You'd think that being a Pokémon for over two weeks now would have someone try to use that to answer the great mysteries of the universe. You know, where do Pokémon come from, how exactly do they work, are humans just another species of Pokémon, was it Pokémon or an omnipotent human-biased God that created the universe, those sorts of questions. I'm sure anyone in my position would jump at the chance to figure those out for themselves from this new perspective, especially when presented the days of thinking a broken bone provided.

Except me, apparently.

'How would Digletts exercise? Like, they don't have arms, do they? Hm, maybe they have legs and we just can't see them. In that case, do they have leg days and leg days only? Would they just dig tunnels to beef up?

Yeah, let's add this to my ever-growing list of what-the-fuck mysteries.'

As I sat alone in our quarters idly scribbling in our notebook, such enlightened contemplations kept springing up, pushing my concentration away whenever I tried to scrawl something tangible onto the parchment.

'Wait, isn't parchment made out of Pokémon skin? Ugh, here we go with this whole moral dilemma again...'

I shuddered and pushed the notebook away to maybe use another time. With nothing more to do, I tested my broken arm. While it still screamed at me with each bend of my elbow, I found it wasn't quite as intense as it had been yesterday. In fact, I found myself able to actually push myself off the floor somewhat (though I decided not to test that much for obvious reasons) even though the arm was supposed to be freshly broken. Maybe Pokémon have quicker healing rates than humans? Who knows.

As I thought this over, Rye walked through the door, a small sack in his hand.

"Hey, uh, got supplies from Mr. Kecleon. Here, eat this, i-it won't fix your arm, but it'll help a bit," he said, offering an Oran which I gladly accepted. Rye took a seat on the straw bed next to me as I started messily eating the berry, relishing in the pain-dulling properties of the fruit. As we went about our business, a sudden rapping rang out from behind. Rye and I quickly turned around to find a Noctowl and a Pawniard standing just outside the door. We watched each other for a bit before the Noctowl hopped forward, clearing its throat.

"Afternoon. You're Team Reach, I presume? We're Noctowl and Pawniard with Team Dawncrack," he said. Rye grimaced slightly.

"Dawncrack? Uh, I-I get it, but... er..." he said. The Noctowl sighed.

"We work with what we have," he said dismissively. Rye pursed his lips and nodded, swallowing as he continued.

"D-do you want something?" he asked worriedly.

"You could say that. We're one of the teams the Guildmaster's entrusted to help keep the news board up to date, and we have a couple questions for you and your... er, teammate," Noctowl said, casting a quick nervous glance towards me.

We reluctantly nodded, so Pawniard stepped up with its arm wrapped around a notebook and a crude inkwell. Noctowl waited as it sat down and dipped one of its blade-hands into the well. With a nod of affirmation, he turned back to us.

"Sources returning from the southern Imperium Desert say you were involved in an outlaw incident in and around Bassa Village. We're told the chase ended with the recovery of the desired goods, but also that the criminals ended up with shattered legs and were wiped of their motor skills around the time you apparently confronted them," he said. "Were you responsible for their current condition? If not, who was? Is the sheriff in Bassa Village correct in saying an emergency might be in the making?"

Rye took a minute to think as the two waited.

"I... I think it's best if I tell the whole story," he eventually said before pausing, his tail tensing as he tried to work up the nerve to follow through. Soon enough, he began recounting the journey from our return from Amber Meadow onward, leaving out details where necessary while the Pawniard to the side wrote down his words furiously. As he recalled my willingness to draw Vigoroth away during the fight with the outlaws, Noctowl sent me another look, though unlike per usual, I noticed that it wasn't tinted with fear or suspicion. Rather, I thought I saw some respect in that gaze, brief though it may have been. As Rye finished describing our encounter with Xatu, Noctowl raised a wing to stop us.

"I assume this Xatu character was the one who fried the outlaws," he said. "Why'd he come back to do that, though?"

"Don't know," Rye replied. Disappointment clear on his face, Noctowl clicked his beak, getting Pawniard to his feet.

"Thank you for your time. We'll post the gist of this interview on the news board tomorrow morning. We hope to see you again soon," he said. With that, the two left our base, leaving us alone again. Rye gave a relieved sigh, looking glad it was finally over, though looked up at me confusedly.

"W-why are you smiling, Beck?" he asked. Taking notice of my subconscious grin, I shook my head and raised a paw, a motion I hoped Rye would understand meant no reason. Despite that, I knew full well why. That look from Noctowl was quick, but it spoke volumes.

