Arid Riverbed

2F

"CROOOHK!"

Two small figures spun around at the loud roar from a room behind them. The smaller one, a Shroomish, stared back through the sandstorm before she quickly tore their Toolbox off her partner's back and started running down the path.

"Oww, that hurt... h-hey, wait, where you going?" said partner asked hurriedly.

"Someone's getting attacked back there! Stay here, don't let any ferals sneak up on me!"

"What? But... aww..."

The Sandshrew slumped his shoulders as his partner disappeared into the clouds of sand. He eventually settled on burrowing himself into the hot ground, sticking his little head just out of the sand as he scowled after his friend.

"Humph. You're no fun..."


"Croohk! Croooh-ook!"

The two visibly bruised Krokoroks, their dark eyes burning with primal rage, barked and growled as they continued to stalk towards a panicking Rye. He had managed to keep the beasts at bay for a good bit at this point, though he was beginning to grow tired. Aside from the physical damage he had taken, the stress of the situation was taking its toll. He had last seen Beck clambering down a pathway and being pursued by one of the Krokoroks, and there had been no sign of him since. Seeing as he was now backed into a corner, having his company really would have helped right now.

With no other option, Rye leapt at one of the two Krokoroks, his hands glowing sightly as he used a Mega Drain on the foe. He shivered slightly as he felt his wounds close up, the Krokorok below him tumbling to the ground unconscious. He didn't have much time to revel in this victory, as the other Krokorok let out a furious roar.

Before Rye could do anything, he was tackled to the ground by the monster, which quickly clamped its jaws around his neck. Rye quickly realized what was happening: he had only heard of this happening before: ferals in dungeons attacking not simply to show superiority or knock someone unconscious for a dungeon to take.

This Krokorok was going to kill him.

As if in response to this realization, the Krokorok bit down as hard as it could on Rye's neck. With a loud, painful crunch, it gave a satisfied grunt, then threw him aside to dig through his bag. Rye twitched as he uselessly grabbed at his broken neck, his fading mind scrambling to find a way out of this. Despite that, he knew that no amount of siphoned energy would be able to heal a broken neck in time to save him.

'No... I... I can't...'

He went limp as everything went black...

Crack!

...and immediately found himself on his feet gasping in sweet air, only stopping because of the sand in the air. The Krokorok, which had been digging through his bag, stepped back in shock from the equally surprised Treecko. Not a scratch was left on his body, and even the prior exhaustion he had felt was around frantically, he noticed a wispy yellow smoke rising from a cracked seed in the sand. The now-spent Reviver Seed quickly began to disappear under the sand, though what was done was done.

Rye let out a strangled scream of rage as he charged at the Krokorok, swiping at it with several consecutive Quick Attacks. As it regained its composure, he struck it in its muzzle with a hard Pound, knocking out a few of its teeth. The Krokorok let out another furious roar in response, snapping together its blood-covered jaws. It staggered at Rye, only to keel forward with a pained screech. A large seed of some kind ricocheted off the beast's head, leaving it unconscious on the ground. Rye could make out the shape of a Shroomish with a ribbon tied around the tufts on its head, presumably the source of the Bullet Seed, as it ran over to him from the other side of the valley.

"Are you okay? Did it hurt you?" the Shroomish asked hurriedly. His anger dissipating, a now-shaking Rye could only gesture to the crimson-stained sand behind him before falling to his knees, producing something between laughter and crying as the newcomer looked on, horrified.

"Oh... I-I'm so sorry..." she stammered before catching sight of the half-buried seed on the ground as it let out the last of its golden wisps. She let out a relieved sigh as Rye began to come back to his senses.

"Beck... h-he didn't... he's still..." he muttered.

"Uh... don't worry, you're okay now. I'm part of a rescue team, we can help find your friend!" the Shroomish said reassuringly. Rye stared wide-eyed, at a loss from this stroke of luck.

'What the actual... wait, Si- er, Ms. Feraligatr did mention a rescue team was going on this mission, didn't she? Huh...'

"Th-thank you..." he eventually managed out.

Getting to his feet, Rye began picking through the sand to retrieve what he could from his spilled bag. As the Shroomish quickly joined him, Rye caught one last glimpse of the spent Reviver Seed before it was buried by the blowing sand.

