friend's honesty. The Sawk was clearly not a native to the area and new to the exploration team concept- they could've gotten more Poke!

Harold nodded, "I'll pay you afterwards."

The Monferno put up an optimistic smile nonetheless, "It's a deal, then."

XXXXXXXXXX

They left for the Mystic Woods late at night, to avoid any run-ins with Den's goons. The idea of Den being a mob boss, as Team Comet had stated, made Harold confused. Sweet little Den was a gangster?

"Well, not really." Jeff, the Monferno, scratched his head in the stereotypical monkey fashion. He was struggling to find the words. "He's still a one-mon show. It's just... he's so strong that no one wants to get on his bad side, see." He cringed, "Now that they've got Den on their side, they do whatever they want. They pretty much own the place."

"Why hasn't anyone tried to stop them?"

"I told you, it's Den. No one wants to get on his bad side… Well, that is, except you apparently. What did you do to get him so mad?"

Harold shook his head. "I have no idea."

"We should be nearing the center by now," Jeff commented, exhaling loudly. Unlike his partner, the Monferno had taken down most of the enemies that had emerged from the trees and scared others off in the process. It'd taken the wind out of him. The trio agreed to take a break and feast on the wild oran berry bushy they found.

"...So this is a Mystery Dungeon, huh?" Harold said. They'd fallen into an uncomfortable silence. "Are they all like this?"

"Of course not!" Tim laughed, "Mystery Dungeons are always different, both in location and layout. They're places in the world where time and space are a bit distorted. the distortion alters the area every few hours, which makes navigation harder for the average Pokemon."

Harold nodded. That would explain why he couldn't tell left from right in this crazy forest. The ground type continued, happy to boast his knowledge. "When you make it through a Dungeon, sometimes it'll lead you to new places and sometimes it's a big loop. Like here, for example. At the end of this dungeon is Carney's Point. It's called that because of this really neat story..."

Small talk aside, the lack of opponents relaxed Harold a bit. He put his weight on a sturdy walking stick they'd given him and the aching in his foot had started to calm down after he ate some of the blue fruit.

Harold was only half listening to Tim's explanation of the forest's long history now. His eyes shifted slowly, scanning the small clearing's borders. He'd noticed it out of the corner of his eyes: a red and white sphere with a black ring coiling around it. It'd appear for a quick second before disappearing in the underbrush once more.

He coughed, "Say, do you know what a Pokeball is, Tim?"

The Vibrava paused from his ramblings and thought for a moment. "I've never heard that word before. Why do you ask?"

"Just a random thought, that's all." Harold shrugged and stood up. "Excuse me."

"Don't go too far!" Jeff called. Harold gave him a thumbs up and scurried into the bushes.

It didn't take him long to see the Pokeball, but the closer he got the farther it went. Always just out of reach. It left a sweet scent in its wake, kind of like the overpowering smell of syrup on soggy pancakes.

Finally, the ball slowed down before coming to a stop. Harold took another step forward, hoping to pick it up for a closer look. By now the sweet smell had started to become too much. It made him nauseous, but he desperately wanted to know: It seemed that the Pokemon here didn't know what Pokeballs were, so why would there be one here, of all places? And why would it be bouncing like that. Was the ball some sort of human remnant left over from Genie's spell? Was that even possible?

Covering his pointed nose with his shirt collar, the boy leaned in and grabbed the ball. It shot forward and hit his neck. He jumped back and placed his free hand around his neck, coughing. He opened his eyes again and saw the creature shuffle out from the thicket. The Pokeball was connected to a long stem that led to a mushroom-like Pokemon with beady little eyes.

It was an Amoonguss, Harold confirmed. He remembered it from the grass unit in Poke Studies. He hated grass types; If it weren't for those blasted status moves of theirs they'd be the weakest type out there. He remembered enough about this particular Pokemon to get pissed off as to how easily he was fooled.

It lures prey close by dancing and waving its Pokeball-like arm caps in a swaying motion, but very few Pokémon are fooled by it. Didn't the trainer that came in with her Amoonguss say it was normally very stupid Pokemon like Pidove who fell for it? His was definitely nowhere near the walnut-sized thing the subspecies considered a brain.

The grass type jabbed its capped hand at him. He avoided it with ease, but he didn't expect the capsule to break open and send an orange haze toward him. He dropped and rolled out of its way, but the Amoonguss wasn't done. The second he stood up it barreled him into a tree.