'Just because I'm like this doesn't mean we can't win the Guild's respect. If we play our cards right, Team Reach might just make it in this world.'


The sun beat down on us as we stood below the training grounds' imposing entrance, staring up at the familiar carvings. As instructed, we had showed up so I could receive whatever training Bert the Wartortle had in store. I pushed the unpleasant memories I associated with this place out of my head as Rye looked to me.

"You sure you'll be alright, Beck?" he asked half-seriously.

"Yeh," I reassured him. Nodding slightly, Rye watched me start into the grounds. As loud clashes and explosions from sparring matches rang out around me, I made my way towards the river in the back of the grounds, biting my lip nervously. I knew it'd be fine, given my past experience with Bert, but the fear and uncertainty of what would happen was still there, especially knowing what everyone else here must have heard. As promised after Team Dawncrack's visit the previous day, they'd posted it on the news board, and judging by the whispering Rye and I saw from most passersby while we passed, I could assume our misadventures were decently well-known.

'All I hope is that they at least know I'm not gonna... I don't know, eat them? Squeeze the jelly out of their eyeballs? Ugh, who knows what they expect from me.'

As I weaved through a team walking opposite me, I caught sight of the small arena of the Water-type grounds ahead of me, only this time someone was there to greet me.

"Ah, Beck! You didn't forget and ghost me, good for you!" Bert piped as I approached. Taking a quick glance around, he leaned towards me.

"Alrighty, this session'll be easier for the both of us without an audience. Take this, why don't ya?" he asked, offering an empty bag.

"Wha?" I asked perplexedly.

"It's watertight, designed to hold in air. Chances are you'll need to breath out of it at some point, my place is in the river and I'm gonna assume you don't have gills," Bert explained, only confusing me further.

'The river? Your place? How are we going to train in your house?'

Reluctantly taking the bag, I quickly followed Bert as he dove into the river. Apart from the more abundant silt in the water, I felt this was familiar territory. My messed-up arm by my side, I took a moment to thank the creator for giving me a tail as I swam after Bert, minding the Basculin swimming by. Soon enough, we reached a small structure carved into the rocks on the riverbed, which contained a dark, unimpressive space that Bert looked over proudly.

"It ain't much, but it's mine. Oh, just wait till the movers get my stuff in, then... eh, it still won't be much. But it's better than sharing a room with a flock of Wingull, I can tell you that," he snorted.

"Shaah?" I asked as I pulled out my scalchop and gestured to it, my uncertainty mounting. Bert looked at me, his face shifting to that same deadpan expression I had seen yesterday.

"I, uh, thought I made it clear we weren't doing physical training, not with your arm like that," he said. I couldn't help myself, I let out a long, admittedly obnoxious whine in response. Undeterred, Bert continued.

"However, I think I can help out in one regard. I noticed you picked up a couple more words since we last met, but I don't reckon two words a week will do you much good. That being said, I might can help," he said. As I looked on, he tucked his arm into his shell, keeping it in there for a minute before it came back out clutching some kind of blue lump.

"I've been told about the whole amnesia thing, but you do know what gummis are, right?" he asked. I shook my head.

"...right, you didn't even remember what your tide was. Er, I reckon you should try it first so I can explain it. I was gonna take it to the inn to get it juiced, but you probably need it more than I do," he said, offering me the gummi. Hesitantly taking the gummi, I looked it over. Nothing screamed off to me, though after the poisoned apple in Arid Riverbed, I was reluctant to stick whatever this was into my mouth.

"Well, I haven't drugged it or anything," Bert said jokingly, watching me as I examined the gummi. Swallowing hard, I took a small bite off of it, bracing for the horrid side effects that were undoubtedly about to follow.

'…whoa.'

I couldn't quite find the words to describe what I had just tasted. The rich flavor left a sweet but sharp aftertaste as I swallowed it, leaving me feeling oddly nostalgic. Before I could quite process this, I found that I had swallowed the rest of the gummi in one swift bite. Clearing my throat, I looked up apologetically as Bert chuckled.

"There's different kinds that work for different types of Pokémon, though what really sells these things is the boost they give you. I't makes you more, how do I say it... perceptive to learning new things, even if for just a little while. Don't know how it works, and I don't care," the Wartortle explained. I nodded, beginning to understand where this was going.

'Okay, he's going to teach me some new words, then. Okay, I can do this.'