"I guess I owe you one, Murkrow..." he admitted under his breath.


"Rye! Ryy-"

My calls were quickly cut off by my own coughing and hacking, as the now unfortunately familiar feeling of sand filling my throat left me spitting out much-needed water in my futile attempts to get it out. Maybe half an hour had gone by since I had been separated from Rye, and my situation wasn't getting any better. I was seriously beginning to regret not eating anything during breakfast with Officer Feraligatr, and the water I had drank then was all but spent in the scorching desert sun. Nevertheless, I trudged along, hoping that I'd stumble across the staircase by some miracle.

Slowly pushing myself onward despite my fatigued body's protesting, I couldn't help but notice the odd lack of ferals in the halls, as opposed to most of my past experiences with dungeons. As I was contemplating this, I noticed something off about the scenery ahead of me. Squinting through the thick clouds of sand, I found that by the side of the path, a Scraggy laid unconscious, bruises and cuts covering its form. Even at the revelation that my path was clear, I felt a pang of dread rise up inside me.

'If something's taking out the ferals here, then what's to say it won't come after me?'

With this in mind, I noticed something off about the Scraggy's body.

'Is its skin supposed to bulge like that?'

Walking over and pushing its loose skin aside, I quite nearly yelled for joy when I was met with an apple. Excitement running high, I snatched it, only to notice the apple was strangely purpled and bloated in several areas that dripped a sickly viscous liquid.

'...eugh. Not like I have much of a choice.'

I reluctantly started trying to eat around the purple areas, reveling in the unspoiled juices flowing down my dried throat. Unfortunately, this didn't last long, as a sudden foul taste joined these pleasantries, followed a painful tingling sensation which quickly started spreading down my now-cringing body.

'Poison... as if the sandstorm weren't enough...'

Groaning pitifully at my luck, I kept moving forwards. A stabbing pain went through my body as the poisoning kicked in.

"N-no! Get up, I know you can do it! Please, I-"

My head snapped up at the sudden voice echoing through my head.

'Was... was that a memory?' Another pang of poisoning hit me as I cringed again.

"Rohh..."

"...no... he can't..."

"SCOOLL!"

"...nonono... graaaAAAGH!"

As the flashback climaxed, I found myself sprawled on the ground, clutching my gut tightly in imaginary pain. Relaxing my body, I stared at my trembling paws.

'...what was that? The pain... w-was that how I... died?'

Thinking back to my first day in this world, I recalled that, yes, I did remember having been poisoned somehow before waking up here, presumably causing what I assumed was my human death. Maybe the poisoning here had somehow brought the memory back? What exactly had happened? Could something that happened there have sent me here?

I couldn't think long, as I quickly noticed several small mounds of sand beside me, one of them misshapen from when I had apparently tripped over it. Hoping that I'd be able to find a Pecha or something buried with whatever was in there, I crawled towards one...

Only for the mound to open a pair of beady blue eyes and stare straight at me.

"Shaagh!" I yelled, jumping backwards in shock. The mound shifted as I realized that what I was looking at was not, in fact, a mound, but a small head peeking out of the ground, camouflaged to blend in with the sand. As I watched in bewilderment, a figure rose from the sand, revealing itself as a Sandshrew with a very dirty bandanna tied around its neck and grasping a long metal thorn.

'Oh, thank Xerneas, someone that can help...'

"Stop right there, feral scum!" the Sandshrew exclaimed as he swung the Iron Thorn around, his squeaky voice cracking as he did so.

"...wha?" I managed, unsure if what I was seeing was just some poisoned-induced hallucination.

"I am this pathway's guardian, and you're gonna have to get through me to... hey, wait, where you going?"

Not wishing to provoke this newcomer further, I pushed myself off the ground and started the other way. However, the self-proclaimed guardian quickly ran to my side and brandished his Thorn.

"D-don't ignore me! I, the mighty Sandshrew of Cesaree City, order you to fight me!" he said, his weapon wobbling haphazardly in his paw. I stared at him, even more confused than before.

'Is this kid serious?'

I tried to form a response, only to cough violently as another pang of poisoning ran through me. My stomach churned as the Sandshrew cocked his head, putting away his weapon.

"Uh, you okay?" he asked. I responded with a burning glare, causing him to jump back.