Harold gasped for breath. Amoonguss was pushing its grey vine against his neck, keeping him situated two feet above the ground. He was unable to defend himself from the spores its other hand released. The boy hissed at the pain and shook violently, trying to get out of the Pokemon's grip. His hands were beginning to feel numb- what was he gonna do?! He was too young to die!

He bit down on the stem as hard as he could. The Amoonguss screeched and let him go. Harold fell to his knees and took in as much air as he could.

The Pokemon frowned and tried to slam into him again. Harold moved to the side and grabbed the arm, twisting it. The Amoonguss was unfazed and shot another orange haze at him with its free hand. Harold moved away. His opponent went in for another slam. It got repetitive.

Harold wondered why the heck he was doing this, running from an overgrown mushroom. Genie had turned him into a Sawk- he could take it on. All he needed to do was stop acting like a human. Be a Sawk.

This time, when the grass type got close enough, he grabbed its stems and began to twist them into one. It huffed and readied another spore attack. The second he saw the yellow spores drifting out of the caps, Harold twisted them into Amoonguss' face. It sneezed loudly and began to jerk from side to side. Harold sent a hard punch in its face, making it cross eyed.

In its dazed state the Amoonguss couldn't untangle its vies, making it even more defenseless. Harold sent a blow to its midsection, quickly followed by a hard kick to its side. He must've hit a nerve, because the Amoonguss squealed loudly and bounced away, twitching every now and again. Harold grinned at his victory.

No longer was he bound by human faults. He was plenty smart on his own, but this strength was amazing, compared to what he originally was. After all those years of hating his body, it was something new. Something different.

He remembered back in middle school, when all the guys were developing; getting mustaches and deeper voices. They were getting buff, too, and some of them seemed to grow 6 inches overnight. As the smallest in his class, barely reaching 5"4', Harold couldn't wait for puberty to hit. He'd be the top of the class in gym, and he'd be the conversation of every girl in school, and life would be perfect…

But it wasn't. Instead of getting taller, his voice got high-pitched. He wanted muscles. He got acne. Oh, the acne was the worst part. A new pimple appeared every hour, a zit every day. Coupled with his anti-social attitude, his nerdiness and those humongous glasses of his, It wasn't long before he was labeled as "Pizza Face" and became the main target of those boys he wished he could be like. He wasn't anywhere near as tough as them, so self defense was out of the question. And it didn't get better; in fact some days he contemplated ending it all.

Oh but now… now he had the muscle power to easily overtake any bully he came into contact with and then some. He clenched his fists and smiled again. They felt tough. He felt tough. With the adrenaline he had, he could probably take on the Fighting Type Master himself. Marshal wouldn't stand a chance against him.

He really was a Pokémon, wasn't he?

It kind of felt…right.

"We heard shouting! What happened?" Harold quickly composed himself. The other two were ducking under some low branches, looking ready to fight. They'd expected a pack of Mightyena, from the noise, but all they found was the Sawk, uninjured.

"I just bumped into an Amoonguss," He said, "No trouble."

"Hey, your leg got better!" Jeff said. Harold shook his right leg a bit. No pain. He laughed,

"Would you look at that."

After a few more minutes of walking, they reached a cliff face. The top seemed to reach the heavens, but Harold could see Genie's lamp just a few meters up, lodged in a crack in the rock.. He was so close. "That's what I was looking for," He said, pointing at the golden object.

"I got it," Tim offered. He started beating his wings at a rapid speed, so fast that they might as well have not been there in the first place. The Vibrava flew up to the lamp and grabbed it. He started to pull hard but soon called down, "It's lodged pretty deep!" Jeff decided to climb up and help him. With the fighting type's fists bulldozing through the rock, Jerry was able to pull it out and pass it to Harold, who immediately ordered Genie to appear.

Tim and Jeff were terrified, slowly backing away in fear as the blue Pokémon emerged from the golden top, surrounded by thick smoke.

On his head, a single purple horn which could rival the sharpness of a Beedrill's. He had white, zigzagging and jutting styled hair, a spiky white mustache and two pointed blue ears on either side of his head. The irises of his gold eyes were a holy white compared to his demonic form, which was dotted with irregularly shaped purple spots against his blue skin. The smoke circled the Genie's lower body, with a long cable-like purple tail connected to it.

Harold raised his head to make eye contact with the great beast, showing no signs of fear. In fact, he had a smile on. Tim and Jeff couldn't describe it as anything other than twisted. The promise of melancholy was sealed on those lips "Genie, I wish to become a king, if you please."

And Thundurus sighed as he granted his master's wish.