"So, this is the reason I wanted to do this in here, because if anyone saw us doing this, we'd never be able to show our faces again," Bert continued. "Basically, you're gonna be spending the next little while rolling your tongue around to make sounds. Make the right ones and I'll have you repeat them till you've got them down, then from there you can use them to learn to speak easier. Understand?"

My prior bewilderment returning, I gaped at Bert. Spending that long just rolling my tongue in my mouth? Surely he wasn't serious here? As he looked at me expectantly, I let out a long, bubbly sigh and began to do as he said.

"Shaaalaaaweeeeh..." I slurred, clutching to my bag of air and silently cursing my broken arm again as I took a seat, resigning myself to this exercise as Bert kept watching, just the slightest amount of pity appearing in his eyes.


"Alright, Rye, it'll be easy. J-just ask Ms. May for a book, yeah... easy..." Rye mumbled to himself.

Unsure of what else to do while Beck was away, he had decided to go ahead and fulfill his suggestion regarding Beck's apparent literacy in Unown-script. At the moment, he was standing before Team Apex's base trying to work up the nerve to knock on the doorframe. Even after six months of apprenticing with them, Rye still wasn't entirely comfortable with even talking with them.

'I mean, they're the Team Apex, anyone would be pretty nervous. I could just walk away and no one would judge.

...ugh, no more excuses, Rye. Um, here goes, I guess.'

Biting his lip hard, he knocked on the doorframe and waited. When no one showed up, he knocked again, only to be met with another minute of silence. With a sigh of both relief and disappointment, Rye turned around to leave, only to catch a glimpse of a tall figure behind him.

"BOO!" it yelled. Rye jumped back with a loud yelp, crawling backwards as he took a proper look at the figure.

"Eugh... damn it, Mr. Arden," he groaned as his shock wore off.

"S-sorry, kid, it's just... you were there like that, and I couldn't resist!" Arden said gleefully as he helped Rye up. "So! We actually need someone to help us out; we're trying to help the Kecleons with a shipment. I was coming to try and see if anyone else was home, but since you're here, could you come and help us carry a couple loads?"

Rye's eye twitched as Arden looked down to him.

"I... I just want to ask you something, not-" he started.

"Great! You can ask while you help us out," Arden said.

"B-but..." Rye tried to argue, only for Arden to grab his hand and drag him along as he trotted towards town. As Rye yelped and tried to wrestle away from Arden, the unfazed Quilava suddenly paused as he entered the town square, looking at a small crowd that had gathered around a lone Shiftry who addressed them all with a loud but soft voice.

"Consider, Pokémon of Impetus Town. Is our world truly better than what we had a thousand years ago? Can we really run this world better than man of old? Should we not maybe use their example to better benefit our world?" the Shiftry asked.

"Well, seeing as humans were just made up by the Societies to keep the town governments in check, we can't exactly do much about that, can we?" a voice called from the crowd. The Shiftry crossed his arms.

"First, that's just idiotic, and second, you say we can't do anything, but how can you be sure?" he asked. As the crowd whispered among itself, Arden raised a paw.

"I mean, humans sound nice and all, but could they ever handle sugma?" he yelled. The Shiftry cocked its head.

"What is sugma?" he asked.

Arden gave a response indiscernible to Rye before once again grabbing his arm and running out of the square, cackling as the Shiftry fumed at whatever he had heard. After a minute, Arden slowed to a walk and sighed.

"Yeah, that's the Phoenixes for you. You know, bunch of hippies with goons shouldering them going on about how they wanna bone humans or some shit. We read about what happened in Arid Riverbed, so you've already met them by the looks of it. Any explorer who goes around is bound to see one of those weird rallies; I really just stick around to watch because it's fun seeing crazies speak their mind," he explained as the Kecleons' shop came into sight.

Apart from the usual green and purple Kecleons manning the shop, several Pokémon including Pike and May were helping carry and sort large crates filled with a variety of items. The green Kecleon quickly noticed Arden and Rye and gave them a hearty smile.

"Ah, Quilava! I see you've brought some more hands, thank you very much!" he said jovially. As Arden rejoined the group, he gestured Rye over to help pick a box of seeds off the ground. As they hauled it along, Pike stopped to look down at Rye.

"How you doin', kid? The feral givin' you any trouble?" he asked, getting a glare from Rye.

"His name's Beck, and he's good, Mr. Pike. We trust each other, I-I told him what happened at Mount Twist," he said. May gave a small gasp as Pike sighed a bit.

"Alright, I guess, but ya know ferals. They're unpredictable little bastards, one of 'em ran off with a good amount of our Poké while we were goin' through Basculin Strait. We're here for a reason, kid, so just... yeah, be careful with... er, Beck," Pike replied. Rye growled just loud enough for Pike to hear as Arden set down the box, cracking a grin.