"Wait, wait, I'm sorry, don't eat me!" he yelped. Rolling my eyes, I kept trudging on, hoping to at least see the stairs before I dropped, but my new companion quickly caught up.

"Hey, if we're not gonna fight, you think you can-"

"Shaaah!" I screamed at him, hoping to at least get him away for a second. The Sandshrew was undeterred.

"Oh. You really are a feral, huh? Uh... you haven't tried to eat me yet, so... er, are you a nice one, then?"

Groaning, I nodded, hoping he'd leave me alone now. He did not, as it only seemed to make him more excited.

"Wow, cool! Ooh, you can be my wing-mon while I look for my friend!"

"Sh-shaagh..." I moaned as Sandshrew skipped along ahead of me. As I tried to follow, another hit of poisoning struck me. As I vomited out what little was in my stomach, Sandshrew finally seemed to notice what was wrong.

"Oh, you're poisoned... uh... hey, I think my friend might have something for that in our Toolbox! Let's go find her now!" he said joyfully, continuing to run ahead.

As the combined effects of fatigue, poison, and the sandstorm stung at me, I just stared ahead after him.

'What have I gotten myself into?'


Not far away, Rye hobbled after Shroomish tiredly, stinging sand still blowing against the both of them.

"He should be just down this hall, assuming he hasn't run off again," Shroomish said. As he had for most of this trip, Rye remained silent, staring off and only responding with a nod and a quiet hum. A mildly worried Shroomish looked back at him.

"You don't talk much, huh? Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Uh, n-no, it's nothing," Rye responded. Shroomish cocked her head, or rather tilted her body slightly.

"If you wanna talk about it..." she said.

"I-it's personal," Rye managed. Shroomish gave him a glance before nodding a bit.

"Hm, alright. You can talk to me, y'know. I mean, my partner's a bit of a pain in the butt, so it'd be nice to have someone else to... er, talk with."

Rye looked on confusedly as they continued.

"Why's that?" he asked. Shroomish shuddered a bit.

"Well, don't tell him I said this, but let's just say he's... how do I put this... not exactly the sharpest. He never shuts up, sees himself as some destined savior or something, and likes charging headlong into situations before he can think them over," she mused flatly. "How about yours?"

"Well... uh... he's quiet, I guess. Tries his best to help me out... and uh, I-I guess that last part applies a bit," Rye replied.

"How so?"

"W-well, the both of us wouldn't be lost like this if he had stopped to think about it, I think."

Shroomish snorted as they approached yet another path.

"Just my grain of salt, tell him to shove it next time he tries. Let him get too comfortable and you'll never forgive yourself, trust me," she said.

As Rye thought this over, a loud clang echoed along the path's walls, followed by an indiscernible demand from a Pokémon through the clouds of dust. Shroomish rolled her eyes.

"I think we found him."


"Can you say any words?" Sandshrew asked me over his shoulder.

"Shagh," I said between clenched teeth, clutching my throbbing head.

"Is that a yeah?"

"Eaugh..."

"Haha, don't worry, Oshawott, if... eh, I don't wanna call you Oshawott, can I call you Blubby?"

I put my paws to my face in exasperation as Sandshrew continued to talk incessantly.

'If this poisoning can just knock me out right now, honestly, I won't complain.'

Sandshrew suddenly stopped talking as he paused to listen through the wind. The faint sound of footfalls and an unfamiliar voice was just barely discernible through the howling, prompting Sandshrew to pull out his Iron Thorn and swing it, hitting the wall with a horrible screech.

"Who goes there?!" he demanded. A moment passed before two dark figures cautiously approached us.

"It's L- er, it's Shroomish," the voice from before said. Sandshrew stood tall and crossed his arms, getting his Iron Thorn too close to me for comfort.

"Ha-ha, you can't fool me! You're probably just a Ditto or a Zorua, and you're pretending to be her!" he boasted.

"Sandshrew, I swear..." the voice groaned.

"Come forth and face the mighty Sandshrew, and prove that-"

Sandshrew didn't finish, as a small seed flew from the smaller figure and hit him in the gut, sending him to the ground.

"Oww! Why do you always do it so hard..." he moaned. With the only real danger sprawled on the floor with tears in his eyes, the two figures stepped forwards, revealing themselves as a Shroomish and...

My eyes widened as I let out a relieved, disbelieving laugh.

"Rye!" I managed, trying to run forward, only to end up on the sand in a coughing fit. Blood droplets sprayed out of my mouth as Rye and Shroomish looked on horrified.

"Oh... o-oh, no..." Rye stammered, throwing his bag down to dig through it. As he searched, Sandshrew cocked his head.

"So does this mean that you're already this guy's wing-mon, Blubby?" Sandshrew asked. I didn't bother responding as Rye pulled a Pecha and forced it into my mouth. Slowly chewing it, I reveled in the sweet juices I at least knew weren't poisoned.

"It should take a bit to kick in, j-just try not to do too much, alright?" Rye asked. As I nodded, we shared a moment of silence before he sighed.

"Just... I-I'm glad to see you didn't... ugh, I used up our Reviver Seed back there, so... g-good thing you didn't need it, huh?" he said quietly.

I managed a small grin as I got to my feet. The pain of the poisoning had mostly subsided thanks to the Pecha, and though I was still injured, I was ready to keep going. As Rye went to pick up our bag, I looked over to see Sandshrew showing off his Iron Thorn to Shroomish, looking quite pleased with his new weapon as Shroomish kept a good distance away, clearly sharing my concerns of what he'd do with the thing. He paused just long enough to catch sight of us, his eyes lightening up.

"I made a new friend while you were gone! Uh, this is Blubby the Oshawott! He can't really speak, but-" he began.

"Wait, he can't speak? Mi... S-Sandshrew, don't tell me you've made friends with a feral..." Shroomish groaned. Sandshrew didn't bother responding, as he quickly caught sight of Rye sifling through our bag.

"Ooh, what're those?" he asked, running over to pick one of our team badges out. Rye immediately snatched it away from him.

"Those are our team badges, th-they're off limits," he growled. Though annoyed at how he couldn't hold it, Sandshrew still seemed intrigued.

"Wait, you're a team, too?" he asked. As Rye nodded, a newly excited Sandshrew struck a pose, prompting a groan from Shroomish.

"Well, I'm the mighty Sandshrew of Cesaree City, scourge of ferals and conqueror of dungeons!" he boasted.

"I'm Shroomish. Just Shroomish. Leader for obvious reasons," his partner said flatly.

"Together, we're Team Creosote! A rescue team!" Sandshrew declared, lofting his Thorn high and trying to roll the 'r's. "What about you?"

Rye looked around nervously.

"Uh... I'm, er, Treecko. I guess I'm the leader. This is my friend Oshawott," he said.

"Shaah," I said, offering a small wave. I didn't quite understand why we weren't using our names, though I assumed there was a decent explanation.

"We're Team Reach. Exploration team," Rye finished, lacking Sandshrew's bravado. The two Creosotes cocked their heads.

"Where are you in from? We're here from Cesaree City, good way across the strait from Gray Proper. Did Ms. Feraligatr send you here, too?" Shroomish said.

"Yeah. Uh, w-we're from Impetus Town," Rye responded. The two of them gave us an unsure look.

"Huh... does that mean you're in the Guild there?", Shroomish asked. A confused Rye nodded, only adding to their uncertainty. We stood there in silence until Sandshrew piped up.

"Shroomish said Guildies were no-good jerks who can't do anything themselves. Is that really true?" he asked. Shroomish's beady eyes nearly bulged out of her face as she held back whatever horrid profanities they had where they came from.

"Mizu, I swear by every legend there is, shut it for once or-" she seethed before a painful gust of sandy wind swept over us, causing all of us but Sandshrew to wince.

"Uh, l-let's just try and find the stairs for now, alright?" Rye suggested once we had regained our composure.

A unanimous agreement led our posse down the path, our twin teams trying to provide what pointers they could through the thick clouds of sand. All the while, I limped along, chewing on an Oran and tailing a silent Rye, who stared blankly ahead, that familiar dread in his eyes more prevalent than ever.

'Rye said he actually died back there... are we really cut out for this?'

'...no, no, that was when we were separated, and we have two more Pokémon to help us! We can still do this!

...right?'

Guilt and uncertainty weighing down on my shoulders, I followed after Rye and Team Creosote, praying that whatever waited for us atop the stairs ahead was at least a little better than what laid behind us.