"Come on, Pike, lighten up, the kid didn't do shit. Besides, if we want money, we can just ask May's folks!" he said. From not far away, May scoffed.

"Why mine?" she asked.

"You know their line of work, they should have plenty to go around! Besides, mine are in Giratina's back pocket, Pike's probably never wanna see him again, so you're it by default!" Arden said. Rye sighed and began sorting seeds from the box as Team Apex continued their banter.

"Yeah, that conversation'll go over well. 'Oh mom, please hold off on beating me senseless and robbing me of everything of worth!'" May said mockingly. Pike turned away from Rye to glance at the Leafeon.

"Ah, be nice about it, May. I never met them, but they'd be nicer 'bout it, I think," he said, draping a wing over Arden. "Y'know, just wrap a wing 'round Arden's shoulder, lean in real close, and ask their dear son-in-law if they can consume his soul to retain their youth!"

Arden sent Pike a glare as he went to haul another box over.

"What do you mean 'son-in-law?'" he asked. Pike rolled his eyes.

"Oh, fuck off! Do ya not feel the sheer tension in the air around ya two literally all the time? Nuzzle, make an egg, anything!" he said, waving his wings and getting several offended looks from the other volunteers.

"Maybe we'll consider it if you go and nuzzle Raticate on the cheek," May said after a moment. Pike just barely held in a gag.

"Alright, alright, fine, you win," he said, running off to find something else to do. With Pike gone, Rye walked up to Arden and May, who had taken to quiet discussion in Pike's wake. As Rye cleared his throat, they trailed off to glance at him.

"C-could I ask you something, Ms. May?" he asked.

"Sure, go ahead," May repled. Rye shifted in place as his former superiors watched curiously.

"Um... Beck and I were wondering if we could borrow a book on Unown-script. W-we found some in Bassa Vilage and, uh, we were curious on what it said," he said, handing the juice-stained paper Beck had written on to her.

"Hm, most of this looks like gibberish, but if you're sure... we'll see what we can do, I guess. Meet us at dinner and we'll give you what we can find," she said.

"Thank you," Rye said. As he turned back to the mass of seeds, he thought back to Beck.

'I wonder what Mr. Bert's got him doing? Not to hate on the Kecleons, but surely it's less tedious than sorting seeds.'


"...aaaafneeeghh." I unenthusiastically continued to vocalize before Bert raised a paw to stop me.

"Hold up, there. That was an 'n.' Gimme another one," he said. I stopped to scour my brain to try and remember how exactly I had gotten that out.

"...n-nah," I eventually tried.

"Do it again," Bert ordered.

"Neaagh."

"Again."

"Naaghh!"

With that last frustrated yell, I threw my paws up, accidentally releasing the air from the bag Bert had provided. As the bubbles floated up and gathered on the ceiling, Bert watched them concernedly.

"Welp, looks like you might have to suck those off the ceiling when you need to breathe. Might be an issue," he surmised. The next minute or so saw me screaming things that for once made me thankful no one could understand what I was saying. As I calmed down, I eventually turned to face a clearly spooked Bert.

"...s-saah-reh," I tried to pronounce. Bert's unease was quickly overshadowed by a large smile as he swam over to clap me on the back.

"See, now? You're already gettin' the hang of it! Just bear with me for a little while longer, alright?" he asked. With a slow, surprised nod, I went back to my long, disgusting noises while Bert encouraged me on.


The sky was becoming dark over the Guild's training grounds as I resurfaced at the Water-type zone, unsure of what to think of our session. Judging by how I'd ended up swimming back to the surface for air, I could infer we'd been down there for two hours at most, and sure, while all the inhuman noises I had made over those two hours had eventually had me manage out maybe a dozen new sounds to form into words, there was still the fact that I hadn't learned a thing besides that. As if knowing this, Bert breached the surface to look at me apologetically.

"Sorry we couldn't do much other than... er, that today. I know you must have wanted to practice techniques, but I'm gonna hold off on those till your arm heals, alright?" he said.

"Y-yas," I replied, prompting a wave from the Wartortle before he dove back down into the inky water. As the river stilled, I turned to leave the grounds, which had been occupied by mostly Dark and Ghost-types with the arrival of night. I found Rye waiting below torchlight at the entrance, watching the specters nervously before I caught his attention.

"Oh, h-hey. L-let's get to the mess hall, I really don't like this place at night," he quickly said, taking my paw to quickly drag me away from the training grounds. Once we had gotten a good distance away, he slowed down to talk to me.

"So, what'd you learn? Like, did he teach you Razor Shell, or...?" he asked.

"Naah," I said, tapping my mouth.

"Uh... he... just taught you to talk, I guess? Huh, well, I guess..." Rye said. The rest of the walk passed in silence before we headed into the mess hall. I was about to get in line as usual when Rye took my paw to drag me elsewhere.

"Rye, wha yeh..." I tried to ask.

"Remember what I said yesterday about Unown-script? I asked Ms. May about it," he said before we stopped in front of an occupied table.

"Hey, Ms. May, y-you said that, uh...?" Rye asked. Before us, Team Apex turned to look at us, trailing off from whatever conversation they had been having. As Pike's expression fouled, May brightened up.

"Oh, the Unown thing. We've got a good source here with us if you want to look at it. Arden?" she said.

"A good source? It's the best in the region!" Arden boasted as pulled a thick book out of his bag and slammed it down in front of us. Looking down at it, I found big, golden letters written across the leather cover in sloppy Unown-script.

'Arden's Big Book of Horrors. Um, okay...'

"Here, let me just try to make a chart here," he said as he flipped through the massive book, eventually stopping to tear a spare page out (much to Pike's horror) and began to write runes down from the book en masse. Once the page was filled, he handed the chart to us, though Rye didn't seem to be done yet.

"Th-this is your main notebook, isn't it?" he asked in awe.

"Yep, two-hundred and fifty pages of boring historical fuckery," Arden said.

"Can I... m-maybe flip through it?" Rye requested meekly. Surprised at this, Arden paused for a minute before quickly nodding.

"Er, just don't read the Sinnohan on page 84 aloud unless you want to get possessed by fifty or so ghosts, don't get the stuff on page 101 in any orifices unless you want to die vomiting your guts out, and don't look at page 160. There's nothing weird or anything about it, you'd just be better off without ever seeing that, trust me," he cautioned.

Unfazed by these warnings for once, Rye began flipping through the book with an enchanted look on his face, looking over page after page of writings and odd illustrations I couldn't quite make out and asking questions the whole while. After maybe ten minutes of this, he stopped on a page with what looked like a map to look at a line of text.

"Mr. Arden, what's this word?" he asked, pointing to said line. Arden took a quick glance at the term in question before humming to himself.

"Hrm... well, you know how we call this land Gray Proper, right?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," Rye said.

"Well, it wasn't always called that. Back when humans were still around, they had a different name for Gray Proper and the surrounding regions," Arden explained. Rye cocked his head.

"S-so, uh, they called it Uhn-oh...?" he tried. Giving a knowing smile, Arden waited a minute for effect before correcting Rye.

"They called it Unova."


"Unova... does that mean anything to you, Beck?" Rye asked as he fluffed up his bed. I didn't respond, instead continuing to stare off trying to figure out this revelation.

'I... I know that word. Think, Beck, what does it mean? I... is it where I came from, maybe?'

Blinking hard, I went to pull our map out of the bag, unrolling it to look it over. As usual, it looked foreign and strange, not like any landmass I might have recognized. But surely... I began turning the map every which-way, scanning it for landmarks until I stopped. Upside-down, the map seemed to ring a bell. Yes, it was upside-down, inconsistent with what I knew in terms of biomes, and several areas looked to have been submerged in water, but...

'...this is home.'

I stared forlorn at the alien yet familiar map for what felt like hours before the distant tolling of a bell snapped me out of my daze. Panicking, I quickly doused the base's torch before rolling up the map and putting it away. As I waddled to my bed, I noticed Rye giving a concerned look.

"...so is it..." he asked quietly. I only provided a simple nod before lying down. After a minute, Rye joined me, and as his shuffling and the singing of Kricketot outside echoed through our base, sleep claimed my sufficiently boggled mind. As I felt myself drift off, I couldn't help but ponder on a single question.

'If this really is... er, Unova, then... what happened?'


Author's Note: Just to leave y'all with a bit of behind-the-scenes, the idea of this story being set in former Unova was actually what drove me to write this story. While there were a few more ideas floating around that made me consider it, I really decided "yeah, I can write a Mystery Dungeon story" once I sat down and drew a map of what became Gray Proper over Unova. Yay, cartography!

I might upload the map on my profile and update it as the story goes along, so let me know if you guys want that. In the meantime, stay tuned, stay safe, and please wash your hands.